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fluffyfantasticducky · 2 years ago

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The Sound of Love

☆ Pairing: Loki x Mutant!Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki now an Avenger, is quite the reclusive and introverted member in the Avenger's compound and for someone who likes peace and quiet, it's ironic how smitten he is for the loudest member of the team.

☆ Word Count: 5,207

☆ Notes: Loki is smitten flirty ler. Reader is a mutant with hypersonic voice. This had been in my WIPs for so long, but I finally have some time off 😭 enjoy.

☆ Warnings: Anxious Reader, insecurities regarding voice and brief weight insecurities are mentioned. I am a sucker for opposites attract so the reader is a stereotypical sunshine happy go lucky.

Being an Avenger was interesting on its own, periods of strict dieting, rigorous training regimes, public events to raise public morale, testing out technology, political meetings, missions that lasted days or even weeks. Now, when you were, not only a former enemy, but the enemy, the original reason they came to exist… Well, it made it all more difficult to just do anything outside of the tower.

It made Loki concerningly reclusive. At first it seemed convenient, people were scared of him, so him wanting nothing to do with the outside seemed like a fair exchange, the facilities had everything needed to survive anyway. But it was only a matter of time until it became concerning.

So, Thor started doing his best to drag him along to his patrols and visits to town. Which helped getting less dirty looks from people rather when he tried going alone. But Loki always found a way to escape back to the compound and cut his visits to the town short.

But things changed the day he met you.

And Loki was not particularly one to fawn over mortals like his brother whose line of lovers could fill countries, not even over another god. While Loki had a fair string of lovers behind him, none ever really meant much to him or lasted much for that matter.

But you… you had something different. You were everything Loki found annoying. If there was a list to thing that got on Loki’s nerves, you may have as well checked every little box. You had a strict moral code and mawkish righteousness like the super soldiers, you had a strong temper and were very vocal about the things you did not stand for like his brother, you had a bubbly personality and enjoyed teasing and joking (almost flirting) around like Stark and the Falcon did and given your powers you tended to be quite loud. And somehow, despite all those things that could drive Loki mad, he was completely smitten. Which was probably the most infuriating trait you had.

Being placed together, Loki and you seemed to be like night and day at first instance. Loki noticed how you always seemed to be in a good mood and never denied anyone a nice chat, while you practically had to beg Loki to engage in conversation and even still, he’d seem rather bothered by being interrupted. You were always doing something to help around the quarters like doing extra dishes, cooking snacks for everyone, or wiping dusty furniture when you noticed something was dirty while Loki spent his free time with books are maybe an old movie when he felt like agreeing to enjoy human culture. And while you enjoyed reading as well, while Loki liked reading in silence you usually heard music earphones as you wagged your leg along the beat as you devoured books beside him.

“Hey nerds,” Sam stepped in the room. “We’re going dancing tonight, you two coming?”

“I’d rather—”

“Oh, which club?” you asked excitedly.

You had a way of peaking Loki’s interest when you spoke like that, your enthusiasm was terribly contagious, but he was too proud to do anything but pretend he was still focused on his book.

“Nat and Wanda wanted to take their men dancing.”

“Oh, so we’re staying home tonight?” you smiled.

“Do you think yourself capable of convincing Banner or Vision of socializing in a big club?”

“Hey, no judging. Besides, it’s more fun like that, we get to choose our own music.” You smiled brightly, you always seemed to have something nice to say about everyone. “Which conference hall are you gonna use?”

“2C, at 9 pm.” Sam grinned. “I take it we’ll see you there, mockingbird?”

“Yeah, should I wear something in particular?” you asked.

“Oh, how about that something se—”

“Sam, you finish that sentence and I’ll glue your upper arms to your chest.”

He wasn’t one to agree with the other Avengers, but that was something he wouldn’t mind seeing. And Wilson didn’t take it personal as he just laughed and left.

“Are you joining us, Loki?” you asked.

“I would rather stay here and finish my book” Loki smiled. “You go have fun though, darling.”

“Oh… b-but it won’t be as fun without you! Please, please, oh please!” you had your fingers tangled in a praying gesture and you were making the biggest pleading eyes he’d ever seen.

You were unfairly cute, but the power of persuasion you had over him was even scarier than the one from your mutation.

“Yes, of course” he sighed. “Thor would be upset if I keep passing up on your silly group bonding activities.”

You had tackled him in a couch in a bright hug as you thanked him over and over as your cheek squeezed his own, even pressing a sweet kiss against his cheek.

Between such affection and getting to see you dance all night was the most delightful way to spend the night he could think of. Next chance he’d even dance with you. Because he didn’t want to make the mistake of not dancing with you when you invited him ever again. Not that he minded watching you dance the night away.

And your singing, Norns, if you weren’t talking to anyone, you were always singing at least in a mumbly manner. Loki wondered how you could never go hoarse.

Every time you sung Loki’s heart fluttered. There was no right that your singing did the things it did to him. But he couldn’t help but swoon every time you did. And people were starting to notice. Karaoke nights were particularly interesting.

“The little mortal has a lovely voice, right?” Thor nudged him while you were on their improvised stage with Wanda, singing to Dance with Somebody.

“It’s good” Loki shrugged, trying to play it off.

“Yes, you seem to be enjoying it...” Clint said making a mocking dreamy face with along with an over dramatic sigh.

“Leave Rudolf alone,” Tony said.

Loki arched an eyebrow. Stark wasn’t the kind to be mediator when teasing took place, much less when he was tipsy like this.

“Being absolutely smitten over a human must be damaging enough to his pride.” He snickered.

Banner and Rogers just smiled amusedly, meaning Loki was not gonna get any back up from the more level-headed Avengers. Not that he expected it.

“You’re all delusional idiots.” Loki rolled his eyes.

But his attention was snatched back to the stage when you reached a high note. You had a good technique, your mouth opened wide with a smile as your voice reached a volume high enough that you broke Tony’s wineglass.

At this point, it was a normal occurrence. Everyone still remembered that they had to replace the old crystal dome on the recreational room with fortified polymer “soundproof” windows from that one karaoke night when they had you singing Dream On, the fact that no one left that night with permanent hearing damage was almost a miracle.

This time you didn’t seem to even notice the casualty of Tony’s glass, as you and Wanda kept jumping and dancing around as you sang happily with your friend. Loki could feel the heat creeping up on his cheeks as he saw how happy you danced around, and he could suppress the smile.

It was funny really, how much his mother would scold him growing up for being so impatient with Thor’s loud a boisterous nature just to end up falling for someone who was exactly that, maybe even worse. You had a lot of energy which was good because you always pushed yourself in training, but Loki never expected to be so drawn to someone like you. You shone like the sun itself, and being a frost giant like he was, it seemed almost dangerous to fall for you.

“Loki, Loki, Loki!” you jumped on the couch next to him, “Look, Loki!”

Ah, that was another thing, you had a tendency to say his name a lot. You were what Midgardians described as hyperactive, but his name was something you repeated a lot more than any word, and more than anyone else’s.

“A cardboard box?” he smiled. “What’s so exciting about that?”

“Oh, haha” you rolled your eyes, “My package arrived!”

You gave him a pleading look and he smiled. At this point it was almost a ritual, you got a delivery and you rushed to Loki for him to open it with a dagger he’d summon. Which had also started a game.

“What’s your guess, darling?” he smirked as his hand sizzled with his Seid.

“The silver twins daggers, I mean one of them, but you get it” you said firmly.

It was that simple, he had such a wide and vast collection of daggers that whenever you needed him to use them, you’d have to try to guess which one he’d summon.

Most of the time you’d lose give the odds were at least 50 to one, and it didn’t help that honoring his title, Loki would change his pick last second if you ever got it right. But today he was in a good mood, and soon he was wielding one of his silver daggers, it felt weird wielding the left dagger on his right hand, but your excitement to see you had got it right was worth it as you fell back to the couch with a “WOOO!”

“Oh, congratulations little canary” he clapped.

“You’re becoming predictable, Loki” you smiled.

“Oh, is that right?” he grinned as he reached to poke your side making you squeak.

“Would you rather admit that I’m getting to know you better?” you smiled.

“Loki don’t quit your dreams as an Avenger, you don’t have much future as a harlequin” he chuckled.

“Oh, I don’t know, I’ve made you laugh, and not everyone is as tough of an audience as you are.”

He just chuckled as he opened your package for you. It was two pairs of headphones.

“Another one?” he smiled. “Do you break them that often that you need to be in constant state of purchase? And what do you need the extra set for?”

“You say it as if I just compulsively and irresponsibly bought headphones!”

Loki arched an eyebrow and relished the fait blush on your cheeks.

“I re-sell the ones in good state” you mumbled.

“Right, whatever you say. That’s why you got two pairs.”

“No, uh... this one’s for you.” You smiled as you handed him a pair, “They have better Bluetooth range, the battery lasts longer, the headband is adjustable, and it blocks outside noise.”

When you handed him the pair, he got a better look at them. It was pitch black, and on the driver, it had a little golden sticker shaped like his helmet, he shifted it and the gold shone green. It was still weird how ever since Thor let his story be known people had become more accepting of him, especially people who knew that the Mad Titan was a monster had even come to support him, but the concept of merchandising his image for admirers to show their preference for him was still new to the former prince.

But the present was very pretty, almost as the little mortal gifting it.

“Thank you” he said a bit more softly than he intended.

“It’s no problem,” you tucked a string of hair behind your ear in a way that made his heart flutter.

“This will help me have a reason to not hear Thor’s drunk singing the next Barton drops by with beer.”

You let out a shy laugh.

“A-Ah… no, it’s for me actually” you said, “well, because of me, I mean.”

“You? What could I possibly need to avoid hearing you for?”

You shrugged.

“Thor mentioned a while back that you thought I was too loud.”

“He did?”

Oh… Oh that imprudent, bumbling, traitorous, airheaded, twisted oaf. That’s NOT what had happened. He remembered that conversation like it had been yesterday.

“Loki, there you are!” his brother had called him.

“Where else would I be?” Loki asked tiredly. “It’s too early.”

“Ah, I see the young mockingbird has kept you awake again” Thor said noticing the mug of coffee on his younger’s brother’s hands.

“We stayed up late talking, yes” Loki yawned. “Where she gets so much energy from is beyond me.”

Thor just laughed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this brother, it’s a welcome change, for sure, but an odd one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The little Midgardian has you completely enamored” Thor grinned smoothly, “I didn’t think she’d even be your type.”

“She’s… certainly different from what I’m accustomed” Loki agreed. “I’d dare to say he’s more rambunctious than you are. But she’s honest and strong-willed, a combination I didn’t get to see much of.”

Loki could only roll his eyes at previous relationships, because of his status he’d be greeted with two approaches: either partners who feared his rank and power and would submit to his will for fear, or even worse, leeches that would use him as a steppingstone to get to power (or get close to Thor). After a while Loki just gave up and played along treating every lover like a casual affair and soon move on to the next thing.

You, for once had no interest on royalty besides movies, you absolutely adored helping Thor prepare for dates with Jane which mean there was no interest. And you had no reprieve on giving Loki a piece of your mind when you felt he deserved it.

He smiled.

“She stayed up singing until late…” Loki mumbled, mostly for himself.

“I think it’s great.” Thor encouraged him. “When are you asking our little singing bird out?”

Loki chuckled, it was amusing to see how much better Thor adapted to Midgard expressions and idioms.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen, brother” Loki said with the hint of a sad smile. “You said it, we’re not exactly each other’s types.”

“It’s true you’re quite the somber one, brother.” Thor teased him. “And our little mortal canary is always loud and bright.”

“Thing I would not and do not tolerate from anyone else” Loki said looking at his uproarious brother. “But she would find me rather dull.”

He never said he found you annoying, quite the opposite. But he could only imagine what his brother had done. He’d seen it far too many times back on Asgard.

When Thor, Volstagg or Fandral wanted to flirt they’d have this ridiculous approach of sending another one of them to mess with the girl they wanted to impress, annoy her into flirting. All harmless fun and always careful not to actually disrespect the maiden in question but Loki still found it annoying and like Hogun preferred a calmer style for the first approach. At least it was funny to see their strategy blow up in their face and more than once get a slap in the face.

Thor must have gone to you and mentioned that Loki thought you were too loud to tease you on his behalf. Not keeping in mind that you were not Asgardian which meant you were not accustomed to their harsher approach, and much less that despite loving to sing you were profoundly conscious about your voice’s volume. Loki had always been very careful about pointing out when your power made you too loud. Gently placing a hand on your thigh to calm you down when you got overexcited and therefore loud.

And yet, despite all of Loki’s effort to make you feel comfortable around him, here you were, with a timid smile with the most thoughtful gift to push Loki away. Thor could officially be crowned as the worst wingman in history of all Nine Realms.

He sighed.

“Dear heart, I don’t think I need this” Loki said gently, “Not for the reason you think, at least.”

“I just thought you could use not hearing me blasting your eardrums when you’re reading” you joked, but the tone of awkwardness was palpable.

“I’d be willing to risk that if you’d believe me, I don’t truly mind hearing you sing” Loki chuckled.

“But my voice… And music taste…”

“Are both beautiful,” Loki interrupted you, “and no one has a wider range of music in the entire Compound. Which I recall someone scolding me for not expanding my horizons to human music.”

“Ah… well, yeah, but you can always get that from the others, oldies from Steve and Bucky, rock from Tony, pop and electronic from Pete, and when Quill and the Guardians you can hear 80’s—”

“Dear, you’re very optimistic I can actually stand anyone you mentioned” Loki laughed. “Not everyone has your luck.”

“And no one else here likes—”

“Aaah!” you shushed him covering his mouth, “We agreed to never talk about my sins. It’s our secret.”

The look you gave him was threatening but sharing a secret with you was exciting and heartwarming. More because it was the most harmless secret, but you still got embarrassed about it, which Loki found beyond endearing.

“Oh, really? I very clearly remember hearing you singing to the top of your lungs this very week to it.”

“Shhh” you whispered as you fought a giggle. “We don’t talk about that, only you get to know.”

“Good to know I’m so special” Loki chuckled.

“You were a happy mistake” you said squinting your eyes in joking manner. “But if anyone else finds out I’m strangling you.”

“What’s the expression you mortals have…?” Loki smirked, “Don’t threaten me with a good time?”

Your cheeks turned hot pink as you smacked his arm with a laugh.

“You’re pain in the ass” you laughed.

“Well, I certainly appreciate having some influence on your backside.”

You let out a screech as you began smacking his arm with a bright blush on your face. But as he should’ve expected your screech was loud and made Loki wince a bit.

“Ah… Sorry” you said as the mumble returned to your voice. “See? That’s what the headphones are good for.”

Loki scowled with a huff.

“Alright, that’s enough.”

Before you had time to ask Loki had thrown you over the ottoman and with his knees pinning you by the shoulders and his feet stuck under the ottoman so there was no force on earth moving you.

“Uhh… Lokes? W-What are you doing?” you asked nervously.

“Testing how loud you can really be.”

What do you— Pfft!”

Loki didn’t make you wait for an answer (or to finish your question, that is), and he began slowly dragging his fingers across your ribs in a maddeningly gentle manner. And it wasn’t like your thin t-shirt didn’t do much to protect you.

You clenched your jaw as a big grin appeared on your face.

“Pfft! L-Loki!” you snickered.

“Yes, little dove?” Loki asked innocently.

Loki kept gently dragging his fingers across your torso, slowly tracing his fingers up and down your sides and ribs, in circular motion across your armpits and spiraling onto the center of your tummy.

All you could do was smack his legs as you tried to free your arms and kicking your legs on the air and your cheeks puffed with your jaw clenched as you did all you could to not burst out laughing.

“L-Loho— Loki please!” you looked like you were about to burst. “I’m behe— I’m begging you. D-Don’t!”

Loki just chuckled.

“Darling, I have not even started the real fun” he grinned deviously, “and you already look like you’re gonna puncture your own lung. Just laugh already.”

“I cahahan’t” you whined between the strangled giggles. “It’ll huhurt yohohou!”

“Beautiful little bird,” Loki smiled, “it’d be impossible for you to hurt me.”

He noticed the pretty rosy blush on your cheeks, and he relished the way you got flustered at his teasing. Loki simply chuckled and squeezed your ribs, now poking your ribs, drilling his fingers between each rib. Growing up both as the God of Mischief and with Thor as his older brother, he had come to know first-hand what kind of tickles were better to make someone laugh to insanity.

And that you did.

Your face was already impossibly red in the face, and giggles were already slipping out, so the poking were just the last straw that made you finally crack up. And you burst into loud laughter and crazy squirming, kicking your legs against the ottoman, arching your back and tugging against Loki’s hold as he tickled you to tears.

“LOKI! HAHAHAHA! W-WAIT! WAHAHAHAIT!” you screeched.

Loki winced a bit at your superhuman volume as a smile formed on his face from both pride from making you laugh and the endearment of your laugh on its own. Your pretty laugh only being further motivation to tickle you more.

But he decided ease off the tickling as he just stopped poking your ribs to gently scribble your ribs in light feather like touches. But by now your defenses were shattered to pieces and you kept giggling in soft wheezing giggles. He simply wiggled two fingers on each side as if he was striking chords of his old lyre.

“Oh gohohohod! How is thahahat so bad?!” you giggled in between hiccups and soft wheezes.

“I don’t think it’s that bad, you’re just that ticklish” he chuckled softly. “Look at you, you’re wheezing.”

“Hehehe! I’m not!” you hiccup. “Lohoki!”

The way you laughed out his name made Loki’s heart flutter in his chest. Your voice got high-pitched and wheezy in a way that was awfully adorable and it urged him to give you the biggest hug and cover your face in kisses and beg you to be his own.

“Loki! I'm gonna gehehet you back for this!” you screamed in a fit of laughter. “Stohohop it!”

Loki grinned without relenting just a bit, simply leaning into your ear.

“Oh, is that so? What makes you think you can get me, little dove?” he chuckles as he gently traced his fingers over your sides. “And do you assume you can get now, or at some later point when you are not trapped and helpless under me? Because all things considered...that sounds like an empty threat… my dear.”

The self-satisfaction in his tone was infuriating.

“You’re all mine to toy around with right now, little robin…” he said in an almost flirtatious tone.

“N-No! Loki! Don’t you dare!” you squeaked out.

He looked you in your eyes with a devious sparkle in his eyes, those same eyes Loki did whenever he got you involved in a prank that would most likely get both of you in trouble, and he smiled.

“I think, my darling…” he whispered softly, in a way he knew his breath would tingle against your skin. “I very much dare.”

And with that his gentle and nimble fingers reached your stomach, giving it a lot of gentle pokes and scribbling all over the skin poorly covered by your thin shirt with his blunt nails.

He knew that among the long list of insecurities you had, your stomach was high up there, and so he knew certain touches would make you uncomfortable, so he kept his eye on your face, paying extra reactions to see if any touch made you upset. But you seemed more focused on the sensation he inflicted on your sensitive skin, and your expressions didn’t reflect any sign of distress.

“Lohohohoki! Stohohop that!” you giggled.

“Aw… is it too much for you?” he grinned cheekily. “You’re quite the delight to torment though, and I wonder… just how would you manage this sort of attention… on the other areas you were ticklish upon.”

As he spoke he lower his hand to drag his fingers over your waistline from side to side in a maddeningly slow manner. The look of shock on your face was priceless.

“LOKI!” you cried.

“Oh my, my, little sparrow, are you ticklish here too?” he chuckled in an almost innocent tone as his finger slipped past your shirt as his nail scraped lightly over the ticklish spot.

But he did slow down, not enough to make it all stop, but enough to make you go back to soft laughs.

“Hm…” Loki looked at you, pretending to be in deep contemplation. “If I didn’t know you any better, I would dare to assume you are enjoying yourself.”

Loki had seen others in the compound tickle you before, he had tickled you before, and it was noticeable enough that you didn’t seem to mind the playful attention, given you hardly fought back or protested when.

You let out an outraged before a squeeze to your hipbones made you burst into giggles after a clearly involuntary snort that made Loki laugh.

“Oh, no witty back talking?” Loki chuckled.

“Ihihihi! I’m gohohonna kill you!” you threatened him.

“Will you now?” Loki arched an eyebrow. “And how do you intend to do so?”

Rather than having a verbal response, he felt ticklish squeezing over his thighs and above his knees that made him jolt and bark out a laugh. It was enough distraction to make him stop for a moment, and he saw that little triumphant glint in your gaze.

“That was very very bold of you to make an attack like that...” he congratulated you, his tone menacingly impish. “But so far I had been gentle.”

And with that he shot his fingers onto the exposed hollow of your armpits. You immediately lose it when his fingers reach and tickle your underarms, immediately exploding into loud laughter once more.

“NOHOHOHO! NONONONO! LOKI, LOKI PLEASE! NOHOHOHOT THERE!” you squealed. “NAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHAHAHA! PLEEEEHAHAHAHAAHAHA!”

Your voice turned loud, and the walls literally shook around the two of you. But Loki was unscathed, perhaps a bit stunned by the strength of your voice, but he didn’t relent on the tickling.

“Well, that’s cute… but just for your information…” he smirked in a way that, had you been able to see through your tears of laughter would’ve made you weak in the knees. “I am not afraid of your ticklish little fingers.”

He chuckled again, as his fingers wiggling more sporadically, almost vibrating against your skin. You let out a blood curdling scream before your laughter turns silent, your face is red like a tomato and tears just kept streaming nonstop down your face as your body was shaking like a malfunctioning machine, your entire body language making evident that you need a break.

Perhaps that was a good sign that he had to stop. So, he did.

He raised his knees so you could slip your arms from under his legs, and you immediately pressed them against your chest, laughing silently prey of a giggle fit in a state of euphoria.

“Did I just...go too far?” he asked with a sheepish smile. “...I think...I may have gone too far, I apologize if… if I... I— hmpf!”

Before Loki could register what had happened, you had cupped his face and your lips were against his.

It wasn’t exactly the way Loki had pictured kissing you, and by all the Nine Realms had thought about it quite in detail. But this was… quite different from what he had fantasized. Your faces were upside down one from another, and it had happened so fast that you had just got Loki’s bottom lip at first impact, and he had been caught completely off guard.

But oh Gods… this topped every scenario he could’ve mused. Your lips were soft and smooth, and the taste of you… Norns, it was intoxicating, and it made him feel light-hearted, instinctively making close his eyes as melted into the kiss, leaning over to get a better taste of this paradise he had just encountered. He mimicked you as one of his hands reached to cup your cheek and caress it with his thumb.

Who knows how long you were like this, but it was certainly not enough.

But when you broke the kiss the look in your eyes was of shock and terror as you cupped your hands over your mouth. Again, not what he would’ve expected. He had not got any complaints in his past about his skills, so he was certain he was not a sloppy kisser to be the sole cause of that expression.

“I— no... I didn’t… I uh… I’m sorry…” you mumbled. “I— I wasn’t, oh no…”

“What are you apologizing for?” Loki asked, as he felt anxiety starting to bubble on the pit of his stomach.

“I— I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me…” you stuttered and stumbled over your words, “I w-wasn’t thinking… I just… I felt giddy and… No… no, no... I’m sorry…”

Loki felt his brain throbbing inside his skull as you kept sputtering apologizes. A million thoughts rushing over his mind every fraction of a second. Did the kiss meant you liked him? But if you liked him what were you apologizing for? Or did you like him but not enough? Were you aware of all the feelings you stirred in him? Was this a cruel joke?

Before he realized what his body was doing, he had already smashed his mouth onto yours once more.

He wasn’t sure why he did that. Maybe desire. Perhaps just the panic of thinking that could’ve been the last time he tasted something quite as ineffable as you ever again and he refused to give it up so soon. Or he could simply have gone mad. Whatever the reason, he just prayed you didn’t hate him after this.

But to his surprise, you kissed him back, and he felt once again that peculiar wave of peace and simultaneous thrill running through his veins. Now pleasantly complemented by your fingers running through his hair, making him turn into putty in your hands. This time the kiss lasted much longer than the first.

Not that it left Loki quite satisfied… yet.

“S-So… Do I take this as a good sign that you maybe, sort of, kinda like me too?” you asked timidly.

Loki could help but laugh at that.

“I will dare to say so” he rolled his eyes, unable to hide the smile on his face.

“And that we could do that thing again… t-the kissing?”

Norns, his heart was gonna beat out of his chest.

“I would like that” he smiled.

You pressed your lips against his and that rush of excitement ran through him once again. Loki felt your lips buzzing as he heard the muffled laughs through the kiss, it made him laugh as well.

“What’s so funny?” he chuckled.

“Nothing” you giggled, “I just feel your smile.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I feel your smile curled up in a smile.” You explained. “It feels… nice.”

His cheeks lit up and he just shook his head with a smile before diving in for another kiss.

You were right, you could feel the other’s smile when you kissed. How did Loki never notice a detail as simple as that? It felt so lovely. Even more with the little hum-like muffled laughs bubbling from your throat as you kissed. Hearing your happy nervous laughs through the kiss was the loveliest sound he had ever heard.

| Masterpost |

#marvel #marvel tickle #marvel tickles #marvel fluff #loki laufeyson #ticklish!loki #lee!loki #ler!loki #ticklish!reader #lee!reader #ler!reader #loki x reader #loki tickle #loki fluff #geek #ducky write tickles #tickle fics

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hops-hunny · 3 years ago

Text

What’s in a Name?

Pairing: Blaise Zabini x Chubby!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.6k

Request: N/A

Summary: When two beautiful people fall in love, everything can go right. Or, the one where Blaise gets the girl of his dreams.

Warnings: None?? Mentions of past self hate, positive use of the word fat.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. Enjoy!

Fat. It was a word (Y/n) had thrown at her from a young age but had grown to become neutral with as she got older. See, the (y/h/h) was fortunate enough to grow up in a household with her dear aunt Marlene who brought her up on the principle that ‘fat and ugly were not synonymous’ which she found herself quite fortunate of. You see, Marlene herself was an extravagant woman. She never stepped out of the house unless she was runway ready, long acrylic nails, hair curled in the prettiest of waves, and a face of makeup that could put anyone to shame. Marlene found her niece to be reminiscent of herself when she was younger. But, she also knew no matter the great example she showed her and the encouragement she’d give her, the world around her would affect the way she viewed herself until she reached a certain age.

However luckily for (Y/n), that age was when she hit the ripe age of 14. She was sick of it. Sick of feeling like a prisoner of her own body. Sick of hiding from mirrors, sick of wearing clothes that fit her like potato sacks just to hide the figure that she was naturally born with. Why should she have to feel bad because the world wasn’t ready to accept her for who she was? Why should she have to hide away due to a bit of extra weight and fat? So, after a long night of crying she decided from that day forward she would do her absolute best to at least accept her body for what it was. She didn’t wanna skip meals anymore just to make everyone around her comfortable. She didn’t want to avoid clothes that made her figure less of a figure. She wanted to live and be free in the body she was currently in.

If she could go back to where she was when she was 14, she’d tell herself she had exceeded that limitation. She was far beyond just accepting herself for who she was, she loved who she was. (Y/n) found herself falling in love with a new thing about herself every time she found herself blessed with the fortune of time to look in a mirror. Whether it was the way the rolls of her back reminded her of the ocean or the bumps and lumps around her hip area that were reminiscent of clouds, she loved every bit of herself. Even though it took her time to get there, she didn't regret it one bit.

Her confidence and demeanor attracted a lot of positive attention wherever she went. Her friends adored her and so did many other people around the castle! There was always a few wronguns here and there but that goes without saying. Even if you change your outlook on life, in a society where fat is a sin there will always be your self proclaimed saints. The more popular opinion shared throughout the castle though was ‘if she could find love in herself, why shouldn’t I be able to as well?’. Although it’s hard for one girl to change the world, she came quite close to it, always offering a shoulder to anyone in need and a helpful word of advice to anyone on the path of self acceptance and love.

There was one person who noticed her much more than that. Some would say it was a crush but no, it went quite deeper than that. He found himself being absolutely enamored by her. Her confidence, her positivity, her ever radiant beauty. All those things he found to be addicting, entrancing. Never had he come across a woman of any sorts who was so sure of herself, so proud to be in the skin she was born in. (Y/n) knew who she was and honestly? It was fucking hot. Blaise Zabini wasn’t one to make wild claims which is why when he thought about how he felt, he was very sure of the feeling. He absolutely adored the goddess that was (Y/n) (L/n). So why was it so hard to say it to her?

The way she made him feel had him in a whirlwind of emotions. A lot of the times, he was infuriated. Not by the way she made him feel, but the way she made him act. Blaise was always a hit with women from all houses around hogwarts. Why wouldn’t he be? When you’re a tall, dark, and handsome man with oodles of charismatic charm and yes, a fat load of cash, who wouldn’t wanna be yours? He could have any woman he wanted wrapped around his finger before he even opened his mouth. But around her, around her? His mouth would close as soon as it opened. He’d feel a rush of heat move to his face and his ears would start ringing. What was this feeling? This feeling that made him act so idiotic. This feeling that had him awake late at night, wondering what it would be like if he only said-

“Hi.” his head snapped up at the sound of a familiar warm voice. The same voice that made his heart race wildly, the same voice that made him act like one of those stupid fucking Hufflepuffs. All nerves and scurrying to find something, anything to say. There she was right in front of him, looking uncharacteristically shy. She had her arms behind her back one hand gripping at her other wrist as she looked up at him through thick lashes. “Have I wronged you in any way?”

“Hm?” he hummed out, still dazed as he looked down at her with a soft look present on his face. He cleared his throat slightly, pulling at the collar of his shirt that was suddenly too tight. Too constricting, too-

“Have I wronged you? I always see you staring at me quite a bit.” she repeated, gaining her confidence back some. God was he always this bloody gorgeous? Well, to her he was. She had her eye on him ever since she’d ran into him on the train back in first year. “I know I’m quite pretty, but I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate that. No?” she questioned, taking a step closer to him. She felt her hands grow sweaty at the smell of his aftershave, a sharp smell in comparison to her own strawberry body mist.

Was she flirting with him? He couldn’t tell. Why couldn’t he tell? He always could tell. Many upon many times he found himself rejecting women before they could even get the chance to confess how they felt. So why now, why with her could he not? Was this- was this nerves? “My girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate that. I-I mean I don’t have a girlfriend!” he stumbled out, cursing under his breath slightly. He felt himself grow quite warm as he heard her giggle. He looked up at the sound once more wishing he hadn’t. She looked radiant in the glow of the late evening sun. Her round cheeks prominent as her face turned up in a smile before she quirked a brow at him.

“Ah I see then. You don’t have a girlfriend but you were staring?” she questioned, feeling a bit guilty about how she was enjoying the usually calm and collected boy lose his composure. His face fell straight before processing what she said. (Y/n) could see a whirlwind of emotions happen behind his eyes in such a short period of time. ‘Isn’t it funny that only a few years prior this would have been me? I can’t wait to tell Rose-Marie about this later.’

“I-I.. you know what? Yeah I do stare at you quite a bit. More often than not, I find myself staring at you.” he closed the distance between them, her soft frame pressing against his tone one. He lifted two of his fingers up to her chin, lifting her head softly. “How could I not? You’re an absolute work of art. Only the most worthy of men should be able to gaze at such a rare beauty and I find myself to be very worthy.” he whispered softly, his dark umber eyes staring into the (h/c) haired girl’s (e/c) ones.

It */was crazy how with such few words, he could make her feel so breathless, so woozy. Was she awake right now? The moment she had been waiting for since first year was currently right in front of her. The years spent dreaming, pining from a distance all gone in a few words. She smiled up at him, placing a soft hand on the man’s toned chest. Even through his clothes she could feel that he had a nice build to him. “I suppose you’re worthy. I mean look at us, we’re both beautiful. Imagine the gallery of art we’d be together.” she said, confident in her words as she bat her eyelashes. (Y/n) would be damned if she was the only one left breathless and flustered after this exchange.

“Well, why imagine dear? I’ll be taking you to Hogsmeade this weekend.” He said, turning around as he began to walk off. She was stunned. Was this the infamous charm she had heard him having? As much as (Y/n) had heard about how charming and suave Blaise was, she had never heard of him asking anyone out for a date. Knowing this gave her her own boost of confidence.

“You will be? What makes you so sure I’ll be there?” Blaise froze, turning his head back at the girl’s teasing words. He smirked. She really was something else.

“Oh I know. I wasn’t the only one staring all this time, I saw you too.” he winked laughing some before turning around walking off. (Y/n) felt herself smiling some as she shook her head before her eyes widened.

“Wait, what am I gonna wear?!”

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There was exactly 30 minutes until Blaise was meant to arrive and (Y/n) was nowhere near ready yet. See, she had planned on being ready early, even going as far as to get up at the time she usually did for class. However, after an impromptu dance session in her underwear her luck had run out. She wasn’t completely unprepared though, her hair had been done the night before and her makeup not taking much time, the main cause of concern was her outfit.

The problem wasn’t a lack of clothes, it was quite the opposite. She had so many clothes that she had absolutely no idea of what to wear! She frustratedly slammed her fist on the pile of clothes in front of her letting out a few choice words. In a moment of defeat, she looked up at her empty wardrobe- wait a second. (Y/n) quickly scrambled to her wardrobe, slipping and sliding on the sea of clothes that lined the way before quickly yanking out the clothes covered hanger. On the hanger was a two piece set.

The top was a wisteria purple crop top with puffy short sleeves, the skirt the same exact shade with a ruffle hem. “This is perfect! Where did this come from?” she said, checking herself out in the mirror. The outfit clung to her plush body, every curve visible and apparent. The girl smiled, smoothing her hand over the outline of her stomach that was apparent through her skirt. Years ago she would’ve been bothered by the entire concept of the outfit but now the outline of her figure made her smile like an old friend. She quickly put on a pair of white chunky sneakers, accessorizing the outfit with a few necklaces and rings as well just in time to hear a knock on the door. She did another once over in the mirror before quickly running to the door pulling it open to reveal Blaise standing there. She felt her face grow warm at his appearance.

He wore a form fitting maroon sweatshirt that he had rolled up to his elbows, a pair of jeans that weren’t skinny but fit to his figure in the most flattering of ways, and a pair of expensive shoes from some brand she couldn’t even begin to try and pronounce. In his hands were a bouquet of flowers composed of forget me nots, baby’s breath, and daisies. Blaise was in awe. He had seen her outside of her uniform a plethora of times but knowing that she had dressed up so nicely just to go on a date with him made his heart soar. “Wow, you look breathtaking. Look at you!” he hyped her up, grabbing her hand. He held their entwined fingers above their heads, signaling for her to spin around. “Lovely, absolutely divine. I can’t believe I’m going on a date with a deity.” he said, smile growing more as (Y/n) grew shyer.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Zabini. You look great, maroon is definitely your color.” she gushed, closing the door to her room. She looked down at their still entwined fingers, squeezing his large calloused hand with her small chubby one before bringing her gaze up to his face. Unsurprisingly, he was already looking at her.

“Thank you, dove. Let’s get going shall we? I’ve got a ton I wanna do with you and such a short amount of time. Let’s get to it, shall we?”

“We shall.”

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The first place they arrived at was a building she had seen many times during her visits to Hogsmeade but had never been in. It was an old brick building with a paintbrush on an old rusty sign above it.

“An art store?” she questioned, looking up at him confused but not against his choice. They both walked in, a sound of a bell dinging as they did so. She looked around in awe at the abundance of supplies. The store was sort of stuffy and crowded but that was a part of its charm. Blaise scratched at the back of his neck nervously as he watched her roam around.

“Yeah I don’t know if I mentioned it before but I enjoy doing art in my freetime. I thought I’d take you to one of my favorite places first.” He said, walking up behind her as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “A-and well, everytime I imagined going on a date with you, I always pictured the two of us showing each other our favorite hidden gems. We can leave if you wa-”

“That won’t be necessary. This is really cool and I’ve always wanted to learn more about art! I’m more of a reader and writer myself.” she said, grabbing his hand. Blaise let out a huge breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in in the first place before dragging her off in the direction of his favorite brand of oil paints. The two walked hand in hand, exploring his favorite parts of the store. When he’d see something he used himself or was familiar with, he’d explain it to her, rambling off about it excitedly.

Blaise wasn’t normally the type of guy to speak many words but being around (Y/n) brought out that side of him. It wasn’t that his friends were bad per say, they just weren’t very fond of listening to things that didn’t pertain to them which he was more than fine with. However, it was nice having an outlet to share his interest for once. He loved that she would ask questions about things and even let him talk about his own work. Most girls he talked to never really cared to listen to what he had to say, often spending more time kissing him breathless than listening to the words that flew from his lips. But (Y/n) was very attentive, listening to everything he had to say, eyes full of the same excitement he held.

“Alright, I think I’ve bought everything I’ve needed from here. Your pick, where do you wanna go?” he questioned, grabbing the girl’s hand again as they walked out of the small art store. He offered the old man behind a small smile before turning his attention back to his date. (Y/n) thought about it, humming as she tried to figure out before her eyes lit up.

“I have the perfect place! Come on Blaise, you’re gonna love it.” she exclaimed before taking off down the street, dragging him along with her. He smiled fondly at her letting her lead the way.

“This something I could get used to.” he muttered, trying his best to keep up with her pace.

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

About 10 minutes later, they arrived in front of what looked to be a bookstore. Blaise looked around, swiping his fingers across the dusty books. “Welcome to the place where I spend most of my time when coming to Hogsmeade. It may look like just a bookstore but you’ll see why it's not in just a minute.” she said. Blaise watched as the girl got on her hands and knees and began to crawl making a ‘spspsps’ noise. He was confused, rightfully so but he didn’t question her actions. All of a sudden, a floof of white fur came crawling over to the girl purring as she scratched behind its ears.

“It’s a cat bookstore! How cool is that? There’s a bunch of these little guys just running around here.” she said, standing up with the kitten in her hands. Blaise’s heart beat wildly at the sight. She looked too cute with the kitten in her hand, holding it gently against her soft chest. He was brought from his thoughts as he felt something brush against his leg. He had to stop himself from losing it at the sight of the little calico cat brushing against his leg.

“Hi there little guy.” he cooed softly, reaching a hand down to pet the cat’s head. The cat jumped up to meet his hand before it could land, nuzzling its fuzzy little head against the boy's head as he purred loudly.

“That’s not the only thing. They also carry some muggle literature too! Don’t tell anyone though, it’s a secret.” she said, placing the kitten down as she began to browse the books on the old wooden shelves.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” he promised, eyes never leaving her curvy figure. She looked right at home in the book store, reading the titles like they were old friends. “I’m a bit of a muggle literature fan myself. Ever heard of Shakespear?” he asked. (Y/n) looked at him with wide eyes before nodding. She would’ve never expected that from the man, knowing how against all things muggle related purebloods slytherins were. He walked over to her tilting her head up as he looked into her eyes. “ What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” he whispered, dragging his thumb along her bottom lip. Her breath hitched slightly as she began to scowl as he walked off laughing some.

“Jerk! That was not funny.” she said, punching him in the arm as she glared up at him.

“Wasn’t supposed to be, love. You just look too cute when you’re nervous!”

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It had been a few weeks since their date and (Y/n) was starting to grow nervous. She and Blaise hadn’t been on another one and it confused her deeply. She had an amazing time on their date, in fact it had been the best one she had ever been on! Did he not feel the same? Maybe he had commitment issues? It couldn’t have been her. No, she had done everything right. She spoke well mannered, bantered back and forth with him, and she looked bloody amazing.

She sighed, opening the door to her dorm. It had been a long week. She threw off her robes before turning to her dresser before gasping. On top of the dresser laid a huge painting surrounded in a beautiful antique golden frame. She hesitantly walked over to it, brushing her fingers along it before looking at the note attached. Opening the wax sealed envelope she began reading the note out loud.

“My dearest rose, how are you? I apologize deeply for my lack of presence. Not being near you for so long deeply hurt me so but it was not in vain. You see, after spending such a lovely time with you that day, I felt extremely inspired. Your beauty deserves to be captured in something far more grand than a simple photograph so I painted you this. I hope to see you soon. To my greatest muse, Blaise Zabini.” she smiled as she read the words, goosebumps going up her arms. Blaise was indeed a talented artist. In photo realistic detail was a large painting of her smiling with the white kitten from before in her hands. She was lost for words. Never had someone done something so amazing for her. “Do I really look this beautiful? Is this how he sees me?” she asked no one in particular.

“It is and you are. You’re absolutely gorgeous.” she jumped at the sound of the deep voice. Turning her head she saw the man she had been thinking of for weeks. Slowly she walked over to him, smiling before wrapping her arms around him hugging him tightly. Blaise froze for a bit, not used to receiving such gentle forms of affection. He pulled back before placing a soft peck on her lips.

“Let me take you out again tomorrow, yeah?” he asked her in a soft tone. She simply nodded before standing on her tiptoes initiating another lovely kiss. Blaise wrapped his arms around her soft waist, bringing her closer to him.

“I really am one lucky bloke.”

#blaise zabini #blaise x reader #blaise x y/n #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x y/n #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #plus size reader #chubby reader

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drakenology · 4 years ago

Text

I Hate Everything About You - Dabi

warnings: ANGST, smut, daddy kink, mentions of rape,violence, AND swearing (cause im a potty mouth)

author’s note: this lil story is inspired by my favorite song I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace. im a lil emo bitch ok? I recommend listening to the song to get a better perspective of how the emotions of the lyrics and the story goes hand in hand. the chorus goes like “I hate everything about you. why do i love you?” and I immediately thought of something angsty and raw to write. hope yall enjoy! this one might be a little long.

summary: You and Dabi have worked together as villians for as long as you can remember but you two don’t get along at all. is this truly hatred or is this repressed feelings coming to surface?

You hated heroism. You viewed it as weak and meaningless. When both of your parents were murdered by an anonymous killer and no one came to their rescue when they could very well have been saved, something dark took over your spirit. You snapped. At the tender age of 17, your parents did not receive justice for the act of violence committed against them. The police told you there “wasn’t enough evidence” and that the killer had most likely killed himself.

There were simply too many holes in the case for it to be solved. Obviously this infuriated you. So much in fact that you planned to blow up the entire police precinct.

And you did.

Now being on the run at only 17 you fell into a life of crime, committing yourself to being a villain who killed police officers off duty earning yourself the villain name “Cop Killer” from the authorities. Not to mention your very dangerous quirk called “Leech”. You were able drain anyone you gazed at of their blood, the gaze having to be completely focused on the person’s eyes. Once concentrated enough it becomes hard for the person to look away from you. To trigger your quirk, you have to say the word “leech” in order to essentially stop the flow of someone’s blood to their heart; their blood being extracted from their veins to yours. The blood only made your quirk stronger as you can now manipulate it and use it in combat. You had enough control to where you could take a little or take it all. The stolen blood was also good for increasing your stamina and speed for a short period, manifesting a weapon with the blood you stole and of course leeching the person of their blood entirely, instantly killing them. The murders you committed granted you the number one spot of Japan’s wanted list. You were also the youngest assasin in Japan at the time so you had to move around a lot. You spent your teenage years living in abandoned buildings and sketchy motels; robbing, stealing and of course murdering for survival.

The day you met the League of Villains was your 23rd birthday. As a treat to yourself, you had cornered one of the dirtiest cops you had ever encountered. He was a known sex trafficker, a thief as well as a disgusting rapist. You had him right where you wanted him; wearing a disguise to hide your true visage in order to avoid being recognized. You had pretended to be a love interest to the cop, sitting in the seedy hotel room he rented to have a little “privacy” with you.

“Oh baby, you don’t know what you do to me. I wanna see that pretty little mouth of yours around my cock. Get on your knees for me.” The police man said, the sleazy bastard unbuckling his belt. You nod, secretly being disgusted by this man. But you had to keep your cool. You got down on your knees and took his hard cock into your hands and pumped, looking him directly in the eyes as you did so.

“Yeah, baby. You’re so hot.” He groaned, keeping his eyes locked on yours almost instinctively as sweat collected on his brow.

“Thanks.. but your time’s up, you sick fuck.” you say, standing up on your feet. You straddle him, watching the cop’s eyes become terrified as he finally realizes who you really are.

“Leech.” You say as you watched your quirk take effect. The reaction was instant as he starts to gasp and grab at his heart, clinging onto his last minutes of life as he died on the hotel bed. You moan as his blood is transferred into yours, creating a dagger out of his blood. You slice his neck, licking whatever was left off of his cold throat. You laugh, searching his dead body to take whatever he had on his person; money, personal possessions and his gun. Just as you’re about to get up and leave you get the feeling that you aren’t alone. You turn and see none other than the villain you had seen all over local news.

Shigaraki.

He chuckles dryly, admiring your work at killing the cop underneath you.

“Well done, little girl.” He said, peering over your shoulder to get a good look at the mess you made of him. You go to ask how the hell he got into the room until you hear the sound of police sirens blaring outside.

“We have the entire hotel surrounded. There are Heros on the way to assist us. Surrender now or face the consequences.” You hear the cops say on a megaphone.

“Shit.” You mumble, quickly grabbing your things; planning your escape in your head.

“Listen, I’ve admired your work since your attack on that police station, Cop Killer.” Shigaraki said. “We could use someone like you in the League of Villains. My friend Kurogiri here can get us both out of here in one piece. But only with your consent of course.”

You think for a moment. You’d rather make a smooth escape than risk being arrested. So you agree.

“We’ll explain everything once we get back to base.” Kurogiri says, morphing himself through the cracks of the door.

Kurogiri takes both you and Shigaraki and consumed you both into his portals, leading you to the secret hide-out of the League of Villains. You look around, your vision a little hazy from being in the dark portal. You see a few other people standing in the lobby. A guy with a weird mask on with two sides on it eagerly introduced himself as Twice. You see a cute girl that looked a little young to be in a place like this.

“Toga Himiko. Nice to meet ya. Hey, you’re way prettier in person. The police drawing of you is really unflattering.” She says, waving at you. You smile meekly as you turn away to see this guy standing at the corner of the bar. He had burn scars all over his face and neck, dark hair and the most mysterious eyes you’ve ever seen. You met his gaze when you noticed him staring at you, sizing you up. You found his stare threatening and kind of alluring. You almost couldn’t look away.

“Don’t stare at me for too long, Cop Killer. I know what those eyes can do.” He said sarcastically, not even caring to introduce himself. He felt familiar, like you’ve known him for a long time. You rolled your eyes and walked over to Shigaraki.

“Look, if you think just because you got me out of a tight spot that I’m just gonna beg to work for you, you’re wrong. I work alone.” You said, adjusting the top of your outfit.

“I know. But today that changes. You see, we’ve been watching you, Cop Kill-” He says, interrupted by your loud groan.

“My name is Y/N. Please just call me by my name. My mother didn’t name me Cop Killer.” You demand, folding your arms in protest.

“But that’s what you are, Y/N. Don’t be ashamed.” Shigaraki says, inching closer to you. “Look, the services of the League of Villains aren’t free. We helped you. Now you help us. You understand don’t you, Y/N?”

You sigh, wishing you had just leapt out of a nearby window back at the hotel instead of taking help from this creep.

“Fine.” You say, looking down at your shoes.

“Wonderful.” Shigaraki says, walking away from you. “Oh and one more thing. I hate back talkers.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few months pass and you’re well acquainted with all the villains of the organization. You were all usually partnered up for missions; you always alternating between Toga and Dabi, who had finally told you his “name”. You grew to be pestered by Dabi. You’d much rather be paired up with Toga than Dabi any day since you and Dabi just could not get along, you both arguing like an old married couple at every mission. You couldn’t stand him. His cockiness, his elitist attitude, his aloofness. He hated you because of your attitude, you thinking you knew better than everyone else. He thought you were a spoiled brat who hasn’t done anything remarkable to even earn a spot in the League. To you, he was everything you despised about some men.

One night you were all playing a friendly game of Blackjack; which seemed to be a ritual between the members. Shigaraki didn’t bother playing but Kurogiri always seemed to watch.

“Ugh.. Fold. What do I have to do to get a decent fucking hand, huh?” Twice said, his two voices seeming to contrast in differing personality. You laugh, slamming down a perfect hand worth 21.

“I stand, bitches.” You say, winning yet another round.

“I’m bored.” Dabi says, standing up and leaving the table.

“Oh don’t be like that, Dabi. Come back!” Toga says, throwing her cards down. She sighs and stands up from the table. “Well, I guess that’s it. I’m goin to bed. Nighty night, Y/N. Twice.” Everyone went their separate ways. You walk into your room and change into something more comfortable and walk outside to get some air. To your dismay, Dabi was already standing outside in the same spot you liked to chill and think.

“Yo.” He says, referring to you. You roll your eyes and walk over to him.

“What?” You say, annoyed to the point where you just want to turn around and go back inside.

“Aw, what’s wrong, Cop Killer? Don’t like me?” He asks, inching closer to you to whisper in your ear. You stand still for a moment and lunge at him, grabbing his throat and pushing him against the wall.

“Stop fucking testing me.” You say sternly, looking him deeply in the eyes with the intention to kill.

“Careful, little girl. You might just turn me on.” He says, grabbing your arm and pushing you back. You freeze, stunned at the sudden harsh movement from the tall man in front of you. ”You’re 5′4′’, sweetheart. If I wanted to, I could end you without even using my quirk. You ‘oughta be nicer to me.”

You get angrier by the second, yelling and screaming about how much you hate him all while trying to take jabs at him, throwing punches at his face. Dabi dodges every swing, smirking at your abilities. He was impressed, but he’d never tell you that.

“Huh. Keep it up and you might actually hit me.” He teased, swinging back at you, landing right on your jaw. You stumble and collect yourself, charging towards him once more. You were certain you’d hit him, the blood from someone you’ve killed earlier that day increasing your speed.

“Fuck you.” You hiss, taking another swing at him and connect, landing right on his cheek. He smirks, wiping blood from his mouth. You get cocky and go for another punch only for him to dodge you. He grabbed your arm and twisted it, pinning you against the brick wall in front of him with your back facing him.

“When?” He asked in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You hated that he could so easily overpower you, making you despise him even more. He releases you from his grip and stands close to you; you feeling the warmth of his skin radiating from his body.

“Listen. You hate me and quite frankly I can’t stand you either. But you don’t see me attacking you. Try it again and I won’t be so nice next time, little girl.” Dabi said, grabbing your face to daringly look into your poisonous eyes to mock your quirk. You focus, ready to end this asshole. Suddenly his lips crash into yours. At first, you’re disgusted and fucking pissed. But then you feel yourself start involuntarily melting into his kiss. So you kiss him back with no shame, all bitter feelings leaving your mind as the kiss gets more intense. You feel his hands groping and caressing your body, his hands exploring to stop at your neck; wrapping it around. You gasp, feeling yourself get hot.

“The first time I saw you, I thought you were the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. And then you spoke. And I couldn’t stand you. But I couldn’t shake this feeling of wanting to bend you over and punish you for your slick mouth. You need a good hard dicking to keep your mouth shut and I’m the one to give it to you. That’s what you want too, isn’t it?” He asked, starting to kiss your neck harshly. You moan, embarrassed at his words. He was right. You found him attractive as soon as you saw him but his attitude rubbed you the wrong way. But right here and now, you realize that you might have been hiding your true feelings behind a façade of hatred. You wanted him too and you couldn’t stand it.

“I’m talking to you, Y/N.” He persists, biting into your neck. You mewl, shocked at how good he was making you feel. You almost couldn’t believe you were in this situation. It was confusing but formalities could come later. You wanted him now.

“Yes, Dabi. I wanted you to fuck me the first time I saw you.” You say quietly, feeling him reach under your shirt and bra to grab at your naked breast. You bit your lip, feeling slick pool between your legs as you fall victim to his touch.

“Get inside and go in my room. I expect you to have nothing on when I get there. Understood?” He demands, pinching your nipple lightly. You gasp, nodding at his request.

“Words. You’ve already made me angry with that stunt you pulled punching me in the face. I wouldn’t try me further.” He said, grabbing your hair and pulling it to expose more of your neck. You moan, unable to control yourself suddenly. It’s like he knew exactly what to do to turn you on. Fucking asshole.

“Y-Yes, daddy- I-I mean Dabi.” You flush. Damn. You couldn’t believe you let that slip. He laughs, kissing your lips once more as he lets you go.

“Daddy works just fine.” Dabi says smirking, watching you stumble towards the door to go back inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You knew you should just go into your own room but, God you wanted to see what he’d do to you for almost punching him. You wondered how rough he’d be, your panties soaking at the thought as you gulp and open his room door. You sat on his bed and took off your clothes, leaving your underwear on to tease him. Suddenly his door opens and it’s him. He looked you up and down, loving what he saw. But to his dismay you had on too many clothes still.

“I thought I told you to get naked, little girl.” Dabi said, pushing you onto his bed. He stood above you, running his fingers down your stomach and stopping at the waistband of your panties. You shudder at his cold fingers.

“You never said naked.” You tease, looking back at him. He frowns, shaking his head.

“Man, you just love pushing my buttons don’t you? You’re gonna regret teasing me so much.” He says, pulling your panties down roughly, holding them up to his face. He smirked at the wet spot he saw on them, throwing them onto the ground. “This is gonna be fun.”

You hiss as he slid one measly finger inside you while rubbing your bundle of nerves with his thumb, the single finger not being enough to satisfy your craving for that certain pleasurable stretch. Somehow though, Dabi was making you feel good with that one finger. You roll your hips for more friction only to have Dabi hold you down with his other hand.

“Stop squirming so much. It makes you look desperate, doll.” He teased earning a whine from you. As if to be a little forgiving he adds another finger, watching your face twist up in pleasure. You were visually trying to hide your moans, Dabi not liking that at all.

“Come on now. It’s no fun if you don’t scream for me. Let everyone here know how good I make you feel.” He said, halting his movements. You nod, moaning loudly as he adds a third finger. Any shame or embarrassment is gone as he worked you up to your first orgasm. You grab at his sheets, trying to move for more friction only to once more be overpowered by Dabi.

“You don’t listen too well do you? I said stop squirming. You’ll have your fill but good girls wait to cum. Understand? I expect you to address me correctly this time.” He says, grabbing your face to make you look at him. Something about knowing you could kill him with your eyes turned him on, because he knew he could keep you from doing so. All he had to do was please you, knowing you won’t be able to focus on anything but screaming his name let alone his eyes.

“Y-Yes daddy.” You mewl, your eyes rolling back as he pulled out one of your breasts, sucking on your nipple harshly. The sound of your moans was music to Dabi’s ears, the only thing he ever wanted to hear come out of your mouth. He cooed praises into your ear, telling you hot sexy you are and how et your pussy is just for him. He crawls on top of you, pulling his fingers out of you as you whine at the sudden loss. He kissed you, ripping your bra off. He sat up and stared at the gorgeous naked woman underneath him.

“You’re so hot when you’re not talking shit.” He says, playing with your boobs. He was unsure of where to start. He wanted to please every inch of your lovely curves, his eyes drinking in your hips up to your beautiful breasts. He nearly drooled at the sight of them, your nipples seeming to perk up when he looked at them. You stare back at the man on top of you, his scars almost complimenting his skin as you watched him take off his shirt. You bit your lip as you feel a nice sized bulge grind up against your dripping core. You didn’t even notice that his pants were off, drooling at the sight of his body overpowering yours. He grinded up against you, leaning in close to your ear.

“Ready to get fucked, sweetheart?” He asked, nibbling on your ear lobe.

“Yes, god, yes!” You gasp, feeling him take off his boxers. He positioned his dick at your entrance, tapping it against you to tease you. You moan, going to grab his cock and shove it inside you but you think twice, already in trouble with him. Dabi smirks, excited to break you as he shoved himself inside you and started to rut his hips into you. You moan sinfully at the sudden stretch, loving how he filled you. You feel him speed up, not even fully adjusted to his length as you clawed at his back for dear life.

“You’re takin me so well, doll.” He said, grabbing your neck to lightly choke you. Your eyes roll back as you reveal a sinful ahegao face while he pounds you senseless. You’re moaning his name and telling him how good he feels inside you, cussing and screaming into the air as you feel yourself coming close to cumming.

“C-Can I-?” You ask, unable to finish your sentence as you feel yourself clenching around him. Dabi is relentlessly prodding at your g-spot, causing you to see stars as he notices he’s hitting that special spot. He smirks and angles himself so that he’s repeatedly hitting that spot, watching you cover your mouth as you scream. He snatched your hand away from your mouth and pinned it above your head.

“Tell me you’re sorry for punching me, kitten.” He demands, harshly pinching your nipples. You shake your head no to tease him. “No? Must need more convincing, huh brat?” He pulls out of you, you letting out a pathetic sob at the loss. He roughly flips you on your stomach and plants a hard smack on your ass. You yelp, your pussy aggravated as it throbs at the feeling of pleasure. He yanks you towards him and shoves himself back inside you, you laying flat on your stomach. You kick and scream under him, feeling him so deep it blinds you.

“Oh my god, daddy!” You whine, shoving your face into your pillow as he assaults your g-spot.

“Say it.” He demands, landing another hard smack on your ass this one sure to leave a mark.

“I-I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry!” You scream, desperate for release.

“Good girl.” He hisses. Dabi grabs your hair and lifts your head off the pillow wanting to hear the last moans you can give before you cum.

“Go ‘head and cum for me. You’ve earned it.” He says. And just like that you clench around him hard, your orgasm washing over your body as you cum all over his dick. He rides out your orgasm, only to continue pounding you earning a sharp yelp from you as you throw your head into the pillow again.

“You didn’t think it was over did you? That’s cute.” He said, taking you further. At this point you’re overstimulated, the pleasure almost painful as he worked you to another orgasm.

“God, I love you!” You scream to his delight as you cum quicker than your mind can keep up.

“I love you too. Even though you’re fucking annoying.” He hisses, unable to hold himself back anymore. He cums hot inside you, grunting as he slaps your ass one last time before pulling himself out. You moan softly, breathing heavily as he cleaned you up. He kissed up your body, you unable to move from being completely fucked out of your mind.

“When you socked me, I knew you were a keeper.” He laughed.

“Shut up.” You say, smiling into your pillow.

“HEY, YOU TWO DONE IN THERE? YOU COULD HAVE WOKEN UP THE ENITRE CITY WITH ALL THAT RACKET!” Twice shouted through the walls, turning your face red with shame.

“SHUT UP AND MIND YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS!” Dabi yelled back, rubbing soft circles on your ass to soothe his harsh marks on both cheeks.

bitch i.. i’m sick.

#bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bnha dabi #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha shouta aizawa #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #bnha oc

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harrysgloves · 4 years ago

Text

Here Comes The Sun

word count: 3.3k

story summary: After dating for 2 years, Harry finally convinces you to move in with him. Only to find out the person he loves most in this world suffers from depression.

warnings: Language // Mentions of depression, anxiety, insomnia, and everything else that goes along with that fucking terrible disease. // Fluff because I really needed it.

a/n: 100% needed this pick me up short story right now. The depression is real. Always remember to reach out for help if the load of your own depression/ anxiety/ insomnia/ mental illness gets too heavy for you to carry on your own. We all need help some times.

>>><<<

Things in your life had been going so well. Everything seemed to be fitting together so nicely like it was meant to be this way. That, honestly, should have been your first sign that a storm was just around the corner.

You'd finally agreed to move in with your boyfriend of two years after months of him begging and pleading with you.

"Come on, love. It'll save money." He said trying to be all sneaky, saying that was the only reason why he wanted you to move it.

"It jus' makes sense. Y'know ecologically. Less travelin' back and forth. Really, do it fo' the trees, love." He tried another time.

"Harry, if you care about saving trees buy a Kindle." You said as you laid down your own eReader to gestured to the book laying on his chest.

"Y'know how I feel 'bout those… things." He said with a wave of his hand before picking up his apparently superior "real" book. The sour look on his face made the side of your lip curl upwards letting out a hum as you picked up your tablet again.

"Well, when you get a tablet we'll talk about it." You said, smiling as you picked up where you left off in your book. Thinking you'd won the fight, there was no way he'd ever give up his love for turning pages for a digital reader.

You were very, very, wrong.

The next week you two hung out at his flat, cuddled up on the couch as usual. Your head laying in his lap as you tuned out whatever nonsense was on tv and scrolled mindlessly through news articles on your phone.

You only looked up when Harry moved his hand off your arm. Your eyes peered up at the smug bastard casually pulling out his new Kindle. The color draining from your face as he sat there with that infuriating cheeky grin.

"Anything we need to talk about, sweetheart?" He asked, eyes still on the screen of his tablet, that dimple popping out as he grinned.

"Oh, don't you sweetheart me!" You sat up abruptly beside him. The smile never leaving his face as he laid down his tablet on the coffee table.

"Why not, lovie? Something wrong?" He cooed, moving closer to you on the couch as you rolled your eyes at him.

"When did you get that?" You asked, gesturing to the piece of technology you swore he'd never EVER own.

"Two hours after y'left last week." His arms wrapped around you pulling you into his chest as you stared at him.

The cheeky jerk always tried to get what he wanted.

"H." You said, shaking your head at him.

"Jus' move in with me! Promise I'll pick up my socks and everythin'." He pouted his head laying on your shoulder until you pulled back slightly from him.

"Okay, I know that's a lie." You rolled your eyes, laying your head on his chest.

It wasn't that you didn't want to move in with him. You really did. You loved the guy. Even if he told the world's worst jokes and he hated your intense love of bad, corny, movies.

You considered him not just your boyfriend but one of your best friends. Not your absolute best friend because that bitch would murder Harry if he ever took her spot but he was close.

The only problem?

You'd managed to hide the fact you were diagnosed with depression for years. Any time any of your bouts of sadness seemed to hit he was conveniently out of town. By the time he came back they were close enough to being over that you could push through it. Pretend to be happy.

That's what you did best. Almost all the people in your life had no idea you struggled with a mental illness. That you had depression that fueled your anxiety which made your insomnia unbearable… which only made the depression worse.

It was a constant vicious cycle of depression, anxiety, and insomnia that you didn't want him to see. You liked being the person who made everyone laugh and have a great time.

You liked being the life of the party. Liked having fun and being adventurous but something in you would flip like a switch and suddenly you wouldn't be the same person anymore.

You'd spend days in bed, hardly moving, finding reasons to do your office job that you loved at home. You didn't see many people, blowing off your friends with excuses of being busy with work when really you were curled up in a ball in your bed staring at your bedroom wall, overthinking everything.

"Come on, what's t'big deal? I love ya and obviously y'not waitin' fo' marriage or anythin'." He said, laughing when you hit the jerk in the shoulder with the closest couch pillow.

"'M sorry but it was funny." He said with that annoying but oh so adorable sparkle in his eyes as he leaned his head back on your shoulder, sticking out his bottom lip to pout at you.

"Please move in? Pleeease?" He begged, pleading up to you with those bright green eyes you couldn't say no to.

"Fine but if you stop loving me that's your own fault." You sighed, settling on the fact that you didn't want your depression to hold you back.

If he loved you he would understand.

"Never gonna happen, love." He said leaning over to give you a kiss. Lips intertwining together causing the thoughts of worry to drift slowly from your mind.

>>>

It was only the first week of you two being moved in together when you felt that overwhelming sense of gray starting to edge its way into your mind. It was simple things at first, oversleeping, not feeling hungry, and not feeling up to doing much.

You easily chopped it up to the stress of moving and the adjustment period of getting used to living with someone else other than yourself. Telling yourself that there was no way you could be getting down when you had so much to be happy about.

Your nights after work were filled with nothing but cuddles on your couch. Pressed against Harry's chest as he read you the book you'd both settled on. Your fingers combing through his hair as you listened to every word pouring out of his mouth. Smiling softly as you nuzzled into his neck.

No, there was no way you could feel depressed when you had this to look forward to every night after a long day.

But you were wrong.

>>>

"Sunflower! 'M home!" Harry called out for you when he got back from the studio. A box of donuts in his hands as he shut the door behind him with his foot.

He could tell that you'd been feeling a bit off lately. You'd been sleeping more than you usually did. Complaining about your stomach being sick when he tried to get you to eat. Which never happened because you loved food.

When he rolled out of bed that morning to head to the studio you told him you were doing your office work from home. He thought it was odd since you usually loved going into your office. You'd been there so long that you considered almost everyone your close friend. Of course, you also didn't meet many people who weren't your friend which was one of the reasons Harry loved you in the first place.

You were always so sweet and kind. Going out of your way for people was something you didn't even bat an eye at. Your heart was made of pure gold and he loved seeing your smile light up a room anytime he took you out.

Lately though you'd been refusing to go with him to do things. Saying you had too much work to do. Something he tried to get you to stop doing to yourself. You had a bad habit of doing people's work for them when they gave you a half-assed reason why they couldn't do it.

He couldn't stand to see you work yourself to the point of stressing yourself out. Which is what he figured you were going through right now.

"Love?" He called for you again when you didn't respond. Throwing his keys and bag on the table haphazardly like he knew you hated but was slowly trying to break the habit of doing every day.

His eyebrows furrowed as he toed off his shoes. You usually came bolting down the hallway the second you heard his keys hit the kitchen table, telling him off for not putting them in the key bowl sitting by the front door. Something he didn't quite understand since you two usually ate in the living room and didn't even use the kitchen table unless people were over.

He walked through the quiet and dark house straight to the study. The door to the room jammed packed with his books creaked open revealing no one in there. Not even your laptop was in the room and nothing was out of place. It didn't even look like you'd been in there that day.

He closed the door behind him as he headed for the bedroom. He wasn't sure why you'd been in there since you said you had so much work to do and you were very adamant on no work being done in the bedroom. Saying it was only a place for sleep and sex.

When he finally got to your two's bedroom though he was surprised to find you curled up in a ball, buried under the thick comforter, asleep. Your hands gripping on the blankets as you huddled for warmth. Your easy breathing rising your chest gently up and down as you snoozed away peacefully.

A small smile formed on Harry's lips as he watched you for a second. This was exactly why he wanted you to move in, he loved seeing you already there when he got home. Even if you were asleep.

He placed the box of donuts on the bedside table before crawling into bed with you. The decompression of the mattress caused your eyes to flicker open as he laid behind you. His arm draped over your side as he pulled you closer to him.

"Mornin', love." He kissed your temple as you groaned in protest, not wanting to wake up since day time seemed to be the only time you could sleep anymore.

"Five more minutes." You mumbled, glaring at Harry when you heard him let out a small laugh.

"It's six in the evenin'. Y'won't sleep tonight if y'don't get up, baby." He said while his hand rubbed gently up and down your arm. The calluses on his fingertips scratched you slightly as you pulled away from him burying your face in the pillow.

"I'm sleepy." You complained, the pillow in your face muffling your voice.

"Y'never this sleepy." He said, pulling back from you slightly, brows furrowed in concern.

"I know. Just don't feel good." You shrugged as you rolled off the pillow to face him. You really should have told him then but the thought of him seeing you in a different light was terrifying. Logically, you knew he wouldn't judge you but the thought still loomed in your mind.

"Y'fevered?" He asked, touching your forehead with the back of his hand.

"No, nothing like that. Just tired." You sighed, wishing you weren't so much of a coward. Your teeth biting your bottom lip as your eyes darted away from his stare.

"Brought y'donuts. Those are always y'favorite." He said, hoping that would get you out of bed.

"Not hungry H. Wanna go back to sleep." You said, turning away from him again. You were so tired, your nights filled with nothing but restlessness and racing thoughts that somehow only subsided during the day.

"Y'stomach sick?" He asked, as he laid back down beside you. He wasn't sure what was going on with you but he could tell something was definitely wrong.

"Kind of." You said, Harry's mind racing with all the possibilities of what was going on with you.

Did anyone you know have the stomach flu? He didn't think so or at least you hadn't mentioned anything about it. Maybe it was the real flu he though but it wasn't the season for the flu and you'd be burning up if you had that. It could have been a common cold but you weren't sneezing or coughing.

His mind slowly started to piece things together for him. His eyes widening in realization before a small smile curled on his lips. He hugged you before pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You'd definitely needed all the sleep you could get if he was right.

"Alright, get some rest, darlin'. I'll come to get y'later." He smiled, turning to look at you with a weird glint in his eyes. "Love you."

"Love you too." You said, not sure what the hell had just happened but was glad he decided to leave you to your much-needed nap.

>>>

"I'll carry that." Harry said as he ripped the box from your hands. It had been the third time that day that he took boxes out of your hands that he deemed too heavy for you to carry out of your car from your storage building.

"H, why are you being so weird?" You sighed, rubbing your forehead, he'd been like this for weeks. His constant hovering was starting to become unbearably draining.

"'M not, don't want y'carryin' heavy stuff, that's all." He shrugged as he carried your box of photos to the attic as you plopped down on the couch.

It wasn't like he was going to let you unload your car yourself. He was already worked up about you clearing out your storage building yourself but it wasn't like you could keep things in there anymore. The rent had recently raised and really it was ridiculous for you to pay for a storage building when yours and Harry's place had an attic for storage.

"You should eat." Harry said sometime later in the evening when he had finished unloading your car for you.

"Not hungry." You replied, sitting up from the couch to stretch, your back cracking from how long you'd been sitting there not moving.

"Flower, please eat." He begged, his voice pleading with you as he sat down on the couch next to you.

"Harry, why is it a big deal?" You asked, turning to face him but you could tell he had suddenly gotten uncomfortable. You sighed, hands covering your face as you rubbed your eyes.

"You've been hovering over me for the past two weeks. What's going on with you?" You finally asked, hoping whatever it was could end quickly. You didn't have the energy to deal with everyday stuff let alone anything else.

"It's jus' y'know…" he mumbled, ears tinting pink as his eyes darted away from you. His hands fiddling with his rings as you raised an eyebrow at him.

"I don't know. Can you please tell me and start acting normal again?"

"'Ave you had your period this month?" He asked quickly, completely catching you off guard.

"What?" You had no idea what the hell that had to do with anything or why the heck he'd be worried about it.

"Y'know, y'period, 'ave y'had it?" He asked again, your forehead crinkling as you thought about it.

You hadn't had it yet but it was only one day late, which is completely normal for you when your stressed out from depression and not sleeping much. Your body liked to freak out on you when your emotional state wasn't the best.

"No?"

"And y'not eatin' and sick to y'stomach. Right?" He still looked anxious as he continued to question you. While you grew more and more confused by the second.

"Uhm, yes?"

At this point, you felt whatever his train of thought had been at the start of this conversation had completely gone off the rails. He wasn't making any sense whatsoever to you anymore. He might as well start speaking to you in a different language if he wanted to be this confusing.

"And y'tired and sleepin' all the time."

"Okay, what does that have to do with you acting funny?" You asked when you had finally had enough of his crazy questions.

"Y'pregnant." He said with a bright smile on his face that quickly faltered the second you busted out laughing at him. Your hand quickly covering your mouth when you realized he was now the confused one.

"Harry. I'm not pregnant." You said once you had finally calmed down enough to talk to him again.

"Y'are! That's why y'been so different lately." He said so passionately you almost felt bad for not being pregnant. The poor guy looked like you'd kicked his dog.

"H, I have depression." You said, finally telling him the truth about why you'd been acting so different.

His eyes flickered around your face then towards your stomach. The wheels in his mind turning as he realized all the signs he had misread.

"Why didn't y'tell me?" He asked quietly. The look on his face filling you with guilt.

"'Cause I don't like talking about it." You said, wanting to leave it there but you knew you owed him more of an explanation than that. Sighing as you reached out to hold his hand, your fingers absent-mindedly running across his rings as you tried to build the courage to talk about it so more.

"I get all weird and down. I don't like being like that so I don't bring it up a lot." You said finally breaking the silence he was giving you to talk freely about what was going on.

"We've been together fo' two years." He said, his fingers lacing through yours to stop your fidgeting.

"Yes, Harry, I'm very aware of how long we've been together." You rolled your eyes at him, a smile on your face until you saw the hurt look on his own.

"Why haven't I seen it before?" He asked, staring away from you and at the living room floor. Your heart sinking as you realized he was starting to blame himself for not seeing the signs.

"They always seemed to hit when you were out of town and before, when I wasn't living with you, it was easy to not show it. Like, I could be okay for a few hours when we hung out and I could go back home and it wasn't a big deal." You explained, pulling his attention back on you as you tried to casually brush off the fact you'd go through hard periods of time completely alone.

"'S a big deal. I wanna be there fo' yeh." He said tongue wetting his lips as you pouted at him. Your head resting on his shoulder, trying your best to be honest.

"That's why I'm telling you now. Sorry, it took me so long to say it. I didn't want you to look at me differently." You sighed, his hand tightening slightly, enough to make you raise your head up to look at him.

"I wouldn't ever look at y'differently, sunflower. I love you." He said, a smile on your face as you leaned forward and kissed him.

Even though you knew deep down that he'd always accept you and not judge you for your depression. Hearing him say the words made everything better.

"I love you too, H." You said when you pulled away from him. Your eyes were unable to stop watering as you looked at him.

"Don't cry, puppy." He said as his thumb brushed away your tears.

"Happy tears." You said through a laugh as you tried to wipe your open face dry of the water. A weight felt lifted off your shoulders knowing he'd always be there for you. Knowing you wouldn't have to carry the burden of depression alone anymore.

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x you #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Writing #Mine #Here Comes The Sun

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zevlors-tail · 4 years ago

Text

Retail Therapy

A/N: If you work retail like I do and get frustrated with your job on a weekly/daily basis, if you’re just fed up of all the crazy at work, this one’s for you! Covid has made it extra garbagey to work retail so here’s a little vent. Also, me writing soft Bakugou content? Yes.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shouto Todoroki

Warnings: Mentions of Covid in Bakugou’s part. Cursing. Customer invading your personal space (also in Bakugou’s part), tiny mention of anxiety in Todoroki’s scenario.

Summary: You’ve had the most infuriating day at work. Lucky for you, he knows just how to fix it.

Izuku Midoriya

Oh my god this gif is so bright i love it

“Hi baby!” Izuku greets you as you haphazardly toss your shoes on the floor, not caring where they land. One ends up under the dining room table and the other ends up somewhere among the chairs, but you could care less.

You’re pissed. More pissed than you’ve ever been, but specifically with work. You constantly feel like you’re babysitting your coworkers, and they never listen to anything you have to say, even when you’re put in charge of your department- if only for the night. Every time you turn your back, they’re pulling some sort of dumb stunt; how are you supposed to get work done like that? You can hardly focus on your own task when you’re trying to clean up after everyone else. Picking up slack is something you’re used to by now (unfortunately), but it shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to do your work and everyone else’s work too. Not to mention, you were tired of being the middle man whenever there was drama. Why did everyone feel the need to tell you everything?

“Ughhhh!” You just groan in response, half a smile on your face while a wild look enters your eyes. Izuku knows that look. He can tell you’re frustrated after a long day of work, that you’re at your wits end with your job. “I swear, Izu, I came this close to rage quitting. I mean I wouldn’t, because I’ve got bills to pay and stuff, but, just- this close.”

“Oh yeah?” He gives you a trademark smile despite your woes and invites you to follow him to the dining table where he sits down with you, taking your hand in his. “Tell me all about it.”

And you do. He listens diligently, nodding and getting into the gossip playfully, asking about certain coworkers and making silly comments to get you to laugh. Things like, “But they would never!” and “Oh my god, no they didn’t!” along with your personal favorite, a very dramatic “No!” He even makes over the top facial expressions to go with his comedic comments, and he has you laughing with him in no time, the stress of the day melting away under his electric green gaze. Your vent turns into more of a fun story than it does a bad experience. Izuku is a good listener and he’ll always be there for you.

“It was just ridiculous! Man, I can only take so much in one day. Usually I don’t let them get to me, but I couldn’t take both of them coming up to me every five minutes and complaining about each other. You know, as much as they like to talk about each other not doing their jobs, maybe they would get more work done if they just stopped talking and got back to work in the first place!” As you tell him your story, he hums a response, nods, and gets up from the table. He pats your head as he passes by you on the way to the kitchen, and you follow him with your gaze, questioning him silently.

“I’m still listening, love. I can hear you from here, promise! Do go on.”

You continue, not paying much mind to what he’s doing since you’re so engrossed in your tale of idiocy and annoyance turned silly. And he is listening to you, still making eye contact as he moves about the kitchen, still putting his two cents every once in a while. But before you know it, a savory smell hits your nose, and you realize he’s not only started dinner but that he’s practically finished with it by the time you’re done talking. He wastes no time in making two plates and bringing them over, setting one in front of you and the other in front of his usual spot.

You’re extremely grateful to him for taking the initiative to make dinner while you de-stressed after the day’s events, and you make sure to tell him that as you both dig in to his cooking. He learned from the best (bless mama Midoriya). You’re reminded that no matter how bad your day has been, you get to come home to your favorite human being on the whole planet and love him, and be loved by him in return.

“Thanks for making dinner, Izuku. You’re truly the love of my life.” You say it in such a manner that makes your partner laugh, bits of food falling from his mouth as he struggles to swallow properly. “That’s attractive,” you tease, but you’re laughing too. It’s a happy moment for the both of you.

“Good to know you only love me for my cooking!” He jokes. He eyes your plate before not so subtly reaching over and stealing a piece of food. You gasp in mock surprise, but save your revenge for later. There are plenty of ways to get even with him. But for now...

Izuku: 1

Y/N: 0

Katsuki Bakugou

soft bb

“Shit, fuck! God, I hate today!” you exclaim as you slam the car door shut. Bakugou had been kind enough to pick you up from work, and you were glad that it was him driving and not you behind the wheel. You were shaking in your seat, your hands trembling in anger and teeth grinding in frustration as you glared out of the window silently for a moment.

“Bad day?” Bakugou asked gruffly, foot gently pressing against the gas peddle as you took off on the drive home.

“Yeah, you would not fucking believe people. You’d think everyone would listen to directions and stay home since it’s like, oh, I don’t know- the middle of a fucking pandemic?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. People are stupid. Don’t let them get to you, baby.”

Maybe those words were odd coming from him considering he used to be so angry all the time himself, but Bakugou had really mellowed out since his days at UA, and he knew how to hold his tongue. Unbeknownst to him, however, this was more than a bad day for you. Bad days you could let go of, but this- this was something else. Not quite the worst time you’d ever had at work, but much more than a bad day. Today had been somewhere in between the two, and you weren’t sure what to call it. You’d been yelled at, berated, understaffed, and blamed for pretty much all the problems going on in your specific area even though you were trying your best. There was only so much you could do yourself, and even though you knew it was better to just let it go, you couldn’t. Especially not after what that wretched customer had done to you.

“I’m trying not to, but it’s really god damned hard not to fucking smack a bitch when they invade your personal space and tap on your shoulder. In a fucking pandemic. Actually, I don’t even think she was wearing a mask now that I think about it. How considerate of her.” The words are like venom spitting from your mouth, your fists clenching as you vent to your partner in confidence.

“They did what?” Normally he’s good about keeping his anger in check. Normally, he could handle you venting to him about anything. But someone else touching his Y/N? No way in hell. And during a period of time where touching people was especially rude and inconsiderate? Fucking no way in hell.

“Yeah! Tapped me right on the damn shoulder and didn’t even say excuse me. Words exist! Just tell me you need something and I’ll get it for you! I hate people who do that shit, it’s so unnecessary and rude! And it violates my personal space and creeps me out. I feel disgusting. If you touch me at work, then I’m not liable for anything that happens to you! You get slapped? Then that’s on you, bitch! Don’t fucking touch me!” You finish up your speech with a wild hand gesture, your head shaking in disbelief while you try not to think about too much.

It takes Bakugou everything he has not to just slam on the breaks right then and there and put the car in reverse to drive back to the store and find that piece of trash. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for the next best thing: comforting you and making sure you’re okay. You did just have your personal space violated after all, so it’s understandable you’re pretty shaken up and angry about the whole thing. He would be too, honestly.

The rest of the short drive home is mostly silent, save for the small talk you make with each other and the quiet background noise of the radio station that he let you pick. His general rule of thumb is that the driver picks the music, but he knows you’ve had a hard day, so he doesn’t argue when you change it to your preferred station and start drumming your fingers to the beat. He’d rather you wind down this way than keeping it all bottled up. When the two of you finally arrive to your shared home, you let your shoulders fall a bit and sigh as you trudge to the couch, not even bothering to take your shoes off before plopping down and face planting into the soft cushions. You listen as Bakugou wanders off to the bedroom and returns a moment later with a shirt in his hands.

“You said you felt disgusting earlier, so I brought you a new shirt to change into. Figured you probably didn’t want to stay in your work clothes.” His tone is softer, a little more careful since you’re home now and he knows you don’t like to fall apart in public. Home is where your true heart is, with him. If you’re feeling any sort of negative emotion, it’s more likely to come out here. And he wants to offer his help, but... “Do you want some help with it?”

You shift so that you’re sitting up on the couch and raise your arms slightly for him. “That would be nice, since I’m utterly exhausted and worn out. I’d really appreciate it,” you reply honestly.

He hesitates a bit, unsure of something before he asks you a question. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Your response is immediate. “Of course it is; I trust you. I never mind your touch.”

He smiles at that.

He helps you get changed into the ultra comfy shirt he brought you, and after that the two of you heat up some leftovers before cuddling up in bed together, the worst of the day washed away by Bakugou’s soft fingers running along your side as you lay your head on his chest.

“Thanks for always taking care of me. You do an amazing job at it.” You yawn into his shirt and snuggle your face against it, the soft cotton making you feel safe and secure.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Shouto Todoroki

I’m feeling extra soft for Todoroki recently

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day at-”

Before Shouto can even finish his sentence, you’re flying into a vent about work, passing right by him on your way to the bathroom as you start to pull of your work uniform angrily.

“Oh my god, it was an absolute disaster!” You’re still breathing heavy from all the stress, eyes darting around wildly and face flushed from being mad and under pressure all night.

“What happened, love?” Todoroki coaxes gently. He comes to stand in the door frame of the bathroom and leans against it, his hands in his pockets and hip cocked out to the side. He has a sympathetic look on his face as you explain all your troubles of the day.

“Everything, Shouto. Everything happened. I mean, not everything, but it sure felt like it! Our delivery showed up late, and we didn’t have product all afternoon, so our customers were really angry and I kept getting yelled at! It’s not my fault it showed up late! If I had the product to put out I would! It’s complete and utter bullshit!” You make your way to the bedroom to pick out pajamas, not really caring about the pair you take out of the drawer or anything else for that matter. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: your day at work.

Sometimes you had a hard time winding down from work, especially on days like these, and Shouto knew that. You usually were able to separate work from home fairly well, but occasionally you just needed a little reminder that it didn’t have to follow you home to bed, and he knew how to help with that. He’d seen you like this before, had witnessed your break downs and freak outs over your job and the stress that came with it. Retail was not for everyone. Todoroki always told you that you had the patience of a saint, though everyone had their own limits, and you must have hit yours tonight.

“I don’t appreciate being called names and told that I’m practically useless. Customers can be real fucking snobs all the time. And I was trying so hard too, but even after the delivery showed up, it was busy as hell, and every time I put something up on the shelf they just kept taking it down! I think I sold through at least three boxes of something I normally have to throw away at the end of the week. Seriously! It was a mess, and we didn’t have enough staff because one of us was still suspended, and our normal person who works the backroom doesn’t work weekends, and even our supervisor called off, so it was just me and this other girl. It was awful. I can’t even- ugh! It’s not fair!”

You started to work yourself up, your anxiety skyrocketing as you thought of everything that went wrong earlier. Rationally you knew there wasn’t much you could do about the situation, but that didn’t mean you felt the same way. You should have done more, pushed yourself harder, but you also didn’t want to stay and work overtime on an empty stomach and not a lot of sleep the night before. Shouto must have seen the guilt in your eyes, because the next thing you knew you were being moved to the bed where he wrapped you in the softest blanket he could find, and then he was telling you he’d be right back as he slipped out of the room.

You sat there, a little confused for a while, before you heard a beeping noise from the kitchen and the door to the microwave open and close. Todoroki returned with a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other, and he said nothing as he set the book and cup down on the nightstand before working around you, positioning a few pillows against the headboard of the bed. He fluffed them up a few times and grabbed the giant comforter, pulling it up over your lap and practically swaddling you. Finally he sat down behind you on the bed and pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head against his chest as he petted your hair softly. Slowly, you felt all the tension from earlier on in the day ebb away into drowsiness and exhaustion.

“Alright, blanket burrito,” he said, referring to your form all wrapped up in soft cotton, “I warmed up a cup of your favorite drink and brought us a book. Do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer to play a video game or movie?” He gazed down at you with a brow raised in question, a look of amusement on his face at the sight of your head just barely peeking out from the blankets.

“If you don’t mind, could you read to me? I like your voice...it’s soothing.” You melted into his touch, work already forgotten about and a wave of calm washing over you.

“Of course, dear.” He gave you a precious smile and kiss on the top of your head.

Todoroki always knew how to fix your bad days, and he always did so without hesitation and without you having to ask. He handed you the warm mug first which you took gratefully, and then picked up the book and began reading to you.

How did you get this lucky?

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xiyao-feels · 3 years ago

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A-Qing

-She usually only tells her name to people who are nice to her (XY is apparently an exception, as she doesn't like how he calls her Little Blind)

-Although she remains suspicious of XY, she is very pleased with the results of his helping XXC shop for vegetables, and even praises him some.

-After XXC dies, she keeps trying to find the big cultivation clans, WWX concludes to help get revenge for him. :(

-SL takes the Spirit-trapping Pouch that has her remnants in it, as well as the pouch that has XXC's :'(

Her habits regarding her name: Exiled Rebels, ch. 39:

A-Qing, “I have a name. I’m not called Little Blind.”

Xue Yang, “You didn’t tell me your name, so I could only call you this.”

A-Qing had always told her name only to people who were nice to her, but she didn’t like the way Xue Yang said it, so she told him, “Listen up. My name is A-Qing. Don’t keep on calling me Little Blind and Little Blind!”

Her pleasure with the vegetable-buying help: Exiled Rebels, ch. 40:

-Xiao XingChen had always been responsible for the three’s meals. Since he was blind, he didn’t know how to select vegetables and was too embarrassed to bargain with others. When he went out alone, it was fine if the vendors were nice, but he sometimes met vendors who purposely took advantage of his blindness. The vegetables that he brought back would be lacking in either quality or quantity. Xiao XingChen didn’t care much himself, or one could say that he didn’t really pay attention to the matter, but A-Qing was often infuriated. In a seething manner, she’d demand to shop for ingredients alongside Xiao XingChen. Unfortunately, even though she could see, she couldn’t express anything. She didn’t dare throw tantrums and knock down the stalls in front of Xiao XingChen either. This was when Xue Yang became useful. With keen eyes and a sharp tongue that came with his delinquent self, if he went outside with them, whenever they wanted to buy something, the first thing he’d do was to shamelessly bargain the price down to a half. If the vendor agreed, he’d bargain even further; if the vendor didn’t, he’d put on a menacing look, and the vendors would start thinking that they were lucky somebody like him would decide to pay at all, hoping for him to leave as soon as possible. Presumably, when he was roaming freely in Kuizhou and Lanling, he probably didn’t have to pay anything for the things he wanted. Now that A-Qing had her anger vented out, out of happiness, she even praised him a few times. And, thanks to the delightful candy everyday, since then, for a short length of time, a delicate peace was maintained between A-Qing and Xue Yang.

However, she could never let down her guard for Xue Yang. The short periods of peace were also often immediately suppressed by multiple doubts and suspicions.

Seeking cultivators after XXC's death: Exiled Rebels, ch. 41:

At this point, A-Qing had probably already been on the run for a couple of days. She was walking in an unfamiliar town, holding a bamboo pole and pretending to be blind again. She asked whoever came toward her, “Excuse me, are there any big sects around here?”

“Excuse me, are there any really powerful people around the area? Powerful people who cultivate.”

Wei WuXian thought to himself, She’s searching for people who can help her seek revenge for Xiao XingChen.

Unfortunately, nobody took her questions seriously. They’d often walk away after just a few half-hearted sentences. A-Qing wasn’t discouraged, either. She tirelessly asked, even if she had been shooed away all those times. Seeing that she couldn’t get any answers here, she left and went on a smaller path.

She had been walking and asking for an entire day. Exhausted, she dragged her heavy legs toward a brook. She cupped her hands and drank a few sips of the water, soothing her dry throat. Through the water, she saw a wooden hairpin in her hair, and reached for it.

SL taking the Spirit-trapping Pouch with her inside: Exiled Rebels, ch. 42:

After a moment of silence, Wei WuXian took out two Spirit-trapping Pouches of the same small size. He handed them to Song Lan, “Daozhang Xiao XingChen and Maiden A-Qing.”

Even though A-Qing was extremely scared of Xue Yang, a while ago, she still followed closely behind the one who killed her, refusing to let him dodge or escape until, finally, he was pierced through the heart by Bichen and got what he deserved. From a slap of the talisman, she had almost disappeared. Wei WuXian only brought back a few fragments by searching and piecing as hard as he could. However, now, it was also rather scattered, the same as Xiao XingChen.

Of the two lumps of weak souls, each was curled up in its Spirit-trapping Pouch. It was as if just a slight bump would cause them to dissipate within the pouch. With shaking hands, Song Lan took them over and rested them on top of his palm. He didn’t even dare to carry them by the strings, afraid that they’d sway too much.

[...]

He still wore the dark cultivation robes. Standing alone, he carried two swords, Shuanghua and Fuxue, he brought two souls, Xiao XingChen and A-Qing, and walked another path.

Not the one that led them to Yi City.

#also she's very clever and quick on her feet and a fantastic actor #yi city neighbours

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dazais-guardian-angel · 4 years ago

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Time for my feels dump thoughts on Diabolical Box...! y’all, this game. this game. I don’t think people give it enough credit for... a lot of what it does, despite the messiness of the plot reveals... but it’s so special and unique, in ways I’m only now appreciating. also this is gonna be really REALLY fucking long I am so sorry, but I have a Lot to say about the ending parts... i just love this game so much...... so i wrote a fucking novel bc of course i did.

also i played this in October, completely unintentionally, so that’s noice.

The amount of voice acting and cutcenes in this compared to CV is amazing, I love it so much, even if it is funny sometimes the dialogue they choose to voice and then abruptly cut off a few lines later.

I had COMPLETELY forgotten about Luke jumping on Chelmey and trying to rip his face off and it’s just the funniest fucking thing omg; Hershel in the background going “NO LUKE THAT’S HIS FACE” is comedic gold.

Will we ever know what Hershel was going to say when Chelmey asked him what Luke’s relationship to him was... dammit Luke why’d you have to cut him off.

Hershel calling the hamster “generously proportioned” is amazing. also “I’ve always said that helping rodents in need is among the duties of every true gentleman” Hershel... please tell me what other situations have made you say that... please...

Why is there an entire subplot about finding this Karen’s dog, just to make Chelmey look like even more of an idiot? if they needed to pad the game out more, they definitely could have done it with flashbacks or in places that I’m... ahem... emotionally invested in

Flora’s treatment in this game is so infuriating to me, like... why did they think this was a good idea? What was the point of bringing her into the plot for NO other reason than to be kidnapped and impersonated? Was it literally just because they needed a way for Hershel and Luke to run into Don Paolo and get the box back from him??? Why couldn’t, idk, Katia run into him in Dropstone and get the box from him and save Flora, that would still get the box to her and keep Flora in the group, and it would tip them off to Katia being related to all this even earlier, and Don Paolo could still be shown there if he absolutely has to make an appearance in each game. I know it’s because he has to be built up and then revealed, and because Hershel always has to have a dramatic point-n’-reveal every game, but whyyyyyy does it have to be at the expense of Flora. :))))) It would have been interesting to see her reactions to Folsense and Anton and everything, and not have Katia be the only female involved in all this; maybe she could, you know, actually have a personality!! hahaaaa who am I kidding...

beluga: “it’s already been a year since she passed away” me: whythehellyoucryingsodamnloud.jpg

Anderson talking about Dropstone and the sacrifices made to found it and how it can’t die out like “other towns”... with the song playing... whythehellyoucryingsodamnloud.jpg

The sheer coincidence of Katia going to Folsense on the same day that Hershel and Luke would end up in Dropstone and then there, and on the 50th anniversary of the town... not a likely one.

Didn’t some versions of the game come with a real version of the train ticket to Folsense? I want it D:

i also want a real Elysian Box, like can i commission someone to make one minus the whole you know actual gold, please, i’ll pay aNYTHING- *sobs*

LUKE HOW COULD YOU FORGET THAT HERSHEL IS AN ARCHEOLOGIST, AFTER ALL THE ARCHEOLOGICAL SHIT YOU’VE BEEN THROUGH

Hershel to “Flora”: “you’re as white as a sheet!” Don Paolo, minutes ago while the others aren’t looking: *furiously powdering his face mask or some shit*

Why was Anton’s diary lying in the street though... it doesn’t make sense that Katia or Beluga would have it, and they couldn’t open it anyhow. probably just a gameplay thing that should go unquestioned but I want to knowwww lol. Also wish Hershel and Luke had reactions to the entries.

Ilyana tho. Also bootleg Clive asdfghjkl

I LOVE THE TOWER OF HANOI PANCAKE PUZZLES

Am I the only one who doesn’t understand the obsession with the tea set... like yeah it’s fun to serve tea when you actually get it right, but I’m stuck with like two recipes missing and getting frustrated just trying and trying countless ingredient combinations on end because some of the npcs are NOT helpful enough in telling what to make :))))

Obviously Katia can’t reveal anything or say anything about why she’s there at all to keep the suspense till the end, but it would have been cool to see her working together with them and making a plan to get into the castle and help Anton aka I just wanted more scenes with Anton being nice and not flying into a rage over a misunderstanding ugh

It’s honestly pretty impressive some of the deductions/connections Chelmey makes in this game, despite his... other incredibly stupid ones lol

“iSnT iT oBvIoUs?”

WHY DOES HERSHEL RISK KILLING LUKE (AGAIN) WITH THE BOX. And why tf does it not do anything to them since they assumed it would...?

The biggest mystery of the series is how Pavel gets where he does, truly

The music in the forest is truly one of the best osts, god I love it. I also adore the Herzen Castle ost now, I never really noticed it before but it is WONDERFULLY creepy and heavy and melancholic and just... idk, those harpsicords go hard. damn.

Opening the Elysian Box is the best puzzle in the series, because of the meaning behind it. Or at least, it’s my favorite for that reason :^)

Alright folks so I’m gonna be completely, unabashedly honest here, and reveal myself to be the superficial, shallow fucker I am lmao: Anton is super hot and I’m still attracted to him even now, and I hate that we get so little time with younger him dklslskdfkflssd I AM SORRY I CAN’T HELP IT OKAY. BLAME THE VOICE ACTOR, HE HAD NO RIGHT TO SOUND SO UNEXPECTEDLY DEEP AND INCREASE ANTON’S HOTNESS LEVEL BY 1000%... just. god damn. damn. the dining room scene. the lighting. the way he puts his hands down and closes his eyes at one point. the way he says Herzen. the freaking sass with “chalk it up to my bad taste then.” the little clap. his entire design which just oozes Victorian era anime bishie beauty. kudos to the character designer who was like “well they said make someone cool and handsome and i wasn’t sure what to do but i tried and i guess it worked out” GOOD SIR BOY DID YOU SUCCEED. how dare this man turn me on so much, fUCK. And I know it’s super shitty of me to not like his old design as much!!! but just!!! why the beak nose.... why.... he was so gorgeous and then you give him the Bronev nose treatment..... i’m already so sad over the ending but you make him look so much sADDER, THE SADDEST POSSIBLE DESIGN FOR OLDER ANTON. It’s not that I mind him being old, I just wish he looked more like himself... there didn’t need to be such a drastic change. But I know I’m just being petty lmao. anyway stan Anton for most beautiful PL character always 🙏 Descole and Clive’s hotness have nothing on this man

*ahem* But to get back to serious topics, replaying this now when I’m older, with the ones after it in mind, I think I finally realize why this game stands out to me so much from the others, making it my favorite. To put it as best I can, Diabolical Box, to me at least, just has a different feel from all the other PL games. Yes, it’s still definitely a Layton game, you still investigate a mystery, there’s still puzzles everywhere, it still has a relaxing city or country feel to the atmosphere, there’s still lots of charm, but once you hit Folsense and the climax and the ending reveals, the tone sort of... shifts? Not drastically, but enough that’s different from any point in all the other games that I can remember; I feel like Last Spector might have the closest kind of atmosphere to Folsense at certain parts, but even then the plot of that game is nowhere near to having the same tone as this one. Diabolical Box, when you really look close at it and think about it, is dark. Dark in a way that none of the other games are, despite the darkness some of the others do have. And I think part of that is because almost every other game/movie is connected to the overarching story involving Hershel’s past and people involved with him, and so the drama and angst is very much grounded in London or other places Hershel would be/was, and in his time, but Diabolical Box is unique in that the story and characters in it have nothing to do with him. And to reflect this, Anton and Sophia’s story is based in the early 1900′s, the Victorian era, in a city so far separated from, again, everything to do with Hershel, that if you were to just watch their story by itself and take the professor and Luke out of it, and you knew nothing about the series, you could reasonably argue that it isn’t from a Professor Layton game at all. What I mean is that Anton’s story could be an entire anime all on its own surely it’s not obvious how badly I want that, nope, not at all, completely separate from this series, and it would work; it could be its own period era-esque drama series, still with all the supernatural shit intact later on. I can think of a few existing anime similar to what I’m imagining.

And I really do think it would be amazing, because like I said this story is terribly, terribly dark, and sad; as a PL game, like a lot of the other ones, it can’t go deep into the nitty gritty of what makes Anton’s story so fucking depressing, but just like... Imagine it. Imagine being alone, for so long in that castle, so long that you don’t even know how long it’s been anymore, with virtually no one, after having your heart broken and being abandoned by the person you loved the most, and who you thought loved you, and getting no closure about it. This long post goes a ton of detail about Anton’s character and things he was probably feeling/reasons for his behavior, but in short, Anton’s mother is never mentioned, so combined with how distant he was from his father and the fact that he feels alone in his role in society and that no one truly sees him as a real person, it’s quite possible that he clung to Sophia unconsciously as a mother figure, and, in general, she was the only person who made him feel seen, and loved. The only exception was Beluga, but Beluga leaves the town and Anton behind after quarreling with their father, so... It’s just extremely apparent when you read the diary entries and his dialogue (with the voice acting) that Anton was always alone and terribly insecure, and that Sophia made him the happiest he ever was - and so her leaving him was devastating to him. He was alone for fifty years (and who knows how long it actually felt, to him), in a lonely castle and emptying town, his entire family either left or dead, his body slowly aging without him even knowing it, while he had a daughter and granddaughter born without even knowing it, and all the while he’s left with the misunderstanding that Sophia might have loved someone “better” than him all along, never getting answers, having to live with all that grief and guilt and blame and jealousy and self-hatred over a situation that wasn’t even entirely true. Imagine what your MENTAL STATE would be like, jfc it’s a miracle he’s as sane as he is in the game!! Not to mention everything that crashes down on him within TEN MINUTES AT THE END. Yes, Unwound Future and the prequels very purposefully heap the angst on with Clive/Dimitri and Descole respectively, like “we are trying so hard to make you feel for this guy cry cry cry” and I fall for it like the trash i am love them too, don’t get me wrong, but Anton’s tragedy is much more understated but in my opinion is by far the absolute saddest of them all. I just... i’m crying y’all, this poor man. give him a fucking HUG. Anton Did Nothing Wrong 2k20; he doesn’t even hurt the people he lures in with his vampire scheme!! he lets them go without a scratch!!! what a guy... give him a hug and blankets please i love him so much, him and Sophia- *sobs*

and also as a side note, I honestly think Descole/Desmond would fit perfectly into this game for a lot of these reasons, in the trend of “trying to fit Descole into the first trilogy”; he’s got the right Aesthetic™ for one thing, but mainly just he and Anton have a LOT in common...! actually, now that I think about it, Randall and Anton do too, but I much prefer the notion of Descole and Anton interacting. honestly, I’m toying with the idea of an AU where Desmond and resurrected Aurora end up in Folsense and solve that mystery themselves instead of Hershel and Luke; i think it’d be fascinating.

However, by the same token, as much as I LOVE this game and characters for all of those reasons... it also makes no fucking sense ahaha. How the FUCK does the gas work. The illness that started killing people when the ore was first unearthed and is the reason everyone starts leaving, is THAT from the gas I assume?? but like why?? cause eventually it just turns to making the town appear as it was years ago and keeping people young, so...? ARE ALL THE TOWNSPEOPLE NOT ACTUALLY THERE, OR THEY ARE AND ARE JUST YOUNG LIKE ANTON; I’m still not clear on this!! because Hershel at the end says they’re illusions, and yet when you talk to the npcs so many of them complain about being tired and feeling old, so what is the truth!! It would make sense if newcomers see the town as it is in the pictures, but there’s no reason for them to not age... in fact, I don’t understand where the not aging thing comes from at ALL, since if the idea is that the gas makes what you think will happen happen, how tf did that even come about in the first place??? There’s no way everyone who inhaled the gas would think the exact same things and have the exact same hallucination. And if fifty years passed in reality, how long did it feel like to Anton/others; surely it couldn’t have been that long if they never questioned why they weren’t aging? If the gas in the box put Schrader in a coma, what was his theory about what would happen? Why does nothing happen to Hershel and Luke upon opening it when they clearly assume something will happen? Related to other things, how does the box become the source of a rumor, and how does Schrader even get it? Do people just assume Anton is dead or otherwise gone, or do they know/assume he’s still in the castle but don’t try to see him because of the vampire? Does Beluga know Anton is still there, if he does it’s pretty shitty of him to ignore him, and why does he think the box has to do with the fortune of all things if he possibly knew Sophia wanted it and knew it had something to do with her and Anton (seriously I don’t understand Beluga, I really wish they’d done more with him; he looks so shitty even if you give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he knew the least amount possible)??? Did Sammy know that the drugged flowers related to getting into Folsense? Did Katia know how to get into Folsense, and what was she planning to do if she never found the box in order to prove she was who she said she was? Why do some of the npcs act like they know the deep dark secret of Folsense and keep saying Hershel and Luke don’t need to know, and keep talking about the town being cursed, like do they really know the truth?? Or not??? LEVEL-5 I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS AND I’M TOO DUMB TO FIGURE OUT THE ANSWERS. EVEN LAYTON VS. WRIGHT’S STUPID REVEALS MAKE MORE SENSE THAN THIS AAAAAHHHH

anyway DB best game anton hot Even with all the weirdness though that makes this game the most Layton the Layton series has ever Layton’d lmao, I still love Diabolical Box so damn much. I love it so much, guys. It’s not part of a huge narrative, it’s not connected to the main characters; it tells its own little story and it does that perfectly. It’s so unique from all the rest, like I said, the plot has so much depth I don’t really see talked about, Anton and Sophia’s story is so beautifully tragic and underrated on a mature level that none of the other games really reach, and despite how upset I am we don’t get to see more of them, their love story is so impactful and emotional just from what little we do see, despite some of the oddities of how it plays out... they’re so sweet together and I cry so damn much over them ಥ⌣ಥ Iris is one of the most beautiful and touching songs in the series, too, and my favorite. And I’m a sucker for the Victorian era and cute romance lmao, so it just gets me like nothing else does... it’s so wonderful. saddest PL game, I will die on this hill. Even if I seem to talk a lot more about some of the other games/characters simply because there’s more content to talk about and there’s more to say about the more flawed content. you can’t improve perfection *chef’s kiss*, deep down, I think, this game will always be my favorite. ❤️

#professor layton #professor layton spoilers #meta #'thoughts post' more like Dana Rants An Entire Novel of Feels #but what is tumblr for if not this amiright #anton and sophia utterly destroy me and they always will #there's not much shown but what IS shown is so goddamn devastating and painful and bittersweet #i don't ship much but they're one of my otps so u know they good :')#i wanted to say even more here but i felt so guilty for how fucking massive this post was alksdfkfl;ss i cut some of it out already #i can kinda relate to Anton though tbh.... not getting closure on a relationship ending is truly painful; it's one of the worst things ever #so i feel for him </3 #and i love him #protect anton herzen always #and stan DB always

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brokebuckkmountain · 4 years ago

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Today was the worst

(long rant ahead, mostly about workplace politics with irl problems sprinkled in for flavor)

So. I’ve already been in my feelings lately due to like: life sucking, it’s the plague times, I am struggling to find a psychiatrist despite being told it was imperative I get help immediately, it’s winter and winter makes me sad, I’m losing friendships left and right thx to Miss Rona, I hate my job, yesterday was the one year anniversary of my breakup, there’s tons of gossip about me at work for things I genuinely did not say, and some of my work buddies are ignoring me for no apparent reason (including my best friend who has been ignoring me since my literal birthday a month ago? It’s all her friends that are ignoring me to it’s hard not to think it’s something related to that). Also, those PMS mood swings are a bitch.

I wanted today to be a good day. I wanted to get up early. I wore my new clothes and new perfume and was excited to train a coworker I genuinely like who was never trained when she was hired a year ago and struggles to get through her shifts. I mean I volunteered to do it for free because she deserves the help. But no no. Today was not a good one.

-I was woken up at 3 am to a litany of text messages from an ex asking to hook up again. Promptly fell back asleep and missed my later alarm, causing me to have to skip my workout this am and rush my shower.

-My boss didn’t assign my trainee online learning or make a schedule, told me I was a “strong enough trainer” to just do what I felt needed to be done. That was all he said to me, no further instruction. This is important later. Trainers and trainees are considered non-coverage and I run into an issue with this everytime I train- shifts want us on the floor doing different tasks than what I’m actually teaching. I personally think being a little backed up for 30 minutes is preferable to new hires not knowing how to do things because they never got one on one time, but most supervisors think otherwise.

-My trainee and I had about 25 minutes until our joint lunch break. She had expressed to me that knowing more about the mechanics of coffee- what is the body of a shot, why does it expire, what’s the difference between blonde and regular- was helping her, so I decided 25 minutes whizzing through that part of training before lunch was fine. I was immediately chastised by someone we’ll call Manager 1 because that “isn’t part of the training”. It very much is, and is available on every training resource, it just never gets taught because of time constraints and corporate not really caring about coffee quality. Manager 1 has consistently made a scene every time I train a new hire over us doing training and not just whatever she wants to get done. Manager 1 is also known for berating almost every one, and has lied about altercations that never happened between me and customers before to our manager. So she’s not exactly a fan favorite of mine. I maintained that the coffee basics was part of training and returned to the back, planning to use that time to do coffee basics and more memory games for drink recipes.

-After about 5 minutes, my coworker came to the back and told me the two managers wanted us out there helping. I went out alone to tell Manager 2 (who was technically in charge and generally less awful) what we were working on and asked if they really needed us or if they’d be okay. She said they needed us and Manager 2 began snapping that we were floor coverage, that my trainee was supposed to be on the floor all day, and that she had no business in the back “staring at a computer screen” (which we were not doing, but I digress). Since this is about the fourth time I’ve had this issue with this particular manager, I responded that we were supposed to be doing whatever I felt needed to be done, not working the floor. When they maintained that they were “under the impression” from our boss that my trainee and I were to remain on the floor all day, and we were coverage, I said “I guess I got confused by the dashed lines on the schedule that signify non-coverage as us being non-coverage” and went to get my trainee.

-My trainee knew the situation because she had overheard, got super nervous, and started making drinks wrong that she had been making correctly all day. During this time I overheard Manager 1 and Manager 2 not-quietly discussing them both texting our boss to complain about me. Fair, I guess, since I planned on doing the same when I was on my lunch. At one point they both left the bar area to send their texts and squat by the safe while waiting for it to unlock (it’s on a timer and beeps when it’s ready, no need to hover) which only infuriated me more- they moved us to bar so they could leave it. When it was finally our lunch time I sent my trainee and was pulled aside by Manager 2. I tried to move the conversation to the break room (something I have always been adamant about- not publicly berating coworkers in front of others) but she stayed on the floor where multiple people were and reprimanded me for my bad attitude. I told her I was never instructed to stay on the floor, had a schedule, and would’ve been more flexible if they had actually spoken to me rather than yelling and demanding. She maintained that I had a bad attitude and needed to follow orders. I said, once again, “mutual respect goes both ways, if you want me to incorporate things into my training schedule then you need to have an actual conversation with me about it and not demand it at random”. She said that as my superior I wasn’t allowed to “talk back” (ignoring my point that they had both, indeed, begun yelling at me) and told me my bad attitude “wasn’t a good look” and that she didn’t feel I was understanding. I said I understood perfectly that I shouldn’t be rude, but that they shouldn’t yell at me either, and I wasn’t going to take unprofessional yelling to pull me off my job as a trainer. Manager 2 didn’t listen to a word I said and kept going “you can’t have an attitude, do you understand?” so after a period of staring at her silently I said “Can I clock out for my lunch now and proceed with training?” and walked away.

-After lunch I was able to continue training, only because that part of the training constituted us being on the floor helping. I apologized profusely to my trainee for putting her in that situation, reassuring her that regardless of who was in the “right” or the personal issues of the people on the floor, my first priority was her being able to successfully learn and feel comfortable. She told me she had a hard time focusing on drinks and was anxious after the scene, and that she felt the public reprimanding I received was far out of line and unprofessional. I told her I knew that, but being as it was two managers against one me, I would probably still receive a write up tomorrow morning and not to let it worry her when it did go down (tomorrow is our final day of training and my last day before a long break from work, so I know it’s going to happen in front of her). She said she would talk to my boss on my behalf and I told her not to worry, I didn’t want her pulled into workplace drama, but she insisted it wasn’t right (she is considerably older than everyone in the workplace and I think a little protective of me since we volunteered together and I’m the only one who doesn’t chastise her for small mistakes). We’ll see if she says anything tomorrow but I don’t want her to feel like she has to “go to bat” for me and involve herself in unnecessary drama against people who will lash out at her.

-While trying to clock out, I overheard Manager 2 trying to get other coworkers of mine to give accounts against our boss to his superior over not liking their scheduling. Perhaps I’m biased, because I am friends with my boss and literally vacationed with him this summer, but he is the type to listen to concerns and always give people the benefit of the doubt. I’ve never seen him give a write up and he bends over backwards to accommodate people. So whatever their issues are, something tells me they haven’t brought it up to him. Manager 2 frequently breaks safety protocols because she “doesn’t care if she gets Covid” and has vacationed out of state many times resulting in us not allowing her to come back to work and being short staffed. Despite this, I’ve never given my boss her name when he asks who is breaking safety protocols. Manager 2 is well known for being deeply unpleasant, her and my boss have been at odds for years from working together at another location, and has frequently tried to egg on other employees to get our boss in trouble while refusing to make any formal complaints herself. If you’ve been following for a while, she’s the same ass-kisser who used to say my old boss could break any rules she wanted and allowed herself to be constantly demeaned in hopes of a promotion (10 years without a promotion and she thinks it’s unfair rather than realizing she’s mean and unpleasant, chooses to attack the people who do get the promotions she wants). I know there’s a way to spin those two plotting against my boss as a way to cast some doubt on their accounts of me, but no way to do it without being a blatant shit disturber who’s just retaliating. Which is not how I want to live my life. But he deserves a heads up.

-Now I’m sitting at home with an arts and craft project I came up with to give my coworkers all a gift before the New Year and no desire to do it. Like, fuck these people, why should I do something nice for them? Even though I know the majority are good people, just not the ones in management. No energy, completely lethargic (yay depressive episode and still no antidepressants because I can’t get ahold of a goddamn psychiatrist even though my GP okayed the antidepressants herself), wishing I just could get a better job but I need the insurance at mine. It’s one thing to be constantly belittled and insulted by customers (and a very big thing, at that), but to get it from coworkers too just makes me feel awful, day in and day out. I know I’ve hated my job for the entire 3 and a half years I’ve been there and bemoaned how much less interwork drama I’ve had at every other job I’ve had (so I don’t think it’s all me, many agree it’s a toxic environment likened to a high school), but quitting a job you’re great at, passionate about (at times), live super close to, that gives you insurance, during a pandemic? Harder than it looks.

Life sux. Super anxious for tomorrow. Thanks for reading. Pls don’t reblog.

#i should text my boss since i KNOW he's gonna wanna talk tomorrow and my anxious ass will forget half of what i want to say #but thats also nerve wracking i guess #personal

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gaiatheorist · 4 years ago

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Atypical/Elliptical.

There was a tweet highlighted yesterday by one of the Neuro-Divergent accounts I follow, building pace on the back of a compare/contrast photo of an autistic female, and an autistic male. If you haven’t seen it, you can guess how it went, she’s all cute and ‘sailor suit’, he’s in a cluttered room, overweight, in food-stained clothing. Lazy stereotyping at best, offensive and dangerous in reality. The dangerous tweet I reported was one from a contentious incel, stating that females don’t have autism, further down the page of “Would you like to report any other tweets?”, we have that other old favourite “Autism isn’t real.” Yes, I’m shaking my head.

I’m not going to go into in-depth analysis of incel beliefs and values, I’ll just hover over the suggestion that this particular variant was whipping up his followers that ‘Women don’t have autism’, based on his interpretation that the female whose picture he was using was conventionally attractive, and neatly presented. If you tell someone the sun’s 93 million miles away, they accept it, but if they see a sign saying ‘wet paint’, they feel compelled to put their finger in it to check, then complain that they have paint on them. (I know, I don’t touch wet paint, I lick it, it keeps life interesting.) ‘Everybody knows’ that a common feature with autism is the special interest, that we will fixate obsessively on a certain topic, or subject, and woe betide any mere mortal who can’t escape before we get into full flow, what with us not always picking up on non-verbal cues, like snoring. It’s entirely possible that the ‘girl’ had a special interest of dressing and presenting herself in a certain way, even ‘normal’ people do that, hanging their entire identity on presenting a certain way, designer clothes, certain styles of dress, Angry Bird eyebrows. Step back, and absorb that, the girl wasn’t ‘properly’ autistic because she didn’t have food in her hair, wasn’t wearing a Star Trek uniform, looked ‘normal’. Specifically, she looked the kind of ‘normal’ that incels have experience of being rejected by, because they expect to have nice-things handed to them on a plate, and then blame everyone else when they’re denied. There’s a certain example of a petulant, pouty individual, who sulks when they don’t get their own way floating to mind.

Using the newfangled terms neuro-divergent, and neuro-typical, and pausing just for a second to point out that no, we’re not ‘all a bit autistic’ any more than we’re a ‘bit vegetarian’ or a ‘bit left-handed’, neuro-typical people are assumed to be the norm, anything else is deviant. I’ll hold my hands up to that, I don’t iron my laundry, or peel my vegetables, you can stop clutching your pearls, I’m not going to steal them, what would I want pearls for? People with neurodevelopmental disorders are atypical, outsiders, outliers, ‘other’, and it’s more than a little annoying that ‘everyone knows’ that, specifically autistic people, have a tendency to see themselves as different from others. (You started it, telling us we were wrong and weird for our plethora of sensory aversions, and routines, just because they don’t make sense to you.) We’re atypical, whether that’s because we’re genuinely distressed if our ‘usual’ brand of socks, or cereal, or soap is discontinued, or because we won’t cross the road if the light isn’t green, even if there’s nothing coming. Other examples are available.

I’ve spent vast chunks of my life being bounced between “Why are you doing it like that?” and “HOW do you do that?”, I don’t have any savant-skills, but I’m on an elliptical axis, I do some things differently. (The axis isn’t just elliptical, it’s occasionally highly irregular, I have multiple other medical issues, autistics are often blessed like that, to the untrained eye, it might appear I’m neurotic, or hypochondriac, or do my shopping on NHS direct. I’m an unfortunate combination of chromosomes and chronology.) You neuro-typical types bimble along happily enough on your spherical orbits. Yes, you have spikes, too, I know, but it seems that they’re the exception rather than the rule, your orbits appear far more regular than mine. I’m deviating from all-autistics, to ‘me’, there are common factors, but we’re not a one-size-fits-all contingent, I don’t get upset if different types of food touch on my plate, but I can’t use oven-gloves, and I’ll go all day without a drink of water rather than share a drinking vessel, we’re all different.

I’m sometimes envious of the spherical orbit, the regularity of being able to remember to prepare and eat three meals a day, not being afraid of bridges, being able to choose a direction and travel in it without sensory overload, it might as well be necromancy or Olympic level athleticism, it just isn’t ‘there’ for me. When my orbit is within ‘yours’, I’m highly efficient, that’s the “HOW do you do that?” phase. I just do. There isn’t really much of an alternative, but it’s not very healthy, I have all of your weird scripts and rules tumbling around my head, like that stage where you’re learning a new language, everything has to be double-processed, and checked, it’s clunky, not fluent. I’m 43, and I still don’t dream in your language, I can concentrate for periods, but remembering all of the verb endings tends to kick the tenses out of the window, we’re no longer congruent, and I don’t make sense to you.

When I’m within your orbit, I take short-cuts, as verbose as I am here, I omit the unnecessary, because I don’t have the cognitive or physical energy for all of it. I’m a flat-pack item of furniture, I don’t need ‘all’ those screws and fixings to be functional, do I? I unintentionally infuriate and antagonise, because I don’t want to stop for a cup of tea, or chat about TV programmes, I want to complete the task set, before I run out of energy. (I know, but the externally imposed sanctions for non-completion generally have a ripple-out impact on others. My intense bursts of activity alienate other people, because they want to slow down, and chat, but that’s not the task in hand, and I know that my brain and body are temperamental, I *need* to finish within time, and properly, in case I’m less-functional the next day, I always stacked/banked work to make sure I was ahead of myself, to avoid letting other people down if I was ill.)

When our orbits converge, it’s phenomenal, on a ‘work’ level, a life-admin level, or, that holiest of Grail, an interpersonal level, those brief instances are stellar, apart from me freaking people out by my intensity sometimes, I’m an acquired taste. I’m really good at some things, a large proportion of which have yet to demonstrate a particularly useful potential, but there’s time yet. I’m steering very firmly away from the lazy stereotypes of ‘special talents’, I’m resilient and resourceful because I have to be, I often view things from an alternative perspective, and connect-the-dots that others don’t. I still can’t use oven-gloves.

When my orbit swings outside yours, it’s difficult, sometimes impossible for aims to be reconciled, That’s the kick in the teeth on a regular basis, last week, or last month, or yesterday, or earlier today, I might have been functional, or even brilliant, then, all at once, I’m not. “You were fine yesterday!”, yes, I know, I was there.

Chromosomal and chronological factors sometimes spin me out of orbit. I might have been able to walk to Tesco one day last week (Coincidentally, I wasn’t, but that’s not the point.), that doesn’t mean I can do it every day, it’s a cross-over complexity with my telephone directory of other ailments, as well as the autism. When I’m out of orbit, whether it’s sensory overload, burnout, or just my day-to-day ‘wrongness’, I process differently. A ‘normal’ action, like parking a car (I don’t know why I use driving analogies, I’ve never taken my test.) becomes a pantomime of a driving test, where the instructor speaks a foreign language, it’s an unfamiliar car, on unfamiliar roads, and the car’s on fire, and full of wasps, with an angry pig in the back seat. I don’t have muscle memory, or subconscious competence for a lot of functions people take for granted, not just oven gloves, sometimes events conspire to throw me out of spherical orbit, and everything becomes far more complicated than it needs to be. The elliptical orbit makes ‘just’ my ultimate four-letter word, and I know plenty of others. Some instances of being out-of-orbit are predictable, sensory overloads, other illnesses, compounded difficulties around other life-events, my toe having poked through my sock, and being strangled in my boot, it can feel like being an adult-sized toddler, and the temptation to throw down and scream on the supermarket floor because I’m tired is an unwelcome, but regular occurrence.

“Oh, we all get like that sometimes! Can’t you just...?” If I could have ‘just’, I would already have ‘just’, wouldn’t I? 43 years of having been chastised for being difficult, or ruining everyone else’s picnic feed very firmly into the ‘masking’ phenomenon. Charlatans and snake-oil sellers, and Gwyneth Paltrow, as well as even more insidious practitioners are always trying to promote some thing or another that will make us fitter, healthier, more productive, then, to continue the Radiohead theme, many medical types throw back “You do it to yourself.”.

Autism is a lifelong developmental disorder. I can’t consistently ‘try to be less like that’ any more than I can try to be less right-handed, or biologically female. (Yes, I *could* attempt to alter both of those, but to what end?) I’ve had a lot of medical interventions since the brain aneurysm ruptured, and 99% of them have tried to un-autistic me. That’s normal, because autism is abnormal. It’s also normal because autistic females broadly present differently to males. Broadly, I have observational experience from working in education, the ‘old’ perspective was that boys were more frequently autistic than girls, and, more-autistic. Slight tangent on the common misconception of the autistic spectrum, if I may? “We’re all a bit autistic, haha!”, no, no, we’re not, any more than we’re all a bit epileptic. The autistic spectrum isn’t a continuum-spectrum, from 0-100% autistic, while it is clear that some people are severely autistic, and others are not, it isn’t actually a point-scoring exercise, unless you’re UK benefits agencies.

Males and females are conditioned and socialised differently, after millennia of girls-do-this-boys-do-that, humanity is cautiously asking why. I’ll leave my wonky femininist soapbox under the desk, apart from the fact that females are ‘supposed to’ be quiet, and kind, and compliant, and all the gubbins that the incels say. I’m 43, I was raised pink-for-girls-blue-for-boys, there were a lot of things Girls Didn’t Do, it’s OK, I’ve done most of them now, don’t tell my Dad. Much like left-handed children in days gone by were forced to write with their right hand, there has been, and still is, to some extent, pressure on males and females to behave differently, as if keeping our reproductive paraphernalia in a more-or-difficult-to-kick location is an absolute-for-everything. I don’t think it is, but we’ve already established I’m atypical. Not all 40-something-year-old people, with, or without autism had the same childhood experiences I did. There’s no place for detail here, some of the embedded lessons weren’t kindly taught. That Pavlovian response system stuck, be quiet, be pleasant, be demure and train that flinch into a smile. (Various parties ought to apply for funding for having ‘tamed’ this particular shrew. I’m not tamed, I’m barely even domesticated, but I have a shed-load of coping mechanisms.)

Females shouldn’t feel the need to be less-than, to defer to males, but, in a disturbing number of arenas, that’s the norm. I spent the largest part of my life being afraid of men, because of what some men had done, and hating myself for holding a belief that was anathema to the absolute core of my being. (Chapter whatever, fundamentally knowing that males were not ‘better’ than females, but feeling obliged to concede, to avoid disturbing the peace.) The #MeToo disclosures and discourse picked that metaphorical scab, I’ll never go back to that half-life.

I’m atypical because, after decades of excruciating path-of-least-resistance masking, I’ve managed to mask proficiently to a point where I can ‘act normal’ for short stretches. I shouldn’t have to. I’m not suggesting I should be allowed to climb on top of the curtain poles, and throw things, but I don’t see why not-acting-feminine should be seen as disturbing or threatening. It hurts, not just the bras, and the stupid shoes, and the sitting-all-cramped-up, but the emotional and physical toll of carrying oneself ‘female’. When I had the full spectrum cognitive functioning assessment after the brain injuries had settled, the neuro-psych pointed out that a consideration was always ‘At what cost?’. The popular analogy for physical or cognitive energy is a ‘battery’ (A cell, doofus, a ‘battery’ is a number of cells together- behold, I’m reaching my cranky-pedantic cut-off stage.) In order to do anything at all, you need enough ‘charge’ to complete the task. Yes, given, BUT, with autistic masking, there isn’t just the ‘charge’ for the task, there’s the additional charge involved in keeping everything else running, without breaking down, or burning out, the energy overdraft. I’m virtually constantly in my ‘overdraft’, and it’s a bitch to pay back.

I’m elliptical because I frequently swing inside, or outside a typical orbit, I can be ‘miles ahead’ at some points, but ‘miles behind’, and struggling to keep up at others, it’s not a reliable pattern, I can’t predict all of it, and I am SICK of well-meaning “Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself!”. I’m rarely being ‘hard’, I’m usually being practical, if I do x and y on one day, I won’t be able to do z as well. (”Don’t call yourself disabled!” can be a blog for another day.)

This has been an attempt for me to shake myself out of a fog of not-writing. Autism is opaque and oblique, it can be brilliant at times, when things ‘click’, but it’s almost-always difficult to articulate in a way that’s palatable, let alone digestible, I know, it sticks in my own throat enough. The ‘experts’ trot out their theories, sometimes without consultation, and the organisations that set out to ‘cure’ us are pedaling the myth that autism is a disease. It’s not, it’s a divergence. Take this as ‘A Portrait of This Autist’, I can’t speak for anyone else, but I do think it’s important to speak.

#Autism

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thedyingmoon · 5 years ago

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💚 See Me Now 💚

***

VI. Pursuers

***

Hange and Jean were both looking at (F/N) as she wiped her face with a clean towel.

Hange ordered (F/N), ordered, to tell them what really happened inside Levi's office. With tears in her eyes, she recalled how Levi ordered her to go to his office that morning to do some paperwork. She told them how he was not satisfied with her job and the beverages she made for him that finally urged him to do that terrible thing to her.

The girl buried her face on the towel, unable to control her sobbing. Jean suddenly felt rage within his being that surprisingly shook him to his core.

"So, that's why you kept on making those beverages." Jean said. (F/N) just nodded. "But, come on! They're not bad!"

"How did you know about that?" the astute scientist asked Jean.

The boy suddenly went red in the cheeks, looked away, and began scratching the back of his head.

"Well, err, I sampled the chocolate and the c-coffee she made. They're all good." Jean stuttered. He snapped his eyes back at Hange, infuriated at such awful treatment the short Captain has shown the girl. "You don't spill a drink on anyone because of that, right? In fact, you don't spill your drink on anyone, period!"

"Okay, calm down, Kirschtein." Hange thought for a while and touched the girl's shoulders gently. "You said that he made you fill out his documents?"

The girl just nodded. Hange took her hands off the girl and went outside the kitchen.

"Section Commander, wait!" Jean said. "Where are you going?"

"Wait for me, you two." she called and finally turned round a corner. Jean was about to place his arm round (F/N)'s shoulders when they heard Hange say, "And, don't do anything reckless, got that?"

Jean clicked his tongue in annoyance at the lady.

A few minutes later, she was back, carrying with her some documents that Levi left in his office when he went out. Jean immediately saw the papers and went closer to Hange to see (F/N)'s written work.

Jean,... was stunned. He looked back at (F/N), whose face was still buried on the towel. "(F/N), you did this?"

Once again, the girl just nodded.

Hange cleared her throat. "I want to ask a question, (F/N)." she said. The poor girl looked up at her superior with her eyes that were red from crying too much. "Is this the first time you filled out documents of importance such as this?"

(F/N) shrugged. "No, Squad Leader."

"When was the first time? And who taught you?"

"Commander Shadis taught me how to do it. I used to help him with his paperwork."

"Shadis did?" Jean uttered. "You mean THE ex - Scouting Legion Commander and Trainee Squad Head Keith Shadis?"

The girl nodded.

"Oh, I see." Hange said. She sat with (F/N) and showed her the documents. "You know, other Cadets could never produce an excellent work such as this. Well, not without years of training. When did Shadis teach you how to do this?"

"Just a few months before graduation. About two."

Hange absorbed the information like a sponge and pondered for a while.

Everybody is aware of (F/N)'s ability in battle and lack, thereof. But, to think that Keith Shadis would teach her such things that no other Cadet should know about, since their future line of work would simply revolve around guarding the walls or slaying the Titans,...

Not unless he wanted her to join the Military Police Brigade, which was hopelessly impossible given her lack of good grades when she was still a Trainee.

Or, maybe - ?

"Why would Captain Levi reject her work if it's that good?" Jean impatiently asked while looking at the numerous digits that (F/N) filled out in the papers that make no sense to him.

"You know how Shorty is with paperwork. That midget's a freaking perfectionist."

"Hahaha, and to hear that insult coming from you, Section Commander,..." Jean laughed.

"So!" Hange said. She tapped (F/N)'s shoulders, took the soaked towel from her, and handed her her very own coin purse. "You, my little Cadette, should go wash yourself, dress nicely, and buy whatever you want at the market. You should go take the rest of the day off. In fact, I insist."

(F/N) just stared at her in disbelief, the pink coin purse still in her hand.

"What are you standing there for? Go!"

"Yes, ma'am!" (F/N) saluted and went out of the kitchen.

Jean collapsed on a nearby chair and plopped his feet on the table. He continued studying the documents. "No matter how many times I read this, it just doesn't make any sense!"

Hange fetch herself a glass of water and took a seat across Jean. "It will make sense, Kirschtein."

"How so?"

"If you are a higher - ranking officer, that is. Or better yet, a Commander,..."

******

Three hours later, (F/N) was strolling around the Trost District market.

She just bathed and she wore the shirt that Nifa lent her. She still couldn't believe that the Section Commander, her Squad Leader, was letting her spend her own money. She felt really guilty.

So, she brought her own purse, which contained a decent amount of coins, and decided to bring back some souvenirs for her friends.

Of course, what happened inside Levi's office was still fresh from her mind.

As much as she wanted to believe that Levi was just punishing her for wearing Petra's dress, she could clearly feel that his treatment towards her has turned even more awful. It's as if he had some kind of grudge against her.

Her eyebrows furrowed. She finally decided that Levi just couldn't let anyone take Petra's place in his life. No one could, after all. She was the greatest person she knew. No one could be like her friend, Petra.

"Flowers for the beautiful, young lady." a shriveled voice said. She turned to her left and saw a kind elderly lady wearing what looked like patched rags. She was holding a basket filled with white roses and she was offering one to her.

Her heart instantly melted at the sight and she quickly rummaged through her purse to get money.

"No, dear child." the old woman said.

"Sorry?"

"This rose is for you. I give this as a present for the beautiful, young lady."

The old woman was still offering her the rose. She felt guilty for refusing her, so she just took it from her hand.

"T-thank you so much."

She sniffed the rose. It smelled heavenly.

"I'm glad the beautiful, young lady likes it." the old woman said and went back to her place in those filthy rags on the ground near the fruit stand.

She smiled, waved at the old woman, and went on walking.

Just as she was about to look at a nearby stall where cheap jewelry was sold, she heard everyone around her muttering excitedly at the same time. Two country girls who were buying trinkets from the same stall were whispering to each other quite scandalously.

"They said he was never in a relationship." the blonde one said.

"Who knows? He is Humanity's Strongest Soldier! Any girl would be willing to spend just a single night with him!" the brunette said. "I want to spend a night with him!"

"You are quite the naughty one!" the blonde girl pinched her friend's arm playfully.

(F/N) turned towards the crowd, which were huddled in the middle of the square, watching someone riding a horse, whose mane was as dark as the evening sky. It's Shadow, the Stubborn Stallion. Which means,...

"Captain Levi!" shrieked a young lady from the crowd. "Notice me! NOTICE ME!"

"Oi, watch it!" an old man said beside her. He was trying his best to dodge her flailing arms.

Levi wasn't amused. In fact, he hated it when people show their adoration towards him. It's just ridiculous.

He was about to proceed to the gates leading to the next district when he felt someone staring rather intently at him. He turned, his sharp eyes searching for the source of the unexplained force, and found no one there. He clicked his tongue and commanded Shadow to keep going.

(F/N) barely made it in time as she quickly hid behind a stall to not be seen by the Captain. Here, of all places? Why?

She slightly turned to look at Levi when she noticed that he had dismounted his horse beside a stall six blocks away from where she was hidden. It was a good thing he didn't see her staring at him.

She cautiously came out of her hiding place, the single stem of white rose still on her hand. She watched as Levi went to a food stall to get himself something to eat. Then, she felt really bad. He must really be starving and thirsty right now. She saw him order a piece of bread from a grumpy old man who owned the food stall and waited for him as he toasted it.

She still couldn't stop herself from looking at him. She knew he did terrible things to her, but it still didn't stop the butterflies from fluttering inside her stomach, giving her an indescribable rush of emotions. She smiled, observing Levi's muscular back clad in black jacket.

All of a sudden, the same old woman who offered her the rose tugged at his shirt. He turned irritably around and faced her.

"Rose for the handsome, young man." the old woman said. Oh, how sweet of her,...

Levi tch!ed and shoved money in the poor woman's basket.

"That was meant as a gift!" the old woman's voice suddenly changed.

Even before (F/N), or Levi himself, realized it, the old woman grabbed his arm forcefully, took out a syringe that was concealed with flowers inside her basket, removed it's cover with her foul, yellow teeth, and injected his arm with the suspicious black liquid inside it. Levi growled with the sudden pain and pushed the old woman away. The needle was still injected onto his arm. He took it out and winced with pain.

The old woman suddenly laughed, her old shriveled voice sending chills down (F/N)'s spine. What's more, nobody seems to mind what was happening to them.

"Ackerman must die." the old woman said. She pointed a bony finger at him and continued shouting, the pitch of her voice gradually becoming an octave higher. "Ackerman must die! Ackerman must die! Ackerman must die! ACKERMAN MUST DIE!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Levi screamed and suddenly collapsed on the ground. (F/N) quickly made her way towards the Captain. She grabbed a basket from a nearby fruit stall and threw it at the crazy old lady.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" (F/N) shrieked.

The old lady just smiled at her. "The beautiful, young lady is not Ackerman. So why bother? ACKERMAN WILL NOW DIE!"

"SHUT UP!"

All of a sudden, (F/N) realized that a few, hooded men had emerged from the darkest corners of the marketplace, making their way towards them. She looked closely and shuddered; they were all bearing guns.

No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No! No!

"Captain Levi, we must go!" (F/N) said while helping Levi stand. He has become groggy and unresponsive. But, the instant he noticed her, he tried to wriggle free from her grasp. Like a weak child trying to get away from an angry parent.

"L-let me go, you - "

Before Levi could say anything bad to her, he vomited, the thick greenish liquid spilling down his pale mouth.

The Captain would not let her help him. And now, the pursuers were getting closer and closer to the two of them.

"HELP US, PLEASE!" she shouted, but the people just went on with their tasks, like they do not even exist. Now, where did their adoration to the Humanity's Strongest go? (F/N) noticed the girl who was begging to be noticed by Levi earlier. She just went on picking flowers from a nearby stall.

It's no use, the pursuers will definitely kill them.

A hooded man, who seemed to be the leader, took a gun from his pocket and pointed it at Levi.

"No hard feelings, mate." he said with a raspy voice that (F/N) distinctly recognized. "This is just an order, nothing personal." He was definitely going to pull the trigger.

(F/N) cowered and hugged Levi, who was now unconscious on the ground, concealing him from the man, praying for a miracle. She closed her eyes,...

She suddenly heard an explosion. A gunfire.

But, we're still alive!

She opened her eyes and found a great white stallion before them. It was a truly magnificent sight! And the gunshot seemed to come from the tall, muscular man atop the horse. He was clad in flowing, green cape with the crest of the Wings of Freedom at the back.

The man,... was none other than Erwin Smith, himself.

The pursuers panicked at the sight. Ten more men in Scouting Legion uniform surrounded (F/N) and Levi, protecting them from the bad guys. They were all pointing their shotguns at the hooded men. Erwin looked at (F/N).

"(L/N), are you hurt?" the Commander asked her.

Her eyes were wide with admiration to the blonde Commander. "No, sir. But, Levi - Captain Levi is!"

"I see." Erwin brought his fingers to his mouth and whistled loudly. A few moments later, Shadow came in barging at the scene. The black horse stopped before them, stomping his hooves impatiently on the ground upon seeing his owner's limp body. Erwin unmounted and carried Levi effortlessly off the ground in firefighter style. He placed the unconscious Captain atop Shadow and looked at (F/N). "You must help me. Get on Shadow."

(F/N) looked at the black stallion, who seemed to consider her with much hate, just like his owner. But, she brushed all uncertainties aside and quickly hopped on the complaining horse. Erwin began skillfully coaxing it to relax. Now, she was positioned just behind the Captain. Her heart leaped at the close contact with the man she adored despite the dangerous situation they were in.

Erwin went back to his horse and gestured for his men to retreat. And despite all of the ruckus, the people remained uncaring and unaffected. The observant Commander noticed the look on (F/N)'s face and told her, "It's no use. More men are pointing guns at them, they couldn't do anything but watch."

(F/N) gulped audibly in nervousness. What situation did she land herself into?

"Fall back!" Erwin ordered and the men started riding back to the Scouting Legion Headquarters.

(F/N) took Shadow's reins and did her best in making Levi's horse move. "Let's go, Shadow,..."

They rode fast without a single glance behind them. They arrived at the Headquarters just before twilight.

It has begun, thought Erwin grimly as Hange met them at the gates.

***

Knock, knock, @yepps , @levi4mikasa , @clovemcpandas , @unhappysap , and @shewolfofficial . 💚

***

💚💚💚

***

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman #captain levi #see me now #levi x reader #levi x you #snk jean #snk hange #snk petra #snk nifa #snk erwin #chapter 6 #pursuers

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seenashwrite · 5 years ago

Text

Notes From Nash: Season 15, Episode 3

It's ep three, and was third try the charm? Well, we're still in that little town, which is infuriating. But don't lose hope, chickadees. There was some character arc action and some plot advancing, and just drama in general, and it moved at a decently quick clip, all of which is refreshing after last week's ass-disaster of an episode.

If I were grading this ep, all things considered (including some damn fine acting moments that elevated the material), it's an A-. (Five points were docked immediately because we were still in the little town.) But seriously, this week's writer(s) had a LOT to make up for given the aforementioned last week as well as a largely lackluster premiere, so you know what? Props to them.

We got a loose end from season past tied up, got rid of some dead weight, and then there was a thing that happened that I’m not entirely sure was necessary at this interval, but I get why it happened. Of course, we had our requisite random hamfisted “solution(s)” and still-unexplained bits that should’ve been clarified ages ago, can’t not have those, it seems. Regardless, this episode was actually fairly interesting to watch. I’m still wary about the state of the season after the first two, but this one had some spark.

Spoilers below the cut, you know the drill.

This one's in order, I was jotting stuff down as I watched. Past ep breakdowns linked at the bottom. If you’re new, hello, welcome, etc., I don’t do meta shit or reading into the symbolism of the color of a blurry wallpaper just over someone’s shoulder, I look at writing and cohesiveness and structure and flow and all that jazz. I basically just call things as I see ‘em.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

More spooky-scary still seems to be pouring from the hellpit, but at least this crypt is pretty, and Harry Potter tent-esque because the square feet inside is seemingly bigger than the outside.

Rowena appears to be outfitted in one of my grandmother's housedresses, or a coffin lining, or a 1980s prom dress, whichever you prefer, and none of them have been pressed. I'm trying to say I don't like it. They also continue to do Ruthie's makeup in such a manner that she perpetually looks approximately fifteen years older than she actually is, so in a way I'm thankful this is likely her last episode. On the other hand, I trust these writers and the people who assemble/green light the promos about as far as I can throw them, so we shall see. In any event, Ruthie is quite the good actor and I hope she gets a million gigs after all this is done.

This Sam-Dean moment with Creased Brow Sam and Gruff Voice Dean is falling so flat, not because of them, but because we're hearing The Same Damn Thing We've Already Heard. Move the plot along, please----- Oh wait here comes Belphagor once again with a solution, this time a nice little plot rescue MacGuffin! Lilith's Crook. Just gotta blow it like a horn.

Motherbitch, this is stupid.

I got a thought: make it Gabriel's horn, so it calls in all the angels who should've come back with the reverse-y switch-a-roo, and they deal with sealing the hole, but bonus! At end of ep last scene is that it's also called Gabriel back, too. I'd announce to the universe that this show needs to hire me, but, welp.

Oh look, Ketch is in a hospital gown. Oh look, I bet Ketch is about to die in that hospital gown, instead of a badass suit like it should be. It looked like DHJ accidentally spoiled via a tweet that I happened to see-----

I dodge the promo images and articles and such so I can give a view of someone who doesn't know what is coming in these things.

-----because he talked about coming back just to leave again, that it was a pleasure, whatever, and y'all will have to fill me in on that because I kinda can't believe he whiffed that hard. I'm not looking it up, is my point. Did he whiff? Actually, don't answer that, I don't care. I mean, don’t go to trouble looking into it on my account.

Hmmm. Was Ketch’s death entirely necessary? At least, right now? I dunno. Maybe. I’m 50/50 whether this, or have him be double-crossy then get killed later. In any event, well-acted by DHJ. He's quite fantastic. He is wasted in all the Hallmark dreck he's been in, I really hope he gets some good work after this. That's that. Moving on.

We're 1/4 in, and I'll give it this: we've gotten some action, some drama, but they've GOT to make up for the lack of plot progression in episode 2. Belphagor is shady as shit, which we knew, and this just got reinforced by that demon who has such a hard-on for Belphagor getting axed.

I do not mind rando badass lady hunter having lines and playing a tangentially-important role in the ep, but this means if we ever see her again, she'll likely get killed, so I'm not getting attached.

So hell is an angry vagina. SFX, are y'all okay? Is that prick whose tweets occasionally come across my feed still working there? Y'all need some hugs? I know y'all need some better budget, that all the DC shows got it, but oh well, that ship's sailed.

Well done set dec, I dig the ghoulish statues in that hallway. And hey costume design, I like the ring that dude was wearing, I would wear that in real life. It would also look great as a wrist cuff. I digress.

We know this demon is not going to succeed in killing Belphagor, so once more we have a pointless halftime cliffhanger. Also, have I mentioned I'm done with Cas being a weak puss? I'm telling you, if stuff got rewound, he should be incrementally getting his mojo back, that tracks logically. See Ep. 1 notes for what I thought should've happened for a legit "Whoa" moment.

"Do you have any idea what he is?" --- he's a poop demon. Again, see the first episode of @youtotallymadethatup /shameless plug

[sighs]

Is this show gonna end with a Jack vs. Jack battle royale? Because fuck that noise. But! Writing-wise, it's okay that ol’ Belph may become the big bad. Nash, why would you say that, you ask. Easy.

IT WILL GET US THE FUCK OUT OF THIS LITTLE TOWN

A. Ny. Thing. to get us the fuck out of this little town. I am so goddamned bored.

Cas, this is a mistake. You should leave. What are you doing. Leave. Don't fall for that. Leave. Go now. Whoosh. Okay, or glow worm and barbeque the body. That was a nice little catch of emotion by Misha at the end. Except are the demons now gonna jump into his body? Better not, we've seen that season.

Commercials! Cannot believe I've not been inundated with the adverts for the convention here in the spring, that's usually the jam. Imma go get some frozen yogurt. Highly rec strawberry with a little warmed-up Nutella. Try it, then tell me I'm crazy. I'm not. It's heavenly.

Aaaaand, we're back!

Don't look so distressed Cas, y’all were gonna burn it anyway. But this takes Jack v. Jack off the table. Hopefully this means we'll be headed back to the Empty to get some progress on that hanging thread from last season sooner rather than later. Still, I'm glad we are down a character for awhile, this character in particular was starting to work my nerves and honestly, is just dead weight. I want it back to Sam and Dean for the most part this final season with sprinklings of Cas. Everyone else is secondary.

[claps] Very excellent Ruthie and Jared. One critique: Wish there could've been some sort of line from Rowena, re: "And perhaps I'll get to see my boy again", something of that ilk.

But I want to say this, and say it emphatically:

The nonsensical spells pulled from asses must stop

The soul-catcher thing is an example of a great move because it drew upon the past, then built upon for the present. This heart and angel blood and salt shit, and then this “Oh by the way it needs my dying breath” stuff is just obvious “um um um well how about bleh” writing stumbles, and it shows. The only reason that lameness worked? Ruthie and Jared’s performances. Period. Because y’all gave them absolute garbage to work with, and they made it shine.

Hey! There's the two convention promos with one short local ad in between, followed by the same local ad again! I was beginning to think they'd forgotten!

WE ARE OUT OF THE LITTLE TOWN, I REPEAT, WE ARE OUT OF THE LITTLE TOWN

DEAN IS IN A HENLEY, I REPEAT, DEAN IS IN A HENLEY

Oof, Dean. I mean, I figured this convo would have to happen one day, it's been building, because even though his intentions are good, Cas has been involved in his fair share of shit taking left turns. Hopefully Cas is going to go seek out other angels. Also, re: Cas saying he's getting weaker - because, why? WHY. This has never been addressed in a definitive, satisfactory manner.

Right, so, like we do each time, let's check in to see if we've had any character development and/or plot progression:

Do Ketch and Rowena and Belphagor count, since they've progressed to being dead? Dunno, that's more of a finality to their overall arcs. Dean's being an asshole and Sam's being weepy and Cas is being an Eeyore, that's about par. Meh. Okay. So did the plot get advanced?

YES THANK YOU FLYING SPAGHETTI MONSTER SWEET LORD YES. But, eh... a little weaksauce. Yes, that chapter of the initial onslaught is closed, yet we know it's not over. So I feel like the ep should've ended with, after the bunker door slams, a cut to a little scene that serves as a clue about what lies ahead. I mean, ahead-ahead, season-wise. Like, twenty second blip, not even, then hard cut to black screen, then on to promo which appears to be MotW.

So that's it, really. More adept writers could've made the material of #1 and #2 into the premiere (minus several things, most specifically minus Kevin, should've saved Osric for something else down the line), then this should've been episode #2 instead of #3. Can't unring that bell, though. Let's hope we hit some speed before Buckleming comes along to run us into a ditch, then (fingers crossed) we have a few eps after that to rebound for the finale.

See you next week.

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Past posts, from newest to oldest (and I sometimes do addendums if a response warrants)

Episode 2

Episode 1

#SPN Spoilers #15.03 #15x3 #SPN Season 15 #SPN S15 #SPN XV #Nash Notes #Nash Recaps #sort-of #Queueby Dooby Doo #Dad's on a blog post and #he hasn't been queued in a few days

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ladylynse · 5 years ago

Note

Oooh, please do post whatever you had for your "Wrong Number" sequel! It's been like, nearly a decade?! So that'll be real cool to see! (Also, love love love the ficlets! Thank you!)

...Wow, it has been nearly a decade. I wrote the first bit in 2010. This part.... I never got Eleven’s voice in my head, not like Ten, and that’s one of the reasons this didn’t go anywhere.

For those who aren’t familiar with Wrong Number, here’s the summary: The Doctor receives a phone call, and it doesn't take him long to realize that it's the wrong number. But now, of course, the Doctor's curiosity is aroused, and he just has to investigate. (As you can imagine, he finds more than he bargained for.)

These are the ficlets Anon initially requested; I’m glad you liked them! Really, it’s such a treat to know someone’s still interested in some of my old fics; I’ve only posted some of my DW fic ideas on here (I mean, I’ve got more following Bleeding/Loose Ends, and Cracking, and....)because most people aren’t, and it’s been ages since I’ve gotten a review on any of those stories.

-|-

He was running from his death again. Sort of. Avoiding it for as long as possible, at least, and hopefully, if possible, finding a way to cheat it without having to actually die, since this death that was approaching seemed a bit more dire than the last one. Last time, he’d at least had the comfort that regeneration was, in all probability, quite likely. Now, well…. From what he could tell, this seemed to be a bit more…permanent.

The Doctor twisted a few knobs, and the screen, which had been showing the depressing details of his approaching death at Lake Silencio, took on the more cheerful display of coordinates. He hadn’t been to Walkerville for years, and he had an old acquaintance there he hadn’t met yet to check up on.

He’d found the pair of plastic, question mark earrings in one of the shops while he’d been tracking the Cybermat. It hadn’t taken much to cobble together a temporal adapter compatible with a mesmoglobber to complete the gift, especially when he knew exactly what it would be used for, how it was going to be used, and who was going to use it.

The question was, how to give it? He’d never gotten any answers when he’d asked about that.

Well, truth be told, he hadn’t gotten many answers to begin with, but certainly nothing about his future. At least Valerie Frizzle’s answers hadn’t been the same as River Song’s infuriating response to everything. He liked spoilers. Well, sometimes. Well, not really, because he liked surprises, but only the good surprises.

Him discovering his impending death had not been one of the good surprises, but he maintained that it was a necessary one. He wouldn’t have been able to hope to avoid it if he hadn’t known it was coming, right? So, very soon, he would have that brilliant stroke that would tell him how he could avoid it all….

The Doctor shook his head. Less moping, more action. Not that he’d been moping. Just…thinking. Yes. That’s it. Thinking. It was always better to think than to not-think. Not-thinking spawned trouble.

Then you never think before you do anything, do you?

Amy Pond’s voice was clear in his head, and the Doctor sighed. He hated picking up consciences like that. He had enough of his own without imagining the responses of any of his past companions. And, well, Amy and Rory were really recent past companions, and they probably wouldn’t be past companions if he’d given them a real say, but he wasn’t about to drag them into everything. He needed to plan. He needed to think. He didn’t need to go about rescuing people who got into trouble, and that invariably happened to his companions, though of course they always blamed it on him.

The Doctor finished fiddling with the console and set the TARDIS on her way. He couldn’t say he didn’t need the distraction. Valerie Frizzle had certainly provided enough of one last time, so much so that he’d nearly—well, all right, he had, but only initially—missed seeing what he’d gone to see. And, besides, he’d known he’d be making this visit once he’d found those earrings. It was beyond time now that he went to make an old friend. Well, new friend, from her perspective.

The TARDIS shuddered to a stop and the Doctor spun around and headed out the doors, the gifts already safely stashed in his pockets. He wasn’t entirely sure where the TARDIS had dropped him off, but he’d spent enough time wandering around Walkerville the first night he’d been here, and he didn’t expect that it had changed—well, would change—terribly. And, anyway, even if it had, he had an excellent sense of direction.

Of course, that being said, he still hadn’t quite expected to open the TARDIS doors and step out into an unfamiliar workshop.

Unfamiliar, the Doctor noted as the TARDIS doors shut tightly behind him, but not necessarily unheard of. Well, he didn’t have much to go on, admittedly. But it was a unique workshop, and he was awfully good at spotting those. Full of all odds and ends, yes, bits and bobs from this and that, some things partially disassembled and others clearly cobbled together from a variety of sources. Ingenious, really, some of the things he could see. A plonthoister in one corner, if he wasn’t mistaken, and something that looked very much like the beginnings of a mesmoglobber not ten feet in front of him. Bit similar to chameleon circuits, actually, those mesmoglobbers, but much more crude and primitive.

Even if they did tend to malfunction considerably less often.

But that was probably just his luck. If it wasn’t, he’d actually have a functioning chameleon circuit to show for all the times he’d tried to get it fixed. Still. He wouldn’t change her now, and, admittedly, she didn’t even look too out-of-place here. Not as at home as in a 1960s English scrapyard, admittedly, but not as conspicuous as she normally was, or would be, if it weren’t for the fully-functioning perception filter.

At least some things were easy enough to fix.

Of course, according to Donna, the chameleon circuit— But he didn’t want to think about that. Not her. Not now. Lifetime ago or not, it still hurt. She’d been brilliant, Donna had. Just as brilliant as the two people he’d left behind.

“Oh, hello there!” a cheery voice called out. “Didn’t see you come in. You need something fixed?”

The Doctor’s eyes flicked over to the man in question and he smiled. “Let me guess, Mr. R. U. Humerus?”

The man grinned back at him and offered a hand. “Heard of me, have you? Yes, Radius Ulna Humerus at your service. RU for short, if you please.”

The Doctor gave the hand a vigorous shaking. “Good to meet you, RU. I’m the Doctor. Some people call me John Smith or a variety of others names, some of which are quite inventive and only half of which are even appropriate; the others are hardly fitting, though I suppose it depends on the time, and the situation, and, well, yes, you don’t want to hear all that, do you?” He paused, then said, “I don’t have anything for you to fix, exactly. I was just wondering if you’ve done any work for a Ms. Valerie Frizzle?”

RU chuckled. “Heard of her, too, eh? Don’t let the stories fool you. She’s much more eccentric than they say.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” the Doctor agreed.

“There’s even talk of them producing a show,” RU added. “For kids, you know. Educational. More fuel for the fire, if you ask me, but it was Val’s idea, and I trust her judgement. You get to meet all kinds of people in my line of work, but there are few people I’ve enjoyed meeting more than Valerie.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “I’m getting the feeling that you know her a bit better than other people around here.”

RU shrugged. “Taught her a few things. This’n’that.”

The Doctor glanced around the shop again, noting things he wouldn’t normally expect to find in an ordinary mechanic’s shop. Besides things like shrink-o-scopes and the like, that is. Considering the time period and the size of the nearby towns, he rather thought that there was a disproportional number of robots. All fully functioning, of course, and everything coming together quite nicely, all things considered. It all ran like a well-oiled machine, as they say.

But considering the robots—made of simple parts or not, it was all working together much better than it should have been—and the contents of the workshop that so few people would recognize…. “You’re…more than just a mechanic, aren’t you?” the Doctor said, glancing back at RU. “This all seems a bit…out of the ordinary.” And, coming from him, that really was saying something.

“I’m as much an ordinary mechanic as you are someone who just walked in off the street,” RU returned. “I don’t get a lot of surprise visitors here, you see. I usually see ‘em coming at least a mile off, and there aren’t too many people willing to cross the trench on their own, so I’m guessing you didn’t. Look a bit clean for that anyhow.”

Ah. Right. “I just dropped in,” the Doctor said. “I don’t mean any harm, really.”

RU snorted. “Maybe not, but I prefer not to have people snooping around my shop.”

Time for partial confessions, then, before he found himself making explanations to the friendly local police officers. If there was a trench around this place as RU implied, he’d have a bit of trouble legging it. Well, there was always the TARDIS, but if she was in one of her moods, she might not let him in.

Again.

“I wasn’t snooping,” the Doctor said. “Not really. I just—”

“You one of those people scouting locations for the show?” RU asked sceptically. “Val’s not going to be dragging her class out here without a good reason, you know.”

“Like the mesmoglobber going on the fritz?” the Doctor asked casually. He’d never liked housework, exactly, but when he’d found himself sorting through scripts and other things with show’s producer—well, one of them, anyway—he’d glanced at a few of them. After Ms. Frizzle had mentioned RU as a good mechanic, seeing the script with him listed as part of the cast had caught his eye, so he’d flipped through it.

It would turn out to be a good story, whenever they got around to producing it.

RU narrowed his eyes. “She’s got another two years on the warranty if it does,” he admitted. “But where’d you hear about that thing, if I may ask?”

“Oh, you know. Here and there. Same place I heard about the other things, too.” The Doctor smiled. “But you, you’ve got a fantastic setup here. One of a kind, isn’t it? Satisfaction guaranteed, service with a scowl and everything?”

“What’re you here for?” RU asked.

“Here in particular? Nothing, really. I’m just on my way to see Ms. Frizzle. I’ve got a gift for her, actually. Though, now that you mention it, you might be able to confirm something for me.” He rummaged in his pocket for a moment and pulled out the temporal adapter. When RU’s face showed no sign of surprise, no fleeting wonder as to how something so large had fit in something so small, any doubt the Doctor had had as to the man’s experience with things so many adults ignored left him immediately. “This look compatible with the model of mesmoglobber Ms. Frizzle has? I never did get a good look at it myself, and I heard you’re her mechanic.”

RU’s eyebrows shot into his hair as he took the temporal adapter from the Doctor and examined it. “Where’d you get this?” he wondered.

“Made it,” the Doctor said simply, grinning again. He didn’t need verbal praise, though he’d never turn it down when it was offered to him. It was enough to see the admiration on RU’s face. Not that there was any question as to his competence in putting something like that together, of course. Quite complex, all things considered, though it looked deceptively simple.

“Made it?” RU looked back at the Doctor. “Who’d you say you were again?”

“The Doctor, among other things,” the Doctor said.

RU looked him over again, more critically this time, and then went back to examining the temporal adapter. “Does this do what I think it does?”

“Most likely,” the Doctor replied.

“It ought to work, then,” RU said, handing it back. “Shouldn’t be too hard to hook up. Valerie could probably manage it unless she’s forgotten everything I taught her about busonomics.”

“Did she get the bus from you, then?” the Doctor asked as he pocketed the temporal adapter. Ms. Frizzle never had told him last time, after all, despite his repeated asking, and he did want to know. It was a matter of curiosity more than anything else, really. He highly doubted there was a rather large stock of magic school buses, after all.

Not that he expected them all to be school buses if they came equipped with mesmoglobbers, but that was beside the point.

RU chuckled. “She got a few parts from me,” he said. “We even worked on some bus moulds once, but she didn’t get the bus from me, no. Just how many stories have you heard about her?”

“A few,” the Doctor said. And, in answer to RU’s unspoken question, he added, “But not much else about you, really. Nothing more than I’ve already said.”

RU didn’t seem inclined to challenge that. Instead, he just nodded. “Right. Well, if you’re looking for Val, she’ll be along soon. She’s due to drop by to pick up a few spare parts.”

The Doctor, remembering the plonthoister he’d spotted earlier, couldn’t suppress his smile. A magical mechanic for a magic school bus. Well, he really shouldn’t have expected any less. Of course, if he recalled correctly, even RU must have had trouble getting Ms. Frizzle the proper parts—or would, at one point in the future—but since she’d sung his praises the last time he’d met her, he rather suspected that that was an isolated incident.

Or perhaps RU had been out of town. It wouldn’t be very easy to find a mechanic to replace him, even for a short time. Still, there’d never been any mention in the script, so he didn’t know for sure. Not that it had been explicitly about mechanics and broken buses, anyway, the one he was thinking of. It had been all about the chemistry of baking.

It was a bit of a pointed reminder, to be perfectly honest, that he’d landed, once again, in a time before the story had been written. And indeed, in this case, before the show had been produced. Perhaps even before the books had been written, let alone any scripts. Either way, he had to be careful not to let slip too many spoilers. Never good, that. But he rarely had a problem with that sort of thing. Well, with the important stuff, anyway. But Ms. Frizzle seemed to have an awfully good memory….

At least he knew she could keep a secret—or at any rate tell it in such a way that it was disguised as harmless fiction. Unfortunate, in some ways, but really quite necessary. He still didn’t regret telling the children she’d been teaching his secret. Well, secret when it came to dealing with humans who made assumptions, which was the vast majority of them. But still. Wasn’t like he flaunted being an alien, and it was much simpler to get people to do what he wanted when he didn’t have to explain to them that, young as he looked, he was over nine hundred and they ought to listen to him for once. With most of them, it worked better just to step up and take charge. Humans could be quite good at playing follow-the-leader, for better or for worse.

“Well, I suppose I can stick around until she shows up,” the Doctor said. “I can help you, if you like. What are you working on?”

“Nothing I need another pair of hands for,” RU said. “You’ll be of more use in the tower as a lookout. You can help Val across when she comes. Just pull the red lever and it’ll set everything in motion. Don’t touch anything else.”

The Doctor blinked at the tone. “Are you implying I’d wreck something?” he asked, affronted.

RU shrugged. “You look like someone who fiddles with stuff. Doesn’t matter if you think you can fix something you wreck if you don’t touch anything in the first place.”

“I really look like I break everything I touch?”

“You look like you have more experience cobbling things together than I do,” RU answered, “and I can’t watch you every moment and have everything ready for Valerie by the time she gets here. Off you go. Stairs are on the left.”

The Doctor frowned but didn’t argue, instead going off in the appropriate direction and finding the stairs hiding behind some more machines. He wasn’t entirely happy with RU’s assumptions, but he couldn’t exactly argue with them. Well, he could, but it was only on a technical point, and he’d learned very early on in his travels that humans preferred to ignore him and assume that they were right rather than acknowledge and accept any technical points he brought up.

Besides, it probably wouldn’t be very long until Ms. Frizzle turned up anyway. He could swallow his pride and take orders, couldn’t he?

Of course you can, sweetie.

Oh, sure. Just what he needed. River Song’s voice floating into his head and reminding him, by its mere presence, the many times he’d ended up deferring to her.

“But most of those were combined efforts,” the Doctor said aloud, even though he wasn’t doing a very good job of convincing himself. But he continued up the winding stairs anyway, hoping he wouldn’t have to wait very long. He wasn’t a very big fan of waiting.

XXXXXX

[this little bit below is all I had of the part you were no doubt actually interested in, and I haven’t written the surrounding scene]

“Ms. Valerie Frizzle, I presume?” the Doctor asked, grinning at her. “Pleased to meet you. I’m the Doctor.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Are you really? Well, then, I can assure you that the feeling is mutual, Doctor.”

“You’ve heard stories,” he surmised. Already. Well, he supposed that shouldn’t surprise him. She was teaching now, and from what she’d told him last time, she’d heard plenty of stories before that.

“Just a few,” she said, a familiar twinkle of amusement surfacing in her eye. “But never mind those.

#doctor who #the magic school bus #crossover #msb #dw #my writing #ladylynse #lynse's random WIPs #snippets #dw wip #dw snippet #msb wip #msb snippet #Anonymous

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viktorrotkiv · 5 years ago

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Hey @otherpeoplesheartachept-2! I don’t know if it’s intentional, but we’re each other’s @carryonsecretsanta secret santas! I loved writing for your prompt, I hope you enjoy this.

Prompt: Margaret the dragon has a girlfriend but they’ve been unable to see each other for years, finally they’re reunited

Word count: 1.9k

Genre: Fluff

The other dragons are waking. Margaret can feel it all over. At first, it’s a very low, very quiet vibration, shaking her legs and her fingers and knocking her teeth together whenever she’s in human form. She thinks it’s an incoming earthquake, but it lasts much too long for that. Days, weeks, maybe months. She doesn’t know. After so many years, time is a little blurry, but that doesn’t bother her. Next it turns into a rumbling sound, still distant and minor, but definitely growing stronger. At this point she starts to speculate what it really is. Then it becomes deafening. This part is shorter. A day or so, Margaret would say, if she really had to guess. Suddenly, one clear morning, they start waking up entirely. Popping up, Margaret calls it. Usually it’s just one or two at a time, but soon they’re all awake, and they start to talk and mingle among themselves. Most of them have been asleep for centuries, while others have been rooted in these mountains for much, much longer. There’s a lot of catching up to do after such a period of time.

Margaret takes tours of her new… neighborhood. She talks to a few dragons at a time, but so many new encounters exhaust her after a couple of centuries of quiet, and she goes home to rest very quickly. She doesn’t know most of the other dragons; a rare species doesn’t mean that there are subjectively few of them. One individual cannot know many hundreds of others, especially here, where she did not live for most of her life.

But one day, Margaret does meet someone she knows. She’s busy with her usual rounds, making introductions, warning the dragons against harming her human friend, engaging in conversations about the weather. (For dragons, these conversations aren’t as trivial as they are to humans, and they aren’t a symbol of politeness; the weather is as critical to their survival as food and beverage are, and they only discuss it with those they know or hope to get to know better.) In the distance, Margaret hears shrill, rolling laughter, an unmistakable noise. She immediately excuses herself from the circle she is standing in, bewildering her new friends, and goes back to her mountain. There, she sleeps and ponders, eats, ponders, naps, thinks some more, and finally, makes a decision.

The next day she goes around with a more specific purpose than before. Does anyone know her? Have they heard her incredible laughter? Have they met an irresistible yet infuriating dragon? It doesn’t take too long to find her. Ismelda is a people person. Or rather, a people dragon. A dragons dragon?

Margaret lands one mountain away. Flying has been difficult this past century or so, with all the pollution in the air. They may be dozens of miles from the nearest humans, but smoke travels, and it’s been hard on the lungs. That’s one reason why most of the dragons prefer to walk. There is also the slight chance of a human seeing them in the sky, and actually processing what they saw, and telling the world about them. The dragons wouldn’t care based on principle alone, but it might lead to some uncomfortable hassling. Tour guides. Memorabilia. It would be impossible to take naps with humans walking all over them.

This time, though, Margaret was in a hurry. So she flew, and she landed a short distance away, hidden by a thick woods. Her heart is beating quickly, but she’s sure that she wants to do this. She can be very stubborn, which is helpful, because she hardly ever regrets any decisions she makes.

Margaret takes a deep breath, steels her nerves, and walks over to Ismelda’s mountain. She can determine the exact moment that Ismelda notices her, and then, a split second later, the moment she recognizes her. A flurry of wings and excited exclamations surround Margaret, and before she can react she realizes that she’s engulfed in a hug. She doesn’t know how she feels about this. Ismelda did leave her all alone without explanation almost 200 years ago.

After a brief exchange of polite niceties, Margaret decides to get to the point. “I think you owe me an explanation.”

Ismelda looks confused. “I do? Look, I know I haven’t kept in touch, but I got back here and just went back to sleep. It was so cold, you wouldn’t believe it.”

Now Margaret is confused. “No, no, not that. You cannot be serious! Did our relationship really mean so little to you?”

“No, of course not. It was a lot of fun. I actually really liked you.” She studies her hands for a long moment. “I… I would have even considered staying in England for us, but I know you weren’t on the same page as me about that, so…. It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to get over it. Wait- where are you going? I’m sorry if I offended you-”

“I’m pacing.”

“You… huh?”

“I’m confused.” Margaret turns around and stares at the other dragon, but after a few seconds, her eyes start wandering uncomfortably. “You really liked me? A lot? But you came back here?”

“Yeah. Of course. I didn’t want to impose on you. And my vacation was supposed to be over, so…”

“But you weren’t imposing. I would have loved for you to stay.” Margaret sits down on the ground and holds her head.

Ismelda crouches down next to her. “Are you crying?”

“I’m just thinking. What you’re saying is, we both wanted you to stay and continue our relationship, but we each thought the other one wanted you to leave?”

“I guess so. We’re not very good at communicating, are we?”

Margaret lets go of her head and instead starts twisting her rings. A smile tugs at her lips. “Let’s stop doing that. It’s very inconvenient.”

Ismelda laughs the roaring laugh Margaret loves so much. “Yes, let’s. And in the spirit of that, how do you feel about me now?”

“That’s very forward.”

“I thought that was the point. I still have feelings for you, you know. I convinced myself that I didn’t, but seeing you again…” She drifts off and stares expectedly at Margaret. She thinks she knows what her answer is going to be.

“Yes.” She looks up at Ismelda and grins wildly. “Of course I still love you.” She seems taken aback by her own intensity, but her smile doesn’t falter. “Honesty, right? Then yes. I love you. I never stopped thinking about you.” She starts to say something else, but a kiss forces her to shut up.

Shepard comes to visit a week later. Margaret can tell he’s worried about something, and she tells him that. He gives her a half-smile. “Listen, Maggie, I’m going away for a bit. Do you remember the Mages that came by?”

“I remember. Not Mages. One Mage. And the kitten, and the…” She makes a sour face.

Shepard laughs. “Right. Well, they need to go back home now, and I’m going with them. They’ve already left, actually. My flight is tomorrow.”

“I don’t like them. Be safe”

“Yeah, I know you don’t, but I really do trust them, Maggie.”

Margaret nods. “I know. I trust you. Don’t trust them, trust you… When will you be back?”

“I’m not sure. This could take a while. Will you be alright by yourself, while I’m in England?”

“Who’s going to England?”

Shepard’s bewildered gaze travels over Margaret’s face and behind her, where he spots the speaker, partially camouflaged among the trees but coming closer. “Maggie, who’s this?”

“No need to panic. I’m Ismelda. You must be Shepard!”

“I am.” He still looks confused.

“Shep, this is Ismelda!” Margaret isn’t helping to alleviate his confusion.

“Yeah, I, I heard… Sorry, who are you? And please don’t say ‘I’m Ismelda’.”

“He’s funny!” Ismelda giggles. “I’m a dragon. I’m Margaret’s girlfriend.”

“Well, this is new!”

“You look mad, Shep. Are you mad?” Margaret crouches down and starts busying herself with something.

“No, of course not! I’m very happy for you. I just… when did this happen? I was here a couple of weeks ago.”

“Oh, a century or two ago.”

“What? So you just never told me about it? I’ve gotta admit, I’m a little bit hurt.” The twinkle in his eyes suggests otherwise.

“Oh, no no no, we only met again last week.”

“I’m confused again. Tell me everything.”

A fire blazes up between Margaret’s palms. So that’s what she was doing on the ground. “Sit.”

Shepard and Ismelda sit. Margaret talks. “Ismelda took a vacation in England almost two hundred years ago. She was traveling around the north and she heard about a range of dragons even further up. She decided she had to find it, even though it was already too cold for her. She’s dumb like that.”

“Hey!”

“Anyhow, she did find us, but she was cold and miserable by the time she got there. I agreed to house her and care for her until she could keep going-”

“I didn’t need caring for. It was more like a few meals, a hot bath, and a bed for a night or two.”

“-but we had a nice time together, and she stayed longer than planned. Eventually we… fell in love, I guess. We didn’t tell each other how serious it was at the time, but we did have a relationship. She stayed with me for the rest of her trip. When she was supposed to go home, she wanted me to ask her to stay, and I wanted her to let me know she wasn’t going… Neither of us said anything, and Ismelda left.”

“Shepard, are you crying?”

“He gets like that sometimes. Humans are strange.”

“Keep going! I need to hear the rest of the story!”

“I’m getting there. Ismelda went back home - here - and fell asleep. I decided that I needed a change of scenery and I decided to have a vacation of my own in America. We had never discussed where exactly Ismelda was from, but for some reason, I felt that this was the right place for me to settle.”

“You haven’t told me that! It’s like we’re soulmates.” Ismelda snuggles up to Margaret, reaching a hand towards the fire.

“I didn’t tell you because we’ve only been together for a week.”

“Not accurate.”

“You know what I mean. There wasn’t time.”

“Aww, you guys are adorable when you bicker!” They both stare at him. “Sorry. Keep going.”

“Well, I slept for a bit, but it quickly got too warm for me. I liked it here. I decided to stay a bit longer. Then I met you, and I decided to stay even longer… Then the others started waking up and I realized Ismelda was here.”

“What others?”

“The other dragons.”

“They’re awake?” Shepard stands, as if he intends to go meet them right now.

“The mountains are absolutely swarming with them,” Ismelda clarifies.

“Shepard, sit down. They’re not going to be as friendly to humans as we are. I’ll tell them about you and then we can introduce you when you get back.”

Shepard checks his watch. “I’ve gotta go! I’ll let you know when I’m back, Maggie,” he kisses her on the cheek, “it’s been lovely to meet you, Ismelda.” He gives her a hug, then starts walking away, waving. He turns around halfway down the mountain and yells, “I won’t forget you promised to introduce me to the other dragons!”

Ismelda chuckles, wrapping her arms around Margaret’s shoulders. “He’s cute.”

“Yes. I just wish he knew how to stay out of trouble.” Margaret leans back into Ismelda and closes her eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

#mineltg #my writing #carry on secret santa 2019 #carry on secret santa #wayward son #wayward son spoilers #shepard #margaret the dragon #carry on #carry on fanfic #ismelda the dragon

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knomcpersonal · 5 years ago

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i broke up with my friends last week

i mean, we’re still friends, but we’re not a poly triad anymore

the very very short version is that something happened between the girl and i, and i felt like i deserved an apology, and i was getting frustrated with her non-apologies. the boy then got angry with me for not accepting her apologies, and then we all said some shit and were generally assholes.

but in the period of time we weren’t speaking after we fought, i did a lot of thinking, and i did a lot of chatting with my friends. i realized that this relationship was nice, but it wasn’t what i wanted or needed anymore. what i wanted was a relationship with each of them, but what i was getting was them as a unit. for lack of a better term, i’d become their unicorn.

the boy came to spend the whole weekend with me two weeks ago, but he spent a lot of it texting the girl to make sure she was okay; during the fight we had a few days later, he told me he wished he would’ve gone home Saturday so she wouldn’t have had a meltdown. i felt slighted and he couldn’t understand why, “because i was selfish and stayed with you anyway”.

and without going into great detail, because it’s not polite to tell tales out of school, something else had come up that they kept secret from me “because it doesn’t concern [me].” it IS something that concerned me, because we were in a relationship and things about the relationship concern me. i tried to be sympathetic about it but honestly it just infuriated me; they both told me early on that they didn’t have secrets, but in reality they don’t have secrets from each other.

if i’m going to be in a poly relationship, i cannot be with two people who act and react as one party. they’re both incredible people, but there was no separating them at all, even though it seemed like they wanted to try. when it came down to the end, there was a point where boy even tried to apologize FOR girl for what had happened, and didn’t understand why it wasn’t good enough.

and i know i wasn’t perfect either, we were all flying by the seats of our pants, and there were some outside factors affecting our relationship too.

honestly i’m mostly writing this because i’m trying to get my thoughts in order - i did have a two hour face-to-face conversation with girl about what happened, but i haven’t seen or spoken to boy since the break up. we’ve texted a little here and there, and he did send an apology for what he said, but i told him i wasn’t ready to talk about it yet because i still felt raw about it.

part of me is really frustrated that i’d become their support system without them supporting me back - and maybe that’s because i’ve spent 5 years working on my brain while they’ve only recently started working on theirs. maybe i didn’t ask for the support i needed, or maybe they didn’t think i needed it because i’m in a much better mental health place than they are.

i’m still angry at some of the things boy said in our last fight, he kept circling back to how i fucked up and how i shouldn’t be angry about something that wasn’t about me. i’d try to tell him how i felt, but he just kept saying it and kept saying it and wouldn’t listen.

and my fucking anxiety just keeps nagging me, telling me things like “oh man you sure fucked up a good thing” and “maybe you’re just not meant to date, you just need to be single forever” and “alex has another girlfriend already, if he can do it why can’t you?” and i know none of those things are correct but those intrusive thoughts still exist in my head anyway

they’re coming over during rt extra life for a couple hours to have dinner and watch the evening shenanigans, and i’m excited to build up our friendship again. they really are some of my best friends and i’m glad this romantic break up hasn’t ruined our platonic feelings (at least on my end) and i’ve really missed hanging out with them.

#kenzie shut up

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emilyplaysotome · 6 years ago

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Chapter 16 - Surprise, Surprise

Catch up on all Chapters here: http://emilyplaysotome.tumblr.com/post/173554646607/down-the-voltage-rabbit-hole-the-sequel-master

“Well he’s mucked it all up, hasn’t he?” The king asked, staring down at Eisuke with disdain.

The normally bustling restaurant was now completely still in a way that felt unsettling. Waiters placed food down on tables and poured water suspended in time and space as the king and I continued to live our lives in regular time.

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused as to what the king was getting at.

“He wasn’t supposed to be the sixth man, but…I’ll admit in a way he is.”

“What?”

“You had one guess and he wasn’t the one.”

I could feel my heart sink at those words, but watching the king I could tell that there was more going on to this situation than met the eye.

“I lost?”

“You were supposed to lose if you guessed him but I realize now that you’re correct in a way, and a deal’s a deal.”

“Wait…I’m sorry. I’m confused. Have I won Meg back or not?”

“Yes,” he said begrudgingly. “I’ll allow it. I know you think I’m a cheat, but I assure you that’s not the case.”

I was still uncertain as to what was happening when the king sighed and with a groan snapped again, producing Meg in front of me out of thin air.

“Naomi!”

“Meg!”

We hugged and even though we were ecstatic to be reunited once more, the king didn’t care much for what was happening with the two of us.

“You’re lucky I decided to read his mind when I did Goldfish or I might not have been as generous,” he droned on in the background.

His general attitude made me worry that my seeing Meg might be short lived, and I pulled away from her in order to figure out if I had her back for good this time.

“So I no longer have to guess the sixth man, right?”

The king let out another annoyed growl, almost was as if he was angry at me for not being the mind reader that he was.

“No. I will accept Eisuke even though the correct answer was Toma though.”

“But…”

“It’s my fault for not seeing it sooner. I had hoped that he would help me trick you, but it never occurred to me that his desire to come to this realm was more about being able to be there for you. I should have done more research before I approached him with my plan.”

“Research?”

“Good heavens you’re an infuriating one today! Yes. Research. You weren’t really on my radar when you first arrived, remember? Leon was the one keeping an eye on you and it was only when he started reporting to me that you were making eyes at Zyglavis that I began to check in.”

“Oh.”

“I witnessed him go to bat for his friend but it never occurred to me…not once…that he might be pining away for you while still supporting his friend.”

I felt lucky that the king was being generous, but I was surprised that he’d failed to fully understand who he brought to this world. I had it in my head that the whole time this had been a David vs. Goliath story and that most of the events that happened around me were his doing - managed by a mastermind of mischief. It had never occurred to me that he was rolling the dice as much as I was during this process, though maybe thinking that way about him was a bit too liberal in regards of his abilities to see how things would play out.

It was odd seeing someone like the king as fallible and naturally it was the moment I thought such a thing that the king let out a caustic chuckle and added, “I forgot how strange and sentimental you goldfish are. I’ve watched you for my entire life, over so many periods in human history and yet I often forget about your capacity for complexity.”

He looked at Eisuke somewhat wistfully and with a gloved hand gently touched his frozen cheek. Meg and I glanced at each other unsure as to what was happening until the king looked at us with a bright smile.

“Should I take this one back to my world too?”

“Actually…and I can’t believe I’m saying this but…can I keep him here for now?”

“Have a change of heart are we?”

“Mmm doubtful, but I think he might come in handy if you’re willing to give me that small advantage.”

The king clicked his tongue and with a wry, teasing smiled noted, “You seem to be doing far too well all things considered. And now that you have her I worry that I might be the underdog in this game I’ve orchestrated.”

“I’m sure you’ve still got a few tricks up your sleeve,” I said cautiously.

To that he grinned at me like the Cheshire Cat and nodded before snapping his fingers and restarting time.

Eisuke’s steak should have gone cold considering how long the king and I had talked, but true to the magic the king’s presence injected into this world I watched as he brought the steak to his lips and chewed, as if this second bite 15 minutes later was identical to the first. It took him a few seconds to register Meg’s presence and when he did he raised an eyebrow before giving her a small nod and taking another bite.

“Pull up a chair if you want to order something,” he said, gesturing to a waiter who pulled up a chair for her.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Meg said. “I feel like I’ve heard far too much from your annoying friends.”

“Oh?” Eisuke asked despite his tone hinting at his disinterest.

“Fuck! I’m glad to be back,” Meg said chuckling before waving over a waiter and pointing at Eisuke’s steak. “Hey - I’ll get what he’s eating.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at Meg’s attitude. I remembered vividly all the emotions I’d felt upon my return and there she was looking at her time away almost as if it was merely a nuisance. She looked great - slightly more fit and was wearing a cool and very fashionable bizarro Tokyo outfit.

Her hair was styled in beachy waves and she wore a fitted shirt that hugged her curves and left her shoulders and clavicle bare with dark jeans and cute ballet flats. Her makeup was done differently than her usual look (when she chose to wear makeup) and instead of a natural look her eyes really popped thanks to her dark winged eye liner.

“Naomi - I have to say...I’m glad the only person on the planet who understands what happened is you because fuck!”

“Must you keep cursing?” Eisuke asked in a slightly perturbed tone.

Meg turned towards him and looking him directly in the eyes smiled and said, “Fuck you and fuck your criminal friends.”

It was then that the relief of having her back for good combined with the scene playing out before me caused me to belly laugh in a way I hadn’t done since her disappearance. My laugh made Naomi start to laugh and in a matter of moments we were reduced to two giggling schoolgirls.

In fact, we laughed so hard and for so long that by the time our laughter finally subsided, Meg’s steak had arrived and Eisuke grumbled, “It’s not that funny,” in protest of being completely out of control for once.

“How bad was it?” I asked.

“I mean...you’ve met me. And you’ve met Baba...”

“Oh boy.”

“I don’t know what it is about guys like him that make me want to knock them down a peg...”

“God I want to know everything...”

“So much happened. I think I broke the romance world you love so much.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I don’t think there’s a single trope in that world I came to appreciate. For sure not the ones that are friends with him, but even outside of the hotel.”

“Really? You weren’t tempted by any of them? Not one?”

Meg hesitated for a second and in that second I knew that she’d met someone who had stirred something in her heart, despite the broken state it might currently be in. She lied in that moment though, shaking her head no and said, “Not really. And what about you?”

“I’m just happy to have you back, and I’m surprised that the king allowed it.”

“Why wouldn’t he have allowed it?” Eisuke asked curtly.

“Because the sixth man wasn’t you. But apparently you like me sooooo...”

Never in my life did I think I’d have the chance to tease Eisuke and I was not about to let this one pass me by.

His cheeks immediately flushed and he defensively lowered his eyes to his food and both Meg and I cackled. It was a bit mean of us but we were back to being two peas in a pod and as insensitive as it was it couldn’t be helped.

“I’m certain I don’t know why,” he said gruffly, desperately trying to regain the upper hand.

It was obvious that a man with such ego was not used to being at a disadvantage, and he continued to go about his business eating as the red hue in his face continued to deepen.

“Because Naomi is great - don’t give me that shit,” Meg quipped, eating her steak in a voracious manner. “And all of you have a complex where no one sees you for who you are and once they do you all fall fucking hard.”

Eisuke’s silverware clattered against his plate as he dramatically let them fall out of frustration.

“Must you curse like a sailor? We are in a nice steakhouse trying to enjoy a nice lunch...”

“I’m enjoying my lunch just fine and after being kidnapped for a month or two I’m just happy to be back in a world where people curse and aren’t incredibly reserved. The cultural differences between here and fake Tokyo were really starting to wear on my dumb American spirit.”

“I see,” he said, his words reeking of judgement. “I can’t imagine your charm did much for you in my world, unlike Naomi who somehow walks that perfect line between empowered and ladylike.”

“Ahaha hear that Omi?”

“Shut it.”

“And I’ll have you know Mister Ichinomiya,” Meg said, mouth full dragging out his name for effect, “Your buddies were pretty taken with me. Seems like my honey badger spirit was quite refreshing when compared with the meek women at the Tres Spades who just follow you and your boys around like dumb groupies.”

“Excuse me?”

Meg nodded, cheeks full of steak and a happy, slightly messy smirk. She chewed a bit more and swallowed the hunk of meat she’d been working on before replying triumphantly, “Yeah dude. Baba thought I was hilarious and told me I managed to ‘breathe life into the stalest of chases’, Mamoru felt as if I could just be one of the guys, and Ota kept saying he wanted me to be his pet or some shit, but by the end he was all blushy and asking me if I’d dom him.”

“I really didn’t need to know that,” Eisuke said with a disgusted look on his face.

Meg shrugged unfettered by Eisuke’s discomfort, and took another swing of water before flippantly replying, “You asked.”

“Yeah you kind of did...” I echoed.

“Naomi, do you think you could catch up with your friend some other time?” Eisuke asked more forcefully than usual.

Meg let out a chuckle and popped the last piece of steak in her mouth before getting up.

“Sure Romeo. I’d like to catch up on email before everyone realizes I’ve gone missing. How long has it been?”

“Not long,” I reassured Meg. “Like...4? 5 days?”

Meg scoffed and shook her head, “That’s crazy. It was almost a month in that world.”

“Believe me I understand.”

She picked up her bag, which had made it to and from the otome realm with her and told me to text her when I was done with work and left, not even bothering to say goodbye to Eisuke.

Meg had come in her usual loud, boisterous self and her absence left us in silence. Eisuke motioned to the waiter for the check, and once it had been delivered he put down cash.

“That friend of yours is...quite crass.”

“Meg is always herself no matter the company.”

“She’s your best friend?”

“One of them.”

“You can’t have more than one best friend. That negates the title.”

I could feel myself about to get into an argument but stopped myself and instead looked him square in the eyes and asked, “What is it that you really want to say?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Eisuke paused momentarily, pursed his lips and said, “If you think I’m about to confess my love you’re sorely mistaken.”

“So you didn’t come here to win my heart then?”

“I came here for Soryu. But...then I saw you and we started arguing and I felt a strange affection for you. I wouldn’t say I want to win your heart...more that I’m irritated you can’t see that I’m better than any man you could ever hope to date. I shouldn’t have to win you. You should be trying to win me. And you don’t. And that infuriates me.”

The scene felt reminiscent of a therapy session if I’m being honest and I watched him unpack the things he was feeling, his expression twisting with discomfort as he realized how hard it was to not always get what you want.

The waiter returned with his changed and he left a nice tip, stuffing the rest into his wallet quite carelessly which was unlike him. I could tell he was agitated, not to mention frustrated by how his true intentions had come to light and when he stood to leave the table I grabbed ahold of his sleeve.

“No. Let’s finish this.”

“What?”

“Sit - I want to talk this out. I don’t want you to run away from me…”

“What do you really care Naomi? You got Meg back after all…it’s not like you actually like me. I can tell. That’s why this is all so maddening.”

“I don’t not like you.”

“Wow. Thank you. That’s basically what every man longs to hear,” he said sarcastically. He pulled his arm away from me, and I found myself reaching out once more.

“Eisuke, stop. Let’s not do this. Let’s talk like grown ups.”

“There’s nothing to say. You know how I feel now…and…and…”

I could feel someone’s eyes on me but didn’t dare look over for fear that if I shifted my attention nothing would be resolved. I pulled him back down into our seats and just as I was forming my rebuttal, I felt his lips on mine. I was stunned to be honest - I never expected him to just kiss me out of the blue, especially considering I was convinced that the remnants of my lunch might be present on my face.

I don’t know if it was the shock or the inner monologue but I found myself allowing it to go on longer than I ever would have thought. It was strange kissing a man that I didn’t even particularly like and even stranger that I sort of enjoyed it.

He was my client…a thorn in my side…and yet I started to relax into his arms, and his kiss…

…and then as quickly as he’d moved in, he pulled back and I was left panting and docile with a curious expression on my face.

“I have to go,” he muttered and I was so caught off guard I did nothing to stop him from running away from me.

I brought my hand to my lips and with my thumb wiped away a trace of wetness the kiss left behind. I started to compose myself and it was then that I turned to see Jin at the window, looking in at me past the client he was speaking with outside the steakhouse and I realized that his being there was not mere coincidence.

This was the king fighting back after I’d had too many wins, too quickly.

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Thanks for reading :)

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