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toasted-valentine · 9 months ago

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Even more Adamandi Things That Got Me Feral

Fair warning, a lot of this is me speculating and nerding out about stage craft, I’ve work set crew for three shows and used to perform when I was younger, so stuff like this scratches my brain in all the right spots. I had to quit cause the new director in my school had the habit of throwing objects at student’s heads when angry. I love theater, wish I could’ve done it more, but I was not willing to risk my own safety for that man. More than one person got hurt, and I took that as a sign to exist stage left.

I’m gonna refer to the actors outside their characters with gender neutral pronouns because I don’t know any of their pronouns, except Vincent’s actor since I follow his Instagram for his art. Dudes got a really cool digital painting style.

•Beatrix mimics The Admin’s hand motions at the end of Read All About It, visually showing how they’re just mimicking what Admin wants, even being a bit freaked out from it. They stumble after The Admin leaves, and look around a tad dazed. These aren’t Beatrix’s own desires, she’s just as much of a puppet as anyone else at Ardess.

•Vincent’s costume patterns clash against each other, stripes, pentagons, and plaid making him stand out. Vincent’s clothing doesn’t even fit in, fighting against itself.

•Vincent’s attempts to join the crowd in Word To The Wise are off sink and off beat, they’re literally being pushed out by the rest.

•Beatrix’s hand movements within Me, Myself, and I cue the others to start singing at the end, a visualization of her pulling the strings. They’re the last one to start singing the “Me, Myself, and I” line when all three groups join in together.

•Vincent completely misses that he could’ve just become a painter, that they’re good at that, and it goes right over their head in Student Body. Like, yes bitch, “as natural as painting” you’re already good at something, don’t gotta go the extra homicidal mile.

•Vincent changes costumes several times within the show and it visually shows his progress into becoming Ambrose. They start not wearing a jacket when freshly in New England, then the long jacket makes him stand out against the rest of the cast so he doesn’t fit in, the yellow cardigan is what Ambrose was wearing at the beginning during Word To The Wise showing Vincent wants to be the Ambrose he remembers from freshman year, later becoming Senior Bassford with the letterman and lashing out to try and bash Beatrix’s head in like Ambrose tried to do to him, and finally settling on no jacket when he’s in his most complete and satisfied form in death.

•Quincy asks if Vincent would kill them, questioning what happens when it’s just the two left, and Vincent holds true that they’d never hurt Quincy. Admin does end up deciding that Vincent wins between the finalist, and Quincy kills Vincent. Vincent keeps to his promise, but Quincy never considers their own potential danger to Vincent in that moment.

•The fact Quincy is too tall to kiss Vincent when standing up, so the actors have to hug when standing, and can only kiss when sitting. It’s so fucking funny to me, cause it would’ve been too awkward a visual to have Quincy’s actor bend down to kiss Vincent’s actor, and due to the height difference they couldn’t do the same staging trick done with Beatrix and Portia’s kiss. The theater kid in me finds this hilarious.

•The red string Beatrix used to remember the lie to Vincent is longer than the rest, allowing the audience to have a constant visual reminder of what Beatrix did. The rest are blue and short, so it’s visually distinct, the bright shade helps it be seen from the seats.

•The actor for Beatrix does a fuck ton of really good visual storytelling, round of applause to them, I like the little bit when they start wrapping the string around their fingers when Portia starts asking about Ambrose’s death and it potentially being motivated by someone wanting to off the other nominees. They do it multiple times, and it’s a great way of showing where the character’s mind is at without saying anything out loud. Plus the little horrified reactions they have during Read All About it, little hesitations throughout the entire show are a nice touch of making it clear the character isn’t very sure about their actions.

•Vincent flipping the typewriter around to face the audience during Oh, Miss Reporter!, showing that he’s imagining the interview and desires one, but can’t really have one due to the nature of his crimes.

•The “fill the fake cigarette with flour” trick to make it look like Beatrix is smoking, really old trick, but such a fun one. When the actor blows into it the flour puffs out, making it look like smoke. I’ve done it a few times in the past for a show my sophomore year, could only do it once tho since we didn’t have time to refill it, so it was up to the actor to decide when it was appropriate to take the puff.

•Roswell hands Beatrix the key to the prize section in Word To The Wise, shoving them out of sight out of mind, and they keep the key on until the end. Roswell and co also give them the jacket and hat. All of it is removed at the end, having them in their best when out of Ardess society.

•You can see how fast each character assimilated based on how long it takes for them to get in step with the ensemble during Word To The Wise, Ambrose first, then Beatrix, then Quincy, and Vincent never manages to join the rest.

•The red strings are taped to the desk, it gives the actor for Beatrix ease to grab it, and there’s multiple incase one falls and they need to grab a new one fast. Plus, good visual storytelling for certain moments, the reminder of what they did is constantly following.

•Quincy gets annoyed when their race is brought up during their interview with Beatrix, and Beatrix doesn’t push any further when told to stop. It’s a nice bit of just clown to clown communication, Beatrix just getting why Quincy wouldn’t want to discuss it any further.

•During Vincent’s interview with Beatrix you can see them getting distracted by everything around them, and in one of the takes he starts carving something into the table. Nice little detail of Vincent having wanted to be a visual artist, but he couldn’t due to his family. They actually starts carving when they brings that fact up.

•The bag that Vincent carries has the different props they need for act one, the scalpel, magnifying glass, and notebook. He takes the magnifying glass during his interview and returns it later in order to bribe Beatrix, whips the scalpel out later on during the Ambrose fight, and is writing in the notebook during the first act. The props are too big to carry in pockets, so the bag is a good way of getting around it. It makes sense character wise, and helps avoid the actor having to rush to find a prop on stage or it having to be positioned within reach of someone.

•During Where Can I Run, Beatrix is following Vincent with a notepad and pencil, nice little show that she’s still interviewing them. Show don’t tell, it tells the audience that he’s still in the interview, but they don’t have to stop to establish what’s happening so they can stay on track for the song.

•When Vincent and Beatrix are smoking on the roof, Vincent’s actor knocks two of the candles over, and you can see him trying to put the candles back in place while faking smoking to make it less noticeable.

•If I were to take a guess, some of the close up shots were done during dress rehearsals so the person recording wouldn’t have to work around an audience and could get better shots, so you can see the costumes change slightly in the recording. It’s a few small things like Beatrix’s actor losing the lapel that they have on during The One Who Pulls The Strings and the tags not having been cut off their gloves at that point. For most of the show they don’t have the tags or lapel, it’s just most noticeable during The One Who Pulls The Strings. If I were to take a shot in the dark, the costume designer bought the gloves that day for the dress rehearsal, but didn’t have time to tie the strings on or cut the tags off.

•Ambrose calls Vincent by his name right before Sound Body Sound Mind, but later on stumbles over calling him Vincent, he stutters halfway through then corrects to calling them Lin. Ambrose remembers Vincent telling him not to call them Vincent, and Ambrose listens when talking to his girlfriend.

•Ambrose’s jacket has multiple A’s on it, he’s obsessed with Ardess’ culture, and has it plastered all over. The other Marmorius member in a letterman also has multiple A’s.

•Vincent being a little shit by silently reading his notebook the first time he’s asked to read it by the Marmorius. That’s just funny.

•Most of Ambrose’s songs are sung in lower notes, but higher ones for I Love You I Swear, even in his songs Ambrose is obsessed with not having anything even slightly femme. It’s only when alone and vulnerable that Ambrose sings how he’s actually feelings. His actor deserves a pat on the back for absolutely carrying, they have really good range and pull off an asshole jock character super well. Ambrose’s character would not work as well as it does if the actor wasn’t as charming with it as they are. 10/10 casting, did it perfectly.

•"I guess I’m married to my work? God that’s depressing.” Is the funniest joke in the show, the delivery of the line made me laugh my ass off first time I saw it, and it makes me smile whenever I watch Adamandi.

•Each of the characters have distinct ways of sitting, which is such a nice way to add personality. You can see these in the different interview scenes, and Beatrix’s conversation with Vincent in the first act.

-Ambrose is lax, seems generally uninterested, he keeps leaning back to avoid making eye contact, and whenever he does look at Beatrix it’s while doing a jackass hand lean.

-Beatrix sits in the gayest way humanly possible during her discussion with Vincent, taking her jacket off and being more casual than she was during the interviews. You can also see them stress smoking throughout the show, during Word To The Wise, when discussing the previous winners with Vincent, when talking about work and Portia with Vincent on the roof, and when trying to convince Portia to not report Vincent for the murders.

-Vincent puts their feet up on the table and Beatrix has to shoo them off, along with that, Vincent continually gets distracted by different objects. He’s not super interested in the interview, just wanting to get it over with fast.

-Quincy tries to keep focused on Beatrix, but keeps flickering their gaze elsewhere nervously, and fidgets with their hands in their lap.

-Portia is the only one whose completely focused on Beatrix instead of having her mind wander someone else. Occasionally she gets shy and will avert her gaze because she catches herself staring at Beatrix, gay panic ensues lol

•The candles are electric, most likely someone backstage has a remote to them, and they flicker in different ways to emphasize different things. It’s such a fun little detail, and whoever was doing it probably had a lot of fun fiddling with the flames. Such a funky little thing. You can see it a lot in Litany of the Martyrs.

•There’s a fucking A on Ambrose’s sweater under his jacket, he’s such a self obsessed jackass, love that lol

•During Me, Myself, and I, when Beatrix is doing their weird little pose while distracted, the way their hands are positioned makes the red string on the side of Vincent and the Marmorius.

•At the beginning of Read All About It, the way Beatrix’s actor lifts the newspaper allows them to wave the newspaper, but also keeps the red string in direct sight of the audience.

•Beatrix takes up Vincent’s green color in the end, their new jacket being a foresty green, I like to think it’s cause they don’t wanna forget him.

•Portia doesn’t get her Ardess jacket until she’s joined the prize section and Beatrix starts teaching her via the mock interview, she has a click to be apart of so fits in. The pink color keeps her visually distinct, most of the other cast wear more earthy or cool tones, a lot of blues, browns, yellows, greens, and grays. Portia’s make her stand out as a more good natured character in comparison. Even the A on her jacket is in a different style, she’s taking advantage of Ardess, but isn’t apart of the culture.

•After the Marmorius die they all gain red trinkets of some kind on their outfit to indicate they’re dead. Ambrose’s is around his neck since Vincent slit his throat. They’re all made out of a shiny material that the lights catch on and make stand out.

•The desk that is brought out in the second act for when Beatrix and Portia are talking has red strings falling out of one of the drawers, Beatrix is running out of space to tie it to on their hands, so it’s just spilling out onto other things.

•Vincent’s bag has a bunch of little sketches on it, some eyes and a few rats are what I could make out, really nice visual that Vincent is an artist. Makes you think “What if he’d just been an artist?” since that probably would’ve fixed a lot of their issues of feeling unfulfilled and like an outcast.

•Portia’s bag has an eye design on it, even tho she’s not fully apart of Ardess culture, she’s still feeling the pressure of being watched.

•When Beatrix and Portia’s actors are exiting the stage after the Vincent pyre scene, you can see Beatrix’s actor begin to fucking book it back stage when the lights go down and they don’t think the audience can see. They need to switch costume really fast and get into position on the scaffolding, so gotta go fast. The hat is actually different, the old one is left with their jacket on the chair in the prize section set, the new one has a different colored ribbon. Old hat’s ribbon was green with a bow, new one is black with no bow.

•I just fucking noticed that the eyepatch Vincent wears in The Other Side Of Failure has the shape of a heart on it. That’s so fucked up.

#adamandi #vincent aurelius lin #beatrix valeria campbell #quincy cynthius martin #portia harper #ambrose bassford

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crowning-art · 2 years ago

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TGCF SPOILERS

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I AM OBSESSED! I LOVE LOVE LOVE HUA CHENG AND GOUSHI'S DYNAMIC! lmao of all the relationships I expected to love, this random, borderline in-law duo has got to be my fave!

Thus, Hua Cheng went forward, and held onto Guoshi's arm as if he was assisting an elderly senior. "Guoshi, sir, please. Watch your step."

Guoshi turned his head and saw the one assisting him wasn't Xie Lian, and knitted his brows.

"Huh? Why is it you?"

Xie Lian guessed that Hua Cheng was worried it might not be convenient for Xie Lian to take another person along. Also, Hua Cheng wanted, for the sake of some particular goal, to show himself off a little in front of the elder, to demonstrate some attentive diligence, which was why he offered to take over.

Seeing this, Xie Lian couldn't help but puff a laugh, hiding it with a light cough. "San Lang said very sincerely that he wanted to assist you, so I…"

As for Hua Cheng, he said, with a smile covering his face, "Does it matter if it's me or gege?

Besides, I respect you very much, sir, so of course I don't mind assisting, this is nothing."

Guoshi was speechless for a moment, then said, "If you really do respect me, then put away that fake smile on your face. That fakeness really is too much…"

Hua Cheng immediately put that smile away. "Oh."

I am so worried. The one time the snake eyes show up on the dice is probably gonna be the first and last time...and also the worst time

I KNEW MU QING WAS SUS!! I KNEW IT!! I CALLED IT! HE IS FAKE FOR SURE!

Hmmmm Feng Xin....I dunno....it seems kinda ✨️interesting✨️ how you can tell the body of your "enemy" from just his shadow 🤔 😏

Feng Xin enunciated, “It was precisely because the Heavenly Capital was ablaze, and there was firelight all over the ground. It reflected the shadow of that person behind me. Even though I didn’t get the chance to look back, when I fell, I saw the shape of that shadow and the attack move. It was your shadow!”

SO CUTE!! Rouye is #1 hualian stan and cutest cutie in the world

He steadied himself, and speechlessly picked up Ruoye, muttering at it, “You little traitor…”

Ruoye was wisely playing dead, laying unmoving. Xie Lian didn’t want to say any more to it either and threw it aside.

Lmao the way Fengqing had to constantly remind Xie Lian to not 'lose his marbles' every time he sees Hua Cheng and Xie Lian proceeds to do EXACTLY that lmaoooo

MU QING HAS A CURSED SHACKLE??? DUDE I AM SO SHOCKED THOOO FOR WHAT???? Also ugh so utterly disgusted with Jun Wu like excuse me??? What did u ask Mu Qing to do to Xie Lian that was so vile???? I am gonna slaughter Jun Wu myself rn

Equally sus of Mu Qing to go out of his way to save his "enemy" mmmmmm smt is up

who is real? Damn...imagine if they are all real and I'm just thinking they were fake and confused.

I get it, and especially because to cope with the trauma, Xie Lian either avoids it or jokes about it and ya...Hua Cheng baby boi has every right to be mad :(

Hua Cheng’s expression was terrifyingly dark, and he squeezed harder. “How did you plan on defending yourself? Put your sword down!”

This was the first time Hua Cheng had ever spoken to Xie Lian with this kind of expression and tone, and Xie Lian was completely taken aback.

Another one for the non-existent bingo I have made for tgcf, this time it's everyone surfing??? On corpses???

The three rode the mutants and flowed down with the current. As if they were rafting, the further down the stream they went, the steeper the hills became, and the faster the speed.

THIS HIT HARD OH MY GOD

“…BELIEVE ME! YOUR HIGHNESS, YOU KNOW I WASN’T LYING, DON’T YOU? YOU KNOW I WOULDN’T HAVE REALLY HARMED ANY OF YOU, RIGHT??”

“…”

The way he was begging Xie Lian, so full of hope, like he was hanging on to the last thread of his life, suddenly made Xie Lian remember another scene from another time. That time, when dusk was falling, many, many years ago, when he too begged Mu Qing with the same desperate hope—

“You know I wasn’t lying, right?”

How had Mu Qing answered him back then?

RELATIONSHIP GOALS FOR REAL THOO T-T GET U A MAN LIKE HUA CHENG AND NOTHING LESS

“But, only His Highness can decide on whatever he chooses. I will never oppose his decisions.”

I. AM. LOSING. MY. MIND.

Mu Qing had thought Xie Lian’s silence was him hesitating on whether or not to save him, but turns out Xie Lian was instead trying to think of how to save him. And thank goodness that Xie Lian could still think with such a clear head in such a dire situation.

The beads of sweat on his forehead were rolling thicker.

The moment he looked up, Xie Lian had extended a hand to him, smiling. “In any case, although a little late, this hand isn’t extended too late, right?”

YO DONT EVEN GET IT!! THIS IS BASICALLY EXACTLY LIKE THE BAMBOO HAT SITUATION AND I AM CRYING IN THE CLUB RN!! HE NEEDED ONE PERSON AND MU QING NEEDED ONE PERSON AND ALL IT EVER TAKES IS ONE PERSON! I LITERALLY CANNOT RN

Hua Cheng JUMPED AGAIN??? DJDJFJJFJF OH BOI WHERE IS THIS GOING NOW

#tian guan ci fu #tgcf #xie lian #heaven’s official blessings #hua cheng #heaven's official blessings spoilers #tgcf spoilers #tgcf journey #ch 230-234

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radfae · 15 days ago

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True yeah cos he was on it for seizures rather than mood. I have a friend with bpd idk what she was on but I remember she suffered a lot and treatment helped. Not minimising my exs epilepsy but because he knew when they would come on he wasnt at super risk of dying so that likely helped. I just wanted to warn you re memory loss. Yeah he was lucky he had finished college. He got his symptoms last semester of college after I had graduated so I don't know how well medicated he was but he definitely had his grades slip which was very unlike him. He was that straight A kind of person. It's hard to know if he could have got by through college cos there would be so much less to balance than working and studying.

I think it would be hard to study on that medication. Obviously these were professional exams not college exams and I've sat professional exams in a different area (which I work in) and they are pretty damn hard compared to college exams. A course which you have to balance with work which can be quite intense.

He also had a time limit to sit the exams and still get exemptions from part of the training based on his college grades so he had a time pressure!! Yeah i don't know how it interacts with ADHD meds and stuff he wasn't on stuff like that. Yeah I think people just knew him as the kinda scatty college student he was pre medication (not unlike myself) but obviously as I saw him all the time I could see the extent of all the forgetting things professionally, socially etc. i remember a party where he was asked to tell a nice memory about a friend and he totally blanked on literally anything to say despite them being old friends and he played it off. But when he got home he knew it was the medication cos no one would forget literally any memory with a friend he used to travel abroad with and with spend loads of time in college with etc. So it definitely was worse than short term memory loss only. Though he definitely had that.

Definitely brain conditions just suck. People had a lot of empathy for epilepsy like id say my partner is an epileptic and people would be instantly understanding but my friend with bpd suffered a lot she pushed people away people stigmatised her a lot... even though both are just brain issues at the end of the day. I am gonna meet up with her soon so if medication comes up I will ask about it. I think she had problems with food / ed too but it was something we never got deep enough to discuss.

I feel that his college friend were always there for my exs epilepsy even though they couldnt understand the condition. They could tell even though he would always hide his seizures and downplay them even when he was hospitalised. Maybe they were an understanding bunch compared to my bpd friend's friends and less understanding people just peeled away. And they were all his college friends if that gives you hope for college that there are people who understand these really tough conditions. 🥰 you might find your tribe.

I hope you find a good treatment 🙏 it totally sucks but as your follower and senior of over 10 years my heart goes out to you as you remind me of my friend with bpd when we were younger. And she is really doing super well in life professionally and socially (she emigrated so I just don't see her that often but last time I saw her she looked so happy and peaceful so I am sure she has a good treatment plan these days.

awww thank you so much for the message 🥺🥺 i’ll definitely keep everything in mind school wise. i’m only taking a couple of classes so i’m not overly worried but if it conflicts with my ability to study it will probably be a dealbreaker for me. bpd is super stigmatized so it’s so tough to try to look for help and support and everything out there is about how hard it is to deal with pwbpd. it’s really good to hear that your friend is doing well, it makes me feel hopeful for myself and others and i’m happy for her too! i know i’m still very young and naive and it always makes me really happy and sentimental to hear from people with more life experience than me. all of my older followers are like my big sisters.. 🫶

#took me a while to type this because mobile is lagginggggg

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messers-moony · 4 years ago

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Wish | F.H

Paring: Five Hargreeves X Wife!Reader

Summary: Five storms out to time travel after an argument with his wife and comes back to an unexpected surprise.

A/N: Five time travels at the age of 26 instead of 13

He was angry, that wasn’t mistaken, “ You aren’t listening to me! “

“ Are you hearing yourself?! What you’re about to do is dangerous! “ She yelled in response, and he scoffed.

They stood in the main room of their apartment. Y/n was placed in the kitchen leaning on the island while Five was dangerously close to the door. Both of them at the age of twenty-five. They had gotten married only a year before finding each other during one of his trips to Griddy’s with his siblings. He thought she was the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

Five stalked closer to her, “ You are so stubborn. “

“ I am the strongest one. “ His voice was dangerously low as they stood only a foot apart, “ I will do this. I don’t care what you say. Nothing will change that. “

“ Five, please. “ Y/n begged, “ I’m- I’m just worried about you. “

“ You don’t need to be. “ Five snapped, and he fast-walked to the door.

The male swung open the door, “ Five wait, please- “ But before she could finish, the door slammed, “ I’m pregnant. “

It was new news. She didn’t find out until a week earlier. She didn’t know when to tell him; there never was a suitable time. Now he had just threatened to fulfill a lifetime goal of his– time travel. Since he was a boy, he’s wanted to prove his worth. The only way Five could think to do that is by time-traveling into the future. He didn’t know what the future would entail. He definitely didn’t plan to get stuck in an apocalypse.

So for nine torturous months, Y/n endured a pregnancy. She was carrying a child of her presumed to be dead husband, which she didn’t believe in the slightest. Five Hargreeves was alive, and she knew that regardless of what anyone told her. She had a baby boy who she named Malachi. The same bright, alluring green as his fathers.

Despite his birth father not being around, Diego was a significant help. Diego stepped in where Five couldn’t. He was there for all of Malachi’s firsts and everything in between. But he was always Uncle Diego. A constant reminder that this man wasn’t his father. As far as the little boy knew, he didn’t have a father.

Things got more tricky as he got older. Malachi realized that a father figure was more common than not, which brought raising questions. She answered to the best of her abilities, but nothing was ever valid. None of her answers could be a hundred percent true because she didn’t know either. It was killing her to see her son this way.

He longed for a father. Wanted nothing more for a father-son relationship. Every birthday, every Christmas, he wished for his father to come home. It was killing Y/n because she understood his pain. The amount of dread, guilt, and sadness.

Maybe if she had told Five sooner, he would’ve never left. The guilt ate away at her. It was like an insect slowly crawling its way under her skin into her bones and nibbling them until they were gone. It didn’t help Malachi was an exact replica of his father. The dark, almost raven hair parted to the side, the glittering green eyes and a defined face.

No matter how long Five was gone, Y/n never took off her rings. She was a married woman until proven otherwise. Malachi had never even seen photos of his father. That was normal to him. All he knew was that his Uncles and Aunts told him he looked the exact same. Despite the same appearances, they had clashing personalities.

Malachi was the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Kind no matter who the person was. Wise beyond his years and intelligent like no other. His strong suit was English while he struggled in math. The irony was amusing. His father excelled in math, but he couldn’t do a two-step equation if he tried.

In the grand scheme of things, this didn’t matter. He got all the way up to high school. He was seventeen, to be exact, in his junior year of school. It was the summer before his senior year, and he couldn’t be more excited. As the years went on, the hope of meeting his father diminished to the point where he didn’t even think about it anymore.

He had his mom, and that’s all that mattered. His mom was his rock, his number one supporter, and his best friend. Malachi loved his mom more than anything and would give anything to keep her safe. Diego had grown to be like a father to him, but it was never the same. Malachi was sitting at the island doing homework while Y/n was cooking.

“ Hey, mom? “ He called, “ Yeah? “ Y/n turned to look at her son.

Malachi fidgeted with the pencil in his hand, “ Can I- Can I see your rings? “

“ My rings? Why? “ She asked, “ Well, dad gave them to you, didn’t he? “ Malachi replied.

Y/n nodded, “ Of course he did. We were married, technically we still are married. “

“ I just wanted to see what dad gave you. “ He murmured.

Hesitantly Y/n twisted both her engagement ring and her wedding ring off her left ring finger. She set them down on the granite island before her son so he could look at them. Gently he picked the engagement ring up and looked at it. It was the only time he’s ever seen the ring this close. She never took them off.

“ We got engaged in the snow. “ Y/n informed quietly, “ I really wasn’t expecting it. He never seemed like one to settle down. “

Malachi listened intently, “ Regardless. It was almost Christmas, and he took me to go Christmas shopping at one of the malls which was outside. “ She chuckled, “ Why he did that, I don’t know, but it was amusing. We got hot chocolate despite his love for coffee, and I made him wear a Santa hat. “

“ He was never into festivities before meeting me. Neither were your Aunts and Uncles. I started making holidays become more festive when you were born. Eventually, they got the hang of it. “ Y/n continued, “ Why was dad's name a number? “ He interjected.

“ He never got a name like the rest of his siblings. “ She answered plainly, “ Why? “

Y/n sighed, “ His father, more specifically your grandfather was a cruel man. Still is a very cruel man, which is why you’ve never met him. Reginald made the Umbrella Academy, where he adopted your dad along with his other siblings. “ She explained, “ They endured long days of training without breaks and horrid living environments. They were treated as experiments rather than children. “

“ They all got names, but Five didn’t want one. He rejected it because it didn’t matter. Name or anything. Their numbers would always define them, and Five was the only one who understood that. “ She finished.

“ What really happened to him? I know you’ve given me vague explanations, but I think I’m ready for the real thing. “ Malachi stated, “ I’m seventeen now. “

“ I know. Your father had powers. His others siblings do as well. They all do certain things. Five could travel through space and time. “ Y/n began, “ Growing up, he always felt the need to prove himself, to be better than everyone else. “

“ So, one day, he told me he was going to time travel. It was a big argument that definitely didn’t need to happen. At the time, I was a week pregnant with you, and I didn’t know how to tell him. “ She swallowed the emotions arising after remembering Five’s glare,

“ When I told him, it was too late. He was already out the door and gone. “

Y/n walked forward and took the rings back. She placed them back on her ring finger carefully as her son watched every movement. He knew she was upset. Malachi couldn’t help but be a bit resentful towards his father. All this to make a point? It seemed far-fetched.

“ That solution seems a bit absurd. “ Malachi commented, “ That's what I was trying to tell him, but he was very prideful and stubborn. “ Y/n replied.

A knock echoed through the apartment. The room felt tense. It wasn’t right; something felt off. Malachi felt it immediately cause he stood up and began walking to the door, wanting to protect his mother if a threat was there. Secretly Diego may have given him some defense classes, but that didn’t matter.

The boy opened the door to see almost the exact same face staring back at him, “ Who are you? “ Malachi snapped.

“ More importantly, who are you? “ The man retorted.

Every hair on Y/n’s body stood up. She knew that voice, and she knew that tone. It was him. He was back. It took everything inside her not to scream or cry but seeing Malachi hold his defensive stance against his own father was worrying her.

“ Malachi. “ She called, and he turned to her as she began to walk to the door, “ I need you to go to your room and promise not to eavesdrop. “

He wanted to protest, “ Please, sweet. I’ll be okay. I promise. “

Reluctantly Malachi backed away from the door giving the man a harsh glare that made the man evidently tense. Y/n waited for Malachi to be fully retreated in his bedroom before looking at the man in front of her.

“ Well. It looks like you’ve moved on. “ Five murmured, “ No- please. It isn’t what it looked like. “ She pleaded.

Her hand took his, and he recognized the rings on her finger. The same rings Malachi had just been examining. The same rings he took months to search for to find the perfect fit for his perfect girl. Everything seemed so colorful in his greyscale world now. His wife was still his.

“ Who- Who is he? “ His voice trembled as his lingering suspicion felt more accurate than ever, “ Come in and sit. We need to talk. “ Her voice was gentle and held no malice.

Five entered the now unrecognizable apartment. It wasn’t the same as when he left. In fact, everything seemed moved out of place. Y/n walked to the stove and turned off the burner that she was using. Five had peered at the papers on the island that were math worksheets and took a seat beside them.

“ Where did you go? “ She asked, “ The future. “

“ No shit. What did it look like? “ Y/n retorted playfully, “ It’s not as I hoped. It’s an apocalypse, love. “ His voice held so much pent emotion it was almost radiating off him.

She sighed, “ Okay. We need to talk about that- “

“ I- I want to know who that kid is. “ Five interrupted, and she gave him a knowing look, “ Malachi, can you come out here. “ Y/n called, and instantly he was out of his room.

The boy stood beside his mom, still not comfortable with the unfamiliar man. This time Five got a chance to really look at the teenage boy in front of him. The defined face, the almost raven hair, the same sage green eyes. His posture was protective and territorial, obviously for his mom.

“ Y/n… “ Five began as he swallowed the tears in his throat, “ Is- Is he mine? “

She nodded, “ Five Hargreeves, I’d like you to meet your son, Malachi Hargreeves. Malachi, I’d like you to meet your father, Five. “

1K notes · View notes

the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago

Text

Wallflower

18+ ONLY

Ezra (Prospect) x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: fluff, mutual pining, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), masturbation, dirty dreams, implies age gap (reader is in 20s+/of age, just younger than Ezra)

No use of (y/n) in this one!

A/N: I know this was not one of the things I should be working on, and I procrastinated on my coursework yet again to write fan fic. I’m so in love with Ezra and I have wanted to write something for this character for a while. It’s my first time writing for him and I was so intimidated to write something about him because his manner of speaking is so unique that I’m worried I won’t do him justice! Hopefully you all enjoy!

Next thing I post will be the final part of Rest! It is currently in progress!

I will be updating my taglist form soon to include Ezra and other Pedro characters I write for so check out for that if you want to be tagged in future fics!

This is unedited and if I miss something to tag as a warning please let me know!

Tags and Requests and OPEN

“Ezra, for once can you please shut the fuck up. You’re driving me crazy,” you sigh, pulling off your helmet as you both return to your shared pod. It was a fairly long trek from the mining site back to your makeshift home and Ezra, being himself, talked the whole time- not once missing a beat.

“Not once have I ever had the pleasure of conversing with one as eloquently a sweet talker as yourself,” Ezra winks, making you roll your eyes. You weren’t actually mad at him, you could never, but one of the side effects of Ezra was limited moments of peace and quiet. In many ways, you and Ezra were very similar, and it made you really compatible partners.

But unlike Ezra, you really enjoyed quiet. Ezra, on the other hand, has had more than his fill of quiet for his lifetime and he basked in the ability to vocalize his every passing thought to you. It wasn’t often you felt the need to tell him to stop, but today had been particularly challenging and you couldn’t think of anything else besides the quiet of night and a good rest.

Ezra and you worked well because you were so much alike, but your differences also paired you two nicely. Ezra was without a doubt the biggest and most long-winded talker you had ever met and you were the best listener, opting to be the silent one in the conversation more times than not. You weren’t necessarily shy, just someone of a quieter nature. You mostly kept to yourself, by choice really, while Ezra struggled with solitude, it was one of the strengths of yours that you were able to endure it better than he could.

When you first met Ezra, he had called you wallflower, cause frankly you were one. Settled in the far corner of the pod with your notebook in hand, sketching instead of talking with the rest of the crew, Ezra made the effort to saunter over to you and made it his personal mission since day one to break you out of your shell. Made sure during mealtimes, he sat next to you, talked to you, asked you questions. Frankly, you owe the friendship you have with him now to his openness and talkative nature.

“Flower, I hope my parley on the trek back didn’t offend,” he says as he sheds off his suit.

“Not at all,” you say with a small smile, “Sometimes my meter runs out on my ability to listen. Tires me out.”

“I suppose I can understand,” Ezra replies, “I honestly seem to have the opposite problem, all my years in the Green, I never had the pleasure of someone to listen to besides my lonesome. Now that I have you, I find myself utterly unable to suppress my desire of spoken prose and I’m afraid I do tend to take advantage of your gentle nature.”

You nod, understanding him very well. It was coming up on seven months since you and Ezra had been on your own. The other three members of your crew had parted ways with you both, seeking out a better treasure.

Ezra, knowing what this planet and greed does, insisted on just doing his job and leaving, and you strongly agreed. It had been so long since the three of them went off for the buried riches, and you don’t even know if they will be returning to your pod at your scheduled time of departure in a few months’ time. Ezra told you stories about how he’s witnessed this job change people, and how he’s seen planets swallow up one’s humanity with no forgiveness. He was doubtful that any of them would return, and you were now starting to realize that his prediction since the beginning was correct.

Once your suit was off and put away, you smoothed out your hair as best you could by touch without a mirror, and headed over to the storage cubby where you both had your rations and grabbed you both a bar. You tossed one over to Ezra and he caught it effortlessly. Peeling back the wrapper of yours, you took a bite and collapsed on your cot.

“I never thought I’d miss those meals they served in the mess hall up in the station,” you comment, “I’d take a portion of those watery mashed potatoes and mystery meatloaf in a heartbeat if it meant I never had to touch one of these bars again.”

Your words made Ezra chuckle, his laugh deep and husky. You loved it. Your chest always swelled with pride just a tad when you had the ability to make him laugh or smile. More often, it was always him getting those reactions from you with his words and you liked the feeling when you were able to return the favor.

You closed your eyes, not falling asleep, just letting them rest while you chewed the rubbery ration. Ezra, tore through his always rather quickly, and he noticed that you still tried to savor yours despite your complaints. Like the taste, even though lacking and the texture terrible, was still like a reward for completing another hard day’s work. He admired that about you. You hadn’t been working this job as many years as him, as he was a few (plus a few more) years your senior. The things about this job he’s long since ignored or has gotten used to, still affected you. You still tried to taste your food, instead of scoffing it down like him and other seasoned prospectors.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” you say, breaking him out of his thoughts. He felt flushed knowing that he had been caught. It wasn’t intentional, more and more it was hard to keep his mind clear of thoughts of you.

“Sorry, flower,” he mutters, and you smirk, rendering him speechless for the first time all day.

It was undeniable that Ezra’s feelings for you were bubbling up closer and closer to the surface each passing day he spent in your company. You grounded him in ways he hadn’t realized he had needed. He needed someone to reign in his ramblings and tether him back when he lets his mind wander too deep. He needed you. There was this dependency that tied him to you now more than he ever experienced with another partner. It was friendship, sure. But he’s been friendly with partners past, and not once has he felt about them what he feels towards you.

He was a hopeless romantic, his thoughts of love and relationships were as poetic as the words he spoke. Yearning, completely head over heels, his mind constantly cluttered with scenarios of the ways he would court and win your affection if there was no inkling that lingered in his mind that was there to remind him it was a bad idea. You were much more practical than he ever hoped to be, much more wired for logic than he was. However, Ezra was blissfully unaware of how he had begun to rub off on you.

You found yourself daydreaming, caught up in your own little fantasies and escapes from reality, far more often than you had ever in your lifetime. Ezra, always the star at the center of it all. Living a life where you could stay with him somewhere more permanent, different career that didn’t require you both to float from planet to planet, chasing after prizes that weren’t actually yours- you just acted as a vessel, a taxi service for someone else’s riches.

You imagine scenarios where you would have met Ezra at a different time, or a different place. However, you often scolded yourself for allowing your stupid crush to occupy so much of your time. You were here for a job. And then you will leave and move on to your next one like always. It would be too painful to face rejection anyways, you reason. You can imagine the look on his face, thinking about the nicest way possible to reject you. That’s what you want to avoid, the pity. The niceties that will be forced after his inevitable rejection. The first friendship you’ve had the pleasure of having in years are gone just like that.

The pod was more spacious than the pod you would’ve been issued had it just been you and Ezra since the beginning. Two people sharing a pod designed for six felt much more like a livable space. More leg room, more spaces for privacy, it felt a little more like a studio apartment special wise than a glorified tent. You had even pushed a couple of the standard issue cots together and secured them tightly. You had the luxury of an extra pillow, and two of the thin mattress pads- it was like you had a full-size bed, with a beam running down the middle you did your best to cover by overlapping the mattress pads in the center. It was the most comfortable sleeping arrangement you’ve ever had on these expeditions.

Ezra and you strung a line across where both of your makeshift beds were positioned in the pod, and you hung a tarp across the line to make yourselves a privacy curtain. It was like you had your own room and he had his own as well. Ezra’s side was a little cleaner than yours, yours was a little cluttered with little mementos you find and want to bring back with you. Rocks, or small geodes… occasionally you’d bring back small plants that you double checked were nontoxic and you had them set up in makeshift planters- one of the crewmates that left abandoned an extra helmet that was damaged, and now you have an obscure green and purple plant sprouting up proudly from it.

Ezra’s side was much more standard. He had a pile of his old books, all of them weathered, looking like they’d been through hell and back. He had field books, and notebooks that held his years of accumulated knowledge of how he’s survived the Green. He ended up copying your bedding arrangement, and he agreed it was the most comfortable bed he’s had in years. He said it felt like a luxury a prospector like himself didn’t deserve. He also had a small collection of rocks that lined the ledge behind his bed. Little gifts from you, all of them.

“This one reminded me of you,” you’d say, passing him a unique rock while you struggled to keep the handful of the others you collected balanced in your hands. The grin on your face when you’d collect the little things was one of his favorite sights. When the partition that separated the beds was opened, it was a comical sight. Like a bedroom of a married couple on old television shows, where they had different beds and each side was decorated to that person’s tastes. Most of the time though, the partition was closed.

It made changing easier, the bathrooms and showers in pods no matter the occupancy size always had small, cramped bathrooms. However, it created a false sense of privacy because it did absolutely nothing in terms of suppressing noises. Ezra sometimes babbled nonsense in his sleep. The man literally unable to stop talking even when he was rendered unconscious. Most of the times it was completely incomprehensible, not even sounding like real words. Sometimes you’d hear a sentence maybe, but without knowing his dreams it was still alien to you. It was comforting to you hearing him on the other side of the partition, and knowing he was right on the other side made it easier for you to sleep.

Tonight, was no different, curled up in your bed, you were drifting off to sleep while Ezra had long fallen asleep before you. The weight of today’s expedition felt like it melted right off of your body as soon as your head hit the pillow. You were close to falling asleep, just savoring the moments of comfort before letting your mind drift when you heard Ezra say your name on the other side of the makeshift wall.

“What is it, Ezra?” you whisper, grumbling that he interrupted you right before falling asleep. He doesn’t respond, and instead you hear a low snore on the other side. He must’ve fallen back asleep, you figure, closing your eyes. They shoot open a few minutes later when he repeats your name again, but this time it’s a deep moan. His voice was husky and it sent a vibration right up the back of your spine. Your eyes widened at the realization that on the other side of the curtain, Ezra was dreaming about you. You shivered when he let out another involuntary, low groan. If you hadn’t been listening you probably wouldn’t have even heard it.

What do you do? You mind is racing with trying to figure out how to handle this situation. Do you wake him up? You also try your hardest to ignore how every small noise on the other side of the curtain is just going right to your core, making your thighs squeeze together while you keep your own arousal at bay. It was wrong of you to listen in, but you really don’t have much of a choice. You force yourself to take a few unsteady breaths to calm yourself, but it does nothing to ease you in your shocked state. Kevva, the noises he was making were like music. You often wondered what he would sound like. His voice on its own is already so perfect. But in this context? You wanted to hear nothing else.

You don’t even know how long you lay on your bed paralyzed before the temptation becomes too much and you are sliding one hand down the length of your torso and into your sleep shorts. You delicately slide your hand under your dampened underwear and your fingers instinctively find your clit. You bite your lip, trying your best to suppress the whimpers that escape your lips as you think about the man behind the partition. Your months of pining for him you finally let yourself submit to.

It had been a while. There was no privacy on the pod at any moment. When someone was using the shower, from the other room everyone could always hear the rustling around, if they were humming. It was better to just not try at all. The risk of getting caught was always too high. This was the first time you acknowledged and succumbed to your desires this entire mission. It had been so difficult to avoid, but now, you are taking advantage of the opportunity presenting itself to you. You weren’t even thinking twice, just closing your eyes and imaging the fingers inside you belonged to Ezra. You were so caught up in your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that Ezra’s side of the room had fallen silent.

Ezra sat up on his bed, His eyes fixated completely on the tarp that was the only thing separating him from you. He felt shameful, waking up from another dream about you. He woke up hard, and he felt immensely guilty. Then he heard your soft moans you were trying so hard to hold back. Now he sat on his bed, completely captivated by the noises on the other side, while he pleaded with himself to either make a move or just try to ignore it and get a few more hours of sleep. He snapped when he heard his name fall off your lips in a small whisper.

“I can feel you staring, Ezra,” he hears you say on the other side of the curtain. He smiles, probably ear to ear like a goddamn dopey teenager. He stands up and pulls the curtain back, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you laid out. You had stopped, knowing your statement would cause him to pull the curtain back, but the evidence of what you were doing still lingered- your hair sprawled out messy on the pillow, your sleepshirt haphazardly pushed up exposing the smooth skin and curves to him, the slick on your fingertips and the small wet spot on the front of your shorts. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he thought he might collapse on the floor at the sight of you.

“Flower,” he whispers breathlessly in the dark. The only light coming in was from the moonlight outside from the small window on your side you had opened. He thought you looked ethereal, a sight to behold that he was not worthy of gazing upon. He’s speechless. You can’t quite make out his facial expression in the dark and you mistake his breathless tone for discomfort.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, sitting up slightly. “I just... I heard you dreaming about me; we don’t have to bring this up again. Its just loneliness getting to me…”

He tentatively kneels down in front of your bed and you move to hide your face in the pillow so you don’t have to face him. He gently cups your face in his hand, and guides you back to face him. He actually says your name, and you might die hearing it on his lips.

“If what you say is true, and this is nothing more than a lapse in judgement, fueled by the loneliness of the Green, I swear to you I shall never as I live hold this moment against you, and you and I shall commence in the morning living like it never happened. But, if there is any chance these feelings that I have harbored for you are reciprocated, please grant me this opportunity to show you how much I am completely transfixed by you.”

You are now the one rendered speechless as you try to process the new information and the proposal Ezra has offered you. You are having difficultly allowing yourself to believe any of this or anything he says is true. Part of you was wondering if this was part of a dream and you hadn’t yet realized you were asleep. You had to reach out and touch his face, feeling his stubble under your touch, any sort of evidence to know he was physically right there.

“You’re real,” you mumble to yourself, and he chuckles. He takes the hand which you had rested on his face and he presses a kiss to your wrist.

“The number of times I have thought the same thing about you,” he mutters, moving your hand to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. “Flower, please…”

“This is more than a just a whim,” you admit, exhaling shakily, “Ezra… I love you.”

“Oh, how I’ve longed to hear those gracious words on your lips, flower,” he smiles, his gaze not breaking from your face.

You lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss, unable to take being separated from him anymore. You move your lips against his and you can feel his smile as he moves to position himself on top of you, not even needing to break the kiss. Your limbs tangle with his, and you run your hands through his tousled curls, wanting to just let your hands touch every part of him that he would let you. He rests on hand on the back of your neck, while he uses the other to keep himself from putting all of his weight on you.

“You’re bewitching,” he says softly, as he pulls away from your lips to leave a trail of kisses and bites down your neck and collar bone. “Your beauty is unmatched by anything these tired eyes have ever witnessed,” he praises, as his hands move to slide nimbly under the fabric of your shirt.

He plans to take his time, to completely worship every part of your body and vocalize in every way how beautiful you are and how much he cares for you. His moments are slow, and sensual, making you feel like complete putty in his hands. He wants to savor absolutely every part of this shared moment. For so long has he dreamed about this, and so far, everything about you- your noises, your soft skin, all so much better than he ever envisioned. His calloused hands savor every inch of you they graze, committing how every part of you feels to his memory.

His moustache and stubble leave goosebumps behind on every part of your skin he kisses. He leaves a trail of marks behind that with time will definitely darken into small bruises, evidence he can gaze upon tomorrow to remind him this all was not just a dream. In his head, he pleads with his maker that if this is a dream may he please never wake up and suspend him in this sleep state forever. A small price to pay to have you entangled in his arms.

“I love you,” he repeats over and over as he kisses down your body, pressing kisses to every inch he can see and touch, just like he’s wanted to for so long in these strenuous months. His movements are gently, and you moan softly at the sensation of his knuckles grazing your skin as he pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs, leaving you know completely bare in front of him.

“I want to spend the rest of my days between these thighs,” he mumbles, pressing kisses to your inner thighs and his hands grab them and pull them apart gently. Like a man starved, his tongue works skillfully, giving you so much attention. Your hands tangle in his hair, and he sucks on your clit, making you cry out in pleasure. He loves the reactions he can elicit from you and he loves the taste of you. You’re as touched starved as he is and he wants nothing more than to stay between your legs for hours as you moan praises, and shudder under his touch. You back arches and you can’t help but squirm at the sensations, but he holds your legs gently, keeping you in place. The first time he brings you to orgasm is by his tongue, and you can taste yourself on his lips when he finally comes up for air.

You can’t even think of anything to say to reciprocate his words, your mind is hazy and you’re overcome with the feeling. He doesn’t seem to mind, and the look on his face almost proves how proud he is to be the one who’s the cause of your current state. He’s just so wrapped up in how your body is responding to his every move, he doesn’t care you’re completely speechless. The feeling of it all was just too much to try to attempt vocalizing coherent thoughts.

When he finally pushes himself inside you, it completely takes your breath away. He makes sure to go slow, taking his time and letting you adjust. He also needs to steady himself, because the feeling of you wrapped around him is incredible. It’s perfect, and he wants to take his time, but your so tight and feel so good, and it’s been so long since he’s experienced such an intimacy.

“You’re perfect,” you moan softly at the feeling of how he stretches you.

The compliments that fall from your lips, go right to his head, inflating his ego. His kisses become more frantic, and passionate. His hands shamelessly wander the length of your body, groping at the flesh, wanting to just worship every part of you, to just touch every part of you. His rhythm is slow at first, not wanting to cause you any discomfort, but you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer and his mind is frenzied at the sensation. His movements become much more sporadic, chasing his relief as you cry out how close you are as your face rests in the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and bites on his neck, leaving your own marks on him like you were returning the favor.

“Cum inside me, Ezra,” you whisper, nibbling his ear and he groans hearing something only in his dreams manifest in the flesh. “It’s safe.”

He bites his lip and you tug gently on the ends of his hair, a moaning mess under him. The way your face contorts when you orgasm for the second time and the sensation of your release is the final sensation that triggers his own. He collapses on top of you, resting his face in the crook of your neck, whispering again how perfect you are before pulling out and rolling over to lay beside you.

You both are breathing heavily, glistening with sweat and feeling euphoric after coming down from the high. Your chests rise and fall as you both work to catch your breath before either of you speak. It’s a comfortable silence, both of you trying to recover. He looks over to you, and you match his gaze. You roll over onto your stomach and rest your head on his chest, taking a few moments before cleaning up. You rest your arm across his torso and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

Here, in the depths of this dangerous planet, you felt safe in his arms. The excruciatingly long days of physical labor, chasing after promises of riches feel fruitless now more than ever, because the best thing you ever found in the Green had been right next to you the entire time.

General Taglist:

@sassy-kassaay

@letsfly-andbe-free

212 notes · View notes

sass-and-suspenders · 4 years ago

Text

Inquiry

GIF from plutoandpersephone

Pairing: Dr. Frederick Chilton x Reader

Author’s Note: In vain I have struggled …with the formatting of this story. Did I use html? Yes. Does it show up correctly when I preview it? Yes. Will it show up correctly when it’s posted? Knowing this website, probably not. I’m posting despite the (possibly) faulty formatting because I will snap like a stale rubber band if I have to fiddle around with it for a minute longer. That said, I hope you enjoy because this was fun to write (but not to format)

Frederick Chilton’s heart was beating far too quickly for something as mundane as writing an email. Normally, he could compose a message in a matter of minutes with little concern for how the recipient would react to his autocratic demands.

This time, however, you were on the receiving end.

And Frederick deeply cared what you thought.

It would have been easier if this was for a work-related matter. As the hospital administrator, Frederick often sent you updates about policy changes or questions regarding your patients. He wrote these emails effortlessly, addressing you like any other member of his staff while ignoring how his heart fluttered whenever your name appeared in his inbox. With the small exception of inquiries about your weekend (something Frederick never did with other employees), his correspondence to you remained strictly professional.

Until now.

It had taken months, but Frederick finally worked up the nerve to ask you on a date. It was non-traditional, asking someone out via email, but Frederick considered asking over the phone or in-person too risky; the chance of rejection was already high, he didn’t need to add to it by stumbling over his words or blushing in your presence like an imbecile. An email allowed Frederick time to organize his thoughts and select the right words to convey just how much you meant to him.

Writing may have been the safest medium, but it wasn’t the fastest. Fifteen minutes had elapsed and Frederick was still struggling with the salutation: ‘My dearest’ seemed too intimate, ‘Good afternoon’ too formal, ‘Ciao’ too pretentious, ‘Ahoy’ too …nautical.

Frederick fiddled with his pen and leaned back in his chair, refusing to acknowledge that he was out of his depth. His love life was preternaturally dormant, yes, but he was a man of science, not to mention a patron of the arts -he could write a simple email. He was just overthinking it, attaching too much significance to every word as if selecting the wrong one would result in rejection.

Sighing, Frederick left his desk to fetch some alcohol, a time-honoured cure for writer’s block. As he poured the amber liquid from the decanter, Frederick reassured himself of his literary prowess: he’d written a myriad of scientific articles, many of which won awards, and there was growing interest in a manuscript he was working on about the Chesapeake Ripper.

He sat back down at his desk with bolstered confidence and a glass of brandy. The opening still eluded him but, rather than dwell on it further, Frederick used a placeholder and began to work on the body of the email.

As he wrote, Frederick likened himself to a suitor in a Jane Austen novel confessing his fervent desire to his beloved. He only hoped that his prose would convince you to give him a chance since, considering the weather in Baltimore, he wouldn’t be strutting out of a lake anytime soon.

Inspired by this little reverie, Frederick soon finished. He took another sip of brandy before looking over what he had written.

To:

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Inquiry

[Insert salutation]

Ever since we met, I have ardently admired you. Your warmth, beauty, and quick wit are just some of the ways you brighten my day whenever I am graced with your presence. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner?

I await your reply with hopeful anticipation.

Yours,

Frederick

Satisfied, Frederick turned his attention to the greeting, lightly tapping his pen against his lips as he thought. It took a few moments, but Frederick finally settled on ‘Dear’, a classic opening. After switching out the salutation placeholder for ‘Dear’ followed by your name, Frederick read over the email one last time. He took a large drink of brandy before selecting your email address and pressing send.

Contrary to his belief, the beating in his chest didn’t slow once the email was dispatched. What if you rejected him? How would he bear to see you at work every day? Worse, what if you never responded, leaving him to perpetually wonder whether it was a silent rejection or a lost email?

The familiar ping of an email notification snapped Frederick out of his self-made purgatory. He took a few deep breaths, a half-hearted attempt to quell his rapid heartbeat, as he wondered whether it was a good sign that you responded so quickly. His eyes flicked to his inbox: there, sitting atop of messages from psychiatry journals and irksome colleagues, was a reply.

Only it wasn’t from you.

Frederick’s brow furrowed. Why was a nurse replying to the email he sent you? It didn’t take long after opening the email to realize his mistake: choosing the hospital’s listserv rather than your email address, effectively sending out his declaration of love to the entire hospital. He let out an almost inaudible whimper, knowing it was too late to retract the message.

Apparently, he could control the content of the message, but not its audience.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Inquiry

Ask them out in-person, you insecure little weenie!

Frederick hastily deleted the email, but two more popped up in its place like some sort of electronic hydra. It didn't take long for the wolves to respond, and Frederick could only stare at the screen in horror as the replies began pouring in. He swore he could hear laughter in the hallway and began debating whether he should move out of the country or just the state. Depending on how widespread knowledge of his blunder became it may even be wise to leave the continent. Vienna was supposed to be nice this time of year.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Inquiry

Girl, you can do better!

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Please remove me from this list. Thanks

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

EVERYONE STOP REPLYING ALL!

Sent from my iPhone

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

‘Ardently’? Who does Chilton think he is, Mr. Darcy?

Gillian Coverly, M.D.

Psychiatry Resident, BSHCI

[email protected]

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

More like Mr. Collins, am I right? LOL

Jonas Dhavernas

Security Services | 555-3193 ext. 0315

Frederick harrumphed (he was definitely not a Mr. Collins) and made a mental note to schedule those two for the night shift for the foreseeable future. However, his indignation quickly gave way to woe as he continued to scroll through the other emails in his inbox.

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

lol desperate much

Luis Torres, PhD

Director of Forensic Psychiatry

(Tel.) 555-3193 ext. 0583 | (Cell) 555-2391 | (Fax) 555-8942

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

I’d like to remind everyone that this listserv is for work-related emails only.

Please be professional.

Ralph Chlumsky, Patient Care Manager

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

SERIOUSLY STOP SENDING EMAILS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sent from my iPhone

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

As a member of HR, I would like to remind you that you are not obligated to say yes to a date just because Dr. Chilton is your superior.

Please let me know if you would like to file a complaint against him for harassment

Sincerely,

Judith Mulrooney

Senior Human Resources Manager

(Tel.) 555-3193 ext. 3598

Nothing is impossible. The word itself says ‘I’M POSSIBLE!’ – Audrey Hepburn

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Can everyone please stop replying all? Our servers can’t handle the load and might crash if this continues.

Thanks,

Your friendly neighborhood IT Department

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Hi, can anyone give me a lift to work tomorrow? I’m in Federal Hill

To: [email protected]

From: ellen.ostrowski @bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Everyone please stop replying all! It’s not that hard, and IT said our server will crash if we keep on doing it!

Warmest regards,

Ellen Ostrowski

Administrative Assistant for Dr. Bryan Dancy

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Ellen, your “everyone stop replying all message” was also a reply all!

Ugh, I work with IDIOTS!

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Don’t get all high and mighty with me, Shawna, you also used reply all! Frankly, your use of reply all when the server is unstable is just what I’d expect from a lunch thief.

Warmest regards,

Ellen Ostrowski

Administrative Assistant for Dr. Bryan Dancy

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

FOR THE LAST TIME I DID NOT STEAL YOUR LUNCH!

A groan escaped Frederick’s lips. How could this have happened? He wasn’t a tech genius, but he kept au courant with the latest gadgets and even implemented smart technology throughout his house. Of course, there had been small mishaps in the past, like when his iPhone autocorrected his last name to ‘Chicken’ and he couldn’t stop it, but nothing of this magnitude. As much as he wanted to blame his snarky colleagues for his misery, he had only himself to blame.

His iPhone was right: he was a chicken.

Frederick was in the middle of researching jobs in Austria, the dramatic part of his brain having overpowered the rational part, when your name appeared in his inbox. His eyes flicked to the now empty glass of brandy on his right before clicking on your reply.

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

I would love to, Frederick. How about Friday?

-Your Elizabeth Bennet

P.S. Judith, no need to get HR involved

Frederick blinked, not quite believing it. Despite his cowardice, and the mortification which ensued, you’d said yes. A smile slowly spread across his face, unaffected by the multitude of emails flooding his inbox in reaction to your answer.

He was still smiling when the hospital’s servers crashed a few moments later.

Tag list: @madpanda75 @obsessionprofessional @madkingcrowley @im-like-reallythirsty @burningg-red @nikkijmorgan @misssirenlove @zoeykaytesmom @mommakat32 @thatesqcrush @southern-magnolia @evee87

#frederick chilton x reader #dr frederick chilton x reader #chilton x reader #frederick chilton #dr frederick chilton #hannibal

158 notes · View notes

alreadyblondenow · 4 years ago

Text

When December comes | Hendery

✦ Hendery x reader x Lucas ✦ Fluff, Smut, Angst, Royalty AU, Nutcracker AU ✦ 3/5 for HOLIDAY SERIES: Once Upon A December

Summary: As an adopted legitimate princess and future queen of two kingdoms, you grew up proving yourself that you deserve the role that has given to you. Nothing is simple about being an adopted princess but being arranged to marry Prince Hendery turned your life upside down.He left you, eventually. And by the time he came back to your life, you have a loving boyfriend, and Prince Hendery…. is arranged to be married to your sister now.

Word count: 8,690k

Warnings: adopted reader (if thats triggering at any point, please click away) A lot of smut, unprotected sex, mentions of sex, swearing, mentions of other idols, fingering, mentions of rough sex, heavy cheating, major character death

A/N: PURE FICTION. This is a love triangle fic but not much focused to Lucas, more on Hendery. Inspired by a bunch of royalty movies, especially princess diaries, Nutcracker (ballet), inspired by the song Satisfied from Hamilton. Love writing for Hendery so much. Check my recent post for Hendery’s thirst photos whahaha, as per Lucas character here idk I always see him as sweet and lovable and he always knows what to do. The guy has serious good leadership skills if you haven’t’ notice and i think its sexy. I’m glad this didnt reach to 10k bc u know me i hate my works being long af haha enjoy reading mwa!

For @jeongyoonohs sorry it took me so long to finish this :( But this is for you!

OPENING

Once upon a time, in a kingdom not so far away, ruled by a king and queen who can’t have a baby no matter how many times they’ve tried. The sad news spread all over the kingdom and caused chaos everywhere mainly because they were scared for the fall of their beloved kingdom.

But the king is wise. He made an alliance with the kingdom of his truest friend and together they helped each other’s kingdom by making an agreement. “I can’t have a child, but my queen and I have decided to adopt a baby girl,” the king says to his fellow king.

“And my wife is carrying a baby boy”

“It’s settled then. My adopted daughter will be arranged with your son, and someday be married to each other” They shook hands and made the agreement official by sealing it with their signatures and royal seals in front of their queens.

The kingdom that lost their trust with their king is now calmed relieved after hearing the great news of the two kingdoms having an alliance. And to fully earned their trust again, they searched far and wide for a baby girl that will soon be the future of their kingdom.

“And that baby girl is you my darling” your grandfather finishes his bedtime story to you. Caging you in his strong arms, cradling you like you’re truly related by blood. “Grow up as a fine woman and save this kingdom” he added. You embraced your grandfather back and smiled so sweetly at him, tracing his handsome features… then you remembered.

“Tell me the story about the Nutcracker prince,” you singsong to him. He doesn’t tell you the original story, but instead, he always tells you his version and it’s always better. His embrace became tighter, then he looked at his expensive watch to check how many minutes does he have left.

“Okay. I only have a few minutes left, princess” He started by introducing the Nutcracker prince to you which is actually magical because even though you’ve heard of this so many times it never gets old and you’re always excited to hear it again.

He described the prince as a soldier like him, but a younger version he says with a giggle. And that Nutcracker slash prince slash soldier is made specifically for you so that one day, the two of you can rule two kingdoms all at once. “Why do I need a prince?” you pout, and your grandfather is startled by your question.

“Well, jeez, I don’t know. I’m sure you can still be a fine queen without a prince, right?” he says while tucking you in and preparing you for bed. “But let’s just say that princesses like you need a proper man like the Nutcracker because… grandfather will not always be by your side” of course he can’t mention death to you, no, you’re too young to know about these things. So he kissed you goodnight on your forehead and promise to see you early in the morning again.

Growing up as an adopted princess was never easy because the eyes of a judging kingdom have always been against you and your family. That’s why as you grow up, you swore to yourself that you will prove them wrong and that you are the future of this kingdom. At a very young age, you made your parents proud of your gift of leadership and continue to make them proud by doing great in school.

Until one day, the queen finally got pregnant.

The kingdom became so busy about the queen’s pregnancy and literally, every person is excited about your baby sister. You were only nine years old and you were innocent as you can be so you don’t know that the attention is slowly shifting to your baby sister. You didn’t mind of course, again, you were just a kid. But as you grew older and older you can finally foresee a life behind the shadow of your baby sister. The real princess. It’s like she took everything from you… but whenever you remember that you’re adopted, it seems like she’s just taking what’s originally hers in the first place.

Today is your thirteenth birthday and you celebrated it with your grandfather in an amusement park. He is the only person left in your life who can see you as a rare gem and you’re thankful for him. As you walked around the busy park, with a few bodyguards on your sides, you and your grandfather laugh and laugh while you’re eating hotdogs on a stick.

“Your father told me that you refused to have a ball for your thirteenth birthday? Why?” he asked while enjoying his food.

“I’m not a real princess grandfather, I don’t deserve a ball. And besides, riding that scary rollercoaster is better than dancing with a bunch of princes whom I don’t know in the first place, and playing dress-up the whole night”

“Hmm. Don’t you say that you’re not a real princess, there was a Y/n before your baby sister. And the kingdom is still looking forward with you ruling us someday because you’re older than your sister and you’re still a legi-“

“timate daughter, I know, I understand grandfather thank you for reminding me” you wiped the ketchup on his lips and smiled at him, “What will I do without you? I hope that my Nutcracker prince is exactly like you. Wise and strong”

“Don’t worry about that darling, you’re still young, and I’m still here” he giggles and walks you towards that scary rollercoaster ride.

ACT 1

Things slowly change around the castle and you learned to distant yourself from your parents but not forgetting your duty as a first born and legitimate adopted daughter of the king and queen. And as you enter royal high school, you thought that your life will get uglier but no. Surprisingly, school made you feel alive and less of a princess and more like a future leader.

But most importantly, you finally met your Nutcracker. Prince Hendery.

Usually, prince and princesses meet for the first time during a royal ball, soiree, or a simple lunch at the palace’s garden grounds. But you and Prince Hendery, met in the school hallway for the first first time. It is as if your whole world slowed down, every student walked in slow motion while you and Hendery locked eyes on each other. And the best part is, he did not know that you’re the princess who’s meant to be forever with him.

At first, you don’t talk to each other and just simply exchange smiles and glances from time to time whenever you cross paths in the hallway, eating at the cafeteria, or ‘reading’ at the library. You thought it wasn’t fair that you know everything about him but he doesn’t even know what you look like.

“You know I’ve been flirting with this princess for months already, do you know her name?” Hendery whispers at his fellow prince, Xiaojun, and told him to take a look at where you’re seated. Xiaojun then scoffed at his friend and playfully slapped Hendery’s face knowing that he is completely clueless about who you are.

“I don’t know if you’re always going to be this dumb, you’re going to be a king someday. Anyway, that princess is Y/n. The Y/n” and that is all it takes to make Hendery realize that he has been flirting with his soulmate for weeks now.

From there on the prince has become bold with his gestures. Sitting with you during breaks, even flirting with you in front of your friends and his friends. Prince Hendery has the most beautiful smile you have ever seen, hair is black and soft and you bet it smells good either, he was tall but just right for your height. Not only he was perfectly handsome, but he is a gentleman too. In other words, everything about him screams prince charming.

You and prince Hendery were the talk of royal school. Everyone knew about your arrangement and the alliance of your kingdoms. You even hear people talk on the hallways that you’re literally made for each other that’s why everyone envied you.

“Let’s grow up first, okay?” Hendery says, giving you a single rose during your school’s Valentine event. A simple gesture that says there's no need to rush on being in a relationship and make everything official between the two of you but also, it was a subtle move to show everyone that you already belong to each other so there should be no competition.

You fell in love with each other from a distance, not rushing through love, taking your time, and enjoying your youth because you have a lifetime together. Although, Hendery likes reminding everyone that you’re his in the most subtle way, may it be hugging you in public, kissing your cheek before you go home, and smiling your way whenever he sees you around the school.

From freshman year until your senior year, you and Hendery waited until you’re both legal of age to finally make it official. The news was all over the TV, tabloids, articles, and magazines that you’re in love with each other. It was a cute high school sweethearts story and every day was perfect.

Senior year just started and you and Hendery decided to study together but the planned study session became a make out session, giggling and cuddling in his bed while still wearing your uniforms. The prince was looking at you, admiring your pretty face touching your features softly then suddenly he noticed that he can almost see your breast. He looked away, of course. And covered his head with one of his pillows as he groans in frustration.

“What? Why?” you asked, completely clueless. He didn’t answer you, instead, he covers your exposed skin with a small pillow. “Oh shit, I’m sorry” you apologized immediately and became shy like him too.

“It’s okay. If I’m being honest I wanted to touch you but, I knew better than that. Can we promise to be each other’s first and last?”

“You mean sex?”

“Exactly, sex”

“Only if we seal it with a kiss,” you bite back in a flirty tone, looking at his pink lips that are slowly coming closer to you. When your lips touched, you returned the kiss and swing your arms around his neck, situating him accidentally in between your legs. Skirt lifted and all. Your bodies are becoming warm in an instant and you both know you need to stop before you make wrong decisions.

“How's that for a promise? Let’s get married when we grow older and have sex every day” he bit the shell of your ear, making you giggle and laugh with him. Being this horny with each other is normal, you thought. You are both young and full of passion, and it amazes you how Hendery wanted to wait until you get married and be kings and queens.

Senior year is perfect. Every day.

Until one day, Hendery’s father died and he stopped coming to school. You hear different kinds of gossip every day. 'Is he a king now? That's why he's not coming to school?', 'School is boring for king Hendery now', 'Are they gonna be married soon?', 'Are they even ready to rule yet?'. Again, you were the talk of the nation. The headline ‘Prince Hendery left Princess Y/n’ was everywhere and you can't do anything about it. You weren’t hurt that he left everything, you were more worried because maybe he’s all alone and grieving. You wanted to ask his family but you respect their privacy.

“So he just left?” you told your grandfather everything. He just came back from his cruise around the world and you’re happy to see his visible tan lines, for sure he had a great time.

“Yep, just like that grandfather,” you walk shoulder to shoulder around the palace’s garden, looking at the flowers and harvesting some fruits.

“Well, I’m sure he had his reasons. Just stretch your patience my darling, you know what they say, love is patience” he pats your hand before picking a lemon. “Enough about the prince, I heard you are making quite an impression now. The king is beyond impressed” he was talking about your win, elected student body president. Apparently, it’s a big deal for your father, because, during his stay in royal school, he was elected as president too.

“I didn’t try too much, I think I won because of my popularity and not because of my leadership skills” you once again doubted yourself but of course, your grandfather is here to straighten you up.

“Show them you’re both. Popular and a great leader”

It was always a good talk with your grandfather, but whenever you remember that Hendery is not with you anymore it automatically makes you sad. You missed him. So much.

ACT 2

But even though you missed Hendery and it’s like he took a part of your heart and brought it with him, life goes on. You faced Senior year and showed everyone your perfect smiles like nothing is bothering you. But at night, when you’re all alone, you just can’t help but look at your pictures with Hendery on your phone and miss him.

Life goes on.

With or without your prince.

You studied day and night, kept your eyes on the prize, and busy yourself until your heart is finally healed. You waited for him of course, you waited long and hard but you can’t wait forever.

As you continue to know yourself, get involved with a lot of organizations in college, your journey has become even more thrilling when you met Lucas. He’s not royalty nor does he came from a rich family, he’s “just a man who’s brave enough to ask a princess on a date” his exact words.

Lucas is a whole new adventure to you. He’s the epitome of new things and new experiences. But your favorite thing about Lucas is, he can make you forget that you’re a princess even just for a few hours. He made you happy every day because he never forgets to tell you that being happy is the most important thing in this world. He loves you with every part of his being. And he’s ready to face your world and be with you in every step until you become queen.

“N-no I don’t want to be king. I can be your butler and still love you for all I care” he covers your naked body while you both come down from your highs. Tonight is one of those nights that you can be with Lucas without having your bodyguard. He was praising you during sex, calling you ‘princess’ or ‘my queen’ whenever he thrust and pushes you on the edge, so you asked him a stupid question if he wants to be king. “I just want to be with you, people may see me as a gold digger once the news that you have a commoner boyfriend comes out, but we both know that’s not true right?”

“Of course, not” you embraced him and apologized for the question, hiding your face on his chest. You feel his big hands caress your back to comfort you and soon plant kisses on your temple. He’s always sweet and gentle like this. If only people would see the kind of person Lucas truly is.

“But what if he comes back? What will happen to us?” he was talking about Hendery. When Lucas knew that you’re arranged to be married to Hendery, he didn’t take it lightly. He was mad but not to you. You didn’t talk for weeks and you’re both heartbroken, but Lucas realized that it's better to love you fiercely now than waste his time worrying about the future.

“I will talk to my father, don’t worry about that. Wong Yukhei don’t you trust me?” you kissed his chest to put him back in the mood and change the subject. Of course, he can’t say no to you.

After getting your degree in college, you started working for the king and queen, spearheading foundations, and knowing the kingdoms that you’re going to rule someday. Remember when you thought your parents will forget about your existence because they had your sister? Well, that didn’t happen. Your parents were proud of everything you’ve achieved and they wanted your sister to follow in your footsteps.

Slowly, you proved to them that you don’t need a king to rule this kingdom. Introducing Lucas to your parents did not go well at first but eventually, they saw that you and Lucas are happy with each other despite having different worlds.

Still, they want to keep your relationship hidden.

It’s Christmas Eve and you’re all dressed up right now, ready to shake a lot of hands and dance with a bunch of princes and dukes and god know what else but you can’t help but take care of a few things before you enjoy this night. You were signing some last minutes contracts and reading proposals when you heard a soft knock from your door, “S-sorry. Come in” you see your boyfriend dressed up in a tux, looking so handsome. He smiled at you before he enters and closed the door behind him, “well you look dashing” you put your pen down and crossed your arms.

“I’m here to pick you up your majesty, the guests are waiting downstairs and your grandfather-“

“Oh he’s here! Perfect!” you exclaimed and express your excitement upon hearing that your grandfather is here. You haven’t seen him for a very long time and you have lots of stories to tell him. “Oh shit- by the way. Lucas, uhm… Can you zip my dress, I forgot I unzip it because it was uncomfortable. Stupid ball gowns” you said, turning your back to Lucas and waiting for him to take care of your zipper. But before he zips you up, he kisses your exposed shoulders and massaged them.

“Don’t forget to have fun tonight okay? I’ll be watching you like a hawk the whole night- well actually, not you. The men that will dance with you tonight” Because Lucas has no rank or title, he can’t earn a dance with you because it’s against the conditions that your father gave.

“All done your majesty,” he says and stepped back to open the door for you.

Every Christmas Eve, throwing an extravagant ball has been your family’s tradition for centuries. It is known by royalties across the globe and this fancy Christmas party is actually part of your kingdom’s history. Different respective kings, beautiful queens, annoying princes and princesses, dukes and duchess are invited and all are here not only to have fun but also here to talk business with you.

The night goes on, dancing with a few guests before you meet and spend some time with your grandfather. You wanted to whine and complain to your assistant but she’s just doing her job so you shrugged it off. “How many more left?” you asked while waiting for the next Prince to ask to dance, “two more your majesty. Your grandfather is next after this” you smiled and thanked her, giving a bow to the next prince who’s about to dance with you. And the moment you lift your head to meet his eyes, you thought you were dreaming.

For a moment you forgot proper princess etiquette and gave Hendery a tight hug, shocking everyone at your behavior but they’re even more shocked about Hendery’s appearance. ‘The son of the dead king has finally shown himself’ you hear everyone murmur around you but you don’t care. You smiled so big seeing that handsome face again. He kissed your hand and asked you to dance which you accepted gladly, now that Hendery is back and you’re all dressed up wearing your tiara, you feel like a real princess finally meeting his prince in a storybook.

“Where have you been?” you whispered to him.

“I’m sorry I left you like that, I was devastated” he whispers back as you two dance in the middle of the ballroom with the other royalties, trying so hard to hide the excitement. While you were dancing with Hendery, you remember that handsome smile that made your knees weak, his sweet gestures to prove his feelings for you, and your promises to each other.

Is it really true that first love never dies or your love for Hendery was just too strong that it never died?

When Hendery was about to hand you over to your grandfather, your father and mother came out of nowhere with your younger sister on their side. Is it because they’re happy to see Hendery too? Or are they going to press you regarding the arranged marriage again? You cling to your grandfather as you get nervous but careful not to show it. “Ah! Hendery welcome back! How was your time in the army, good?” your father exclaims. So all this time he knew where Hendery is.

“I had a hard time your highness, but I made it back in one piece” Hendery answered and made a small joke that made you all giggle and let out a small laugh. Oh you missed him.

“Hendery, I want you to meet Y/n’s younger sister” you watch him kiss your sister’s hand, “and also your future bride to be”

You were completely taken aback by what you just heard and the words that came into your head were, ‘I thought you were mine’ but you didn’t speak your mind and listened further to what your father is saying. But as you listen more, you feel like your dress was becoming tighter and tighter in every second that you can’t breathe anymore. “She will be your queen in your kingdom, and Y/n will be an independent queen here” your father explained proudly.

“But she’s too young” you pointed at your sister but you see how your sister’s eyes are sparkling. Too late. You thought. You watch her be charmed by Hendery’s visuals, that damn smile captured your sister’s heart in an instant.

“Hendery can wait until his bride is in the right age to be married, right son?”

“Of course your highness, it’s my duty” he answered confidently.

After the unexpected talk, you excused yourself, went to your room, and breathed outside on your balcony. You can’t forget your sister’s face as she looks at the man you used to kiss and you used to love. She has no idea what controversy she will face in the future, she is so young and blinded by infatuation…Or maybe you’re being like this because you’re jealous.

“Believe me I’m just as shock as you are”

A familiar voice made your heart race and your body stiffen in no time. You turned around secretly hoped that you’re wrong, but you will never forget his voice and also how his mere presence makes your heart excited. “How did you get in here?”

You hear him scoff and stood behind you, “We used to make out a lot in your room-and mine too of course. I still remember the way to your room by heart” he looked up the stars to stop himself from looking at you. You looked so beautiful tonight that he can’t stop blushing and admiring you.

You were silent. Mainly because you don’t know what to say and you’re not sure what to feel either.

“It’s going to be fine” with all his courage he tried hugging you like how he used to when you were only teenagers. But you pushed him away and stepped away from him. Hendery felt a slight pang in his heart, he never thought that you could do that to him.

“Were not together now don’t you get it? You were gone for years Hendery, a lot has changed”

“You’re hurting me, this is not our fault we love each other what's wrong with that” he reasons out, trying to lower his voice because someone might hear him.

“Loved. Past tense. My sister likes you and you are arranged to be married to her Hendery” you close your eyes as you remember what happened again earlier.

“If I have known that life will take you away from me, I shouldn’t have wasted my time and showered you with love and affection when we were young”

With a heavy heart, your first love left you in the cold night with a confused mind.

ACT 3

To make it up with your grandfather, you spend Christmas morning with him while drinking tea by the palace garden and telling him numerous stories about Lucas…and also your talk about Hendery last night.

“Don’t do something stupid that your future self with regret” he says, stirring his coffee and chewing his bread with jam. He was talking about cheating, he didn’t tell you exactly but you get it. “Did you tell your boyfriend already about what you felt upon hearing your sister’s engagement?” You shook your head and see your grandfather get disappointed but he understands that everything that’s happening now is not easy for you.

“He’s away, for now, left first thing in the morning to go to Hong Kong for his family” you felt hopeless again.

“Oh everything will be fine. I’m sure he will understand, that man is wise. I’m rooting for him” he says like Lucas is his son.

“What- really not Hendery?” you let out a laugh because your grandfather is cute.

“Nope. Now, don’t ask me why. Figure it out yourself” he winks and continues to eat his breakfast.

As days go by without Lucas, you and Hendery continue to meet each other accidentally whenever he visits your sister. You’re a busy woman, but your mind seems to have time to think whether they kissed already, hold hands, or admitted their feelings to each other if there's any.

You saw flowers on your way to your office and you thought that maybe it's for your sister, from Hendery and you can’t help but to get envious and jealous. He used to give you flowers back when you were in high school and now… he’s doing it to your sister too.

While you were reviewing proposals, you got a phone call from your personal phone and it's Lucas which you’re very excited to answer. “Hey” you singsong, putting the phone between your ear and neck while you continue to scan through papers.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, everything okay back there?”

No. You wanted to tell him that you’ve been having these weird feelings towards Hendery. “No, baby. Everything’s fine, I’m working now… As usual- how's everyone there?”

“They miss you. They wanted you to visit next year” he says, breathing deeply before he continues. “Listen, I want to stay here for a little longer. I miss them too you know-“

“And it’s fine! Baby, I understand. You’ve done so much for me already, go and be with your family” you felt guilty for caging Lucas in your country. Even though he’s the one who wanted to stay here, still. You can feel that he’s homesick sometimes.

After working in your office, you went straight to your room and purposely skipped dinner because you knew that Hendery is still here. When you opened your door, the same flowers that you thought Hendery gave to your sister is sitting on your coffee table with a small envelope that has your name on it.

Dear Y/n,

Back when we were in high school, I gave you a single rose for Valentine's day and I told you, “Let’s grow up first”

Now that we're all grown up, and still obviously madly in love with each other, I will not hold myself back from loving you. Not anymore.

I’m sorry for leaving, please give me a chance and meet me at the back of the palace at midnight. I’ll be waiting.

Bold of him to think that you’re still madly in love with him. How can he say that?

You look at the letter as you grow weak and let yourself flop on your couch, face first and still undecided if you’re going. Frustrated and guilty, that’s what you’re feeling ring now. Frustrated because you don’t know what to follow, your heart or your mind. Guilty because your heart says you should go.

At the end of the day, you find yourself walking in the dark on your way to the back of the castle to meet Hendery. Hugging yourself as you cling more in your thin cardigan, trying to keep yourself warm as you feel your heartbeat faster by every second you come closer to the meeting spot. You see Hendery at the back of a thick tree, face illuminated because of his phone screen. “Oh you’re here. Sorry I was about to ring your phone” he admitted.

“Why am I here? What do you want?” You asked in the softest way possible. He saw that you’re shivering and invited you to go around the tree. There you see a blanket and small pillows and the lake was perfectly lit by the moon. What a beautiful view. And while you were admiring the view, you feel him place his jacket around you and motions you to sit on the ground with him.

“Please for once let’s pretend I didn’t leave you. I didn’t want my father to die, I didn’t expect our kingdom to suffer. And you’re the only good thing that’s left to me. So please”

You looked at him for a second that soon turned into minutes. You bit your lower lip and you remember that you weren’t mad at him for leaving, so why are you mad at him now?

Slowly, you accepted the warmth that he offered and sat close to him, sharing the blanket and keeping you close. “You’re here to hear me apologize sincerely” he gulps before he starts talking and explaining why he left, looking into your eyes so you know he’s telling you the truth. He told you that his father’s last will is for him to join the army and to be a soldier because in his father’s eyes he’s not yet ready to be a young king so he didn’t have a choice but to leave.

You were heartbroken while hearing his part. “I was never mad at you for leaving. I was worried about you”

He smiled sweetly at you. The kind of smile that makes your body warm and heart flutter, he pulled you close and you let him. “I know. Mother told me you were looking for me, but she can’t tell you anything. I told her I’m the one who should tell you someday. I’m sorry” he embraced you tightly, his cheeks resting on your shoulders. And right then and there everything is clear to you. You still have feelings for him.

“What are we gonna do now? My sister, Lucas” you asked him as you rake away strands of hair from his face.

“I’m not in love with your sister” he admitted without hesitation.

“But I love Lucas” there’s that guilty feeling again. You feel your heart breaking for Lucas, he doesn’t deserve being cheated on like this.

“I thought you were mine” he whispers. And even if it's a whisper the hurt was obvious from the sound of his voice. He didn’t see it coming. He didn’t think that this will be more complicated than he imagined.

“Funny. I thought the same thing when my father told us you're enggaged to my sister” you admitted and scoffed.

“Give me a chance to win you back. And if you're not coming back to me, just let me be with you for a little longer. I beg you”

There was a moment of silence and Hendery understands that you needed that silence to think, “Okay” you said. And saying ‘okay’ never felt so wrong. You cupped his face and tried to turn this moment around, “what's it like to be away from home?”

“Sad. I think of you every day and of course my family but they get to see me but you... not even a picture just our memories in my head”

Now that Hendery is a prince slash soldier, you remember the Nutcracker story your grandfather used to tell you for bedtime. That’s when you realized that you and Hendery are truly made for each other.

But you have Lucas...

As your night with Hendery continues and makes up for lost time, the emotional reunion turned to giggles and laughs when your time together has ended. He invited you over to his own house for a date since he can’t take you out like he used to, and reminded you that you gave him a chance to win you back, and thanked you.

On the next day, your mind was blanked. You can’t believe that you’re cheating on Lucas and have been refusing to answer his calls.

Days went on like this until you’re not awkward with Hendery anymore and you’re comfortable again around him. He showered you with love, you accept it wholeheartedly. Every day was sweet with Hendery even though you’re both aware of the future consequences but no one seems to care for now.

You go to his place and spend time with each other, whether talking the whole night and telling each other stories, him making you giggle and laugh with your legs on top of his thighs while you both sit on his couch enjoying a glass of wine or whenever you’re busy reading something or you brought a little work at his place and he can easily take your stress away by making you laugh.

Today, you came early and decided to cook for him and have dinner together. You don’t know but Hendery is leaning on the door frame of his kitchen with a flower in his hand, watching you chop some peppers in his kitchen. He felt like he finally won you back. Just seeing you hum while you prepare dinner makes his heart so happy. He then walked slowly and hugged you from behind, resting chin at the top of your shoulders, and showed you the flowers he has for you.

You smiled so big, dropping the knife on the chopping board and turning around to give him a kiss.

That’s your first kiss again.

He was shocked but you did it again. You realized he was trying so hard that he’s slowly being successful in winning you back and you’re actually scared of the future but he makes you happy.

“What? It’s not like we haven’t kissed before” you touched his lips and felt his embrace tightens every second. “Dinner in 30 minutes” you smiled and went back to finish chopping the peppers and finding a nice vase for the flowers he gave.

After dinner, a few glasses of wine, cheese, and grapes, you and Hendery are buzzed and talking about work as prince and princesses while enjoying the view from his couch. The lights are turned down low and you didn’t even notice at first but the mood has been making you horny even though your topic was stressful and your minds are clouded with alcohol. You don’t know what came into your head but you sat on his lap with lidded eyes, touching his body feeling his hard rocked abs through his white dress shirt.

He giggles and laughed at you. He’s so fucking handsome when he does that. “Seriously you have to stop you will embarrass yourself in the next morning,” he told you to stop but he fixed the way he sits and made sure you were comfortable on top of him. He teased you more, smiling so handsomely and making your heart flutter.

“I'm not that drunk just buzzed. Want me to prove it?” You challenged with a flirty tone that turns him on.

“Mhmm. Okay,” he tilts his head and waited for this proof you were saying.

“I still remember how we sealed our promises with a kiss. Like that day when we promised to be each other’s first and last” your fingers went up to his hair, ruffling his soft black hair and massaging his scalp.

You don’t know what happened but the mood changes and he’s avoiding your eyes. ”I’m sorry,” he says.

“No no don’t be, you’re here now make it up to me” you kissed his neck while he gets drunk even more because of your kisses. Your hands are placed on his neck like you’re telling him you still belong to each other, rolling your hips slowly to make him horny as much as you are.

“Did you have sex with anyone already?” his question made you stop what you’re doing to him and pulling away from the kiss to look at him, you thought he didn’t like what’s happening. But to your surprise his lips went to your neck, kissing you softly but full of lust. You feel his warm tongue just below your jaw and it felt great.

“Lucas, how about you?” You moaned out, shamefully.

Usually, his heart will hurt whenever you mention Lucas, but he’s the one kissing you now. So instead of getting hurt, he smirked. “A couple of girls. Life can be stressful I need an adult stress release. Any kinks?”

“Not that I know of? You?”

He stopped and looked at you to tell you the story. “Well remember when we were making out and I accidentally saw your breasts?” you nod at him, “I think I developed some kind of breast kink and I always imagine that I’m having sex with you instead of a stranger” he admitted and looked at you clothed breast right now. “That's how much I miss you” he placed a gentle kiss on your lips and went back to leaning comfortably on the couch. He got shy but he can’t stop looking at you.

To be honest your heart swells knowing that he desperately wants you like that. As quickly as you can, you untuck your blouse and removed it in front of the prince. “You can experience the real thing tonight “ you intertwine your hand with his and slowly placed it on your breast.

Breathing heavily. Both of you. You’re like teenagers who are just about to have sex for the first time.

He sat up to meet your lips and kiss you the way you deserved to be kissed, slowly you feel his hand travel to your back to unclasp your bra. You removed and fed his lust, revealing your breast to him for the first time. Hendery was so nervous that his hands are shaking when he removed strands of hair away from your face and held you on your shoulders, slowly he lowered your body on his and started kissing your collar bones and chest before he proceeds to your breast.

It was quiet and all he can hear is your moans and the sound of his wet kisses. You wanted to tell him that his lips feel great against your skin, and simply tell him to fuck you already. When his mouth finally reached your hard nipples and bit them softly, you parted your lips and your arms swings around him and push his head to your breast even more. You noticed he knows how to use his tongue, you figured he has been doing this to someone else for years and years while the whole truth is he always wanted to do it to you. The way he flicked his tongue brings you back to reality and when he sucks your nipples good your grip on his hair tightens and when that happens he bites your nipples again to make you shiver. This man is good.

He placed his hands just below your boob area to hold you still while he does whatever he wants to your breast. Sucking, pinching, bitting, and kneading. Everything felt good and your moans are good proof. With his strength, he got up from the couch and carried you to his room while you kiss with lust. He lay you down on his king-sized bed and kissed your body down while unbuttoning your pants and pulling them down until you’re only wearing your panties. Hendery then unbuttoned his dress shirt in between your spread legs, kneeling in front of you, stripping until he’s only wearing his boxers briefs. He situates his body on top of you grinding on your clothed private parts, hands all over each other’s body. He then went back to kissing your nipples and sucking them but little did you know Hendery is just distracting you while his hands are slowly coming down inside your panties.

With a great shock, you closed your eyes and parted your lips as you feel Hendery’s cold fingers slide up and down on your wet slit while his mouth is still sucking your nipples. It was a whirlwind of feelings, everything felt good, and seeing Hendery enjoy turns you on too. By the time you had your first orgasm, shaking and body so sensitive with swollen nipples, Hendery was kissing you softly and asking you in the most innocent way if you’re okay. The sound of his giggles makes you calm, the way he whispers soft praises beside your ear while his hands roam freely around your body. Truth is he’s genuinely happy right at this moment because he doesn’t need to imagine anymore.

He went back to kissing your body down until he reaches your wet core and licks it up and down for a while before he lines his cock. In between your widely spread legs, you watch Hendery lick you good and feel him moan from time to time. “Hendery” you called him, kneeling in between your legs in an instant, flashing his beautiful body to you. His skin is flawless, strong arms, perfect abs, and of course, fucking beautiful smile. Everything about him makes you weak right now that you just opened your legs, reach for hard cock, and line it to your entrance yourself. “Woah” he giggled and stopped you, “Okay calm down, I’ll fuck you good I promise” he pumped his cock in front of you and lines it immediately just how you want it and slowly enters you. He wasn’t big like Lucas but he kept his promise, he fucked you good.

So good that you asked for more as you grip his Egyptian cotton sheets and let your body be dragged with every hard thrust he give you.

So good that you asked him to go slower because you don’t want it to end yet.

So good that you asked him to cum inside you and asked for another round.

On your third orgasm, your hole is dripping with mixes of your cum and Hendery’s while the handsome prince is kissing your neck as you come down from your high. “I love you” he whispers but he was too late, you were sleeping soundly already, arms wrapped around his neck. He smiled and kissed you one last time before he pulls out and cleans you up.

He didn’t sleep that night, he just watched you sleep beside him. Let you cling to him in the middle of the night, watch you roll in his bed and expose your body, but of course, he’s quick to cover you again. And when the time comes, he wakes you with kisses on your shoulders, embracing you tightly and kissing you more.

“Wake up” you hear him whisper and you try to open your eyes the moment he told you so. You see his window, it was still dark so you closed your eyes again. “Want to watch the sunrise with me? You’re going to love it” he went down from his bed and opened his curtains so you can have a full view of the sky while you enjoy your comfort in his bed. You sat up and waited for him to join you again and stay warm together. Slowly, you see how the sky became pitch black to deep blue to light blue until you can see the pretty view outside his house. It was calming. He was holding your hand the whole time.

After watching the sunrise with him he fell asleep while holding your hand and you think he’s cute for having a tight grip even though he’s sleeping. While he was sleeping, it’s now your turn to admire his handsome features and watch him sleep before you start your day and make breakfast.

You hate to admit it but it looks like he has completely won you over.

“You look good in my dress shirt” he greets you good morning and kissed you on your temple while you set the table. You feel his hands in your hips, slowly coming down to your butt, and realized that you’re only wearing his dress shirt and thin panties. He still can’t believe that this is all happening, “are you real?” He whispers.

“Yes. Now come on, I have a meeting with the parliament. Need to go home and get ready” you eat some fruits as you scan your schedule for the day and there you see it and completely missed it.

Lucas went home last night. And you left your personal phone in your car. Fuck you said to yourself but didn’t show it to Hendery.

Leaving this morning became harder than you expected and you spent a total of 20 minutes kissing and flirting with Hendery before you finally open the door.

You went on with your day and made an excuse to Lucas as to why you didn’t pick him up at the airport last night. You were at your office with stacks and stacks of paper works and you weren’t even acting stressed when he came in because you were indeed stressed with everything.

“Oh baby, I’m really sorry” you greet him with a kiss and left everything on your desk. Lucas saw how stressed you are so he understood immediately and didn’t even bother asking. “You’re coming home to me tonight right? I missed you” he added and pouted like the big baby that he is.

“Uh-huh. Of course yes, I’m all yours” you smiled and he hugged you so tight before he leaves you to work again.

“Of course. You’re always mine” he said and kissed you goodbye.

The nights are cold for Hendery when Lucas got back because he can’t get a hold of you. No text, no call, no email. No nothing. And once again, he was heartbroken and he felt like he’s losing you again.

When he visited your sister a week since the last time he saw you, Hendery saw you with Lucas and didn’t even think of taking another glance. He had all these emotions ball up in his chest and he needed to release them.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were visiting today” your sister was surprised and invited him into her room. When she turned your back at him, he saw your figure in your sister. He’s back to imagining girls to be you, he’s back to that sick habit of his. But he can't help it. Effortlessly, he flirted with your sister, and surprisingly your sister was horny. Very horny for Hendery. One thing led to another and the next thing he knows he’s fucking her hard from behind kissing her shoulders and imagining that it’s you.

“What’s that noise” you murmur to Lucas while you were having a nap with him. Lucas giggled and whispered back, “I think Prince Hendery paid her a visit and... you know...” he was giggling and keeping you close to him as he went back to his nap, completely clueless that you’re hurting.

Everything that you and Hendery built from the past few days falls down when you came to his house and had your first fight.

ACT 4

“You didn’t call! Or texted that he’s already back you just left me hanging!”

“And that’s a good reason to fuck my sister?”

“It just happened!”

“Bullshit!” You shouted back. Louder than before, completely overpowering his shouts. With all his bravery, he got you a glass of water, came closer to you, and caressed your shoulders to keep you calm.

“I fucked up and I’m sorry, please,” he says sincerely.

Then you realized something.

“You don’t have to say sorry to me. It’s okay if you and my sister fucked because someday you will be married to each other. Were the ones cheating”

He listened to every word you said and begged you to take it back because he’s losing you again. When you finally said, “let’s end this Hendery. Do you want to have more fights like this in the future? What will you feel if I tell you that me and Lucas fucked last night-“

It was like thunder, disturbing the silence of his quiet house when he grabbed the glass of water and threw it in one corner.

“Exactly my point. We don’t belong to each other anymore. I’m sorry”

“Y/n. Please-“ he begged once again but you just repeated everything you said and left him.

The end.

It was the end of your story with Hendery.

But just as you thought that you’re done handling one heartbreak for the day, you’re wrong. Lucas called to tell you the news that your grandfather had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital.

After everything that happened on that day, you never made peace with Hendery and never talked to him again. Lucas saw you at your lowest and took care of you every day after the funeral and never left your side.

Months passed by quickly and Hendery is staying in your palace as per your sister’s request and continue to ignore each other for safety. Sometimes you greet each other for formality but never as friends and as past lovers. Lucas is not stupid to not see what’s happening.

Two months before your coronation day, you were sitting on your throne with your leg up and pouting as you’re thinking if you’re really ready to be a queen. You see Lucas enter the hall but you did not move an inch. He sat on the cold floor in front of you, reaching for your hand and kiss it.

“I miss him, I wish he could see me as a queen” tears started to fall but Lucas is quick to dry them.

“He saw you as a queen already even when you were only a little girl” you understand what he said and you’re thankful for him for not leaving you at your lowest and choosing to be with you even though he found out about you and Hendery. “So... I wanted to do this, while you’re still you. And not...the queen” he says awkwardly and pulls out a small red velvet box.

But you sit properly and stopped him from opening it and saying the question that will change your life, “how can you stay to a woman who cheats?”

“Your grandfather told me love is patient. I had a meaningful talk with him, you’re right he’s wise. He told me you love me and he said if one day you do something stupid and wrong, which turns out you did... He told me ‘check your heart if you still love her, and if you still do marry her and don’t ever let her go again’"

Tears started to fall from your eyes again. “So will you marry me Y/n. Let me be the one to dry your tears forever?” He let out an awkward laugh, nervous about the next thing that will come out of your mouth.

“Yes, of course, yes” you cup his face, and this time you’re the one to dry his tears away.

Little did you know that Hendery heard everything. And he is beyond heartbroken.

248 notes · View notes

tangledinmdzs · 4 years ago

Text

always yours - yi city mdzs characters hcs

the last of the best friend series head canons!

this is a modern version (stay tuned for a different version (v^ー°) )

»»——⍟——««

Xiao Xingchen

stepping into high school, you’ve always felt out of your depth

both from the pressure of moving to a new town and entering another stage of education in your life

it was kind of intimidating

mildly stressful

and you know it shouldn’t be much of a bother to try and fit in and find your crowd

because good things take time (as your parents have reminded you)

and that you were such a lovable person, so

who wouldn’t want to be your friend?

but it still didn’t change the fact that it was hard, nonetheless

luckily, when you’re kind of floating about in between the crowds of people and laughter in the first lunch of your first year, see an empty seat for you to snag

considering how crowded the lunch room was, you feel quite proud of yourself

so you sit down at the spot without a second thought

not even realizing that the seat in front of your empty one was occupied

you’re digging heartily, halfway through your sandwich, when you realize that someone is looking at you

and that’s when you meet Xingchen, immediately humored by your enthusiasm with food

definitely not one of your best first impressions

but it’s surely something that sticks

because aside from finding out that you both are in the same grade, you both have a plethora of classes together as well

and it becomes easy for you to find a familiar face to gravitate to in your classes

throughout the year

he’s the person that saves you a seat in the cafeteria whenever the teacher from the previous class lets you out late

you’re the person that shares your notes with him in class so that you both can be caught up

you’re each other’s first choice as partners

and it’s so so easy being friends with someone as lovely and wonderful as Xingchen

and he’s so great in everything

from his smarts

to his genuine kindness

and you know that he deserves the world

which is why

your world comes to a halting stop

when Xiao Xingchen is suddenly blinded after an accident

luckily he’s not fully blind

but his vision is heavily impaired

and you know that your high school is not the right environment for him safety and social wise

you know it is for the best that his parents are making plans to find a better accommodating school for him

but...

he’s your only, truest, friend,

and it’s only been a short while since you both have met

but you can’t imagine going through the last remaining two years high school without

and as you sit next to his hospital bed, feel his warm hand clutch yours

you think that

he feels the same

»»——⍟——««

A-Qing

you meet A-Qing as you’re helping Xiao Xingchen around the your high school, helping him to orient in an old place through a new perspective

you can’t lie and say that it’s not frustrating

but Xingchen’s always been more patient than you

even now,

when you were supposed to be helping him

it saddens you sometimes

when you can’t be of more help to him than you currently are

“i think this would be pretty useful,”

both you and Xingchen startle at the voice that talks to you both

your eyes find a young girl, probably a freshman, staring up at you

her hand holds out a small foldable stick

“it’s a white cane, it’ll help him feel out the floor better than you saying ‘watch out’ every other minute” the girl notes

“he can still see,” you try to correct, because everyone nowadays just assumes that Xingchen is fully blind... and he just accepts it like he accepts everything in his life-

“oh, i’ve never tried a cane before. i think that could be of help,” Xingchen says in his quiet voice, he turns to you though not fully enough to meet your eyes staring at him

you’ve gotten more used to his profile than his full face as of recently

“can you give it to me, y/n” Xingchen asks you,

and he’s using that voice with you

the ‘be patient, let’s try it’ voice

you manage a stiff nod at the girl, and take the white cane from her and open it from Xingchen

we you place the handle that he’s supposed to hold in his palm, Xingchen as polite as ever says,

“thank you... um...”

“A-Qing,” the girl finally introduces and then turns to you, a half smile on her face

“and you’re y/n,” the young girl parrots from what she heard before

you nod at her, a small ‘thank you’ coming from you too

‘it’s no problem. my grandma is blind so i understand you too,” A-Qing says

at that, you realize, that it would be good to befriend someone that has experience in helping visually impaired people

because you wanted to learn how to help Xingchen better

you friendship starts from Xingchen’s hardships

but as you three spend more time together,

the difficulties of his life lessen

especially with A-Qing’s support

you two become his two closest friends

and A-Qing morphs more into a little sister to you

because for all of her knowledge with Xingchen’s situation, she was still very very new to the high school situation

so she relied on your guidance (in that aspect) as much as you relied on her to help you help Xingchen

but you three come together like a sandwich

and all is well

until your third year of high school

when trouble comes in the form of a human person

»»——⍟——««

Xue Yang

trouble goes by the name of Xue Yang

your high school is relatively medium sized so you think that if you haven’t met everyone yet at least you know of most people

but

when you walk into the hallway at the sight of someone taunting Xingchen, you can’t help the way your blood boils

A-Qing is still young,

and the boy that’s flicking and pushing at Xingchen’s calm shoulder looks to be about your age, an junior

you’re about to intervene when you’re surprised at Xingchen’s quick handed grasp of the man’s hand when it lands on his chest for the third (and final time)

Xingchen holds the wrist tightly

and you remember that before, a short while ago, Xingchen used to do material arts after school

he probably never forgot his instincts, having practiced for so many years

“what do you think you’re doing?”

at the sound of your voice, the boy spares you a glance,

and then you give a short sigh under your breath

because it was Xue Yang

it was always Xue Yang

“just chatting with your boyfriend, y/n. no need to go all mama bird” Xue Yang teases and takes his hand roughly out of Xingchen’s grasp

“he’s not my boyfriend,” you correct Xue Yang, going up to Xingchen’s side to stare Xue Yang down

Xue Yang laughs, humorlessly

“you sure about that? because i think you’re probably babying him even more than his real mother,” and you really want to land a good fist to Xue Yang’s face

but Xingchen’s true testament to your friendship is that he just knows you well enough to reach a hand out and hold your wrist, hold you back from doing anything rash

because your little convo with Xue Yang had already grabbed enough of a crowd

you let Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing lead you away, though you manage to spare a long glare at Xue Yang before he fully leaves your sight

from then on, you all try to avoid Xue Yang as best as you can

and you stay closer to A-Qing and Xiao Xingchen

because it seems like you’re Xue Yang repellent

he only bothers the other two when you’re not within the vicinity

and you don’t dare think that Xue Yang is scared of you (Xue Yang isn’t scared of anything)

but it’s a little blessing that you’re grateful for

you don’t want anyone making Xingchen’s life harder than it already was

and you think that you can get through the last few months of junior year without trouble

well you hope

but one memorable time that trouble visits you

is in the turn spring

right before you you’re about to finish your junior year (practically already a senior in high school)

Xue Yang catches your arm when you’re on your way out of school after your free block

drags you to the bleachers despite your protests

you glare at him,

he stares at you, sighs

“what?” you ask

“you don’t care about anything that has to do with us do you?”

you sigh as you lean your back on the edges of the bleacher seats

“why do you put your friends before us all the time?”

“because he needs me-”

“more than i do?”

Xue Yang’s question surprises you, slightly

but you regain your composure quickly

“talk to me again when you learn that a relationship has friends and partners,

not everything in life is about you”

and that’s the final time you talk to him

»»——⍟——««

Song Lan

Song Lan comes back into your life as abruptly as he had left it

he had always been more of Xingchen’s friend than yours

you remember him being introduced to you as the quiet, barely smiling but loyal friend that Xingchen knew from way back

he and you never talked much

but he talked a lot with Xingchen

and you could tell that the both of them were close

they made each other happy

which was why his abrupt exit from high school

at the time where Xingchen needed him the most

was difficult for you to understand

though at the same time

his departure gave you a better chance to prove your friendship to Xingchen

to be the person that was there for him when it seemed like no one was

and you think that the chapter of old friendships had closed when you graduated high school

so you didn’t think you’d ever see Song Lan again

let alone, see him in your second year of college in the middle of your campus walk with Xingchen’s arm linked with yours

“y/n? why’d you stop? we’re going to be late for class”

and now, with Xingchen fully blind

you were somewhat the eyes for him when it came to new places and people

A-Qing was still in her final year of high school, already planning on following your footsteps and applying to the same college as you guys

so it was all left to you

how do you explain to XIngchen that you just saw his best friend that had left him in high school all those years ago without so much as a goodbye?

should you even let him know?

luckily, you don’t have to make the choice

when Song Lan turns and walks away immediately, not looking back

“it’s nothing, i was just startled when a squirrel ran past,” you lie to Xingchen

and continue walking on the path that you both are on

but Xingchen knows you better than yourself

and he can tell that your grip around his arm is a bit tighter than before

but he doesn’t mention anything

~~~

fate would have it that that was not the last encounter that you have with Song Lan

and the next time you do see him, you don’t let him off the hook so easily

“where did you go? how are you here now?” you ask him, when you manage to latch onto his arm at the small campus cafe

he takes his wrist out of your grasp easily

though his face looks slightly more expressive than you remember he used to be

“how’s Xingchen?” he counters with you and you huff out an exasperated laugh

“you wouldn’t need to ask me that if you had been there for us,” you find yourself saying

because you can still remember, vividly

the first few weeks of Xingchen’s blindness

his embarrassment towards you where you know he wouldn’t have been with Song Lan

and how much he missed him

“do you... do you think i can see him?” Song Lan asks, a beat after your heavy comment

you truly wonder what Xiao Xingchen would have to say to this

because you may be his best friend

but you can’t make his decisions for him

“i don’t know, why don’t you ask him,” you tell Song Lan, then tilt your head

when Song Lan turns around, he sees the person who he’s looking for right away

Xiao Xingchen is hard to miss

Song Lan stares

now it all comes down to, whether or not he would take the first step to him or not

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friendlylocalwhumper · 4 years ago

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retirement

“Adrian, how smart phones were developed. Your expert is Mrs. Langley.”

The class murmurs with jealousy as Adrian is assigned a teacher - not only is she fun and friendly, but she works in this same building. An easy assignment. Someone mutters about how he got an easy one because he’s the teacher’s nephew.

“Kristen, the politics of the nineties. You have a retired senator to interview for this one, isn’t that fun?”

The goody-two-shoes students make impressed, interested sounds, while the rest shift in their seats waiting to hear who they’ll be assigned.

“Okay, this next one will be a group of three, because the source always talks too much for one student to catch all the details.” She opens her mouth to continue, but already, kids are groaning.

“Not the one from-”

“Not the old-”

“Come on, Mrs.-”

She speaks over them, used to the complaints by now. “Sheela, Maxim, and Zach, you three have Quinn Mae. You’ll be interviewing them about-”

“The history of the magic community,” Recite the three named students in unison, one rolling their eyes, one slouching in their seat, and one clenching their jaw.

“Yes. That one’s just down the street, so I don’t want any excuses. A late assignment isn’t acceptable at this level. I want an essay from each of you. Mx. Mae will give you plenty to work with, so no copying.”

The retirement home is nice enough, all neat and studded with simple, pleasantly neutral furniture. The generic art on the walls gives an aura of charming, if manufactured peace. The deep ticking of a grandfather clock warms the lobby. A smiling lady at the front desk offers caramel candies to all who drag their feet past her.

None of it quite makes up for the walkers left lying around, or the smell of old people, or the tired sass of the caretakers walking around briskly. To a couple of teenagers, it’s the worst place in the world to be. Boring beyond measure, and the old ladies will grab you by the wrist to say something about how your hair looks, or what you’re wearing, or whether they think you’re their grandkid.

The receptionist informs the kids that the senior citizen they’re looking for is on this floor, with all the residents who don’t need supervision. “Quinn Mae is a feisty one,” She says with a fond smile. “They’re all mild-mannered, know all the right things to say, until suddenly your name tag is missing, and they’ll only give it back if you catch them with it. Smug little smile. Watch your wallets and phones, kids.”

Maxim is the only one who doesn’t smile politely at the advice and very adult-like oversharing. The three proceed into the lobby, briefly arguing about which hallway the receptionist said to go down.

“You three lost?” Says some old bag of bones on the lobby couch, wrinkly fingers wrapped around the edges of a newspaper. Thin wire-framed glasses sit low on a flat nose, hanging on for dear life. Dull white hair lies in limp curls on slender shoulders, big faded freckles spread across cheeks that have seen more sun than any other retiree that ambles past.

“No, sir,” Sheela says with bare-minimum politeness.

“Not sir,” Sasses the old person gently, folding their newspaper.

“Uh. Sorry, ma’am.”

“Not that either. Were you asking about Quinn Mae at the front desk?”

“Yeah. You know ‘em? What room’re they in?” Asks Maxim, stepping forward. His bushy eyebrows are cocked with frustration and slight amusement, as if anything the retiree says will be made fun of later.

The senior citizen gives a bare smile, a hint of a quirk to thin lips. “Room one-seven-three, young man.”

The students talk amongst themselves, eager to agree that that was the number the receptionist gave them and get away from this old person who will surely trap them in boring conversation if they linger. Off they go, down a hallway they were gravitating toward anyway, searching for room 173.

Five minutes later, they’re back, looking disgruntled. “Unless Quinn Mae’s disguised as an old lesbian couple, wrong room, old guy,” Grumbles bushy-brows.

“Not a guy,” Reminds the lobby couch-warmer. “Forgive me, you said Quinn Mae? That’ll be room one-twenty-six.”

Off they go again, the grumpy boy nudging at the girl who glances back at the retiree paging through a newspaper and pointedly not watching them go down a different hallway this time.

It’s ten minutes later, this time, that the kids return. One of the boys goes over to the front desk while Maxim and Sheela return to the old person on the couch.

“Okay. Try again, grandpa. Not one-seventy-three, not one-twenty-six. Quinn Mae. Where is Quinn Mae? We’re here from the high school, doing a school project. Old geezer probably talked about us coming, all excited, since nothing else happens here. Where’s Quinn Mae?”

Sheela’s looking at this person with white curls, wise brown eyes, and a slowly spreading, sly smile. She doesn’t join in as Maxim grills them for answers. The retiree looks over the disgruntled boy, then finally meets the girl’s eyes.

“You’re Mae, aren’t you?” She accuses.

Finally, that newspaper is folded and lowered. Quinn nods.

Just in time for them all to hear from across the lobby as the receptionist sighs and nods to the couch, informing Zach, “That’s Quinn Mae right there. They gave you the runaround, didn’t they?”

Maxim looks flustered, but Sheela speaks first. “Mr. Mae-”

“Mx. Mae, if you please.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Mx. Mae, we’re supposed to ask you about the history of the magic community.”

Quinn gives a soft, wobbly hum. They flip over the paper in their hands and run an age-softened finger over a line of text. “Young Man Found Beaten, Rescued. That’s what this article is titled. That sound odd to you?”

Sheela shakes her head. Maxim frowns.

“The article goes on to mention that the young man has magic. Mentioned, not announced as the clear reason he deserved to be beaten. When I was forty, this headline would’ve been, Warlock Found Alive, Scaring Citizens.” Approaching to listen, the other boy, Zach, winces at the word warlock. That word hasn’t been okay to use for years. “When I was your age, there wouldn’t have been a story printed in the paper about it at all.”

“Yeah. They were killed in the streets back then. No statistics on it ‘cause no one cared. We know all this,” Complains Maxim. “Times changed.”

Brown eyes scan across the teens before settling on the one who spoke. “You remind me of someone I used to know,” Replies Mae, looking wistful for a moment before they add, “Someone unintelligent. Times haven’t changed much if a person with magic is still beaten for being warlock scum, have they?”

“Language, Quinn,” Reminds one of the caregivers, pushing a cart of sheets and towels over to the service elevator.

“Oh, heavens, did I do it again? I’m sorry, Julie!” They offer her a kind, harmless smile until she’s out of sight. The teenagers catch a glimpse of the retiree rolling their eyes. “The younger ones don’t understand. I’ll forgive them for it, it’s what I fought for. The luxury to be ignorant without it costing lives.”

None of this aged-revolutionary talk impresses the kids. One of them even looked incensed by it. Quinn’s eyes, having wandered off to ponder their memories, lock onto the one who stands out from the group.

“What’s your name?”

“Maxim,” Says the one who reminds them of Major. They miss him, the old idiot. He used to cause so much trouble.

“Maxim. Do you have something you’d like to say?”

Glancing at his classmates, the young man shrugs one shoulder. “Nah. Just keep talking, we’ll get something we can use.”

“I’d love to help you all with your assignment. Your teacher informed me that you’ll fail this class if you don’t hand in an acceptable essay, each of you.” The newspaper has one corner folded back neatly that they play with slowly as they watch the three kids before them. “But I know someone who hates magic when I see them. If you want me to help someone like that to pass an advanced class, you’ll all have to do better than this. I don’t want to teach you about the history I lived through. I want each of you to study it on your own, come present what you learned to me, and show me that you have the base understanding to even believe what I’ll tell you.”

Maxim turns to leave, uninterested, ready to pay someone to write his essay for him. Zach looks anxious, mouth opening to make excuses and beg for Quinn to just tell them what they need to know to get their project done.

Sheela watches Quinn. Just stands there and waits, judging whether they’re being honest. Quinn leans back in the lobby’s couch and beams.

“You. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. The others, they have to hear it from you. I want you to retell my stories before you write anything down on paper.”

“I’d type it on my phone, no one uses paper for notes anymore,” She argues mildly.

“Fine. You’ll relay it by word of mouth, then take the notes on your phone. Do we have a deal, Miss…”

“Sheela. Yeah, that’s - we can do that. Right?”

Maxim sighs and turns back around, glaring but grumbling his agreement. Zach nods to show he accepts the terms as well.

“Wonderful,” Says Quinn, standing with all the aches of a senior citizen, but the glowing energy of someone about to do their favorite thing. “Let’s go out for a walk. We’ll start with the war and go from there.”

#whump #drabble #recovery #i had so much fun writing this!#fluff #letting quinn live to get this old is like the comfiest kindest thing i can do #characters in this verse usually die before they hit the age of 25 #but quinn makes it! and they ended up causing a lot of change in their society!#i'm proud of them they're so good #lil old quinn bullying teenagers #mine #quinn

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cno-inbminor · 4 years ago

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domus (epilogue)

a/n: alright, we’re trying this ONE more time before i give up for the week. seems like tumblr tags are having an issue! but anyways, some anons in the past asked for a sort of epilogue/bonus scenes so i wrote down a few as a birthday present to you all. thank you for all the love given over these months!! stay safe, healthy, hydrated and rested.

wc: ~2.4k // part of the domus universe

First date:

“Where are you taking me?” You ask with a grin creeping onto your face. Your eyes capture the blur of the buildings, accustomed to the warm hand laying on your thigh. The appendages squeeze your flesh in a teasing manner, causing you to look over at the man behind the steering wheel. There’s a ghost of a smirk gracing his complexion, and you imagine there’s a twinkle in his gaze behind his sunglasses.

“Do I have to remind you about what a ‘surprise’ means?” He replies and you want to smack him across the arm.

“It’s our first official date, and the only clue I have is the 2 bento boxes by my feet. Are we going on a picnic?”

“Not quite. Be patient,” Keiji playfully scolds, causing you to huff and pout for a bit.

You’re still only 70% sure when he shows off his parallel parking skills, turning the wheel with one hand and another on the back of your seat. It’s slightly concerning how much you miss his touch, but perhaps it’s somewhat resolved when he walks around the front to open your door and offer a hand. You place a wrapped bento in his free hand and grab the other one for yourself, letting him drag you for a block or two.

The surroundings become more and more familiar until you finally spot the large characters on the wall of the building. You send Keiji a curious look and he just sends you a soft smile, walking around the border, through some back alleyway that you didn’t realize existed, until you’re within the walls of your high school. The nostalgia crashes over you, almost having you feel out of place for not being in uniform. But minutes later, when Keiji whips a key out of nowhere and unlocks one of the many side entrances, leading you up the stairs, you find yourselves on the roof.

Zephyrs whip around your figures until Keiji tugs on your hand towards the direction of the wall, the slight overhang of the structure providing some shade and recluse from the sun. He sits against the concrete and dutifully unwraps the meal he so nicely made this time, and you can’t help but lean over and peck him on the cheek. It’s full of delight and unbridled affection, so much so that Keiji can’t fight the slight blush rushing to his cheeks.

You hum around the food in satisfaction (because of course, Keiji is also a decent cook, it’s not fair for someone to be so good at so many things!), munching for a few minutes before asking, “Why here of all places?”

Keiji’s eyebrows furrow somewhat before the wrinkles smooth out. “I’d always wanted to have a meal with you out here when we were still in high school – but there was never a good way or time to ask, and I didn’t want to weird you out.”

“I would’ve said yes, you know?”

“Now I do,” he chuckles. “Eat up, you’ve had a long week.”

Keiji takes you on a mini-tour of sorts, pointing out the classroom he was in and where he sat. He still remembered where Konoha’s desk was, and though Bokuto wasn’t in the same year, he could still tell you which seat was the ace’s. The two of you exchange more stories about your years here, calmly walking down the stairs until he takes you to the gym. The squeaking of sneakers and yells of teenage boys become louder and louder, but before Keiji can push back the flap of the door screen, you tug on his hand.

“Are we allowed? I feel like we’re intruding.”

“Coach knows I’m here – how else did you think I got a key?”

He brings you in before you can protest again, making sure to stay out of sight until there’s a quick water break. Only then does Keiji make his presence known, politely greeting his old coach and exchanging laughs and smiles. He makes sure to introduce you and you quickly bow, unable to contain the smile when Keiji regards you as his girlfriend. The coach makes some small indication that you seemed familiar, and then introducing Keiji to the team. Some of their eyes light up when they hear about him being the setter during the reign of Bokuto Kotarou. It’s endearing, watching your boyfriend meld back into an element of the past that he so fondly misses.

About ten minutes later, the two of you wave goodbye and leave the premises, but not before Keiji makes a cheeky suggestion to go back to his former senior classroom and make out on his old desk. You ignore the flare that ignites in your gut and attempt to hide your fluster with a roll of your eyes. Instead, he pulls you into a secluded corner and crowds over your, leaving you nowhere to run.

But when his lips meet yours and his hands grasp your waist, you can’t imagine having it any other way for a first date.

First night sleeping in bed together

It’s a bit of an accident, if you’re honest. Usually, you’re always able to make it back to your own apartment. But then after the movie was finished and you were two wine glasses in, the alcohol in combination with the shit Friday at work depleted you of all energy. Keiji, ever the doting boyfriend, picked up on your lethargy pretty quickly. He stands from the couch and merely smiles when you whine at the loss of body heat, and with little trouble, carries you bridal style to his bedroom.

“I can take the futon, mmk? He whispers as he makes room for your body, setting you down gently on his mattress. Memories stir of your impromptu visit two years ago as he tucks you in. Despite your best efforts, a wide yawn creeps past your lips as you snuggle into his pillow, letting his scent wash over you.

“Sleep with me,” you murmur, patting the empty space next to you. Keiji can’t help the flutter of his heartbeat at your invitation.

“Are you sure?”

“You’re being silly. We’re dating now, the futon is a no-no,” you sleepily chide. Keiji looks down at himself to make sure he’s wearing clothes that’s comfortable enough to sleep in, then at you for confirmation again. When you’re still wiggling your fingers on his grey sheets, he succumbs to his desires and slides underneath the layers.

Keiji lays on his side facing you, struggling to hear anything over the pounding in his ribcage. You have a hand bent up near your face and the other in front of your chest, quiet breaths leaving your body. He mimics your posture and returns the small grin you give him, brushing away the strands that look slightly displaced.

The calmness that eases into his chest is a feeling he’ll never get tired of. It’s exactly what he’s dreamed of experiencing for the last few years, the serenity in falling asleep next to the person you love. He feels incredibly lucky to be here, in this time, with you of all people. In fact, he hadn’t felt that tired earlier, but exhaustion was quickly approaching him. Before Keiji can fully pass out, he makes sure to intertwine his fingers with your free, upturned ones, squeezing slightly as a gesture of affection.

And when you tighten yours in reply, Keiji closes his eyes in peace.

When Keiji confesses just how long he’s been in love with you

Your first year dating with Keiji simply flies by, and it feels like time won’t slow down soon. Initially he wanted to take you to some fancy sushi restaurant for your anniversary, but when you showed up at his apartment the night before listing all the ways your interim manager was being completely asinine, he figured you just needed something a little more comfortable and calming the next day. So he settles for taking you to your favorite ramen restaurant, the same one he ordered from for you three years ago. It’s small yet intimate – after all, you’re more than wise to understand the significance of this establishment and what it means for the two of you.

You’re quiet on the way home, a little too quiet if Keiji is being honest. Even though you’re just looking ahead of you, there’s a faraway, pensive curtain over your gaze. You’re not holding his hand as tightly as you usually do, and Keiji’s worried that he did something wrong. Maybe he was supposed to take you somewhere nicer, pamper you like the royalty you are, buy roses, gift some jewelry—

“Do you want some ice cream, Keiji?” You ask, ripping him from his mental spiral and pointing a thumb at an ice cream stand.

“Sure,” he nods, and to his dismay, when he fishes out the correct bills, you’ve already ordered and paid.

“Don’t give me that look,” you gently scold after thanking the worker and handing him his cup. “You paid for dinner.”

“It’s our anniversary, I should be paying for everything.”

“Not because you want to?”

“I want to as well, but—”

“And I wanted to pay for the ice cream, Keiji,” you chuckle, proving your point. “I appreciate the gesture though. Come on, there’s a park over there. Let’s go sit at the bench.”

It’s easy to fall into the small talk again, though you seem to think about your answers more. There’s a weight to your words, a carefulness that seems foreign to how candid you usually are with him. The worry returns and sneaks through his veins – he wants nothing more than to just blurt it out, but that’s pushing you and he shouldn’t do that—

“Keiji, you’ll be honest with me, right? You’ll tell me the truth no matter what?” You inquire abruptly, voice timid and hesitant.

Keiji shifts his body to face you better, ready to give you his full attention. Your questions alarm him a little though. “Of course.”

“Okay,” you say, chewing your bottom lip. “Are…areyoutiredofmeyet?”

As soon as the words are rushed out, you’re looking at anything but him. It’s impossible to hide from his stare of disbelief. Things just have been going so well, you couldn’t help the insecurity that was becoming known again. Yes, you’ve healed from the events of breaking up with Kuroo – but that didn’t mean there was a big, glaring scar across the heart on your sleeve. In times like these, it sucked the light out of you and you just needed some validation.

“Look at me,” he gently prods. You’re defiant, shaking your head. But as you always do, you surrender to his touch, succumbing to the pressure that of his hand against your cheek. It’s soft in its cradle, his thumb tenderly caressing over your cheekbone.

“What makes you think that I’m getting tired of you?”

When you show signs of defiance, Keiji leans in closer until his forehead rests against yours, but remains quiet. He wants to give you time, but also let you know that an answer is imperative.

“It’s…nothing specific, really. Just some lingering fear,” you mutter and wring your hands. “It’s happened before, so I guess I wanna make sure that I don’t mess up again or something.”

He shakes his head, mentally listing all the ways he can make you feel more secure in this relationship as time goes on. Keiji figured this was going to happen at some point, but he’d rather it didn’t. The last thing he wanted you to ever think was that he didn’t love you enough – even after all these years, he only feels that his love has reached immeasurable amounts, and it still continues to grow every day.

“I’ve loved you all these years, and I feel like that at the end, we still haven’t spent enough time together. I don’t think you realize how much I want eternity with you,” he whispers, fingers moving to brush your hair away. “You’re everything I want, and I can’t imagine this with anyone else.”

A watery chuckle leaves you. “You’ve really picked up some flowery language from work, haven’t you?”

“The shoujo manga department is just down the hall, I guess I’m bound to pick up something,” he jokes back. “Doesn’t detract from the fact that I mean every word though.”

“…I’m gonna seek validation, alright? It’s inevitable.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m gonna ask you things like, ‘Do you love me?’ or ‘Are you bored of me?’, and I’ll just need a yes or no most times.”

“Well, I’m hoping that I’ll be good enough so that you won’t even have to ask. But okay, I can do that.”

You surge forward and wrap him in your arms. “Thank you, Keiji.”

“Of course. You ready to head back?”

You let him drag you up by the hand, nodding in affirmation. Things are comfortably serene for the first few minutes – Keiji notices that your eyes seem more alive and brighter, a definite contrast to what they were before. But you’re gnawing on your bottom lip again, what’s on your mind now?

“So…um, what was that thing about loving me for years?” Math might’ve not been your strong suit, but you’ve only been together for a year and years is clearly plural…

“Ah, I guess I can’t hide it anymore,” Keiji sighs, though it’s more lighthearted than anything. “I started liking you my first year of high school, and then realized I might love you sometime during my third year. Hasn’t changed since.”

“…so even in the years when I was dating Tetsurou?”

His smile morphs into something gentler and more bittersweet. “More subdued since I accepted we might never be anything more than friends, but then everything happened and you unexpectedly called me to ask if I had dinner yet…I didn’t want to sway you in your decision, but I just wanted to show how much I’ve treasured you all this time, nothing more.”

“Sorry for making you wait,” you apologize with a pout and a squeeze of his hand.

“You don’t need to apologize – I consider it more to be lucky than anything. Incredibly, ridiculously, unnervingly lucky.”

“Well, I hope we have more lucky years ahead of us.”

#akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #akaashi fluff #haikyuu fluff #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #hq #edit: OH FINALLY tags

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hecticcheer · 4 years ago

Text

Hyponatremia (unfinished T/M/A fic)

Fiveish months ago I tried to write a fic based on this scenario post I made. I’m super definitely never gonna finish it, and, it just kinda trails off at the end? Also it’s very rough. Features some American measurements in brackets that I’m too lazy to convert, if that gives you an idea. But I figured I’d post it anyway on one-slice-of-cake>no-cake principle.

As for the plot... uh. Jon has a headache; Martin tries to help, but makes it worse. For *checks notes* ~4200 words. If it has one saving grace, it’s that you can mmmmostly understand it without prior knowledge of T/M/A? Long as you know Martin’s living in the Archives to hide from an evil worm monster, you should be good.

As usual, Jon was the first person to join Martin down in the Archives that morning, sometime between seven and eight. And, no more unusually, Martin had twelve-plus hours of nervous energy to work off, and nobody to shed it on but his boss. “Morning. Sleep well? Tim said you still had some work to do when we left for the pub, but I didn’t see you when I got back so you can’t have made too late a night of it.” (Jon shook his head.) “Shame you couldn’t join us, by the way. Elena and Clarisse and them destroyed us on geography, and Sasha says you’re pretty good on maps and that. Maybe you could’ve saved us.”

“Doubt it,” said Jon. Martin waited for him to add more to that thought, but instead he just sort of stood there. Pinched one nostril shut and inhaled experimentally through the other. Trying to figure out which one was clogged, maybe? Tim said Jon’d said he had a headache; maybe it was a sinus thing. Not that this was exactly reliable intel. On pub-quiz Wednesday Tim always regaled him and Sasha with Jon’s latest excuses not to join them. They were always bad, but some were so bad Martin suspected they weren’t so much Jon’s lies as Tim’s lies about Jon’s lies. Probably not a great idea to mention this one, then. He’d stick to the first excuse Jon had allegedly given:

“Did you finish what you were working on?”

Jon closed his eyes, for a bit longer than the average blink, but not long enough to count as a proper wince. “Not even close.”

“Oh. What… was it?”

“Cabinet of statements from 2003. Or at least, nominally from 2003, though by my count less than a third of them actually date from that year.”

“Yikes. Need any help? Extra pair of hands, or.”

“Not right now.”

“2003,” Martin mused—“are you still looking for Mr. McKenzie’s statement?”

A short, but hearty sigh. Enunciated, practically. He didn’t open his mouth until afterward, but Martin could see his nostrils flare around it. “No. Three days ago, when I started to look through the cabinets marked 2003, I was looking for Mr. McKenzie’s statement. Now I just want to find out which statements in there I can’t send straight to the discredited section.”

Jon stood in the open doorway to his office by this point, hand on the knob as if to remind Martin of his eagerness to close it behind him. Even so Martin tried to peer past him into the office, looking for a discard pile of statements he might offer to shuttle away himself. This was pretty hard to do surreptitiously, though. He’d hoped his eyes would land at once on the tallest pile, at which time he could point to it and say, Are those the discredited ones, then? But from his vantage point all the piles on Jon’s desk seemed taller than usual.

“Right,” Martin said instead; “good luck.” He smiled weakly and returned his gaze to Jon, meaning to restore eye contact before he remembered how seldom Jon looked at people’s faces anyway. At this moment both his eyes were covered by the hand not on the doorknob. It would’ve been weird, he figured, to just duck out now while Jon couldn’t even see him, so Martin told himself to wait until he opened his eyes and only then back off.

But then Jon just stayed like that, for ages, with his fingers on one temple and his thumb on the other, blocking all possibility of sight. Eventually Martin felt like he had no choice but to say, “Are you alright?—or, I mean, how’s your head, by the way? Tim said….”

“It’s fine.”

“Ssssso it—doesn’t still hurt, then?”

“I’m fine, Martin. Thank you,” Jon said, but in one of the least thankful-sounding tones of voice he had. And then he closed the door, without even waiting for Martin to back up.

—

“Thought you might like coffee this morning instead of tea. It’s got more caffeine, and, that’s supposed to help, right? Plus I remembered what you said on your birthday about tea having tannins just like wine does. Of course, for all I know coffee might too—”

“It does.”

“Oh. Well… maybe the caffeine’ll cancel it out and you’ll break even? Or, I don’t know, maybe if you already have a headache they can’t trigger one.”

Jon’s answering Hm sounded pessimistic. Sure enough, as soon as Martin had finished his sentence he said, “I’m not that lucky.”

“Probably not,” Martin agreed with a laugh. “Still, least it’s hydration. Though caffeine’s a diuretic, so if I recall correctly you only get about half, volume-wise. That mug’s about… [twelve ounces,] I’d say? So it probably counts as about [six toward your sixty-four].”

“Yes, yes,” replied Jon, picking up his bottle of water and shaking it. When he set it down again, one look confirmed what Martin had suspected from the sound it made—it was nearly empty.

“Oh hey, look at that! Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job even without…” he trailed off, realizing too late that the most logical end to that sentence was my help, and that that was a pretty pompous way to refer to a coffee he was pretty sure Jon didn’t even want. So instead he said, “I’ll go refill that for you.” And before Jon could look up Martin scurried off to the break room with it.

The water dispenser should’ve been changed yesterday. When the water got this low it took ages to fill even a mug, much less a tall bottle like this one. It startled as a trickle, and by about halfway up the bottle slowed to a glorified drip. In his mind he pleaded with the water spout not to make so much noise; promised it he’d put in a new one as soon as he’d returned Jon’s water to him, mouthed encouragements to it. Not much farther, just to the top of the M, come on, you can do it. (The bottle was an Institute freebie, with Magnus Institute inscribed on it in black-bordered green letters. Martin had one just like it somewhere in his flat. Worm bait now, he supposed.)

By the time he brought it back Jon’s eyes were on the statement in his hands. Skimming, by the looks of it, rather than either actually reading or pretending to.

Martin endeavored to set down his refilled water audibly, but not painfully loudly. But Jon’s answering “Thank you” took him so much by surprise that at the last moment his wrist jerked and the bottle fell over.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry.” It had a lid, so, not an actual disaster? Jon did snarl at him though, or at least at the noise. His hands flew up as if to cover his ears, but he seemed to reject that idea halfway through. Just closed his fists around thin air, then leant his temple on one of them and sighed through his nose. “Sorry,” Martin said again. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Jon’s emphatic blink seemed to stand in for a nod.

“Anyway, here’s a further [sixteen ounces] for you, looks like, or thereabouts,” ventured Martin, patting the side of the water bottle with one hand while holding it down with the other so it definitely wouldn’t topple again. “I’ll just leave you to it then.”

“Mm.”

“Good luck.”

—

After his stunt with the water bottle Martin had too much distrusted himself to risk making another big noise with the door, so he’d left it with its tongue sticking out rather than latching it. This meant he made almost no sound when he entered again. The first thing he noticed was that the water in Jon’s bottle still reached the top of the M. It still sat in the same place, too—not out of Jon’s reach but far enough away (Martin had told himself at the time) not to seem an imposition on his space. Almost definitely not where one would set it if one intended to pick it up again soon. His coffee seemed to have fared a bit better though. Half empty, one might say. Optimistically.

The second thing he noticed was Jon himself, who sat with his elbows on the desk, his chin on the heels of his palms, and his fingers arranged around his eyes like fence posts. Like a child peeking out at something they’re too scared to look at directly—except that his eyes were closed.

Martin snuck back to the other side of the door and knocked on it, gently. “Hey, uh, Jon?”

He didn’t look up, and opened his eyes for only a second before shutting them again. But he did drop his hands, threaded his fingers together and set them on the table, and bit his lip. “What, Martin.”

“Er—well, I know you said you’d given up looking for Marcus McKenzie’s statement, but I just realized I never asked if you’d thought to look in the discredited section. I mean, from what he said on the phone it didn’t sound like he took his dad’s statement all that seriously, so, maybe Gertrude put it in there, as, like, corroborating evidence that it wasn’t paranormal, and McKenzie senior’s statement just got misfiled?”

“Martin, I invented the discredited section.”

“Oh.”

“Anything else you wanted to say?”

“Oh, uh, nothing important. Just wondered if you’d like me to take that mug away.”

Instead of responding verbally, Jon picked up the mug and made what seemed a valiant effort to drink a little more of the coffee inside it. From what Martin could tell, he barely managed not to grimace in disgust.

“Do you like coffee? I’m not a big fan of it either, to be honest. Oh, well. If you can’t force that down you’ve still got plenty of water there, I see. Besides, it’ll wash out the taste.” (With an actual heh heh, which came out more like a small dog panting than like human laughter.)

Dramatic, snarly sigh from Jon. “Think I’ll pass. It seems to make it worse, if anything.”

“Oh. Sorry about that; must be those pesky tannins. I’ll just take your cup now then.”

But Jon only tightened his grip on it. “Water, I meant. The coffee’s fine. Not exactly my favorite beverage in the world, but, you were right. It’s a good idea.”

“Oh. Thanks, I’m glad you.” Martin smiled, then frowned. “Wait, water makes it worse?”

“Seems to.”

“Really? Are you sure it wasn’t just—too cold, or something.”

His laugh sounded bitter, hollow—theatrically so, in fact. A perfect Ha ha ha, except he didn’t say those words, didn’t enunciate them like Sasha sometimes did when Tim made a bad joke. He just made the exact sounds they were invented to transcribe. “No, Martin. I haven’t just been giving myself a brain freeze every time I.”

“…Right, of course not. Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” For a few silent seconds Martin picked at a notch in his thumbnail, carved there earlier this morning by a stubborn paperclip. Part of him wanted to tear the nail off and have done, but he knew it would bleed if he did. Nothing to clip it with in the Archives, obviously. “Are you sure you won’t try again? This water’s quite tepid, actually, since I got it literally from the bottom of the barrel—”

“Martin—”

“Sorry, sorry. Just thought it was worth—”

“Don’t you have something better to do.”

“Er… no, actually. Pretty much finished with everything, at the momen…t. Though if you’d like to give me another assignment I’d be happy to—yeah. Do that, for you. Or I mean, for the sake of the Archives; I don’t mean it’d just be, like, busy work. Not accusing you of that or anything.”

“Are you comfortable leaving the Archives?”

For half a second Martin heard this as a hint—an offer? a threat?—that Jon meant to have him transferred to another department. Then he wondered if Jon was hinting it was time Martin found somewhere else to live. “What, like, permanently?”

“No—just as long as it takes to track down and interview Georgie Barker about her role in the statement Ms. King gave us.”

“Oh. Yeah, I think so, uh. Thank you for asking? I mean, Prentiss said she was done with me, right. At least, me personally. And she already knows I’m here, so it’s not like.”

Jon replied shortly, “Yes.”

“I’d like to listen to Ms. King’s statement first, though, if that’s alright. What’d you say it was about? The Cambridge Military Hospital?”

Another short, emphatic, nose-directed sigh. Couldn’t be too stuffed-up then, Martin guessed. “Technically, yes, though Ms. King insists the building itself had nothing to do with it.”

“Huh. What was it about, then?”

“She alleges that a woman she hired to help film one of her ghost stories peeled the skin off her arm.”

“Oh my god! I mean, did you—was she okay? Did she show you her arm? Did it seem to have—you know—skin?”

“Her own arm, not Ms. King’s.”

“Oh.” Martin sighed for himself now, though with relief rather than exasperation. Managed a tiny laugh, as well. “Okay, well, that’s. Creepy as hell, but, not nearly as bad as.”

“Mm. Nor nearly as verifiable as your version.”

“T…rue, no, I guess not. Anyway do you have the tape? I’d like to listen myself, if that’s.”

Jon pointed to a small stack of tapes on the bookshelf to Martin’s right. Sure enough, the top one had M. King, 0161704 sharpied across the label on its side. “Ah! Found it. Thanks.” He had a tape player squirreled away already; on another day he might’ve pretended otherwise, but for the moment he was too relieved not to have to make a pest of himself by asking to borrow one to worry whether the absence of that request might make Jon suspicious.

Besides, Jon seemed pretty… absorbed in himself, this morning. By the time Martin turned to face him again one of Jon’s hands had crept back up to his face, where its fingers now seemed to comb the hairs of his left eyebrow. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Jon do that before, plus doubted the hairs in question needed his help to lie flat. Jon’s eyebrows had always struck him as quite neat. Plus Martin had tried that with his own eyebrows plenty of times before the mirror in his youth, and knew it didn’t work very well even if you licked your finger—which Martin assumed Jon hadn’t. So he figured he should file this behavior in the same box as the earlier fist-clenching-to-avoid-covering-ears thing. As, like, headache-soothing for people who don’t want to look weak. Or unprofessional, or something to that effect.

This gave him a sense of foreboding when he thought too hard about it. But Martin needed so badly to keep this job, now that his flat wasn’t safe anymore. It seemed wiser not to look directly at abstract threats like that. If he could make Jon feel better then it wouldn’t matter, right? Or at least could be put off til next time.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Don’t recall saying I was,” Jon muttered.

Martin winced. He had said he was alright—Martin was certain. When he’d first come in that morning, he’d said he was fine when Martin asked, and then he’d closed the door. Didn’t seem worth correcting him over it, though. So Martin just said, “Try to drink something while I’m gone, yeah? Kool-Aid, for all I care, just. You really don’t look like you’re feeling all that well. And any kind of drink other than alcohol should—oh.”

He looked up, hearing Jon swallow what sounded like a lot more than the tiny sip of coffee he’d managed before.

“Well. Great. Thank you for obliging me.”

Jon continued to gulp down water, while staring right at Martin. He paused in swallowing to breathe, but even then did not remove the mouth of the bottle from his own mouth. When he tried to resume drinking it made him cough instead, and even then he didn’t set it down.

“O-okay, well, I’m sure that’s plenty, don’t—?” Hurt yourself, Martin wanted to say, but feared that would sound patronizing. The bottle was more than half empty now. Jon paused for air again. “For god’s sake, Jon, stop—that looks like it hurts—you don’t have to—?”

At last he slammed the empty bottle on his desk—more loudly than could possibly be comfortable for a man with a headache. Leant his elbow on the table, and between pants huffed a laugh and said, “Care to refill it for me?”

On a sort of autopilot Martin chirped, “Uh—sure! No problem I’ll just,” and rushed off with it to the break room. This refill took much less time, since he’d remembered to change out the thingy. But it still took long enough that by the time he got back he worried, “You’re not going to chug this one too, are you?”

“No,” said Jon, eyes and hands both busy now with a statement hitherto hidden by his elbow. He did not reach out a hand to take the bottle from Martin.

“Okay, I’ll just. Leave this here then. See you after the, uh. Yeah.”

—

And lo, it was as he had feared. Chugging [sixteen ounces] of water did indeed make his headache worse. By ten it seemed to count turning the page of a statement as an exertion worth pounding over. True, by lunch time it seemed to have backed off a bit—until he sat back down at his desk with his fork and plate. On his way to the microwave he’d thought he must be on the mend: his head throbbed a little harder than when he’d been seated, but not so much he’d have noticed the difference had he not set out to pay attention to it. Some food, maybe an ibuprofen or two and he’d be fixed, he’d told himself.

Once he got to the break room, though, he noticed something else odd. His limbs were weak. His knees seemed made of jelly, and wobbled beneath him every time he shifted his weight; his arms were steady enough, but when he set down the pizza box on the counter after retrieving it from the fridge he felt a surge of relief, which he hardly understood until he’d transferred a slice from the no-onion half onto a plate and picked up the latter to put it in the microwave. Even these tiny movements made his arms, neck and chest ache like they do when you hold your breath too long. He leant his elbows against the counter and gulped down air until his mouth felt so dry he couldn’t bear to keep it open. Wondered if he should sit down; he felt a bit dizzy. But he had less than 30 seconds left to wait for the microwave, which he figured couldn’t hurt him.

It didn’t, but the walk back to his office did a bit. Moving his legs’ sluggish muscles made his whole body ache—again like it does when you run too long and have to stop for breath. He figured it must be in a similar spirit that his head waited til he’d sat down to unleash its onslaught. Before leaving his desk he’d grown used to thinking of his heart beat’s faint buzzy shocks like the second hand on a clock, criticizing him under its breath from where it watched behind his eyes. This was… a great deal worse than that. He tried to time the beats against the ticking of his wrist watch, but couldn’t seem to focus on that and breathe at the same time. They were fast, though, at least at first. His heart rate did seem to calm down fairly quickly, but he could swear it never got all the way back down to its earlier rate—at least not before his attention shifted from the speed to just. How much it hurt.

Was that what made his slice of pizza so tasteless? When he cut his first bite, on its way to his mouth he thought he caught a whiff of the red onions with which its tip must have shared space, and only his horror of Tim asking What was wrong with that part, then? when he brought the otherwise-empty plate back to the sink stopped him from scraping that bite off his fork and trying again higher up the slice. But when he finally forced himself to eat it? Nothing. No onion taste, thank god, but everything else too seemed… muted. Hardly worth how the exertion of chewing made his head hammer after each swallow. Jon knew the taste of food was hardly the point of eating it, but? In the absence of everything he normally liked about cheese and meat and bread and vegetables, the fact the cheese squelched in his mouth made him wish he’d never left his bed. The way leaves of soggy spinach flapped over the sides of even his neatly-cut rectangles. His stomach tightened in revulsion, so that in his throat he could feel each swallowed lump shifting from foot to foot, waiting to be let in. Not to mention how the effort of cutting it shook the whole damn table.

He told himself he could skip the crust. If Tim asked about it, Jon’d just tell him it’d gone stale. Just get through the… other part, the crumb, the filling. Between throbs the ache in his tired jaw merged with the one behind his eyes. Why didn’t it always hurt to chew? Did the pleasure of tasting food give you enough endorphins to cancel it out? Would everyone have this problem all the time if we had to live on, say, dry toast?

Right, okay, close enough. Ibuprofen now. No, you idiot—other drawer. In the fantasy versions he’d rehearsed of this moment he clapped four of them from his palm into his mouth at once, and swallowed them dry. But his blister pack turned out to have only three left. Which was fine! Just fine. Better, probably, after so little lunch.

Also, dry-swallowing was kind of a misnomer? He’d never really thought about it before, but. Turned out it would only work if your so-called “dry” mouth had spit in it. As it was the pills stuck to his tongue, leaving streaks of spicy burnt-orange when he tried to claw them back toward his throat with his teeth. When they got far back enough on his tongue he had to concentrate not to gag, and they still stuck—even when he turned his nose to face the ceiling and thumped on his chin with his hand (which, ouch)—at that point he gave up and unscrewed his water. Allowed as little of it in his mouth as would let him swallow these damn things, and wash their stains off his tongue. And it still made his head throb harder.

Jon imagined shooting whoever next told him to stay hydrated. He derived little joy from the fantasy, though; couldn’t not think of the loud, sharp noise it would make.

Returning the plate could wait, he decided; not like it would attract worms in the thirty minutes it’d take for the pills to kick in. Meanwhile he’d just… keep sorting. He took a statement off the top of the pile in front of him and blinked at it over and over, until his vision resolved into a shape he told himself hurt marginally less than the others. 9720406, Nathaniel Thorp. Christ, 1972? “Misfiled” was practically an understatement for that one. And here he’d thought Gertrude had kept that part of the century in relative good order. Still, he stuck it on the all other years pile and reached for another. 0130111, David Laylow. Nope—still not 2003. 0002610, Jennifer Wong. 0910203, Lisa Jones. 0081711, Donald Gately. 0100912, Lawrence Mortimer. 0152101, Uzma Rashid. Ha!—0030707, Seymour… Backsides. Wait a minute. Hadn’t he seen a prank statement with that name before lunch? He grabbed a stack off the 2003 pile and found… Rashid, Mortimer, Gately. Had he switched the—? Look in the unsorted pile again, he told himself. Under where he’d found Mr. Backsides’ tale he uncovered statements 0031212, 0032504, 0031809, and so on. Great. After Seymour he must’ve got mixed up. There was no more unsorted pile—not on his desk, anyway. He’d have to pull some more out of the… open filing cabinet which stood across the room with its tongue stuck out at him. Yeah, well, that could wait too. For now he’d just. Check his email.

#a shifty tract #to be clear hyponatremia is uh. too little sodium in blood. it is the 'eat more salt' ailment #it's very common w/ dehydration so any diuretic (i.e. med that makes you pee more) can cause it?#my plan here was to have martin complain to tim and sasha that he Broke Jon and when he mentions jon said water made it worse ('god why #('didn't i just believe him?') tim as the only Sports Guy in the archives recognizes ah-ha! electrolytes!#and either get him himself or tell martin to get him some trail mix and sports drink #and have jon drag his feet since every other suggestion his coworkers have given him over the last few days of headache &c. has been Garbage #but eventually cave out of pure frustration--enjoy the taste of salty raisin and stale pretzel so much he grins til his face hurts--#and figure out it must be 'cause he switched adhd meds recently #(...tho apparently it's rare for them to have this effect BUT THEY CAN! i have two data points)#nonsearchable tma tag

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silhouettica · 4 years ago

Photo

Disclaimer: image shown above is not mine; source is linked to the image.

____________

It’s been a long time since I’ve written an anime review, but this one is too well-deserved to pass up.

I tend to have a love-hate relationship with the sports-shounen genre in the manga industry. On one hand, good quality stories have great characters, undeniably well-drawn images, and okay storylines... but--- technique-wise, there was just too much suspension-of-disbelief required to go on reading.

Take for instance, Kuroko no Basuke and the legendary Phantom Sixth Man who is capable of magically disappearing in court; or, there’s Prince of Tennis and the gravity-defying non-arc path that their tennis balls traverse -- OR do not traverse, as do those which avoid the Tezuka zone. Basically, most popular and long-running sports genre mangas have a tendency to go borderline fantasy in many elements, or otherwise tend to sport some rarely-seen-in-a-thousand-years genius to spice up the story, which is understandably unrealistic (after all, this is fiction we’re reading). But perhaps, after almost two decades of watching anime and reading manga, my personal preference is now leaning towards the comfort provided by the slice-of-life genre, and against typical expectations, there’s that lingering desire to taste the slice of life in a sports manga...

Enter: Haikyuu.

Haikyuu was already a famous anime when I heard that it revolved around volleyball. When I heard that, the first question that occurred to me was, How much plot can be formed around such a sport as volleyball? Don’t get me wrong -- I’ve only ever been involved in two fields of sports: one is track and field, and the other is volleyball, so I at least like the sport. But since we’re used to being exposed to mangas centering around basketball or some martial arts, a story revolving around volleyball was foreign territory. But it was already famous, and with fame comes expectations --- thus, for fear of suffering from failed expectations, I deferred, or more like skipped out on Haikyuu.

But, well, with FB Watch capable of being a demonic source of temptation, Haikyuu showed up in my Watch Feed, and poof! - I was hooked. Manga was finished in less than a few weeks, and episodes repeatedly watched on FB (still ongoing, haha). In my personal list of top mangas, it has far surpassed even One Piece. It’s that good.

What’s so attractive about Haikyuu is that above being refreshing character and plot-wise, it was also obviously painstakingly created with so much attention to detail, in terms of the technical aspects of volleyball. I mean, just watch the videos contrasting Haikyuu to real-life volleyball matches - there’s almost no difference to be seen. The accuracy is admirable. In this regard, suspension of disbelief is very minimized --- well, except for the repeated overtime in matches; but if they stuck to the usual 15 or 25pt matches, we wouldn’t have much screentime to make a viable story, now, would we? So it’s an understandable adjustment to accommodate for the sake of cultivating the story.

Beyond this, Haikyuu boasts of a roster of interesting and complex characters littered throughout the storyline. Honestly, I can’t hate any single one of them. Your heart would go out to every character in every team. It’s amazing how the mangaka depicted each character differently, with all their bias and flaws, besides their refreshingly non-OP strengths, all combined to portray each individual’s humanity. And gah, when they’re made to mix together - the rapport between and amongst such variety of personalities is just fascinating to behold. And then comes character development - whoosh. How one person’s evolution affects the quality of a team’s mixture is another feast to behold. So much respect for this mangaka for bringing to life such abundance of quality complex characters. Seriously. Shounen x Sports x Slice of life + epic ups and downs + epic ending arc (MOST SATISFYING ENDING TO SPORTS GENRE EVER).

This is plain epic.

At first glance, any reader/follower would be drawn to the main characters - there’s Kageyama, Hinata, Ushijima, Oikawa, etc., all those OP-level players (or at least potentially so, for Hinata).

Well, Hinata is the main character, as the story is dominantly affected by his actions and skill development. Watching his character growth is a treat, in and of itself. Seriously. Hinata may be boke at times, but isn’t really stupid. He’s just less-skilled than others (understandably so, given his lack of experience), but he more than makes up for it with his bottomless enthusiasm. And that innocence... Kawaii~. His love for the game is just contagious. Freakin’ want to buy a volleyball just to start playing on my own.

Kageyama may be called a genius setter, but really, he’s far from being the complete package. And he’s one of the more complex characters that really steals your heart. Like Hinata, he just overflows with love for the game, but his innocence is of a different level. After being shown his blindspot, he tempers his snobbishness, and literally BEGS for help --- I mean, look how he bows to Tsukishima for help in acads, or towards his senior Oikawa, in order to improve in volleyball. He’s mostly snobbish only towards those who don’t do their best (besides being just plain socially awkward). But he’s a very good kouhai, and it’s especially touching how he and Hinata paved the way for Asahi’s attack against Date Tech. I appreciate that he’s not so OP-level that he didn’t need anyone to improve -- he was helped by their coach, he was helped by Oikawa, there’s his senpais guiding him somewhat, etc. He’s not the Echizen-type who can learn on his own. He has so many blindspots, but he listens and asks for help once he’s shown that they exist.

There are a wealth of other characters worth mentioning, but recently, when I think of relating to the characters, what I easiest to resonate with are Yamaguchi and Ennoshita. Tsukki is another runner-up, being one who’s overly phlegmatic, with a defeating inferiority complex, but with a taste for vengeance... Bokuto’s answer to his existential question on why they play volleyball was very insigtful --- you don’t enjoy volleyball probably because you suck in it. HAHAHA. Isn’t that true for all of us - how we superficially hate some things when actually it’s because we just aren’t good at them. But at the very least, Tsukishimi Kei has so many qualities that puts him above others, it’s hard to compare oneself to him. On the other hand, there’s Yamaguchi the one-trick pony and Ennoshita the returning quitter. Sometimes I think of quitting when the academic “training” gets tough, but coming to think of Yama, I’m reminded that this is my one sword. The only reason he enters the court is as a pinch server - apart from that, there’s nothing else. So if he gets cold feet and settles for an easy serve, he forfeits the right to enter the court. If he lets go of the jump float serve, he has nothing else. Similarly, there’s Ennoshita who actually quit the team, but returned because the comfort became uncomfortable... I dunno if I’m the only one who’se quit in at least one point of my life, and took an easy way out or through something, but Ennoshita’s lesson is true for all of us - we’d regret quitting. Quitting is a no-go.

Anyway, I can’t describe all the other characters, else, this would be too long. But it’s just so amazing how Haruichi Furudate was able to create so many complex characters, each with their own backstories (okay, unrealistically, no sob stories here since this isn’t a drama) and no antagonist to hate, but the story was was just so complete and wholesome. I mean, take the Nekoma team, for one - they’re supposed to be Karasuno’s biggest rival, but they’re the ones who gave them a fighting chance to improve. Sportsmanship really dwells high on this one. Bokutooo, that once-spoiled ace... Oikawa, that snobbish great king who only recognized Kageyama as his junior when talking to Ushijima... The side characters who made up each respective team’s coaching, managerial, and cheer squad... There’s just so many personalities to admire and be thankful to the author for.

Haikyuu is truly a story about volleyball --- it’s not a story about inter-high, it’s not a story about high school; rather it’s a story that explores the different aspects surrounding volleyball - from childhood, as between friends, to high school and inter-high competitions, to the coaches and managers and trainings behind the scenes, to (SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!) in-house vs. beach volleyball, to a professional career and international competitions. It’s really volleyball in different seasons of lives of a variety of people.

One poignant fact is that for most people, playing sports would be limited to high school. After inter-high, teammates would separate and a new team will be formed, year after year. That’s why it’s so precious how (SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!) the manga showed the fanatic-highchoolers-turned-professional players being watched by their previous volleyball teammates and competitiors --- something I’ve never seen in other sports mangas (which mostly had to do with players getting some injury, going to rehab and recuperating, and so). Previous teammates faced each other as competition, and previous rivals became comrades. It’s just. so. epic.

Anyway, thank you, Haruichi Furudate-san. May the anime remain top-notch in quality. Viva Haikyuu!!

#Haikyuu #volleyball #manga #annime

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cutie1365 · 4 years ago

Text

Hello Detective Chapter 70

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: How have I written 70 parts of this???? Please keep the love coming, it helps me write. Literally even just a comment saying hi helps. Shout out to @dancingwithlamas this ones for you doll :)

Any and all feedback is appreciated and encouraged!

Masterlist in bio, taglist in reblog.

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“Mr. Magnussen, please state your full name for the record.” Lady Smallwood said, beginning the meeting, if you could call it that. Interrogation was more like it, not that anyone would actually stand up to him. It was a formality.

You looked around the room at the council and up to the translators in the gallery. Lady Smallwood sat on your right, you were meant to oversee the enquiry together. Naturally as she was your senior, she took charge. When it came to Magnussen, you knew when to keep your mouth shut.

“Charles Augustus Magnussen.” He answered slowly, his eyes fixated on you as you broke and looked away. You kept your focus onto the stack of papers in front of you.

“Mr. Magnussen, how would you describe your influence over the Prime Minister?” Lady Smallwood, asked, jumping right in, not holding back.

“The British Prime Minister?” Magnussen asked, making you want to roll your eyes. Of course you were going to have to be more specific, he’s probably got every Prime Minister in the world in his pocket.

“Any of the British Prime Ministers you have known.” Smallwood expanded upon her question. That must be a lengthy list, he’s been in this business for a while.

“I’ve never had the slightest influence over any of them. Why would I?” Magnussen played dumb. Lady Smallwood turned to you with an exasperated look, she wasn’t going to let this go.

“Mr. Magnussen, I notice you’ve had seven meetings at Downing Street this year. Why?” You ask, keeping your tone as kind and impartial as possible. God forbid you come off threatening to the man who’s blackmailing you.

“Because I was invited.” He answered simply, it’s not like he was going to come out and say the true reason he was there or what he had on the PM.

“Can you recall the subjects under discussion?” Lady Smallwood picked up where you left off.

“Not without being more indiscreet than I believe is appropriate.” He smiled with those dead lifeless eyes.

“Do you think it right that a newspaper proprietor, a private individual and, in fact, a foreign national should have such regular access to our Prime Minister?” John Garvie, the MP of Rockwell South asked, his tone hostile. You turned to him with a raised brow, he was stepping out of line, and by his definition, you were also a foreign national. He needed to be careful, he didn’t know who he was dealing with.

Magnussen lifted his glasses from the table and slipped them on. You knew he wouldn’t take kindly to that comment.

“I don’t think it’s wrong that a private individual should accept an invitation. However, you have my sincere apologies for being foreign.” He almost smirked, you shook your head at his remark, what a cheeky bastard. You had to hand it to him, however evil, the fucker was good at what he does.

“That’s not what I meant. That is not in any way...” Garvie tried to cover, looking to you and Smallwood for help. You shook your head to silence him, the damage was already done and now he would have to live with the consequences.

“Mr. Magnussen, can you recall an occasion when your remarks could have influenced government policy?” Lady Smallwood asked, “Or the Prime Minister’s thinking in any way?”

“No,” He answered with certainty, spilling his glasses off to clean them.

“Are you sure?” Lady Smallwood pressed, still not convinced.

“I have an excellent memory.” Magnussen almost smirked, putting his glasses back on. You heard Smallwood sigh beside you, knowing this was getting nowhere.

“Madam Director-General do you have anything to add?” Lady Smallwood asked you, you turned and made eye contact with Magnussen, remembering his words from earlier as he passed you in the parlor.

“Those who speak of what they know find too late that silence is wise.” He quoted ominously and you rolled your eyes.

“Is that a threat Mr. Magnussen?” You asked, unamused.

“Simply a reminder.” He smirked, walking past you, brushing his hand under your chin to lift your head until your eyes met. You pulled away from his touch, wondering how much trouble you’d get into if your hand just accidentally found its way into a fist and completely on accident, rammed into his face.

“No, I do not.” You shook your head, and the meeting adjourned.

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

You came home in a sour mood, dealing with Magnussen had that effect on everyone. Sherlock could tell something was wrong when you walked in the door. Your head was slumped, you were quiet and didn’t say anything as you slipped off your coat and hung it on the rack.

“Bad day?” Sherlock asked, looking up from his laptop as he sat in his chair.

“You could say that.” You huffed, that was an understatement. You turned back to Sherlock as he tilted his head at you.

“What happened?” He asked, curiously.

You simply shook your head. You couldn’t just say that the man that was blackmailing you was under investigation for influencing government officials and was going to walk away scott free with your help. Nope, that wouldn’t go over well.

He placed his laptop onto the ground and motioned for you to come to him with his fingers. You slipped off your heels and sauntered over to him. You sat on the arm of his chair, draping your legs over his lap. He rubbed his hand up your arm comfortingly, before leaving in to kiss you. He knew not to press any further when it came to your work. There were some things you couldn’t tell him, he understood that. You smiled after he kissed you, almost instantly forgetting about your horrible day.

“Have you found a case yet?” You asked as he slipped his arm around your back to hold you in place. You knew he's been desperate for one.

“Nothing substantial,” He shook his head with a frown, you stroked his cheek with a sad smile.

“Something will come up soon, it has to,” You tried to reassure him.

“Come on, how about I make us some dinner.” You hopped up off his lap and started to make your way towards the kitchen.

“Marriage has made you domestic,” He chuckled, getting up from his chair. You stopped and turned around, feigning offense.

“For that comment, you’re making dinner,” You pointed at him with a smirk, he raised his hands in defeat, laughing.

For once the kitchen didn’t look like a complete disaster. You grabbed a few things from the fridge and helped Sherlock prep dinner. The two of you moved like a well oiled machine, communicating without words. Sherlock playfully splashed you with water from the sink as you laughed and planned your counter attack.

You knew things were too good to be true. You knew the universe wouldn’t let the two of you be happy for too long.

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

A week later Sherlock walked into the flat as you were curled up in his chair with a book on a rare day off. You nearly hadn’t heard him come in, he took the stairs so slowly. You smiled and greeted him once he’d entered through the door, his silence clued you in that something was wrong.

“Y/N...” Sherlock said, his tone was serious.

“What is it?” You asked, closing your book. Clearly something was up, you could tell that he was struggling with his words, and that worried you.

“I have a case.” He said carefully, and you chuckled in relief.

“That’s it?” You smiled, shaking your head, “You had me worried for a second there.”

But his demeanor hadn’t changed, there was more.

“It’s a very delicate case, one that will require a lot from me... from us.” He said vaguely. He was trying to protect you, he didn’t want you to get mixed up in this and get hurt.

“From us?” You asked, not understanding, did he need your help?

“I can’t bring you into this case. It’s too dangerous, and I can’t lose you. You know that, I can’t live without you.” He made his way towards you.

“You’re scaring me Sherlock.” You stood from the chair, now face to face with him.

“We have to make people believe we’ve broken up.” He said quickly, and your jaw dropped. Of all the things you thought he would say, that was not on the list.

“What?” You asked, eyes wide.

“For the case, I have to appear to be single. I’ll have to appear to hit rock bottom, and I can’t get you wrapped up in this.” He tried to explain best he could without giving away too many details. You wondered what exactly ‘rock bottom’ meant, because for him it always came back to one 7% solution.

“Ok,” You said hesitantly, after taking a moment to think.

“There’s one more thing... I may have to pretend to date someone else. I’m not sure what way this will go yet, I’ve determined 43 possible outcomes and I just, I need you to know this before I start working on the case.” He rambled, he was nervous. Though anyone would be if they had to tell their wife that they essentially were taking a break.

“This case is important, I gather.” You assumed, clearly he wouldn’t be going through all of this if it wasn’t.

“Extremely.” He said dryly. There was no hint of joking in his voice.

“You’re not going to get yourself killed are you?” You asked with the raise of your brow. If it was that dangerous maybe you'd be more helpful by his side, after all the resources at your disposal are vast.

“That would be unfortunate, but it’s not my intention.” He retorted.

“Let's keep it that way.” You ordered, you were not ready to become a widow.

“So you’re ok with this?” He furrowed his brows, thinking you were going to put up more of a fight.

“I trust you with my life. I know you wouldn’t be doing this unless it was absolutely necessary. And the fact that you’re including me in your deceptions and warning me is very thoughtful and shows a lot of personal growth.” You smiled, proudly. The Sherlock you knew two years ago wouldn’t have even been giving you this warning, he would have just dumped you to protect you.

“You’re starting to sound like a therapist.” He scoffed playfully.

“I have one question,” You said in a serious tone, earning a nod from him, “How...committed will you have to be to this fake relationship?”

“I may have to kiss her to be convincing, but I won’t allow it to go any further than that, if that’s what you’re asking.” He nodded, of course he didn’t want to be doing this, but at this point all his calculations pointed to this being the best option.

You nodded and slowly unclasped the chain around your neck. You slipped your wedding and engagement rings off your finger and slipped them onto the chain, before refastening it around your neck and tucking it into your shirt.

“I know I’m asking a lot of you.” Sherlock reached forward and took your hand.

“We’ve been through much more than this. We’ve fought bigger demons. We can make it through this too. What’s your anticipated timeline?” You asked curiously, you could handle being away from your husband for a few weeks, your work was keeping you busy enough to take your mind off of it, but you didn’t think you could handle months.

“A few weeks, I’ll know more in the coming days.” Sherlock nodded, of course he’d like to get this case done as fast as possible, but that didn’t seem likely given the delicate nature and number of moving parts.

“Well I guess it’s a good thing I kept my apartment then.” You smiled, Mrs. Astor would sure love to have you back for a little while.

“That is convenient, yes.” He nodded.

“I do owe Charles dinner, that could be good for your narrative. I can make sure we’re seen. I guess I should pack my things.” You looked around the flat. You weren’t sure how public this break up would have to be, would you have to convince Mycroft, or John? Luckily during your tenure at MI6 you’d learned a thing or two about playing a convincing character. This could be fun, like a little game to distract yourself from the fact that your husband would be entertaining another woman.

“No, wait until tomorrow. Tonight I want to show my wife just how much I love her.” Sherlock smiled, grateful that you were on board with this crazy idea.

“She sounds like a lucky lady.” You smirked.

“She’s about to be.” Sherlock chuckled darkly as he scooped you up into his arms. You squealed with laughter as your feet left the ground and Sherlock’s lips met yours suddenly, as he carried you back to the bedroom.

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

Please comment and reblog so we can keep this story going! I have more coming but yalls support helps so much!

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iamcath · 3 years ago

Text

You and Your one Kita Shinsuke

It’s quite a surprise and it still amazes you when you start dating one, Kita Shinsuke. You still feel like it was just yesterday when you saw him smile for the first time. It was during your senior year at Inarizaki High.

Kita was not a kind of person who would openly smile at anyone which made him a peerless elite if one might say but that didn’t stop you from admiring him from afar. Some of your friends will ask you ‘why? Why him?’ saying how there's a lot of guys who are much more attractive and friendlier than him but you simply answered them with, “Why not?”. It’s not like you're so pretty to choose whoever you want and even if you are, you would certainly choose Kita over and over again.

This choice happened when you were running in wanting to catch up with your teacher so that you could hand in your report but your lizard brain didn’t think that you might end up injured if you hadn't avoided the wall and landed on it. Instead you bumped to someone who you didn't notice walking along the same path as you earlier. You thought you would fall but when you opened your eyes, you saw this person. It happened so fast and all that you can remember was him holding your waist, preventing you from falling off the ground.

You get so flustered and embarrassed, pulling yourself away, bowing your head when you realize who this person is. It’s Kita Shinsuke from class 3-7, the student who achieved excellent scores in all of his test papers and school activities. The honor student, Kita Shinsuke. “I’m so sorry! Kita-san. I didn’t see you... I was-” you stutter explained.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, face still wearing his usual stiff expressionless self but you had the chance to look at him in his eyes. Not to brag about it, but you know how to read one person’s personality just by looking at them in the eyes and you know that instant, Kita is a nice and dependable type of guy. You shook your head and apologized for the trouble that you caused him.

He shakes his head saying that you didn’t trouble him but he reminded you not to run within the vicinity of the school ground as it may lead you to an accident like this. You bowed your head again stating how sorry you are and you will absolutely take note of this.

And for the first time, you saw that smile. That smile that will change how you see him, a smile that will change your perspective about him. As he walks away, your lips curve into a smile with flushed cheeks as you say to yourself, ‘Kita-san, sure is nice..’

From there, you always made sure that you watched every game that the volleyball team had. It doesn’t matter if it was just a practice or an exhibition game. Although Kita rarely enters the court to play, you know that he, as the captain, really boosts the team's confidence. Kita’s presence is something else. Like a talisman or a good luck charm(but only you would think this) because you know and heard some members of the team talking about how strict he was as a captain. Kita is the only person who can make everyone get their shit together inside and outside of the court. He started noticing you when he saw you cheering at the bleachers. You cheered so loud for him, of course it would be too hard not to notice you. You blushed the hell out of you, when your eyes and his eyes met and your heart almost jumped out of your chest when he gave you that smile again. The kind of smile that he gives when you are around that you almost thought that’s the smile he only wears only for you.

The two of you, as if natural, get closer to each other. He made sure that you wouldn’t skip lunch and even help you out with your failing grades. If you get lucky enough, he will walk with you to your house just to make sure you are safe. Kita Shinsuke is perfect and nobody could tell you otherwise. He’s perfect regardless of what other people say.

Everyone would be so jealous and envious of you if they were given a chance to take a peek of that smile that Kita let out every time you tell him how handsome he was or to hear him laugh when you tell him the crappiest joke but you would never gonna allow anyone to see and hear that. You are selfish even though you can’t call him ‘mine’.

“Why are you so mad today? Did I do something wrong?” Kita asked you. You have been hella annoyed when you saw him accepting another girl’s gift earlier. It’s Valentine's day and you want him to stand still and do nothing at all but to accept your homemade chocolate that you took all night to prepare. And to think that you have been waiting for him for exactly 15 minutes just to see him accepting someone’s chocolate … He's gonna be kidding you.. You are so pissed and decided to let him be.

Although Kita is a very smart, nice and dependable kind of guy, he could also be the stupidest guy ever in the whole wide world. (at least not on academically or being street wise stupid.) The guy is just too dense, to not be able to tell and understand how you feel. Should you try to put it out into words? Nah, scrap that. You can’t even look him straight in the eyes without getting so flustered. You look so red all over your face as you fidget your fingers and he actually mistook it as a fever that he carried you on his back and wouldn’t put you down despite you telling him to do so. He’s just too stupid like that sometimes, that you wanted to smack him down already.

“Nothing.. Go and talk to the girl who has given you that chocolate earlier. Sorry for disturbing your precious time.” you sarcastically answer, pouting your lips, rolling your eyes as you shrug your shoulders.

Kita covered his mouth and looked away from you in an attempt to hold his laughter back. You squint your eyes hard so hard on him as you can’t believe that he actually finds something funny in your annoyances, “Are you laughing at me just now? Wow Shinsuke-kun.”

You don’t call him by his given name but you usually call him with your made up nickname just for him, it could be ‘Shin-shin’ or could be ‘Shinkin’ and if you called him ‘Shinsuke’, that could only mean one thing.. You are mad and already planning on how to kill him.

You huff your cheeks and about to walk out on him when he grabbed your arms and hugged you as he says, “Calm down will ya? It’s not for me.. The girl you saw earlier requested that I give her chocolates to Aran-kun. I’m sorry for laughing okay? I’m actually waiting for you the entire day..”

Your head is spinning that you almost wanted to faint as your heart skips a beat. You wanted to say something but it seems like no words can escape your lips. You have been waiting for this but you anticipated that Kita would actually do something like this to you.

He pulls away slowly as he gives you that smile, that smile that you know is just for you., “So, Can I have my chocolate now?”

“Only because you insist!.” you yelled, trying to hide your flustered face as you handed him the box of chocolates. You finally decided that today will be the day you gonna make him yours. You straighten your posture as your gulp to finally say the words that you have meaning to say to him, “Shin-kun.. I like you..”.

You finally said it, bowing your head as you didn’t want him to see your face. It was so red that it practically showed steam over your head. Your nervous heart can’t take the silence anymore, what were you thinking anyway? There’s no way one Kita Shinsuke could like you back. He’s just nice that he puts up with you all this time.. You are just stupid to think that it was something.. You were about to cry when he touched your face, pulling your chin back up..

And you were a little surprised when you saw his face probably mirroring the same face as you had but he never took his stares away from you, “Don’t you cry at me now.. Whatever you were thinking, that’s not it.. You caught me a little off guard that’s why I couldn’t say anything but.. I also wanted to say something to you.. For a little while now… I like you.. I always have, ever since the day I first saw you. So.. Will you go out with me?” he asked as he rubbed the back of his neck, nervously waiting for your answer.

You never saw him get nervous before as he always says that there’s nothing to be nervous about with the things you usually do daily. So seeing him like this, you knew that he never did this before and this is the first time he said something like this.

You giggled and smiled at him, “Okay.. I’ll do you a favor… I’ll go out with you.” you said which made him smile right back at you and that is how you got yourself one ‘Kita Shinsuke’.

Your body still aches from delivering your new born baby and just opening your eyes with the view that you would love to look at for the rest of your life. It’s been seven years already after that day and you still can’t believe that the man in front of you, who is now cradling your baby in his arms, is the father of your child and your husband.

When Kita noticed you were awake, he approached you slowly, trying not to wake up your son who already looks like him and took a seat beside you on your hospital bed, “You did a great job love, just look how perfect this tiny human is. Thank you for making me the luckiest and the happiest man in the entire world.” he said, tears falling in his eyes.

You wipe it away with your hand, slightly gazing at your ring finger where your wedding ring shines, as you said, “You will be a great father to our baby as you are a great husband to me. Thank you for making me the luckiest and happiest woman in the entire world.”

With those words that bring comfort to your other half, you knew how imperfect Kita was and even though he's not perfect as other people proclaimed him to be, you wouldn’t change anything.. Because for you… He’s imperfect but he’s your Kita Shinsuke.

#haikyuu!!#kita shinsuke #reader/kitashinsuke #F/M pairing #writing just because I can #I love my farm boy

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