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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

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My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x soulmate!reader #tom hiddleston soulmate au #soulmate au #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #completely self indulgent #as always

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erwinsvow · 4 years ago

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𝐚𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

note: part two to the college headcanons! part one can be found here! i had a lot of fun writing these and i hope everyone enjoys them :) teacher/student dynamic warning for zeke and hange's, and i guess bullying for annie's :/

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

the very definition of kind-hearted frat boy who doesn’t fit the stereotype he’s been assigned at all

starts off with accounting before realizing he hates math, moves into business management and marketing

the linkedin profile is absolutely popping, 500+ connections and details about every club and organization he’s ever been a part of

the friend that helps everyone find internships and fixes their resumes while offering helpful advice and not being condescending… anyways so that’s how you meet porco

he works at the career center 100% and does various coaching/prep help, and you, pieck’s friend, are in desperate need of an internship

so you’re complaining to your friend as usual, when she tells you to stop by the building and ask for a “pock”

so you do just that, walking in and asking for “pock” and porco is a little stunned by this pretty stranger calling him by a nickname reserved for his close friends, and even then he just barely tolerates it

but he doesn’t want to correct you, especially since you’re being so sweet and he can tell you need some help

so a meeting at the career center slowly turns into facetime calls to review applications and last-minute edits, stopping by your dorm to help you fill out paperwork and walking together to mail it out

i have a feeling porco doesn’t wanna be too forward, and he thinks he’s being very aloof and casual, when he really just seems oblivious

and you cannot tell for the life of you if he likes you or he’s just being friendly since you’re close with pieck

finally after you land the internship and won't have your normal excuse to spend time with him, you get the guts you've been searching for

you tell him about the position later in the day, stopping by the center for hopefully the last time

"by the way, my number's on my resume if you're ever gonna ask me out."

leaves pocky-boy flustered and red and scrambling to ask you out, and you have been happily dating since

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

oh boy

conny is a very typical college kid in the sense that he will sleep through every 8 am class he has, blow off class to go wait in line for the nacho bar, and has adopted the mantra ‘c’s get degrees’

but he is an extremely lovable education major with a focus in history

rarely seen without his shadow sasha, but now that she started dating niccolo, she thinks that conny could use a relationship too, and that it might do him some good to be with a funny, down-to-earth person

thus begins the most grueling two weeks for every girl on campus, as sasha hunts down girls that she thinks would be a good match for her best friend

this includes airdropping a photo of conny to the lecture hall with the caption “would you date this man? serious inquiries only”

creates a fake tinder complete with a google form to narrow down the options

however, none of this is necessary because sasha bumps into you in the smoothie line and causes your triple berry blend to go flying

she helps you clean up and idle conversation leads to you talking about dates and so forth

“well, i’d love to set you up with my best friend? how do you feel about a blind date?”

yes, conny met you, the love of his life, on a blind date set up by sasha with a stranger

it’s one of those funny stories that people don’t believe when you tell them, because how ridiculous is that, but you both think it’s perfect since you get along so well and it made all the waiting worth it

bonus: double dates with sasha and niccolo! fondue night at their apartment, going to the arcade and having to lug up sasha and her food baby while niccolo parks the car, just overall a grand time :)

𝐳𝐞𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

zeke yeager, ph.d. started his new job at university with one rule in mind: absolutely no illicit affairs

he also coaches the club baseball team, because why not get involved on your campus

he really believes that he’s gonna stick with it too, despite the overwhelming number of students who come to his office hours with questions that his less handsome teaching assistants could answer

but no, he doesn’t want to earn a reputation as that professor, and so he heads into the new semester with absolutely no lingering thoughts of an exciting little dalliance to get him through the monotonous days

he knows his huge lecture classes would always come with a few pretty students, but it’s the smaller, upper-level psych class he’s teaching when he meets you for the first time

zeke has you all figured out, or so he thinks. sitting in the front row, raising your hand for questions he wasn’t expecting anyone to actually have an answer to, neatly handwritten notes in a color-coded notebook. he wouldn’t peg you for the type to jump and take the risk by starting a relationship with a professor.

but he soon realizes that he didn’t have you as figured out as he thought he did.

you avoid the gaggle of freshmen during office hours by scheduling meetings instead, sometimes right before class, coming to him with two cups of coffee and a wide smile that actually had him fooled into thinking you were here for academic reasons

this facade quickly fades though, because after a semester of interactions with you and getting more and more comfortable with each other, to the point where coffee orders are memorized and it’s zeke rather than professor yeager, you’ve had just about enough

he knows he’s fucked when you come visit him at practice for the baseball team, bringing him a drink and engaging in conversation while the players watch their coach flirt with you

he’s especially fucked when he realizes he’s looking forward to practice just because there’s a chance you’ll stop by on your way to your next class

you submit your final paper early, nearly a week before it’s due and of course the first in the class to do so, and waltz into his office the next day with another steaming cup of his favorite drink

“you submitted your paper pretty early, you know.”

“i know. i also know that it means i’m not your student anymore, so if you were going to make a move, now’s the time.”

no, he definitely had underestimated how much he knew about you.

𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

mikasa is a forensic sciences major and is still debating on the minor- she’s torn between criminal justice or history like armin.

she loves her major classes, but she just wants something else interesting to look forward to as well, so armin suggests sitting in on a couple classes early in the semester and getting a taste for it.

so you don’t really think twice when she claims the empty seat next to you on the first day of classes, smiling politely and paying attention to the professor. you do notice, however, that she’s not writing anything down or looking at the syllabus, leading you to strike a conversation on why that is.

she explains herself and then before you even know it, the lecture ends and you spent the last forty minutes talking to mikasa about anything and everything.

she’s sitting in on another class tomorrow, and absent mindedly invites you to come along, to which you agree all too quickly, because why wouldn’t you

numbers are exchanged, times are fixed, and mikasa leaves wondering why she’s so excited at the idea of sitting with you in class again.

you two hate the history class she had chosen, with the professor droning on and on and you being focused entirely on the conversation you’re having with mikasa

until the professor kicks the two of you out for not shutting up, that is

you’re both laughing hysterically once you reach the hallway

“i’m gonna have to discourage you from doing that history minor if that’s what all the classes are like.”

“well, i have to do criminal justice so we can have that class together, anyways.”

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭

true to form, annie goes into one of the most difficult majors: cheg. definitely flies through intro courses with straight As and minimal effort, but that’s also mostly because all she and bertholdt do is study

reiner tries his hardest to get her to go to a party every once in a while, but usually to no avail because she always has an exam to study for

you’re a tutor, and honestly, you’d say you were pretty good at your job. you can answer questions and explain reasonings fairly well to confused students. but when annie comes to your office hours with some complicated problems and she’s asking for explanations that you just don’t have, you literally feel your face burn with heat for the entirety of the time she’s there

long story short, your first encounter is embarrassing, to say the least. you’re stumbling over words as you try to look through your old notes and piece together an answer for annie, who you cannot even look in the eyes.

anyways, she leaves eventually and you want a hole to open in the ground and swallow you up, but at least she won’t be back next week, right?

wrong.

miss leonhart doesn’t know how to express her feelings any better than you, so her way of flirting is spending time with you in the tutor center as you fail to answer her questions time and time again

you want to scream at her to stop coming because she and you both know you’re not helping either of you with this

but also you really don’t want her to stop coming because you don’t have any other ways to see her outside of class

both of you reach your wit’s end on the same day, her coming to you with the absolute easiest problems she could find in the textbook, and you with every intention of asking her out to dinner

she opens her book, and you reach and close it quickly

“unless this is the only way you know how to flirt, something has to change now.”

𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐳𝐨𝐞

dr. zoë teaches, just, way too many classes

we’re talking multiple chemistry labs and upper-level research courses as well

you’re just a ph.d. student doing rotations as per usual, and you’ve heard the comments from students senior to you about dr. zoë, who makes every student in rotation say hange instead of the formal way you’re used to

you’ve heard everything from crazy to genius and everything in between

what you weren’t expecting was… so good looking, and young? and comforting? and talking about all the things that you didn’t have the guts to bring up with other people, like how you always feel a little left out in the field and that you think no one cares about your research interests that much—a lot of stuff that you find yourself pouring out to hange on your very first day in the lab

you’re wondering why it’s so easy to talk to them, and why none of the other rotations ever felt this comfortable

and then you realize you’re spilling your guts to someone who probably doesn’t even care, and has way more to deal with on their plate than a ph.d. student with imposter syndrome

so you’re apologizing right after you’ve finished, when you’re met with the warmest look and a reassuring hand on your shoulder

it’s so easy to fall after that, with weekly meetings and regular check-ins, and you know it’s wrong to have this strange crush on your superior, but hange really feels like the one person you can count on here

you hide the crush in favor of getting the mentorship you desperately think you need, but it’s not long until you’re onto the next rotation and the next lab’s work is even closer to the stuff you love

you hate the way you feel, that you’re not gonna have any reason to keep in touch and you never even got to explain how you feel about them—and that you didn’t even get to experience hange’s energy because she was always listening and helping you out

it’s not until you get a text the night before your first day in the new lab from hange, filled with reassuring words and asking for a coffee date later in the week to talk about how it goes, that you realize just how well hange understood you

𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

last but not least, miss pieck is double majoring in french and public health

absolutely obsessed with her majors and loves the subjects, but works herself to death to keep up with it all

you don’t even realize that the pretty, studious girl you’re seeing in the library all the time is the same girl you spot with some of your friends from class

pieck is as oblivious as they come. you invite her on study dates after you two are introduced by reiner, invite her to get coffee after a particularly late night of studying, pretty much start spending most of your days together

you can’t help but be disappointed that pieck doesn’t see you in that way, because you’ve slowly been falling head over heels, but you accept that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, and you still love the friendship you two have

it takes a while for things to click for pieck, but they do right as the semester eases up

once exams are over, you two decide to go to these famous parties porco and reiner never stop talking about

it’s not the usual scene you’re comfortable with, but what’s wrong with letting loose a little, especially after midterms? no harm in having fun, right?

wrong again! you definitely get plastered way too quickly, and eventually pieck takes you to a room to settle down

drunk confessions of love aren’t usually the way to go, but you can’t help but reveal everything you’ve been feeling for the last few months when pieck is taking care of you in your current state

you definitely wake up hungover and ignorant to last night’s shenanigans, but you’re in your dorm, with a bottle of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, phone plugged in and shoes off

pieck comes back with breakfast, coffee and your favorite pastries, and checks up on you

“so.. about last night..”

“i’m so sorry, did i throw up on you?”

“no, but you did say you were in love with me. was that just a drunk thing, or is it a sober thing too? because i think i’m in love with you too.”

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codenamed-queenie · 5 years ago

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#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched.

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire.

So. Quarantine it is.

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick -

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days.

Then he started to get twitchy.

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.”

“Dick, no.”

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t.

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass.

Desperate for news of the outside.

He thrives off of it like a starving man.

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after.

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason -

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist.

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking.

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results.

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it.

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up.

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done.

Barbara -

Self-quarantined with her dad.

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive.

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs.

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together.

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles.

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony.

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window.

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background.

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute.

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen.

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe.

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned.

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim.

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being.

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out.

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it.

Cass -

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate.

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed.

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far.

But no one knows for sure.

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel.

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later.

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic.

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day.

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’ mostly.

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost.

Steph -

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first.

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down.

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable.

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving.

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks.

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s.

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic.

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place.

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian -

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house.

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine.

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds.

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion.

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time.

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are.

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time.

Only that he is Out There.

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had.

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies.

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat.

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts.

Duke -

Did not leave the attic for two weeks.

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement.

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement.

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement.

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa.

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally.

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others.

Duke has seen these people under pressure.

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with.

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

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elfwoodfae · 4 years ago

Text

“Nightcall” Harrison Eo Wells x reader

Chapter 3

Summary: As you taunt the devil another criminal may be ready to strike.

Gif credits go to the owner, I found this one on google.

Author’s note: let me know what you all think, if you have any suggestions, I hope you like it!

Once again, you were all brainstorming ideas about the man in yellow, nothing concrete, but the team had been stuck for a few days without making any progress.

“I just don’t believe that he doesn’t go somewhere after,” Barry commented.

You were sitting on Cisco’s desk and as you saw Wells roll into the cortex you decided to chip on your own ideas. Even tho he had specifically told you not to.

“You know I bet he has a day job too,” you said while noticing from the corner of your eye how Dr. Wells moved his head to look at you and rub two fingers over his lips, how he tended to do when he was thinking, probably how to get rid of you without attracting heat to himself.

“He seems smart, I bet he is some kind of doctor,” you spurred on. “I mean his suit seems pretty legit so he probably is very smart.” Now you were sassing him up. Oh boy were you sassing him up. You knew this risky comment had the potential to blow up on your face, but honestly it was a risk you were willing to take just by the look of Wells’ eyes.

“Very interesting idea y/n.” Wells said looking at you with that fake smile he gave people. God how you wanted to whip it off his face.

“Actually Dr. Wells I was wondering if I could talk to you about something” you asked him as you hopped off the desk.

He only nodded and signaled you to follow him. This plan could very much make you or break you. You were hoping for the first one.

“Those two seem to be talking a lot lately” Cisco commented once you were out of earshot.

Once in Wells’ office you reclined yourself against his desk and looked at him.

“So I have been thinking about your proposition.” You began to speak.

“My proposition? I don’t believe I have proposed anything to you” he said, the look on his face was unbelievable, you had some nerve to be sassing him up so much, and the worst part was that he couldn’t kill you or get rid of you just yet without making it obvious and drawing attention to himself.

“Yes, your proposition about me not speaking and you not killing me” you continued.

“I have thought about it, and I’m willing to accept with one condition.”

He couldn’t believe you. He just couldn’t believe that you were either stupid enough or brave enough to face him.

“I don’t believe I gave you a choice or that you have one, what part of dying was not clear to you?” He added.

“Trust me it was very clear to me since you literally stuck a hand in me, but killing aside, I will keep your secret on a condition, so please at least humor me, we both know you can’t kill me, for what reason is unclear to me but if you really wanted me dead I would be by now.”

You would be the fault in his plan if he didn’t do something about you fast. You were too smart and too fearless of him to be scare that easy. Or too stupid as he had previously thought.

“What is that condition?” He would humor you, play your game and let you think you had the upper hand until he could get rid of you.

“I will play along with you and keep your secret safe, going as far as making sure no one else suspects of you, only if you promise me that once this is all over, and you get whatever it is you are trying to achieve that you will leave a confession freeing Barry’s father of the murder of Nora.”

Now that wasn’t that hard, he would be gone, it wouldn’t affect him in any way, and if that’s what it took to keep you quite then he would oblige.

“Fine, I give you my word.” He said.

“And you won’t hurt Barry badly, or anyone else in the team” you added, feeling a wave of bravery.

“Don’t push your luck little one or you will find out what happens when you taunt me.” he said through gritted teeth, he was a very patient man, but you had a way of pushing his buttons like no one that he had encountered in a long time.

After your little conversation with Wells you felt more confident than ever, you had managed to at least get something out of it and the enjoyment of messing with him, it made you feel powerful.

“Well someone is in a good mood” Cisco said as you entered the cortex smiling and more relaxed than they had seen you in a long time.

“What happened back there?” Cisco insinuated as he looked at you suspiciously.

“Gross Cisco! Gross!” You screamed at him with a fake look of disgust.

“I’m just saying!” He added raising his hands in the air in an apologetic manner.

“Alright you guys,” you called everyone’s attention.

“I’m going to get some coffee, anyone wants anything?”Everyone made their orders and you left to Jitters.

It was getting dark by the time you were getting out of Jitters, walking to your car with your hands full, you struggled to get the key out of your pocket, and as you placed the coffees on the roof of your car and looked at your window to open the car you screamed in fear as a hand covered your mouth with some kind of clothe and the other one grabbed your neck beginning to drag you away.

Back at Star labs, the team had began to wonder what was taking you so long. It was normal to take some time since Jitters wasn’t exactly a street away, but you had been gone for almost two hours.

Just as Barry was about to tell Cisco to try and call you for the twentieth time, a message was being broadcasted on the tv.

“Cisco!”Caitlin urged him as she pointed to the monitor. “Put the volume up!”

“Flash!” The knowing voice of Captain Cold came through the speakers. “I have a friend of yours. If you don’t come and surrender yourself, she will die.” He added in his typical singsong way of speaking.

“Flash don’t come for me!” You could be heard screaming in the background, the focus changed to you as the image showed another man putting a gag in your mouth while you were tied to a chair.

“We need to do something fast” Barry said as he raised his hands to his hair in desperation. In that moment doctor Wells who had seen the whole ordeal from the entrance to the cortex spoke.

“We need to be careful Mister Allen, we don’t know where they are keeping her or if Captain Cold still have the cold gun.”

“Dr. Wells is right, we need to be careful, acting on impulse may not be the best call right now.” Caitlin added.

“I know but we can’t just stay and do nothing! He has y/n” he desperately added.

“I’m aware but I do caution restrain.” He added.

They planned a strategy, as Barry made it to the meeting point, Cisco and Joe would go to see the location where they suspected you were being kept.

As Barry struggled to defeat Cold and Heat Wave. Dr. Wells and Caitlin stayed behind guiding them through the operation. When Barry finally manage to neutralize Cold and Rory a bigger problem arose.

“Guys!” Came Cisco desperate voice through the comms. “She isn’t here, this was a decoy” he added.

Barry looked down on Cold, and as he grabbed him by his shirt collar he shook him.

“Where is she!?” Desperation could be heard in his voice.

“Flash, you really thought it would be that easy to find her? I hope you said your goodbyes earlier since in a matter of around two minutes your little friend will blow into the air.”

Dread came over Barry as he realized that no matter how fast he managed to search the city it wasn’t enough time to find you.

“I will give you a hint, why don’t you start in the East side?” Cold added as he smiled sarcastically at Barry.

Back the labs Wells excused himself from Caitlin and went to his time vault. He needed to find you fast. It was true that this was the perfect chance to finally get rid of you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to let you die by the hands of Cold.

You were seated in some kind of abandoned warehouse. In what part of town you had no idea, but you were painfully aware of the ticking bomb at the bottom of your chair. And as you heard the ticking get faster you were sure that was it, this is how you were going to die. If Barry hadn’t found you yet, you doubted he would on time.

As the seconds came to cero time seemed to stop all together, and in flash of red you were whisked away as the bomb went off and the explosion resonated all around you.

Your eyes watered as your mouth opened to let a sigh of relief come out. You squeezed Barry’s neck and placed your forehead on his shoulder as you breathed him in only for a second later to recognize this particular smell. This wasn’t Barry. As you opened your eyes you were met with a yellow suit and a pair of red glowing eyes. Still in his arms you hugged him again, adrenaline controlling your actions.

“I have never been happier to see you” you said, he only nodded and put you down on the floor.

As he speeded away you saw Barry coming to you fast. Relief could be read all over him the moment his eyes landed on you.

“She is safe” is all he said through the comms to the team.

“How, how did you managed to escape?” He questioned you once you were all back at Star labs as Caitlin checked you over.

“ I am not sure, I managed to free myself from the ropes but the bomb may have glitched as I had enough time to run as far as I could” you explained, trying to sound convincing.

“I mean but you don’t even have a scratch on you” Barry kept questioning you.

“I think I just had a lucky star tonight.” You said as you looked over at Harrison, who had just entered the med bay area.

“I think we should let Miss y/n rest for tonight Mister Allen.” Dr. Wells added.

“Yeah, I am just glad you are okay.”Barry added as they all walked out to let you rest for the night.

Wells was the last to leave and as he was about to roll out the door you stopped him. You had so many questions to ask him. He could have easily let you die and get rid of you without being suspicious, but he hadn’t.

“Why did you save me?” You asked when you were sure no one was close by. He only smiled at you and turned around, leaving as you sat there with now more questions about the man than ever before.

@mintchipcupcake

@nellethiel-aranel

@saltykidcreation

@twilightlover2007

#the flash imagines #eobard thawne fanfic #eowells fanfic #eowells x reader #harrison wells fanfic #harrison wells x y/n #eobard thawne x reader #harrison wells fanfiction #harrison wells imagine #harrison eo wells fanfic #harrison eo wells x reader #eobard thawne x reader fanfic #the flash fanfiction

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black-coffee-and-sugar · 3 years ago

Text

Listen, I actually couldn't finish this episode. Like I lost brain cells, got ingestion and finally KO-ed because I could NOT grasp the plot. Not even seeing Lena again made this enjoyable for me. But here's what I got:

- I wonder how many takes Thomas took to say Nxyly's full name without biting his tongue off

- also I am so sorry Thomas that they had you sing. And yet somehow that wasn't the most cringe thing to happen in this episode

- Nia and Kara desperately assigning blame to themselves instead of just, idk, working together to fix the problem. Who cares who's fault it is??

- Alex jumping in front of kara when mxy brandishes the PZ projector is the only thing I liked

- Kelly's absence felt so odd after 2 back to back episodes of her front and centre

- Nia thinking that Kara would drag her for making a mistake makes me wonder if these characters even know each other

- kara: "I should've told you guys about Nxyly". Yes you idiot you absolutely should have! Like I get that they don't wanna bring it up but like how is ignoring what happened to her any better? Do they not do any Intel sharing?

- the fucking zookeeper is still here?!?!?

- look I wasn't expecting Lena to be talking to kara on the phone, I know better than that, but I had hoped it would at least be Nia considering that Lena and her have been bonding over their moms and it just makes sense??

- andrea's titty window sans kara or Lena to see it. What was it all for?

- I understand Lena using Andrea's resources to help her out and shit and I'm actually surprised the writer's remembered she doesn't have access to the LuthorCorp jet anymore. I honestly wouldn't have batted an eye if she did tho.

- the way we haven't had ANY scenes of dialogue between kara and lena aside from 6x01 and only ONE line from kara to Lena since then. Like are they actually going to brush everything under the goddamn rug? We heard from Alex that they've forgiven each other and it seems that way too but we haven't actually had the chance to judge that as an audience and it's (checks notes) 11 episodes already???

-Kara is back and yet Lena doesn't seem full. Kara is back and yet she hasn't been vulnerable with lena or with anyone really. Or was that all a lie?

- Nxyly is actually kinda hot in this episode. Interesting development there

- the team actually fighting a giant pussy cat and more brain cells have died. If they were hoping it would be amusing like the Legends fighting a giant Beebo, spoiler alert - it was not

- mxy and Nxyly and even the king has some keysmash names but one imp is actually named Jared? Just fucking Jared. Christ

- Lena being bullied by a bunch of Canadians is hilarious and I say this as a Canadian. Like Lena has stood her ground against Lex, Lillian, SG, an interrogation room filled with judgemental pricks, fucking Reign and yet, she looked two seconds from crying when denied her hotel room by some fucking Newfies. Get the fuck outa here.

- not a single Tim Hortons run in this entire episode. Are we sure she even went to Canada???

- at one point, I was rooting for Nxyly to win.

- so not only did they bring back that god awful wig that they actually had the audacity to make footage with it? That thing needs to be snatched and thrown into the sun like the trash monster.

- Katie looked so done in this episode and I don't even blame her. I suffered second hand embarrassment on her behalf. Those lines, her behaviour. It's like what the fuck happened to the Lena from the past 4 seasons?

- the mean bartender says "I've seen you on the news running arm in arm with a bulletproof alien" and the places my mind went is probably why I didn't pay any attention to the rest of the episode.

- so lemme see if I have this right. Lena's mom visits the cave lady in her dreams but never once thought to visit her traumatized little daughter?

- am I supposed to be upset that they killed an abuser? Because I'm not

- so much porn shots of the town car driving up and down some sketch and lonely road

- did Google maps really lead Lena to some random cave?? Bruh

- Lena's scenes felt so disconnected for a minute I thought I was watching a completely different show.

- aluminum foil on the props lord did they just say fuck it and made a Dollarama run for the cheapest 200ft roll they could buy?

- Kara being a mentor to Nia for the first time since that Nia centric episode last season. God I hate it here.

- they do remember J'onn is a shape shifter right? Why do we need an image inducer? I get the little Lena is still with the team crumb but it's stupid.

- still no word on M'gann huh

- yo since the Luthors are technically perceived on Earth-Prime as "good", what trail of bodies is this bar lady talking about? This isn't public knowledge and Lena's mom only killed 1 dude who frankly deserved it.

- sigh. We're really doing this witch Lena thing then.

- kara stop trying to reach the good in people! Just stop. When has this bullshit EVER WORKED? Some people are just too far gone. Accept it.

- stronger together has truly lost meaning on this show

- Alex and Kara being so willing to hold much less use the PZ projector is utter bullshit. Also they just have that thing lying around for any grabby hands to take?

- what the actual fuck is Kara's arc this season? Or Alex? Or poor J'onn. The man has been seriously neglected.

- kara is supposed to be the most powerful being on the planet and yet this show continues to nerf her abilities. God I missed the days of S1 when Kara looked like she could fuck shit up.

- also when is kara going to be the focus of her own show again? Are we ever going to properly address Kara's issues? We got two episodes of James processing his trauma and only 5 mins of flashbacks in 6x08 for Kara and a few fleeting moments sprinkled across the last 5 seasons. Ridiculous. Like it won't diminish her as a character to seek professional help, it won't make her any less of a hero. Think of how impactful that would be and the message that could send about the importance of mental health.

- glad to see a promo for this important episode next week (I honestly can't wait - Kelly in a head wrap is so personal to me y'all) but please I'm begging you, do not make the issue of race come at the expense of kara's intelligence and awareness. She's a journalist, she's seen xenophobia and written about it, she's been friends with James for years. Kara knows about racism. Please show that.

Needless to say I did not enjoy this episode at all. I was happy to see Lena again but all her scenes were just hard to watch. I feel like so much of their very limited time is being wasted and there's still so many things they haven't touched upon yet. When exactly are we gonna get to it? Better question, will we ever get to it? Probably not.

Like I wanted to see the super friends communicating, leaning on each other, character growth, being truly stronger together but no. They're giving us literally anything but that and it's frustrating.

#every week i ask myself #why are you still watching this mess?#idk self. idk #supercorp #supergirl

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uwuwriting · 5 years ago

Note

How would the Todorokis be with their s/o?? Like Natsuo, Fuyumi, Shouto and Touya/Dabi??

I really believe that there should be a spin off called ‘Keeping up with the Todorokis’ where each one of them brings home their s/o and shit hits the fan. I love this prompt and I love ya. 💖💖💖

P.S It’s 4 am and I can’t sleep so please excuse any typos or grammatical mistakes. I’m in a daze. Enjoy.

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

Natsuo Todoroki

-He met you at a convention.

-He was in his second year of university and he decided to attend one of those medical conventions, to feel more like a doctor.

-You bumped into him as you were entering the conference room and being as smooth as always, he asked you to sit with him.

-After that your friendship blossomed.

-You found out that you were actually in the same university but in different classes and that’s why you didn’t know each other.

-Being in the same campus helped a lot with the development of the relationship.

-It didn’t take long for him to fall head over heels in love with you.

-He realized just how in love he was with you after a particular brutal confrontation with his father.

-He had been so angry and desperate for comfort that his body responded by itself and led him to your door.

-You of course helped him as best you could, making him some tea and quickly fixing him up with something to eat.

-You could see his anger as it radiated off of him.

-Also the temperature dropped so...yeah.

-You didn’t push him to talk, opting to stay silent and allow him to talk when he felt like it.

-And it worked.

-He opened up to you, letting everything go.

-About his past, about Touya, about his father and eventually how much he wants to just hold but is afraid that he’ll just be like him inn the end.

-He is terrified at the possibility of him hurting you like his father did his mother and making you miserable.

-He told you that he truly loved you.

-You were in tears at that point.

-His past accompanied by his confession was just too much for you to handle.

-You jumped into his arms, wrapping him into one of the tightest hugs he had ever experienced and you just sobbed.

-You said you loved him too and that he was one of the loveliest and sweetest people you had ever met, he could never be like his father.

-Of course at some point he started crying as well and you two became two sobbing messes on the floor of your apartment.

-Your relationship was like a fever dream.

-Natsuo is a fun guy but he’s also one of the most crackheaded people on this earth.

-One minute you’re being smothered with kisses and the next you are being manhandled to the floor in an attempt to get the TV remote.

-It’s...it’s a fever dream.

-He likes showing his goofy self to you and making you question his intelligence.

-I mean how could one person be an astounding medical student while challenging you that he could fit more marshmallows in his mouth than you?!

-He values his family even if it links with his father’s abuse.

-So expect to meet Rei and Shouto after your one year anniversary or so.

-Fuyumi is the first family member you meet and that’s completely an accident.

-You were over at Natsuo’s and she came to drop off some food because he can’t cook for shit and she saw you.

-All the Todoroki’s adore you.

-And when I say all I mean all.

-Even fireball man.

-He doesn’t really like you at the beginning because YoUr qUIrK iSn’T gOoD enOUgH, but later he warms up to you and is actually excited for your visits.

-Shouto claims that you make incredible soba so he automatically worships you.

-Lowkey had a mini crush on you but it lasted for like a week and then he got infatuated with his s/o so you were long forgotten.

-Rei loves you because Natsuo loves you and because you are literally a ray of sunshine.

-Dabi....he takes his time because being in contact with his family after so many years is weird and seeing them slowly building their own families is even weirder, so you get the point.

-All in all, they can’t wait until they get to call you an official Todoroki.

Fuyumi Todoroki

-MY GIRL IS A LESBIAN.

-Change my mind....see you can’t.

-She’s the shy one of the Todoroki group and it shows.

-You have to do the first move and every move for that matter.

-You two met when you were dropping off your nephew off at his school because you are a responsible AUNT!!

-You almost left without him tbh.

-You were being led to the class by him because you had lost every sense of direction.

-Once inside the class you were greeted with 17 pair of eyes on you which later changed to squeals of excitement.

-Kids are weird okay... they get excited from the tiniest of changes and seeing a new face in the class had them ECSTATIC.

-They asked you question after question and you were slowly suffocating by a particular kid having wrapped his arms around your middle and squeezing, until a soft voice was heard from behind you.

- “Kids go to your seats please, and Daichi please let go of the lady.”

- “But she’s so pretty.”

-It took some time to get him off of you, mainly because you weren’t helping.

-You were to busy being in a daze as you looked at Fuyumi.

-She apologized about their behavior and asked if you were okay.

-You, trying to be smooth, said you were fine and asked for her name.

-She answered with a smile and you started talking until a cry was heard from inside the class and she had to leave.

- “I hope to see you around, Todoroki-chan.” you said with a wink and left.

-She was blushing like crazy and barely mustered a ‘goodbye’ before hurrying into the classroom.

-After that you would regularly drop your nephew off only for a chance to see her again.

-Finally, after many attempts, you mustered up the courage to ask her out and were taken aback by her excited squeal of approval.

-Your relationship could be described as the definition of softness.

-Fuyumi is a soft person and prefers tranquility over anything else, so that translates to a relationship argument free and just a ton of fluffy dates and cuddle sessions.

-You’re relatively protective over her, especially after she shares her past with you, and become a literal watchdog every time Endeavor is in the proximity.

-You click with Natsuo mainly because you have your crack moments and he can’t help but vibe with you.

-She’s super understanding and knows when work has been especially hard on you.

-She will make some tea and give you a massage, followed by a mini make out session and maybe some steamy times.

-She introduces you to her mother only after you two have exchanged ‘I love you’s because that’s when she knows that you are serious with her.

-Rei A D O R E S you.

-She lights up when she sees you with Fuyumi.

-Shouto is a little more closed off so you’ll have to try and get him to really like you.

-With some help from Natsuo’s s/o you’ll be on his good side in no time.

-Endeavor was from the first people to meet you mainly because you were visiting Fuyumi at their house frequently and he didn’t like you.

-You two could become feral if Fuyumi didn’t intervene.

-Eventually he warmed up to you.....because Fuyumi was marrying you so he didn’t really have a choice.

-After he realized the importance of family he started having the mindset that if his children were happy he was happy.

-And you made Fuyumi happy.

-Still salty over your nonexistent/normal quirk though.

Shouto Todoroki

-You were in the same class.

-And he found you beautiful since day one.

-So it was kinda inevitable.

-Like come on, you were perfect to him.

-You were beautiful, smart, caring and super strong.

-He fell head over heels after he fought you at the sports festival.

-He spoke to Midoriya about this weird feeling he was feeling in his chest and he diagnosed him with love.

-Okay, Shouto has no idea what to do.

-His perception of love was obliterated by his dad and his mom wasn’t in his reach for advice.

-Fuyumi was an option but he didn’t really feel comfortable.

-So what did he do?

-He googled it.

-He googled how to flirt and how to make a girl like you.

-And you can imagine the results.

-Kaminari level flirting.

-Thankfully you found his attempts cute and finally comforted him about the whole flirting thing, asking him if he liked you.

-He said yes, you know, bluntly and asked you out.

-Your relationship was awkward at first because he had no idea what he was doing and you didn’t want to overstep and make him uncomfortable.

-After some time, and many kisses and reassuring later, he relax and let himself go.

-TOUCH STARVED BABY BOY!

-He’s clingy af and if he traps you in his arms, he won’t let go.

-You’re his now.

-End of story.

-You help him cope with his trauma and encourage him to reach out to his mom and siblings.

-You become his shoulder to cry on/ rant about his father and you are there for him for everything.

-During the Nomu incident with his father, he was really shaken and that’s when he said ‘I love you’ for the first time.

-You were in his dorm room, him having his head in his hands as his breaths became labored.

-You didn’t say anything, instead opted to massage his back and just envelope him in a loose hug.

-Everything he felt for his father, the hatred and the anger, had momentarily disappeared and had been replaced by dread for his safety.

-He had destroyed his mother and their family, but he was still part of him.

-Shouto stayed there, in your arms, and just contemplated about his feelings towards everyone, not just his father.

-And that’s when he realizes that he loves you.

-And he just blurts it out.

-You are taken aback to say the least, but you still return his sentiment.

-He decides to introduce you to his family after that.

-First stop is Rei, who loves you.

-Seeing her Shouto looking at someone like that, with so much love in his eyes, is addicting and she couldn’t be happier.

-Next stop, Fuyumi and Natsuo.

-You go out on a triple date and things are hectic.

-Chaotic energy overload.

-But everything works out and the all of them end falling in love with you.

-Endeavor, tolerates you because of your quirk.

-Not that you care.

-Shouto keeps you away from him anyways.

-A wholesome boyfriend.

-Husband material right here.

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

-Burn me you flaming ball of daddy issues.

-Friends with benefits.

-That’s how it all started.

-Just some fun nights, shared between two partners in crime before returning to murdering people.

-The thing is that, in order to make Dabi fall in love you have to do something crazy af.

-You two were on a mission to spy on Overhauls rookies, when someone spotted you.

-He was about to shoot one of those quirk erasing darts right on Dabi’s back when you pushed him out of the way, getting your quirk erased and hitting your head because of your unceremonious landing.

-You have never seen one (1) Dabi roast 20+ people faster before.

-Your whole body felt stiff and heavy, making even the slightest of movements a challenge.

-Dabi was on his knees in no time, calling your name like a mad man and trying to keep you conscious.

-He scooped you up in his arms, cold sweat running down his spine as he watched you fall in and out of consciousness.

-Even after you closed your eyes, you could here him faintly calling out to you, spewing nonsense just to stir a reaction.

-Once at the hide out, he almost roundhoused Shigaraki’s ass because he got in his way, he rushed over to the new healer of their group.

-After being told that you were going to make it, he disappeared for a week.

-You woke up and he wasn’t there, which kinda hurt.

-Okay, you may or may not have feelings for him for some time now, but of course you won’t say anything..

-You will scare him off.

-Little did you know though that Dabi was getting himself wasted in an attempt to drown his feelings for you.

-His plan failed and he decoded to confront you about it.

-Get it out of the way.

-He came back and dragged you out of the hideout and aggressively confessed to you.

-You two are now exclusive.

-Congrats!

-Things are really chill.

-He worries when you go on missions by yourself, especially after seeing you like hurt after that Overhaul mission.

-Cuddles with him are based on his mood.

-If he doesn’t really want to cuddle, he won’t .

-You can’t change that no matter what.

-You are the only one who knows about his backstory and his family.

-After being together for a long time you encourage him to reach out to his siblings or his mom.

-His dad is a no no from both of you.

-And eventually he actually does.

-He introduces you to them and they have to warm up to the both of you.

-Because having your until recently deceased brother introduce his s/o to you is kinda....overwhelming.

-In the end, they are happy to have their brother back.

-And seeing so happy and trusting with another person, had them warm.

-Dabi deserves love.

-Poor baby suffers and he doesn’t deserve it.

#fuyumi x reader #fuyumi todoroki x reader #natsuo x reader #natsuo todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #dabi my hero academia #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi #bnha

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yadds · 4 years ago

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Heyyyy so guess who’s not dead! Anyway, for anyone that’s interested, I’ve decided that I’m not posting ongoing works until I’m done with them then will post as I’m editing. Sorry! However, I do have an excerpt that I like a bit that can stand alone, so here it is! Also, despite the sexual nature of the initial conversation, this is pre-starker and isn’t really much about sex.

Minor background info: Tony has come back from the dead and is still with Pepper but they’re having issues. Meanwhile, the Starker bromance is developing and they hang out quite a bit.

____________________________________________________________________

“Spit or swallow?” Peter asked out of the blue as they sat on the couch watching reality tv.

Tony’s eyebrows were about to climb right into his hairline. “Excuse me?”

“Spit or swallow?” he repeated, over enunciating. “What are your thoughts?”

“Just to be clear, we’re talking about…” Tony trailed off slowly.

“You know, bjs. Blowies. I’m sure you’ve gotten one once or twice,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes, tossing several pieces of popcorn into his mouth.

“Yeah, might have happened on a rare occasion,” Tony responded dryly. “Well, honestly I can take it or leave it on the receiving end, doesn’t make that much of a difference to me.”

Peter’s head tilted back and forth, considering, before shrugging.

“When giving though, I generally don’t like either. Don’t get me wrong, I love going down on people and making them feel good, but I prefer if they don’t finish in my mouth. Obviously I’ve done it before and may very well do it again so I guess I’d probably say swallow? It’s already there, so why make a mess?”

Peter’s attention was now fully on Tony, the TV forgotten in the background. Tony glanced over and smiled wryly when he saw his gaping mouth and red cheeks. “What’s with the stunned mullet impression? Did you not literally just ask that question? Am I going senile already?”

Peter cleared his throat and turned back to face the tv again. “Uh, yeah, I uh I did ask. But I was thinking more on the receiving end - I wasn’t expecting you to talk about giving.”

One of Tony’s brows crept back up. “Oh? And why is that? Because you think I’m a selfish asshole in bed as well or because you think I’m shy?”

Peter shook his head quickly, not catching the amused tilt of Tony’s lips. “No, no of course not! I just didn’t know that you, uh, you know, partake, in partners of the, uh, male persuasion?” If Peter shoveled any more popcorn into his mouth after the desperate handful he just shoved in there, he was going to suffocate.

“Huh,” Tony said thoughtfully. Had they really never talked about this before? “Well, weird phrasing aside (because that was weird, kid, what’s up with that?), I thought it was pretty common knowledge that I was bisexual.”

Peter shook his head again, glancing back Tony’s way. “Nope, definitely not. At least not in any of the articles or interviews online. I mean, yeah, there are a few sources that mention the possibility of you not being completely straight, but they all sound like speculation.”

Tony was speechless for a minute. He watched Peter notice the extended silence and seem to realize what he just said, curling forward and burying his face in his hands, ears bright red.

He finally gathered enough wits to say, “Well, then I guess it was just common knowledge among people who actually know me. SI probably paid off the men I slept with - because heaven forbid the infamous playboy figurehead be seen with a man back in the day. I honestly never paid attention to what exactly was in the press, just made sure I was in it. If I’d known, I definitely would have been more blatantly obvious.”

He was quiet again for about five seconds before he pulled his leg up on the couch and fully turned towards Peter. “I’m sorry, I tried, but I can’t just let this go. I knew you were a big fan, but sounds like you’ve really done your research, Pete.” He couldn’t drop the shit-eating grin on his face.

Peter flopped all the way forward, shoving his face into his knees, groaning. “Can we not do this?” he whined. It only took another ten seconds of pointed silence before Peter broke. “Ugh, okay, so I may have had a crush on you when I was younger,” he admitted. “A teeny tiny, definitely not life-consuming, crush.”

Tony laughed. “And when was this?”

“I don’t know, it started when I was like 13 probably.”

“And you thought you should google my sexuality to see if, what, you had a chance with the guy four times your age that you’d never meet?” Tony didn’t think he’d been this amused in a long time.

Peter sat back up and peeked at him just to throw him a glare. “Yes, because thirteen year olds are so logical, especially when it comes to hormonal urges.”

“Never would have pegged you for being into older men.”

“Really? Because most people aren’t surprised - I apparently just radiate ‘twink with a daddy kink’,” Peter said matter-of-factly.

Tony choked, coughing loudly. “I’m sorry, did you just, in a roundabout way, call me a Daddy? In a way that has nothing to do with my daughter?”

“I- can we talk about something else now?” Peter squeaked.

“That...is probably a good idea,” Tony agreed, feeling his own cheeks heat.

They both stared very intently at the TV, trying to think of anything else.

After a while, Peter spoke up. “Why would you do it again?”

“What?” Tony asked, confused.

“Sorry, I’m back on the spit or swallow question,” Peter explained.

Now it was Tony’s turn to groan. “I thought we were talking about something else.”

“Yeah, something that’s not my personal and very embarrassing past. Now that I have the question, I can’t think of anything else.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine. So why would I do what again, exactly? Give a blow job?”

“Well, I mean, that too, considering that you’re still with Pepper and I’m 99.9999% sure she doesn’t have the right equipment for that. But I was talking about spitting or swallowing. Why would you do either? You said you don’t like it.”

“Relationships are about compromise Pete, even in the bedroom. And I don’t hate it when I’m in the mood for it.”

“What a ringing endorsement,” Peter said flatly. “Yeah, there’s gotta be some compromise, but that should be more along the lines of maybe trying new things that you may not have done on your own but are open to. Doing something you definitively, straight up don’t like in bed should not be one of them.”

Tony looked at Peter, perplexed. “I...don’t even know what to say to that. When did you become an expert in this?”

Peter shrugged. “You’d be surprised how much of my time as Spiderman is spent just lending an ear when people are having a hard time. And sex and relationships come up a lot because I guess it’s easier to talk to a random person in a mask than to someone you know. I try to just listen and not to give advice most of the time, since I’m not an expert and everyone’s situation is different, but sometimes people are in circumstances that are dangerous, emotionally and mentally. So I took a couple relationship health and psychology classes my freshman year in college and read up on some of these things to know what to say.”

Tony’s heart warmed, hearing how earnestly Peter wanted to help people. He smiled softly. “Never thought you’d use that on Tony Stark, did you?” he joked.

Peter scoffed. “Please, you were like, the poster child for a lot of these issues. I like to think you’ve finally gotten wiser in your ‘old age’, but I’ve mentally given you several high-handed pep talks.”

Tony was taken aback. “Oh? And what was the subject of these pep talks?”

“Mostly self-worth and your complete lack of it.”

Tony chuckled again. “Well maybe you haven’t heard, but I actually have an unrealistically high opinion of myself, kid.”

“Yeah, do you think that if you keep talking about it loudly enough, you might start believing it?” Peter asked, eyebrow raised.

“Excuse me? I am one of the richest, smartest people on the damn planet. I single-handedly created a superhero while a prisoner in a cave. I created clean energy that can power the planet and I’m pretty sure I’m damn close to being able to end poverty,” Tony rebuked, getting irritated.

“I know, so why do you still feel like it’s not enough?” Peter asked with a shrug, pointedly not looking at him. “All those amazing accomplishments, things no one else would be able to do, but how often do you think about that instead of the few mistakes you’ve made?”

Tony crossed his arms. “Get out of my fucking head, kid,” he grunted.

Peter turned to him with a grin. “You think I should change my degree plan and become a shrink?”

“Definitely not. You’re pretty much done anyway and I need you in my labs, not consoling lunatics like me.”

Peter reeled back exaggeratedly. “You’re quite presumptuous, Mr. Stark, assuming I’ll be working for you.”

“You’d better,” Tony insisted.

“Is that a threat?” Peter asked cheekily.

“Definitely.”

Laughing, Peter settled back into the cushions and resumed his popcorn eating.

After several minutes of watching TV in silence, Peter turned back to Tony. “You know I still think you’re just as amazing as you try to say you are, right?”

Glancing at Peter out of the corner of his eye, he shook his head at Peter’s earnest expression. “No clue why,” he said wryly. “But yeah, I know. Thanks, kid,” Tony said, smile soft as his hand came up to grip the back of Peter’s neck before pulling him into a hug.

Tony cleared his throat and sat back before saying gruffly, “Now shut up and watch...whatever the hell it is you’re making me watch.”

Peter snorted but kept his mouth shut. And as he settled more comfortably under Tony’s arm, his back pressed up against Tony’s side as Tony’s arm draped across Peter’s chest, Tony had to wonder if this is one of the things Pepper had been talking about.

But as he felt the warmth of Peter pressed against him, felt the soft rise and fall of his breathing, felt the proof that Peter was alive and safe, Tony shook away the thought.

_____________________________________________________________________

So I’m starting to see a pattern - I tend to write like hell during the fall and winter and not during the summer at all. So apparently I have an off-season lol. Hopefully the pattern continues for the next few months and I can get a few projects finished!

#starker #pre-starker #starker endgame #fic #ficlet #yadds writes #idek #im so out of practice tagging #and i just don't care right now

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skrltwtch · 4 years ago

Text

Silverware

Prompt: on a first date and A is a werewolf and doesn’t know the cutlery is silver (Source in master list)

Word count: 4,897 words

Genre: Fluff, romance, supernatural

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

I buried my nose in the bouquet of lilies and roses Jake had bought for me. It was the perfect emblem of summer with its warm, sunny hues and fresh, tangy scent — and the perfect segue to the next part of our date. The first part was a visit to the local farmers market, out of which we were now walking. Coming here had been his suggestion. It was something different from the usual first date stuff like coffee or a movie, and I liked it a lot, notwithstanding my initial reservations. I liked him a lot after what I’d seen of him at the market. I felt like the place helped bring out a certain spark between us. For one, there was constant talk about planning for date number two using what we’d seen and bought. If that wasn’t promising, I didn’t know what was!

‘Thank you, Jake. I love it,’ I said about the bouquet.

‘You’re most welcome,’ he said, a broad grin brightening up his face. ‘And thank you for the flavoured olive oil. Makes me kind of wish we didn’t have this dinner reservation …’ His grin turned sheepish in nature. ‘But that’s what’s making me look forward to our next date.’

See?

‘Do you want to call for a taxi or walk?’ he said.

‘What time’s our reservation?’

‘6:00 p.m. on the dot.’

My watch came alive with a flick of my wrist. ‘Let’s walk, then. I want to walk off all the cheese I sampled.’ I’d sampled a lot. In my defence, it was almost that time of the month — and that other time of the month. ‘Do you know the way?’

‘Google Maps can teach me.’

The route Google Maps recommended was scenic. London Bridge looked lovely at this time of day. Its appeal was heightened tenfold with Jake by my side. Could you believe we met on Tinder? It still felt unreal to me. Getting this match used up all my good luck for the year, and we were only at the halfway point. Well, if it meant burning the roof of my mouth most of the time I ate to be able to quit the dating scene for a reasonable amount of time (“once and for all” seemed a little ambitious, though that would be nice), who was I to whinge about the hand fate had dealt me?

The restaurant was located within the Four Seasons. We had been overdressed for the market. Now we were … dressed. I was flattered as fuck that he picked such a lavish place for dinner for a first date. I hadn’t the faintest clue what it was about my profile and our conversations that made him think of a high-end French restaurant helmed by a Michelin-starred chef in a five-star hotel. I did try to talk him out of it (gently). It wasn’t about the cost. Food was one of the things I was more than happy to splurge on. It was just … I never had anyone think this highly of me before, and I wondered if that’d change if … and when … he knew the truth about me.

The host led us into the main dining room and to our table. An amuse-bouche and warm bread came together with the menus. The prices were as expected of the type of establishment this was. Everything sounded good, though this was my first time coming across some of these words. Looking up what each one meant would add to the time something would take to reach our table, and my stomach would sooner eat itself out of desperation.

‘Please don’t hold back,’ said Jake, sensing my indecision. ‘The price is not an issue.’

I did have to hold back. The coincidental timing of this month’s full moon and crimson tide amplified every-fucking-thing I could possibly feel to a divinely hellish degree in the days leading up to them. As it was, I could easily polish off a five-course meal by myself. If Jake wanted this date to go in a less chaste direction after dinner, hell would freeze over before I’d even dream of talking him out of it, first date etiquette be damned. Was the fact that he was such a goddamn catch helping anything? Absolutely fucking not.

‘No, it’s not that. I can’t — I can’t decide what I want,’ I said. It was technically true. I was torn between the beef (never mind that it was £98) and veal … and both of them at once. ‘What are you having? Maybe I can get some inspiration from you.’

‘I was thinking the turbot … or the pigeon. Yeah, I can’t make up my mind either. I’m leaning toward the pigeon …? No, the turbot. Or the scallops …? Fuck. I need an adult.’

‘Let’s choose for each other.’

‘Promise not to hate each other’s choices — or each other?’

‘Pinky promise.’

We locked our pinkies together. I hoped touching him would never grow old.

Once our promise had been sanctified and we separated from each other, Jake signalled for the nearest available waitstaff. One came over almost instantly. The restaurant was bustling with activity, a far cry from however long it had been since we arrived. She took our order in a cordial fashion, not making a bigger deal of how we were ordering for each other than it should be. I chose the scallops for him; he chose the veal for me. I convinced him to start our evening with the langoustine; he sweet-talked me into ending it with the rhubarb. The waitstaff validated all our choices with a knowing smile.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask — and I hope I’m not stepping on your toes here,’ Jake started when our table was just the two of us again. ‘How did you get that scar on your arm?’

It was a matter of time. And bless him. I would never be offended by being asked about the memento of what’d changed my life forever. I would be offended by an adverse reaction to how exactly my life had been changed forever. I raised my arm, giving the scar in question its time in the limelight: brownish-pink, leathery circles arranged in the shape of a crescent, the ones at both ends abnormally large and ragged-looking.

‘My ex-boyfriend’s dog bit me,’ I said. More like my ex-boyfriend was the offending canine. ‘That’s not why he’s an ex, in case you were wondering.’ I’d wanted to be turned. He’d been more than happy to lend a helping set of fangs. Sadly, the idea of us being cute werewolves together was yet another one of those things that simply sounded nicer on paper. It wasn’t all sour between us. We’d sometimes meet for romps. It got lonely sometimes, and it wasn’t like there was an online forum for werewolves to socialise or whatever. I doubted he’d have known of one anyway: he was literally an American werewolf in London.

‘Did it hurt? It’s such a huge scar. Did anything happen to the dog afterward?’ He held up his hands. ‘Am I being nosy? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’

I smiled in the hope that it’d soothe his worries. ‘You’re not being nosy. It was … okay for what it was.’ Euphoric. ‘The dog’s fine. It wouldn’t be fair to punish it for an instinct thing.’ Yup.

‘That’s good to hear. I think it’s a bad-ass scar. And I didn’t think it’s why he’s an ex.’

‘Thank you. Most people did. Yeesh. Give me some credit.’

‘I’m not most people … I hope.’ He smirked. The apples of his cheeks turned pink.

He really wasn’t. And I wanted so badly to tell him the truth there and then to see if that’d still hold true in the face of a bombshell like that. I had yet to tell anyone about my lycanthropy: if movies, television shows, books, etc., were anything to go by, I’d assume most people would react with fear or disgust, or both. Chris had been thoroughly flabbergasted when I reacted the way I did to learning why he always turned down my suggestions to go stargazing on nights with full moons. I got what I wanted … eventually.

Maybe I should tell Jake sooner than later. Separate the wheat from the chaff. Then I wouldn’t have wasted my time having pined for someone who thought I was some kind of freak of nature.

That conversation — or rather, thinking about that conversation would have to wait, as our starter, bearing a strong resemblance to a flower arrangement with colours befitting the season, had arrived. Food was always the perfect diversion. So would the inevitable back-and-forth about who could have the third and last langoustine. Splitting it was not an option, for one piece was as big as my thumb. I loved the portion sizes of frou-frou fancy food. So much bang for one’s buck.

‘Bon appétit,’ said Jake. ‘That’s one of … four French phrases I know. The other three are “bonjour”, “omelette du fromage”, and — I can’t say the last one in a public place.’

‘Is it by any chance … “voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir”?’ I made no effort whatsoever to lower my volume — or maintain a straight face. Brazenness blazed through my cheeks.

He put a hand on his chest, feigning surprise. ‘Well!’ He tittered. ‘Since you asked ever so nicely, and in French … This is why your choices tonight have been shellfish, isn’t it?’

‘You got me.’

‘Looking at their portion sizes, I don’t think your plan’s going to work very well. Not that I’d need the help of — shut up, Jake.’

‘Keep going, Jake’ was what I’d have said and wanted if my stomach hadn’t started getting on my case for letting good food get cold. (‘Rubbery lobster? Gross!’) There was something hot about someone like Jake — a posh, proper Englishman, the polar opposite of Chris … okay, no, stop bringing him up, stop thinking about him, goddammit — talking openly, confidently, about his prowess. Such words … coming out of his mouth … in that accent … I quickly pressed my legs together to quell any desires. Which hunger of mine was responsible for this?

Wanting to satiate the one appetite I could at this very moment without earning myself prison time for my troubles, I said, ‘Bon appétit, Jake’, and picked up my fork … which promptly fell onto my plate with the fucking loudest clang. The smell of burning flesh tickled my nostrils — my burning flesh. My fingers were sizzling where the fork touched them. Sizzling! I prayed it was only my nose that could pick up this delectable aroma.

I stared at the cutlery. Trust a high-end French restaurant helmed by a Michelin-starred chef in a five-star hotel to use real silverware, not that cheap silver-plated shit. I prodded the fork handle — and withdrew my finger immediately. Not one of my finer moments. Please don’t tell me Jake saw it.

‘Is everything okay?’ said Jake.

Ah, fuck.

‘Yeah,’ I said, examining my palm. Good news: the burn hadn’t healed and wasn’t healing as quickly as my wounds and injuries (not that I had many of them) did after I was turned, so that was one less question to dodge. I didn’t want to keep lying to Jake. I didn’t like that I had been. How would I explain the absence of a second-degree burn that existed mere seconds ago anyway? Bad news: was this never going to heal because of what caused it? I had been so careful with silver since I was turned. How would I explain a perpetual second-degree burn? Would it out me as a werewolf to people who knew what to look for? Was now really the time for Twenty Questions?

Noticing Jake had been waiting on me to provide some kind of elucidation on my well-being, I said, ‘I guess I have a silver allergy. Can you believe it? Who’s allergic to silver?’

He didn’t need to say, ‘What kind of allergy burns someone?’ for me to hear it in my head.

‘Can you eat, then?’ he said.

I shook my head. As far as I was concerned, silver was lethal. No ifs, no buts, no maybes. If a perpetual second-degree burn was the worst thing to come out of fleeting contact with the metal, so be it. I’d consider myself a lucky lycan indeed.

‘Pardon me,’ Jake said to the waitstaff who’d come with our entrées, ‘would you have any disposable cutlery perhaps? My lady’ — he did not — ‘is allergic to the silverware.’

The waitstaff did an excellent job of not acting like this very dashing gentleman had just dropped the barmiest string of words on her during her entire employment in this line of work. Even I didn’t quite believe it myself. ‘I’ll see what we have, sir, ma’am,’ she said, cool as a cucumber. After she finished setting down our food, she collected all the silverware on my side of the table and left.

‘I don’t think whatever she comes back with would help with your veal. I could cut it up for you?’ said Jake.

Oh, my God. Getting burnt by silver must be the universe’s way of course-correcting the unusual jackpot I’d hit with him. Good Tinder matches were a myth!

‘No, it’s fine. Thank you. I’ll manage … somehow,’ I said. The wooden cutlery the waitstaff had returned with didn’t inspire confidence in me to not fling a piece of meat or a utensil at someone while cutting into my food.

‘We could swap dishes. I’d be fine with the veal. It was in my top five earlier.’

I suffocated a sigh. His scallops looked more like an appetiser than a main. But what choice did I have? I could either eat the veal like the animal that put me in this position or go through the restaurant’s entire supply of wooden cutlery with nothing to show for the effort in my belly and possibly injure someone in the process. Neither option would do any favours for my image in the eyes of the guy I liked and whose bones I’d like to jump at some point, enhanced animal lust or not.

So, I agreed. I tried to draw out the meal for as long as I could. Between the teeny serving and the unwieldiness of the wooden cutlery, I was having a miserable time. Dinner had become a silent affair, a far cry from everything prior to this point. Contrary to the vibe I was putting out, the food had nothing to do with my dour mood. For the first time since I was turned, I wasn’t happy about what I was. Could I never truly lead a normal life? Did I have to lie to every potential suitor and fret about whether they’d accept that other side of me on top of all the intricacies of dating?

There ought to be a dating app for verified supernatural creatures.

‘How’s the veal?’ I said. I had to speak up: I wasn’t being fair to Jake by acting like a sullen teenager over something he had zero control over, and the silence was deafening.

‘It’s — I might’ve done you a favour. How about my — your scallops?’

‘As good as three bites can get. I can’t tell if it tastes funny because of the wooden fork.’

‘This has been a disaster, hasn’t it?’ He flashed a wry smile. ‘Can I be honest? I have no idea what possessed me to pick a place like this for a first date.’

‘It’s a nice place. And it hasn’t been a disaster.’ If anything, I was the disaster. As always.

‘How was the market?’

‘The market was great. I had an amazing time.’

‘Thank God. I’ll take one out of two.’

I reached across the table and placed my hand on top of his. He made things extra saucy by interlocking his fingers with mine. ‘Jake, it’s fine. Today has been wonderful. I should be sorry for making things awkward with my … allergy.’ Nope, that still sounded silly.

‘What? No, don’t be. It’s not your fault.’

It … kind of was.

‘How about ice cream after this? My treat. I’m certain the rhubarb will be so very pretty and so very … nothing.’

He hit the nail on the head. The food we had would do wonders for my Instagram feed while having done nothing for my diet. I appreciated his offer, though I was afraid it would take more than ice cream to fill me up properly … Then again, that was a problem that rested solely in my dominion, not his, and it was one I intended to solve by trawling the likes of Deliveroo and Uber Eats in the comfort of my underthings at home — the one true way to enjoy food.

I asked for the bill the second dessert arrived. I wanted to leave here as soon as possible. I had quite enough of the wooden cutlery. I felt like a child using them. And like I told Jake earlier, I was on the fence about whether to attribute the food’s slightly off taste to them or my unrefined taste buds. Even the rhubarb wasn’t spared. Dessert was supposed to be my safe space, dammit!

I footed the bill in its entirety despite his objections. It helped that the waitstaff presented it to me because I’d been the one who asked, and that I was quick with my card. Sisters watching out for each other, everyone. The plan was then to go about the rest of the evening as if it had slipped my mind to ask him for his half or even bring it up in the first place. It was the least I could do for putting a wee damper on dinner with my … me-ness. He was going to treat me to ice cream anyway. There. We were even now.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often went awry: Jake snatched the bill folder and, taking out his phone, said, ‘Do you have Paym, Pingit, or PayPal? Why am I only noticing now that they all start with P?’

I admitted defeat: ‘Paym.’ It might be harder for him — or anyone — to believe I had none of those apps than that I was a werewolf. Did I want to put that to the test? No.

My phone buzzed with the confirmation that my plan had been a dud. ‘Thank you. Now let’s blow this popsicle stand and head to a real one.’

We left and worked on our next destination outside the restaurant. The staff had to want us out of there as much as we wanted ourselves out of there. The time of day meant we had limited options: ice cream parlours in London seemed to think people would lose the mood for sweet treats the moment the sky turned dark and the air cooled. Inanity. We had to return to where our date started for the one place that was open at this hour. It was just as well: I needed the walk this time to clear my head after what happened at dinner. It hadn’t seemed to dull the shine of his opinion of me, at least. He was as chipper as ever. Unless he was a good actor and paid up as soon as he did so he could ghost me after this and find himself a date that didn’t have some bogus allergy to silver …

Me? Over-thinking things? Never.

‘Do you want to do takeout or eat in?’ I said when we found ourselves less than fifty metres away from the parlour tasked with plying us with ice cream for tonight without a say in the matter.

‘Let’s do takeout and walk back to Borough Station. Full circle.’

The place was crowded: the most logical outcome for the only ice cream parlour open at this time near a tourist hotspot in the middle of summer. Customer turnover was quick, however, and we left with our orders within fifteen minutes. As tempting as their sundaes and waffles — towering, decadent creations of sugary indulgence — looked, we went back to the basics after our overly sophisticated dinner. Unlike before, what we wanted came to us in a snap: for myself, a speculoos gelato; for Jake, a gelato, too, but make it salted caramel.

And this time, we could help ourselves to each other’s food. With permission, of course.

‘A fraction of the price, but infinitely better,’ I said.

‘I hope the same can be said of our second date.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Dinner at Chez Walker. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?’

‘I do think so.’

‘It would have to be the weekend after next, though.’

‘Why? Got another date next Saturday?’ I had a firm enough grip on reality to recognise and accept that a guy like him had to be neck deep in matches.

‘No … next weekend’s the full moon. I thought you’d know.’

I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘Why would I?’ I buried my stammer under a bemused scoff. Like, why would anyone — any not-werewolf, which, as far as Jake was concerned, was what I was — care to know when the full moon was?

He, too, stopped walking and looked me dead in the eye. ‘Imogen, I know what you are.’

I wiped my palms on the front of my dress. They were suddenly so sweaty. So sweaty. Why were they so sweaty? Could he see that they were so sweaty? I tried to defuse the situation the best — and maybe only — way I knew how: ‘Are we quoting Twilight? I’ll have you know that I liked the book when I first read it in 2007. And I thought the movie wasn’t too bad either.’ This was true, and I wasn’t ashamed of it. Any female millennial who said they had felt nothing for Edward Cullen was a filthy liar.

‘I’m not ashamed either to say I read the book and watched the movie. But I’m serious.’

‘Okay … say it, then. Go on.’ Was that how the line went? I wasn’t going to look it up now. On a list of things that mattered in this moment, accurate movie quotes was nowhere near the top twenty.

‘You’re a werewolf. And I know how this sounds, so don’t humour me or —’ His tone had taken on a jittery lilt, uncharacteristic of someone who ought to be humoured, ridiculed (what his next word had to be), or — my worst-case scenario — feared.

‘How did you know?’

His mien changed in a manner that suggested that wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. Fuck it. Chris had trusted me enough to tell me the truth after a handful of dates, and he did it because he liked me a lot and he wanted to get it out of the way as soon as possible so that we could move on in some way. (Me asking him to turn me was the real curveball of that conversation.) The least I could do, really, was to extend that same courtesy to Jake. I liked him. I liked him a lot. If he had a problem with what I was, it was better that I found out now that he did than many months down the road. There was no element of compromise to my … condition.

‘You mean I’m —?’

‘Right? Not crazy?’ I showed him my palm. The burn had taken about an hour to reach the healing stage normal people would reach in a week or so. ‘Yeah.’

‘Damn …’ He cleared his throat. ‘How did I know? I was brought up on a steady diet of horror movies and read way too many young adult supernatural books in the day, more than I’d care to admit. That, and my ex-girlfriend’s second uncle was killed by a werewolf.’

‘Shit.’

‘I’m kidding — about the last part. The first two are true. My ex-girlfriend was a vampire, and one of her uncles — I can’t remember which one; it could’ve really been her second — was with a werewolf when we were together. Vampires and werewolves get along quite well, actually.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘How the tables have turned … I’m not.’ He went through his phone with his free hand and, upon finding what he’d been looking for, passed it to me. ‘Look.’

On the screen was a photo of him with his arm around a hazy figure in clothes that were otherwise in focus.

‘Drove me quite mad at first, thinking something was wrong with my phone. Then she went a little … overboard once, and the rest was history. She shared everything about her world — your world — with me. And I’m also in several online paranormal communities, so there’s that. It’s not all as hush-hush as one might think. It just takes an open mind.’

I returned his phone to him. ‘How did you figure me out?’

‘Your “allergy”. I had my suspicions about your scar. Your reaction to the silverware confirmed them. Allergies … don’t do this.’ He took my hand and stroked my palm. The sensation of his fingers on the raw skin was … electric. ‘I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position and you weren’t ready to tell me. What I said … just slipped out. I understand. It has to be fucking terrifying. It’s okay if you don’t want to see me again after this. But I want you to know that what you are doesn’t change a thing about how I feel about you. How you were turned is none of my business. The whole thing is, really. I did an arse thing. I’m an arse. First with the goddamn restaurant, now this. Way to fucking go, Walker,’ he said to himself quietly.

I flung my empty gelato container into the nearest bin, and then my arms around him. I helped throw away his for him, too. ‘You’re not an arse, Jake. This doesn’t change anything about how I feel about you, too. I like you a lot.’ His cheeks flushed deeply under the moonlight. ‘I was freaking out about this whole thing during dinner because I like you a lot. I am so relieved that we’ve gotten to lay our cards on the table.’ I fanned myself with my hand. Don’t cry, Imogen! ‘And because I don’t want there to be any more lies between us, it was my ex-boyfriend who turned me, and he did it because I wanted it.’

‘Oh. Yeah, it still doesn’t change a thing.’ His lips landed on my forehead in a peck. ‘Okay, I never imagined the topic of our exes would come up so often during our first date. Oh, well. Guess they had more of an impact on us than we’d like to think.’

‘Yeah’ — I chuckled, ‘let’s keep walking.’

I peeled myself off him. Our hands remained intertwined. Like dinner, the remaining walk — as short as it was — to the station was a quiet one. Unlike dinner, it was more so that we were simply basking, revelling, in the afterglow of our attraction to each other and each other’s presence. The world felt right again, just as it did at the farmers market.

The next time we spoke was on the train platform. ‘Thank you for the lovely time,’ I said, ‘and for being such a sweetheart.’ I waved my bouquet at him. It still looked pristine despite all the walking we did. ‘For everything.’

‘Thank you, too. I had an amazing time with you today. I can assure you that Chez Walker will serve larger portions than what we had earlier.’

‘I’m looking forward to it.’

‘The weekend after next, then?’

‘Yes,’ I said, grinning. ‘I’d be down for any time before the weekend, too, if Chez Walker is open then.’

‘I’ll speak with the chef.’

He moved in for a goodbye kiss, which I seized wholeheartedly. His smell and the sound of his heartbeat flooded my senses. I could feel his heart beating against his chest under my touch, thumping, thumping away for every second our lips lingered on each other’s. I had to contain myself and keep things G-rated and light, as such kisses were wont to be, though my instincts were screaming, baying, at me to get to satisfying at least one craving tonight. I was the one to break off the kiss for fear of going too far.

‘Just in time,’ said Jake, his eyes doing that thing they did whenever he smiled. ‘My train’s here. I’ll see you next week?’

‘I thought you said you’ll speak with the chef about next week.’

‘I realised I don’t care what the chef thinks. He’ll be fine with it anyhow: he doesn’t have to bust out the good silverware.’

‘Goodbye, Jake.’

‘See you, Imogen. Message me when you get home?’

‘I will.’

We waved at each other, right before the train doors swallowed him up. My train came soon after, too. I spent the entire ride home wondering not what to fill the void that was my stomach with, but what fresh hell the universe had in store for me in return for scoring me a guy like Jake.

#exophilia #terato #werewolf #monster love #monster romance #mine

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washymylifeaway · 4 years ago

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hi! do you have any favourite fantasy/mythology esque sakuatsu fics?

Haikyuu SakuAtsu fanfic recs: Fantasy Edition!!!!

To the anon who requested this, you are an ABSOLUTE GOD. I don’t know if you know, but fantasy AND mythology are some of my FAVORITE genres of ALL TIME. STILL, I saw the esque and I ran with it (cause there isn’t a lot of like pure fantasy or mythological journey fics ie. my poor excuse OOPS LOL and I wasn’t too sure what would be okay on this list AHAHA), so if it’s not the right kind of fics you were looking for, I’M SO SORRY :((((((( May this rec list be up to your expectations!!!!!! (And if it isn’t, feel free to re-request :’))))),,,, ALSO, ignore me switching between Sakusa and Omi LOL.)

As per usual, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for each fic before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

if you make me feel in love / if you make me open up by volchitsae (E) 6.4k // this is a reincarnation AU, and it has a major folklore/japanese-ish mythology (gods) element to it. This honestly MIGHT be my favorite from this list cause it’s just done SO well and I LOVE the reunion after the TRAGEDY :’)))) I’m trying to be vague cause I REALLY don’t want to spoil this fic at ALL, so PLEASE read it heh.

my love, take your time by bastigod (T) 9k // this is another reincarnation AU, but this time it’s with greek-ish mythology :’D However, the fantasy part of it is kinda on the back burner (ahaha oops LOL). It becomes more apparent near the end of the fic, but the build up to it is worth reading, which is why it’s here LOL. I love how they added Sakusa’s own memories concerning certain things, and how he collected pieces of them in the museum! The writing is so good, but also, I’m a sucker for Omi making lists relating to Atsumu hehe.

your flame will not survive in this cold tundra by awkwardedgeworth (T) 26.5k // this is an AtLA AU, but even if you don’t know the show, you’ll still enjoy it! I absolutely love this fic and the plot is really AMAZING and asihfkjahsdkfjak their DEVELOPMENT. Especially with the separation of POV’s in both chapters (and what we get to see which we didn’t previously) UGH,,,, it was so GOOD. (Their other AtLA AU fics are really good too, so don’t be shy, go read them as well LOL.)

one life, one encounter by bastigod (G) 5.7k // this is a japanese-ish mythology AU, with our first appearance of foxsumu. We do stan Kita-san and Sakusa being friends with one another in this house :D This fic was really cute and Sakusa is so baby in this (but in a GOOD WAY), and when he talks to Atsumu at first,,, HE SOUNDED SO LONELY LIKE I’LL BE YOUR FRIEND :((((((

give me a moment so devoted by volchitsae (T) 4.5k // immortals! YES! I really really like this one and I think that their relationship in it was SO cute. I am really into the idea of Atsumu being insufferable throughout Omi’s lifetime and them having INSIDE JOKES AHHHHH. It’s really light and fluffy so if you just want some love in your life, this is the read :)

show you my best disguise by volchitsae (T) 5.1k // this one has NICE Sakusa in it (which I think should be more common fight me) and their relationship with one another is actually good from the beginning :D I love how naturally it progressed and how we get to see the habits slowly build as they spend time with one another. Very good fic, but not lots of magic until the end LOL. (There’s also a lot of poetry LOL.)

both our hands speak for us and complicate it by volchitsae (M) 8.6k // MAGIC/superpowers :D FIRST, the puns are such a nice touch to this fic and SECOND we do love the yachi/yama agenda being pushed here. I really like the conditions Sakusa’s powers have, and how that added to the plot (and the ending for that matter, may there be a universe where they can touch LOL). Honestly, the magic is also kinda back burner for this one and it focuses more on relationship dev. but it’s still a fun read so I added it LOL.

Rain and Its Incendiary Properties by firtree (M) 24.5k // so we get some Sakusa turning into vampire backstory in this one, and the revelation of more mythical beings LOL. Bless Komori and tbh Suna for being some MVP’s in this fic, we do love the familial bonds :)))) But also, the knowledge at the end does give some second hand embarrassment so brace yourself LOL.

two slow dancers by orphan_account (T) 1.2k // AHHHHHH BLOND SAKUSA! Also, yes another vampire fic. What? Sue me. This is just a load of fluff and sap from Atsumu, and warning: there ARE twilight references in this one ahahahaha. (If you thought that with this many vampire fics on the list, you would be safe from twilight, you obviously thought wrong.)

crimson colored lotus by sieges (M) 16.5k // this was a demon slayer AU LOL. TBH I haven’t watched DS, but you honestly don’t really need to in order to read this LOL. It’s explained really well and the writing is AMAZING! It’s not a linear fic, but you can read it in order if you so choose. I know it’s a stretch for this list, but it’s just that good, okay? LOL.

how can I not be moved (by you) by Ann1215 (T) 26.4k // this has warlock Atsumu (with an actual REASON for his blond-ness that isn’t Osamu) and halfling Sakusa, who is eventually a sap LOL. I really love fics with familiars and animals so this fic was one that I really liked hehe. The ending? Embarrassing but we do love the love LOL. Also the second part with Atsumu’s POV, FLUFF like, yes please give me all the love :DDDDD

enchanted to meet ya by zantetsvkens (T) 4.8k // FAST BURN but it makes sense. I agree with the a/n at the end for the confession, so there’s that LOL. I liked this one because the tactful provoking was SO good and funny for that matter HAH. But Sakusa WOULD be more concerned with the window costs than Atsumu’s wellbeing (it had to have been said).

when morning comes we'll be safe by bestcarrot (T) 2.7k // another demon slayer AU even though I’ve never read or watched ds? Yes. Again, sue me. I know it’s teeeeeeechnically a stretch BUT fox demon Atsumu...... (Also it’s written so well I felt like I needed to add it okay? :’)))))) AND yes, I WAS holding onto the no character death (YOU SHOULD TOO), the close ending was scary.

a boy is a thing with fangs by unthank (T) 3.5k // foxsumu! ngl I’ll just be straight up honest with you all, I added this for the response Sakusa has to Atsumu when they’re watching SunaOsa play shogi in the next fic LOL. I thought it was so funny and perfect for that moment please. Just,,,, forgive me once AHAHAH.

Falling For You (Literally) by Anubis_2701 (T) 6.5k // clumsy Atsumu makes me feel some type of way LOL. This is another NICE, soft Sakusa fic (like i said we need more: me pretending like I don’t see the tag for it LOL) and it’s just really cute. There’s some medical tings that occur (cause Omi is literally a magical medic LOL), but it’s just very FLUFF hehe.

The curse of a blessing by basinnit (E) 7.8k // CHECKING WARNINGS AND TAGS!!!!!!! I felt like I knew what was going to happen, but DENIAL IS NICE OKAY. Honestly, it seems short with it’s 7.8k word count, but with the number of mental breaks you’re gonna need,,,, it’ll seem long. Also, yes Atsumu punching people (one person in particular) because I would’ve too and I love that person >:((((( It looks scary and confusing with the tags, but I’d read it anyway LOL. (If you’re wondering, the magic is that Suna and Sakusa are warlocks LOL.)

The Fox Prince by cinnamonlove (T) 13.1k // okay there are some INSULTS thrown (and lots of cursing LOL) and so TW: LOTTA CURSE WORDS. Aside from that, we see once again MVP Komori making an appearance, but also vulnerable SakuAtsu near the end :0 It’s definitely an interesting fic, so that’s why it’s here LOL. (Also it’s like fake foxsumu but not really,,,, you’ll understand.)

the echoing halls by ohwickedsoul (T) 11.7k // GAH THIS ONE WAS SO GOOD. To read it though, some background knowledge (or google LOL) is needed cause the mythology references are very strong in this one. But I love when Sakusa was so desperate (honor’d light AUAHFKJDHFKJS) and Atsumu was aboutta (basically) punch him LOL. V GOOD V CUTE IN LOVE? I AM.

Did I just take this ask as an excuse to read a crap ton of fantasy/mythology AUs instead of doing any of my other work? Yes, yes I did. Also, I know it’s kinda short (LOL NOT ME SAYING THIS but I did NOT (surprising IK) put some of the fics I liked D:), but I tried to REALLY narrow it down a bit hehe. I hope I didn’t miss too many good ones, and I’m sorry for not really staying on ‘topic’ LOL. I realized while re-reading these that a lot of them are just Atsumu like meeting Sakusa by chance and being like dang, he’s hot. Gotta bother him forever ig? Thank you for the ask, it was really fun and I hope you liked the fics hehe :)

#anon reply #SakuAtsu #haikyuu fanfic rec #haikyuu fic recs #Haikyuu fanfic recs #hq fic rec #fic rec #japanese mythology #fantasy #haikyuu #anime #manga #I love these fics #thank you for the ask #it made me really happy #i hope you like them #LOL #rye rec reply

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metaphorical-love-for-a-car · 5 years ago

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Sleep Is For The Weak-- Malcolm Bright x Reader

Prompts; “If you’re staring at me like that, I can only assume I did something unintentionally embarrassing.” // “Why do I watch scary things late at night? I’ve doomed myself doing this.” (from the lovely @witterprompts)

Warnings; tiniest bit of swearing, but that’s about it

Word Count; 1.6k

Malcolm sat on his couch with a warm mug of tea in his hands. His eyes quickly bounced back and forth between the papers and pictures scattered across his coffee table. The recent case had been confusing. Many twists and turns made it difficult for him to pin an exact identification on the murderer, unlike what he had done with many in the past. This criminal, however, didn’t match any of his usual profiles. Each murder was different. There were no connections. It was driving him insane.

The detective practically leapt at his phone when it buzzed, desperately hoping it was a member of the team informing him with a new piece of the increasingly difficult puzzle they were all trying to solve. His brows furrowed when he read your name on the screen.

(Y/N) 3:15AM: sup bitch

Malcolm rolled his eyes and tossed his phone back to the opposite end of the couch. He was rereading the case file for the millionth time when his phone buzzed again.

(Y/N) 3:18AM: I know you’re awake, and it’s rude to ignore people ya know

He sighed, turning his phone on silent. Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to clear his mind. You had known Malcolm since childhood, and you were with him through thick and thin. But he had guidelines on personal relationships, not allowing himself to get close to anyone. You understood. The man had been through hell and back, and you usually gave him the space he needed. You were used to not hearing from him for weeks on end, especially when he was working on a case. Tonight, though? That’s a different story.

Malcolm tensed when he heard another tink! come from the opposite end of his apartment. The noise had relentlessly interrupted his train of thought for the past ten minutes, and he was growing tired of it. He pushed himself away from the couch, carefully listening for the source of the sound. Malcolm frowned as he crept his way into his bedroom. The sound was caused by something repetitively hitting the large window. His brows knitted together.

Were those... coins? He stepped closer to the glass, peering down to the sidewalk below. Your face lit up when you realized that your plan had worked. Waving your arms around, you could practically feel the daggers Malcolm was glaring at you with. He disappeared from the window, and you scurried over to the door.

You wasted no time when he snatched the door open, bounding up the stairs and into his apartment. “Are you out of your mind? How long have you been standing out there?” Malcolm called after you. After trudging up the stairs and making sure the door was locked, he found you already rummaging through his pantry. You froze like a deer in headlights and flashed him a sheepish smile. “Bottom cabinet to the left of the stove,” he answered your unspoken question.

“Ah! So, you did some reorganizing?” you teased. Pulling open the cabinet, you couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling in your heart when you realized that he had dedicated a little place for all of the snacks you had left with him. You grabbed the box of hot chocolate mix and set to work. “To answer your questions... Yes, and I think about thirty minutes? Don’t know, my phone died after about fifteen minutes of trying to get you to answer. Then I just stood there for a while. I think people assumed I was homeless or something because they started giving me loose change, which I used to get your attention.” Malcolm raised a brow. He was obviously biting back a wise-ass comment. “Go ahead, let me have it,” you sighed. A light laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head. Malcolm crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter.

“No, it’s nothing... I was just going to point out that it’s a likely assumption, considering you’re in your pajamas and look like you were attacked by a flock of pigeons-- again-- though, without the feathers.” You gasped, punching his shoulder.

“Those things are little demons, and you know it!” His head tilted back with laughter, and your annoyance disappeared at the sight. Malcom caught your gaze. You quickly looked away, returning your attention to the hot chocolate. He hummed, and a playful grin crossed his features.

“If you’re staring at me like that, I can only assume I did something unintentionally embarrassing.” You scoffed. Pushing a mug of hot chocolate into his hands, you took a sip of your own.

“No, it’s just...” You paused, shaking your head. “It makes me happy when you’re happy.” Awkward tension filled the room as you avoided his gaze. Malcolm bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of how to respond. He sucked in a breath and took a few steps toward the living room, motioning you to follow.

“So, tell me, what are you doing out this late?” Your shoulders relaxed at the subject change. You plopped on the couch, snickering as he shot you a warning glare. You knew very well how expensive everything in his apartment was, and you would never do anything to mess something up... but you liked to tread along the thin ice just to elicit a reaction out of him. ‘I really should be more careful. I don’t think he’s noticed the wine stain on the corner of his Neiman Marcus blanket. I mean, it’s not that bad. Just a small little splotch..” You blinked rapidly, dismissing the thoughts. Malcolm raised a brow but didn’t mention it. You took another sip of your hot chocolate.

“I had a Freddy Krueger marathon. Watched all eight movies. I mean, why do I watch scary things late at night? I’ve doomed myself doing this,” you groaned, rubbing your face. “Won’t be able to sleep for a week.” Malcolm snorted.

“If I remember correctly, you always claimed that ‘sleep is for the weak.’”

“And I am very, very weak,” you muttered, loudly sipping your drink to aggravate Malcolm. He rolled his eyes at your antics. You asked how the case was coming along, occasionally nodding as Malcolm ranted about it. You scooted toward the edge of the couch and peered at the photographs. You grimaced at the gore before knitting your brows together. You were beyond confused. They seemed... oddly familiar. A few moments passed before you started laughing. You gave Malcolm an incredulous look. “Ok, seriously, how did you know?” It was his turn to look confused. You rolled your eyes. “How did you know that I had watched Nightmare on Elm Street before I came over here?” When he didn’t reply, you leaned back into the couch with a groan. “Come on, Malcolm! I caught your prank. Admit it already. These pictures aren’t from your case, they’re from the movie.” Malcolm’s face paled as a dozen emotions flashed across his features. He grabbed your wrist, urgency running rampant in his wide eyes.

“Tell me what you mean. Now.” Your jaw slacked, but you quickly nodded and set your hot chocolate aside. The playful atmosphere quickly gave way to dread. You had him arrange them in order of who had been killed first. Your stomach sank as he rearranged them, not wanting your silly theory to turn into reality. When he gave you a nod, you cleared your throat and pointed at each one as you spoke.

“Everyone highly resembles the characters from the movie. She looks Tina, who was killed by Freddy slashing her with his knife-glove-thing. He looks like Rod, who was hung by Freddy. He looks like Glen. Glen got killed because Freddy flung him up in a fountain of blood? I don’t know. It was weird.” You paused, brows knitting together. You had Malcolm unlock his phone since yours was dead, and you began Googling a picture. “This was the last victim of the movie, Marge Thompson. She got smothered after Freddy was set on fire.” Malcolm snatched his phone from you, jumping to his feet. He paced through the living room. Everything was falling into place, and he was finally able to set a profile. He suddenly stopped pacing and laughed. It wasn’t out of humor, but out of victory. Malcolm looked to you with a bright smile, pulling you up from the couch.

“You’re a genius!” He pulled you into a hug, and you couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling in your chest. You were about to make a quip about him saying you were out of your mind earlier that night but got interrupted before you had the chance. Malcolm had broken the embrace, only to press his lips to yours. You hardly registered it was happening before you melted into his touch. He pulled away and held his breath, eyes searching your face. You smiled and cupped his cheek.

“As much as I’d love for this moment to last longer, I think you should probably call Gil before somebody gets fired-- literally.” Malcolm’s eyes widened as he nodded. He grabbed his phone on his way towards the door. He paused, standing in the doorway.

“Will you be here when I get back?” A smirk quirked the corner of your lips.

“Where else am I gonna go? My phone’s dead, so I can’t exactly call an Uber.” Malcolm snorted, shaking his head. He glanced at you from over his shoulder. Your gaze softened. You had known Malcolm long enough to read his expressions. He wasn’t just nervous about getting rejected. He was afraid that he might be loosing your friendship because of your actions, and he had already lost enough in his lifetime. “I’ll be here.” You caught Malcolm’s face brightening before he disappeared down the stairs.

~*~*~

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sagamemes · 4 years ago

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goodnight moon — valley girl, part two. here and below the cut, you can find 100+ lines of dialogue from the next two-ish videos of the series—topcs largely around care, advice and chatter, with some chaotic energy and room for serious conversations mixed in. edited for roleplay purposes, feel free to change around whatever you feel the need to to make it fit your muse better—there’s a lot of gendered language and pet names here.

❝ we can't afford to keep a snake in the grass. ❞

❝ i even put glitter as the lock screen. ❞

❝ lay the compliments thick on his ' natural ' [feature], and you'll be in the clear. ❞

❝ are you comfortable, babe? can i get you any extra pillows or blankets? ❞

❝ narrowly saving him from shock-induced death, talk about a meet-cute. ❞

❝ i love your dresses. ❞

❝ if you were in lord of the rings, you would be legolas. ❞

❝ this one is scandalous, but i know you can pull it off. ❞

❝ just pretend to be innocently touching up your lipstick—but actually, check out who's behind you in the reflection. ❞

❝ you literally see your life flash before your eyes every time you go even just one flight of stairs. ❞

❝ it's not about what i think, or what they think, or what anybody else thinks—what do you think? ❞

❝ i think that's what's most important to me in a bath product: i like to feel like an amoeba. ❞

❝ i noticed your highlighter was looking a little dull. do you mind if i fix that, babe? ❞

❝ i'm all too familiar with how you like to party. ❞

❝ [name] did call and text a /bunch/ last night. ❞

❝ you're so good at cutting avocados. ❞

❝ no, she's not gonna be there. i made sure of it. ❞

❝ i value you. not just as my client but as my friend. ❞

❝ and you know what? i have another little party tip to share with you. ❞

❝ you are so powerful. and majestic. ❞

❝ you look like nancy drew, cracking the case. ❞

❝ what would you like to be eating for breakfast? ❞

❝ oh my gosh, i just wanna live inside this thing. ❞

❝ i know i saved something you're gonna be so gaga over, if i can find it... ❞

❝ you don't have to hold back. ❞

❝ you know what... just tell me when to stop pouring. ❞

❝ it's not my fault you said no so you can spend the night animal crossing. ❞

❝ don't worry your pretty little head about it. ❞

❝ you're looking at the girl who got a date via emily dickinson quotes. ❞

❝ ready? ...uh, do you want more wine, first? ❞

❝ i just want you to enjoy the comfort of knowing that every last thing is being properly attended to. ❞

❝ you have no need to understand them, because they don't understand you. ❞

❝ may she soon see the light. ❞

❝ the heels snapped off when you tried to do a backflip off the garage. ❞

❝ it's not for everyone. ❞

❝ for now, you can stay cosied up in your bed for as long as you want. ❞

❝ i've gone crawling back to every ex i've ever had. ❞

❝ everyone loves a good girl. ❞

❝ i think they like, broke physics to make this. ❞

❝ i'm willing to be your personal confessional. ❞

❝ i've googled it so many times. and on private mode, out of shame. ❞

❝ i will be at your side, every step of the way. ❞

❝ your secrets are safe with me. ❞

❝ we didn't really get a chance to chat with all the suits around. ❞

❝ i wouldn't worry about it. nobody takes him seriously anymore. ❞

❝ gordon ramsay would be so impressed. ❞

❝ gordon ramsay would most likely fall in love with you. ❞

❝ a dare, or? —just entirely off your own accord. ❞

❝ we totally have the upper hand. ❞

❝ it ended 20 minutes ago, and you're already plastered all over the internet. ❞

❝ with how much wine i drink and crackers i eat, i'm basically a priest. ❞

❝ clearly, you're not wearing that for function. ❞

❝ all you have to do is be sexy and have fun. ❞

❝ wouldn't dream of giving you anything less. ❞

❝ people can tell when you're scanning the room and it looks kinda social-ladder-climbing-y. ❞

❝ those who live in glass houses shouldn't get stoned. or whatever. ❞

❝ i'm here to take care of absolutely everything. ❞

❝ you used to be so close. ❞

❝ you know i can't let you leave here without you looking like your very best. ❞

❝ so do you have any sort of distinct feelings about this? ❞

❝ don't you dare go using that information against me. ❞

❝ i did get you a christmas card. ❞

❝ i know you're such a sweetheart, you never wanna be demanding, so i wanna be sure. ❞

❝ what can i say, i'm a professional. ❞

❝ nobody can tell you're fighting for your fucking life. ❞

❝ they love you back. ❞

❝ i'll be discussing the best possible deal for [you/us]. ❞

❝ no one thinks you have weird kneecaps. ❞

❝ i mean that's precisely what you're doing, but you never wanna look like it. ❞

❝ you would be so good at operating a forklift. ❞

❝ it has such a look of that like, ' widow who murdered her husband, at his funeral, loudly, vaguely weeping '. ❞

❝ let me just send this email off really quick—then i promise it's all about you, babe. ❞

❝ that's guaranteed to get you compliments on all night long. ❞

❝ snails love you. i don't think you can even fathom how deeply and intensely snails love you. ❞

❝ we can do tinder. you can leave the swiping to me, i got you covered. messages too, you know how good i am with those. ❞

❝ i'm gonna head up to the kitchen to fix up your tea. ❞

❝ i just wanna crawl in there and have a nap, you know. ❞

❝ let's definitely lie about everything. ❞

❝ enough about me, I'm worried about /you/. ❞

❝ good morning, princess. ❞

❝ i'm starting to see a few split ends. ❞

❝ nobody even notices how heavy you're breathing. ❞

❝ do you remember her? the last time we met her, you called her choice of footwear barbaric. ❞

❝ after that, [name] and i will whisk you away. ❞

❝ because you've been a client for mine for a little while now, i wanted to show you that i value you. ❞

❝ unfortunately, i am just now realising that this story had the exact opposite moral of what i was trying to prove. so just, scratch all that. ❞

❝ oh my god, the wine, of course! ❞

❝ what movie do you want on the tv? ❞

❝ thank you so much for trusting me. ❞

❝ i wasn't sure how much you were holding back. ❞

❝ i get it, i guess, but does blathers have a sexy jawline? i don't think so. ❞

❝ it's time to review the schedule. so exciting. ❞

❝ you're just a little too cool to be here. ❞

❝ not so much on the movie mood today. ❞

❝ i love him. i love him to bits. ❞

❝ i flew it overnight from tokyo. ❞

❝ it looks rude and honestly kinda desperate to stare. ❞

❝ how did you sleep? no nightmares this time? ❞

❝ you were asleep, i didn't want to bother you with it. ❞

❝ i swear you look prettier every time i see you. ❞

❝ it's okay that you don't know what a fraction is. fractions have no place in your life. fractions are toxic. ❞

❝ you have the world's most adorable kneecaps. no contest. ❞

❝ i can be quite persuasive. ❞

❝ perfect, thanks babe. ❞

❝ i'm honestly very impressed that you stuck the landing. ❞

❝ you know there's plenty of people who will do your hair cute, do your makeup do cute, your outfit cute, but how many of them can say that they can transform you into a partying professional? ❞

#sentence meme #sentence starters #starters #rp starters #starter meme #* sentences.#* meme.

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mryddinwilt · 4 years ago

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A Bridgerton Rant

Not that I needed encouragement to rant but @constantvigilante here we go...

First lets talk background as I think it matters for how I experienced Bridgerton. I read extensively in the Regency Romance genre. Like at least 20 books a year if not more. I have read and not particularly enjoyed 2 1/2 Bridgerton novels. I am a huge Jane Austen fan. I am writing my own Regency romance series and have done a lot of research into the time period. I also adore historic dramas of any time period.

I should be the target audience for this series.

Except I’m not.

Bridgerton is not a show for Regency aficionados, Janeites, or costume drama fans. It is a show specifically designed NOT to be a “regular” period drama. A show that from it’s costumes, to it’s characters, and story telling, is actively trying to break the mold.

But I LIKE the mold!

I desperately want more shows and series like the 1995 P&P or North and South or even Downton Abbey (which for all its soapiness is still a show grounded in a historical period). Instead I get Bridgerton.

Bridgerton with it’s hyper-saturated colors, it’s ridiculous dialogue, it’s vague historic period, and general fantasy feeling. Bridgerton, which feels so far from the Regency period that it might as well be a spin-off of Reign. The worst thing is that since Bridgerton is successful it will encourage copycats and diminish the chance of having good period dramas in the future. I just googled “Best Period Dramas” and Bridgerton was top of the list. Ugh.

To be fair this problem does not start with Bridgerton. It’s just part of a larger trend in the costume drama genre. I’m just grumpier about it because it’s Regency romance. This year gave us two Jane Austen adaptations in Sanditon and Emma. and both had elements of the issues that plague Bridgerton though neither at the same scale.

So what did I not like? Buckle up buttercup here we go.

General Ahistorical-ness- The series tries to center itself in a specific time period, they even give us the year 1813, and then proceed to ignore the time period. No mentions of Napoleon, a guy that at the very least the Prince would care about since Bonaparte is killing all his countrymen while he dances with Daphne. We get Queen Charlotte but no Prince Regent (the guy the period is named for) or any of the other royals. No mention of the War of 1812 or the Peninsular War. No mention of anything that would ground it in a place or time. Compare this to something like Poldark or Outlander where the characters are actively engaged in the world they live in. Bridgerton doesn’t exist in the Regency world, it just put on the trappings of it.

Ungrounded/Fantasy (except when it’s not)- I do think that the ungrounded nature of the story is on purpose. We are meant to be swept away into this fantasy land of pretty dresses, hot dukes, pop-music ballrooms, and consequence free sex (for the guys at least) Even the weather gives us a vague “summer” feeling (never mind that the London season took place in the Winter and into Spring and that by summer everyone was out of the capital because it was hot and stinky). I have argued before that the literary Regency romance genere is way more fantasy than reality and this aspect is in the books. So I guess I shouldn’t knock it for this. EXCEPT they had to go and add the pregnant debutante subplot.

The books don’t have a subplot about a girl needing to marry fast because she is pregnant because lbh it’s too real for a light romance read with a fake dating plot. By adding it the show just highlights the bizarre fantasy of the Bridgerton world. Maria (is that her name?) is literally shown the “poor people” to encourage her to get married fast. If we are going to be in fantasy lets live in the fantasy. Like the cartoonish element and the half-hearted commitment to a time period it creates a dissonance for me.

Costumes- A ton of work and effort was put into the costumes and they are in many way beautiful. But they are also just pure aesthetic. Bright colors (very bright), overblown trim, not a bonnet in sight (I cannot say how much this annoys me). This was not a case of not knowing the period but a stylistic choice. They kept a Regency silhouette but actively used colors, fabrics, and the like that had not even been invented by 1813. Contrast this with Emma. where they gave us a very bright aesthetic while also being highly accurate to the time period (like ridiculously accurate costumes).

Dances and music- Literally it’s Reign all over again. From the type of random couple dancing to the use of pop music covers by a string quartet. Bonus we get an outdoor ball at Vauxhall... guess the actual building with the ballroom was full.. smh. The choices are deliberate. They don’t want it to feel like a Regency ball room. Too which I ask “Then what is the point of the historical setting?”

Proprieties- They ignore all the rules of the time. Except when they need them to move the plot forward. For example Simon and Daph have to marry because the scandal of them being caught in the garden. But they were alone in several other scenes in circumstances that, at the time, would have caused the same scandal. There are lots of other instances but I imagine they are the kinds of little things that only someone obsessed with the genre notices. Also no bonnets or hats of any kind...shocking! Cartoonish- I found the whole thing to be a caricature of the time. The costumes, over saturated colors, and bad CGI of buildings contributed to this. But there were also scenes like “ the gentleman callers” that showed massive rooms just filled with guys holding presents as a means to telegraph “this girl is popular”. Because subtlety is dead in this version of a “period drama”. This could have worked if they were going for an over the top “Importance of Being Earnest” (with Firth and Everett) vibe. But the acting and script were played straight so it was dissonant. I felt like they wanted me to really believe that this was how things worked back then. All Regency girls are prudes- I know this is an artifact from the original novels but I feel the show plays it up by having Eloise be like “but how is a baby made” and making it a plot point that girls are left in the dark. Eloise’s mother had her babies at home and she would likely have seen farm animals. Plus girls then would be told exactly how and why to guard their virtue and would have experienced other women being pregnant.

Look I get that most people think that sex education was minimal back then but the truth is that they had erotic novels, drawings, sex manuals, and the upper class were more sexually liberated than is generally thought. Anthony sleeping with an opera singer is accurate. But it would be equally accurate for Lady Bridgerton to have a guy she met up with on the regular just for sex. The upper class weren’t prudes. Like there was a trend for awhile where the women would wear white gowns and get them damp so they were practically translucent. They did this at dinner parties. The Georgians (the Regency occurs at the end of the Georgian period) were not the Victorians.

Okay that’s probably enough. I only got halfway through episode 4 so there are likely other things I could quibble with (and I am well aware that some of this is quibbling). I am glad that other people like the show. I’m happy they are happy. But I really hope that the next Regency related media I see is not more of the same. So help me if the new Persuasion starts being marketed as “edgy” or a “reimagining” I just might cry.

#open to others thoughts on this #mryddinwilt rants #mryddinwilt watches stuff #regency romance #please don't at me #like i know people are all about this show #but i just can'#bridgerton

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generallybarzy · 5 years ago

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smile like sunshine

Introduction: ~7,600 words

mat barzal series

summary: A lot changes in ten years, and a lot changes when someone grows used to having constant attention, fans, and fame- so surely the boy you knew back then was long gone. Even if you had been the closest of friends that one month back in 2008, there was no way he remembers you, or even wants to talk to you anymore...

an: Here it finally is!!! I know, I know, it's super long. I was gonna split it up, but it made more sense to keep the intro in one part for the backstory and setting up the main plot and then have the rest of the story on the beach. I really hope this comes together like I want it to!

From the moment you first saw him, you knew you were going to be best friends; but what you could never know, at only nine years old, was that you were going to fall head over heels in love with him one day.

Looking back now, he was adorable as a child, but that wasn’t what your little nine-year-old mind was thinking at the time. All you were focused on back then was the sheer awesomeness of that sandcastle he was building and the overwhelming amount of loneliness that was overtaking you on what was supposed to be a fun, month-long family vacation. He was just a boy, caked in sand from crawling around on his hands and knees to construct what you thought back then was the most complex structure of architecture in existence, and you were just a girl, your desperation for a friend to play with outweighing your shyness. Your parents seemed too busy with the new babies to pay attention to you, so you had to find someone else to hang out with, and here was this boy. You had approached him hesitantly, just really wanting something to do and someone to play with other than your annoying siblings, hoping that he wouldn’t turn you away.

“Did you make that?” Your first words to him were spoken shyly, hesitant, and had him looking up at you, squinting from the sun through his dark locks of hair.

“Yeah.”

“All by yourself?” He nodded again, looking proud. “It’s awesome!”

“Thanks!” He glanced back to his work for a second before pushing himself to his feet and offering you a sand bucket. “You wanna help?”

“Yes, please.”

“Cool.” He smiled brightly, showing off a missing tooth, and you smiled back, it was impossible not to with how full of sunshine this boy seemed to be. You followed him out towards the water to scoop up some wet sand. “I’m Mat.”

“I’m (Y/N).”

It was really that simple to become friends. You soon came to find that Mat was really funny, one of the funniest people you’d ever met- and still to this day you couldn’t forget how green his eyes sparkled in the sunlight while he was laughing, even if he was just laughing at his own silly jokes. The two of you slaved away at building your sandcastle in the hot sun and laughing at each other’s jokes for what seemed like hours before your parents came over to find you playing with a new friend. Your parents and his talked- about nothing you cared about at that age- while you and Mat sat with your feet in the water, eating ice pops and getting sunburned without a care in the world.

You still thought back to that month to this day. It was still one of your happiest memories: those hot watermelon and ice pop summer days giving you sticky faces and hands and sunburnt skin, eating ice cream on your tenth birthday and skipping along the pier next to him with your moms chatting behind you, collecting shells and messing with crabs together, being splashed with seawater and laughing even though you wanted to be mad at him. That was your happy place.

One conversation you remember distinctly from later that month was when you and Mat were sitting on the beach, sifting through the sand and collecting shells. Well, you were the only one actually collecting shells; Mat thought it would be funny to sit there and throw little crustaceans at you and make you shriek. Eventually, a hush had fallen over the two of you, and Mat spoke up. “I’m gonna be in the NHL one day.”

“The what?” Mat laughed at you, but you genuinely didn’t know what he was talking about. You laugh at yourself today, looking back.

“Do you know what hockey is?”

“Duh. My dad watches it.”

“I like to play hockey. I’m going to as a job one day.”

“That sounds cool!” Your young mind couldn’t even comprehend having any adult job, let alone knowing at this age what you want to do for the rest of your life Obviously, Mat was a boy who had plans. “It looks dangerous, though, do you get hurt?”

“I don’t really get hurt much.”

“I bet you’re good at it, then.”

“I am!” You smiled and laughed with Mat and leaned over your pile of shells to hug him, the deepest form of showing affection you knew at that point.

“I’ll come to see you play one day. I promise.”

Remember when life was so simple that a sandcastle was all that was needed to spark the beginning of a wonderful friendship, even if it only lasted a month? Remember when we didn’t have to worry about grades and work and money and taxes? Sometimes you wished you could take yourself back to that month, so you could have a distraction. You’ve been looking for a distraction like Mat had been all your life- while your parents fought from the other room, while you stressed over tests in school, during heartbreak after heartbreak, while you dealt with pressure taking standardized tests or getting your first job, or moving to New York City alone only weeks shy of your 20th birthday during the summer before you started college. Every now and then you would forget about that summer, but the moment you’d stress over something, your mind just drifted off and daydreamed of that lighthearted smile, and those shining green eyes, and you hoped he was happy wherever he was.

Mat.

Damn it, you would have tried years ago to google him or something if you knew his last name, or even where he lived. Unfortunately, those aren’t topics of interest to children, so they never popped up in your conversation, and neither your mom or dad seemed to care enough to remember what they talked about with his parents, probably too busy fighting all the time, you mused.

The fall after you’d moved to New York for college, your roommate Amy, who was extremely welcoming and always made you feel at home, decided to introduce you to the sports teams of the city in an effort to get you out of your apartment and away from your work. It was just your luck, you realized later, that she was especially into hockey. You were vaguely familiar with hockey, your dad used to be a huge hockey fan in your youth, but stopped many years ago in the midst of your parent’s marriage practically falling apart. Now he only watched it occasionally, a few years behind on who was up-and-coming. “Hey, might as well learn the sport. Maybe one day you’ll reconnect with that boy from your long-ago summer romance!” She spoke teasingly, lightheartedly, always loving to hear the sweet story of your childhood best friend who had slipped away and may have disappeared forever. She was always one for cliches. You had told her many things about your time with Mat, but never used his name; no, that felt too personal, as if he was a secret for only you to know about.

“Oh, come on, Ames!” You laughed, but you couldn’t help but hope. “We were, like, ten! I don’t think that qualifies as romance.”

“Maybe not, but the way you describe him… If you would’ve met in your teens, that story would have ended with some cute, awkward first kisses.” She loved a good love story, and you smiled and shook your head. Yeah, honestly, you wish you’d known him later in your life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

So, eventually, she took you to an Islanders game, letting you borrow a blue hoodie of hers from her large collection of NHL merchandise so that you would look like more of a fan. You sat through the game with her, excited and interested and eager to learn as she kept pointing things out to you to help you understand the game. Despite it being an NHL game, you hadn’t thought of the boy that sparked your interest in the sport all night, until, about halfway through the game, you saw a name mentioned overhead.

Mathew Barzal.

You knew it was nothing. Literally nothing. There are plenty of other people named Mathew, idiot. But you couldn’t help the soft spark of memories in you. You pushed it out of your mind and went back to the game, even though something, just something was nagging away in your head. When you looked up to the screen above the ice, you caught a glance of the name again. Mathew, spelled with one ‘T’. A vivid memory pops to your head- you and Mat tracing your names and other words into the sand with sticks, just for fun, because that’s what entertains a ten-year-old apparently.

“I’m gonna be in the NHL one day.”

Mathew. One ‘T’. NHL. You knew it wasn’t that big of a deal, plenty of people probably spelled it that way, and you were probably grasping at straws, but hey what were the odds? A hockey player, Mathew. If only you could get a good look at the guy. Or… or something. You probably wouldn’t even recognize someone after ten years of not seeing them; you could hardly recognize ten-year-old you in photos! In your head, Mat was still eleven years old. Honestly, was there even a way to figure out if it was him or not? Ask him if he happened to meet a girl on a family vacation a decade ago? Yeah, and when would you get the chance to ask a professional athlete such personal questions?

...Well, tonight, apparently.

As you left your seats after the game, everyone happy and celebratory after a win, you almost had a heart attack when Amy grabbed your arm and shrieked. “Oh my God, oh my God, (Y/N)!” She pointed to her phone in shock, and you still couldn’t tell what she was reacting to, but calmed down, realizing it probably wasn’t life-threatening.

“Holy shit, Ames, are you trying to kill me?”

“Listen, listen.” She calmed down a bit, letting out a small laugh. “So let's just say someone I know, knows somebody,” You laughed a bit, knowing this was gonna be some new interesting gossip. “And they know where the players are going out to celebrate tonight.” She sent you a suggestive, winking look.

“No way. You want to go and… interact with them? Professional athletes? Us, talking to professional athletes?”

“I mean, yeah. Are you telling me you don’t want to flirt with a hockey player?” She saw the look on your face and shook her head. “Or! Or not even flirt. Just talk. Get a picture with them, or a signature? Or just let me talk and you can wave to them. I can promise you they’re all pretty nice to their fans.”

“You sound as if you’ve talked to them all before.”

“No, only one. And it was more of me talking and him saying ‘cool, cool.’ while he signed my jersey. But I always hear that they’re really sweet.”

“Well,” you thought for a moment. It would be pretty freaking cool to try and befriend a professional athlete, or even just pretend for a night that you knew them. You definitely don’t go out enough, you hadn’t really been to many bars- you had only turned 20 a few months ago and couldn’t drink yet, so what was the point? In fact, you’d barely left your tiny apartment since moving, and even though you weren’t one for bars or clubs, you were in New York City, for fuck’s sake! Might as well go out and live, right? “Alright, let’s go. But if we actually see them, you have to be my wing-woman.”

“Oh, hell yes.”

The bar you were going to wasn’t far from the rink, and according to a google search of the place, it didn’t seem too sleazy or gross- that was good. Of course it’s not sleazy, why would someone as rich as a bunch of professional athletes go to a sleazy bar? Because it was only a little further than where you had parked, the two of you walked together. As it settled in your head that you might actually see professional hockey players tonight, you started feeling a little nervous. Partially because you’ve never been in a place with that many famous people at once, but also because of the name that was still circling your brain.

“Hey, so I’ve had something on my mind because of this game.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re gonna think I’m completely crazy, but listen.” She looked up with a face, ready for your story.

“Give it to me.”

“Okay, so... this kid I told you about, that I met that summer? His name was Mathew. Spelled with only one ‘T’, I remember that clearly.” You laughed a bit, wondering how crazy you must have sounded to her. “And he told me he was gonna play in the NHL, right?”

After a second, you saw it click in her head. “No fuckin’ way. You think it’s Barzal?”

“Ames, I don’t know, I don’t know! There are plenty of Mathews who play hockey, right? But maybe he doesn’t even play hockey after all. Kids aren’t great at choosing their career paths, ya know? I just never learned his last name. I need his age or... something to identify him with.”

“He’s… like, 21, I think.”

“Yeah?” You paused. Why was this all actually matching up? “Yeah. So ten years ago he would’ve been eleven.”

“Holy shit, hoooolllly shit.”

“But I’m sure there are plenty of Mathews who are 21 right now.”

“Girl, holy shit. Look up a picture of him right now. If you had a summer romance with Barzy, I need to know immediately.”

“Okay, it still wasn’t really a romance, but same.” You pulled out your phone and typed his name into the search bar. “I don’t even know if I’ll recognize him after ten years.” Immediately after you opened the images tab, the first thing you noticed about him was the hair. Dark and thick and kind of wavy and looking extra soft in a few pictures, it did remind you of your Mat- whose hair had been full of sand and salt water and kept drying softly as he ran around in the sunlight- but you still couldn’t be 100% positive. It was after you scrolled past all the on ice pictures where you couldn’t really see his face well behind the helmet and found a picture of him- unstaged and off the ice and genuinely smiling- that you felt a strange spark ignite inside of you. Sunshine. His smile felt like sunshine. Maybe. Just, maybe.

Scrolling through other photos, your eyes caught one in particular. You opened a close up of his face and zoomed in a tiny bit more. Those eyes, shining all pretty and green in the sunlight. You could never forget them- not after ten years, and not after a hundred. His eyes, his chin, even the size of his goddamn nostrils, all the tiny, stupid details in his face… was this actually him? “Biiiitch....” Amy leaned closer to you and bumped shoulders with you in acknowledgment.

“What? Do you recognize something?”

“Kinda, yeah. It’s so weird.”

“So you think it’s seriously him?”

“I don’t know. But the last picture of his smile, I’d recognize that smile anywhere and… this. His eyes- that eye color…. I remember thinking it’s so pretty… even his fucking nostrils, Amy!” The fact that you took note of his nostrils might have been funny at another time, but you were currently having a crisis as to whether or not you were once friends with fucking Mathew Barzal.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re kinda big…”

“I… I don’t want to say that I think it’s him, that might just be me being too hopeful. But...”

“Holy shit. You might have been Barzy’s friend at one point. You could reconnect with him, and we could hang out with the players!” You shot her a look, and she knew to calm down. “Sorry. Alright, whether or not it was him, I’m still gonna get you to talk with him tonight.” You hadn’t realized that you had basically arrived at the bar, and you felt your heart start pumping you full of nerves as she opened the door. “You have my word.”

The bar wasn't too crazy- there was music playing overhead and that weird hazy bar feeling lingered in the air. Immediately you could see that there was a celebratory group of of tall men, some standing at the bar talking with each other, others talking with girls- some shared wedding bands with the women they were talking to, their wives apparently. So you figured those were the players.

“I can’t believe it.” Amy was still in shock next to you; you were too, but you needed to pull it together. “You and Barzal…”

“Well, we don’t actually know yet.” You pulled her into you by the elbow. “But please please don’t mention that to them, I don’t need them to think I’m crazy before I even talk to them.” She nodded back, but before either of you could comprehend what was happening, somebody- obviously one of the hockey players- seemed to catch her eye as they came into view near the bar. “A player you like?”

“Anthony Beauvillier.” She pronounced his name with an obvious swoon and you laughed. Oh, so this was that favorite player that she kept talking about. “Tito. Yeah. He’s cool.” She nudged you, smirking. “Oh! And he’s besties with Mat! I bet I could get him for you.”

“You? Talking to them?” As much as Amy liked to talk and wanted to meet the players, you knew she wasn’t the type to just go out and throw herself into conversation with somebody, and you knew she easily got tongue-tied- that’s where the two of you were most similar. But maybe it was just the fact that she was trying to help you out that gave her the boost of confidence to begin chasing after him. “Hey, actually, maybe we shouldn’t bother them. I’m sure they’re tired of dealing with fans.”

“We won’t pester them or anything. I’m sure they’ll see we’re not like, crazy crazy fans. Anyway we have a mission.”

“A mission?”

“Operation… I don’t know, Operation Find Mat Barzal for (Y/N).”

“Wow. Creative.”

“I know.” She laughed and smiled at you reassuringly. “Come on, both of us need to learn to be more assertive, don’t you think? We’re not annoying them, just telling them we think they’re cool, and maybe getting a picture. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” There was nothing you could say before she was- to your horror- reaching out and tapping Anthony’s arm. You were sure you looked nervous as he turned to look at the two of you, and your friend started rambling with a big starstruck smile on her face. “Hi, uh yeah. You’re cool.” You weren’t only feeling embarrassed yourself, but also for her. “I’m a big fan!”

To your surprise- or maybe not, he seemed like a sweet guy- he smiled back at her, and you almost melted under kinda his blue eyes as he looked between the two of you. He thanked her as she complimented his performance tonight and motioned to the phone in her hand. “You want a picture?”

“Yes please!” You took her phone for her to snap a couple of pictures of the two of them, glad that this guy seemed so chill and friendly. After the picture was taken, Amy still didn’t let him leave, no, to your absolute horror, she motioned to you. “My friend here, (Y/N), tonight was the first game she’s ever been to.” You could feel your cheeks heat up when he looked over at you, but couldn’t help but smile back up to him. Oh, he was kinda really cute...

“Oh yeah? Hope you enjoyed it.”

Oh. Oh, he was actually talking to you! “Yeah, yeah. I didn’t understand everything that was happening, I’m still learning, but.. it was still really fun!”

“Actually,” you felt Amy’s arm fall across your shoulders, and you looked over at her. God, what was she planning now? “(Y/N) happens to be a big fan of Barzy.”

“Oh God, Ames stop…”

“And I’m sure she’d like a picture with him. So if you could, I don’t know… point her in his direction, please? If he’s here? And if you think he’s got time for it?” You were in the middle of burying your red face in your hands in embarrassment when you heard him laugh goodheartedly.

“He wouldn’t mind. He likes talking to his fans.”

“Really?”

“I’m sure he’ll be especially happy to meet a new fan. He loves the praise.” All three of you laughed a bit, and you couldn’t believe that you were currently chatting with an NHL player. He looked behind his shoulder for a moment, before moving aside and motioning to the bar. “He’s over at the bar somewhere, by himself for the moment. Better hurry before someone else beats you to it.” There was a certain lilt in his voice, was… was he teasing you? You smiled- but it probably looked pretty nervous- and glanced over to Ames.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She winked at you and nudged you in the direction of the bar. “Go!”

You bit your lip to hold back the growing smile at the thought of getting to talk to him, whether or not he remembered you at all. You looked up at Tito with a quick “Thank you!” before snaking around him and finding your way to the bar.

It didn’t take you long to notice him- he had a recognizable face, and you’d recognize him anywhere after looking at pictures of him for the whole ten-minute walk from the rink to this bar. He was standing at the bar, drink in his hand, and scrolling through his phone, a lock of dark hair drooping onto his forehead. His skin looked so golden in this light, as if he was back under the sun on a hot summer day- and it gave him a striking resemblance to the boy you knew ten years ago. There was something so different about seeing him in person rather than as a photo on your phone- it sparked up a weird feeling inside of you. If this was really him, it had been ten years since you last saw him, and a lot changes in ten years of somebody’s life. It may have been a strange thought but, wow, puberty really hit him in all the right places. He looked… wow. His cheekbones, his jawline,…. Okay, maybe it was kinda thirsty- ogling him like this- but you couldn’t help it.

Not only had he obviously changed physically, but he might be a completely different person. He was a professional athlete now- why would he need you anymore? That much attention changes a person. He might not be as kind as he was back then at eleven years old, he might not want to be friends with you or reconnect.

That is, if this even is him.

You swallowed down all your nerves and slid up next to where he was standing.

“You really made it to the NHL, huh?” No shit he made it to the NHL, you thought. What the fuck kind of conversation starter is that? It was a painstakingly slow moment as he directed his full attention away from his phone and towards you, and could practically feel the shot of confidence and adrenaline draining from your body when his pretty, confused eyes met yours. Oh, they’re a lot more light brown than they are green, you noticed, and you wondered if maybe all your memories of his “dazzling, gleaming green eyes” were wrong. You realized how strange you must look to him- you were just a random girl, approaching a super successful, let alone attractive, professional athlete at a bar. He probably thought you were trying to get a drink off of him or get into his pants for the clout.

Maybe you were expecting him to look up and immediately recognize you after ten years and sweep you up into a hug like in the movies, but it certainly didn’t seem like that’s what was coming.

“Yeah…?"

He looked confused- his eyebrows furrowed up a bit as he looked you over, sizing you up or checking you out or just trying to figure out why this stranger was approaching him about his career choices. Suddenly, you found it difficult to hold eye contact. Of course he didn’t remember you. Who needs to remember their one-month-long friendship when they’re busy getting into the NHL? This was really starting to make you feel pathetic for holding onto the memory of your super short friendship for so long.

Well, you officially wanted the floor to open up and swallow you. Right now would be great. "Okay… that probably sounded really, really strange if you don't remember me. Or if it’s not even you. Umm, we hung out together in 2000 something…. 2008? The summer of '08?” You laughed awkwardly, trying desperately to lighten the mood. “We were, like ten, eleven?" He still said nothing, just watching you with a strange, unreadable look in his eyes. Oh god, you wanted lightning to strike you dead, NOW. Literally anything would be better than standing here waiting for him to say something, anything! Even if he just says 'Who the fuck are you?' It would be better than silence. The silence was humiliating. "Okay, I’m so sorry. I probably got this all wrong and look like a weirdo." Right as you started to back away to run to find Amy and get the hell out of here, he held out a hand.

“Wait, wait!" His eyebrows shot up as if he couldn’t believe something, his outstretched hand reaching back to run through his hair. "Holy shit. Is it… (Y/N)?" Your heart almost stopped right there, the moment he said your name, either that or it was beating so fucking fast you couldn't feel it. He said your name. Your name. He knows your name.

"Yeah.” You watched his face relax into a gleaming smile. Like sunshine. It’s him. You knew it now. “So I’m not crazy? It's… it’s actually you? Mat?"

"It's actually me." For the first time since you set foot in the bar, you felt yourself relax completely, and although you hadn’t had any alcohol, you felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Jesus, it was actually him. You crossed your arms on the bar and lay your forehead down on it. "Sorry, I just, it took me a second. I should have recognized you sooner.” You laughed a little bit into your arms at the sheer craziness of the situation. He still had that same warmth to him, the way he was always able to make you feel happy and safe, like when he distracted you on the beach while your parents were yelling inside or when he went too far trying to scare you with crabs and had to hug you and promise you he’d protect you from them.

“I can’t believe this.” You lifted your head to look back up at him, and he had a wide smile spreading across his face. “We actually ended up in the same city ten years later without even knowing each other’s last names.”

“Holy shit. Ten years? I feel old. Sometimes it feels like just yesterday.” Your heart soared at the idea that he still thinks of you- of the fun you two had together that summer. He took a sip from his drink, going quiet and just staring at his glass with a smile.

“You still think about it?”

“Sure, sometimes. I wonder how you’re doing, and where you ended up. I guess you ended up in New York.” He looked back up at you, eyes catching yours and gleaming all honey-hued golden brown and sending butterflies straight to your stomach. You could barely contain yourself, it didn’t matter that this was Mathew fucking Barzal you were talking to because to you he was still just your Mat, and that was even better. The sandy little boy with scraped knees. You couldn’t help but imagine how many people would kill to be in your position right now.

“I guess I just thought you would have forgotten about that summer, considering how successful you are now and stuff.”

He shook his head, smiling softer and reassuringly. “C’mon. I could never forget about that. It was my favorite summer to date.” He extended an arm and dropped it across your shoulder, pulling you in closer- no closer than two friends should be, but much closer than you ever thought you’d be to someone of his "social rank". It wasn’t any closer than you’d been in the past, but you were children back then. Now, you were young adults with hormones. He was a man. You would be crazy not to notice how warm and built he felt under his hoodie from obvious years of playing hockey, and there were dirty thoughts spinning around your head as soon as his large hand dropped to your arm and the dizzying scent of his cologne hit your nose. “You want a drink?”

You blushed and stuttered, shaking away any indecent thoughts. “Uh, I- I can’t. Yet.”

He seemed confused for a moment before laughing. “That’s right! You're a year younger than me, right? Aww, you’re still a baby. Can’t even drink yet.” He ruffled your hair gently, careful not to actually mess it up, and called the bartender over and asked for a glass of water, making sure to let him know that you weren’t old enough to drink yet. You could only laugh, remembering how much he loved to tease you back then. He obviously hasn’t changed in that department. “Ya know, you could’ve just DM'd me or something as soon as you found me. You didn’t need to dramatically approach me in a bar.”

“Well, I did kinda only find you tonight,”

His eyes went wide with a smile. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, like an hour ago. Listen...” You launched into your story as to how you came to realize that your long lost friend was NHL star Mathew Barzal, and how you didn't actually know who he was as a player. He actually listened intently, unlike any of the disappointing boyfriends you’d had in the past. Man, whatever girl he gets is gonna be lucky. “I wasn’t sure if it was you or not. I spent the entire walk here looking up pictures and trying to decide if I actually recognized you or if it was just my brain being hopeful.”

“Wow. I guess I’ve changed, huh?” He rubbed a hand across his face, still smiling that stupid, beautiful smile that made you all nervous, and your eyes followed, tracing over the familiarity of his features- from his eyes up to his hair and down to his chin, maybe lingering for a second too long on the way his lips looked so soft and tender right now, curled up at the corners into a little smirk.

“Not that much, actually.”

You hadn’t realized how intimate that moment seemed until he caught your gaze, smiling cheekily, and you were pretty sure he knew you were just checking him out. “Lucky for you, you got to skip past my awkward teenage years.” He lightened the mood, poking fun at himself like he knew how to do. Brushing the hazy hot feelings out of the air and blaming them on the rush of meeting your childhood friend after all these years, you reached for your water in order to cool the fire inside of you and the blush on your cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sure I would’ve loved to see that.”

You and Amy were over the fucking moon when you went home that night. You had exchanged Instagram handles and said your goodbyes to each of the men you had been talking with- she claimed to have been talking to Tito for the rest of the night and honestly, you’d believe anything at this point, after learning that your childhood romance- ahem, friendship- was with Mat Barzal. It took everything in you not to shriek like crazed fangirls. As soon as you got out of the bar, the realization finally hit you that you finally found Mat, and meanwhile, Amy was starstruck, having spent the night actually talking to NHL players and actually holding solid conversation.

“Holy shit please tell me everything! Right now!”

“Ames…” You could have told her what it was like to talk to him, disregarding anything in your past, the way he listened intently and made you feel like the only person in the world when his eyes were on you. You took her hands and looked into her eyes seriously, “Ames, we were right.” Okay, so much for not shrieking. Your friend threw her arms around you, jumping up and down for you. You couldn’t blame her, everything that happened tonight was crazy.

“You’re telling me that the kid you hung out with at ten years old has evolved into the one and only Mathew Barzal? Did he remember you?”

To be honest, it had taken everything in you not to try and drag him home with you or go home with him. He was intoxicating in all his warmth, the way his nose scrunched up, and his eyebrows arched when he smiled. The way he threw his head back when he laughed. The scent of his cologne had buzzed around your senses all night, clouding your judgment and making you want to say “fuck reconnecting as friends” and jump him right there. In fact, it still lingered around you after being pulled against his chest all night, and part of you wondered if it was the alcohol in his system, though not enough to make him drunk, that caused him to wrap his arm over your shoulder. If you had maybe harbored a tiny crush since your summer with him, it was heightened times 100 because of tonight.

You could tell that reconnecting with him- and eventually becoming friends again- was going to take a lot of self-control if you were gonna feel like this the whole time.

“Yeah. And he wants to catch up tomorrow. He said he’d DM me.” Amy was in the middle of shrieking in joy for you when, as if on cue, your phone buzzed in your pocket, and the first thing you saw after opening it was a message.

barzal97: Get home safe :)

“Girl, he loves you!” You laughed and shook your head as she shook your shoulder and patted your back, “You snagged yourself a hockey player!”

After you left, Mat didn’t see any reason to stay out longer. He almost couldn’t believe it- had someone slipped something in his drink? Was this just a dream? But then he opened Instagram and scrolled through your Instagram momentarily after DMing you and stopped on a picture of you and your friends, it was clear- he’d found you. You’d found him, more like. After ten goddamn years. It felt like a movie. You still had the same vibe, he could feel it in him the moment you were beside him. What was it…? Familiarity. Warmth. Comfort. Nostalgia. Whatever it was, it was you. After taking a moment to reflect on everything that had just happened, he was quick to finish his drink and find his friend, wanting to head home and prepare for his little meetup tomorrow.

As he was heading out the door with Tito, Mat knew he needed to confide in somebody. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

“Does it have something to do with that girl I sent over?”

“(Y/N)? You sent her over?”

“Yeah, I was talking with her friend. I noticed she didn’t come back after going to look for you.” Mat noticed the suggestive tone in his friend's voice and felt his face go pink at the thought of hiding away in a bathroom to make out- and maybe more- with you.

“No! Nothing like that. She was my friend when we were kids.” He had a serious look on his face, and Tito knew that Mat wasn’t kidding about this. “Really. We have a crazy story. We met ten years ago on vacation. We hung out for a month, and I haven’t heard from her since. I didn’t know her last name or anything, and she didn’t know mine, so it’s not like we could look for each other. But she found me.”

“Wow. She just said she was a fan.”

“Well, wouldn’t you think they were crazy if they told you that story.”

“It does sound like a movie.” He laughed a bit, patting Mat’s back. “So, what’s the deal with her now? Friend? Do you liiiike her? Do you like-like her?” The teasing tone in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

“What are we, in middle school?” But he still shrugged, sighing. “I don’t know. We’re going out to catch up tomorrow.”

“Ooh.”

“Shut up.” He went silent for a moment, wondering over his question. Did he like you? He wasn’t sure. “Ya know, she’s with me in almost every photo from that summer. That’s how much we were together.”

“Well, if you guys hit it off, you should date. I don’t need a competitor for best friend.” It was a joke, Mat knew and smiled at it, but he honestly couldn’t shake the idea of dating you. No, no, he’s only feeling this way because he hasn’t seen you in a while. It’s nothing but a bunch of resurfacing memories.

Hopefully, anyway.

The two of you really did hit it off the next day. And the next. And the next. And the next. You still got along just as well as you did when you were young, and maybe even better, now that you were adults and had more interesting things to talk about. He was funny, even funnier than he was as a child, and despite your original thought that the fame of being in the NHL must have changed him, he was actually kind of modest and shrugged and smiled with a pink flush on his face when you brought up his accomplishments. It was easy to be with him. He could talk and talk about his life and still keep you comfortable, inviting you to tell your own story, gushing over accomplishments that felt so small to you.

And that one catch-up date ended up being months and months more of friendship.

Friendship with Mat was one of the best things that ever happened to you. He was the ideal friend, he listened to you and kept an eye on you and pushed you out of your comfort zone when it was necessary. He loved hearing you talk about things you enjoyed and tried his best to find joy in your hobbies, even if he thought some were funny or boring. He was sweet, endearing, teasing. And it wasn’t long before he began bringing you out on casual outings with some of his personal friends, gushing and getting really into telling the story of how you were separated for ten years and reunited by maybe fate, maybe luck, who knew.

The only problem was that you wanted him to kiss you.

You wanted him to kiss you when you went out with him and Tito and Amy on Christmas, singing carols together and teasing him, asking him to sing louder because you loved the sound. You wanted him to kiss you on New Years, when you stood hand in hand in Times Square, shivering and smiling with red cheeks, but instead settled for a hug. You wanted him to kiss you after returning from his first All Star game in January, you wanted to congratulate him on being an All Star, because he spent so much time praising you and you wanted him to know he was just as amazing. You wanted him to kiss you when he was drunk on his 22nd birthday, all red-faced and giggly and dancing in the nightclub with a red solo cup in his hand and that stupid snapback on that made him look like a frat boy but suited him so well. He was hugging you to his side with one arm and, even like this, you were just praying that he would lay a messy, drunk kiss onto your cheek.

You just wanted his lips on yours. So, so bad.

But despite that, behind Amy, who was still holding onto the title of best friend, he was always the one you went to when you needed comfort or a companion or a distraction, or just to talk about certain things. Things like this.

A week after his birthday, seven months into your friendship, you showed up at his door without warning, slumping against the doorframe when he opened it. “I have a problem.”

“With showing up unannounced? Yeah, I know.” He was joking and smiling, but maybe you missed it with how stressed you were. When you didn’t respond, he must have noticed the tired, strained look on your face and his happy expression dropped. He let you into his apartment, snaking an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. It wasn’t an odd thing in your friendship, he was always a touchy guy, especially when you were down, and you always welcomed it. He pulled you over to sit at the island in his kitchen and sat across from you. “What’s wrong?”

“I got a voicemail from my parents today.” You were already pulling out your phone to play the voicemail for him. Ever since that one month on the beach eleven years ago now, you and your family had been going back every summer for a week, up until four years ago, when you suddenly had a summer job and couldn’t afford to take a week off. You missed the beach, sure, but you definitely didn’t miss the way your parents would always find a way to argue and fight. Now, they were calling you and asking if you could come along this year.

“I think I’m missing the problem here. What’s so bad about a beach trip?”

You sighed and lifted your head. “Well, I want to go, and I already got my boss’s okay to take that week off. I really miss the beach. But my family is just… so overwhelming sometimes. I could try to hang out alone the whole time, but I’ll go crazy before the week is over.” There was a pause as Mat leaned back in thought, considering his options. Was this crazy? Was he crazy for doing this? Definitely. But, fuck it, ya know?

“I can come with.”

You scoffed. "No way, I'm sure you have other plans."

"Not really. Not that week." He saw the look on your face, and he really didn’t want you to have to deal with your family all alone for a week. "Look, I'll pay for my share of the trip, and I won't bother anybody." You laughed. There's no way Mat could go a week without bothering anybody. He laughed along, glad to see you happy. "Seriously. If you need somebody, I'll be there."

And that was it. That was how you ended up on a beach trip with the one and only Mathew Barzal, eleven years after you first met..

The first few hours of the trip down were blurry. Your family, in true vacationer nature, decided that all of you, your parents, siblings, you and Mat, should carpool together. So, at 8:00 AM, you loaded into the car, your parents up front, obviously, your younger twin siblings behind them so they could be monitored, and you and Mat in the very back. This was definitely a bad idea, 100%, but you couldn’t help the giddy feeling that sparked up inside of you when you told your family you would be bringing a boy along. Or the feeling you got when you looked at Mat sitting next to you, looking worn out and sleepy after six hours of travel-rest stop-travel-gas stop, with four more hours of travel left and suggested he try to get some sleep. You slept through the rest of the day, only waking up for bathroom breaks and rest stops, until eventually, you woke up around six in the evening with your head on Mat’s shoulder and his body angled towards yours, snoring softly and looking ever so soft.

“Mat, Mat wake up.” You shook him gently, laughing at the way he was drooling a little bit. He blinked his pretty eyes open and looked around, a little dazed.

“Are we there?” His sleepy, mumbling voice was so cute.

“Technically, yeah. But we can’t get into the rental house until tomorrow morning. So we found a place to sleep.” He groaned, his eyes slipping shut in protest, and showed no sign of moving from his seat. “Come on, you’d rather sleep in a real bed than this car, right?”

Those words had him slipping out of the car, his eyes half shut and holding your hand loosely, dragging his feet the whole way as you led the way to your shared room. He looked so cute in this outfit, grumpy and soft in a tee shirt and shorts and his hair looking extra messy. There was nothing you wanted to do more than sleep, but one detail had you stopping in your tracks as you opened the door. Your parents had paid for three rooms- one for them, your siblings, and you and Mat- and of course, since your parents hated each other and apparently can’t stand to sleep in the same bed anymore, you and Mat got stuck in the room with one bed. Mat didn’t seem to care though, as he dropped his slides by the door and immediately collapsed in the bed, falling asleep almost immediately after mumbling for you.

“C’mon, (Y/N), get in...”

As you dropped down beside him in bed an appropriate distance from him and tried to ignore the sleeping beauty beside you, you began wondering if this whole trip was a bad idea. No, no way, you quickly pushed that thought away. This was Mat, your Mat, and you’re actually on the beach again with him. You fell asleep that night with a smile on your face, listening to the soft snores of the man beside you and trying to imagine what your week had in store for you.

Realistically, there's only one thing you can predict about this trip- it’s gonna take a lot of self-control.

#i feel like im really gonna be proud of this fic #smile like sunshine #mat barzal #mathew barzal #nhl writing #mine #my post #op #fanfiction #imagine #fic

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