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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

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forever, i choose you

desc: he’s always been everyone’s second choice, in every aspect of his life. george weasley just wants to be someone’s first.

word count: 3.9k

pairing: george weasley x muggle!reader

warning(s): idk you might cry, i sure did but what else is new. loneliness/discussion of sexual content/idk

A/N: i still have no motivation to write and/or read. and it’s the absolute worst. but i wrote the bulk of this story back in december/the beginning of january, and i figured maybe i’d try and write the ending and publish it and see if it’ll spark any inspiration in me. i’m real, real, real sorry if i haven’t gotten to your fics to read (i’ve got them all saved!) i just don’t know what’s wrong with me atm and it’s THE WORST. also it might evoke more emotion if you listen to this while reading this lil fic. thank you, to all of you, for your support and patience, always.

disclaimer: i do not give consent for my work to be posted on ANY other platform.

Seven-year-old George Weasley watched with wide eyes and a goofy grin as his father twirled his mother in the family space of their normally bustling and loud home. But tonight, the Burrow was quiet. Everyone was already sound asleep, his five brothers and his younger sister. George should be too, but he just couldn’t fall asleep no matter how much he tried. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his sheets and kept groaning, and it wasn’t long before his twin brother Fred threw a few pillows at his face, and eventually, George decided to get up and go for a stroll.

He hid strategically on the staircase so his parents wouldn’t see that he was still wide awake at nearly midnight, and he watched as they swayed lightly to the music emitting from somewhere in the house. It was light as a feather, the music, a small piano tune that echoed through the lower level, its sounds traveling effortlessly up the stairs of the home. Mr. Weasley dipped his wife and Mrs. Weasley giggled like some of the young girls George had seen in the village, kind of a nervous giggle, and he watched her blush. He saw his mother placed her head gently on Mr. Weasley’s chest and they both closed their eyes, and George wondered if they were happy to have a moment of peace without their seven children running around causing mayhem.

He wondered if they danced like this every evening, after everyone had already gone to bed.

George noticed a weird sort of feeling in his chest; he wondered why his heart was hurting. Was it because there was something wrong? But then he realized that wasn’t the case, for the aching in his heart came from his pure desire to find exactly what his mum and dad had -- a love like none other, with seven children, a home with multiple stories, and more treacle tarts than one needs.

He vowed in that moment, as he watched his parents from the staircase and tapped his foot quietly in rhythm with the music, that he’d find love like that one day.

He wanted someone to choose him first, just like his parents chose one another.

He brought his hand to his chest, as if to calm his rapidly beating heart, for the sheer idea of finding a love like theirs filled him with such excitement that he was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep now. Seven-year-old George Weasley laid in bed, ignoring the soft snores from his twin across the room, his eyes wide with wonder as he dreamt of the woman he’d dance with one day.

Twelve-year-old George Weasley wasn’t ready to date. He was only twelve years old! He much preferred to dream.

He knew when he looked at the girl across from him that she wasn’t the one, lovely as she was. He adjusted his Gryffindor tie and cleared his throat and focused on the Potions assignment in front of him. It wasn’t exactly a date, was it? He was in a Potions lesson with his classmates, and Snape. But when the cute blackhaired Hufflepuff approached him and asked if he’d like to work together on the next of Snape’s ridiculous concoctions, Fred poked his brother in the ribs and winked, as if to say, If you don’t partner up with her, you’re a right prat.

And so George did what he thought was gentlemanly and he said yes. He could tell by the rose pink colour that flooded her cheeks that she was smitten with him, and that she’d asked him to be her partner because she was smitten. And he had to admit, she really was quite cute and very, very kind.. and rather smart for her age as well. And he knew that she’d make some man very, very happy someday. It just wouldn’t be him.

He did what was asked of him. He measured out the correct amount of powdered Griffin claw. He made sure he and his partner had enough salamander blood for their strengthening solution. And he smiled back at his partner, though his heart and his mind were still with the girl he’d dance with one day.

The Hufflepuff tried her hardest to capture his heart, but it belonged to someone he had yet to meet.

She wasn’t the one that felt like home.

-- -

Sixteen-year-old George Weasley didn’t understand why all of his classmates wanted to snog people and move onto someone else without so much as a blink.

So many people were pairing off and lasting less than a week before moving onto someone new. George rattled his brain for answers, he searched the eyes of his classmates for explanations, but he couldn’t understand why people would want to hop from one person to another. Didn’t they want to find love, a love that’s long lasting and pushes boundaries and moves mountains and weathers the storms it meets?

But perhaps, he worried, maybe that’s where he was going wrong.

Maybe, in order to find what he truly yearned for, he needed to be reckless and love without really loving.

Maybe he needed to search less, in order to find her.

And so he decided, with much persuasion from Fred, that he’d ask that pretty brunette Ravenclaw to the Yule Ball, and he’d dance and drink firewhisky and maybe he’d even kiss her, if the courage he tried to summon stayed with him throughout the night.

And maybe if he did all those things, he’d forget about the one his heart desperately craved.

And for a little while, he really did forget. Perhaps he could get on board with this “love the one you’re with” mentality. Maybe he could just be in the moment without worrying about everyone else. Maybe he could kiss girls without feeling anything, maybe he could date casually, maybe he could be like everyone else his age and not think about weddings and marriage and having children.

“Georgieee,” the Ravenclaw slurred on the dance floor. She tugged on his tie and pulled him close. He could smell the firewhisky on her breath and his heart began to pound when she pressed her lips lightly to his cheek. “Dance with meeee.”

No, this wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more than this. He’d always wanted more than this.

George begrudgingly agreed and caught Fred’s eye from across the dance floor. The elder twin threaded his brows together and pushed the air with his hands, as if encouraging his younger brother to go for it. The Ravenclaw dazedly draped her arms across George’s shoulders and he sheepishly looked down toward his feet, but didn’t wrap his arms around her.

“George Weasleeeeyyyy,” she slurred again, hiccoughing in between giggles, “I said dance with meeeeeee.”

He tried to fight it, tried not to think of what he always did, but he couldn’t help it.

This girl was not the one. He could tell, because there was no love in the way she said his name. There was no true feeling in the surplus of kisses she kept pressing to his jawline, and there was no warmth radiating from her -- not the kind that mattered, anyway.

He knew, as he placed his hands gently on her waist and swayed with her to the music, that this was not what love felt like. This is not what home felt like.

He danced anyway, even though it was not the kind of dancing he’d seen his parents do all those years ago, and he allowed himself to think about what the rest of his classmates weren’t -- the person he’d hold in his arms, who’d be the mother to his children, who’s kisses would send him spiraling, who’s embraces would become all too familiar in a way that would comfort him in the darkest of times.

He allowed himself again, to dream of true love.

-- -

Seventeen-year-old George Weasley was sick and tired of waiting for the one.

It sounded kind of dramatic in his own head, seeing as he was only seventeen, but he’d known now for ten years exactly what he was looking for, and ten years seemed like a lifetime.

It didn’t help that nearly all of his friends had gotten over their casual dating scene and were now all enthralled with their significant others. He felt so painfully lonely, though he’d never admit it to a soul. He could hardly admit it to himself.

One evening, he shot up from the couch and out of the common room in a fit of fury, for if he had to see Fred and Angelina snogging in the corner for one more minute, he was quite certain he was going to explode from disgust. He was happy for his brother, of course he was, but he didn’t need to see it. Not as often as that.

He found Ron sitting in the Great Hall with Ginny, Harry, and Hermione and plopped beside them all before engaging in exciting rounds of exploding snap. But as the night grew darker and he grew more tired, George noticed the undeniable chemistry between his sister and Harry and his brother and Hermione. Though they all hadn’t admitted to one another how they felt, George had found it obvious, and he politely excused himself before he tugged his jacket rather angrily around his shoulders before he walked out into the winter storm, just to feel the cold air numb his skin.

He walked out of the castle, over toward the owlery, through the treacherous amounts of snow. Anything to distract George from everyone who’d apparently been hit by Cupid’s bloody arrow.

Ever since he was born, it had always been Fred and George. What about George and Fred? Was it because Fred was older? And why were people always lumping them together? Just because they’re twins? George loathed that. They were individuals too. He was always second, in everything.

In getting hand-me-downs from his older brothers. In being referred to with his twin. In lessons when the professors would call out their names for attendance, because F came before G in the alphabet. And even when it came to love; all the girls always seemed to flock to Fred instead, because he was more exciting. More boisterous. Less shy.

The cold, winter air bit violently at his exposed skin, and he reckoned it hurt less than watching everyone around him find someone that chose them, all while he was still waiting for the right person to choose him.

George Weasley didn’t want to be someone’s second choice.

He wanted to be someone’s first.

-- -

Twenty-year-old George Weasley didn’t know how exactly he ended up here.

He didn’t know how he ended up in a relationship three years deep, without having said “I love you” once and actually meaning it.

George thought he might’ve found her, his person, during his seventh year. She was beautiful and kind and everything he thought he’d hoped and dreamt of. Her soft touch, her yearning eyes, the way she curled up next to him in the dormitories late at night and held onto him as she slept -- it was everything, and it seemed to be perfect.

He thought that maybe, perhaps, she was it. But even so, he found himself waiting, still, for that feeling… the one on the staircase he’d felt so long ago.

But the pain of realizing that she wasn’t who he’d been searching for was more heartbreaking than the pain of him asking her to leave.

He’d been looking at her through rose coloured lenses and had been ignoring the truth that was right in front of him.

He should’ve left years ago, when that Gryffindor girl began to make backhanded jokes about the shop, and his dreams of becoming a business entrepreneur, claiming that she was only joking around.

He should’ve left when that girl showed up late to the grand opening of their shop, nearly a year into their relationship.

He should’ve left when he held her in his arms, and still didn’t feel comfortable beside her.

His heart ached for it, what he’d felt on the staircase at the mere age of seven. And perhaps he’d become so desperate for it, that he took something disguised as true love.

But the truth was that he knew, deep in his soul, that this Gryffindor girl wasn’t the one. He’d just chosen, outright, to ignore it. Perhaps if he could forget that idea that “the one” would smack him square in the face with an overwhelming sensation of knowing, he could have learned to love her, even when he hadn’t had that smack in the face moment when he’d met her all those years ago.

But it hadn’t happened, had it? He hadn’t grown to love her. Not truly, anyway. And she hadn’t grown to love him. Not in the way he wanted to be loved, at least.

Because it was more than just heated kisses and lazy days in bed and all things physical that he wanted.

It was about love. Pure, blinding, unadulterated love.

He stood frozen solid in the middle of his tiny flat and watched as that Gryffindor girl grabbed her coat off of the hanger and raised her hand slightly before slipping silently into the dimly lit hallway for the very last time. And George poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat near the window, looking up at the stars, expecting to feel sad at her departure, but in fact, he didn’t feel sad at all.

He felt hopeful.

He hadn’t found the one yet, but he knew she was out there, getting to him as fast as she possibly could.

Though his brothers had urged him to come to the pub and meet someone else, George didn’t fancy the idea of doing that. He was over that entire scene, just as he was in school when everyone was pairing off and moving on immediately. He didn’t want something fleeting, and he didn’t want something meaningless.

He wanted something true.

-- -

Twenty-three-year old George Weasley was certain that he was never going to find that feeling ever again, for as long as he lived.

While all of his friends were out at the pubs, meeting people and fooling around as if feelings weren’t involved, George was walking aimlessly through the streets to work. He was constantly dealing with the haze above his head, waiting for it to lift. He was turning down girls left and right and ignoring his brothers’ insistence on dating casually again.

He didn’t want to waste any more of his time on people who weren’t going to reach out and trace circles onto his chest in the middle of the night, or who weren’t going to dance around the kitchen in his clothes while cooking dinner, or who weren’t going to look at him with eyes so tender, it would render him useless for days to come.

He’d been waiting sixteen years to find his person, the one who would choose him everyday over everyone else, and in hindsight it didn’t quite seem like a long time. But as he cried silently to himself every few nights in bed, feeling the empty space next to him and yearning for the one who was meant to be there, sixteen years felt like a lifetime.

He thought for a long while, that maybe she was in another country, or maybe she was an auror or something, fighting her way through the monsters of the wizarding world.

He’d thought for a bit that perhaps he just hadn’t met her yet.

But as the days dragged on and he found himself lost in crowds, searching face after face, looking for hers, he truly felt as though all hope was lost.

And so George paced back and forth in the kitchen of his flat, biting at his nails and pouring himself hefty glasses of wine, keen on ignoring everyone’s attempts at getting him to come out.

Maybe this was what he deserved.

Maybe because he wasn’t out there, sleeping with people whose names he wouldn’t remember come morning like everyone else, he was just going to be alone.

Maybe there really wasn’t someone out there for him. Maybe not everyone finds true love. Maybe his parents had just gotten lucky.

The dull ache in George’s heart grew stronger, and for the upteenth night in a row, he laid in bed and gripped the covers and cried himself to sleep, his tears sliding down his cheeks the same way the evening rain slid down the window terrace.

-- -

Twenty-four-year old George Weasley stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he felt it.

That feeling. The one from the staircase as he watched his parents dance, all those years ago.

Heart pounding, chest rising, hands freezing.

It hit him square in the chest without warning, nearly knocking him over though his feet were rooted into the ground at the spot, smack dab in the middle of that cafe in the middle of London.

Someone was playing a slow, soft piano tune coming from the other end. People were filtering in and out, asking the man in front of them what exactly he was staring at and why he wasn’t moving. But George Weasley stood where he was, not taking his eyes off of you.

You were reading furiously, flipping through pages of a book gripped tightly in your hands, as though you couldn’t devour the plot fast enough. George watched with admiration as a gentle smile tugged at your lips, as your eyes scanned the words quickly, as you tapped your foot on the ground, in rhythm with that slow piano.

He watched with dazed eyes and parted lips as you finished the end of your book. You dabbed your eyes with a tissue and clutched the book tightly to your chest, overwhelmed, clearly, by the end of the plot. George’s heart soared so high at your passion that he found himself struggling to hold back the I love you that was pressing behind his lips.

You immediately took a long sip of your tea and placed your finished book back into your bag, only to pull out another and immediately immerse yourself in the next story. George laughed to himself, stunned that you were so intent on falling into someone else’s storyline, if only for a little while, that you hadn’t dared take a break from one book to the next. You merely jumped right in.

He wondered if his overwhelming feelings called out to you like a signal of sorts, because just as he was working up the courage to walk over to you, you looked up. You searched the room for a moment before meeting his gaze and suddenly, the world around you both stopped.

George found himself wanting to know everything about you. He itched to devour up any and all information you’d be so kind to provide to him -- your name, your favorite color, your birthday. He wanted to know what book you’d just been reading, and what about it had moved you so much to the point of tears. He wanted to know everything, but deep in his soul, he also knew that he’d have years to learn it all.

In fact, he’d have the rest of forever.

Your eyes went soft and George began to feel the steady pounding of his heart increase, and to his amazement, he noticed a gentle smile tug at the edges of your lips.

And he smiled back.

He’d been right all along. That feeling of finding the one would smack him square in the face. He wondered, as he peered at you now, biting down on your bottom lip and looking toward the ground, why he’d ever doubted himself in the first place. And he wondered when you looked back up at him once again and raised a hand to say hello, if you’d been smacked in the face with that feeling too, just like he had.

He resisted the urge to pour his heart out to you, right here and right now. He’d have time.

Perhaps today was just about having today, and recognizing that you were everything he’d been looking for since that evening on the staircase.

He’d tell you this one day.

-- -

“And what does… Lumox mean again?”

George laughed and squeezed your hands. “You mean, Lumos?”

You bit your lip in embarrassment and laughed, too. “Yes! Lumos. That’s the one that produces light, right?”

George brought your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. You two were seated inside a bustling restaurant in Diagon Alley, and he wondered if people passing by realized just how cozy you two looked together. “You’re more brilliant than most witches I know.”

You cocked your head to the side with an air of confidence and batted your eyelashes at him. “What can I say, Georgie? I may have been born a… Mugglie… but maybe I was meant to be a witch.”

George had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing. He couldn’t get over how painfully adorable you were as you attempted to pronounce these wizarding words and learn spells and charms and things as he taught you all things about the wizarding world. You took his wand and pointed it at your wine glass, pretending to transfigure it. You couldn’t, of course, since you weren’t a magical being. But George didn’t mind. He could watch you pretend all day long.

In all his years of studying magic, he’d never felt anything quite like this.

BONUS, just because i hate feeling sad asf:

Thirty-two-year old George Weasley rocked his redheaded daughter back and forth in his arms, until he was certain that she was sound asleep again -- her mouth open wide as she began to snore softly when he placed her back into her crib.

He peered up at the clock on the wall and blinked a few times before 4:32 a.m. came into focus. Exhausted, he made his way back into his room before sliding into bed.

And there it was again. That feeling.

You turned over in bed to face him, squinting in the darkness as your eyes adjusted to the scene unfolding before you. Groggily, you reached out and traced your fingers across his jawline. His heart nearly stopped. “Is she alright?” you asked sleepily.

George grinned softly and leant forward before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He whispered, “She’s alright. Go back to sleep.”

Though your eyes were already shut, you reached out again and took his hand in yours before bringing your lips gently to his fingers. “Okay.. I love you.. G’night..”

But you were asleep again before George could respond, so instead he pulled you closely to him and began to gently trace circles on your bare shoulders. He breathed in the smell of your shampoo, and listened intently for the beating of your heart that had fallen into sync with his.

Tears pushed at the edges of his eyes, but he slowed his breathing and reminded himself, again, that there was no longer an empty space beside him in bed.

Maybe he shouldn’t have ever given up hope, but perhaps giving up hope was what made finding you so much sweeter.

If only he could tell seven-year-old George what he’d find when the time was right.

And in the darkness, as the rain pattered on the rooftop of his house and he felt your embrace tighten around his body, he whispered into the silence, “I love you, too.”

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @acciotwinz @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @highly-acidic @90shermione @zreads @holland-parkers @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @awritingtree @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyinhserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro @valwritesx @heavenlymidnight @hannolannno @msmimimerton @oh-for-merlins-sake @hufflepuff5972 @pigwidgexn @sarcasticallywitty15 @breadqueen95 @teawiththeweasleys @pit-and-the-pen @phuvioqhile @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @harrypotter289 @lovefromrosie | message me if you’d like to be added or removed or have changed your URL so i can update!

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #george weasley imagines #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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novelist-becca · 4 years ago

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TOH Fanfic recs! Part 1

(All of these people are my inspiration I stg)

Found family

Make my heart your home series by @tiredandjaded

First fic: Luz accidentally calls Eda "mom" and they both have a crisis over it. Mostly Luz. Second fic: post-YBOS, Luz tells Eda and Lilith of what happened during the rescue mission, and both Luz and Eda give Lilith a shovel talk. Third fic: Luz and Eda are both taking care of each other in the first seven days after coming home. Includes fun sibling bonding!

(Patiently awaiting the next chapter of the third installment!)

Literally anything by @hereforthehurts

The way they write emotions and hurt/comfort is seriously amazing. Never fails to make me cry, especially when it comes to sickfics and fics of Eda and Luz. (I recommend supporting them on Ko-Fi!)

You Are My Sunshine by @liesminelli

One of the first Owl House fics I ever read, and it's SO good! Luz has a night terror and Eda walks in on her freaking out, and it goes from there. The emotions of both characters are very well-written, and the ending is so sweet! I also recommend checking out their other works too!

It's The Least I Could Do by @witchesbeforewizardss

There aren't enough fics of Luz and Lilith bonding, and this is one of the BEST ones. Lilith needs more healthy relationships, and in my opinion, building an aunt-niece relationship with Luz is a great place to start! (next to making amends with Eda) Basically, Luz is feeling homesick, and before dinner, she allows Lilith to help her feel better.

Luz's Not So Great Luck and

A Friendly Beastly Surprise by @animerunner

The first fic has a large abundance of angsty scenarios, mostly AUs, all of which are wonderful to read. My personal favorite is the one where Luz is an orphan and she has a chronic illness, and well, you'll have to read to find out! The second one is canon compliant, and it's about Eda turning into the Owl Beast and treating Luz like an owlet, and Luz is just like "guess this is my life now". It's so cute!

Rainy Day Makeovers by @fallenflowersfromgrace

To summarize, There's boiling rain, and Luz convinces Eda to spend time with her giving each other makeovers. It's very cute, and I love it!

Some Honesty Before Breakfast by @pizzaboat

Eda notices Luz is acting unusual, and gets her to open up. It's in-character, and wonderfully executed.

Thank you for being in my life by @peridot-garcia

Episodes of The Owl House from Eda's perspective, and as of now, also Luz and Lilith's perspective. It's got wonderful found family scenarios, and so far the plot is pretty great!

Lighting up the Dark by The_Quoter

This is a very recent one, and I love it! It's post-Young Blood Old Souls, and Eda comes to terms with how much Luz means to her, while also helping her come out of a nightmare.

The Light Behind Your Eyes by ABirdinFlight

Post-Young Blood. Eda gives Lilith a shovel-talk (harsh but well-deserved) and has a heart-to-heart talk with Luz in her room.

Moonlit Masquerade: Replacement by Rohad

Similar to make my heart your home, Luz accidentally calls Eda "mom" and both of them have a crisis over it. (As expected!)

Bad Days by @drabbles-of-writing

Part of their Four Years AU, Luz has an episode, and Eda takes her home to help her calm down. It's very bittersweet and heartfelt.

Gratuitous Embellishments of Chicken Noodle Soup by Rulerofthecosmosandsnails

Luz almost drowns at the Knee, but her Owl Mom is there to help her get better, including making her soup! (Yeah, my fic Snow Day was inspired by this)

A Line Crossed by Clevinger

AU in which Luz dies by the spikes at the bridge, in front of Eda, who thankfully resurrects her, and as expected, Luz is having a hard time handling it. There's another work inspired by it called Too Much, Too Late by TheHonestyBird.

A nightmare and a hug by moreteaplease

Reeaaally hard to find since it doesn't have the relationship tag for Luz and Eda, but still, it's very good! Post-YBOS, Luz has a nightmare and goes to Eda for comfort, confessing that she misses her mom.

Sleepless Nights by @snail-watch

Similar to the one before this, Luz has a nightmare and goes to Eda for comfort. I loved the way the author wrote Eda's thoughts about Luz!

Mending Trust by @electricwalkman

Similar to The Light Behind Your Eyes. Eda puts Luz to bed, and Luz tells her about the portal being destroyed, and gives her the mask piece. Eda comforts her, as well.

Night Owl and

The Bad Dream Club by @thedrunkenwerewolf / @wolfiethewriter

Eda has trouble sleeping, Luz notices, and Eda confessed that she's scared of hurting Luz as the beast. Luz of course, reassures her by telling her it won't happen. The second fic is the other way around, sorta. Luz has a nightmare and gets herself a drink to calm down, and Eda finds her.

Dreams of a Witch by TheDinosaurNerd

Eda talks to her younger self in her mindscape about her life as a wild witch. (In the end it turns out to be Luz in her lap.)

Griffon Flu by @serendipitouslyss

Another great sickfic! Luz gets the flu, or Griffon Flu as it's called in the Boiling Isles, but Eda and King are more than willing to help her get better.

Owlet by spotty8bee

Ah, the cursed AU that started it all. Only 2 chapters, but it's wonderfully heartbreaking and you really feel for Eda in the second half of chapter 1.

Observations of the Witchy Kind by JoLau

If you like platonic cuddling, you'll love this fic! Luz wants to learn about witch biology, but unfortunately Boscha burns the notebook that had her research, so she tries to rewrite her observations, and ends up catching Eda's attention.

I Need You, Please Don't Leave Me by rainbowpotato12

Luz is having bad thoughts, and worries that something bad could happen to Eda again, but Eda reassures her it won't.

This is Home by SpaghettieBabie

Luz has doubts about herself, and opens up to Eda about it, confessing that she likes her as her mother figure.

I Love the Found Family Trope! by @l-egionaire

Takes place after The Intruder. Eda thinks that Luz and King might leave her after knowing about the curse, and they tell her they would never do that.

Nightmare by OneandOnlyOllie

Another nightmare fic! Eda comforts Luz after a nightmare. Lilith hears the two, and wants to make things right with Luz.

It was not, in fact, a day out by @pizzaboat

Post-YBOS. Eda turns into the Owl Beast, tries to cuddle Luz, Lilith and King in her nest, and they have to come up with a working scheme to turn her back. Basically The Intruder if Lilith was there.

A broken brain by @pizzaboat

I can relate to this one a lot (except my adhd is diagnosed). Luz has trouble focusing on homework, and doesn't know why, and tells Eda she thinks she's going crazy, but Eda tells her she's not, and that Lilith had a similar problem.

What big claws (to protect you with my dear) by @ito-itonomen

AU where Luz is 10 and Eda takes her in, and both of them have doubts about themselves. Chapter 2 is especially good.

Unexpected Hope by @sepublic

Luz talks to Lilith about how she had (surprisingly) inspired her.

Lilith and Eda

Mistakes Might Have Been Made by @fallenflowersfromgrace

WARNING: you will definitely cry in the second chapter!

An AU in which Lilith split the curse with Eda the first time she transformed. Of course, by the time she reveals that she cursed her, it doesn't go well. (Eda's reaction hurts, but it's in character) and the pain in chapter 2 is just…AGONY AND ITS SO GOOD!

Walk Through the Storm, I Would by @lilithswxfe

Trigger warning for self harm and suicidal thoughts in this fic.

Lilith tries to hurt herself while in a bad state, but Eda catches her and comforts her.

Source Decay series by @tiredandjaded

Trigger warning for underage drinking in the second fic.

Two pre-canon fics about Lilith and Eda, the first fic portraying Eda as trans and how she's feeling about her name, and how Lilith helps her. The second one is sadder, it's after the curse and Eda isn't taking Lilith coming home late very well, leading to some…not-so-great coping mechanisms.

Rabbit Heart by radiantstaber

It has found family Owl Mom moments, but then it is mostly about Lilith and Eda rebuilding their relationship, with Luz trying her best to encourage both of them. (The description is very funny, describing the Owl House as a get along shirt.)

The Cafeteria Incident by @electricwalkman

Remember that page from Eda's record about Eda summoning abominations because somebody stole Lilith's lunch money? This is based on that, and it's SO GOOD!

Runaway Raven by @witchesbeforewizardss

Trigger warning for graphic injuries

In both Lilith thinks she doesn't belong with her family in the Owl House, and tries to "punish" herself. Eda convinces her that it's not worth it and she just wants her sister back.

The Long Night by @serendipitouslyss

Post-YBOS, just like The Light Behind Your Eyes. Eda puts Luz to bed, and she and Lilith have a long talk. (Though she's not as harsh.)

A Midnight Talk by @elizabethemerald

Lilith sees Luz having a nightmare, and calms her down for a little bit (via stroking her hair). Eda sees her, and the two have a talk.

I Need a Moment to Quiet This Pain by @come-unhinged

Moments in Eda's life and how she dealt with her curse.

Part 2 might have Lumity idk

#long post #fanfic recommendation #fanfic #fanfiction #fic recs #the owl house #toh #owl house #the owl house fanfiction #found family #Luz noceda #eda clawthorne #edalyn clawthorne #Lilith clawthorne #Clawthorne sisters #eda the owl lady #eda the owl mom #mom Eda

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1257

Have you ever watched a movie in class/school that made you cry? Oh for sure. We had to watch It’s A Beautiful Life and I know I cried every single time I watched that movie, whether for school or on my own time.

What’s the earliest you could go to bed at night and feel okay about? I don’t really get this question. I feel like it would make more sense if it asked how early I’m willing to wake up in the morning...? Anyway, I don’t pay attention to the time I sleep at night. Sometimes I’ll pass out as early as midnight, and sometimes I’ll be up until 3; it doesn’t matter to me.

What is you favorite type of lunch meat? I’m not into those in general.

What time of the year do you dislike the most? The heat in April and May is just brutal and uncalled for. It gets so hot and disgustingly humid and most times the aircon can’t even do much to quell it.

Do you put ketchup on your scrambled eggs? Yeah, banana ketchup since that’s what we usually have a bottle of. Generally, I have banana ketchup with most of my breakfast dishes too.

What is your favorite color to wear? I don’t really have a favorite to wear those days mostly because I barely go out anyway and there’s been little need to update my closet.

Are you an overachiever? Seems like the type of question you should be asking my parents, not me haha. Personally, though, I’m fairly proud of what I’ve accomplished.

What physical feature do you wish you had (i.e. freckles, curly hair)? Maybe longer legs and smaller teeth, but I’m not exactly insecure about mine.

What fictional character (i.e. Bambi, Scarlette O'Hara) would you marry? Did you just raise the possibility of marrying a deer? Anyway...since I mentioned Two for the Road in the last survey, I’ll go with Mark from that movie. Seems like my type of partner.

How long have you gone without shaving (girls- legs, armpits; boys- faces)? With legs...around 2-3 weeks. Armpits, maybe about a week or so. Never more than a month for either.

What is the meanest thing you have ever said to someone else? For the most part I’ve always been cautious of what I say; writing, on the other hand...I’ve written stuff on my diary wherein I let out all my frustrations against my mom. I know they were mean because she cried over them – but that also entailed snooping through my stuff, so I’ve never felt bad about it. I meant those things as I wrote them because it was my safe space, and she violated that. That’s on her.

Did you ever go through a phase where you wrote bad poetry? I did, but I instantly realized it was bad so I stopped as soon as I began.

What is your favorite thing about your life? How everything seems to have fallen in its place these days. There’s really little to complain about and I’m grateful for that.

Save all the animals that die during road kill or save 1 human from a fire? Animals.

Have you ever painted a picture of somebody? No.

How many real bfs/gfs have you had? One.

Did you enjoy your past relationships? I did.

Name a comedy that you like. White Chicks. << I love this choice, let’s just go with this one lol.

Could you wait until marriage for sex? Sure.

What’s the best Nirvana song? I don’t listen to them. I know a couple of songs but I don’t like them enough to be my favorites.

What was the last thing that impressed you? The new Butter remix with Megan Thee Stallion.

When was the last time you were in a pet store? Years, years ago.

What nationality is your last name? Spanish or Portuguese, I’m not super sure.

What’s your favorite kind of chips and dip? I never dip my chips; I just have them as is.

Who was the last boy that you saw cry? Idk...maybe one of my cousins from one of our family reunions last year. I don’t get to be around a lot of boys or guys.

Does your mom know you do surveys? No. I’ve never had to raise it and I can’t see a situation where I would have to.

Have you ever had a serious injury? Yeah, I got a big wound from when I went snorkeling around a decade ago. I wasn’t provided flippers so when I was kicking to stay afloat I managed to hit the coral reefs underneath repeatedly, which majorly scraped and gashed my left foot until it was an open, bleeding mess. It was infected for weeks and I’m surprised it didn’t leave any kind of mark or scar.

What was the last thing you achieved? Handling a campaign for a major client successfully and getting good coverage and results for it.

Would you enjoy being famous? Probably, but I wish I had some sort of talent or skill that would propel me to popularity in the first place hahaha.

What’s under your bed? Some things I collected from past hobbies and interests, like all my old wrestling magazines.

Do you enjoy travelling? Love it.

Have you ever belonged to a club? If so, what was it? I mean I joined an org in college, which technically makes me a member for life. I’m not name-dropping but it’s one of the two journalism organizations in my alma mater.

When was the last time you drank strawberry milk? I can’t recall. I don’t drink strawberry milk.

Have you ever managed to collect all the fast food toys in a set? I never collected those.

Do you have a clock in your room? Nope.

Did you have a good driver’s ED teacher? I honestly can’t remember. I only had like three sessions with different instructors for each, and the one instructor I remember having was extremely cranky and impatient.

Which of Britney Spears’ songs is your favorite? Hold It Against Me is pretty fun.

Does mind over matter work for you? Sure.

Are you paranoid? Oh yeah. Overthinker is pretty much my middle name.

What is the best thing about winter? I wouldn’t know but considering the things associated with it, I’ve always believed it would be my favorite season.

Have you ever been truly in love? Hmm. I think so, yeah. I’d give myself that.

Are you currently planning a trip? Nah. Nothing set in stone, but Angela, Reena, and I have been talking about flying to South Korea next year. We’ll see.

How many plants are in your home? Several. My mom is a bit of a fan, but it’s nothing obsessive.

What is your favorite possession? I treasure my BTS merch, I guess haha. Nobody is allowed to touch them or move them around without my permission. As often as my mom likes to barge in my room and touch my stuff, she seems to understand and doesn’t lay a finger on any of the merch either.

Have you ever felt like you were too nice and way too often overlooked? Sure. But it's never really mattered to me; it just feels nice to be nice and do nice things for people. It does feel nice to be thanked, but I don’t necessarily do it for the recognition.

What movies have tripped you out? I’m Thinking of Ending Things, Midsommar, Anomalisa, Under the Skin, 2001: A Space Odyssey, and The Killing of A Sacred Deer are a few of them.

Did you rollerblade as a kid? Do you still rollerblade? Yesssss, I even had a pair as a kid. I got into it because I loved to ice skate, but it turned out I wasn’t as good as gliding on the ground so I ultimately preferred ice skating. Anyway, no, I haven’t done rollerblading in years.

Would you ever settle into a relationship that wasn’t right for you? Do you know friends who are in relationships just so they have someone to sleep with at night? I did. I stayed because it’s where I felt safe and I didn’t know where else to go or what else to do outside of it.

Would you take a dirty picture of yourself for someone you are dating? Sure.

Do you use earplugs or a sleeping mask when you sleep? Nope. I find them more distracting than anything else, and they actually keep me from sleeping.

What summertime treats do you love? I don’t have any.

How picky are you when it comes to choosing who to kiss or not kiss? I am VERY picky. I have to be really interested in you. < Yeah, this sounds about right.

What do you hate most about moving? The last time we moved was in 2008...and I don’t really remember disliking any part of it. I was actually excited for us to have a home all to ourselves after living with extended family in a cramped house all my life.

Do you feel that having sex anywhere but a bed is more exciting? Depends where. Sometimes it can be exciting, sometimes it can be inconvenient but you kinda do it out of desperation lol.

Do you drink 5 hour energy drinks or any other kinds of energy drinks? No, I’m scared of how it would affect my body so I’ve never tried.

Has anyone ever whistled at you? Countless random men.

Do you like scarves? They can be comfy if I’m traveling somewhere cold...but I don’t really get to do that often, so.

Is your father homophobic? I haven’t seen any signs from him. My mom is much more likely to exhibit internalized homophobia – she just did the other night.

Do you take gummy vitamins? No, only when I was a teenager.

Have you ever applied make-up on a guy, for any reason at all? I don’t think so, nothing I can recall.

Who would you like to meet before you die? I don’t have any goal person in mind.

If your dream was to be a model, and a big opportunity came up, but you had to be nude, would you take it? Hmm, probably not. What’s the most ridiculous conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of? The Avril Lavigne doppelganger one is extremely hilarious and I read up so many thread about it on Twitter just so I can see how far people can stretch it.

If Heaven and Hell exists, where are you going when you die? I don’t care.

Who is the person that you are afraid of losing, above everyone else? Either of my best friends.

What is one thing that pisses you off pretty much everyday? The weather.

Is there anyone you know that you feel should consider therapy? My mom.

Do you like any of the songs on Twilight, or the actual movie/saga itself? Yeah the soundtracks are actually fucking great. The person who took this survey before me named Supermassive Black Hole by Muse, and that’s one of my favorites from all the soundtracks. The song Slow Life in New Moon is nice, too. How old was the first person you kissed? She was 17, going on 18.

Will you be a strict parent one day? I’d have some rules set but I wouldn’t suffocate my kids.

Last person to stand up for you? Heck if I know. I can do that for myself.

Have you been to a baby shower? No.

Who were you with the last time you went to the movie theater? My ex.

What’s your favorite high school memory? Hiding a same-sex relationship from my conservative, homophobic Catholic teachers.

Do you like relationships, or do you prefer to be single? I like being single these days.

What is one adventurous thing you’d be willing to do? Trying out the Nevis Swing in New Zealand.

What subject at school did you absolutely hate? I saw no point in studying chemistry.

Italian food or Chinese food? Chinese. I like Italian cuisine, but sometimes I find it a tad bit salty for my taste.

Do you like to make flash cards when you study? Not flash cards but sometimes I’ll write my notes down in several index cards because for some reason I retain information better that way.

Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer? No.

Do you ever watch TED talks, live or online? No. I never saw the appeal of most of them, honestly.

I dare you to write the name of a person you strongly dislike. Gabie.

What do you think about Marilyn Manson? I have nothing to say about him tbh.

Biggest trouble you’ve ever gotten into at school? Nothing beyond getting into an argument with this kid in 2nd grade and getting sent to the counselor’s office for it.

Do you own one of those “professional” DSLR cameras? I used to, until I handed it down to my sister...and until she let it smash onto the ground because she didn’t place it on her tripod properly when she was filming one time. I still don’t get why she’s so defensive about it; I wish she’d just admit she majorly fucked up on that. Does it bother you when you see a 6th grader with a bunch of gadgets? It makes me silently judge the parents more so than letting myself be bothered by a child.

Did you buy yearbooks every year in high school, or did you not bother? We’re not offered the chance to get yearbooks unless we’re in graduating years.

Do you have Restless Legs Syndrome? No.

Jalapeños: yay or nay? YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Did you ever play Minecraft? No. I can’t care less.

Did you ever have a Club Penguin account? Were you a member? I didn’t.

Do you know anyone that seems to not have any common sense? Me, sometimes. Hahahaha.

What do you think is the biggest injustice that was ever done to you? The way I was broken up with, like what the person who last took this said. I’m not tortured by it and her anymore, but I don’t think I deserved to intensely mull over about what I could have possibly done to be broken up with the way she did.

What type of person angers you the most? Abusive people that think only they matter and have no consideration for how their actions affect other people. < This pretty much hits the nail on the head on how my ex is, so I’ll just go ahead and agree.

If you could change your appearance, how would you alter it? I’d get braces again and...that’s it, really.

What are your feelings on feminism? I support it and I support how it advocates equality.

Describe your first relationship? I’ve only had one relationship so I’ll just answer the following question.

Describe your last relationship? Internally toxic; uhhh healthy at some points I guess, when she wasn’t being a selfish prick; a disaster towards the end.

Can you honestly say that you always practice safe sex? I honestly don’t know what constitutes ‘safe sex’ in a same-sex relationship, sooooo idk if I have.

Why do you think your most favorite film touches you so deeply? It’s a realistic take on love and I appreciate that it took its sweet time to highlight the ugly sides of love and marriage. Also, Audrey Hepburn taking her acting chops to the next level was just beautiful to watch. She was always a fantastic actress in all her movies, but I could tell her acting in Two for the Road had just a little bit more depth to it.

What do you want people you meet for the first time to think about you? That I’m nice and approachable.

Do you feel protective over someone? My friends.

What perfume/cologne do you wear? Heat Rush.

Where did your vehicle come from? My parents got it for me as a high school grad gift.

What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to? I haven’t been to a wedding since 2007, and back then I was designated as a flower girl lol. I’ve never been to a wedding where I was chosen to be a bridesmaid.

What is your favorite way to eat chicken? CHICKEN SANDWICH. Also chicken wings.

It is your birthday. You hope the cake is: Oreo cheesecake topped with 24 macarons.

What do you wear to bed? Something thin and airy.

What were you doing at 8pm last night? I was watching Bon Voyage.

#survey #surveys

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shotosprincess · 4 years ago

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When he loves me — Iwa ♡︎ Oikawa

LISTEN TO: “ CLOUD 9 “ — BEACH BUNNY

ART: UNKNOWN ( i found it as a sticker on picsart since i couldnt find any good iwaoi screencaps so if yk who the artist is plspls lmk !! ty !! )

｡･:*:･-: ✧ :,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

pairing: iwa x oikawa

summary: iwa shyly plays oikawa a song he wrote on a whim ,, and years later ,, after they fell apart ,, oikawa attends one of iwa’s concerts and hears their song,, the song,, once more .

genre: angst + fluff !! <3 ugh i love oikawa my bby but i absolutely love him and iwa together sm too ajjdjjf

a/n: 3am writing for comfort innit (•̀ᴗ•́)و smhsmh it’s lowkey so dramatic ?? idk why i was feeling so melancholic ?? but i live for the yearning anyways lmao <//3

“ Hey...wanna...hear something I’ve been working on? “

Iwa’s voice shifted to one of a far softer tone, unusually uncertain of himself as he gripped the bedsheets beneath him in an anxious hold, turning away from Oikawa whilst a deep vermillion blush tainted his shy-stricken face.

The hazel-haired setter lifted his mouth into a gentle smile, skin mirroring a similar red to Iwa’s. His head lolled to the side, and Iwa swore he felt something flutter within him. The fist which he clutched the bedsheets within closed even further.

“ Sure, Iwa-chan! “

A hard gulp. Iwa swallowed his nerves down, fingers hovering over the strings of his freshly-purchased guitar, hesitant. Trembling, even.

Light wisps of brown swept just over Oikawa’s eyes as he put down the volleyball he had been mindlessly spinning, and covered Iwa’s hands with his own. He looked up with a reassuring grin, deepened-honey gaze colliding with one of the enchanting midnight sky.

“ It’s okay. It’s just me. But of course, you don’t have to play if you don’t wan— “

Iwa swats his hand away. “ Of course I wanna, dumbass! “ He barked.

With a frustrated huff, his fingers find a home amongst the sound as they begin to delicately strum the translucent strings. His eyes fell closed, lost in the music, albeit fairly cliche, as he wordlessly played the song which was most special to him.

For what reason it held such a cherished place in his heart, he did not know. Not truly, at least. Admittedly, he had written it purely on a whim, clutching onto the fleeting remnants of a foreign euphoric high. The crazed rush of fingers furiously clacking against the keyboard filled the silence of his room, lasting well into the evening. He had so much to say, so much to express, and yet it was only through the words appearing on the screen in which he could ever hope to communicate it.

He had never even planned on sharing it. After all, it was merely a crappy, rushed song put together purely by the rawness of an unknown emotion, and during ungodly hours of the night out of all times. It was nothing special, really.

To him, at least.

And yet in a hushed, timid tone, he began to sing:

“ I don’t wanna seem the way I do...but I’m confident when I’m with you... “

Oikawa’s lips parted in sheer awe. The delicate swirls of the instrumental blended flawlessly into the angelic quality of Iwa’s singing. His muscles tensed. He shook it away.

What the hell is this? Was he...nervous? No, no, it can’t be. This is Oikawa-fucking-Tooru we’re talking about!

He could do nothing but stare intently in a silent adoration as he allowed his heartbeat to meld with the smoothness of the melody, sweeping him out of Iwa-chan’s bedroom and into a whole other universe entirely. One where there exists no pain, no sadness, no fear. One where tears dried before they could even splatter upon the ground. One where everything was happy and perfect and...good.

—

IWA

Five years have passed, yet I miss him all the same. If anything, the ache has only grown to, somehow, prove itself increasingly unbearable over the time we’ve spent apart. My stare falls upon my guitar. Not the new one, which is this modern, flashy model with a bold red design, but my first-ever guitar, boasting its worn-out strings and dulled body. The hole in my heart digs itself impossibly deeper.

We had dated not long after that night—the night I played my song to him, and suddenly it became our song. We would whip it out like a handy party trick whenever we’d hangout with the rest of the team, and it was...nice to say the very least. Well, while it lasted, of course. Highschool love, teenage love, is constantly fleeting. Temporary. That was my philosophy at least, until Oikawa Tooru appeared and changed everything. I disregarded every sense of rationality, and all for the blissful rush of romance which he offered. The sneaking out, the small notes snuck into each other’s lockers, the way he draped his jacket over me when I got cold, the tender kisses shared in a darkened room.

I loved it. All of it. And when I lost him, I missed him too. All of him.

I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised, though. After all, teenage love is but a transient feeling, is it not? I had to drill the reiteration of my old motto back into my head when we split, so that I may never allow myself to yield to the temptations of love, or at least the attractive promise of one, ever again. Eventually, we had to go our separate ways. He pursued volleyball, and I chased relentlessly after a different growing passion of mine, though honestly rather unexpected; music.

And now here I am. Sitting backstage at my own show, waiting patiently for my cue. My foot taps a random rhythm against the floor as I mentally debate with myself whether or not my choice for the opening song truly was the best option.

I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

He might be watching.

Fair, but would he even recognize me? Does he even remember me at all? I mean, it’s been so long...

I think he’d remember something as sentimental as the song you first played him. I mean, you were the first guy he ever dated.

Yeah, keyword: “ dated “. He’s probably moved on by now.

Shit, do you think he’s found someone new already? What if he brought them to the show?

Nah, nah. That’s highly unlikely. Impossible, even. The latter, that is. It’s not exactly that popular of a show.

Right, you’re right. So there’s nothing to worry about. Hakuna-fuckin-matata, right?

I suck in a sharp breath as the lights come on, laughing dryly.

Hakuna-fuckin-matata.

—

OIKAWA

My hands fiddle with one another as I push my way past the busy crowd to find a spot amongst the front row. A cheery girl with astonishingly-saturated red hair and an almoat-overwhelming brightness about her, greets me. I scoff, amused.

A fangirl, no doubt. Charming.

“ Oikawa! Ohmygoshohmygosh, Oikawa Tooru!! Hi!! I’m—I’m— “

I glance at the front row, which is only a few steps away, as her blubbered words start to blur together. I laugh.

“ A fan, right? Want my autograph or something? A picture, maybe? “

Her eyes light up vastly and she begins to bounce up and down with the same enthusiasm I’ve noticed to be common among practically all fangirls.

“ YES! Ohmygosh, yesyesyesYES!! “

My grin widens as I click my blue pen, which I carry around for autographs ( oh, the pains of being famous ), and hurriedly sign my name on her collared shirt. It was a fairly pretty garment, I’ll admit, but at this moment I didn’t really care, and I’m sure neither did she, judging by the way she squealed excitedly and took a spam of what had to be a million-and-one selfies with it.

I finally find a place among the jumping people at the front, taking in the atmosphere. The lights dim, and brighter white ones turn on in their place.

The show is about to start.

—

IWA

“ Hey, everyone. I— “ The mic whines with feedback. I wince, wrapping my free hand around it and trying again.

“ I’m—I’m opening with a song that’s very dear to me. I wrote it way back in highschool, but it’s always stuck with me, kinda like a safety net...of sorts. I uh, hope you enjoy. “

Shit, why am I being so damn awkward? I’ve never been this awkward before a show. Maybe it’s because of that damn opening song. Oh well. Too late to back out now.

Irritated, I push the thought away, wetting my lips as the drowning claps and whoops from the crowd cheer me on. My hand hovers just over the strings. It’s shaking. No matter. I close my eyes, and imagine him holding them. Him encompassing my hands within the warmth of his, just like he did all those years, which were now lost in the past. Him looking at me, him telling me it’s okay. Him.

I breathe all my nerves out.

Him.

And I begin to play.

The awkwardness melts away almost instantaneously as I pour every dripping ounce of my heart out into the song, the music swelling wildly with every emotion I had forced in for the dreariness of these five years. My eyes shoot open when the chorus hits. I feel like I’m king of the world.

I catch a familiar set of eyes. Richly brown. Deep.

Oh shit.

My breath hitches when I realize who they belong to; Him. His. He-

No, no, it couldn’t be. Could it?

It felt too real, as if I’ve somehow managed to reduce his very existence to nothing but romanticized self indulgent daydreams of what we once had, woven into the vast vagueness of song lyrics with a naïve hope of what could’ve been. And now here he was, at my concert of all places, for god knows what reason. The colourful lights fell upon his face in the most flattering manner, though admittedly I suppose anything would be flattering on him either way. But under this light especially, at my concert, he looked nothing short of perfect. Of lovely.

But of course he was. This was Oikawa-fucking-Tooru, after all.

The chorus hits with a sharp accent. I belt with all that I am, for the boy who took a rough sketch of a dream and made it reality, for the boy who found an unmatched sense of home among those of his highschool volleyball team, for the boy who wound up so foolishly falling in love with his best friend. For him, for my fans, but most of all, for me.

“ But when he loves me, I feel like I’m floating, when he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody— “

I maintain eye contact with him. It’s scary, burning holes into my tattered soul, which I had pieced together so carefully with cathartic lyrics scratched into the pages of creased notebooks. I’m secretly scared that his gaze will somehow break it all down again. But that’s when I finally understand; it’s him. This, this song, it’s about him. It’s always been about him. There will be no one else, could be no one else for me. That...sheer elation, the unfiltered emotion which sparked this song to begin with—I understood now. That was love. More specifically, love which my chest held for Oikawa. It’s as if I’ve been harshly disillusioned to see what I’d been unconsciously denying all these years, seeing him here. It’s always been Oikawa. How could I not have known? After all, I’m constantly recalling the day he held me in a tight embrace after one of our best matches, happy tears staining my damp jersey as he whispered in my ear the praise I’ve subconsciously always wished to hear.

“ You did good. “

Though it seems painfully mundane, simple to anyone else, it was...different, coming from his lips, hearing it in his voice. I took that compliment and kept it close to me for all eternity, immortalizing it within the varying notes of this song. I stare right back at him with a newfound fervour, an unknown intent, a epiphanic strength.

“ Even when we fade eventually to nothing, you will always be my favourite form of lovely. “

His eyes widen.

—

OIKAWA

My heart clenches as Iwa freely powers through the rest of the song. But during this moment, it feels as though it was created solely for us. As if the universe, as if fate itself had decided that despite the harshness of this world, and every little force fighting to keep us apart, this one moment, if anything, was ours. Truly ours. Our song, our moment. Ours. Time suspended itself indefinitely as the onyx hearth of his gaze finally met with mine. Unexpectedly enough, it stayed there.

And everything fell into place.

The song didn’t take me to a paradise without tears, or pain, or sorrow anymore. It took me to a place with Iwa in it. I realize now that...I want the tears. I want the pain. I want the grief. I want the good and the bad and the light and the dark, so long as I can have Iwa there with me through it all. I want him. All of him. I’ve want to love him enough to love his “ unglam “ moments and his admirable aspects all the same. I want to be there with him through every body-wrecking tear, every hearty laugh, and every glimmer of happiness. I want to be able to see the face he makes during a scary movie, to open an umbrella for him during the rain. I want to see the sunlight glow upon his cheek, I want to count the stars with him until I fall asleep. I want everything about him, for to me, he is everything. And it’s this song...this damned song which brought it all back.

It was ours. And I realize now...it was about...me. I mean, I’ll admit that I’ve always been a little more on the conceited side, but how could you deny it? It had to be. It had to. Had to. I wanted it to, at least. I wanted it to be about me so desperately, it sent a cold pain through my chest. A single, lonely tear falls down my cheek as the crowd around me erupts into a sea of laughter and off-tune singing from the audience.

What if it wasn’t? I mean, you guys broke up. You told him you moved on. Yes, it was a lie to lessen the pain, but he didn’t know that. What if it was about someone else completely and you’d just been an idiot this whole time? What if—

The concert comes to a close much faster than I thought it would, much faster than I would’ve ever wished for it to. I don’t know what I’m doing, what I’m thinking, but my legs move before I even have a chance to question them. I’ve always been one to think before acting, hence why I’m such a star on the court, but this time, my emotions seem to be taking over. I don’t know what’s come over me, what this unusual, hot feeling is. It’s exciting and intimidating all at once, and I hate it because I know what it must be. In a hot flash, I find myself standing at the door of Iwa’s changing room. How many bodyguards I must have recklessly shoved out of the way to get here in the blur of adrenaline, I don’t even want to begin to think about.

My hand freezes over the door. “ Iwa “ is engraved in bold gold letters with a deeply-etched star sticking out at the bottom. Taking a deep breath, I knock frantically.

“ I-Iwa-chan? It’s uh...it’s Oikawa. “

—

IWA

I pause in the midst of buttoning up my shirt. A solid three are left undone. But his voice...how could I ignore it? Ignore him? I haven’t heard his voice in what feels like eternity, but I’d be kidding myself if I had said I’d forgotten it. The constant yearning was always so irritating. Such a pain. At least it made for decent music, I mean, I’ve been booking shows. But alas, one problem before another.

“ O-Oikawa? “ I slowly pace to the doorknob as I twist it open.

Holy shit.

It is him after all. He hasn’t changed a bit. He remains the charming, handsome man I remember him to be, even after all this time has passed.

“ How’d you get—why are you here? “

“ Iwa, there’s...there’s just...there’s something I need to ask. “

“ Huh? “

“ That song...our song.... “

“ Shit, right! I, uh...sorry. I didn’t ask you about it because I honestly didn’t expect you to show up at all. It’s been what, five years? “ I stumble subtly over my words, rubbing the back of my neck.

He turns away sheepishly. Almost...longingly, even.

“ Yeah...it has. “

He clicks his tongue.

“ Who, uh...who was that song about? The curiosity’s been eating at me. “

A heat rises to my cheeks. A pause.

“ I—It—Ugh, fuck it. “

I’ve never been the best at talking directly to Oikawa, not since I realized that what I felt for him extended to something past the bounds of friendship. So I decided to do the only thing I knew to do in that moment—show him instead.

My lips crash against his as he slams the door behind him. The palpable tension between us is shattered immediately, and everything is faded out into insignificance. All that matters is the man in my arms, the man I’d been longing so desperately, so hopelessly for all this fucking time. I kiss him against the smoothness of the door, hands immediately trailing to his soft locks. I twirl and twine them as I see flashes, bright hues of heaven itself. His lips upon mine are the most perfect fit. His touch is painfully intoxicating, and I show him, wordlessly, with an unparalleled fervour—just who the song was about. He melts into it, matching my energy with a foreign sense of passion.

—

OIKAWA

“ Do you think...the universe is gonna try to separate us again? “ I ask softly, voice barely even a whisper. Tears wet my lashes at the very thought of being without him again. For those five years, though I was living my dream...it didn’t feel complete. Not without him. I blink them away aggressively, focusing on the night sky above us. My head is resting in his lap, and we’re simply...existing together beneath the curtain of darkened pools which hung above our twined bodies.

Iwa strokes my hair nonchalantly as he interlocks his fingers with mine. “ Of course. It always will. But we found each other didn’t we? And even after...even after this life has passed and we’re reduced to nothing but ash, I’m convinced we’ll meet again. One way or another. “

He tucks a straying tuft of hair from brushing my lashes.

“ Even then...even then you’ll still be my favourite form of lovely. Or whatever. “ He scoffs at his own over-poetic response, looking away with a tiny smirk.

“ Okay, Mr. Songwriter! “ I tease, nudging his side in a playful manner.

He rolls his eyes, bending down to kiss me once more.

For the first time in a long time, I feel complete. I’m on cloud 9.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fic #haikyuu oikawa #haikyuu!!#fanfic #oikawa oneshot #oikawa scenarios #oikawa fic #iwaizumi x oikawa #iwaoi #iwaoi fic #iwaizumi imagine #iwazumi imagines #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime

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pickalilywrites · 4 years ago

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happy halloween! i wrote this lil thing after watching this trailer for this show called Zombie Detective! I haven’t actually watched it so idk much about it beyond the premise, but i worked parts of it into this lil au ^^ hopefully you guys think it’s fun! the idea is that it’ll be a series but idk when i’ll get back to it, haha, but i do have future plans for it! also, can you believe this is my second erejean? crazy! i thought i would have written for them more haha

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How To Disguise Yourself As a Human Being

EreJean. Zombie Detective AU.

How to Be a Zombie series.

10108 words.

Read on AO3!

I’m alive.

It doesn’t occur to Eren, after digging through six feet of dirt, that this isn’t entirely true. While it’s true that he’s alive, it would be more accurate to say that he’s alive again. Then again, it doesn’t quite hit him - as he breathes in his first breath of fresh air in what feels like months - that he had died in the first place.

To be fair, this isn’t how Eren had pictured himself going out: knocked out in the middle of a midnight stroll through the forested hills that occupied the south of the small town he'd grown up in only to be choked to death, his strangled breaths unheard by the slumbering town. He had pictured himself going out with a bang, something like a gunshot and not snuffed out so easily like a candle. Preferably, it would be in his thirties (forties, if he were lucky), giving him enough time to make a noticeable mark on the world. But, of course, the universe is unpredictable, unjust, and, above all, a huge bitch.

All Eren can think when he first crawls out of the earth is that the sunlight is so bright it’s practically blinding. He holds out a hand to shade his eyes only to realize something strange - his hand is frighteningly thin and pale and veiny. His tanned skin is now a sickening shade of gray and Eren can easily see the veins of purple and blue running underneath the thin layer of skin. He looks down at himself - his torn up clothing covered in dirt, his bare feet the same color as the rest of his sickly skin, and the dry brittle hair hanging from his head. Dried blood stains his clothing, the only bit of color on him. He realizes then, sitting next to the six-foot hole that was meant to be his grave, that he hadn’t just been attacked that night. He had been killed. Murdered. He was dead. And now he’s alive again.

Nobody tells you how to deal with being a zombie. They tell you how to deal with a zombie but never what to do if you become one yourself. It turns out that humans are far more equipped to handle zombies than post-apocalyptic media would have you think. You could probably even make it if you were a senior citizen as long as you were able to raise your cane above your head. It’s only occasionally that a person gets eaten by a zombie now because fighting one off isn’t actually all that difficult. Eren knows the basics: aim for the head because the brain is what controls a zombie and their skulls are as soft as eggshells, zombies are slow creatures but you should still think fast, and never ever let a zombie bite you.

The last rule has Eren salivating as he realizes that it’s been a while since he’s eaten anything. He lays down on the ground, hand on his stomach as it rumbles. He tries to will away the cannibalistic urge that’s eating away at him by thinking of anything except his desire to feast on human flesh. He wants to be hungry for human food: miso ramen with its rich, salty broth and succulent slices of char siu pork with sweet kernels of corn and a soft-boiled egg on the side, okonomiyaki batter sizzling on the grill and topped with shrimp and green onions, or even crispy karaage with a squeeze of lemon and dipped in mayo. But Eren doesn’t crave any of it. His stomach growls in dissatisfaction, banishing his thoughts of food and replacing them with more horrifying alternatives: human skin breaking between his teeth and salty on his tongue, soft tissue melting in his mouth, taut muscle chewed up and swallowed hungrily. Eren craves sustenance in a way he never has before.

A bush rustles nearby and his eyes flicker over to it. Eren doesn’t move; staying still as a zombie is much easier than it ever was when he was a human. There is nothing but the wind sweeping up leaves in little gusts for a moment, and then, Eren sees it: a rabbit timidly making its way out of the bush. Its wide brown eyes stare at Eren, ready to scurry away at any sign of movement. The rabbit’s little pink nose twitches as it hops ever closer to the reanimated corpse that is Eren Jaeger. It’s such a tiny thing. This might even be its first time experiencing the fall - crisp autumn leaves underfoot, chilly morning air as the temperature cooled from summer to fall, and the sun setting earlier and earlier each night. It hasn’t lived nearly as long as it should, and yet Eren can’t help but salivate as the rabbit approaches him, imagining how satisfying it would be to plunge his teeth in its tender flesh.

The rabbit stops where Eren sits, leaning down to sniff at the hole in the knee of his jeans. The poor thing didn’t stand a chance.

Before he can even think, Eren grabs the animal in his grimy hands and bites into its neck. The sound of teeth digging into raw flesh is disgusting, but Eren can’t find it in himself to stop, taking bite after bite, moaning hungrily even as the rabbit struggles in his grasp and blood dribbles down his chin and onto his hand. Eren takes a bite from the rabbit's neck, blood spurting as his teeth tear at a vein, and feels the creature struggle uselessly until finally growing limp in his hands. He eats the rest of it - fur and flesh and blood and all - and feels it fill him like no meal ever has before. He doesn’t know how he had ever eaten before. In his previous life, he couldn’t imagine anything better than well-cooked meat: grilled, fried, roasted. He loved it marinated, covered in spices so that the different flavors could blend together and bring out the umami of the meat. Now, he realizes those extra flavors only masked the true taste of meat - gamey with a slightly sweet aftertaste - and cooking it destroyed its integrity. There’s something invigorating about eating raw meat, chewing through tender tissue and tough tendons, breaking flesh down, grinding it between his teeth. He’s had a taste and now he can’t imagine it any other way.

The rabbit was a small meal, one that did well to satisfy his hunger for the time being but fed his desire to search for more flesh. Rabbits are lean - small creatures with soft tissue, its only tough muscle in its legs. Eren can only imagine what other animals would taste like. He wants the taste of deer on his tongue, its meat smooth and firm as he bites down into its flesh, its rich and earthy flavor melting in his mouth. Raw pork would be meatier, fattier, sweet and savory at the same time. Chicken should be lighter, not nearly as rich or pork or venison, but nice and juicy as Eren tears his teeth into it. Beef should be tender, thick and meaty and earthy all at once. And human flesh …

Eren licks his lips at the thought of sinking his teeth into a human’s shoulder but quickly shakes his head as if that would be enough to banish the horrific thought.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stares at the smear of blood across his skin until he falls on his back with a heavy thud. Eren wants to feel disgusted at himself, to be ashamed at the monster he’s become, but his stomach grumbles. Even as he clutches at it in a helpless attempt to muffle the sounds of his hunger, all Eren can think about is how terribly dissatisfying his meal was and how he longs for something more.

A moan escapes his lip, frustrated and lonely, and Eren wonders how he’ll ever be able to survive his second life.

----------

Swapping from a traditional zombie diet to a vegetarian alternative, Eren discovers, is actually very easy if you’re able to distance yourself from humans. Well, it’s not really vegetarian if he’s still eating meat, but at least it’s not human meat. That has to count for something, right?

Eren had never really appreciated living in a small town until now. When he was in college, he had jumped at the chance to attend a college in the big city. It was fun; he got to have class with hundreds of kids instead of the normal ten or twenty and met a lot of new people. There were clubs and the chance to have an actual nightlife instead of just having a drink at the convenience store down the block because that was the only place that was open at night. Eren even enjoyed sharing an apartment with four other guys even if they could all barely pay rent and there was never a single clean spot in their shared space. Moving back home was a disappointment, but there really wasn't much else he could do when renting a place in the city was ridiculously expensive and, despite receiving his bachelor’s degree, he couldn’t land a decent job. His hometown was so quiet and dull in comparison, and some houses on the outskirts are so far apart that it takes fifteen minutes to get to the next one, but those are things that are actually very ideal for zombie life.

In all of his time as a zombie, Eren has only encountered a handful of humans and only from a distance. He doesn’t dare go near the town. He doesn’t think he’s ready for it, at least not yet. He wants to go through more training - learn how to keep space between him and his desires while learning how to satisfy himself with the meals he can get. Camping in the hills at the side of town is helpful, Eren finds. Having grown up here, he knows exactly what places to keep clear of so that he doesn’t run into any innocent townspeople or tourists that have come for a leisurely stroll on the trail. Being at the edge of town also means that Eren’s close to the farm at the foot of the hills, which means he always has a source of alternative meat to feed on when he feels peckish.

He used to hate the old farm. Even if he was on the other side of town, Eren swore he could still smell the stench of manure even if his mother told him it was ridiculous. Sometimes he would even hear the roosters crowing at the crack of dawn, which didn’t even make sense because Eren didn’t live anywhere near the farm or at least he lived far enough away that he shouldn’t hear roosters shrieking at an ungodly hour every single morning. The other townspeople adored the farm because it was a source of locally-sourced meat that they could trust, nothing like the imported beef and poultry from outside the town. Eren, not understanding the ethics in the meat industry, didn’t care for any of that at the time. He just knew that everything about the farm - its stench, its noises, its entire presence - annoyed him, so he once suggested that he and his friends go cow-tipping. All but one of his friends agreed and so they all sneaked out only to be stopped when they reached Armin, the only person who didn’t want to go.

“You know you can’t actually go cow-tipping, right?” Armin yawned sleepily when they had snuck into his room to drag him out with them.

“Why? ‘Cause it’s ‘bad’?” Eren asked, putting the word in quotes to show that he didn’t care and rolling his eyes for good measure.

“Well, yeah. Not to mention we’d be trespassing,” Armin explained. “And, like, cows don’t even sleep standing up. Horses do that.”

“Oh.”

Needless to say, Eren’s plans for that night were thwarted and he had another reason to hate the farm. Now, Eren can’t imagine what he would do without it.

Eren doesn’t eat at the farm, at least not at first. He keeps an eye on it, noting when the farmer’s truck is in, when it tends to disappear, and when the lights are on at night. When he dares to sneak into the farm, he takes a mental count of all the animals - cows, goats, pigs, chickens. Eren is certain he can get away with eating the chickens as long as he does so sparingly. Maybe he could eat one a day, but the dwindling population of poultry would be noticeable within a number of days. He takes a mental note of the days where the farmer lets the animals out to graze, especially the cows and the goats. The pigs, Eren thinks, are probably the easiest for him to eat. They’re far from hairless, but they’re not as annoyingly furry as cows and goats. Of course, they’re not nearly as tasty, too fatty and rich to Eren’s taste. He likes things with more muscle, something with a bit of chew to it, but disposing of bones is a hassle too. In the meantime, Eren feeds on rabbits and birds he manages to catch in the forest, all the while dreaming of something more satisfying to fill his belly.

The first time Eren sneaks in to eat a chicken, the sight of the poultry in front of him is so horribly enticing that he devours it on sight. He doesn’t even think, just lunges for the nearest feathered fowl and bites into it even as it flaps its wings and tries to scratch at his face with its claws. One good bite to the neck - punctuated with a large crunch! - and the chicken was lifeless in his hands and he ate away, occasionally spitting out the feathers between bites, while the other chickens clucked noisily around him. It’s only when he’s finished off his meal, polished the meat off its bones, that Eren realizes the ruckus he’s made and, upon hearing footsteps approaching, flees from the scene and disappears into the forest.

It’s the first time Eren makes that mistake, but it’s far from the last. Although he only makes the trips to the farmhouse only once or twice a week at most, he has too many close calls to count. There are traps the farmer begins to set up to catch the culprit. They’re harmless at first, just traps that set off an alarm when tripped to alert the farmer, but they grow more and more violent - little mouse traps that snap at Eren’s toes, vicious bear traps with jagged metal teeth, steel conibear traps meant to break his body in two - and yet Eren manages to evade every one. Being a zombie makes him slower, but it also makes him more careful, more perceptive of the things around him. Human Eren wouldn’t have stood a chance.

He still dreams of being able to return to society and live like a normal human being, but it has a slim chance of becoming reality, Eren thinks mournfully as he chomps down on the leg of a goat he had mercilessly bitten into just moments ago. Sure, he hasn’t eaten a human since he had awakened from the dead, but who’s to say that he couldn’t if given the chance? His craving to bite into human flesh, to feel it melt on his tongue, to have it fill his belly, is still one that burns in the pit of his stomach every night, but he’s learned to ignore it so far. As much as he wanted to chase after every stray hiker that had happened to wander into his line of sight, Eren has never allowed the desire to consume him, instead running away and biting into the meat of his arm because he wanted something - anything - to sink his teeth into and the taste of his rotting flesh helped to banish any want for human meat.

A sudden thump pulls Eren away from his train of thought and he realizes with horror that the farmer is pulling open the barn door. There’s no way to escape, so he has no choice but to hide.

Cursing under his breath, Eren discards the rest of the goat, leaving its carcass behind as he scuttled to the pile of hay in the corner of the barn. It smelled of dried grass and the stench of the farm. He hoped it would be enough to mask his own putrid scent.

The clomp, clomp, clomp of the farmer’s boots against the wooden floor grow closer as he comes to inspect the abandoned carcass of his half-eaten goat. Eren watches through the hay as the farmer kneels, pulling what’s left of the goat into his lap and mourns the loss of the poor creature.

“Those goddamn wolves,” the farmer moans, his voice filled with grief. It’s not unlike the sound of an animal as it cries for mercy. It’s the same sad tone, desperate and confused. The thought of the farmer, his throat in Eren’s hands as he holds the farmer beneath him and bites into the man’s face, with a lonely cry of anguish escaping his lips as he breathes his last makes Eren salivate.

“Pull yourself together, Jaeger,” Eren mutters under his breath, but his teeth continue to grind as he imagines the taste of the farmer on his tongue - a good mix of tender tissue and tough muscle, like beef but so much better. A hungry growl escapes his mouth before he can stop himself and he hastily shoves a fist inside his mouth, biting down hard until he tastes old rusted metal on his tongue and his tears sting at the taste of his bitter flesh.

The sound is just enough to catch the farmer’s attention and the man looks up to where Eren is. He stares at the corner where Eren is hiding, eyes unknowingly gazing over the hay bale that conceals the zombie. He continues to look but, finding no other disturbance, returns to look mournfully at the goat in his lap.

“We’re going to have to lock this place up better if they’re eating the damn goats too,” the farmer says with a shake of his head. With a sigh, he stands up, hoisting the goat’s remains over his shoulder and walking out of the barn.

Eren breathes more easily when the door of the barn shuts with a hard thud. He crawls out of the hay bale, brushing off the bits of dried grass that stick to his clothing and hair. A little wistfully, his eyes rest on the bloody stain in the stall that had once housed the goat. He had gotten a good taste of it, but he was unable to finish his meal. Hunting for a rabbit in the dark to satisfy his hunger is going to be a pain in the ass. Still, it’s not all a loss.

In all his time as a zombie, Eren has never been in such close proximity with a human, had never stayed that still in front of a human and not given in to his urge to run away lest he does the unfathomable. He had never trusted himself to not give in to his nature, but tonight is proof that he’s not a monster, at least not completely. At the very least, he’s capable of staying close to a human without eating them.

Eren rubs at his mouth, wiping at the blood leftover from his last meal. He’s starting to think that reintegrating himself into society isn’t completely impossible but if he’s going to do this, he’s going to need a little help.

----------

After careful deliberation, Eren realizes that there are really only a handful of people that are equipped to deal with his reanimation. His first thought was to return home because any mother would be overjoyed to discover that her son who had gone missing has suddenly reappeared, but the same cannot be said for a mother who discovers that her missing son has returned as a zombie. If anything, the shock of finding out her son is still alive - alive again, actually - might kill his mother, and that’s something that Eren wants to avoid.

There are plenty of people in town who knew who Eren was when he was alive, but not very many people that Eren would consider close enough to turn to even if he were in dire need of help. He’s never been the most popular guy in town and he doubts showing up as a zombie will win over any hearts. Out of his friends, he’s probably closest to Armin, who he’s known since they were in kindergarten. Going to Armin for help wouldn’t actually be a bad idea. He’s hands down the most intelligent person Eren has ever met and the town pride for attending Sina University, one of the most difficult universities to be admitted to. He’s also the most loyal, surprising everyone except Eren when he eventually returned to their hometown to work as a civil service worker because he wanted to help improve their town. At first glance, Armin would be the most obvious choice to seek help from, but there’s also a very big issue with Armin: he’d probably faint at the sight of his best friend as a zombie and, well, Eren’s not sure he’d be able to handle himself if an unconscious body dropped in front of him just waiting to be feasted on.

He goes down the rest of his list: Annie would be more equipped to handle a zombie. There’s no doubt that she’d easily kick Eren’s ass whether or not he was a zombie, but that in itself was an issue too. She’s the type of person to kick ass and ask questions later, and he doesn’t think he’d get too far if she smashed his head to pieces. Eren thinks he’d be able to negotiate with Reiner better, but he’s not sure his friend would be able to help him. Reiner would probably laugh his ass off after finding out Eren had somehow been turned into a zombie and, frankly, Eren isn’t in the mood to deal with that. Thus, after a month of careful planning, Eren finds himself at the front of Jean’s door praying that his friend still lives in this sorry excuse of an apartment.

He reaches out and knocks on the door with a tentative rap of his knuckles, stepping back and swallowing nervously as he listens to the heavy footsteps on the other side of the door. Keeping his head down, he pulls his hood closer over his face, hoping to shield himself from any curious eyes that might notice him visiting Jean at four in the morning.

“Who the fuck-?” Jean mumbles as he pulls open the door. A bat dangles from his hand, but he just scowls when he looks at Eren in the face. “Even if you aren’t a goddamn zombie, I will bash your head in.” He starts to lift the bat but Eren hurriedly lifts his hands to shield his face.

“Wait, Jean!” Eren says. His voice is a lot more hoarse than it used to be. He doesn’t know if it’s because he hasn’t used it in god knows how long or if it’s because zombies don’t have the same vocal cords as humans. He clears his throat. “It’s me. It’s Eren.”

“Eren?” Jean lowers his bat as he squints and takes a good look at Eren in his tattered hoodie, scraggly hair covering most of his face. He relaxes and then makes room for Eren to squeeze by. “Jesus, you look like hell.”

Jean’s probably right, but it doesn’t mean Eren likes hearing it. It’s not as if Jean looks any better in his rumpled Yoda pajamas and bedhead.

“Were you going to hit me over the head with that?” Eren asks, still eyeing the bat warily.

“Yeah, I mean, zombies and everything,” Jean says with a shrug. He shuts the door behind Eren and gestures for him to take a seat at the dining table. The brunette takes a seat himself and yawns, not even bothering to cover his mouth. “But what about you? Nobody’s seen you in over, what, a year? Your mom cried about you the entire time, calling up everyone she knew every night just to see if anyone had seen or heard from you. Everyone thought you died.”

“Oh, well …,” Eren says sitting there awkwardly. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, if he should put them on the table or fold them or what. They end up in his lap so he can stare at them and avoid making eye contact with Jean. “They wouldn’t be wrong. Er, at least not exactly.”

Jean freezes and then his eyes widen, fully awake now. Slowly, he leans across the table and reaches out until his hand is on the hood of Eren’s sweatshirt. They stay there like that, staring at each other while Jean’s hand rests on Eren’s hood until Jean finally pulls it back and reveals Eren’s true appearance.

“Fucking hell, Eren,” Jean says exasperatedly, burying his face in his hands.

It’s not how Eren had imagined telling Jean, but it’s not like people made pamphlets for this stuff.

“It’s not like I planned this!” Eren whines, slumping down in his chair and pulling the hoodie over his head again. It’s kind of embarrassing to come out as a zombie. “I just … woke up one day like this.”

“And you just decided to walk up to my door and let me know then? And then what? Eat me?” Jean hisses.

Although Eren is grateful that Jean is keeping his voice down, he wishes his friend would stop rubbing his face in exasperation. He finds it so … distracting the way Jean rubs his rosy red cheeks, soft and squishy under his palms. If Eren could just take a bite out of them …

He shakes his head violently. “Stop!” Eren says more to himself than to Jean. He startles himself with his own voice, so he proceeds more calmly, his voice lowered. “I mean … no, that’s not what I’m here for. I’m kind of like a vegetarian anyway.”

“Oh, so if I plop a salad down in front of you you'll be happy eating that instead?” Jean sits back with a snort, arms crossed over his chest. His biceps flex, muscles bulging. Eren doesn’t remember if Jean was ever that toned before, but turning into a zombie has made him a lot more perceptive to these types of things.

Eren sucks his cheeks in to keep from drooling. “No, I said kind of like a vegetarian. I still eat meat just not, you know, human meat.” It’s supposed to be a good thing, but he still winces as he says it. Not eating humans isn’t really an accomplishment.

“Good for you,” Jean says dryly. He raises an eyebrow. “So what are you here for? Don’t tell me you want me to … to mercy kill you.” They’ve never been the best of friends but Jean still shudders at the thought of having to do such a thing.

“No, no, nothing like that!” Eren says hastily. He wonders why those have to be his only options: killing people or being killed himself. Under his breath, he mumbles, “If I wanted someone to kill me, I probably would have asked Annie.”

“Yeah, she probably would have done it without batting an eyelash. Maybe even without you having to ask,” Jean says and chuckles in spite of the situation. The sound of his laugh makes the atmosphere less tense and Eren relaxes in his chair. Across from him, Jean looks at him with an expression of curiosity rather than one of suspicion. “So if you’re not here to eat me and you don’t want me to kill you, then what are you here for, Jaeger?”

Eren purses his lips and looks at Jean, wondering exactly how close they are. He would never put him at the top of his friend list although there have been occasions where Jean has been the first name on his hit list. They’ve gone through far too many fights over everything and nothing over the course of their friendship - over copying homework back in middle and high school, over whether or not the other owed them money, over who accidentally left Armin behind, and things that are too trivial to remember now. Asking to disguise your zombie friend as a normal human being is probably the ultimate test of friendship.

“I want you to help me.”

Jean sighs but, Eren notes, it’s not a rejection. He gets up from the table and runs his hand through his hair. “It’s way too early for this. I need coffee.” He opens a cupboard and pulls out a pack of instant coffee. Pausing, he looks over at Eren. “Do zombies drink coffee?”

Eren was never a fan of coffee even when he was alive. Now, the idea of drinking something so bitter makes him want to gag even more. Still, Eren shrugs. “Sure.”

----------

After a conversation over some (very disgusting coffee), Eren and Jean have agreed to a couple of things.

First is that, while they shouldn’t openly disclose the fact that Eren is a zombie, they should most definitely let a few people in the know because there’s only so much Eren and Jean can do on their own. Eren can’t have his mother knowing. It would probably break her poor heart to know. But they should at least let Armin know. Out of their friend group, he’s undeniable the smartest one. They’d have to break the news to him in a way that doesn’t frighten him, but Eren thinks that it’ll be manageable. They were debating on whether or not they should let Annie know - Jean was heavily against it but Eren was all for it - and agreed to let her know after consulting Armin for his opinion. They didn’t even want to think about Reiner and Bertholdt right now.

Second is that Eren can no longer feed on wild animals, but Jean will provide him with a supply of raw meat. The idea of eating meat that’s gone through some processing isn’t ideal, but Eren will take what he can get. At least Jean promised to get him some pig blood to douse the meat in too or else it would be even less appealing.

(“How do you even eat with those teeth of yours?” Jean asks, trying to peer into Eren’s mouth as the zombie scowls at him. “I mean, you have incisors and stuff, but your molars aren’t really ideal for tearing up food.”

“Oh, well, it kind of just … gets everywhere,” Eren admits unhappily.

“Disgusting.”)

Third is that Eren has to have a makeover.

“I can’t believe you still have that shitty job at the hair salon,” Eren mutters, referencing the hair salon in the center of town where everyone gets their hair cut. He stopped going there in middle school because he was tired of only having to choose between a buzz cut and a bowl cut, the only hairstyles that were offered to boys below the age of fifteen.

“Yeah, well, be glad because you’re in desperate need of a haircut,” Jean replies. He pulls a sheet over Eren’s shoulders, holding it in back with a safety pin. He threads his fingers through Eren’s limp hair and frowns. “You can’t make a prolific career as a makeup artist here unless you’re super passionate about high school girls going to prom or brides and their bridesmaids coming in for the occasional wedding. At least cosmetology school covered how to hold scissors.”

“Sorry,” Eren mumbles, suddenly feeling guilty. He’s felt unhappy and unfulfilled living in this small town, but he’s never really thought about how his friends have felt. Armin and Annie seemed more than content and Reiner enjoyed having his family nearby. Jean would complain every once in a while, but he never seemed too serious about it until now. He must feel as if his potential is wasted after getting a degree in cosmetology only to spend his days cutting hair for his neighbors down the street.

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing. It’s really not that big of a deal just working here.” Jean takes out his water bottle and spritzes Eren’s hair before running a brush through it. He takes out a pair of clippers, opening and closing them with a few clicks as he approaches Eren. “Do you mind how much I hack off? It’s been a while since you had it cut short and it probably wouldn’t look as … greasy.”

“Hack away.”

Eren’s hair flutters to the floor with a few quick snips, the only sound that fills the room.

“But you’re not like the other zombies,” Jean observes. After snipping most of Eren’s hair off, he trades his scissors for electric clippers that buzz to life with a monotone whir.

“I hope you’re not going to ask me about it,” Eren murmurs, eyes closed as he feels the clippers shear off the hair at the back of his neck. The feeling of Jean’s finger running through his hair, fingers brushing against the newly stubbled hair, feels so pleasant that Eren can’t help but lean back into it a little bit. It’s been so long since he’s interacted with another human. He hadn’t realized how much he’s been longing for a simple conversation, a simple touch, until now.

“Why not? You’re a zombie now, aren’t you?” Jean ruffles the top of Eren’s head, the part he hadn’t trimmed short, and retrieves his scissors again. He leans in front of Eren, brushing the hair forward. He’s meticulous about cutting hair, studying the way it falls in Eren’s face before making the first careful cut.

“I’m a zombie now,” Eren repeats with a snort, “but that doesn’t make me an expert on this. I’m completely new to this, in case you forgot.”

Jean’s right, though. Eren isn’t anything like the zombies they’ve seen before. Most of them are just sluggish monsters, feet trailing as they moan and groan out incomprehensible noises before they get their brains smashed in by whoever they managed to run into first - maybe the second-grader down the street or even the mailman going about their rounds. Eren, however, is completely coherent and his existence is very close to that of a normal human being aside from his decayed appearance. He’s not sure if he got lucky and rose up before the worms had gotten to him.

“You’re not, like, actively rotting, right?” Jean asks suddenly after finishing up on Eren’s bangs.

“What? No!” Eren says, mortified and offended at the same time. Is he really that disgusting? He wouldn’t dare consider himself handsome now - he probably wouldn’t have considered it even if he were alive - but he feels suddenly self-conscious at Jean’s question. Aside from his sickly gray skin and his slight loss of muscle, he hasn’t decayed much and he hadn’t noticed any further deterioration following his resurrection. And even if he were rotting, it’s not like he could control it.

“I was just asking,” Jean mutters.

“Whatever.”

Eren watches as Jean does some fancy thing with his scissors, cutting away at Eren’s hair. It’s taking far longer than Eren had expected. He probably would have shaved his entire head and been done with it, but Jean has always been more patient when it comes to taking care of appearances.

“Do I really look that bad?” Eren asks. He kind of wishes he hadn’t, but the words have already left his mouth. Jean can be brutal with his opinion at times.

Jean pauses for a moment, taking a second to look at Eren. He doesn’t scrutinize Eren the way he sometimes scrutinizes celebrities and models on magazine covers, but the intensity of his gaze still makes the zombie squirm uncomfortably as he makes his analysis. “You’ve looked better,” Jean finally replies, “but you don’t look terrible.”

“Oh.” It’s not the answer that Eren was expecting (although he’s not sure what kind of answer he wanted in the first place), but he’s content with it.

His friend goes back to attending to Eren’s hair. “Believe it or not, you might actually look better than when you were dating Historia by the time we’re done.”

“Historia?” At the mention of his girlfriend, Eren straightens his back, the movement startling Jean. The zombie grimaces apologetically when Jean shoots him a glare. He settles back to his original position and clears his throat, trying not to look too eager as he asks, “How is Historia?”

“Oh, um,” Jean says. It’s difficult to tell if his delayed answer is because he’s reluctant to respond or if it’s because he’s currently trying to figure out what to do with this stray lock of hair that’s sticking up on Eren’s head. “She’s, ah, dating someone else now.”

“She’s what?”

“Stop moving or I’ll buzz off the rest of your hair and give you a mohawk,” Jean scowls, forcibly shoving Eren back into the chair. He cuts a little more hair but stops after seeing the frown on his friend’s face. He reaches out to brush off the hair on Eren’s shoulder and says with a sigh, “I mean, you can’t really blame her. You disappeared without a trace.”

“Well, sorry for not leaving a message. If I knew I was getting murdered, I probably would have let someone know that I wasn’t coming home!” Eren sniffs. He sits back in his chair with a thud, arms folded across his chest. Historia dating someone else is the least of his problems right now, but he can’t help feeling a little miffed about the whole thing.

It’s not like he loved Historia or anything super romantic like that, but he did like her a lot and he was certain she reciprocated those feelings. They met during their junior year of college through mutual friends and started dating towards the end of their senior year. Unlike Eren, she came from the bustling city of Sina, so it surprised him that someone from such a big city would take a liking to someone like him. She enjoyed photography, majored in it, and managed to find a job at a news company in the city. After failing to secure a job in the same city, Eren had thought that was the end of the relationship, but she had offered to try long-distance for a while. It worked a lot better than Eren thought it would. The distance between Shiganshina and Sina was too far for them to commute to each other every day, but they settled on seeing each other every other week. Sometimes Eren would come visit Historia, but more often than not she would come and visit him, claiming that the quaint little town had a charming and relaxing atmosphere that she could never find in the city.

The last time he had seen Historia was a week before he had died. They went for a long walk around the town and he had taken her to the noodle shop he often frequented as a high schooler. She liked the broth and sent her compliments to the chef, an act that charmed the shop owner so much that a complimentary plate of dumplings was sent out to Historia and Eren.

The last time Eren had spoken to Historia was the night before he died. They were speaking on the phone about the next visit - if Eren should travel to Sina or Historia to Shiganshina - before Eren excused himself to go on a nightly walk in the forest. He promised her he would call her later that night. And then he never did. Shit.

“It’s not like she wasn’t worried about you,” Jean says. “I mean, she was pissed at first, but she looked for you when we all realized you were missing. We never found you, obviously, and it wasn’t like she was going to stay hung up on you forever. So she started dating someone else.”

It’s true, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“How long before she started dating someone else?” Eren asks. He probably shouldn’t ask - the answer will most likely make him feel worse than he’s already feeling - but he’s morbidly curious.

Jean finishes cutting Eren’s hair and ruffles the top of the zombie’s head one last time. “I’m not sure. Maybe half a year? A little longer? It’s not like I saw her regularly after you were gone.”

“I guess,” Eren mutters a little forlornly. He doesn’t even want to look at his reflection when Jean holds up a mirror, but his eyes flicker up anyway. He takes the mirror in his hand and looks unhappily at his reflection. A hand reaches up to play with his hair, still the same chestnut brown but a little more brittle than it used to be. The sides and back of his hair are shorn short in a neat undercut but the top of his hair is still long, long enough to be swept towards the front and hang in the way of his water, green eyes. Looking at his reflection, his hair is really the only nice-looking thing about him. The rest of him still looks sad and ugly and pale.

“Let me do your makeup now,” Jean tells him, already opening up his makeup kit.

“Fine,” Eren sighs. He sets the mirror facedown on the nearby table and frowns as Jean wipes off the dust and grime on his skin with a wet wipe. He doesn’t like how cold and damp it is as Jean cleans his face - as a zombie, Eren finds the cold to be unbearable - and shudders as the wet wipe brushes against his cheek. As Jean finishes up cleaning his face, Eren asks, “Is the person she’s dating … nice?”

“I guess.” Jean inspects the tiny bottles of moisturizer in his kit before deciding on a small white container with a brand name in neat black print that Eren doesn’t recognize. It doesn’t smell like anything, but it’s cool as Jean gently pats the moisturizer into Eren’s skin. “Historia’s girlfriend actually lives here. She moved here after you disappeared though. Came here after getting a job for our local newspaper. They must have met during one of the searches we did for you and, well.”

He’s thankful that Jean leaves the sentence unfinished. Eren’s imagination can fill in the blank. He should probably be happy that Historia hasn’t spent the last year worrying about him, but he isn’t thrilled to hear that she’s moved on either.

“Hey, can you stop frowning?” Jean asks. He waves his hand in front of his face, imitating Eren’s expression in an exaggerated manner. “You’re giving yourself wrinkles and your skin is hard enough to work with already.”

“Sorry,” Eren mumbles.

“‘s fine,” Jean assures. He screws the cap back onto the jar of moisturizers and plucks a makeup sponge, a brush, and a tube of primer. He squirts a little of the primer - a light yellow gel that comes out the size of a dime - before dabbing at it with his makeup sponge and begins to rub it across Eren’s face. “I’ve never had a zombie as a client. If you end up looking good, it means that all those years at cosmetology school weren’t a waste.”

Even if Jean doesn’t do well and Eren ends up looking like a zombie in clown makeup, Eren doubts that it’ll be a full representation of his friend’s full talents. Jean had a knack for art when they were kids; he knew exactly how to blend colors and shade. He even won a few art contests here and there back in middle school and high school. His talents seemed to transfer naturally when he decided to become a makeup artist, not that he’s had the chance to display them after finishing cosmetology school. Jean’s gifts go pretty much unused now (except for on the few occasions that Annie decides she wants to go out with a little more intricate makeup), but those types of skills just don’t go away. Of course, Eren would never say any of these things to Jean’s face. He had never complimented Jean and he wasn’t going to start now just because he started a new life.

Instead, Eren says, “You’re painting me yellow.”

Jean clicks his tongue as he begins to smooth out the primer over Eren’s skin. He’s gentle as he does it and Eren has to wonder if he’s this careful with his other clients or if he’s just cautious because Eren’s zombie skin is more delicate than normal human skin. “It’s just to help with your complexion. It’s really pale now, so this is to help cover up all those veins that we can see and hide the dark circles under your eyes. I probably would have used a pink primer if you were normal. Or something to help moisturize and lighten your skin.”

Eren hums. He always knew makeup was complicated, but it’s another thing to actually sit down and experience it for himself. He’d never be able to do this on his own.

“I’m gonna look fresh to death,” Eren murmurs as Jean moves in to apply some foundation. “Drop dead gorgeous.”

Jean rolls his eyes, pausing to say, “I’m very good at making people look amazing, but I can also make you look even worse if I wanted to.”

“No, thank you,” Eren squeaks, shutting up immediately.

Normally, Eren wouldn’t bother making these types of jokes. Puns and play on words is the kind of humor that Reiner usually resorts to. If anything, Eren and the rest of his friends try to avoid it lest they annoy Annie with such nonsensically stupid humor, but Eren feels as if he doesn’t have a choice but to resort to such simple jokes if only to distract himself from everything that’s happening in front of him.

The thing about being a zombie is that everyone, no matter who they are, looks like an attractive piece of meat. This includes the drunk hikers that stumbled into the woods at night that Eren sometimes saw from a distance, the farmer that Eren never liked as a child because he always smelled of manure, and Jean, the very same Jean that Eren had once called horse-face back when they were kids. Jean has since grown into his exceptionally long face and is, at least what the mothers in town would call, handsome, an adjective that Eren and his zombified brain would heartily agree with.

Jean is inches away from Eren’s face as he dabs in foundation and concealer - both far too dark to match Eren’s current skin tone but are very close to his original color - and Eren can get a good look at his brown eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration. People often said that Jean and Eren had similar eyes when they were children, something Eren didn’t really understand because his eyes were much bigger than Jean and also a completely different color. People would probably have a different opinion now because Eren’s eyes are now wet and watery all the time, but Jean’s brown eyes are bright, shining with intensity despite the dark bags under his eyes. Eren just wants to pluck them out and plop them in his mouth, crunch them between his teeth. They’d probably be as plump and juicy as an octopus ball.

Up close, everything about Jean looks perfect. Even if Eren has never eaten a human in his life, Jean would probably be his ideal prey. He’s a decent size, tall with some lean muscle and not a lot of fat. Eren could probably feast on him for days. He can’t imagine Jean tasting like beef - he’s not muscular or meaty enough. He’d probably be more similar to the taste of venison: rich and earthy with a slightly sweet aftertaste. The texture would probably be the same too, Eren thinks hungrily, smooth and firm but juicier and more succulent than beef or even pork.

Even Jean’s skin looks enticing. Eren had never been one to notice people’s skin. He didn’t care about blemishes or acne or anything like that. He still doesn’t care even though he’s sitting so close he can see every mole, every acne scar, every single pore on Jean’s skin. Those little imperfections hardly bother him. Those things won’t affect taste and texture, Eren is sure. He does, upon his close inspection of Jean’s skin, have a newfound appreciation for healthy skin. Jean’s is so shiny and clean that he’s practically glowing. It’s nice and tight pulled over smooth bone and firm muscle, keeping all this flesh nice and juicy. His lips look especially plump and pink, probably treated with some sort of lip care routine that Eren could never be bothered to make into a habit. Eren doesn’t remember if Jean’s lips were always that nice or if he’s just noticing it now. He kind of wants to lean over and have a taste, see if they’re as sweet as they look before he nibbles on them and rips them off, swallowing them whole.

“You’re drooling,” Jean tells him, snapping Eren out of his ravenous reverie.

“Sorry,” Eren mutters. He’d probably blush if zombies were capable of blushing. He reaches up to wipe the drool from his mouth but Jean hastily smacks his zombie hand away and wipes at the corner of Eren’s mouth with a wet wipe.

He shouldn’t be having these thoughts about Jean. For one thing, he just promised Jean that he wouldn’t eat any people. As much as Eren wants to chomp on Jean’s face right now, eating his childhood friend would be very traumatic. He knows way too many things about Jean to eat him like he’s some poor rabbit right now. In fact, knowing so much about Jean should be a huge turn-off for Eren. Jean chews on the end of his writing utensils. He has terrible morning breath especially after he’s drunk coffee. He lets his dishes soak overnight before actually washing them. Why would Eren want to eat someone like that? Of course, it’s hard to remember all of that when Jean is sitting in front of Eren the way he is, his back hunched slightly and his brow furrowed in concentration while he nibbles on his bottom lip as he carefully applies some mascara to Eren’s eyelashes to make them look less sparse.

Looking at Jean is definitely making Eren hungrier, so he squeezes his eyes shut hoping that not seeing Jean will make Eren forget just how delicious-looking his friend is. Unfortunately, that seems to make everything worse. Living by himself and hunting for his own food, becoming a predator to so many unsuspecting prey, has only heightened Eren’s other senses like smell and touch.

Eren breathes in and his lungs are flooded with Jean’s scent. He smells sweet and earthy, like a mix of a freshly mowed lawn or rain-soaked soil. It overpowers the cold, sterile smell of makeup, all of them claiming to smell like flowers but really just smell like they’ve come out of a factory. Eren wants to bury his face in Jean’s scent, get lost in it as he presses his nose into Jean’s neck. It would probably be even better when he cuts Jean open, his fragrance mixing with the metallic smell of blood.

God, Eren can just feel the saliva pooling at the back of his throat. He doesn’t want to get scolded for ruining his makeup again, so he tries to swallow it down only to choke on it.

“You alright?” Jean asks.

Eren chances a glance at his friend, cracking open an eye carefully. “I’m fine,” Eren manages even though he’s the complete opposite.

“Okay, let me finish you up then.” Jean sets Eren’s makeup with a mist of some sort. (“It’s to help your makeup stay on,” the makeup artist explains. “I’ll probably have to redo some of it in the afternoon, but we’ll think about that later.”) He finishes it up by applying a nude lipstick to help cover up the cracks and the color of blue-gray lips.

It’s difficult not to be fixated on Jean’s fingers, especially when they’re so close to Eren’s mouth. They’re long and slender, the type of fingers an artist has. Eren wants to wrap his lips around them and taste the salt on Jean’s skin. If he sucks hard enough, the fingers will probably detach with a deliciously clean pop! Jean’s hands actually remind Eren of the chicken feet he and his friends used to get at the dim sum place near their university whenever they felt like treating themselves at the end of the term. Chicken feet didn’t taste nearly as good when Eren was a zombie. They were all skin and bone, not to mention the claws that nearly cut Eren’s tongue every time he ate them. Jean’s hands look like a more elegant version of chicken feet, his skin smooth and fingers meatier than the bony digits of a chicken.

“Purse your lips for me,” Jean says.

Eyes still fixed on Jean’s hands, the zombie obeys, frowning at the waxy feeling on his lips. It turns him off to the idea of eating Jean a little bit. He’d probably ruin his makeup and all of Jean’s hard work would go to waste.

Jean studies Eren for a moment before nodding, satisfied. “Good. Try not to touch your face when you go outside or else you’ll smudge everything.” He caps the lipstick and begins to pack everything away in his kit before he notices a hand mirror he’s placed face down beside the kit. Taking it, he hands it to Eren. “Here, take a look.”

Hesitantly, Eren takes the mirror and gazes on his reflection. He’s not sure what he’s expecting to see. When he was a zombie, he only saw his reflection a handful of times in pools of water and in the sideview mirrors of the farmer’s truck whenever he passed by. Despite knowing his true form, seeing himself with such lifeless gray skin and scraggly hair hanging in his face, the light that was always in his eyes when he was alive absent, was such a shock that he vowed to never look at himself again. Eren’s done his best to avoid looking at his reflection since then, only catching a glimpse every now and then and flinching in horror every time. But looking at his reflection now…

His skin is no longer a dull, sickly gray but a healthy tan. It’s not the exact same shade he was back when he was alive - it’s probably a few shades lighter - but it’s definitely an improvement. His makeup isn’t too apparent, which he appreciates. It’s one thing to disguise himself as alive and another thing entirely to show up in town a year later looking like a model. He just has some light blush in his cheeks and his lipstick hides how ugly and chapped his lips were before he came to Jean. Eren’s hair looks more socially acceptable now that it’s not hanging in greasy strands around his face. The undercut on the sides makes him look younger, a little livelier, and his hair is long enough on top to cover some of his eyes. It’s not enough to obscure his sight but enough to distract anyone from seeing how watery and tired his eyes look. As long as people aren’t looking too closely at him, they might just think he hasn’t slept in a while. He looks good. Great even. Jean was probably joking, but he really did make Eren look better than he did when he was alive.

“I think you might have done too good of a job,” Eren mumbles. He’s about to reach up and touch his face, but Jean latches onto his wrist and shakes his head. Ah, right. No touching.

“Don’t underestimate yourself, Jaeger.”

Eren wonders if that’s supposed to be a compliment. He’s about to ask Jean, but Jean is already disappearing into his room.

“It took longer than I thought it would to do your makeup,” says Jean. There are sounds of him shuffling through his closet for something to wear. He pops out and throws Eren an old oversized hoodie and some dark jeans. “Wear those. Keep your hood up while we’re out. I don’t know if we should tell people you’re back, at least not yet. Let’s meet Armin first.”

“Alright.”

He stares at the hoodie in his hands, wondering if he should put it on. Should he strip? It feels weird to undress in Jean’s living room, but it’s not like Jean hasn’t seen him in a locker room before. Then again, that was back when Eren’s body wasn’t all … gross. Still, Jean was actually pretty considerate about Eren’s current appearance aside from the question about decomposing. Ah, fuck it.

Eren begins to take off his worn-out shirt and jeans, leaving them discarded on the floor. He pulls on the sweater first, careful not to mess up his makeup in the process. As soon as he puts his head through the hoodie, he immediately regrets it. He’s met with Jean’s overwhelming scent - warm and comforting and absolutely delicious. He breathes it in a little too hard before realizing that it’ll be awkward explaining to Jean if he’s caught in the act. Hurriedly, he pulls the hoodie over his head and wiggles his arms through the holes. He’s in the process of pulling the jeans over his legs when Jean steps out of his room.

“Do you need help?” Jean is changed out of his pajamas and into casual outerwear - khaki pants and an overcoat thrown over a button-up. He has a knitted scarf wrapped around his neck, probably something Armin made when he was stressed out the night before a council meeting. On his head rests a matching knitted beanie. He looks so nicely put together that Eren feels embarrassed standing in his living room half-dressed.

“N-no,” Eren stammers as he tugs the jeans over his calves and then his thighs. He wasn’t sure they would fit. He and Jean weren’t exactly the same size; Jean was always long and lanky even before he had his growth spurt, but Eren must have lost a lot of muscle mass during the zombification process because the jeans are a little roomy around his thighs. At least the cuffs are too short, ending an inch above his ankles, so Eren hasn’t grown shorter while he was buried under the ground. He straightens out his clothes and pulls his hood up, looking at Jean expectantly. “Where are we going?”

“To talk to Armin,” Jean replies. He glances at his phone and nods at a text message before tucking the phone back in his pocket. Plucking his keys and wallet from the drawer, he walks to the door and opens it, beckoning for Eren to follow him. “Come on. Let’s figure out what to do with you before you accidentally eat someone.”

“Right,” Eren chuckles nervously, thankful that Jean isn’t able to see the nervous sweat that’s currently breaking out on the back of the zombie’s neck. He wants to keep his promise of not eating people to Jean, he really does. More than anything, he wants to keep it to at least prove that he’s nothing like the other mindless zombies that have been roaming around and getting their heads smashed in. There has to be some difference between him and them, Eren thinks, but it’s hard to believe when he’s busy staring at Jean’s backside and his long, long legs that seem to stretch on for days. It’s even more difficult when his eyes settle on Jean’s ass because his khakis hug his curves too well and it’s impossible for Eren to not look. Eren wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into Jean’s ass and taste that sweet, peachy flesh on his tongue.

God, Eren thinks with a whimper as he pulls the hoodie over his face and forces himself to look at the ground so that he’s no longer tempted to eat his friend alive. This is going to be the death of me.

#erejean #how to be a zombie series #eren jaeger #jean kirstein #zombie au #zombie detective au #snk

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kookadoodle · 5 years ago

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call you at midnight

PLOT: Insomnia was always a bad thing until now

PAIRING: Yoongi x reader GENRE: fluff, minor angst, S2L!AU WARNINGS: idk, yoongi smokes (?) WORDCOUNT: 2.8k A/N: it’s been a little while, but i finally wrote something again xx

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It was late, when you first met him. The sky was dark with stars sprayed across its canvas, looking down on you and bathing you in their subtle light. The air was fresh and inviting but you had not dressed yourself properly for the cold. You were to blame for that. A thin pair of black jeans, a t-shirt and a flannel did not do much against the chilly autumn wind. But you did not care. You had to get away from home, and you were not turning back now. You went for a walk at night to be by yourself under the moon’s pitiful eyes. You always found the world to be more forgiving, when it was darkened from the sun’s absence in the sky. The calm and quiet of the night had soothed you plenty of times before. You hoped that it would work its magic that night.

It was the scent of a cigarette that gave his presence away before you even knew that he was there. But you did not register him in time before you turned the corner and bumped into his frame and halted you in your steps. He looked at you in surprise, and your eyes met, slightly widened. His skin was pale in contrast to his black clothing and bucket hat and his features were softly rounded. The streetlight gently reflected off his leather jacket, and his calm nature reflected in his eyes. “Oh, sorry,” you spoke quietly, almost failing to deliver the words, but he heard you. “It’s okay,” he said back, face mask covering his chin yet revealing his lips and button-like nose. Those were the first words spoken between the two of you. You would not remember later what exactly made you start talking to him or ask if you could join him on the steps, but those first exchanged words led to more, and a late conversation and a shared cigarette later, the two of you had become new acquaintances under the dark sky. You shared deep thoughts, hopes, and dreams before you even knew each other’s names. You could not explain why, but it felt so natural in a way. The two of you clicked somehow, and maybe if it had been any other time of the day, you would not have. You guessed it was the night working its magic as you had hoped.

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Days later, you went for another walk around the same time, and you met him again. He was sitting on the steps outside his apartment, smoking a late cigarette and scrolling through his phone. He invited you this time to take place beside him, and you did. With that, the two of you became friends, who knew each other’s names, and soon, it resulted in meeting every other night, where you would talk and bond through your shared insomnia. However, one night was different than the rest. It was about six months after you first met when you told Yoongi that you had to move across town. You could no longer meet up with him and hang out on the steps to his apartment, and the thought of suddenly having to be without you made his heart drop. He had not expected you to mean so much to him in such a short amount of time, but somehow, there was a comfort in your presence that he had so easily gotten used to. “Oh,” was the only reaction, he showed, yet you could tell that he was disappointed through just that one word. But you could not change the way things were. Your parents had decided on moving for you, and you could not ask them to stay because of a boy you met in the neighborhood. They would not understand, and they would not change their minds if they did. “We don’t have to stop talking, though,” Yoongi stated, looking over at you with stars reflected in his irises. You could tell in his expression that he hoped you would agree. With a nod, you did, and the two of you finally exchanged numbers, so you could stay in touch despite the distance, you would face. The next couple of times you met up, the mood was different. Sad in a way, but also lighter somehow as you both wanted to get most out of the little time, you had left. You could have questioned why the two of you immediately connected like you did, but you did not. And neither did he. The important part was that you both wanted to keep talking, and together with determination, you could. On your last night together, you sat on the steps and talked like you always did, when Yoongi took off his hat and put it on your head. Later, when you had to leave, he did not properly say goodbye. He merely told you to keep the hat and not forget about him. He was a man of few words, but those he spoke said a lot. You promised him that you would see each other soon again, and you knew that you would keep it. You could not forget about Yoongi if you tried, and distance was not about to break the deep connection you had with him. Neither of you would let it.

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

Time went by quickly after you moved since there were so many things to get done and get used to, but Yoongi and you stayed in touch. You texted each other every day about little things to keep each other company throughout the sunlit hours. Then later at night, when both of you were restless under the moon, you would talk over the phone in the same manner that you used to on the steps to his apartment. You would tell him about your new school and your difficulty of making new friends, and he would listen and calm your nerves when he said that no matter what, you would always have him. He was sweet like that. Even if he looked tough in his all-black outfit and spoke with very little emotion to the people around him, you would always hear his laugh through the phone and imagine his gummy smile on the other end. One time, he called you at midnight like he usually did, but you noticed that it sounded different as soon as you picked up. “Hello. Yoongi?” you asked, sitting up in your bed in your dark room only lit from the one window. “I miss you,” you heard him pouting. It took a minute before the words were registered in your mind, and it made your heart flutter. “Are you okay? Where are you?” you asked as you noticed the noise around him. It did not sound like his usual spot. “I’m at a party with some friends,” Yoongi answered with a sigh, seeming unsatisfied with the event. You could not remember anything about a party, so you guessed, he had not told you about it. It had probably been a spontaneous thing. “Are you not having fun?” you asked, worrying that he was feeling left out. He sighed again. “I don’t know, maybe. I can’t really tell,” he said. His words gave away how unbothered he truly was with it all. “I miss you, though,” he repeated to show its importance, and this time you had to respond to it. “I miss you too,” you said as you nipped your duvet between your fingers. It felt a bit odd to know that he was not sitting alone on his steps as usual but surrounded by other people, who could ask him who he spoke with. It made you wonder what he would say about you to his other friends. If he even had said anything at all. “I’m not drunk by the way, so this isn’t some kind of drunken confession or anything,” he explained to you, not wanting you to think that his words were influenced. “Okay, good,” you grinned as your cheeks blushed at the thought. You silently appreciated his inability to see you then as the thought of his sober mind wanting you to know set your face aflame. “Can I come see you?” he asked, and you stiffened for a second as you worried, he could read your mind. “What, now!?” you asked a bit stunned. Your reaction made him laugh. “No, but soon. We haven’t seen each other for like two months,” he said, the annoyance present in his statement. You agreed with a hum. “Okay, sure. But why don’t I come visit you, instead?” you offered, and Yoongi felt your hesitance against his suggestion. “You still haven’t told your parents about me, have you?” he asked suspiciously. You bit your lip as you thought of what to say. “I’m sorry, I just don’t think they would understand,” you explained to him. “It’s okay,” he said truthfully in return. “But you will come visit me, then?” he asked for confirmation, and you smiled. “Yes, I will,” you said back. It both made you excited and nervous. You knew him well, but the thought of seeing him again felt different than before you went away. Suddenly, it felt more important somehow.

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

The late afternoon you went to see him, Yoongi was standing and waiting for you as you stepped off the bus. The sight unwillingly made your heart flutter, yet you tried to hide it from him. It was just so good to see his face again after what felt like forever, and Yoongi would agree. With the right person, two months can feel like that. The two of you got coffee and chose the longer path home, so you could drink and talk on the way. At first, you were both grinning a bit excessively, but you figured that suddenly seeing each other again had that effect on you. Eventually, it turned more natural, and the usual flow came into place, especially after the sky turned dark, becoming a more familiar setting. When you came to his apartment, you realized that you had never actually been inside. You had only sat on the steps with him since both of you enjoyed the night’s fresh air, but in those six months, the two of you never went inside together. You guessed it was a way of keeping the magic you had. There was just something beautiful about the mystery it left, knowing what the other’s story was without getting directly involved. But visiting him defied it, which meant that you were entering a new stage of your friendship. Waiting for him to unlock the door and let you in, you got nervous as you thought of what your parents would think, but you chose to shake it off. That was an issue for another day, you decided. His apartment was different than what you had expected. It was minimalistic and bright instead of the dark and grungy images you had in mind. The place was actually neat and inviting, which made you realize that just like his apartment, Yoongi was that way too. At first, you would expect something more rebellious, but in reality, he was much softer on the inside than he looked. He just did not care much for proving himself to other people. He did not care whether or not his image was a true reflection of who he was. As long as he got to be who he wanted, he was good, and you deeply admired that about him. You sat down on his couch, and he turned on the TV, wanting to keep the mood casual as it had been until then. You agreed on something to watch, and Yoongi pulled you close to rest against his chest before laying out a blanket over the two of you. Your widened eyes immediately found his face, cheeks pink-dusted while he scoffed. “Don’t look at me like that. We both want to, so I’m just making it happen,” he said shyly, eyes on the TV instead of on you as he barely had the courage to do it in the first place, much less explain why. He hoped, he did not have to, and you let him off the hook, simply smiling and laying your head back down. It was even nicer than he had imagined it to be. “Y/N?” Yoongi then said, and you hummed in return, feeling a bit sleepy, which Yoongi could sense in your response. He could feel the way you got slightly heavier on his chest as you relaxed, almost drifting off, and he decided to wait. “Never mind,” he said, and with that, you shut your eyes for a bit.

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

Waking up from your nap, you were still in Yoongi’s arms, but the closeness suddenly overwhelmed you a bit. You sat up and met his eyes. “I think I fell asleep,” you said embarrassed, but Yoongi’s soft smile put you at ease. “Don’t worry, it was nice,” he stated lightly. With the absence of your weight on him, Yoongi got up from his seat and went to fix you two something to eat. Being a good cook, he made you something amazing. You sat for long at the table after eating. You talked and laughed, and time went by so fast. Suddenly, you had to call it a night as you had a bus to catch. The last one would be leaving at 10 pm, and you really had to be on it, so you put on your jacket and shoes. Yoongi did too, and despite your efforts of explaining to him that you would not mind walking there alone, he insisted. He felt bad enough about you taking the bus by yourself as it was. Making sure you got safely on the bus was the least he could do, and honestly, he wanted to. So, you made your way to the vacant bus stop to wait under the beloved night sky, and without a word, Yoongi slipped his hand in yours, not wanting to waste a single moment. You were slightly taken aback at how affectionate and touchy he had been, but at the same time, it put a permanent smile on your flustered face. As you stood there, your curiosity got the better of you, and you had to bring it up. “Uh, did you have something to say earlier?” you asked gently, referring to the moment before you had fallen asleep. Yoongi then remembered it too, and his free hand came up to scratch at his neck. “Oh, yeah, that,” he said. You ran your thumb over his, encouraging him to go on. “Okay, so I wanted to say that I am really glad you came today and seeing you made me realize just how much I’ve missed you since you moved away,” he started as his shy eyes could barely meet yours. “I like you. A lot. And I want you to know that I’m interested in you… as more than a friend,” he explained as he lifted his gaze to meet yours, searching for an answer in your expression. Calming to his beating heart, he had found that his words had made you smile. However, much too soon for his liking, he also saw your bus approaching, and he knew what that meant. “Oh, that’s me,” you said as you noticed it too, getting a bit pressed with time. Lastly, you ran your thumb over his again with gleaming eyes. “I’m interested in that too,” you answered, and it relieved him. He wanted to kiss you then. Badly. But the bus was already here, and he knew that he did not have the time. Yes, he could choose to give you a quick peck on the lips, but even as tempting as that was, he wanted to savor it. The first time he was going to kiss you, he would kiss you right. The bus stopped before you and opened its doors. You let go of Yoongi’s hand and stepped inside, turning to look at him for one last time tonight. It was 10 pm, but it did not nearly feel late enough for you to go home. Yoongi felt the same way, and you knew it from the last words he spoke. “I’ll call you at midnight,” he said as the doors closed between you. But you could still see him smiling through the glass, and he saw your smile too, following it as far as he could see while the bus drove you away. He could not wait till midnight.

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nonasidesstuff · 4 years ago

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Dimension au ficlet

note!!! this is part of my dimension hopper au! everything about it can be found on my blog under the tag #tss dimension hopper au

i wasnt planning on writing anything else so soon but. i wrote this in like 2 hours and now its 3 am. ive lost control of my life

also i just really wanted soft patton and janus

also also this is entirely unedited bc i wrote it in one sitting at 1 am so if you see any glaring mistakes please let me know!!

im tagging @greenninjagal-blog bc if i remember correctly you wanted to see more

if anyone else wants me to tag them in these then idk how fast they’ll be coming but i can certainly tag if you want me to!

Patton was tired.

He wasn’t sure what time it was but he knew it was after midnight. Patrol has been long and tiring lately, what with Iris having broken her leg last week and the rest of their group needing to adjust their schedules to fill in the time she would have been out.

He ran and leapt over a wide alley.

He’d taken all of the late night patrols for the past week to make it easier on their leader, Cherry. Iris’ injury had hit her the hardest. The two were very close, having joined the team at the same time and being the longest running magical girls on the current roster.

Patton stifled a yawn. He crossed the roof and hopped across another alley onto the next building.

Monster activity had been on the rise in their part of the country lately, enough for other teams to be relocated nearby in case the local teams got overwhelmed. It was concerning. All teams were on the lookout for anything that could be the cause.

Patton reached the end of the block and leapt down to the ground, stumbling on the landing. He crossed over to the next street and prepared to jump back up to the rooftops-

“Bell!”

Patton stumbled again as he whipped around, trying to both see who called him and right himself without falling flat on his face. One of his teammates was on the roof of the building next door.

“Snap, what are you doing out so late?” he asked, puzzled. His tail started wagging at the sight of his teammate. “It’s not your day to patrol.”

Snapdragon frowned. “I’m here to tell you to stop. Your patrol was supposed to be over-“ he looked down at his watchless wrist “-three hours ago.”

“It’s fine. I can keep going.” as if to prove him wrong, Patton immediately had to hold back another yawn.

Snapdragon gave him a look of disbelief. “Right. And you haven’t been doing this every night? For the past week?” He retorted. “Is there some other fox-eared guy that I don’t know about?”

Patton huffed and crossed his arms, his tail stopping. “Could be. Maybe another group moved nearby.”

Snapdragon rolled his eyes and leapt down right next to Patton. He startled backwards, flailing his arms and tail around as he tried to catch his balance.

“See? You’re so tired you can’t even stand straight.”

“There’s nothing straight about me.”

A surprised snort of laughter and a little grin escaped Snapdragon before he managed to catch himself. Patton grinned at the reaction.

“Don’t think you can distract me with gay jokes. You need to go home and sleep.” He tugged gently on Patton’s ear. Patton hadn’t realized they were drooping from how tired he was.

“But I’m f-” his protest was cut off by another yawn, his ear flicking out of the scaled boy’s hand. “-ine! We need to find out where all these monsters are coming from!”

“Nope. Go to bed.”

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not. You need sleep.”

“But I’m really fi-“

“Go. To. Bed. Bluebell.” Snapdragon punctuated each word with a clap.

The noise startled him, knocking a giggle loose at the sight of Snapdragon clapping aggressively at him. And once he started the giggles kept coming. His sheer exhaustion making everything ten times funnier than it should be.

Once the giggles died down some Snapdragon spoke again, a softness in his voice. “Seriously you’re exhausted. We’re worried about you.”

For the first time that night Patton really took stock of himself. His ears were droopy, his tail limp, his arms and legs shaking slightly from the strain of holding himself up for so long. “Oh. I guess I didn’t realize just how bad it got.” He said in realization. His ears folded backwards. “Sorry Snap.”

Snapdragon sighed. He grabbed Patton’s wrist and started gently pulling him down the street. “C’mon. I’ll walk you home.” He looked back at Patton with a stern face. “If you do this again I’m just going to knock you out. Then you’ll have to sleep.” There was a joking glint in his eyes.

“Okay okay you win!” Patton’s giggles started up again. “No more late night patrols.”

“Good.” Snapdragon said in relief, letting go of his wrist. “I’m holding you to that.”

They walked in companionable silence until they got to Patton’s house, Snapdragon leading the way and Patton trying not to fall asleep on his feet. They stopped on the street in front of his house.

“Thanks for knocking some sense into me.” Patton said quietly looking up at Snapdragon.

He smirked. “All in a day’s work. Someone has to keep you in line.”

Patton snorted and punched him lightly in the arm before walking away. “Yeah. Best friend privileges am I right?” He called over his shoulder. He paused at the door and looked back at the scaled boy. “Goodnight, Janus.”

Janus smiled warmly at him. “Goodnight, Patton. Take care of yourself.”

Patton grinned and went inside, collapsing on the couch and immediately passing out for the next 12 hours.

~~~~

So! If you’re confused about the flower thing, magical girl animes tend to give their groups code names (sailor moon, mew strawberry, etc) and so i decided their team uses flowers!

the team members mentioned here don’t really have any big roles but i thought id give a little description

Cherry Blossom- leader- color: pink

Iris- second in command- color: purple- Cherry’s best friend

also i accept constructive criticism!!!!!! im new to writing so if you have any tips please let me know!!!!

#long post #sanders sides #my posts #my fics #patton sanders #deceit sanders #janus sanders #platonic moceit #magical girl au #tss dimension hopper au

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auncyen · 5 years ago

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writing scraps from this year

- "Everybody's Fool" [...I'm pretty sure this had no context besides being an Evanescence song that I like and that sounds like it could fit Joker, especially in a Palace fic.]

- Ryuji worries--he messed up and killed Okumura's shadow, too aggressive, everyone is appalled at the thought, tells him no -Ren brought Futaba in on the significance of Akechi knowing about the Metaverse, upsetting Morgana [both these bullet points were for things in Shuffle Time, but I'm pretty sure I'd probably use them for independent fic if I used them now. Okumura goes down REALLY easily once you get to him himself, and I just had this stray thought that, especially since head injuries can be unpredictable in the real world--like, Ryuji in the boss fight, worked up for Haru's sake because shitty abusive dads, just winds up and absolutely slams Okumura's Shadow, surprised but satisfied that he instantly goes down--and the Shadow seems fine, if weak, in the conversation afterward, so all's well that ends well, and even after the mental shutdown Ryuji doesn't immediately think of it--but then one night he just happens to think of the way his bat connected and Okumura's head banging against the helmet when he hit the floor and concussions and sometimes they're fatal and oh god he ruined another team, it's his fault Okumura had a shutdown, he killed someone-- thankfully he goes to Ren about this before he goes to Haru or the police, but he's nearly having a panic attack and Ren is just like no. NO. This was not you, something else was going on, calm down. just hold on and we'll figure it out. I imagine this is while Ren is suspecting Akechi but right before he's sure enough to tell the team so like. HE'S EXTRA PISSED OFF BECAUSE NOT ONLY IS ONE FRIEND'S PARENT DEAD, ANOTHER FRIEND IS BLAMING THEMSELVES FOR IT the point of Ren telling Futaba about Akechi early on was just to add another little wrinkle to Morgana getting upset enough to leave the team, I think. He'd felt "special" as Ren's confidant at least, and he'd liked knowing that only he and Ren knew about Akechi even if he knew they'd tell everyone else as soon as he showed anything concerning. But Ren thought it might be prudent to know about Akechi's background, so he asked Futaba to look into it as well as why Akechi was a person of interest, and Morgana understood that it made sense to tell Futaba, it just...became another way that he was no longer needed/important.]

Ryuji & tutoring? Ren paying Kawakami to help him figure out study method for Ryuji--doesn't want her going directly to Ryuji because it might embarass him/make him stubborn - or Makoto tutored Ryuji when he was a first year--both found it frustrating, but he got acceptable grades before the Kamoshida incident happened--she wants to do better this time. (Sojiro helps them figure out what's getting in Ryuji's way, gives a mini-lecture to both of them? Tells Makoto that if she's going to be in charge of people she needs to help them achieve their best rather than forcing them to follow a method that doesn't work for them)

-Ren has a guess that there are PT-like people in hometown of Inaba, but for the completely wrong reason-- Adachi's sudden confession seems like a change of heart, as well as the oddities in the confession (which probably aren't public but Futaba would hack that shit as soon as Ren started talking about the odd midnight channel and weird murders and supernatural-seeming shit and everyone goes METAVERSE???) - Ryuji thinks it's a shame the group never went big, Ren points out that they couldn't really do much in sleepy Inaba - the overall thrust is that Ren is deeply invested in being able to continue Metaverse activities even after he goes home, and Futaba and Morgana both enable this instead of thinking more and becoming concerned about why this is so overly important to Ren

- Sae gets Metanav on her phone? [...This is...all I wrote down for this. as an aside of the whole interrogation room plot, Sae would theoretically be granted the app on her phone--at least, if Yaldabaoth thought she'd be useful to Ren. Since canon does nothing with this, I guess he didn't. BUT WHAT IF? idk]

- Mishima accidentally Metaverse with Ryuji [THIS IS ACTUALLY HOW I WROTE IT? lol the idea was he was telling Ryuji about a Phansite request while they were trying to verify its authenticity, so naturally he manages to hit all the keywords while they're in the vicinity of the Palace] - Ryuji panics, gets them back immediately, tells Mishima to NOT mess with any apps that might appear on his phone - tells the others at PT meeting -and Ren just...sighs. "now he's going to flip when he doesn't get the app" - hold up, Ren. How you know that? everyone pumps Ren for more info on Igor once he comes up, Mona is tipped off that something is wrong with Ren [this was...actually another thing that was supposed to come up in Shuffle Time! GEE, MAYBE THE ISSUE I'VE HAD WITH SHUFFLE TIME IS TRYING TO DO TOO MANY THINGS. basically this was playing with both the fact that Ren doesn't really seem nice to Mishima sometimes and that Ren knows more about the app than the others do and for some reason doesn't tell them. Ren is pretty sure Mishima's not ready to awaken to a persona, so he'd be useless in the metaverse, so he's not a candidate for the app. While he's right, at least within the timeline of the fic, the way he acts about it rubs Ryuji wrong and the fact that he knows things about the app and hasn't been saying rubs EVERYONE wrong. This was supposed to be set before the rank where Mishima is challenged to change himself and Ren acknowledges afterward that even if Mishima isn't ready for a Persona yet, he has more strength than he gave him credit for. He also apologizes to Mishima for holding a grudge about the leaked record and tries to be kinder to him afterward.]

KO Gamplay & Story integration -Ren gets knocked out in mementos, bad fight - cut to interrogation room: "...And that's when 'Ren' died." - Sae is not impressed & Ren needs to stop bsing. he smiles & tells her to be patient so he can explain...the crime she truly wanted to ask him about... - back to fic's main time: others manage to revive Ren, but he's acting strangely - his 'ego' has been wrecked & his personas are out of control. his friends can help keep him in check but only for a while, and even then he's not quite himself; whoever is with him gets responded to by a Persona of their arcana, so he flits wildly between personalities between meetings with confidants and pretty much needs to be supervised in public settings to make sure he acts...semi-appropriately (morgana being around means he's usually in Magician mode) - eventually, though, the matching arcanas is an issue with Akechi drawing out Justice personas that know 1) there is an assassin in the Metaverse and 2) Akechi has access to the Metaverse. Principality, which guards nations, waits until he is certain Akechi is the Black Mask. Then murders him in the real world. And that's why Sae is interrogating Ren in this timeline.

-Ren's POV of Stall & Crash -"warden" Arsene, punishment/handcuffed/restraint -"I know you're not real" "I am as real as your sense of self... ah, but you don't have a good grasp of that, do you". [u know how in p3 out of control Personas hurt their real selves and p4 is basically EVERYONE'S Shadow being pissed off at their real self? yeah this was basically Ren's guilt at considering selling out his team, albeit while heavily drugged, causing Arsene to manifest as an abusive warden who 'allows' Ren to still be able to use his Personas but makes it very clear he's not worthy and hurts him at times. I don't think I did this mostly because while it's proposed as Ren's POV of Stall & Crash, Ren being unstable to this degree beforehand wasn't really evidenced in that fic and I thought it might be fun to play with but also I would HOPE he wouldn't start Shido's Palace while like this. ...may work better as a completely separate fic?]

- Clean-Up the Heart - Ren calls Kawakami before realizing BAD IDEA - she gets suspicious and invents a reason for him to request her so they can talk - they have a heart-to-heart - that's it that's the fic [...lol. to add a bit more: the idea was to set this either while Ren is still playing dead, or right after he's allowed to come back to school. He really needs to talk to someone about everything that's happened but he doesn't want to place more stress on Sojiro or his teammates, so he thinks about the other confidants he knows and...Kawakami should be okay, right? He shouldn't tell her about any of the scarier stuff, but maybe he can just talk a little except he clams up as soon as she answers and hastily says it was a misdial Kawakami doesn't quite buy that as she can tell he sounds genuinely off, so she just...makes up on the spot that actually. she's a little tight for cash, and she knew she said she'd do things for him for free, but if he could hire her just one last time? and ren's just like "oh. okay. sure" she basically cleans up his room and then goes 'okay, one, I'm not actually having money problems, you don't need to pay me, and two, now I KNOW something is wrong because I lied and said I was having money problems again and you haven't been nosy about it even once. What's wrong?" and that's how she gets Ren to open up, at least a tiny bit.] holy cow this got long so I'ma do the rest in a different post I guess

#writing #p5 fic #for later #but also for anyone curious

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writingforjoy · 5 years ago

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Decotta’s Diary

Once again, huuuge thanks to @aurikhai, @rose-of-sharon-cass, and anon for asking for this particular drabble and i apologize again for taking so long with it! the first three entries are for the asks, and then i did the last one as a normal diary entry. All typos, punctuation, and grammar mistakes are left the way they are because I wrote it as if she was typing it on her phone. @rhikasa i hope you'll enjoy this one too

Dear diary, July 22, 2016 10:58pm

We’re leaving for a ‘mission’ tomorrow. Just gathering more intel or something on this ring of productivity. Think its supposed to create whatever you want, but idk, wasn’t really listening when pH0 and zane were talking about it. I would just ask him but I don’t wanna make myself look stupid! I mean, its literally not my job as ‘king’ to know, just to make sure that we don’t use all our expenses. Anyways, tomorrow we’ll leave Moonshine Lake. I’ve never been to Arkansas before, I wonder if it’s any different from Louisiana? We’ll see...but I’m not driving lol.

Dear diary, July 23, 2016 3:47pm

The only thing worse than all these trees is Emment presence. Honestly I don’t get WHY Haiden thought it was a good idea to send Emment along. I dont care if he can heal, I can protect Zane on my own! Now we can’t share the room OR have the romantic date like I planned! It was supposed to be just me and Zane enjoying the rest of the day ALONE together just relaxing but nnoooo. With Emment here, senpai wants to ‘get this done as quickly as possible’. I’ll have to read Sixteen to see how to fix this.

Dear diary, July 23, 2016 11:15pm

If Emment’s tagging along didn’t have me pissed, I definitely am now. APPARENTLY, Zane’s been working on this BY HIMSELF FOR MONTHS, and the person that has the stupid ring now is soME GIRL HE’S BEEN “DATING” FOR GOD KNOWS HOW LONG!! I wouldnt have known about it if Emment hadnt let it slip what Zane was actually doing tonight when he left! To make it all worse, it wont be til maybe midnight when he decides to come back! Why did you have to lie to me senpai?! I couldve been of use! It would’ve been different this time!!!

Dear diary, July 24 2016 3:42am

Just as i got ready to go out and find him, senpai comes stumbling in, reeking of what i can only guess is weed and alcohol. Thankfully, he had everything to make a purification potion. Buuut, he wasn’t...all the way there to do it himself. Emments useless ass was already sleep when he made it in earlier, so that left me to make the potion for him. i couldnt stand seeing him so out of it, so of course i made it! now he’s just puking on and off again from potions effects. ...i hope he sleeps well tonight.

Dear diary, July 26, 2016 6:42am

Ok i know im supposed to have a journal entry everyday but the night zane came in he ended up resting the rest of the day and i stayed by his side watching him and then yesterday was sooo busy! YESTERDAY WAS THE BEST. DAY. EVER!!!! Oh my god wher do i even begin??!!? Ssooo, as my reward for being the best girl in the world the other night to senpai, i had BREAKFAST IN BED!!! He ordered room service for me and brought me ROSES!! He tried apologizing for everythign but i told him not to worry about, this small gesture was enough to let me know that he still cared for me~ AND THEN. HE ASKED ME. TO HELP HIM GET THE RING!! i was BEYOND excited to help him!! But i kept my cool, and told him sure, whatever. So he went on about who the girl, maggie, was (just some uppity college bitch rebelling against her rich folks) and was telling me that when we went out that night i’d have to use a glamour (he already had his ready and dear god he only gets hotter the older he gets), and who i was going to be waltzing around as (another one of her friends who sounded equally boring as her). Anyways, her parents been gone on vacation or whatever and that night she was hosting a big party at her house that he was invited to. Haiden was going to get the girl that i was going to be and keep her busy or whatever, but she was already taken care of by the time me and zane got to the party. Oh god that party was intense, so ima make try to make this entry short cause tired as fuck.

When we got there, the party was already goin, music blasting, couples all on the couches drunk kissing, people in the corners drinking, beer pong in the kitchen, the works. To maggie, i was there to help her trap zane and oh my GOD it took ALL of my willpower to not light her ass up on the spot (though it was pretty damn hilarious when i caused a short outage and she and a couple of other girls screamed), luckily senpai was close by and was able to calm me down before i got myself caught like last time, then off they went to have a ‘private conversation’, and maggie told to let everyone know that she’ll be ‘right back’ if anyone needed her, but we both know how that went lol.

So as soon as they made it to the room i stood at the door making sure no one would be interrupting senpai...and do a little eavesdropping AND OH MY GOD THIS STUPID HUMAN! She called him a crook and a liar, and all he wanted from her was her money all while she was fake crying, and then she had the nerve, the AUDACITY, to call him a witch. Of all things! A WITCH!! Then! Ooh then she called him a low-life and a snake-FIRST OF ALL MA’AM MY BABY’S JUST DOIN HIS DAMN JOB SO FUCK YOU AND YOUR UPPITY ATTITUDE-i wanted to bust in and shout that so badly, and senpai must’ve known it too cause i heard him yell ‘calm down’ in french, and again softly in english for her (i guess). At this point my curiosity was getting the best of me and i just had to see what they were doing, so i enchanted the door so i could see in, and oh my poor baby. He looked genuinely concerned, hurt even, at her accusations. Then he cupped her chin in his hand and asked her where she heard such things, and when she told him he gave her this sad look and told her some pitiful story that i only wish i remembered to prove his innocence AND SHE FAILED FOR IT! She started wiping her eyes, stammering apologies, talkin how she ‘loved’ him but didnt wanna get hurt again, and when he did his little ‘confession of love’ for her, shE KISSED HIM! I promise to god i this close to barging in, but i saw senpai hand waving ‘stop’ while she started mumbling god knows what. then he slowly leaned (a little bit too) close to her ear and whispered something that made her redder than a ripe tomato, and this horny bitch got up faster than the sun rises and started stripping out of her clothes, what makes it sad was that she tried to do it sexily, but she wasnt as graceful as she thought she was about it at all. So drunk and pathetic, humans are so weak minded that its actually entertaining lol. Once she got her bra off and straddled him, he finally put the sleeping spell on her and laid her on the bed as he slipped the ring off her finger! We made the deliver just before we got home this morning and i am more than thrilled to be in my own bed right now and that everythings finally done.

Zane Masters, my senpai, is simply the best demon in the world! He’s sweet, charming and clever, and can easily manipulate people when he wants to, and thats what i love about him. Thats why hes the Second King, our K2, my sweet, sweet, love. One day he’ll agree to go out with me, then he’ll see that im just as much of a girl as any other one, and then he’ll fall in love with me, and we’ll finally live happily ever after!

#writingforjoy #writeblr #fiction #drabbles #prompts #(im)mortal #Decotta Weyn

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homosociallyyours · 6 years ago

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a friend just posted a pic on fb of the coffee shop we used to hang out at, taken way back in the day. it’s just a shot of the place taken from inside, looking out the big glass windows and onto the street of downtown chattanooga. but one friend pointed out that she could see another friend’s van parked across the street, and one of the baristas came on and said he’d taken the photo and then proceeded to post a bunch more.

anyway i’m feeling nostalgic so i’m posting about it. memories behind the cut.

i started going there when i was maybe 15 years old. i don’t remember why, but it’s likely that the artsy nerd club i was a part of (we stayed after school to watch amadeus and monty python and we’d sometimes go to the local art museum) went there after a meeting one day. or maybe someone told me about it. anyway, it was my favorite place to go. i would drink pots of tea, always trying new things.

on my 16th birthday my parents got me a teapot from there and a gift certificate to buy tea with. i had that teapot til it broke a year ago. 20+ years! it moved with me to and from college, to nyc, california, texas, and back to california. damn.

anyway after i’d been going for a while i started talking with the owner. his name was ian, and he was pretty young. he loved tea and coffee and he had a roaster where they’d make their own coffee. it was loud and lovely, and for a long time it lived up front, right by a little elevated area with couches. when it was running you couldn’t hear anything and had no choice but to either shout or be quiet.

ian encouraged my love of tea, and offered to keep track of everything i’d tried in a little notebook that was kept behind the counter. i got to make notes on every pot i drank, and i remember writing “terrible! grass!” after my first pot of green tea (it was oversteeped--my fault--and probably made with water that was too hot--their fault). i had my first pu-er there, and fell in love with its damp leaf flavor and that turned earth scent that it has. i drank multiple pots of jasmine pearls and wrote a caffeine fueled poem about it with a friend. i loved that little coffee shop.

i don’t remember when i went from hanging out inside to hanging out outside, but i feel like i was 18 or so. the older people (they were probably barely 21-25, fucking babies) sat out there smoking and drinking coffee. i developed a crush one summer on a guy who made me think of arthur dent for some reason (don’t ask because i don’t know) and we went on one awkward date and didn’t kiss, and now i wonder what’s happened to him and if he, too, wasn’t straight. who knows? someone, i’m sure, but i can’t remember his last name anymore so is it even relevant?

i’d never felt cool til i went off to college. it was like leveling up without trying, like when you’re playing a game and do one action and suddenly all your stats are refilled and you’re like...this is unexpected? but i’ll take it? i think that’s why i decided i could really sit with the outside tables. that and my bff, who was dating someone who was friends with a lot of those people, would show up sometimes and sit out there.

(if you’ve actually been reading along so far, here’s where i’m gonna introduce you to a bunch of people i’ve never talked about before and will likely never mention again. just so you have fair warning.)

the cast of characters shifted a lot, but there were always the constants. scott, the barista, who was much older than most of the people hanging out but looked young and seemed young. i look back with adult eyes and question the relationship we had, but at the time i just thought it was cool that someone so much older thought i was worth hanging out with. but he was 30 when i was 19, and man that’s a lotta years. he had a summer where he hit on my friend and i constantly, after his wife left him and he was kinda floundering a bit. but it never went past flirting and it never bothered me, though like i said it kinda does now. we were still hanging out when i was 21 and we’d go get beers after the coffee shop closed at ten or midnight. he’d turn up obnoxious music really loud and i’d sometimes help close.

there was gabe and george, brother and sister in a family of people with names starting with the letter g. george was tiny and cute and either very drunk or very hyper from coffee at all times. gabe was a nerd who was usually quiet but loved to play scrabble, and we’d take the board inside sometimes and battle one another. he was much better than me, i won’t lie. liz and ever were both writers who would play with us sometimes. ever had changed her name at some point (to ever; any name she had before is irrelevant) and when we met she explained the meaning of her new name, which i won’t give because damn it’s very google-able.

she was a so fascinating to me, always talking about some feminist theory or philosopher, and i always felt so smart when we’d hang out. like a Serious Thoughtful Adult and not a kid. and liz was less serious but no less smart. she played scrabble a lot more and for a while we got pretty close. she took me out after coffee sometimes to a shitty bar with pool tables and tried to teach me how to play pool. she had her own cue and even though she was like 5′2″ she could break like nobody’s business. i never figured out how to do that part.

alex would come with us sometimes. he was tall and handsome and rode a motorcycle, and was the first openly bi guy i ever met. one time he invited me over to his house and we laid around listening to the smiths and talking. he burned me a copy of their greatest hits that i still have, all scratched up so it probably doesn’t play anymore. he crashed his bike more than once driving drunk. dumb fuckin kid. now he repairs coffee machines and sails, i think. life is funny.

a few other people ran in groups. meg and waide and the aforementioned jason and ardyce. some people called meg “big megan” and another megan (her family was really wealthy, rich southern politicians who knew the clintons and have a mention in sweet home alabama--the song, not the movie) was “little megan” because she was still in high school. i joked that i was medium megan, but the whole thing was awkward because big megan was fat and i was small fat and little megan was skinny. i’m gonna blame it on thoughtless dudes, but who the fuck knows? we all pretended not to mind it anyway.

waide ended up being a connection with other people who i met later. my hometown is weird in that it’s actually a pretty big part of the southern punk scene, so a lot of punks i meet have spent time there, and anyone over a certain age probably spent time at the bar waide worked at (the stone lion, and then maybe also the pickle barrel) so he’s one of those people who i’ll end up mentioning even though we haven’t spoken in years.

at some point a kid named ory showed up. i think he was 16 when he started coming around, and i used to call him puppy because he was excitable and silly, full of energy one minute and then mopey crashing the next. like a lot of people there he drank a lot and would be fucked up sometimes and make dumb choices. i always wanted to protect him. when i was 22 (and he was 19, i think) we ended up sitting together at the second lotr movie and having some kind of weird chemistry. that summer i drove him home one night and we had a super heavy make out with lots of clothed grinding. honestly the furthest i’ve ever gone with a cis straight(ish, he hooked up with a couple dudes but idk if he’d say he’s bi) dude and it was awkward in that we never talked about it? and then he came to visit me a couple years later in new york because he was in the navy, and he got super drunk and passed out on my couch and was a mess because he literally never stopped being a puppy.

he’s fucked up now, fully cancelled bc he said shit about girls rock camp (really dude?) and also probably cheated on his wife on their honeymoon? idk, it was fb rumors and then he deleted. but i’d believe it, honestly.

and then there were all these absolutely random downtown characters: dirty mark (a crusty punk who was drunk or high most of the time) and shirtless dave (yeah he really didn’t wear a shirt that much) usually came as a pair. sometimes dave hung out with a guy my friends and i called blue hair. he once hit on my friend and she panicked and gave him my number instead of hers because her brain didn’t make up a fake number fast enough.

there was sandy the flower man, who just passed away a couple weeks ago. he’d get flowers from local florists and go around on his bike, stopping into the coffee shop or to bars with roses and carnations and daisies. people gave him money usually, but sometimes he’d just hand you a flower because he wanted to. i saw a picture from a memorial and there was a portrait of him that was sat on top of his bicycle, all of it surrounded with flowers on flowers. so pretty. it’s what he deserved.

things changed around 2005 or so, i think. by that time, all the old baristas had left and the kids who came in were all weirdly religious and went to the christian college on the mountain. they made shitty coffee and sometimes played xtian rock and most of the old regulars couldn’t take it anymore. ian got sick around that time, too, and ended up selling the place. they stopped carrying much tea, if any.

but they finally sold the space and moved in like 2015. i remember the first time i drove by and didn’t see the lights on inside. it felt like seeing a friend from grade school all grown up, maybe the kid you had a crush on but they have a family now and you don’t think they’d recognize you at all so you just have to walk away. gone.

fuck this post is long as shit, i’m sorry for anyone on mobile. but damn it was good to get my memories out.

#long post #text post #personal #coffee shop memories #i thought i was so grown up

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whetstonefires · 6 years ago

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how do you think the batfam mightve progressed if jason never died?

Whaa, 4 asks at once? I’m sorry I still haven’t gotten back on the last one, I thought I was unstuck but guess what, I wrote myself into a pretty little corner by being all ‘I don’t care about what’s canon! i’m just gonna have fun!’ which is the correct approach except then you find out the thing you made up is incorrect and idk how to deal with that. being wrong. it’s a life skill i’m still working on.

So like, if the vote had gone the other way...it depends so much on the writing and editing teams, and so little on real causality, it’s hard to frame a picture?

Jason was created as an alternative to aging Dick down and taking him out of the Titans; his new character origin after the Crisis on Infinite Earths barely got out of its shakedown tour before they killed him off. We know who he was enough to spot the major character derailments, but who he might have been? It’s hard to say.

If he’d made it through the vote, the noisy fans would still have hated him, and so would the man writing his comics. I doubt Starlin would ever have convinced DC to do the HIV plotline with Robin like he reportedly tried, but I feel like Something Bad remained likely.

The 90s are known for their grimdarkness for a reason, and Jason just missed living through them. I feel like his odds of going villain were pretty high anyway, not because of him but because of the constant need for drama fuel. I mean, Alfred had a villain phase, in the 60s.

Babs became Oracle almost simultaneous with the Robin trade-off, debuted the same month Jason died (January ‘89), so that still would have happened. Tim’s influence on her was very slight.

Without Tim, there would have been no need for Steph, since she was created partly as a love interest but more importantly as a foil, and a way of getting more of that high-energy feeling traditionally associated with Robin back into the story even though so many of the fans loathed it and refused to have it in their lead.

(Not that Tim didn’t have a lot of it anyway, but it wasn’t his core feel the way it had been for Dick and Jason. Possibly of note, the ‘87 Killing Joke and ‘89 Batman movie also marked a rise in the use of Joker as Batman’s main dramatic foil rather than Robin, which coupled with the Bronze Age in general really shaped Tim’s character direction. It’s hard to say what caused what, with these trends.)

They might have introduced a girl anyway, to replace Babs. Maybe even a version of Cass. Shiva stated under interrogation during ADitF that she had no child, but in comics terms that half-guaranteed she’d get one eventually, because the concept was now out there.

I doubt Jason would have gotten his own series in the 90s, considering his screaming hatedom and the fact that it took three extremely successful mini-series to get Tim a regular title, but if DC had managed to repackage his character into something that the 90s liked and he had made a go of it, he’d probably have acquired a completely different supporting cast. He might well have continued his pattern of acquiring moms. Maybe even Talia. The whole Sheila thing would have been a half-forgotten backstory subplot by like ‘94 probably.

It occurs to me after typing all of this that you might want to hear my ideas about what in-universe causality might logically have led to, lmao. Let’s see.

Jason’s adolescence was hitting a rocky stage that I doubt this betrayal and near-death experience and technical bereavement would have ended, though it would probably have hit harder than his last few near-death experiences even assuming another improbable complete recovery.

If we up the realism dial a little, he might be forced into retirement by the severity of his wounds. He’d still have to hash out his trust issues with Bruce, probably more than ever. Being a shit communicator was not yet a key part of Bruce’s personality; they might have sorted things out.

Jason would not have dropped out of college. If he’s retired, he goes into a prestigious but helping-centered field with an understanding that he is now the son Bruce trusts to step up to keep WE on the straight and narrow after he dies; inheritance of voting shares may be structured around this expectation.

(Dick experiences that really complicated hypocritical jealousy where you specifically rejected a thing, but it spent so long being marked yours that you feel robbed anyway when someone else gets it. Not a lot of it in the disability scenario, because there’s a distinct vibe of consolation prize there, but otherwise.)

Babs would still have been Oracle. It would have been a less fraught launch, though.

Dick might not have heard about the Ethiopia thing at all, if Jason made a full recovery, considering how little communication was passing between him and Bruce at that point. Dick’s level of Batcomputer access only stated Jason as ‘location unknown’ when he was dead, so.

He and Jason got along fine, regardless of retcons since then, but he was under a lot of stress from a lot of sources, and the feeling that he couldn’t go home even when he really needed to, because he’d been replaced, was very present. That might well have blown up at some point.

I tend to think of Bruce as having changed pretty dramatically as a result of Jason’s death, disregarding a lot of retcons, but I mean, 1987 Bruce already failed to notice Dick having a mental breakdown right in front of him and put him off in favor of hero work with Jason on Dick’s birthday, he just did it cheerfully and with fairly courteous wording. There was a trend in the faildad direction starting already.

There was a lot of relationship stuff in need of fixing and in some ways Jason’s presence made that as hard for Dick with Bruce as Damian’s later did for Tim, even though there was a lot less drama and intentional emotional violence and attempted murder involved. So. That could have gone a lot of ways. Realistically, even without Tim trying to play peacemaker, Dick always gets dragged back into Bruce’s orbit, though. That’s narrative causality at work, but also psychology.

In-universe, Tim can be assumed to have already existed before Wolfman invented him. He’s mostly away at boarding school, but he’s nosy and well-intentioned and he Knows. If Jason ran away more comprehensively than the Great Mom Tour, he might approach him with an argument for why Batman needed Robin and he should go home. Or there would eventually have been a case where he knew something they didn’t and attempted to subtly pass information and got noticed.

Or Oracle’s expanding field of awareness would have eventually noticed him and his zoom-lens one summer evening while his parents were in Haiti getting dead. Idk.

He’d probably have gotten mixed up in Bat-things eventually, and if it wasn’t before the Haiti thing there’s no way Batman would have been invested enough in this random disappearance to be there in time to help, so he’d have been completely orphaned at 13. Bruce taking him in is reasonably likely, since he wasn’t exactly in a position to create himself a fake uncle at the time. On the other hand, he might have gone into foster care. His parent’s company still would have crashed without them, so he wouldn’t have inherited much, but he’d have been better off than most kids in the system because he’d have some assets.

Steph is even more guaranteed to hit the vigilante scene. Bruce would be a lot friendlier to her without Jason death issues for her to trigger, though that doesn’t mean he’d actually be friendly, and Jason would like her, and possibly communicate more effectively than Tim did about how she could not die, or possibly they’d have egged each other on into steadily more unwise behavior.

On the other hand, depending on where Jason’s character development went after surviving Ethiopia, he might at 17 find 15-year-old Steph indescribably annoying precisely because they have so much in common, and lash out at her as a proxy for his younger self, and be kind of awful.

Cataclysm breaks causality to even acknowledge anymore because they rushed on from it like massive chumps, but Jason would have been a good Robin to have for it. He’d have been pretty tall by then, and he’s got the mental tools for surviving in an unfriendly urban environment where money is useless. I think he and Cass would have gotten on well, they have compatible personalities. The only major issue I can see is if Bruce or Babs got really positive about her and triggered some kind of jealousy or possessiveness issue.

We don’t really have any specific data at all from before Jason died about how he would cope with a rival for something he felt entitled to but insecure about--he deferred very nicely to Dick as his elder, but Dick wasn’t actually a threat to anything Jason valued. Assuming later canon is applicable, jealousy would be a definite issue with any additional family members, though I assume without the risk of homicide.

Okay here is an after-midnight hour of my half-baked opinions. You asked for it! ;DDD

#ask #answer #jason todd #batfam #dc comics #superheroes #hoc est meum #my dumb opinions #kuppatan

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kiheons · 6 years ago

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I know you just wrote it but a follow up of the one-shot where aquaria left brianna? Maybe where brianna goes back to aquaria thinking this went on long enough and aquaria doesn't let up (at first)? She maybe even found someone else, Idk i was just obsessed with it i need more

Okay so first of all, that technically wasn’t a one shot. I didn’t put enough detail for it to be a fic. Same with this. But this ended up being 5000 words long so yikes. If I ever turn this au into a full blown fic (i might as well) this scene will likely be split in two, if not three parts.

it got a bit humorous as times. god bless katelyn. brianna has some issues. sorry the continuity is a little wonky.

When Brianna wakes up the next morning she wakes into the kitchen saying “Aquaria what do you want for brea-” Before she remembers that Aquaria left the night before. She’s still like well she’ll be back later today. Brianna going about her day, asking Aquaria questions before remembering that she’s not there. It’s kinda weird but Brianna isn’t worried. A full day passes and Brianna is still sticking to her story that Aquaria is gonna be back eventually.

The second day Monet calls demanding to know what the fuck happened. “Brianna, Katelyn just called me. She says that Aquaria showed up at her place two nights ago, sobbing and looking a mess. She had all her stuff with her too. Aquaria is refusing to tell either of us what happened. Clearly, this has something to do with you.” Brianna scoffing. “Is she still doing that? It’s nothing we just had a fight.” Monet isn’t buying it at all. “Are you sure? Because I know you’ve fought before but Aquaria has never done this before. Brianna she’s practically hysterical. Neither of us can mention you without her crying.” Brianna pushing all the guilt she’s feeling away. “She’s overreacting like she always does. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

That’s how Monet knows something is seriously wrong. “What the hell? ‘I apologize for the inconvenience?’ Brianna I’m your best friend not one of your clients. What is going on? I’m worried about you two.” Brianna does not want to do this anymore. It’s none of Monet’s business if her and Aquaria are fighting. “It’s none of your business Monet. So stop asking. I’m busy, I’ll talk to you later.” Brianna hangs up before Monet can reply. Her phone rings at least 4 more times, all from Monet.

Brianna just throws herself into work. Goes to the office because the house is too empty without Aquaria. Stays there long past midnight, looking over forms, calling business partners. She ignores 2 more phone calls from Monet, 3 from Katelyn and one from Bob of all people. Brianna goes home at 2 in the morning, pretty convinced Aquaria will be there by now only to find the apartment just as empty. Brianna makes dinner, accidently makes two portions, eats alone and replays their fight in her head. It’s the same thing on day three, except this time no one calls and Brianna wakes up in the middle of the night and works until the sun rises because she keeps dreaming about Aquaria.

On the opposite end of the spectrum Aquaria has been curled up on Katelyn’s couch for four days in a row. Katelyn doesn’t know what Brianna did but whatever it was it must have been bad. Nudging Aquaria up “Hey Qua Qua. I was thinking about going out tonight. Wanna come with?” Aquaria doesn’t really say anything, just kinda stares at the floor. “You’ll feel better I promise. I already asked Vixen, Asia and Jordan. It’ll be fun.” Aquaria mumbling. “Okay.” Katelyn is honestly just grateful that Aquaria is at least willing to take a shower and put on some makeup. Katelyn has never seen anyone looked this depressed about going clubbing. When they get there everyone else has already arrived. Vixen and Asia both hugging Aquaria. Katelyn is pretty sure Aquaria hasn’t told them what’s going on but Aquaria is smiling, or at least trying to.

Asia asks Aquaria about a new project at work and Aquaria finally seems happy for the first time in 4 days when she talks about it. She talks about how the new collection is coming along and she’s really excited to see it debut. Katelyn is happy for her. And then Asia asks “How is Brianna doing by the way?” Aquaria’s face falls and Katelyn is panicking right away cause she’s pretty sure Aquaria is going to start crying. Aquaria just looks completely emotionless instead. “I don’t know. I don’t care. We broke up.” Vixen is like what the fuck “Wait what? What happened?” Aquaria snapping “It’s not important. We broke up and I’m not talking about her. Brianna is a control freak who apparently can’t exist if she isn’t putting people down. She can go fuck herself and I don’t care what happens to her!” At this point Aquaria is yelling and some people are staring. Aquaria huffing “Whatever. I need a drink. Jordan let’s go.”

Aquaria taking shots one after another and when Vixen tells her to slow down she tells Vixen to piss off. Alcohol hits her hard and fast and after not even 2 hours in Aquaria is already drunk and Katelyn is very very worried. “Aquaria maybe you should sit down, I’ll get you some wa-” Aquaria trying to shove Katelyn away “No I’m gonna dance. I’m gonna dance and find someone hotter and fuck them. Fuck Brianna I don’t care!” Katelyn trying to keep Aquaria from flopping off her chair. “Uh huh yeah fuck Brianna. Here let’s maybe go outside.” Aquaria keeps yelling though “She’s a bitch Katelyn! She said I’m a kid and that I don’t have a real job but guess what? I’m an adult! I can buy alcohol and fuck people and I’m gonna fuck someone.” Katelyn is like yeah you’re definitely not, you’re way too drunk for that. Beckoning Vixen over and by this time Aquaria is crying “She’s a fucking bitch.” Katelyn patting Aquaria’s head as Aquaria drunk cries into her top, exchanging glances with Vixen. “I work hard I’m worth something. Right? Right?” Vixen looks so damn pissed off and Brianna may be her sister but Katelyn is ready to kill Brianna. “Yeah. You’re worth something.”

The two of them dragging Aquaria out of the club, shoving all 5’8 of Aquaria into a cab. Vixen looks livid. “You better talk to your sister because if she’s at work tomorrow then I’m giving her a piece of my mind.” Katelyn is like fuck cause she knows Vixen isn’t exaggerating. “Give me until noon. I’ll talk to her I promise. I’m mad too.” On the way back to Katelyn’s apartment, Katelyn texts Brianna. “We need to talk.” Brianna sees the message but doesn’t respond. Katelyn somehow managing to drag Aquaria out of the cab, paying the driver, and hauling her Aquaria into her apartment. Katelyn shoving Aquaria onto the bed, taking off her heels and going to take her own makeup off before sleeping on the couch. Katelyn doesn’t know what happened but Aquaria had a hard night, might as well let her take the bed.

Katelyn waking up suddenly because there’s a loud crash. Immediately getting up and rushing into the bathroom to see Aquaria with her head in the toilet puking her guts up and crying. Katelyn’s nightstand got knocked down by Aquaria in her rush to get to the bathroom. Katelyn kneeling beside her, holding Aquaria’s hair back as she throws up, rubbing her back and telling her she’s gonna be okay. Aquaria heaving, eyes bloodshot. “Hey Aqua. You okay?” Katelyn rubbing circles into her back and Aquaria picking herself up, leaning against the cabinets. Her hair is messy, makeup smeared, she’s still in her dress from last night and looks awful.

Aquaria sobbing “I told her I hated her.” Katelyn tucking some stray hair behind Aquaria’s ear, asking “Who?” Even though she’s pretty sure she already know the answer. Aquaria’s voice cracking “Brianna. I told her I hated her. I called her a sociopath.” Normally Katelyn would kill anyone who said that about her sister but Aquaria looks devastated. “ I told her she was gonna die alone and unloved.” Katelyn hugging Aquaria, Aquaria curling around her. “Katelyn I love her.” Sobbing, trying to get her words out. “I love her so much.” Katelyn just hugs Aquaria, telling her over and over “I know, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

Aquaria wakes up the next morning on Katelyn’s bathroom floor with a killer headache and a disgusting taste in her mouth. Katelyn is on the floor next to her, using a towel as a pillow. Aquaria doesn’t remember much of last night but when she manages to stand up and look at herself in the mirror the smeared makeup and tear tracks tell her all she needs to know. Turning the faucet on and rinsing out her mouth before shaking Katelyn awake. “You’re gonna get sick. The floor is cold.” Katelyn blinking awake. “Fuck did I fall asleep? I was gonna try and drag you back to bed.” Aquaria laughing. “You could have just left me here. I’m such a messy drunk I probably deserved it.” Katelyn looks at her and its nothing but pity. “You didn’t deserve it.” Aquaria trying to ignore the feeling of dread. Clearly Katelyn knows something Aquaria doesn’t. Katelyn getting off the floor. “I’m gonna make breakfast. Take a shower. You look like a trainwreck.” Aquaria throwing a tissue at Katelyn as she walks away, laughing.

Aquaria spends a solid 30 minutes in the shower trying to remember what happened. She’s still pissed at Brianna. She should start looking into getting a new apartment. Her head hurts. Katelyn and Brianna use the same shampoo. She knows Katelyn definitely can’t afford that so Brianna must buy it for her. She’s single again. She told Brianna she hated her. Aquaria standing there, watching the soap drain when Katelyn bangs on the door. “Get the fuck out you’re gonna drive my water bill up!” Aquaria coming into the kitchen to find Katelyn drinking coffee and looking at her phone and it reminds her so much of Brianna except Katelyn is poor as shit and her kitchen is not nearly as nice as Brianna’s and also they’re drinking folgers, none of that fancy Ethiopian stuff. Katelyn catches Aquaria staring. “Stop judging, Brianna’s the rich one not me.” Aquaria taking the cup of coffee Katelyn’s offering her. “I thought you were making breakfast.” Katelyn pushing a box of cereal towards her. “I had to drag your dumb drunk ass out of the club yesterday. You’re like 6 feet.” Aquaria mumbling “5 foot 8” and Katelyn rolling her eyes “tomato tomatoe the point is it’s Cap'n Crunch or nothing. You’re a plebian like me now.”

Katelyn sitting on the counter, sipping her coffee while Aquaria leans against the stove and eats dry Cap’n Crunch. It’s nice. It reminds Aquaria of her life before she met Brianna. Katelyn putting down her mug. “Aquaria.” Aquaria doesn’t look up at her, focused on her cereal. “Yeah?” Katelyn sighs. “What did you and Brianna fight about?” Aquaria stopped chewing. Katelyn looks concerned. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Now Katelyn looks pissed. “Aquaria you showed up at my apartment at 3 in the morning 5 days ago in tears, moped around and refused to talk to anyone for 4 days, and then proceeded to get black out drunk and puke your guts out in my bathroom before crying on the floor for about an hour! Brianna on the other hand has been ignoring all my calls and texts, I have no idea what she’s doing but knowing her she’s probably not eating anything, not sleeping, and is working herself into an early death!” Aquaria feels so guilty because she did just barge into Katelyn’s life. “I’m sorry.” Katelyn groaning. “I’m not looking for an apology Aquaria. You’re my friend, I would be here for you either way. But you’re also my sister’s girlfriend and you look absolutely miserable and I would be a terrible friend and sister if I didn’t at least attempt to fix this.” Katelyn taking a deep breath. “I care about you both. So please tell me what happened.”

Aquaria doesn’t have an appetite anymore. “We got into a fight. I accused Brianna of using her job to run away from talking about some problems we were already having. She keeps treating me like a kid and I’m tired of it.” Katelyn sighing. “Yeah she has a history of doing that.” Aquaria nodding. “Yeah. Brianna said she wasn’t running away and that her job was important. Like, actually important. Not like my job which is something that anyone can apparently do.” By this point Katelyn already has a pretty good idea of what’s going on. “It’s not like I worked my fucking ass off to get my position or anything. It’s not like I barely sleep and rest, no apparently none of that shit matters cause clearly everything I do will never be as hard or important as what Brianna does!” Aquaria is yelling at this point. “I’m always gonna be inferior to her, she’s always gonna see me as some immature kid, she’s always going to look down on me just like she fucking looks down on everyone!”

Aquaria is out of breath at this point. Katelyn waiting for a bit. “And when did you call her a sociopath?” Katelyn doesn’t sound angry, just neutral. Aquaria mumbling. “I threw a glass at her and then a vase. I told her she treated everyone around her like shit and called her a sociopath and said that it’s the reason Bob left her and the reason I’m leaving her too. I told her she was going to die alone and unloved and that I hated her and then I left.”

Katelyn is quiet. “You know when Bob left Brianna threw a plate at him and he called her a sociopath too. He said that she was incapable of being emotionally vulnerable and caring about anyone but herself. That she looked down on everyone around her.” Aquaria doesn’t say anything, just listens. “You’re both right. It’s the truth. Brianna doesn’t let herself lose, ever. She’ll fight for what she wants and steamroll over anyone who stands in her way, even if it’s someone she loves. It’s cause she’s convinced herself that loving someone isn’t worth it. She hates herself while also thinking she’s better than everyone. Honestly, it’s bizarre and I don’t understand it.”

Katelyn sighs. “But this isn’t like her and Bob. They had other issues too. Differences in worldview, how the other should do their job, arguments about life choices. Brianna has grown a little bit. Barely cause y’know, she’s an idiot, but she’s changed.” Aquaria doesn’t look at Katelyn. “She loves you Aquaria. Truly. I know it’s sounds fake when she says it but honestly I think it’s because she doesn’t know it herself. She’s always been a workaholic. Aquaria when she met you was the first time in years I ever saw her take a break. I won’t apologize for her cause she’s an asshole but she has a good heart. I promise.”

It’s quiet. Neither Katelyn nor Aquaria say anything for a while. Aquaria’s voice is hushed “I still love her. I know I yelled at her but I still love her. But I can’t go back. There’s no way Brianna wants me after this.” Katelyn stretching. “She does. My sister is an idiot. She’s too proud to back down and admit she made a mistake. She’ll keep digging herself into this hole. So I’m gonna go and beat some sense into her. It’s almost 10 and Vixen said if I didn’t talk to Brianna before noon she was gonna go and kick the shit outta Brianna herself.” Aquaria like wait what “You’re kidding, no Vixen worked so hard for this job she’s gonna get herself fired!” Katelyn like yep so we better hurry.

Katelyn looks very relaxed and confident and Aquaria has no clue how “How are you this okay with fighting Brianna? She could ruin your life. She doesn’t even need to ruin my life, I’ve been away from work for 5 days I’ve probably already been fired.” Katelyn shaking her head “You’re fine. I talked to Alaska, let her know that Brianna was being a dickhead again. You have the next week off.” Aquaria looking at Katelyn like who the fuck are you and Katelyn looks dead inside. “Brianna is smart but she’s stubborn as fuck. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to do damage control. Also I knew Alaska in college and we’re pretty good friends. I’m this okay with fighting Brianna because I’m one of the only people who loves her unconditionally and she knows it. Also she’s my sister and if she tries to ruin my life I have so many embarrassing stories that I can leak to the press. You’re lucky, you’re about to witness a legendary Heller style fight.”

While all this is going on Brianna is doing exactly what Katelyn thought she would. She hasn’t been home in two days because she’s been sleeping on the couch in her office for barely 3 hours a day. She’s alive by the sheer will of god and iced coffee. Brianna can’t go home. It reminds her of Aquaria, it reminds her of the fact that Aquaria isn’t there. It’s been 5 days and Aquaria isn’t back and at this point Brianna is wondering if Aquaria ever will be back. When Bob left Brianna laughed about it too and a week later she was being served divorce papers. Everything feels wrong without Aquaria there and Brianna hates it. Yes she loves Aquaria but she should also be able to function without her. But here Brianna is, hands shaking, retyping this email for the fourth time in less than an hour.

She’s tired, angry and she fucking hates herself for ever yelling at Aquaria. What kind of jackass tells their girlfriend that their job isn’t a real job? But she’s okay, she’s fine, she doesn’t need Aquaria. She’s been waking up in the middle of the night because all she can dream about is Aquaria, their fight is replaying over and over in her head. She sits on the couch and curses herself. Brianna hasn’t let someone see her cry since she was married to Bob but its 4 in the morning, she’s so tired, and she fucked up the one good thing she had in her life. She can let herself cry on her uncomfortable office couch for an hour, try and make herself presentable and pretend like she’s okay. She’s been doing it her entire life. Before she met Aquaria and after Aquaria leaves. But Aquaria wouldn’t actually leave, right? It was one fight. It was one fight and Aquaria will be back but it’s day 5 and Aquaria still isn’t back and fuck, Brianna is starting to panic.

Brianna is staring at her computer when Katelyn knocks on her door. It’s an email from Bob and all it says it “You need to fix this. Aquaria is young. Grow up and apologize. Take it from me, your ex-husband.” Brianna feels dead inside. Bob is right. It’s ironic that she accused Aquaria of being childish when she’s literally been refusing to go home cause it reminds her of the fact that she ruined her own relationship cause she was, what, too proud to suck it up and admit that she was wrong? That’s exactly it. It’s how she lost Bob and it’s going to be how she loses Aquaria too, huh. Someone knocks at her door and Brianna just mumbles “Come in” expecting it to be someone with quarterly reports.

Except it’s Katelyn and the look she has on her face is nothing less than rage and Brianna is already on the defensive. “What are you doing here?” Glaring at Katelyn. “I’m at work Katelyn.” Katelyn rolling her eyes “yeah I know. It’s cause you’re refusing to go home, right? I know you Brianna. You’re being ridiculous.” Brianna closing her laptop. “You don’t know what happened, don’t fucking tell me I’m being ridiculous. Aquaria stepping into the room behind Katelyn and closing the door. Aquaria looks exhausted and Brianna’s heart drops. “What are you doing here?”

Aquaria deadpanning. “I’m here to witness a legendary Heller style fight.” Brianna has about two seconds to process what Aquaria says before Katelyn hurls a couch cushion at her. “Brianna Maxine Heller what the f u c k is wrong with you!” Brianna ducking at the cushion takes out a stack of papers and bounces off a file cabinet. “Katelyn what the f-” Katelyn yelling “No you shut up and listen for once in your goddamn life! Aquaria showed up at my door 5 days ago looking absolutely devastated! And it was your fucking fault! She told me everything that happened, what the hell is wrong with you that you think it’s okay to say that Aquaria’s job is nothing? To tell her that she’s some kid? I know Alaska, she says Aquaria is one of the hardest working people she’s ever seen! Aquaria has never asked you to go to any kind of event with her but you’re always dragging her along here and there even though she’s fucking busy!”

Brianna protesting “Because it’s what expected! How the hell is everyone going to show up with their partners and I show up alone?” Katelyn throwing another cushion at her “That’s your problem, not hers! You think any of those wives of those rich fucks have jobs? They literally do nothing all day! Aquaria works full time! Hell, she works more than that! How many hours a week do you work, Aqua?” Aquaria glaring at Brianna. “52. I work on weekends and overtime.” Katelyn nodding. “That’s fucking right. And how many do you work Brianna? 46! I know because you’ve fucking told me! So if we’re just comparing numbers, which I know you know how to do because you’re a slut for math, then you’re already an idiot because why? Because Aquaria works more than your pompous ass and then she has to go to your stupid parties and meetings too!”

Brianna has nothing to say to that but the hell if she’s backing down. “She doesn’t even do anything! Picking out clothes isn’t a job!” Katelyn looking at her like she grew another head “Brianna who the fuck do you think picks out all the outfits you wear when you go to your meetings? Why the hell do you think you have a stylist?” Brianna stuttering and Katelyn just continues “Because you fucking suck that’s why! If you genuinely think that all Aquaria does is pick out clothes then you must be stupider than I thought because all you have to do is fucking google her to see that that is a fraction of what she does! By your logic all you do is talk to people and anyone could do that!” Brianna frowning “That’s not all I do my jo-” Katelyn covering her ears “Nope I’m not listening to you because I’m Brianna Heller and I’m a jackass who thinks I know everything even when my fucking girlfriend is trying to explain it to me because she can tell that I’m an idiot!” Brianna can hear Aquaria snicker in the background and that just pisses her off even more.

“My decisions affect the entire world, not just some random model!” Katelyn glaring at her. “Yes they do. But that doesn’t make you any better than Aquaria.” Brianna protesting “That’s not what I was saying.” Aquaria piping up “No that’s exactly what you were saying. That’s what you’re always saying. That because of what you do, and who you are, you’re somehow better than me. You’re somehow better than all of us. You go on and on about how much you hate the rest of the narcissistic asshole CEOs you have to work with but you are exactly the same. You look down on everyone because you think what you do is the most important thing.” Brianna opening her mouth to say something but Aquaria cutting her off “No, you’re going to let me talk. You treat me like I’m a kid. That I somehow don’t know how the world works or that when I’m mad about something that it isn’t something worth being mad about. You dismiss my anger as tantrums. I’m your girlfriend Brianna not your fucking child.”

Katelyn jumping right in “And knowing you, Brianna, you probably used that weird mommy kink thing you two have against Aquaria.” Brianna flushing red but Aquaria just nods. “Yeah. She did.” Katelyn shouting “Do you realize how, one, fucking weird that is, and two, how toxic that is? Now I don’t know much about a mommy kink but I have called guys daddy before so I assume it’s the same thing and-” Brianna groaning, “Katelyn I don’t want to hear about your sex life” Katelyn sticking out her tongue “Well I’ve walked in on you and Aquaria fucking more than once so you’re gonna hear about my sex life. My point is that shit takes trust. So for you to manipulate that is real fucking shitty.” Brianna is quickly running out of defenses. “Aquaria threw a glass at me. That’s childish.”

Katelyn throwing up her hands. “And I just threw a cushion at you! And you threw a plate at Bob at age 32, which if I remember correctly, is a full decade older than Aquaria is now! Childish? Brianna you’ve been hiding out in your office for the past two days! You’re ignoring all my and Monet’s calls and you keep fighting against this even though an adult would know when to give up and admit that they’re wrong!” Aquaria glaring at Brianna. “I threw a glass at you because you insulted me and my work ethic for 10 minutes. Knowing you, if I even tried to do that you’d try to collapse the American economy just to spite me. Because you’re a fucking sociopath Brianna. You treat people like shit and then somehow expect them to still like you.” Brianna is like no, “I’m not a sociopath the definition of a sociopath is-” Katelyn cuts her off “That’s not the point! The point is that you’re fucking crazy! Bob said that same thing. Brianna you can’t look down on everyone around you, especially your girlfriend, and expect her to be okay with it.”

“I don’t do that.” Brianna hates how unsure she sounds. Katelyn sighing. “Yes you do. Bob says you do, Aquaria says you do and I say you do. If you called Monet right now I’m she’d agree. This is your reality check Brianna. If you want to keep denying it and living in your fantasy world, fine. But you’re smart. I know you’ve realized it too.” Brianna hates it because Katelyn is right, she has realized it. She’s controlling, and looks down on everyone and unless she changes it she’s going to lose Aquaria too. Brianna doesn’t say anything, just stares at her desk. She’s tired, she can’t remember the last time she ate, she wants to go home and she wants Aquaria to be there too. Aquaria’s voice is soft. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. You deserve to be loved. I don’t hate you. I love you so much and I want this to work but I’m tired Brianna.” Brianna looking up to meet Aquaria’s eyes and Aquaria looks sad. “I can’t keeping doing this if you aren’t willing to put in the work. I don’t want this to end but Brianna unless something changes I can’t stay.” Brianna realizes that there’s a clock ticking now and now it’s on her. Either she decides to grow the fuck up and admit she was wrong or her and Aquaria end like this. And Brianna doesn’t want them to end like this.” Aquaria sighing. “Let me know by the end of the week. If you don’t know by then I’m gonna start looking at apartments.” Brianna’s business brain tells her to take the time, think over the best strategies, get the most out of this but that’s what got her into this mess didn’t it?

Brianna’s voice is strained. “Katelyn can you leave? I need to talk to Aquaria alone.” Katelyn raising an eyebrow “I don’t know if th-” Aquaria shaking her head “It’s okay. Thank you for yelling at Brianna Katelyn. It was very entertaining to watch.” Katelyn smiling, giving Aquaria a quick hug “Anytime. I’m gonna wait outside, let me know if you need me to yell at her more.” Brianna is exhausted but she can’t help but smile. “You’re both terrible.” Katelyn stepping out and Brianna practically collapsing into her desk chair, resting her head on her hands, closing her eyes. Aquaria is quiet, waiting for Brianna to talk. “I’m sorry.” Her business brain is telling her to backtrack, apologizing is losing. “You’re right. You’re both right. I look down on people.” Aquaria agrees quietly. “You do. Katelyn told me you don’t like to lose. It’s hot when you’re fighting other people but it doesn’t work if you’re trying to fight me.”

Brianna laughing dryly. “I can’t seem to admit I’m wrong. Clearly, I have some issues.” Aquaria nods. “Yeah. I’d suggest you see a therapist or some shit but it’s probably a liability.” Brianna sighs. “It is. Monet is a psychiatrist so I’ve thought about it because I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t try and take down my company but even then…” Brianna looking up at Aquaria. Aquaria shrugging “You could try. I don’t care how you do it. But you need help.” Brianna wants to die because this feels humiliating. Aquaria is 22 but she has to tell Brianna this. Fuck, Brianna needs to get it together. “Brianna I can hear you thinking. I’m saying this as your girlfriend. Talk to Monet. She’s your best friend she’s probably be a good fit.” Brianna groaning. “That’s so fucking weird. Asking your best friend if they can be your psychiatrist.” Aquaria rolling her eyes. “I literally call you Mommy when we fuck. It’s really not that weird.” Brianna will admit, Aquaria does have a point. “Okay. Okay, I’ll talk to Monet.” Brianna standing back up, holding the desk cause her head is spinning. Aquaria can tell. “Brianna when was the last time you ate?” Brianna mumbling “I don’t remember.” Aquaria sticking her head out the door. “Katelyn, you were right.” Brianna can hear Katelyn curse. Barging in, pulling a granola bar out of her purse ‘Brianna I keep telling you you need to eat. You’re lucky I know how dumb you can be.”

Thrusting the granola bar into Brianna’s hand and Brianna definitely has to sit down again. “By the way, I texted Vixen. She said she’s not going to kill Brianna this time but if it happens again she won’t hesitate.” Brianna like wait what. Katelyn explaining “Aquaria starting crying about you when we went clubbing. Vixen was ready to kick the shit outta you.” Aquaria like wait I did what “I started crying about Brianna when we went clubbing?” Katelyn like yes “It would have cute if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re a messy drunk and you kept trying to fight Asia cause she wouldn’t let you have any more drinks.” Brianna halfway through her granola bar. “Aquaria are you okay with going home?” Aquaria looking at her. “Are you going to talk to Monet?” Brianna sighing. “Yes.” “Then yes. I just have to grab my stuff from Katelyn’s.”

By the time they’re on their way back to Brianna’s apartment all of Brianna’s exhaustion is catching up to her and she’s ready to pass the fuck out. Aquaria watching her “You really didn’t sleep at all, did you?” Brianna yawning. “Only a little bit. I kept having dreams about you.” Aquaria grinning “were they sexy?” Brianna shaking her head “I wish. It was all about our fight. I thought you were actually going to leave.” Aquaria isn’t smiling anymore. “I almost did.” Brianna squeezing Aquaria’s hand. “I know.” The rest of the ride is silent and by the time they get back home Brianna has already fallen asleep on Aquaria’s shoulder.

#lord this is long #its a happy ending kids!!!#sorta #craquaria #sugar mommy au #this au is spinning out of control #asks #Anonymous

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