#its literally the only reason she comes to my room cause sometimes ill open the window so she can feel the nice breezes and stuff

[rararasputins-dick-mind-control]

is there a reason my cat keeps furiously scratching at my door at 4am every night

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙈𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙊𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙎. | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

edit by @raeganlolz <3

∘ requests: I tried to use as many as I could that made sense! Hope you enjoy!

“the things i’d do to meet edgy karl’s parents.”

“ok but next time you want to write smut for edgy!karl...post pregnancy scare...karl having a fixation on readers tiddies...like the whole time. -🧚🏻‍♀️”

“i stg this is my last thing ill send in today about edgy!karl but karl letting reader dom him completely.-🧚🏻‍♀️”

“CONSIDER edgy!Karl saying ‘that's my girl’”

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader 

∘ warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of underaged sex, asphyxiation, domination, this being 4k

∘ word count: ~4000 (im so sorry)

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ disclaimer: I made up all the dynamics and Karl lore. This is also an au and I do what I want so

You rolled your shoulders, twisting your back to alleviate some of the stress in your back as your mind raced at the possible outcomes of spending the weekend at Karl’s parent’s place. He seemed to deal with the situation in his own way, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips as he scrubbed the nail polish from his fingers. You wondered if his parents were sticklers for order, then again, knowing Karl, there was no way they weren’t crazy strict. You thought about your own family and what would happen if Karl were to meet your mother.

Karl seemed almost absent-mindedly going through the motions of visiting them like you had nothing to worry about. There were occasions when he even made it clear that you had your life more intact than he did, so it was doubtful they would hate you.

You peered over at him, taking your eyes off the road momentarily as he paused to blow smoke out of his window. “Why do you have to take it off?” You asked, gesturing to his hands.

He scoffed slightly, sitting up and throwing the dirty cotton ball into the small bag beside him. “My mom hates the dark colors,” he murmured, flicking his cigarette bud outside. He moved a hand to settle over your thigh, wrapping his fingers around the flesh. “Don’t worry, I’ll paint them again when we get back,” he chided. “I know it’s the only reason you keep me around.”

You snorted at this, shaking your head at his joke.

The two of you came to a small stop-over town, swapping seats after filling up the tank at the local gas station. Through the crack in the passenger window, you could hear the cashier greeting Karl as if they were old friends, smacking him on the back and walking him out the door with a smile. As Karl sank into the driver’s seat you furrowed your brows. He looked at you with a shrug. “We vacation around here sometimes,” he brushed off, making your mouth twist in disbelief. He was downplaying the extent of his family’s hold over the town.

As the two of you drove through the main street of the town, your eyes snapped to the various stores with his last name plastered on the signs. You nearly asked him about it, instead opting out as you figured he would give you a half-assed answer and only give you part of the story.

His house had its own street, a long winding road that ended in a looped driveway the size of a suburban cold-de-sac. You willed yourself not to let your mouth gape at the sheer size of the mansion as it stared back at you, blocking the moonlight as Karl opened the passenger door for you to climb out. “Stop treating me like the fucking Queen of England,” you murmured, elbowing him as he pulled on his hoodie, shaking out his hair slightly.

He laughed at you, popping a piece of gum in his mouth, and pressing his lips to yours in a nearly heated kiss as if to give you a taste of what he had in store of you. As he broke the embrace, his nose brushed against yours. “I can treat you worse if you want, pet?” He offered, causing you to shove him away from you.

“We are literally in your parents’ driveway. Chill out,” you urged, making him chuckle as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling you towards the front door. Your heart hammered in your ears as he pushed open the door. You tugged on his arm. “Shouldn’t we knock first?” You whispered, making him pop his gum and shrug.

As if telling you not to worry, he pulled you the rest of the way in the house, only to be greeted with an old man barely reaching over your height. “Karl! My god, you nearly scared the living daylights outta me!” He hooted, as Karl wrapped his arm around the old man, the two chattering away like the best of friends.

You smiled at the warmth between the two, watching Karl blossom. He moved to stand by you, wrapping his arm around your waist and gesturing to the man. “This is my nanny, Leslie. He wouldn’t leave so I think he just dusts the books in one of the libraries,” Karl joked, making the man swat the air in front of Karl.

You raised your eyebrows. “One of the libraries?” You repeated quietly as if to make sure you heard him correctly.

He smirked at you, disregarding your surprise. “This is my girlfriend,” he introduced, rather proudly as Leslie’s face lit up. He grabbed your hands and rambled on about how he had never thought Karl would introduce a girlfriend to the family.

“I thought I heard Karl’s voice. Did he make it?” A feminine tone rang out into the foyer, capturing Karl’s attention a beat before she had started talking as if he had sensed her. You wanted to smirk at the vision, knowing he did the same when he heard you.

A woman came around the corner of one of the walls, her hair and makeup applied to a professional standard and her clothes were cleanly pressed. She looked as if she had just gotten home from an office job with a corner office. Her intimidating aura vanished along with his as soon as she saw him, scooping him up in her arms as he chuckled slightly. She held him out an arm’s length away, pinching his sides and calling him a beanstalk. Another man a few years older than Leslie entered the room, draped in a flowery apron. He embraced Karl as well, the couple fawning over him like they hadn’t seen him in years.

Karl gestured for you to come closer as he showed you off to the pair, introducing them as his parents. Karl’s mom immediately embraced you, murmuring about how Karl hadn’t brought a girl home in ages let alone a girlfriend and you were quickly being to notice a theme amongst the group.

The house was massive, which you had quickly noticed was even bigger than it looked outside, as Karl’s mother looped her arm around yours, giving you the tour and explaining the extensive history of the Jacobs family and their impact on the house. Leslie and she served as some of the most entertaining tour guides you’d ever experienced as they giggling and joked. Karl walked quietly behind the group of you, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the ceilings and pictures as if he hadn’t seen them a thousand times growing up.

You peered over your shoulder, making sure he was still with the rest of you. He set you a wink, lips curling at the sight of you getting along with his family members.

After you were finally beginning to lose track of time Karl broke into the charade, and after vaguely mentioning he was tired, his mother when into a mock cuddling mode, cooing to him sarcastically, yet letting the two of you slink away for the night with the promise of finishing the tour before Karl’s brother showed up in the morning.

Soon it was just you and Karl again, him leading you up a flight of stairs. The hallways were lit with small lanterns that at one time had probably fostered candles but were now replaced with electric ones. You weren’t sure where to look as the walls were crammed with painting and photographs. Half of you wanted to admire the architecture while the rest of you was attempting to identify who the artist was that had done most of the artwork.

Karl sighed tiredly, popping open a door and switching on the lights. You bit back a smile at the view of his room in its pristine condition. The various shades of blues and greys accenting the features of his bed and various pieces of furniture. As you looked around, he threw his wallet and keys onto the dresser beside his bed, shutting the door to drown out the faint music coming from the kitchen. You sat in one of the massive chairs beside the fireplace, your mind running blank with disbelief. A fire was already burning in anticipation of his return.

You ran your finger along the seam in the leather. “When you said your family had money… I didn’t picture all,” you paused gesturing around you, “… this…”

He shrugged with a small smile on his face. “Do you wanna know a little piece of Karl lore?” He asked, smugly.

You perked your eyebrows at his words. “You know I do.”

He gestured with his fingers for you to come towards him as he walked closer to one of the massive windows. He settled his hand in the crook of your neck, turning you to look across the pond at a few of the other massive properties. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before pointing at one directly in front of you. “I lost my virginity in that one,” he stated, making you chuckle.

He wrapped his arms around your waist. “And to whom?” You queried, as his teeth nipped at your ear.

You could practically hear him smirk. “Her name was Ms. Scarlet back then, but I think she’s been married again,” he answered, making you freeze in his hold. “I think she was between husband two and three.”

“Wait, what?” You turned around to face him.

He brushed his lips against yours. “You jealous?”

You furrowed your brows at him, pulling out of his touch. “Were you of age?” You questioned, voice coming out in almost a winded laugh.

He shrugged, plopping down on the bed behind him, leaning his weight back on his hands. “Not the first time.” He smiled up at you. “She’s a friend of mine’s mom. I cut her grass that summer.”

You rubbed your eyes. “Jesus Christ,” you murmured. “Did you hook up again after that?” It was like he had opened Pandora’s box, a mass of questions echoing like bees within your mind.

He looked at the ceiling. “We stopped before my sophomore year of college, I think.” He furrowed his brows in thought. “Yeah, so almost five years.” Your mouth gapped slightly. “But only when I came back for breaks.”

“You were seventeen?” You stressed. “And when you came back from where?” You sat beside him, attempting to decide if you should be worried or not. Obviously, it wasn’t a fact you could change, but the fact that a woman had him at so young-

He hummed slightly. “Boarding school,” he mumbled, trying not to seem smug. He wrapped his arm around your waist. “I know it sounds bad now, but she wasn’t taking advantage of me or anything,” he assured. “I think you’d like her, honestly.”

“You think I’d like a woman that preys on little boys?” He snorted at your comment and you smacked his chest, making him laugh louder.

He dug his face into your neck. “Age of consent is lower here,” he continued to assure. “Baby, I’m okay.” His teeth nipped at your skin. “Plus, I don’t think I’d know how to make you feel so good without her.” That made you green around the gills. You attempted to put the thought of Karl and an older woman out of your mind. “How did you lose yours?”

You swallowed your questions, deciding to save them for another day. “In a treehouse before I left for college. With my roommate’s twin brother,” you murmured.

He chuckled. “Oh, shit. We’re both bad friends, aren’t we?” He jested.

You shook your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I was dating him, actually. It was really brief.”

“The sex or the relationship?” He asked, making two gesture two fingers into the air. He pulled away from you, sending you a small smile. “And what’s his name? I need to know who you’re comparing me to.”

You scoffed. “Clay,” you answered, the image of the boy flashing into your mind for an instant.

Karl’s demeanor changed. “Clay?” He repeated, sounding like you earlier as you wrapped your brain around the extent of the Jacobs fortune. “What does that seem so familiar…” he trailed off in thought. You perked your eyebrow at him, knowing full-well the two could have unintentionally crossed paths on campus.

The next morning, you could have sworn you were on the set of a period piece if it weren’t for Karl’s father’s golfing attire and his mother’s tight black dress as they welcomed various family members into the house. You had finally met Karl’s older brother, an accomplished man with a good job and an even more impressive education, yet each time he attempted to boast about his earnings or the progress he was bringing to the family business, he was swatted off only for his parents to gloat about Karl’s fraternity connections and grades.

You peered over Karl’s shoulder as he showed you Todd’s Instagram post, the two of you scoffing before you liked his picture from your account, making Karl roll his eyes as you snickered.

“… And that being said, renting cars is no longer a strenuous task,” Karl’s brother finished.

Mrs. Jacobs nodded her head slightly. Karl had mentioned the family joke of disregarding what his brother said, even if it was impressive or you were interested. It had been a running gag since Karl was in high school and they weren’t planning on letting up anytime soon. “Yeah, that’s neat. Did you hear Karl learned how to do his own laundry?” His mom boasted with a small chirp to her voice as if Karl were the best thing on the planet.

You bit back a laugh as his brother grumbled to himself, his wife patting his arm reassuringly. “He was also one of the most expensive at KA. Very impressive son!” His dad added, sending him a thumbs up.

You stood with Karl in the living room; his arm draped around the top of a bookshelf you were leaning against as you both listened to one of his cousins talk about a new boat they had just paid off.

Your heels felt tight on your feet as you switched the weight from one ankle to the other, leaning closer to Karl. He moved so his lips were near your ear. “Don’t let him fool you. It’s a hollowed-out log with a rudder,” he chided, making the corner of your mouth twist up.

“It’s not much, but it’s honest,” you mockingly defended. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“Inexplicably,” he murmured back, making you laugh quietly. He let a beat of silence pass between the two of you before wetting his lips. “Say the word and we’ll find a random room and I’ll ruin your makeup,” he whispered.

You scoffed, inching closer to him while your eyes remained on the center of the room where everyone was talking. “How can you be horny around your family?”

You could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Because I’m more focused on you in that tight little dress than Kevin’s boat.”

You took a sip from your cup. “Dirty boy,” you joshed quietly.

Karl smirked at you before his eyes drifted to the front door, a new flow of people filing into the house. You noticed him grow quiet, following his gaze to a woman and a boy around your age. They greeted Karl’s parents happily before integrating into the living room with the rest of you. You could tell by the way his face twisted smugly that the woman was Ms. Scarlet. You drew in a breath as she neared the two of you.

Karl stood up a bit straighter and you bit back a laugh, making a mental note on having to tease him about his MILF. The woman smiled brightly at Karl, pinching his cheek. You attempted to piece together who the boy was and if Karl had mentioned him before.

Karl cleared his throat after they shared their pleasantries. “Uh, this is Nick, but everyone calls him Sapnap, and this is his mom… Ms. Scarlet?” He questioned the last part as she charmingly laughed.

“Oh, no darling. I’m Mrs. Donahue now.” Sapnap rolled his eyes slightly at her words, taking a sip of his drink as she winked at him.

Karl smirked. “Right, congratulations. Anyway, they’ve been our neighbors for years-”

She cut him off, squeezing his arm. “Oh, come on! We were trying to marry Karl off to one of Nick’s cousins and finally join the families, but it’s just funny how things work out,” she stated. You wracked your brain, attempting to figure out if it was a dig at you or Karl. The two of them went off on a tangent about the array of Sapnap’s cousins that Karl had had to take on dates and whatnot.

“So, you’re dating Karl then?” Sapnap asked you, more of an aside as they had seemed to forget about you.

You nodded; the fact still rather foreign to you when given the chance to think about it. “Yeah, I’ll claim him,” you joked. “Did you guys go to the same high school?” You asked, attempting conversation.

He looked at you tiredly. “Yeah, yeah. We’ve been classmates since we were little.” You hummed in interest. “I mean, since he fucked my mom we haven’t been hanging out or anything,” he added as if you had been itching to ask.

You had been.

You snorted at his words as he smiled slightly. “Sorry, that’s not funny,” you apologized, covering your mouth.

He shook his head, laughing softly. “No, it definitely is, don’t worry.”

“How did, uh… that affect you guys?” You asked, biting back your humorous response.

He seemed to relax from his stiffened introduction a few minutes prior. He wet his lips. “Honestly, there’s no going back from that, you know?”

You giggled. “No, I don’t.”

He laughed at your answer, covering it with a cough as Karl seemed to remember you were standing beside him. Sapnap’s mom suddenly spotted an old friend of hers, the two parting from your life almost as quickly as they had entered. You leaned against Karl’s arm.

“I like Sapnap,” you hummed, watching the two leave. “He seems quiet.” Karl shrugged beside you. Your mind wandered to whether Sapnap knew Todd. Part of you wished you had asked him, but you were struggling to remember Todd’s real name anyway. “Did you have fun with your lady friend?” You mocked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, biting back a smirk. “You’re my lady friend.”

You chuckled. “Oh? I thought you’d forgotten.”

Before you knew it, you were pressed against Karl in a coat closet in a remote part of the house, unable to make it to his room before his hands were up your skirt and his lips were attacking your skin. He pinned you against the door as if he were worried you would slip out of his grasp as he ground his hips against yours. His teeth grazed against your neck in a mess of hands and hair.

You pushed him further into the closet before he plopped down in a chair towards the back. The both of you shared a look of confusion as to why it was there yet shrugged and went back to carding your fingers through his hair and tugging at his lips with your own. He moaned into your mouth as you climbed into his lap, his hands gripping the flesh of your thighs before snaking up to slip into the top of your dress and take your breast into one of his large hands.

Kissing him felt strange without his tongue ring; if you weren’t so desperate to get yourself off, you would have complained about missing it.

You ground yourself on his lap, groaning at your newfound friction as he spread his legs further for you, his free hand dragging you against his crotch. You pressed your lips against his neck, biting at the skin, determined to mark him as yours. You weren’t doing it to ward off Ms. Scarlet, no. This was for you, knowing full well that Karl always wore your hickeys with pride.

Your hands went to his belt buckle, impatience taking over as you nipped at his skin, earning moans of pleasure as he let you have your way with him. He pressed his lips to your chest as you freed his cock from its cloth entrapment, stroking him with your hand. “Give me your panties,” he whispered, breathlessly as he hooked his fingers around your waistband. You obliged before angling him at your entrance and sinking down onto him. The two of you let out moans of pleasure, swallowing each other’s appraisal.

The air grew warm around the two of you as you began to roll your hips against him. Your head tilting back as you tried to quiet yourself down, knowing the last thing you wanted was for someone to walk in… again.

Karl’s fingers moved to unzip your dress, exposing your chest to his mouth as your fingers moved to tug at his dark locks. He ground his hips up into yours, a thankful moan slipping past your lips as his tongue pressed against the valley between your breasts.

You pushed him against the back of the chair, capturing his lips against your and slipping your tongue into his mouth. He completely submitted to your actions, wanting nothing more than to taste you as you began to ride him harder. Your nails dug into the back of the chair, your other hand moving to unbutton the top of his shirt and wrap around his neck. “Is she better than me?” You asked; your breath husky and demanding as his teeth flashed back at you, his leering smirk mixing with his blissed-out expression as he tried not to roll his eyes at how good he felt with you taking all of him.

“N-no. Of course not,” he groaned. His lips were pink from your teeth, cheeks flushed with lust and adrenaline as his blunt nails raked up your body to claw at your back. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, voice almost a whimper.

You moved your hand to press your thumb to brush against his bottom lip, loving the pleasured expression on his face as he looked at you like you owned him. “Good,” you answered plainly, swirling your hips and tightening your grip on his neck before you could feel your impending orgasm nearly within reach. He almost smiled up at you. What a little freak.

You moved your hand to fist in the front of his shirt, pulling him up to press your lips against his as you bounced on top of him. He let out a deep moan before you felt him release, making you scoff sardonically. His fingers moved to grip your hips, thrusting against you harder, determined to get you to follow him. You dug your face into the crook of his neck, his teeth digging into your skin.

Shamelessly, you let him drag you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with a flash of heat and relief. Karl kissed you roughly, desperate to taste your moans as if looking for your approval. "That's my girl," he moaned, smiling against your lips.

As the two of you straightened your clothing and cleaned up your appearances, you went for your underpants in Karl’s pocket, but he grabbed your wrist, drawing you to his chest. “You got to be on top, that means I’m in charge of foreplay for the rest of the night,” he answered, pressing a brief and sultry kiss against your lips to wipe away your shocked expression.

“Fine, then I’m in charge when we get back and I’ll send lewds to Todd,” you threatened with an empty conscious on the matter. “Just to make it spicy. Stir it up a bit,” you joshed.

He groaned, making you smirk. “You’re playing with fire,” he mumbled.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy

[viltrumitesuperboy]

Souvenir (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Gender neutral. My dumbass changed the request so they aren’t already together I am sorry but they needed to meet first

EDIT/DISCLAIMER: I hadn’t watched the films in LITERALLY FOREVER i got some parts wrong but for the record the fantastic beasts book does not say what mooncalves eat and i had to go as creative as possible (... grass)

Requested by: NOT anon but i forgot who requested i’m so sorry Maybe Newt introducing his partner to all of his creatures and one of the creates (possibly another bowtruckle but up to you) getting really attached Flying together on Frank the thunderbird (he's a thunderbird right?) Oh fluffy adorable feeding the baby mooncalves (Can you tell I like cute things and all of his animals?)

Word Count: 1593

You first met Newt when you were out on a late night stroll.

People always said it was dangerous to walk outside late at night, but you had magic, and that would at least protect you from no-majs with ill intent. You would never expect to run into a wizard the way you did.

There was, after all, an Erumpent with a man in a bright blue coat making the strangest movements and sounds. It was certainly interesting. Another man stood off to the side, holding a bottle that was unmistakably one that was used for potions. Once the bottle spilled, you ran closer, hoping that you could counter the effects of the potion before it caused any damage. Instead, the Erumpent turned to him and charged. There was a lot of screaming.

You followed them over the hills of Central Park and a frozen river that you absolutely did not trust to hold the weight of a grown man, much less an Erumpent. You threw a quick spell to solidify it completely, and the three of you had managed to get the Erumpent into a very small case.

"Well, it looks like we've made a new friend!" the skinnier man in the blue coat said. "Thanks for helping."

"I really didn't do anything," you replied.

"Nonsense, you froze the river, didn't you? Wonderful spellwork, by the way," he complimented.

You warily looked at the no-maj, currently trying his best to brush off whatever he had spilled on himself. You knew how dangerous it was for them to know about magic.

"Oh, I'm Newt. This is Jacob. We've been gathering all the magical creatures that... are around the city," Newt explained.

"I'm (Y/N)," you said.

You held your hand out in greeting, and he took it with a mild shake. Jacob's was only slightly firmer.

"You know, I'm good with magical creatures. They were my favourites to look for in the forest of the school I went to. If you want, I can help," you offered.

Newt smiled brightly, and motioned back to the city that surrounded you.

"Well, we've finished with this, and we've got more to do. How about we find the rest of them?"

———

Newt opened his case on the floor, nodding to it with a smile.

"Go on. I promise it's safe," he assured you.

You gave him a stern look and climbed down the ladder into a small, wooden workshop.

"Is this an expanding charm?" you called up as he started to make his own way down. "Amazing work. It's rarely ever neat when I expand anything."

"Well, it helps that I've got other magic to keep everything where it is," he grinned. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the door. You pushed it open, your mouth open in shock as you took in the desert-like area around you.

"Newt!" you exclaimed. "Do you know how much work it takes to do this? You either have very powerful magic or a lot of time on your hands."

"Well I wouldn't say I'm very powerful," he humbly responded. "I've had this case for years, and I only started with a few of these areas. Now it's a lot more, but that's not the point."

He gestured to move on, and you followed wordlessly. The disturbance in the background made it clear that it was a piece of cloth rather than the actual background, and he pushed it aside to reveal the Erumpent you had helped him retrieve.

"I found her a while ago, and I'll be returning her home once she's ready. I'd bring you closer but after recent events, I think it would be better not to cause unnecessary damage to all of New York City."

You both laughed. He led you through another curtain to where the Niffler dove into a hole, and the bowtruckles were all on a tree together.

"I'm sure you already know the bowtruckles aren't as friendly as the others in this case, but Pickett likes to hang around me sometimes," Newt said.

He put his hand out for one of the bowtruckles, who climbed onto his hand and scampered up his arm, clinging to his bowtie for a few seconds. Newt had to pull Pickett off and back into his hand, and raised him up between the two of you. You were both met each other's eyes. He looked nervous for a split second, then brought up Pickett between your line of view.

"Say hello, Pickett! This is (Y/N)."

"Hi there," you smiled.

You waved your hand to the little green creature. He jumped from Newt's hand to your shirt, and found his way to the top of your head.

"Pickett! You know you need to ask before you climb someone like that," Newt scolded.

He had his hands on his hips and glared at the bowtruckle sternly. Pickett made a noise that sounded suspiciously like blowing a raspberry and rested himself in your hair.

"I think he likes me," you laughed. "Isn't it rare for bowtruckles to be this friendly?"

"Yes, but I think-"

Newt suddenly cut himself off as a blush grew on his face. You furrowed your eyebrows at him.

"You think what?" you asked.

"Um, I talk to the creatures about you sometimes? I think he remembered your name."

You hadn't known each other too long, but you figured it was enough to be good friends.

"Oh, that's nice. It's great to meet them," you said.

He gestured for you to follow him. He turned quickly as you walked, probably to hide his red face. By the time you reached a large nest, it was completely gone and replaced with a wide smile.

"This is an Occamy! They are usually very protective of their young, but I've earned her trust just enough. I'll be releasing her and her babies once they're a little more grown," Newt said.

The blue serpent-like creature inspected you as you approached the nest. A peer over the edge gave you a glimpse of a smaller Occamy, playing with its siblings. There were chirps coming from the nest. Newt brought you along to a different environment, one that looked more like a desert.

"And that's Frank," he said.

You both looked up to see a Thunderbird flying on his own in the sky. He began to drop down and land as he spotted you.

"Frank, this is my friend! Be nice," Newt said. "You can hold your hand out to him."

You hesitantly put your hand up, around where the bird's beak would be if he was in front of you. Frank shuffled his wings, then got closer until the feathers just under his eye were tickling your hand. You carefully stroked the feathers there, and he closed his eyes in content.

"I'm in America for a lot of reasons, and all of them are to bring these creatures back home," Newt said. "Tina and Queenie have been nice enough to let me stay with them while I'm still here."

"You're welcome to stay with me as well," you smiled.

You continued onto the next area, a quieter and darker one lit by a full moon on one of the curtains. The creatures were like a strange mix of a sheep and a cow with the largest eyes that didn't look like they would fit in their heads.

"Mooncalves!" you said, taking a few steps closer.

"Wait, come back. I'll have you feed them, since it's already time."

They were still a distance away. Despite their shy nature, they were still intrigued by the new addition to their temporary home. They started to get closer. After a few minutes of preparing the bowls with Newt, two of them had already gotten very close to you. They nudged your legs, knowing that you had something they wanted. When Newt walked with his bowl closer to the rest of the mooncalves, they all flocked to him. You followed behind, and some went to you.

"Throw a bit of this onto the ground right here."

He picked up a handful of what looked like rice grains and threw them across the ground. You did the same until the soil was mostly covered. Newt pulled out his wand and mumbled a spell, which caused the soil to cover the little grains and grass to spring up from where they dropped instead. The mooncalves rushed over to the grass and began to graze.

"Grass seeds! It's much more convenient than carrying grass or taking them outside when there's a full moon," Newt explained.

"That's amazing," you complimented, which he bashfully brushed off.

He took your bowl and put it away. A bowtruckle returned to his tree and a niffler nearly grabbing your pen lined with shiny metal later, you both returned to your small room. It was as if you'd entered another world or a dream and were now being pulled back into reality. You stood face to face with Newt, a grin present on his.

"If you're not staying in New York too long, I think maybe you'd need a souvenir before you go," you whispered.

"What's that?"

You took a step closer to him and slowly pressed your lips to his. He brought you closer, a hand on your back to keep the both of you steady. When you pulled away, he kept his hand there.

"That might be one of the best souvenirs I'll ever receive, but I think I can find one better."

"Can you really?"

He laughed breathlessly, and pulled you closer once more.

[pradaksj]

the swimming lessons

all rights reserved © pradaksj

↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

❧ pairing⟶  jungkook/reader

��� genre⟶  swimminginstructor!jungkook , fluff, a bit of comedy? head canon/bullet points 

❧ rating⟶ e for everyone??? none??? idk how ratings work lol i just know that m = the dirty, which this story has none of

❧ word count ⟶ 5,000 

❧ summary ⟶  accidental swimming lessons with jungkook were definitely worth the money 

❧ a/n ⟶ i literally dreamt something similar to this in like january and told myself i'd write about it when i had the time so hear i am :)) this goes out to all my folks who can’t swim !! i'm on the same boat with you , get it?  cause we can’t swim ... ok anyways ... enjoy ! (note: i have not proofread this yet so sorry for any mistakes!! ill get to it soon !! ) 

“hello, welcome to lucky duck swim school, how can i help you?” the receptionist, who was loudly chewing her gum, sounded more like an automated voice message than a person...

see today was your first official swimming lesson

yay!! 

how fun!! ...

://

totally not embarrassing for someone your age !!!

honestly, it wasn't your fault you didn’t have any family members or friends with a big pool you could learn in growing up 

and by the time you did, you were too much of in an awkward phase to be properly taught

aka your body absolutely refusing to float on its own anymore

but after several trips to the beach with friends and attending different pool parties, you were tired of being made fun of !! 

no longer would you remain at 5 feet and under !!! not on your watch ! 

and so here you were, ready to start your journey into the world of swimming :)) 

“hi i um have a swimming lesson at 3 with um ... i believer her name was um—” 

hmmm what was her name ??? jennie??? no, maybe it was aaliyah ??? no that wasn’t it.... 

the receptionist taps on her keyboard buttons, her long nails making a noise 

pop, her bubblegum goes 

“jungkook” 

“yeah jungkook” you mindlessly say. 

wait 

WAIIITT

jungkook????

ummmmm 

that was not the game given to you by the last receptionist 

jungkook is a boy’s name !!! 

you didn’t want a boy instructor !!! 

not with the way you were looking 

“i um—i had asked for a girl instructor—” you awkwardly mention 

she rolls her eyes

um RUDE 

she continues clacking with her keyboard, looking for god knows what 

she sighs 

“there’s no slots with female instructors available for today, nor for the rest of the month, the earliest i can probably squeeze you in by is july.” she bluntly states. 

JULY??? 

july was when you needed to already know how to swim !!

that’s the peak of summer ! 

there was no point in knowing during winter or any other season besides summer for that matter 

and you were not going to get made of by your friends this year

no no NO

“soo do i reschedule you or.....” 

you sigh 

“no ill take it” you pout, resembling a child. 

“it it makes you feel any better, jungkook’s our best instructor, most popular too” 

wink 

oh yeah that makes you feel so much better 

>:( 

you were going to make a complete fool out of yourself in front of the so called “best instructor” 

“well go get yourself washed up, get into the pool, and jungkook will be with you shortly” she smiles, her attitude now changing now that (what looked to be a supervisor) was passing by. 

what a bi—

flip flop. flip flop. flip flop. 

your sandles press onto the water on the floor of the girls locker room, a grouchy look now on your face 

this wasn't fair 

you made an appointment with a female instructor!! 

you didn’t care if he was the best instructor or the most popular ...

squeeaaakkk , you twist the rusty shower handle

...because now you were you were going to be judged for your lack of skills 

not that you had any to begin with, but still! 

god, you sounded like such a karen ... 

it’s just ...

a guy instructor ??? 

really??? 

you understood that this wasn’t elementary school anymore and boys certainly didn’t have cooties anymore but like :// 

no no, you had to give this jungkook guy the benefit of the doubt

if he was one of the best, it was clearly because he was professional and good at what he does 

putting your worries to rest, you turn off the shower 

this was going to be fine

just fine 

clearly your worries were not put to rest 

just a temporary halt 

:) 

pat. pat. pat. 

okay let’s get it ! 

making your way out to the pool, you dip your foot in 

ooooo 

cold

VERY cold indeed 

1 ...2...

you dip your whole leg in, quickly using the momentum to place your whole body in 

“5 feet and below ... you’re my bitch !!” you think to yourself 

your hand still clearly gripping onto the ledge, still afraid of accidentally reaching 6ft

.... now to wait 

“megan seems to have fractured her leg last weekend on a rollerskating day gone bad, so you’ll be taking up her appointments for the next month of two until she’s cleared for work” 

huh ???

“but—” 

“also she, well now you i guess, have a lesson to teach at..” 

jungkook’s supervisor looks down at his watch 

“oh i guess in 30 minutes, could’ve sworn it was at 4..” he mumbles that last part to himself

30 minutes?! 

“don’t worry i’ll up your pay for the remaining time that she gets better” 

he winks ;) making a clicking noise with his mouth before leaving the staff room 

jungkook sighs 

today was supposed to be an easy day :/ 

a simple cleaning of the pool along with a couple of measly hours of being the lifeguard and that would’ve been it but noooo 

he just had to be the highest rated swimming instructor on the company website 

he couldn’t complain though, sometimes it was fun reading the reviews past students left, even if sometimes they were a little too...

whats the word...

provocative? 

it often made him wonder if he was in fact an actual good swimming instructor or if the high highly rated reviews were for other reasons.... 

honestly it’d be dumb of him not to acknowledge the amount of googly eyes he’d get ranging from the mother’s of his younger students to his actual adult students (female and male) 

he just liked to think that didn’t come into play when they wrote their reviews 

hehe 

changing into his black fitted rash guard, he glanced at megan’s schedule 

name : y/n 

age: 23 grown

swimming level: beginner  aka noob. 

he chuckles to himself 

well won’t this be fun 

he couldn’t lie beginner adult swimmers were always a spectacle to watch 

they almost reminded him of baby ducks learning how to swim 

only that they’d verbally curse their frustrations here and there 

quickly showering, he begins to make his way to the pool 

hmm, he wonders..

what should he eat after today’s lesson? 

a bacon cheese burger sounded really good 

maybe even grab himself some birria tacos from that new restaurant that just opened near his apartment 

hmm no he had to start spending less on takeout 

sigh 

looks like it’d be rame—

woah 

as corny as it sounded, he could’ve sworn he felt his heart skip a beat 

because whoever it was in that pool was pretty, like really pretty 

hOly ????? 

wowzers 

you couldn’t be y/n ... could you?!?!?! 

you were the only person who looked 23 years of age in the pool ...

ermmmmmm 

mayday mayday 

jungkook.exe has STOPPED WORKING  

whoever this jungkook person was, sure was taking their time 

deciding to have some fun before your lesson, you begin to gently play with the water 

swish. swoosh , the water goes 

soon you’d be well on your way to becoming the next michael phelps 

hehe 

maybe with time you’d even be able to a somersault in the water like your friend always—

“y/n?” a voice from behind says your name

ah finally 

taking in a deep breath, you turn your attention to the so called “best swimming instructor” 

OH.

MY .

GOD. 

WHAT ?????? 

this man looked like he came straight out of GQ magazine !!!! 

this HAD to be some mistake , there was just no way ... 

your cheeks feel as if they were burning up 

probably because they quite literally were 

there was no way you’d be able to come here every saturday for the next month, not without fawning for this dude every single minute 

“u-um” 

of course you were a stuttering mess

of FuCkiNg course 

“that’s me” 

cue the awkward smile 

:) 

“be professional” jungkook tells himself

at the end of the day, you were his student 

any crush on you would just have to wait until of course ... you were no longer his student 

for now the only goal was : teach you how to swim 

the next one down the list being : to take you out on a date ! 

he offers you a handshake 

wow he had a strong grip 

“i’m jungkook, i’ll be your swimming instructor for the next month” 

he flashes you his all too famous smile

there was just no way this man was real

just nO wAy 

“um..” 

crap, you were still holding his hand! 

idiot, idiot, idiot ! 

“sorry” you awkwardly laugh 

ha ha ha 

so funny 

:/ 

god did you just want to hide to disappear 

“it’s fine” he laughs 

even his laugh was attractive :( 

ugh 

“so y/n, before we begin with anything, i think it’s important to review about what kind of things you already know and what you don’t” 

oh right ... 

for a moment you had COMPLETELY forgotten you were here for swimming lessons 

how embarrassing 

“oh um..” 

um, um , um. 

IS THAT ALL YOU KNEW HOW TO SAY???? 

“so like floating, holding your breath underwater, pushing, gliding, arm movement, that kind of stuff,” he explains 

you knew a cool trick to make it look like you were water bending :D 

of course you weren’t going to admit that here 

silently you nod your head no 

he gives you a reassuring smile, sensing your timidness 

“that’s fine, only more for us—” he corrects himself, “for you to learn,” he laughs 

hey you weren’t complaining 

;) 

“so i personally always like to start off with teaching my students how to float. as long as we get that down then you’ll have no problem learning the rest” 

gosh his smile was so infectious 

shaking your head, you reminded yourself that this was your teacher 

+ you paid 300 bucks for these classes, so you couldn’t afford to be giving him the googly eyes all day 

you were so cute :( 

jungkook couldn’t help but find you so endearing 

the color of your swimming goggles even matched your swim suit :(( 

so cute ! 

“okay so the first thing i want you to practice is going underwater for a couple of seconds, just so you get used it,” he instructs, “i’ll demonstrate” 

taking in a deep breath, he goes down under 

1...2...3 

he’s back up 

pausing for about another three seconds, he takes in another deep breath of air before going back under 

1...2....3...4....5

he repeats the same thing over and over, until the max count becomes 20. 

“use my finger as your reference of when to go up, but come up for air whenever you feel like you need to. it’s important to go at your own pace, so don’t feel pressured to get it the first try” 

no pressure at all 

okay 

“you ready?” 

you nod your head 

“okay, deep breath in”

you sink your head underwater, mentally counting the three seconds before going back up 

“good job,” he gives you a high five, and you almost feel like a schoolgirl, “now let’s try to five seconds” 

woo!!! 5 seconds here you come !! 

taking in a deep breath you go down under again 

1....2.....3....4...5

easy peasy ... LEMON SQUEEZY 

“okay now to ten” 

1.....2......3......4.....5......6....7

umm

now why were these seconds going by slow all of a sudden? 

sucking it up you manage to make it to 10, but not without being out of breath 

“you okay?” he’s quick to ask 

yup, totally fine ! 

you definitely didn’t see the gates of heaven for a quick moment :D 

nodding your head, you enthusiastically say, “let’s go for 15″ 

he smiles at your enthusiasm

ahh so cute 

“1....2.....3......4......5.......6......7......8......9.....10.....11.....12....13...

nope nope nope

you were not going to make it to 15 

immediately you make your way back to the surface, trying to catch your breath 

“hey you did amazing,” he immediately reassures you, “remember as long your going your own pace then you’re doing just fine” 

<3 

well doesn’t that make you feel better 

you wonder if he’s this kind to all his students 

besides the most obvious reason, there was no question as to why he was the “most popular” instructor 

and to think you had been complaining earlier !! 

and soon you’re back underwater, going at your own pace until finallyyyy you’re able to make the 20 second count 

“nice !!” he genuinely celebrates with you, making you feel completely proud for yourself 

“okay now that we have that done, we can move onto learning how to float facing both front and back” 

ohhhhh

he was just thinking ahead 

cool :o 

“so what i want you do is first relax,” he laughs, gently pushing your stiff shoulders down 

as if your blush couldn’t get any deeper 

“now my personal belief is that all humans can naturally float, just that for others, it takes a bit of a push to get them at that state,” he begins to explain 

others meaning people like um you 

“the key to floating is to relax” 

oh you’ve heard that before

many MANY times and each time you’ve tried to so called “relax” you just end up sinking 

“the moment you fight or stress for even a tiny bit, you will sink. now i know what you’re thinking, ive heard that before” 

damn 

he was good 

“but sadly it’s true, until you learn to relax then you’ll be able to swim” 

you sigh 

this was where it became hard 

you were the queen of stress 

you and stress went hand in hand almost like a married couple 

it was just that deep water was scary !! very very scary !! 

the amount of horror stories you’d seen on tiktok was enough for you to know, ocean = scary 

“so here’s what i need you to do, i need you to place your arms on top of the water like as if you’re going to fly” 

you follow his commands 

he separates your arms, which had been too close together, giving them a small rub 

“remember you need to relax y/n,” he chuckles, feeling the tension in your arms

“relax, i need to relax,” you repeat 

“okay now right now when i tell you, you’re gonna take a deep breath in and look down, from there you’re gonna let you body move forward. so remember you’re not gonna jump, you’re just gonna let your body glide forward and float. almost as if you’re flying to me,” he explains 

mm it was easier said than done  

“you ready?” 

“okay deep breath in” 

you inhale a deep breath in 

“look down” 

you do that as well 

“and let go” 

slowly your body begins to rise on its own 

oh my god !!!!! 

you were about to float!!!!! 

the day has come !!!

no more staying at 5 feet and under 

you were ready to hang with the big kids :D 

but as quick as the momentum came, the faster it left because soon you felt yourself sinking, the breathing exercise jungkook had made you do now coming in handy 

no!!!! 

you almost had it :( 

it was right in your grasp, only to have it snatched away 

not wanting to offend you, jungkook keeps his giggles to himself 

“hey at least you almost had it,” he comforts you, “let’s just try again” 

you sigh, now letting your doubts creep in 

because of this, this time your body almost immediately sank this time

he frowns 

you were losing confidence :/ 

“come on i’ll help you” 

grabbing your hands, he signals for you to follow his breathing pattern

“deep breath in” 

“deep breath out” 

god, was his voice soothing 

“i need you to relax y/n, let everything go” 

a soft feeling of relaxation washes over you, similar to that feeling you’d get when you were on the verge of sleeping

“i’m gonna let you go at the count of three, and then you’re going to float, okay?” 

silently you nod, knowing that speaking would only cause you to tense up again 

“1...2....” 

he lets go, and soon you’re floating, just like he said you would 

you hold your breathe for a good while before standing back up, a huge smile on your face 

“holy shit! i did it!!” 

he gives you high five with both of his hands, for a second holding them before letting go 

“now let’s try floating on your back” 

he notices that there’s now a fire in your eyes that wasn’t there before

clearly you were now more determined to learn, excited too

preparing yourself to float once more, you realize you were missing something.... 

“jungkook...” 

he tilts his head, confused by the faint blush on your cheeks 

“do you think you can um—” 

now it was his turn to blush 

“o-oh yeah” 

what was his problem??? 

you were a student asking for help 

that was all ...

point blank. 

he helps you get on your back, his hand placed under your back as a way to keep you up 

“1....2....” 

you float easily again!! 

“nice!!” he smiles 

summer, here you come !! 

“okay so we’re gonna keep practicing that for the remaining time that we have and next week i’ll start teaching you about stroke techniques and which ones are easiest to do” 

nodding your head, you practice your floating by the end of the hour  having it practically mastered 

the two of you get out of the pool, now drying off 

“you’re a really fast learner y/n,” he compliments you 

hehe 

you mean, you didn’t wanna brag butttt 

you were a fast learner indeed 

“thank you,” you say in return, “but that’s only because you’re a great teacher” 

woah 

did you really say that :o 

aren’t you feeling a little bold today y/n  

his blush returns for the second time today

well technically you weren’t in class anymore ... 

a little flirting wouldn’t hurt right? 

if only he knew what to say .... 

hmmmm 

“well at least you won't ever drown!” 

HUH???????

jungkook, you idiot !!!!! 

someone needed to smack him straight in the face for that ! 

at least you won’t drown????

no fucking shit 

well there goes his chances with you now going down the drain 

but to his surprise, you laugh 

“you’re right, i won’t,” you say in return, “well i’ll see you next weekend jungkook” 

you flash him a smile, and he was certain he felt butterflies in his stomach 

walking into the girl’s locker room, you let out a sigh of relief

wheeeeew ! 

faking confidence was hard ! 

very VERY hard 

“so today you’re going to learn how to stroke so you can officially be called someone who knows how to swim, next week you’ll learn to tread water and continue perfecting your swimming, and then the final week i’ll teach you some fun extra things” 

“sounds good,” you say, definitely excited to learn more. 

“okay so now that you know how to float, right now when you float facing downward, you’re going to pull against the current with your arms, alternating each one. now the tricky part is that while you do that, you also have to paddle your legs a little and come up for air when you need to, and when you’re back in the water you should slowly be exhaling bubbles of air rather than holding your breath” 

well that sounded hard :/ 

“let me give you a demonstration,” jungkook says

he’s quick to float facing downward, showing you the maneuver he wanted you to learn while coming up for air every five seconds

thought it was a little childish, he somehow still looked good doing it 

he truly was blessed with the looks of a god 

he comes out the water

“okay now your turn” 

you nod your head, that determined look you had on your face last week now returning 

following his example, you begin your attempt at paddling and stroking your arms at the same time

SPLASH! SPLASH! SPLASH! 

immediately you begin to panic and water begins to splash everywhere, including on jungkook 

noticing your panicked state, jungkook is quick to grab you and place you back on your feet 

“hey hey, i got you,” he comforts you, not wanting you to feel discouraged 

you sigh 

:/ 

well that was embarrassing 

“remember y/n you have to learn to coordinate everything, so think of it this way. your legs have to always be paddling, it’s the arm and coming up for air that switch roles. when you come up for air, it’s only your legs paddling, while when you’re head is back underwater it’s both your legs and arms paddling. once you get that pattern, the bubbling will come naturally” 

you make an ohhhhh face

you could do that ! 

“remember what i told you last weekend y/n, you need to relax and be comfortable so you can build confidence. there’s no need to panic because i’m here,” he smiles at you 

gosh this just wasn't fair >:( 

cute and charming ???? 

this boy really had it all 

not wanting to disappoint, you try one more time, failing once again 

now you were frustrated :/ 

“damn it,” you mumble to yourself, a sadness to your voice

jungkook feels his heart swell 

he didn’t like seeing you sad :( 

but doggy paddling was the most basic technique he could teach you so he couldn’t really cheer you up by offering a different technique 

you needed to learn to doggy paddle before you could move on to the more bigger strokes

damn it ://  

“hey don’t feel bad about not getting right away,” he gives you a small smile, “i remember when i first started learning it took me forever to even learn how float, so the fact that you’re already at this point is enough of an accomplishment” 

well that makes you feel little better ... 

“but you were probably a kid, im ...” 

old , is what you want to say 

figuring what you were gonna say, he only laughs 

“who said i was a kid? i was probably like 19″ 

whaaaaaattttt! 

assuming he was your age (which he was), you do the quick maths in your head 

that was like .... 4 years ago ! 

how the hell did he get so good in such little time???? enough to be teaching courses ??? 

“not knowing how to swim is nothing to be embarrassed about y/n, if anything it takes a lot of courage to even sign up for a class so don’t beat yourself up too much for not getting it right away” 

he ruffles your wet hair, a small affectionate gesture 

you didn’t know how it was possible but you were falling for this man and QUICKLY at that 

he was just so ??$%@^! 

UGHHHH

“so let’s try one more time, and if you still can’t get it then we’ll push it to next week, a free extra lesson on me” 

eeeeek 

though the temptation to purposely fails was very intriguing indeed, you still had to try for the sake of it 

if you got it, you got it, and if you didn't well .... 

an extra week with jungkook it was :D 

“you ready?” 

you nod your head 

“1...2...” 

you float and begin to paddle, this time actually getting the hang of it !!!

you hear jungkook’s muffled voice from above the surface, “there you go!!” 

holy shit ! 

you officially knew how to swim !!! 

at least enough to save your own life if push came to shove 

once you were out of breath, you stand back up, a grin on both of your faces 

for jungkook it was hard not to tackle you in excitement so instead he settled for a very enthusiastic high five 

“you did it!” he cheers 

“ahhh!” you giggle like a child 

“from here on out, the rest is a piece of cake!” 

yay yay yay !!! 

“now let’s start working on deeper strokes, maybe we’ll even have time to throw in backstrokes!”

:////

noticing your changed expression, he awkwardly laughs while scratching his neck 

“or maybe not” 

this week was the final week of swimming lesson with jungkook

:(( 

last week’s lesson of treading water and perfecting your swim seemed to had gone by in literally the blink of an eye ! 

and so today was possible the last time you’d see jungkook unless you managed to grow the balls and ask him out once that clock hit 4, once you were no longer his “student"

by now you were 100% sure you liked the dude... like a lot 

and he was definitely someone you wanted to get to know outside of this pool 

you just weren’t sure if he liked you the same way 

you mean yeah there were definitely times that had you raising an eyebrow here and there, but you always excused it as him simply being a kind hearted person by nature 

because clearly his five star rating on the company’s website had to come from somewhere 

not that you checked or anything....

who were you kidding 

yes you did

your favorite review was the one that went..

“wow!! this dude is amazing !! came here for beginner lessons and even i found myself fawning for the dude , and i don’t even play for that side of the team !! not only were his lessons thorough, but he’s a very charming person ! 10/10 recommend!” 

and so you were stuck 

did he liked you or was he just treating you like he treated everyone?? 

“ahh y/n,” jungkook’s voice suddenly brings you back to reality 

“today’s our final lesson!” he announces, not sounding too sad

in fact he sounded excited  

damn :/ 

he playfully jumps into the pool, today being his so called “fun day” 

“so since today’s your last lesson i thought i could teach you how to do a.....” 

he pauses for dramatic purposes 

“SOmERSAuLT!!”

immediately your eyes light up 

ahhhhhHHHH!!!! 

you always wanted to learn how to do a somersault in water, remembering the number of times you’d look at your friend in jealousy whenever she did one 

“you ready??” 

eagerly you nod your head yes

“okay so the steps to doing a summersault is first of course, you need to take a deep breath” 

okayyyy 

“from there you tuck your chin to your chest, next you do the moment of the somersault by swinging your chest forward and gently kicking out your legs, so basically forming a ball and then kicking out.  naturally, if you have enough momentum, you’ll spin, but if you don’t just use your arms to complete it” 

“think you can give me a demonstration?” you innocently ask 

he winks at you, “of course i can” 

taking in a deep breath, he follows his own instructions, and you watch he perfectly executes his somersault 

“woahhh, that was so cool!” you say, even now finding the trick to be amazing 

“now i dont expect you to get it right away, so right now that you try i’m going tog hide you thought the movement so you get the gist of it” 

sounds fair enough 

you weren’t trying to drown on your last day either 

“okay, you ready?” 

“yes” 

“let’s get it!” 

taking a deep breath in, you feel jungkook’s hand get placed on your back, ready to push you so you could do the somersault 

“1...2...” 

and slowly you feel yourself spin with the help of jungkook, a smile already forming on your face 

“ahhh!” you smile big and wide, causing Jungkook to smile along with you 

“you think you’re ready to try it on your own???” 

“yes sir” 

“okay 1....2....” 

mustering up as much as force you possible could, you push yourself into ball and successfully do the somersault 

YUPPPPP 

WHOSE DOING IT LIKE YOU???!$%@$!

feeling an immediate rush of adrenaline, you begin to splash water all over once you come back up for air, declaring an all out water fight with jungkook 

soon the two of you are chasing one another, you now using your new swimming abilities to get away 

hehe 

you’re a swimmer 

:D 

the sound of jungkook’s infectious laughter fill the air and soon you feel him grab your waist at an attempt to stop you 

“gotcha” he says, and he turns you around to face him 

slowly each other’s heavy breathing becomes relaxed, and it’s as if you’ve felt a shift occur in what you considered your new “friendship” 

“so....” he awkwardly says, hands still wrapped around your waist 

his was was RED

like cherry tomatoes red 

this only makes you giggle 

if you had doubts before, you DEFINITELY didn’t have em anymore 

he liked you :)))) 

and you liked him :)))) 

and in ten minutes you were officially no longer his student so......

“there’s this new restaurant that opened near my place....” you say 

immediately his eyes light up 

“cancun eats?” 

you nod your head and he gives you a toothy grin 

“i was wondering if you’d want to go out some time...” you muster up the courage to ask him out 

%^@%!@&!@^&@%! = jungkook’s brain 

holy crap !!! 

you liked him!!! 

he wasn’t just delusional !!! 

“hello?? jungkook??” you laugh, waving a hand in front of his face for jungkook.exe had truly stopped working this time 

nodding his head yes like a child,  the two of you being to lean closer to another, the clear goal in mind being each other’s lips

because honestly you’d come this far now, might as well give him a .... 

“wait!” he suddenly interrupts  he glances at the digital clock on the wall, remembering your final lesson officially ends at 4

because no way in hell was he going to get fired for kissing a student on the clock 

3:59 

.....

4:00 

“okay now,” he smiles, and you only roll your eyes, happy to have taken up on those swimming lessons. 

a/n : i was gonna make this longer but this was always meant to be a small little head canon so :))) pls give this a like, comment, or a reblog if you enjoyed it !! (if u can of course) and my ask box is always open for whatever !! :)) see yall next time 💞

[crescentsteel]

Keeping a Secret - Part 3

pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn warnings: lots of swear words, tsukki being a a closet softie wc: 7.3k (Ill just stop apologizing for this long chapter updates at this point)

[a/n]

Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu

AO3

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

“Remind me again why are we here.” Tsukishima tells you as soon as he steps foot inside your room. 

He scans the room and immediately notices the mess that it is, particularly the top bunk of the bed which he doesn’t doubt must be your share of it.

On the wall on the left side of the room are posters of seascapes and sea animals of different varieties while the desk bolted under it are framed photos of Sendai Frogs. He recognizes them all;, one was taken from the first win of the team on the first year you joined as the manager. The second is a photo of the team at the gym with the new members that year, including Kyoutani who had just recently joined. The last one is a selfie of you on the bus doing a peace sign and winking at  the camera while everyone was sleeping.

He kinda feels bad for your roommate now. You’re practically hogging the whole room.

You put down your bag on the floor and shoot him a confused look. “To do our project?” 

When you told him to meet in your dorm, he agreed because he thought you meant the common area. After all, he had no reason to think you’d invite him to your room. You two may have disregarded the club incident, tucking it away as a sordid memory from a night of insanity, but that doesn’t mean it is forgotten. However, that doesn’t seem to be the case with you as you appear to genuinely find nothing wrong with the current situation. 

You seat yourself at your table, taking out your laptop and notes from the trip last time.

“Go sit, Tsukishima,” you say without even looking at him as you spread out your notes on the table’s surface as your laptop boots up. 

“We could’ve just done this in the library, or at least in the lobby,” he says as a matter-of-factly.

“True, but I also don’t see any problem with doing it here,” you answer passively, still occupied with arranging your papers. 

He was right. It really does not bother you at all. So, he shouldn’t be bothered with it either. This way, at least, no one would see you and him together. You’re a person he doesn’t want to be associated with hanging around with anyways. 

“Do you always invite your groupmates to your room?” He asks out of curiosity since it didn’t seem like anything for you to just invite him in, as if you didn’t care much about your privacy. 

“Hmm. Depends,” you answer. 

He takes out his own laptop, but still eyes you as he prods further. “On what?”

The curve of your lips tugs up slightly as you sit up straight and lift your gaze away from the notes you took out and finally turn your attention to him.

“I welcome those who won’t get handsy with me.”

“Even if you’re the one who’d get handsy with them?” he boldly counters.

You cock your head to the side with hints of amusement playing across your features, which vexes him. The question was supposed to tear your composure, not entertain you. 

“Alright, let’s get the fucking elephant out of the room since it bothers you so much,” you announce with levity. 

If you’re going to be honest, the kiss still finds its way to your mind sometimes. You just keep pushing it off so that you won’t get stressed out by it. What you find interesting is that he still keeps shoving that fact that you kissed him as if you wanted to do so.

Well, you literally did kiss him, but it’s not like you sought for it prior to the incident. 

It just … happened.

“I’ll come clean, good sir, if you’ll allow me,” you declare sarcastically before setting a more serious tone. “I admit it. It was one hell of a mistake to kiss you. But I didn’t mean to. As ridiculous as it sounds, I really didn’t. It was just one of those stupid, off-the-cuff things people do.” 

Your voice takes an accusatory note when you ask, “And why do you sound like I harassed you or something? Hmm? ‘Cause if I remember correctly.”

You cross your arms and look up, pretending to be deep in thought before facing him again with a fraudulent shock. “Oh right!” you exclaim exaggeratedly. “You kissed me back,” you add in almost a sing-song manner.

You put an elbow on the table and rest your cheek on your palm as you hold his glare with a snide grin. “How about that?” 

He continues shooting daggers at you but you don’t falter. Quite soon enough, he lets up and returns to the passive, apathetic face he usually wears, which signals your victory for the argument. “Like you said, it was one of those dumb on the spot whims.”

You nod agreeably. “Alright, great. Now that that has been established, let me reassure you. It’s never ever gonna happen again. Ever.”  

Your eyes are devoid of any humor while your words drip with firm resolve. Yet, he finds it off that you’re not asking him to do the same given that you both just agreed that you are equally accountable for that imprudent act. He is almost just as guilty. 

“Aren’t you going to ask the same from me?”

Your somber expression breaks into a humored one as a laugh rumbles from your throat. You shake your head in comical delight while you look at him. “No, I won’t. Actually...” you drift off as you scoot closer to him until you’re right beside him. “Give it your best shot.”

You close your eyes and tilt your chin up. Did you really just dare him to kiss you? Kiss those stupid lips and have a repeat of that appalling night? 

Should he?

He would do it just to erase the smug off your face, just to prove you wrong. But similar to that night, he can’t bring himself to do it. He hates the idea of instigating such a thing. 

Even more so now that he’s already had a taste of those lips. Those lips that felt too exquisite that it infuriated him. Those lips that took away his logical thinking. With you offering those lips to him so generously, you make him hate them even more. That pretty face and that playful smile of yours do nothing but add to his fury. 

“Can you get your face away from me?” 

You peek one eye open before bursting into laughter, making his displeasure towards you skyrocket. Why the fuck is he always your laughing stock?

“See? This is why I don’t mind you coming over, Tsukishima. I bet if I strip naked right now, you’d walk out in a heartbeat.”

His scowl deepens. The mental image of your unclad body is very much unwelcome and unappreciated. “Bring that up again and I really will leave,” he snaps. 

Even with your smile intact, your humored expression dissolves a bit and is replaced by a curious guise.

“You know, everyone likes me except you,” you say with no shred of diffidence.  

You really are full of yourself. You might be ‘likeable’ for a lot of people, but that doesn’t mean every single person you meet actually likes you. He’s certain there are people who you rub off the wrong way -- people like him. 

“Isn’t that a bit too conceited, even for you?”

You shrug your shoulders indifferently. “Maybe so. But you’re the only person who shoves your blatant dislike on my face.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it for the past three years,” he replies as he flips his laptop open and boots it up so he can turn his attention somewhere other than you. 

“I didn’t need to work with you like this for the past three years.”

He doesn’t know where you’re going with the conversation so he doesn’t respond anymore. He’s certain you know why he finds you a pain in the neck. You constantly get on his grill with every opportunity you get. Maybe if you didn’t, he could actually tolerate your topsy turvy persona. But it’s as if it’s your personal mission to aggravate him.

“I’m putting the deal I offered during the trip,” you announce.

“What deal?” he asks as he starts typing bullet points of what should be done today so he can go home already.

“Forget I’m the annoying manager when it’s just us two. And I won’t deliberately piss you off.”

He types the last bullet point before returning his attention on you. “Then what? I suddenly become nice to you?”

“Hell no! I’m not asking for a fucking miracle. It’s not like you’re ever nice to anybody. Geez!” you explain derisively. “I just want us to have a conversation where you’re not giving me death glares.”

You give him a smile, one that lacks your usual haughtiness. Still, he can’t tell if you’re being serious or if you’ll actually manage to hold the deal you’re proposing. Truth be told, he wants it. He can’t handle you being your usual if you two have to meet beyond training hours and, even worse, in private. 

If this keeps up, he might end up cursing this subject by the end of the semester, which would be a waste because likes this subject way too much for you to taint it with your idiocy.

“Deliver your end of the bargain. Then you’ll have mine.”

Your eyes twinkle with glee at his semi-approval. “We have a deal then.” 

You go back to where you’re seated a while ago and proceed to start discussing at hand.

--

With the start of the game season, training has become more intense. Coach Mira had the team work on the weak points she identified with the help of  the data you tallied from last season’s games.

“Kyoutani! Do not lower those arms just yet. Keep those elbows up when you block,” Coach yells at him, as Kogane spiked from the other side of the court.

She looks over at the other players practicing their jump serves. She furrows her brows at something. Following her line of sight, you see that it falls on Tsukishima. 

On his next serve, the ball spins ferociously but is of low height that it hits the middle of the night. 

“Y/n,” Coach calls out. She didn’t have to say anything else as she cocks her head to Tsukishima’s direction with a telling expression on her face. She’s asking you to handle him, and you know exactly why. 

Before he can toss the ball for another jump serve, you yell out merrily which you know will definitely catch his ears, “ Tsukki!! ” and jog to where he is. His blank expression turns into a scowl when you reach him. 

“Can you stop calling me that?”

“You’re so mean. Aren’t we close enough for me to call you ‘ Tsukki ’?.” You ask with a dramatic pout and exaggerated false woes that he visibly cringes after hearing it. 

He doesn’t respond to your pretentious act. “Why are you here?”

You instantly lose the cheeky act and get to what Coach Mira wants to let him know. You’re just going to twist the words a bit to his ‘liking.’ 

This is the problem you noticed with Tsukishima, one worse than his rotten way of interacting with the team. He can be incredibly unmotivated at times, and when he is, he only gives the bare minimum amount of effort. 

It’s the one thing you can say you truly dislike about him because he’s a professional athlete for crying out loud. It doesn’t matter if he’s unmotivated, uninspired, or doesn’t feel like trying. He should be disciplined enough to push himself to put as much work as he usually does when training.

“You’re not going to get those serves in with that half-assed attitude of yours,” you say sternly while you eye him with a threatening stare. 

His face scrunches in utter displeasure. He’s well aware that he’s not feeling his best today and he’d rather do blocking drills for the whole raining than do ten consecutive jump serves. 

“Since enthusiasm is the answer to everything else, why don’t you try it?” He bites back, which you obviously weren’t expecting. He’s always irritated when you point out his mistakes, but thus far he has always stayed silent. 

Maybe the amount of time you’re spending together outside the gymnasium has made him reach the limit of his patience… which isn’t even a lot to begin with.

“Are you serious?” you ask incredulously.

Of course he wasn’t. You might have some sort of experience with volleyball (although he doesn’t know to which extent), but jump serves are difficult. The coordination of the toss and the run up to hit it at the right angle is aggravatingly hard to pull off, especially for him since jump serves need tons of practice.

He detests the practice for it; he needs to run, jump, and swing his arm over and over. It is boring and tiring for him because it is purely based on physical prowess, compared to practicing blocking where he’s actually thinking. 

He thought you’d leave him alone when you stepped away. Instead, you come back with a ball in your hand. You dribble it off the floor with unbendable focus as if you’re trying to recall something.

“Are you serious?” he’s the one who asks this time. He was just fucking around. He didn’t expect you’d actually respond to his provocation.

“Yep,” you answer with your full concentration on the ball in your hand as you spin it vertically. Some of the players notice what you’re up to and briefly stop what they’re doing to watch.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You bat them open with burning determination before you toss the ball. 

Instead of watching the ball, he watches your form. There’s no trace of awkwardness in your movements, almost like you’ve done this frequently before. The three-step approach is nearly perfect as you propel yourself up to jump. 

The sharp sound of the ball hitting your hand causes the rest of the gym to look at you. The ball spins ferociously at a height he’s not sure is sufficient to get over the other side of the court. He wishes it won’t. That would be the second worst thing you could ever do to him, the first one being that certain occurrence he’d rather not think about again. 

You falter on your feet when you descend from your leap but you immediately look up to see if your serve makes it. Everyone else, including him, is on the edge as they watch whether the ball will get in or not.

It roughly scrapes the edge of the net, effectively thwarting its velocity. Still, it bounces off and lands inside the opposing court, causing the rest of the team to cheer you on as the ball hits the floor.

You seem to forget for a short while that you did it to spite him as your face beams with inexplicable joy while his contorts with ire. 

Even if the momentum of the ball was broken, you still managed to get it over - the one thing he hadn’t been able to do from his last eight attempts. Meanwhile, you did it on your first. 

You definitely had a lot of experience in high school. No beginner can manage to do a jump serve like that, even if it was flawed.

‘Shit,’ he silently curses when you face him with a cocky grin disguised as a pleasant one. 

“Who knew that my experience being an outside hitter and captain of my high school team would still be useful as your manager?” you ask as you slowly walk towards him.

He doesn’ expect that your knowledge about the sport came from first-hand experience. He thought you’re manager of another team previously or just a crazy volleyball enthusiast.

You pick up another ball and softly push it against his rib as you look up to him with contempt. “Don’t tell me I can do better than you,” you spur him on with squinted eyes.

He snatches the ball away from your hands and steps back from the serving line. He spins the ball one time and tosses it high. Instead of a three-step approach, he makes it a four to increase his vertical jump. He tosses it high enough and channels all his rage for you at the ball. 

With how high he jumped, the ball easily goes over the net. Its trajectory curves when it crosses over and hits a spot a little bit just beyond the end line.

He clenches his fist at his another failed attempt despite exerting more than necessary effort for that shot. He avoids looking at you for he’d be put in an even worse mood if sees that taunting grin of yours. 

But of course you had to make yourself seen and intentionally go in front of him with an impressed look in your face instead of a condescending one. 

“That was great! Holy shit. It was just a smidge out. Wow.” You applaud him earnestly, and as much as he despises it, it makes him a little less bad about that missed shot. 

“Can you leave me alone now?” He drives you away to fend off the stupid feeling. He’d rather you just walk away and don’t say anything. “Not like that serve mattered,” he mutters in annoyance.

“What are you talking about? It was awesome!” you yell out with your eyes shining with flagrant admiration, which annoyingly strokes his ego. 

“Just a bit less and it would have been in a spot difficult to return,” you remark as you pat his shoulders approvingly before heeding his request to leave and go back to where Coach is. 

“Sorry, Coach. I distracted everyone else,” you scratch your head with an apologetic smile when you return. 

“I’d tell you off, but everyone seems more motivated now, so good work I guess,” she commends you with a satisfactory tone.

“He looks really pissed though,” Coach Mira adds as she glances at the blonde middle blocker.

“More than you know, Coach,” you reply with a wide smile as he serves another ball and gets it in this time. 

--

Prior to your meeting with Tsukishima today, you proposed to finish the project as soon as possible so you can both focus on other other uni subjects on top of training hours. He immediately agreed, which didn’t surprise you because even though it’s not game season, you’re pretty sure he can’t wait to stop having to see you.

The project’s deadline is in three months, but you believe you can finish it in less than two if you meet up at least twice a week to work on it.

It should be okay, given that you both agreed to have a truce of some sort from the usual dynamic of your relationship. You actually think that it’s not going to work out smoothly, but you still suggested it with the hopes of decreasing his animosity towards you. Yes, it’s fun and amusing most of the time, but outside the gym where you’re just a classmate and not his manager, it’s kinda draining to deal with it. 

“Won’t your roommate mind if there’s a stranger in your room?” he asks as he sits down and rummages through his bag. 

“Oh.” You thought he already figured it out because he didn’t ask about it on his first visit. “Didn’t I tell you before? I don’t have a roommate.” 

His eyes immediately go to your bunk bed that you didn’t bother getting replaced because it’s convenient when you’re too tired. You usually just mindlessly throw your stuff at the top bunk for a later clean-up.

“Wanted the whole room to myself,” you add.

“Spoiled, little rich brat, aren’t you?” He really doesn’t have much basis for his statement. He just wants to say something nasty and sneer at you because he wants to get back at how you called him out during training the other day.

When he meets your gaze, you raise an eyebrow at him, reminding him about your agreement while working on the project. He purses his lips to the side and returns to his passive expression without saying anything. You roll your eyes in response.

“Well if being a scholar while working as your manager is being a spoiled rich brat, then by all means. Do consider me one,” you answer before looking back on your screen. 

He would have never thought you were a university scholar. You don’t look like the type. You’re way too carefree and all over the place. He would’ve thought it was a joke, if not for the tiny offended glint he caught when he said you’re a spoiled brat.

That’s exactly the reaction he wants to get from you, yet it didn’t feel satisfactory. On the contrary, it’s making him feel like a prick. He is being one, but he doesn’t expect to feel like one, especially towards you who does nothing but get on his skin. 

Still, hell would freeze over before he apologizes. Instead, he prods on the topic.

“Why would you even work as a manager if you’re already a scholar?”

It doesn’t make sense to him. You don’t need the work if your university fees are already waived. It will just pile on to the academic requirements you will need to maintain. 

Your hand stops scrolling on your mouse as your eyes soften, still  remaining on your laptop. “Cause I love it,” you utter like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

The look in your eyes is instantly replaced by mockery when you lift them to meet his. 

“Someone’s being inquisitive today.”

He gets his headphones out and plugs it to his laptop. He really is curious why you chose you to be their manager, but you just had to be an obnoxious bitch and break the agreement you offered to him just the other day. 

He knows you’re too much of a chaos to actually pull it off, so instead of wasting his energy by being irritated by you for the day, he’d rather pretend you’re not there.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” you say loudly with a wide smile, yet he can see the sincerity of the apology through the slight panic in your orbs. You must have realized he’s had enough of your shit. “My bad. Old habits hard.” You laugh nervously. 

You speak again when he puts down his headphones on the table. “I may have quit the sport, but I still love it. I love taking care of players like you guys who have the same passion for it.”

“Doesn’t seem like it’s worth it,” he comments with unheld honesty. You could have a lot of time off of your hands if you quit being their manager. You don’t even need the job.

You plant your hands on the floor and lean back as your gaze drifts to the photos of the team displayed on your desk.

“You might be right. A marine science student dedicating her time on sports even though she’s not an athlete? It does sound impractical. But,” you revert your eyes back to him as you continue on, “it makes me happy. That alone makes it worth it. Even if I don’t get paid, I’d still do it.”

Your face glows with pride and joy with your last statement, completely undeterred by his earlier cynicism. If anything, you look even more convinced that you’re doing the right thing. 

He can’t tell if he finds it admirable or disturbing. Probably the latter.

“There’s more to life than just sleep, study, and survive, don’t you think?” 

It was a rhetorical question that he would’ve still refuted if someone told him that years ago. Back in his freshman year in high school, he thought overzealous passion was stupid. Unless an individual is some sort of prodigy, it wouldn’t get them anywhere even if they keep trying to death.

Still, he put in a lot of work -- more than he should -- when he was playing in Karasuno. What was just a club became entirely something else for him, which, up until now, he still hasn’t put quite a finger on. 

When he graduated from Karasuno, he wasn’t sure what to do. He wanted to continue playing, but there was a nagging feeling behind his head that he shouldn’t. He thought that that part of his life was already over and while it was good while it lasted, it was time to move one. 

Yet, when he was handed out an application form for the university’s college team, he found himself grabbing the sheet of paper. 

He didn’t have any reason to pursue it beyond high school. He knows he’s good, but he’s not that good. He was at university already. It was time to focus on his future and ignore the itch to hold the ball with five other players on his side of the court.

What’s even more absurd was the next day, he submitted the application form and tried out for the team. He said to himself it wouldn’t hurt to go on playing until he has finally had enough. He’d just ride it out until he got tired of it. 

In his sophomore year, he was scouted by Sendai Frogs and that’s when he knew that the unreasonable passion he has for volleyball is not going to go away. Even now in his graduating semester, he’s still not ready to give it up.

He won’t admit it in your face, but, in a way, he can agree with what you just said. Life is more than just getting by and surviving. That’s the only reason he can think of to justify his choice to continue volleyball: so that he wouldn’t have this constant dissonance that pursuing the sport is a vacuous path he’s treading on. 

“Anyways, back to work now, yeah?”

You smile briefly at him and return to the research you’re tasked to do. He puts his headphones back in his bag and gets back to his own task as well.

He thought all is well and you won’t pester him until you both finish what you’re supposed to accomplish for the day. Unfortunately, he thought wrong. 

You suddenly close your laptop and start whining. 

“Tsukki.”

As usual, he does his best to not acknowledge your existence. 

“Tsukkiii, ” you whine louder. 

For the love of God, you sound the most annoying when you use his nickname. Even though you’ve used it several times now, he’s still not used to it. In fact, he does not believe he will ever get used to it. Shimizu and Yachi not even once called him that, and they were more respectable managers than you are. Sort of. It doesn’t matter that you’re more active and hands on when managing the team.

“Tsuuuk -”

“What?!” You successfully manage to get his eyes off the screen.

“I’m bored,” you pout. 

He glares at you unbelievably. What are you, a five-year-old? 

“And that is my problem, how?” he asks with disdain. 

“Aren’t you getting tired?” you ask back, unfazed by his blatant irritation. But then again, you never are. 

He is getting tired too, but he’d rather drag his brains and eyes out than rest and extend the time he’s going to spend with you. 

“Let’s take a break, please, ” you cry out with pleading eyes. 

“I don’t care what you do. Just leave me out of it.” He puts his attention back on his laptop and looks for the journal article he found significant among the other tabs he opened. 

“I’ll feel guilty if I see you still at it while I goof around,” you admit. 

He really couldn’t care any less. None of what you’re blabbering about is any of his concern. If you keep at it, he’ll just take out his headphones again to drown out your childish whining. 

“I know!” You suddenly perk up. “Let’s review for our quiz,” you suggest eagerly. “We have one tomorrow, right?”

He almost smirks at your suggestion, but he manages to suppress it. He’d rather not let you see that he’s pleasantly amused with your suggestion. 

He didn’t expect that that was your idea of taking a break. He thought you were going to propose something completely absurd like watch stupid videos online because that’s something he could totally see you doing on your free time. 

But yeah, he can definitely use a review. It would be a productive break from the strenuous researching and writing you two have been doing. 

Even though he still hasn’t verbally agreed, you continue on. “To make it interesting, there’s a penalty for every wrong answer.”

He sits up straight, pushing his glasses closer to his face as you successfully gain his full attention. “What penalty?”

Your smile widens when you realize that he’s finally acknowledging your idea of taking a break. 

“Okay, okay.” You rub your hands together in excitement before you clasp them together. “For every wrong answer you get, you need to say something nice about me. And of course vice versa.”

He scowls at the idea. “I prefer the opposite. Get the answer wrong and you get insulted. That sounds more of a punishment.”

You shake your head with your lips pressed into a thin line from disapproval. “Nope. If I get even one wrong answer. I’m sure you’ll get into a litany of rude shit you piled up against me over the years. And I’ll just sit here uncaringly receiving your fury. Does that excite you?”

Hell no. It will infuriate him even more if he throws something at you and you just take it apathetically. But he still doesn’t agree with your initial mechanics. It’s not fair to him.

“No, it doesn’t. But the consequence of a wrong answer is too easy for you.”

You place a palm on your chest and gape at him. “Me? Too easy for me ?” 

You break into a boisterous laugh while still maintaining eye contact with him. He just stares back at you stupefied with no idea what you found so hilarious.

“Tsukishima,” you say after recovering from your disparaging hoots of laughter. “I can think of literally one nice thing about you. Maybe two if I tried hard enough,” you explain with your face still crinkled with the laughter you’re trying hard to contain. 

If you’re trying to provok him to take on your challenge, you definitely succeeding. “Fine,” he hisses. 

Your laughter is completely thwarted when your eyes widen with delight as he succumbs to your plan. 

“Great! Okay, two more rules. One, objective questions only. Two, we can’t say anything that involves Volleyball. For example, you can’t tell me that I’m a great manager, because I’m very much aware of that already, okay?”

His frown only deepens from your conceitedness, only to realize that that’s the only aspect of you he’d consider complimenting you about. 

“But there is nothing else nice about you other than that,” he says without any trace of sarcasm or ridicule, only stating what he considers the truth. 

But you don’t take any offense in his statement. You’re expecting as much. That’s why you added two more rules to push the both of you to take the review seriously.

“Better not get anything wrong then,” you counter easily because it’s as simple as that. It’s a review just for a quiz after all. He shouldn’t be that worried.

“Thirty minutes to review. Then let’s start the quiz?”

You take that he’s fine with it since he closes his laptop and gets his set of notes from his bag.

You get your phone and set a thirty minute timer. You do just as he does and focus on your own notes, skimming over the last two chapters covered during lectures. You concentrate on your learning materials but the alarm sets off after what seemed like ten minutes to you.

You frantically check your phone to see if you put the wrong time, but you didn’t. Thirty minute have indeed passed. 

When you glance at Tsukishima, he’s already looking at you with crossed arms and a self-satisfied smirk. He must have finished before the timer went off. He wouldn’t have that smug expression if not. 

Even though you haven’t fully gone over the last parts of the lesson covered, you can’t help but be enlivened at how competitive he is. He must really hate losing. 

You notice it too with the way he plays volleyball. He might look calm on the surface, but you know he wants to crush his opponents. And right now, that opponent is you. 

His muted excitement affects you. Even though you’re not totally prepared, you’re confident with your own wits. 

“Ladies first, so go ahead, Tsukishima.”

He clicks his tongue, his usual habit when he’s irked with something, but this one was forced to make it appear as if he didn’t like what you said. But you can tell that he doesn’t give a shit about that and he actually can’t wait to ask away just to so you can get it wrong.

Unfortunately for him though, you two are just exchanging questions when your mini game starts. He answers your questions without hesitation and you do just the same since most of his questions are in your own list that’s supposed to be for him.

“What’s the movable membrane found on the eyes of amphibians?” It’s his sixth question that has you racking your brain for the correct answer. When you don’t respond immediately, he sniggers like he’s already won. 

But you do know the answer, or at least the first letter of it. It's the letter N. N-something membrane.

“Nictaling membrane,” you answer unsurely. 

The spread of his wicked smile immediately tells you you’re wrong. “It’s nictating,” he corrects you. 

“Oh come on! I’m just one letter off,” you strongly reason out.

“Yeah, and that would still be marked wrong in the actual quiz,” he refutes.

Damn it. He’s right. That one letter makes a whole lot of difference your professor will definitely not let go.

He places one elbow on the table and rests his chin at the back of his hand, keeping his eyes trained on you as he silently anticipates for you to pay the price of your penalty.

You bite your lip disquietly when you realize the rule you set was a double-edged sword for you can’t also think of anything nice to say about him. There’s that terrible attitude of his which is usually your source of fun, but not exactly something you can call nice. 

You have something in your mind, but your pride won’t let you voice it out. 

He starts tapping the table with his fingers. “You’re wasting both our time, y/n.”

You accept your defeat and tell him anyway. “Fine. I think you’re smarter than me,” you confess. 

You expect him to agree unanimously, but instead he looks at you stupefied, blinking a few times without saying anything. 

“But you’re a scholar,” he remarks. You’re not sure if he just disagreed with you or he’s just putting that fact out in the open. 

“Well, yeah. But I’m just really good at studying and have good time management. You’re actually smart. You’re critical with stuff,” you explain. 

You cheated a bit with your answer since most of your basis is from volleyball games. Although your trip last time is also proof of that. He provided really good input on how you should go about with the project. 

“Okay! Moving on,” you proceed before he can comment further on what you just said and milk it to his benefit.

You ask another question, which he also knows that correct answer to. Originally, you just wanted a fun but effective way of reviewing, but now you kind of want him to get at least one question wrong so you can get even. 

“What do you call the structure the lower vertebrae of anurans is fused into?” he asks another difficult question. 

You rub your palms on your face, your frustration clouding your mind from recalling what it could possibly be. You push your hair back and sigh when you realize that you’re not getting this one either. 

“I don’t know,” you surrender. 

His current expression is the most lively one you’ve ever seen from him outside volleyball games, but it isn't a pleasant one. He looks like a villain whose evil master plan is coming to fruition. 

Maybe you should’ve just agreed with his earlier suggestion to get insulted when you get it incorrectly. You would’ve just sit it out and brush it off afterwards, not make your brain hurt even more from thinking about non-existent good traits from the guy across your table. 

You look around as you desperately try to think of something remotely nice about him.

“Oh,” your eyes meet his right the moment you recall that instance, and form a genuine smile as you remember it once more. 

“It was real nice of you to let me lean on you on the way back to Miyagi last week.”

He removes his elbow from the table and fixes his posture, losing the lax and confident aura he had two questions ago. 

“You would have woken up face down on the bus floor if I didn’t,” he says defensively as if what he did needs that explanation for it to be acceptable. 

You honestly thought he’d rather let you fall flat on the floor. You’re about to ask him back then if he was sure, but you just accepted his angry, yet generous offer which you didn’t expect to come from him.

“I know. I just didn’t think you’d let me rest on your shoulder, so thanks,” you say earnestly, not a trace of your usual cheekiness present. 

“It felt nice and comfortable” you add reservedly. You’ve been wanting to thank him but you didn’t know how to bring it up without being awkward for you’re only used to dealing with grouchy Tsukishima.

It’s only then you realize that despite his palpable dislike towards you, he’s not a complete asshole and still cared enough for your welfare that time.

He remains expressionless with his eyes drifting down to his notes, avoiding your gaze as he does so. “The answer is coccyx, also called urostyle,” he ushers back to the question you got wrong, dismissing what you just divulged, which you’re thankful for because you feel like fidgeting with what just dawned on you.

“My turn again then!” you said too loudly as you try to shake off the feeling and put your focus back on the review.

You read the only item left in your list, still hoping that he gets it wrong since this is the last. 

“What part of the amphibian nervous system regulates heart and respiratory rates?”

Unlike previous questions, he doesn’t answer off the bat this time.

“You’re wasting both our time, Tsukishima,” you repeat what he said to you earlier even though it's only been seconds after you uttered your question. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I know the answer,” he declares with reassured confidence. “It’s the cerebrum.”

You decide to hold his gaze for two second before you burst his bubble. “Fucking finally!” you rejoice in his defeat. 

“Close enough, Tsukishima. It’s the cerebellum,” you announce all too cheerfully.

He hurriedly gets his notes and cross checks if you’re actually telling the truth. You just watch him scramble with a very pleased smile on your face as he goes rigid. 

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself. He must have seen that you were telling the truth.

You start squirming in your seat. Oh man, you’re way too excited to hear what he has to say about you. You want to egg him on, to tell him to hurry up but that might affect what he’s going to say so you force yourself to shut up. 

He raises his gaze at you while you make sure you’re not smiling too wide to annoy him even though you’re reeling from anticipation. 

He still doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s thinking based on the way he’s studying your face. 

“You have a slightly above average face.”

You run that by again in your head, not understanding what he meant by it at first. 

Above average face? Did he just say you’re pretty if translated from a socially incapacitated person’s language? Is that why he was staring so hard at you?

Of all the things he could choose to say something about, he decides to compliment your appearance? You know that you're a bit good-looking, but you don’t think he notices it. He doesn’t seem to be the type to care about that stuff.

Even when you first met, he just looked at you with a vacant expression and greeted you blandly out of courtesy while the rest of the team ogled at you. His apathetic eyes eventually turned scornful over time because of how often you pick on him, and despite that, he does acknowledge that you are pretty.

You’re used to being showered with admiration because of your face so you’ve developed a natural response to it: a gleeful smile with a spritely ‘aww, thanks!’

But with Tsukishima, it doesn’t kick in. Instead, you avert your gaze away from the unwanted fluttering in your chest. You can’t even look him in the eye as you try to collect yourself and think how you’ll respond to that without looking flustered. 

What the heck is wrong with you? That could hardly be called a compliment. Now that you think about it, it actually sounded sort of like a product review with its lack of any fondness. 

With that in mind, you manage to regain some of your composure and offer him a faint. “Um, thanks.”  

Tsukishima looks at his two remaining questions he listed and even though he’s winning the game, he doesn’t feel victorious at all. Your confessions did nothing to make him feel good about himself. They were too sincere that they made him uneasy.

He also doesn’t like that he had to admit you’re pretty. He expected you’re gonna make a fuss about it. He actually would’ve preferred that than you being uncharacteristically embarrassed about it.

Something weird is definitely going on. You’re not acting like yourself and neither is he. There had been too many opportunities to badger you, but he just let them pass by. Same with you. You could have easily teased him about letting you know he finds you attractive.

“I’m out of questions,” he lies to end the damn review. 

“Me too, actually,” you say with an apprehensive laugh.

So it’s not just him. You also feel the change in the atmosphere between you two. Your smile is uncertain and you look like you don't know what to do to remedy the situation -- that is, if you even know what’s wrong with it because he sure as hell doesn’t. 

But even if he has no idea what’s going on, fortunately, he knows how to end it.

“I’m tired. I’m calling it a day,” he says as he starts packing up his stuff. 

You seem to agree since you don’t say anything and just watch him collect his things. You only react when he stands up. 

“Oh yeah. Sure!” You stand up as well.

“I can see my way out on my own,” he stops you when you start to head for the door.  

You freeze on the spot then nod timidly. “Okay.”

As soon as he steps out and closes the door, you plop yourself back to where you were sitting. You grasp the edges of your table as you softly bang your head against it, gasping a heavy breath of relief when the air becomes undoubtedly lighter after he is gone.

“What the fuck was that?” you mumble with your cheek against the wooden surface. 

Part 2 || Part 4 || masterlist

taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)

@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai  @babythotshq @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu  @expectonothinfromme @mitzuya @yamigoop​

[wizkiddx]

...surprise

um okay so here I am trying angst again. this is kind of intended to be open ended bcos might have a part two at some point. im also lazy and has a few time jumps. also if someone could pls explain if you just get pics for the top of these off internet or credit on like gifs or something that’d be appreciated.

Summary: Tom comes home and everything is most definitely not the way he left, nor is it healthy

Warnings: please read with caution esp relationship with food / weightloss, but just generally a person in a bad bad head space, lots of self blame - then next parts will carry different warnings too

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

Tom had been away for months. Months and months away from his girlfriend, separated entirely by his filming locations in Europe and America; while you were busy slowly and steadily climbing the ranks of your law firm. Being an intense period for the pair, you hadn’t managed to see each other in 2 and a half months.  Of course, both go you were used to this - 3 years deep into a relationship between an actor and a wanna-be lawyer- this was the name of the game.

But honestly? You both just kept falling deeper and deeper, making the separation harder to deal with - rather than getting used to it as one might hope.

That's why Tom felt such an incredibly overwhelming wave of relief as he dumped his bags just outside his front door. Even though he was exhausted from the travelling, just the mere act of finally phishing out his housekeys brought a massive grin to his face - caused particularly by the sight of his tacky little keyring from a Moroccan market that you’d bought him. That had been your first holiday. There’s that old saying that before you move in with someone go on holiday first - Tom understood it to mean you supposedly see all the bad and ugly stuff people can hide from each other, a prewiring before committing to living in the same space. However that holiday all he’d learned was incredible you are to him. To his dying day, Tom will never forget the moment he looked over to his left when the two of you were on this night time stargaze in the depth of the Moroccan desert. Y/n had never seen stars like it, the skies so incredibly clear and lit up with an array of magical blues and purples and whites on its sark background. The sight, for no unexplainable reason, had you completely opening up to Tom about things she’d never told a single soul. And in that moment he’d had this sort of realisation. Not about how much he loved her - because that is just the cliche thing everyone says… and also just wasn’t true.

In that moment he’d rather realised the potential. The sort of ‘I’m not there yet but I know you could become the centre of my universe’. The sort of ‘I’m not ready to say this yet, but I want to spend my life with you’. The sort of ‘at some point in my life I’m not sure my heart will be able to beat without yours’.

He still hadn’t quite got to explicitly saying all that yet, by asking you for the ultimate commitment. But he planned to now he was coming back to you.

Even with the chill of the early evening winter air, Tom was almost ecstatic as he unlocked the door and let himself in. He hadn’t told you that he was coming home, you thought he had another two weeks on the job, but Tom was a bit of an old romantic - he loved seeing your eyes fill with wonder as he surprised you in whatever way. Sometimes it was as simple as a note on the fridge, or a small bouquet from behind his back or as fancy as a surprise holiday.

However, this time, though it was only 6 in the evening, all the lights of their house were off making Tom raise an eyebrow as he quietly slipped off his shoes - not wanting to scare Y/n just in case.

Tom had sworn when he’d been on the phone with you the previous day, you didn’t have any plans tonight but perhaps maybe a spontaneous pub trip and been offered with work colleagues. The house felt a little cold as he padded through it, poking his head into every room just to check Y/n wasn’t there. His last port of call was the bedroom.

By this point, Tom was pretty resigned on the fact you were out and he’d maybe cook a meal for when you got back or hide about the house or something. But instead, when he poked his head around this door, he sighed in delight at the sight of a still mound under the plush white sheets. For a brief moment, Tom paused, before tiptoeing steadily round to her bedside. The light was still off but the hallway light illuminated the room enough so he could make out your soft features and the messy ball of hair that had been haphazardly thrown in a bun. Furthermore, he could also notice in the light the packet of painkillers and migraine tablets lying opened on the bedside - which made him freeze. Y/n didn’t get migraines often at all, but when she did Tom knew just how bad they could be. That explained the fact you were spark out at six o’clock, making Tom give a sympathetic smile. He crept back out the room with a little spring in his step, deciding that since he had had a long day travelling he'd grab a snack and join you. Unfortunately though, when he enthusiastically yanked the fridge open the sight was a rather depressing one. He didn’t really know what he was craving but the fridge contents were of almost no use to anyone. The place was bloody baron, apart from a tub of butter and of course his special beers that Y/n would never dare touch. With a small huff though, Tom resigned himself to some bread and butter, before getting ready for bed.

It was probably an hour later when Tom was carefully crawling under the duvet to settle in beside Y/n after the disappointing snack and maybe a solitary ‘welcome home beer’ - it would be rude not to. God was he excited to just have his girlfriend in his arms again though. So, Tom naturally reached over and powerfully yet gently pulled you back towards him - making your back flush with his as you mumbled something incoherent. Chuckling slightly at your apparent annoyance of being disturbed, Tom pressed a kiss to her temple before settling down momentarily.

But something wasn’t quite right, making Tom shuffle about a bit - ever adjusting huis grasp on your waist as he attempted to get comfy. With the migraine medications forcing you into a deep deep sleep you barely stirred and that just made the unease increase for Tom. Because you didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel right. Ever so slowly Tom started to peel back the duvet from your body from his now sitting upright position. Typically, Y/n was wearing one of his hoodies, however more concerningly it seemed to pool and collect around your frame more than normal.

Now, Y/n was never the most petite person in the world - by no means overweight, instead of beautiful curves and muscle. To Tom now though, it was as if someone had literally shrunk you - like a picture on a word document you needed to make narrower to fit the margins. Even in the dim light of the bedroom he know realised you looked pale. Honestly, Tom didn’t know how long he just sat there staring at you, until you sighed a little and pulled the duvet back up to just under your chin.

He didn’t know what to think or do. All he knew was you didn’t look well and that you hadn’t said a thing to him. Feeling so very uncomfortable within himself, Tom climbed out the bed and simultaneously grabbed his phone. He knew he had to call someone, to check that you hadn’t been ill - but then who to call? Someone that wouldn’t judge or instantly worry- your mum was completely off the cards. Also, he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yet, so really he knew there was only a couple of options who were close enough to him too.

“Hey what’s up?” “Um nothing much, back in the UK though so-“ “Oh shit really! Kept that one quite bro” “Yeh well came back to surprise Y/n” “Oh you're soooo whipped” “Fuck off Haz, have you um… have you seen her recently anyway?” “You're asking me if I’ve seen your girl while you’ve been away?” “I’m being serious. You’re pretty much brother and sister and I’m -I’m a bit worried.” “What? You know she wouldn’t cheat especially with me” Haz’s tone turned less serious, using a goofy accent “ I know too much.” Haz still attempted to lighten the mood, this conversation very unexpected and making him grow more and more concerned himself. “Haz quit it. I’m worried she’s been ill. I’ve come in and she’s asleep with a migraine but there’s no food in the fridge and she’s skinny as hell.” “Fuck er sorry I didn’t realise. But um no she’s been cancelling on us for the past like two weeks cos like…I don’t know said she was just snowed under at the firm so” “But before then?” “No yeh she was fine. Went to the pub a couple times and she always drove so didn’t drink but nothing weird - think she wanted to keep a clear head. What are you thinking?” “I don’t know to be honest mate. She seemed fine on the phone but I swear to god she looks half the size  of what she was when I left.” “Just talk to her in the morning? She probably is just stressed if work has been mad busy.” Tom hummed in agreement, half trying to convince himself too. “Yeh yeh, sorry for bothering you.” “Oh shut up mate - I’ll see you both at your parents for the roast tomorrow? Sams got some new recipe I think, he’s been wittering on about it for days.” “Yeh we’ll be there, see you then mate.” 

After signing off to Haz, Tom placed his phone on the little table on the upstairs hallway and sighed. He knew he was being over-protective but he couldn’t help it. Y/n was always the one to care for him, in fact to care for everybody int he room and then some.

He’d get to the bottom of whatever this was tomorrow, and so the rest of the evening Tom spent rather unhappily get ready before bed yet again before climbing back in next to you.

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

Tom woke before you, a combination of jet lag and the worry in the pit of his stomach meaning he stirred awake first. Instinctively he pulled you closer and nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck as he slowly began to wake up properly - shrugging off the grogginess. Tom was still really excited for you to realise he was back, predicting you  to excitedly hug him ever so tight and then spend the morning between the sheets. He knew you found the distance tough, especially when all your closest friends were coupled off, it meant you just didn’t have ‘your person’. It was almost as if you were single again and instead of pining over an ex, hopelessly and completely in love with someone across the globe. But that just made your time together even more invaluable and precious.

So even with his slight unease at your slimmer silhouette, Tom didn't have any control over the loopy grin that came to his face as you started to stir and mumble something incoherent, all the while (and subconsciously) inching closer towards him. By the slight fluttering under your eyelid, Tom knew you were waking up and so took the moment to tuck your frizzy bed hair behind your ear. Sighing contently Y/n’s eyes fluttered completely open and Tom met your gaze with the most gently of smiles.

However, he then watched moment by moment as your expression morphed for one of peacefulness and content, through confusion, and ending at pure terror. He had barely thought of asking you why, before you yelped, throwing yourself up into a sitting position and backing as far away on the bed as you could from Tom. “TOM... I-you can’t be here! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” “Y/n hey what’s wrong-“ “GET OUT! G-GET THE FUCK OUT! YOU CAN’T BE HERE” you  yanked the bedsheets to completely cover your huddled up body, as if trying to protect yourself. At this point, tears were streaming down your face and what truly terrified Tom was the expression of horror in your eyes. He threw his hands in the air and unsteadily stumbled to his feet. “O-okay I’m-“ “GET OUT!!! YOU CAN'T SEE ME GET OUT!” Completely bemused and shocked, Tom just nodded jerkily -already halfway out the door and accidentally slamming it in haste.

He had absolutely zero clue what that was about. But what he knew for a fact? He’d never ever seen you like that… you looked so completely terrified… of him? Tom couldn’t for the life of him work out what the hell was going on, as he paced from the shut door to the hallway wall and back again, running his hand through his hair throughout. He could hear you sobbing and whisper yelling - presumably at yourself. It felt as though his heart was being torn out, seeing you that upset and it appearing as his fault? He was acting on pure instinct and adrenalin because your pain hurt him too. He had no control of the physiological response in his body, making his hands shake and breathing increase in speed as it inversely got shallower too.

And so he took a short inhalation, biting his bottom lip as he knocked on the door. “Y/n?….” He got no response after waiting a couple of seconds so tried again - because he could hear you trying to stifle your sobs. After another two failed attempts he opted for a different approach. “Y/n… I’m worried about you… look, I know your upset right now but I need you to let me know your okay… or I’ll have to come in and…and I don’t want to spook you” “Don’t come in.” It was a sharp reply, with a voice that was cracked and clearly trying to keep It together. “Okay… I-I’m sorry if my surprise of coming home was a dumb idea…I-I’ve missed you.” Tom tried speaking softly, as he knelt down and sat with this back against the wall while nervously fiddling with his watch strap that he’d forgot to take off last night. Again he waited for a response but got nothing, again having to warn you he needed to know you were okay. He heard movements from the other side of the door, making him turn his head to the left, pressing his ear on the cool gloss paint. “I-I’m sorry” You barely were whispering, but Tom could sense you were now sitting in a position mirroring his “You don’t meed to apologise love” Returning her tone, Tom sighed at the end - trying to get his brain to process what was going on.

Y/n wasn’t one to overreact and Tom could count on one hand the number of serious fights they’d had in the three year romance. And even then, he was the one to raise his voice - when she argued it was more reasoned, slow and controlled. Actually it was one of the things that in those moments infuriated him even more - you were just so level headed and sensible. Scratch that, sensible purely in this context - everywhere else you were just as loopy as him. So this situation felt so very alien. He didn’t know how to help you and he bloody hated feeling useless.

After a few moments, you replied to apologise once again, for shouting specifically,  and Tom nodded - not that you could see. But that was one of the things Y/n had taught him, sometimes you just have accept things - no matter the context. Accept he wasn’t actually a superhero and couldn’t do everything, accept that sometimes he could be a dick and out of line or accept an apology.

“Can you.. can you try and tell me why your upset? I want to help.” He was trying to be gentle, non-confrontational. But he knew something was so wrong. He needed to know so he could try and help out. “I…”Y/n began, but quickly trailed off, as if trying to formulate the words properly. “I’ve just been ill and” again another pause “and I haven’t been looking after myself very well. I just planned to be umm- to be better when you got back.”

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t really the truth either, at least not the whole truth. But it wasn’t a lie.

“I’m not sure I understand why your so worried about what I think though?” Tom inquired, as he started to fiddle with the door handle in his left hand - as if easing the idea of coming into his girlfriend without scaring you. In reply, you sighed again trying to put the words together without explicitly spelling it out to him. “I don’t- I thought you’d just be disappointed or-or think I’m reliant on you. I’m not and I can handle myself I just…. I don’t know.” “I love you, you idiot.”Tom chuckled at that, while standing up. “Can I come in now please? I promise I’m not disappointed just want to help you feel better.”

The door opened and no sooner could Tom take a step forward than Y/n ran into his chest, wrapping herself tightly around him in apology. He knew that he didn’t have the full story but really didn’t want to push her, more preferring to just love her. So that’s what they spent the rest of the morning doing, in their pyjamas and watching TV. Quite obviously, she wasn’t really making a lot of conversation, Tom filled some gaps with talking about filming - to which she’d hum in agreement or chuckle along. But for the most part Y/n was concentrating on something else.

The all-consuming guilt. That was what was eating away at her.

part 2?

[2manyfandoms2count]

I love you (not) - Chapter 3

@marichatmay's prompt for today was "dirt", which legally requires Chat to eat dirt, right? Anyway, that happens. His brain is a little distracted, you see. Hope you enjoy!

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

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Chapter 3: In which the universe might not be working against Chat breaking up with Marinette, but the author sure is

This has gone too far , Chat thought as he marched determinedly towards Marinette’s skylight. However fun lunch at her parents, and then their little movie hangout had been, he couldn’t let this… “relationship” go any further. His speech had been stalled enough, by a whole week and a half, and not entirely because of him; sure, he’d procrastinated it a little, but Nathalie and her zeal for filling his schedule were the main culprits, as well as a couple of ill-timed Akumas and last-minute Kitty section band practises. It was like the universe didn’t want their budding romance to end.

He pushed the thought aside. There was no romance between him and Marinette, or at least, not on his side. Which is why he needed to talk to her: he needed to prevent her from getting too invested in their relationship. She’d only end up getting hurt, and he would never forgive himself for it.

But what if she gets upset now ? A little voice piped up in his head. He came to a halt, and traced back his steps. Then you’ll be there to protect her from the butterflies , the reasonable part of his brain chimed in . He turned around and started walking again.

But what if that doesn’t work? Will you be able to fight with the knowledge that it was all your fault? The first voice nagged again. Yes, since I’ll be able to fix it. Ladybug and I will do what we usually do and save her.

He paced the balcony as the figurative angel and demon bickered on his shoulder, both making fairly good points as to why he should or should not break up with her.

It’s not a real relationship, just ghost her, she knows you have other stuff to do.

That wouldn’t be right and you know it.

What if this is a bad time, though?

But what if this is a good time?

His dilemma was so loud that he didn’t think about what it might have sounded like for Marinette, if she was in her room. His indecision was getting so infuriating that he stopped looking where he walked. Why was this so difficult?

What if you stopped being stupid and realised that you actually like her? The thought blindsided him, and not just because he could have sworn that it had been formulated in Plagg's voice. It caused him to miscalculate his next step, and before he knew it he was tripping on a potted plant.

Both him and it came crashing down with a loud thunk and a yelp, and he realised with horror, as he scrambled to his feet, that the plant it had contained not only had its roots out, but that it had landed right under him, and didn’t look too healthy.

“Crap…” He shot up and tried to repair his mistake, but soon realised the pot had broken in its fall.

He looked around him to see if there was a spare pot lying around, but failing to spot one, changed his strategy. He started pushing the earth into a neat pile to cover the roots and also to make sure the balcony didn’t look too messy. He wondered if there was a flower shop, or any shop where he could buy a replacement container nearby, and if maybe he could just pop out before anybody noticed, what on earth could he even do with all this-

“Chat Noir? What are you doing here?” Marinette had cautiously peeked out of her skylight when she’d heard the commotion, anticipating an Akuma and trying to figure out what to do if there was indeed one, and had pushed it all the way open when she’d realised who it was who’d been lurking on her roof.

Chat Noir panicked as he heard her voice, and did the only logical thing that came to his mind to get rid of the mess: he took the handful of earth he was holding, and shoved it in his mouth.

“No, Chat!!” Marinette voiced the thought that his brain deigned to formulate just as he tasted the dirt. His eyes widened and he spat it out, barely registering Marinette hopping out of her room and coming to pat him on the back to help him. “What on Earth were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” he wheezed.

“Hang on, I’ll get you some water.” She disappeared through the trapdoor and was back before he could put his escape plan to action. It was just too embarrassing to stay.

He gargled the contents of the glass and spat it out, wincing at the... green taste that remained. There was no better adjective for it. He supposed it was well deserved.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking at his feet sheepishly.

“For what?” Marinette asked, before her eyes landed on the plant. The lack of pot and her frantic attempts to help him had destabilised it, and it lied horizontally again. The colour drained from her cheeks. “Oh. Uncle Wang’s Magnolia.”

Chat winced at her worried expression. “Can I do anything to help?”

“I think I might have a pot downstairs that I can replace it with. I just need to be discreet, if Maman finds out that it survived its journey from Shanghai, but that it couldn’t survive a day on my balcony…” Marinette nervously chewed on her bottom lip.

“She’d be rightfully annoyed.” Chat nodded. He felt his guilt pink his cheeks.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do…”

Chat Noir wasn’t sure involving him in a plan was a great idea after the mess he’d made, but he followed Marinette’s instructions nonetheless, anxious to repair his mistake.

“There.” Marinette rubbed the dirt off of her hands when they were done with a satisfied smile. There was still tension in her shoulders, though. “I think I might have to hide it a little for the next week or so, just so she doesn’t notice the wilted leaves, but it should be okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” She relaxed a little as she saw his pleading eyes. “Anyway, you literally preferred to eat dirt rather than answer my questions, what brings you here?”

“Oh, erm, I needed to talk to you about, well, erm… us.” Chat twiddled his thumbs awkwardly.

Marinette froze. She’d looked out for Chat Noir during the days after their “date”, and had been relieved not to see him around. She’d prodded the topic slightly as Ladybug, and given his lack of response, she’d concluded that Chat had given up on their relationship, and had filed the whole ordeal in a “we’ll laugh about it someday” part of her brain. She’d thought that the next time she’d see him as a civilian, they’d be back to normal. She realised that she might have been a little too prompt in moving on.

Chat noticed his friend tense up again, and decided he couldn’t go through with his plan. Hey, I came to tell you that I don’t love you and that I’m breaking up with you - and by the way, I almost killed a plant that came from half a world away. Bye! Really didn’t sound so great.

“Us?” Marinette prompted.

“Yeah, us.” Chat shook away his thoughts. “I, er… Realised that I haven’t been in touch much recently, and I wanted to apologise.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been really busy too, so, I understand.” Marinette smiled sweetly. It did sound like her kitty to not ghost a girl, and maybe this was the moment he would give her a little speech about how packed his superhero life was, and that he preferred not to keep her waiting and-

“Maybe we could get coffee sometime soon?” Chat blurted.

“Coffee?” She tilted her head, her smile tensing a little. What are you up to? The exit was right there!

“If you like coffee? Tea’s perfectly fine, too, or hot chocolate. Or a coke, or anything. My treat.” He patted her shoulder. Why do I sound so awkward? he cringed inside.

“I guess that would be nice.” Marinette blinked a couple of times. “Shall we set a date now, or…”

“Yes! A date! That’s it! The day after tomorrow? 5pm?” I need to calm down, Chat smiled tightly.

“That works for me.” Marinette eyed her partner cautiously. He seemed overly excited. Had there been something in the earth? Should she call some kind of medical service? “Did you have a place in mind?...”

Chat Noir paused. He didn’t go out enough to be able to recommend a café off the top of his head.

Marinette saw his hesitation, decided he was probably more flustered than poisoned, and decided she should probably help him out with his invitation. “I heard le café des chats was quite cute, it’s not too far away… If you’re not allergic to cats.” She added with a twinkle in her eye.

“That sounds purr-fect!” Chat grinned. “Right, so now that we’ve got that settled, I guess I should go.”

“I guess so.” Marinette smiled. “See you soon, then?”

“Yep, later, Princess! And sorry again about the Magnolia.”

She waved his concern away and then leaned on her balcony railing to watch him vault away. Her smile fell when he’d disappeared from her sight, and she realised what she’d just agreed to.

A real date. In a café. With Chat Noir.

This is going too far, she thought as she hid her face in her hands.

[thelittlestcheshire]

Self Para 008: I Don’t Pretend to Know the Challenges You’re Facing Word Count: 2024 words When: July 2020, in the early hours of July 19th during Ches’s birthday trip Note: I decided I’m going to queue up and post one of the old self paras I never posted, Feel free to skip it, since it’s a past event and stuff. TWs: Rape (mentioned / discussed), Anxiety Attacks, Alcoholism / Drinking, Hangovers, Vomitting, Death, suicide (not exactly but there’s a definite apathy towards the idea of death this as well so better safe than sorry), murder (her mother)

There was a loud thud as a purse landed on the suite’s floor as Ches stumbled through the front door. She knew she shouldn’t have gone to galaxy edge before closing for drinks, but she was desperate to feel good. Yet, no matter how much she drank today, she didn’t feel the happiness that tended to run through her veins. She felt worse and worse. Even the sight of the balloons in the living room from Emmett and his girlfriend didn’t bring any sort of joy.

It was her fault her mother died; she should have been here instead of Ches. And the more gifts she received, the more she thought back to why her mother was dead. If she hadn’t gone to get gifts for Jonah... it felt like the room was spinning as the thought came back. Wait, no, the room was definitely spinning.

“Hey Ches, sorry I needed to- fuck.” Zander had just come out from the living room, likely taking her up on his offer to hide, but his attempt to avoid people is forgotten by the time he reaches her. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” There were two of him by the time he wraps an arm around her to support her. “It’s been a long night.” He starts to lead her to her bedroom, and it’s hard to keep her feet under her as they walk. But he saves her from crashing to the floor and manages to get her on the bed.

“It wasn’t a night.” She slurs at him as she rests her head against her pillow. “Sky and I, you know. Club 33.” She knew the look on his faces even through the intoxicated haze. She knew he wasn’t happy about this. “I’m okay.” She informs him, starting to sit up. The room begins to move again, and for a moment, she feels like she might just be sick. She moves quickly, barely making it to the toilet before she vomits. Zander quickly behind her to hold back her hair. “See, fine.” She gets out weakly as she flushes the toilet.

“Definitely not fine.” He disagrees as he smooths out her hair. “I’m staying with you tonight, at least until you feel better.” It’s obvious she had no say in the matter, and she doesn’t waste the energy to protest. She slowly gets up, nearly falling face-first as she attempts to reach the bathroom sink to brush her teeth. He’s there in an instant to keep her from tumbling. Perhaps he had a point. She accepts the assistance as she brushes her teeth and doesn’t fight him as he leads her back to the bed and messes with all her pillows to ensure she’s propped up on her side.

“I hate you.”  

The words just slip off her tongue. Not how she genuinely felt in the slightest. Zander doesn’t seem to take offense. However, he just runs his fingers through her hair. “I know, I know. I’m the worst. Time for you to sleep.” He whispers back to her. She frowns, but she shuts her eyes, anyway. She’s not sure how long it takes: perhaps it’s minutes, maybe it was hours, but eventually she falls asleep.

—

Opening her eyes felt like literally crawling out of a grave when she finally does wake up, the only light shining was from a phone beside her. “Turn that damn thing off. It hurts,” Ches grumbles, the man beside her laying on top of her blankets complies. “What time is it anyway?”

“4 am, give or take.”

Zander’s answer only causes her to groan as she fixes her pillows the way she likes them. “Shit. No wonder I feel like I was run over by a freight train.” She continues to adjust her pillows, settling into a comfortable spot as she rolls over onto her back.

“No, I think that’s thanks to Club 33.” Zander gives her a pointed look. How did he even know she’d gone drinking there? That she had a membership at all for that matter. “I could pay for the entirety of my college tuition with how much you’ve spent on this trip. Couldn’t I?” There was something about his tone that feels off, that despite his words, it wasn’t the Disneyland trip he was frustrated with at the moment. “You’re spiraling again. The fancy trip, the mass text about Leo, the drinking. Fuck, everything that’s occurred since you came back to Luxor. Spring break, prom, open house. What’s going on?” Of course, he’d notice things weren’t right. Her luck couldn’t get any worse, could it?

“It’s the tenth anniversary of my mother’s death.” The excuse slides off her tongue quickly. But even in the dark, she could make out the look on his face. He knew she was lying, and yet she didn’t change her tune. She couldn’t. After what happened with Lucy, she wasn’t going to tell anyone about that ever again. “Zander, that’s all there is to everything. Drop it.”

He opens his mouth as if he had something to say, but he quickly shuts up. After a few seconds where it looks like he’s not going to push, she takes a breath. But her relief is short-lived when he finally speaks. “Has anyone ever mentioned you crinkle your nose when you lie?”

“I do not!” She protests immediately. Did she really have such an obvious tell? “I’m not lying. That’s really all there is to it. Please.” The word sounds like a plea, and as she hears it, she can’t help but dread him picking up on it. She didn’t need to give him more to question when he was already treading into territory she couldn’t stand to think about. How could she discuss it again? She barely got through it with Lucy.

“Okay, I just have one more question then. Why is your father spending so much money on you lately? Taking the entire school to Disneyland, a suite just for you to hide in, him showing up to graduation. Your Club 33 membership cost could be a household’s entire annual salary, There has to be a reason he’s tossing money at you so aggressively.”

The question causes her blood to run cold. What was she supposed to say? That his father suddenly saw the error of his ways became invested in her life. The lie didn’t even seem plausible, let alone believable. The entire truth hurt too much to think about; she didn’t want to get into the reasons. The best she could offer was the truth, without any details. “He feels guilty.”

“About your mom?” Zander’s voice is so soft, and as the slight hint of guilt starts to leak into it, she can feel her heart starting to break. He was too good to her, too safe, and he doesn’t even hesitate as she moves closer to him on the bed and tries to crawl into his arms. As she starts to sob, he just accepts that right now she needed someone to hold her. “I’m sorry, Chessie. I-”

“It’s not about maman, Zan. When I was home I had to attend his dinner parties, and his VP, he-” She can’t even finish getting the words out as she starts to sob, as the panic sets in and she clings tighter to him. The thought of that evening made her wish she could carve off her skin as if it’d erase the memories of that night from her mind. The more she remembers, the harder it feels to gasp for air, and the faster she breathes as her eyes rapidly search for the nearest escape route.

“Ches, hey. It’s okay, you’re okay.” His voice is gentle as he starts stroking her hair again. For a moment, she goes completely still as she tries to remind herself this was Zander. “You’re safe, I promise. Nobody’s going to hurt you here.” She focuses on the sound of his voice as he tries to comfort her, and slowly, but surely, oxygen is easier to catch. The fear was still lingering; the urge to flee and never look back was overwhelming. “You don’t have to say anything, okay.”

“Look where not saying anything got me, Zander.” She snaps at him, the words just coming out suddenly. “He fucking raped me, and I have to- no, I’m expected to just stay quiet and move past it. Sometimes I’m not sure if the money is because my dad is upset it happened or to keep my mouth shut. You know, he was the one who made me drop the charges.” She still could remember that talk with her father. She could shut her eyes and picture it as if it was five minutes ago still, her father pacing around the living room in their penthouse looking almost as disheveled as he had at her mother’s funeral, practically begging her to let him handle this behind closed doors because he didn’t think she’d survive a trial. “Said he thought I’d kill myself if we went to trials, he handled it behind the scenes.”

“It’s out of love, either way, I think,” Zander says gently as if he’s not sure he’s supposed to speak at all. Honestly, Ches isn’t sure she wants him to talk either. The last time she’d discussed it, she hadn’t felt any better. In ways, she felt worse - guilty for burdening Lucy with something so heavy she couldn’t explain to anyone else.

“I know.”

The words are hard for her to get out, even if it’s the truth. She knew that her father loved her, even when it sometimes felt like he didn’t care nearly enough. Perhaps, in its own fucked up way, this was his way of showing he cared. Her father’s actions weren’t out of ill intent.

“I’m sorry that you’re going through this, you had a horrible year.” He wasn’t wrong about that, the more she thought about it, the more she realized seventeen had truly sucked. “But, you can’t destroy yourself in your attempts to cope. I can’t figure out how you got back without hurting yourself. That’s an issue.”

“It’s not a deal-breaker.” As Ches continues to calm down slowly, the realization she’s trembling begins to dawn on her. “I don’t care if I die, you know.”

“Well I do. Lucy and Avery do, and Elliot would be devastated, so that’s not an option, for starters. So this shit needs to stop.” Zander’s voice is firm, almost like when Logan had no other choice but to scold them. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but this isn’t the answer, Hailey.”

For a brief moment, she considers saying something about her first name, but she doesn’t. She was too drained to fight with him over it. The use could be tolerated for one night. “You can’t tell anyone, Zander. The only person who knows is Lucy.” She says instead as she pulls herself out of his arms to lay in bed again.

“And your therapist?”

“Doesn’t know anything either.” She shuts her eyes as she says the word. Of course, she didn’t go to her therapist about this; it felt too painful to revisit, too heavy to bring words to at times. “Just promise me, Zander.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” She can feel him moving on the bed beside her to start to get up as he says the words, her arm quickly reaching out to stop him. “But, I think you need to talk to your therapist. And-”

“Okay.” She agrees. “But, can you stay? I don’t want- I can’t be alone right now. Please?” The boy stops trying to move at her confession, the admittance she needed someone there. “I think being alone is a bad idea, and I don’t think I can ask Elli to-”

“I’ll stay, as long you need me to.”

She doesn’t say anything as she moves her arm back to her side of the bed. For a moment, she wonders if he’ll question it, but soon the only noise is the sound of his phone unlocking as the two settle into a comfortable silence.

[thewritingstar]

Falling Back to You

Pairing: Blossick (Blossom x Brick, Reds)

Fandom: The Powerpuff Girls

Soft, sweet reds because I've been feeling angsty lately and needed a breather lol. Sorry to everyone who follows me for other fandoms, I promise Ill write more for FT (you can always leave asks lol)

Tag List: @over-under-through1 @shellielyzabeth (if you want to be on my tag list, you can find the post or dm me)

I hope you enjoy. This has been sitting in my drafts for a few months and decided to just finish it lol. 

---

“I’m surprised you don’t have your hat on.” A voice came from behind him. But not just any voice. The moment the first word left those lips, the hair on his neck stood up and sent a familiar chill down his back. It was a voice that he knew well, could distinguish in a crowd of a thousand voices, it was the equivalent of his favorite song or the taste of the sweetest thing to melt in your mouth.

“Blossom.” He said under his breath but her super hearing picked it up.

She thought she was prepared to see him, after all its been two years. That’s enough time to heal, right? But she prayed that he didn’t hear the small gasp that escaped her lips as he turned. That crisp dark red suit fit him like a glove and she spotted him from a mile away in that signature color. He looked good in red.

“Hi.” She managed to say smoothly as he took a step towards her. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked with a reluctant tone. It was only the most important night of his life. The one where he would be promoted to the head of the department, the one he busted his ass off from the ground up. Not to mention an award for a case he worked on last year. 

She shrugged and bit her lip. “My boss is here and I have to write a report for him.” Then added. “And I wasn’t going to miss the achievement you have been talking about for literal years.” She said shyly. “I promised after all.” 

And she did. Back when they had dated all those years ago. Blossom was by his side as he worked from being an assistant at the law firm to one of the most promising lawyers, and now the highest ranked lawyer, but she missed the last part. Unfortunately. 

He studied his ass off and she did too, both of them determined to outshine anyone in their paths, maybe that why they chose different companies. They had traded their childhood rivalry for a path of lust and love, a simple competition would not be throwing them down that path. In fact their jobs were the reason they weren’t together.

“You remembered.” He said under his breath. She heard it, of course. 

She tapped her foot and looked around before giving a puzzling look. “Wheres Jasmine?” It pained her to ask. 

Jasmine. Oh yes, his girlfriend who couldn’t be bothered to celebrate to most important time of his career. Or rather, ex girlfriend, As of last night where he found her with another man. 

“Not my girlfriend.” He simply stated as she nodded before taking a sip of her drink. 

It must have been good if she brought it to her lips. Blossom loved a good cocktail but if it was hard liquor, she required top shelf, something he admired. He was like that too and was the reason she only drank the highest quality. 

“What about Tyson?” 

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Not my boyfriend.” She said bitterly and he didn’t know why he was happy about it. “Cheated on me for a blonde.” Her glass was on the verge of cracking before she smoothed out her dress. “Typical.” 

He hummed in agreement. There was a feeling of anger running through him as he thought about any man hurting Blossom, sure he hurt her too but nothing like that. No their fight was different, it was a fight about whats best for both of them. 

They had just under an hour before the cermony started. He didn’t want to bother being inside socailzing with a bunch of random people and he had a feeling she didn’t either. The wide open hallway was becoming stuffy and he could see a trio of men walking their way and knew Blossom would become the talking point. 

Before Brick could turn them the other way, the men were already there. 

“Brick.” The tall one spat. 

“Landon.” Brick matched his tone. What a dumb name he thought. 

Landon turned and did not bother to hide the fact that he was checking out Blossom. Of course he was. Even in her simple black cocktail dress that screamed sophistication, she was a walking dream. 

“And you are?” He gave her a smirk that could charm anyone, expcet for Blossom of course. 

Brick was pracitcally smiling as Blossom shook his hand. He knew she wouldn’t take his bait. 

“Blossom Utonium. Head of corrupt affairs at Duchess Law.” She started with what Brick likes to call her “Miss Business voice”. 

Landon smirked. “Duchess Law? Someones a smart cookie.” He winked. 

The other men behind him agreed and Blossom held her tounge. She hated being patronized or looked down on. He should be thanking the lucky stars that he’s even in her presence.

Brick could tell she was annoyed and wrapped his arm around her waist before looking at Landon. “She makes more money than all three of you combine and actally can win a case so show some repect.” He spat and he turned them around towards the back doors that led to the garden space. 

The feeling of having his arm around her sent a spark through her body. At first it felt foreign but the memories came rolling in waves as they walked.

“I could handle myself.” She stated and he hid his laugh.

“I know, but you won’t because of your repuation. I for one don’t care about mine that much.”

“Or maybe its because you still care.” She teased as she sat on the stone bench with him. 

He was about to response but his phone began to ring. He wanted to ignore it but Blossom probably would say something about it. 

“Its Butch.” He said before trying to put it back into his pocket. 

“You should anwser it. I’m sure he’s wanting to wish his brother well.”

He huffed and anwsered on the final ring. 

“Hello?”

“Hey quick question. Do you think that I would win in a fight against Thanos?” 

Brick only shook his head.

“Butch.”

“Its serious cause Buttercup doesn’t think so but I could take him for sure.” 

Blossom was holding a hand to her mouth as the guy kept going on about the stupid question. 

“Oh shit dude, tonights your night!”

“Yes it is now Imma hang up now.”

“Brick be nice.”

“Wait a minute bro. Is that Miss Blossom with you?”

“Yes because shes the only one who bothered to care.”

“Hey you’re the one who said not to come. Anyways tell her I said hi and that you two should totally get back together because you kept going on and on about how you missed her and leaving her was the worst choice you made-” The line cut dead and the phone was shoved in his pocket. 

“Hes stupid.” He mumbled and Blossom drank the rest of her drink. 

“Hes not wrong.”

He turned towards her and gazed silently. She was just as he remembered. Gorgeous and graceful and even without a word spoken, she could command a room. He admired her greatly and she felt the same. 

“Brick, can we just skip all of it?” She asked softly. 

“I’ve kinda been looking forward to my award.”

“No, not this.” She gestured to the building. “But this.” She pointed between them. 

“Skip what?”

“Oh I don’t know, the drama of it all? Because if we don’t confess now we are going to waste so much time running after each other and I-I dont want to waste time.” She looked down at her shoes. A sad sigh leaving her lips. “I just miss you.” 

The confession surprised him. They were both forward people who never beat around the bush but when it came to their feelings between them, they had always been shy. Boomer and Bubbles were easy to confess and even Butch and Buttercup seemed to have it together but for them, it felt impossible sometimes.

No matter where he turned, she was there. They had always crossed paths like star-crossed lovers and it was as if the universe was constantly pulling them together and they had tried. They really did. 

Perhaps the timing wasn’t enough or their pride had stood in the way. they never meant to fall apart the way they did but when the other side of the bed was empty, those walls they held up became transparent and it only took a mere few seconds to see what they had lost. 

But he understood what she meant. They both knew that if anything were to happen between them tonight it would start a snowball effect that everyone was tired of seeing. Over and over they would fall in line and build each other up before something came between them and pulled them apart. 

He wanted to get past all the hurdles of playing cat and mouse until on of them caved and said their feelings. But her saying she missed him wasn’t her caving, she was just tired and so was he.

They had been young when they had fallen in love. The rules of life tossing them into a sea of doubt but now they were adults who knew the game and could easily avoid anything in their paths, except each other. 

His hand slid over hers. “I missed you too.”

She smiled softly before her hand rested on his cheek. “I’m really proud of you Brick, you’ve come along way.” 

“I’m just happy you got to see it.” He whispered before his lips touched hers with a fire they both had missed. 

A swirl of fire and ice that only they knew. No matter how much life decided to pull them apart or change the course, he would always find himself coming back to her. 

The kiss didn’t last as long as he would have liked but seeing the faint blush on her cheeks made it all worth it. 

“What are you doing later?” He asked as he helped her up from the bench. 

“I was going to get take out and sit in my hotel room watching movies.” 

Brick leaned over to fix the bow in her hair, taking the time to have her close. “I don’t suppose you would accept any company?” He winked before kissing the back of her hand and handing her the red purse.

“I think I can make an exception.” She winked and he had never thought she had looked more stunning. 

She took his hand, their palms resting naturally together, before walking back to the ceremony, where he would leave with not only his award but the woman he had loved for years and years. 

--

was the ending lazy? yes. do I care, only a little bit. Lol. I’ve had a really off day so I hope this is good.

Hope you enjoyed :) 

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket SE02. Ep 14

This is a build up: to the teacher conference & catching up with the aftermath of the beach after hatori/mayu & student council break. Tohru has 5% of of this ep! & not the usual ‘moma tohru/sohma’s savior tohru/ happy tohru/ healing tohru”. NO!! It’s real person with real issues tohru!!! scared lonely teenage tohru!!! celebrating the crumbs thrown to me!!!!!!! XD.

(1) Haru!!! The lighter version of tohru’s kindness:

I was right!! haru was there for yuki!! He was 13/14 years old when he asked shigure to take yuki, putting himself in danger by sneaking few moments to sit with yuki whenever he can. As a kid, he’s done than all the adults. His support comes from genuine concern over yuki. Haru is a lighter & healthier version of tohru’s kindness. He supports yuki & can get in danger but he’s not neglecting himself. he faced his demons early on as a kid & got over his hate which was caused by the adult’s mockery of him. He learned to love/accept himself & found love with rin, he didn’t selflessly sacrifice anything despite her attempts to leave him. He showed selfless kindness towards yuki, kisa, & rin. He still can turn dark but this is part of him being imperfect. Moreover, haru didn’t hold on to yuki, imposing his guidance & his support. he stands in the near distance. I’ll support you but you need to go search for your path yourself. He also understands that yuki can’t do like him & stay around helping haru in his issues with rin cuz (a) romantic issues are mostly exclusive to the ppl involved & interference may cause harm, (b) yuki needs to focus on himself now & not escape into other ppl’s issues like tohru does. He needs to face his future & haru is there to tell him so. Again the writer is telling us yuki will do/choose right even in moments of doubt cuz ppl will be there to support him. This ep, it’s haru ushering him into focusing on his path & resisting the need to escape the pressure. we’ll see others step in for yuki until he can stand on his feet. 

(2) Tohru!!! The abandoned/lonely teenager:

Her only loving relative might soon leave, he’s old & sick. Her mom wasn’t sick nor old. Yet, she left. Tohru’s fear of abandonment intensifies. From the moment she got the phone call, her face screams “Don’t leave me”. teacher conference usually involves parents. It’s supposed to be her mom that’s attending with her. it’s her mom’s dream to get into high school & she would’ve proudly visit the teacher to talk abt tohru’s future. except this time tohru goes with a stranger..not even her grandfather. Shigure genuinely cares for tohru, despite the ulterior motive of seeing Mayu. but he’s still a stranger who doesn’t know her or her future plans. Shigure’ll be present physically with her but she’s all on her own. Kyo saw that when he entered the house. He saw her pain despite the cheerful smile. Guess whose fault that kyoko isn’t here now? kyo. Guess who’s guiltily went to his room & stood there in the dark? kyo. Guess who couldn’t face tohru the next day? kyo.

-”why do they both have to pass away, I want to ge see them”!! Tohru begs her grandfather to stay with her, him suddenly dozing off caused her anxiety attack, it has been building inside her since hiro’s words. “ i want to see him” kyoko said!!! & oh she ended up really going to him..“its okay” it isn’t. “always together” they aren’t. tohru flashback is clearer. Kyoko abandoned tohru somehow around her father’ funeral. For some reason the door is locked literally & metaphorically between tohru & the sense of safety & being wanted!!. It’s too much for her!!. she” do anything, say anything, just don’t TAKE mom away!” alas~ Her mask cracks. Her legs fail. she can’t stand. she falls. she breaks. she’s alone. kyo’s here with her. Present physically & emotionally. Tohru’s angel. Except he’s real. if she reaches out, he won’t disappear. He’s not TAKEN from her (not yet). Tohru smiles genuinely without putting her mask back on. kyo, unlike haru, can’t hug tohru becuz of the curse. He uses head pats instead. lovingly, kindly & tenderly patting her head. “it’s normal to be worried when a relative is ill”, “don’t push yourself” is that like kyo’s 5th advice to tohru now?. “do you plan to sit here forever” carries more than the literal meaning, along with him actually holding her arm & pulling her up! followed by teasing her to ease her back into normality. Now it’s really “okay” for tohru cuz someone who cares is really here with her. present by body & soul. kyo teasing her shifted her focus from painful past into a flirty chat & musings in Arisa’s expense. It’s similar to when tohru helped yuki with his first encounter with akito in school by suggesting playing to cast away the fears. except this time someone is doing this for tohru!!Her struggles are seen despite the mask. she’s not a lonely teenager, she is receiving an emotional well-needed help. however...this is but the tip of the iceberg. tohru hasn’t opened her lid yet. she should or she’ll break down soon..

-The faulty/over usage of the Voice-Over technique:

Usually this tool is used by writers to send messages they believe is hard to catch for readers/viewers or for foreshadowing. It’s done mostly when (a) a character is watching a scene unfold in front of them & they comment internally, or (b) they are narrating a scene/story. However, that’s not the case in this ep. (I’m not talking abt internal monologue, that’s a different case & is totally suitable when character talks abt themselves when the scene only show them & doesn’t switch into a different place entirely). This ep is weirdly stuffed with voice-overs by kagura, yuki, haru & shigure done over multiple scenes & it was poorly done (in my personal opinion) as it caused confusion in the episode’s flow, especially the kagura’s part. Manga/still pictures are different from anime/moving pictures, therefore manga writers feel the need to insert lines said by this or that over another scene to connect what the still image might fail to express. Moreover writers publish monthly & there might be periods of hiatus, so they need to remind readers of certain themes. Anime/shows are totally different medium. The images moves with expressive facials expressions, colors, characters voices, & music to convey a message. How can you have all that & cause confusion? or over saturate a single ep with one tool?

-when kagura's voice is over kyo’s image in school, it shows kyo looking at tohru sadly. i really was confused on why kyo is still sad abt kagura, I didn’t notice tohru walking alone at first, then kyo went home before changing his mind. I kept thinking he’s gone to kagura!! or that he’ll go to Akito cuz kagura’s words expressed guilt?? or he changed his mind & would confess to tohru cuz of kagura’s words of illogical love?? when he didn’t tell tohru where was he heading for the longest time I was confused that he’s hiding sth!! it wasn’t until I watched the ep twice & omitted kagura’s part that I got it!! Why didn’t the show let us hear kyo’s thoughts directly instead of kagura’s confusing voice over?? it’s not like he’ll tell us kyoko’s promise? he’ll express what we already know! that he’s struggling to either let go of tohru or be there for her... why is that hard to express to viewers using kyo? If kyo’s thoughts MUST be blocked, then why NOT use the most effect method for shows/ moving pictures which is Show-Not-Tell???. They’re trying to do that but felt the need to insert kagura’s thoughts over to help us understand??? shame how the result is total confusion & loss of impactful scene for tohru/kyo unless you watch it twice to analyze. It was in my 2nd watch with omitting kagura’s scene that I understood why kyo was off/sad & where was he headed. Very poorly done.

-Yuki’s/Shigure’s/haru’s voice-over didn’t cause confusion but was excessively done in a single ep, Moreover, it carries the feeling of the shows flaw: the need to guide viewers’ thoughts to the door step in certain scenes or leave them without anything in other scenes. Again I’m not talking abt the monologues, I’m talking abt the images of other characters they showed over the voice when others are in discussion. It felt too on the nose for me this time.

Side Notes:

There are some moments in this show, more than other shows, where I feel like I’m reading more than watching or hearing audio book over still images, which is shame since the story itself is superb & the anime has all the tools it needs to express all themes visually. It also adds to the flaw of “imbalanced expression” that this show suffers from sometimes.

 Rin & haru relationship..wow.. I’ll hold on talking abt them until I see more. Haru is a dear fave of mine. I’m sure Rin worth the wait.

Yuki’s Japanese VA is awesome! he’s one of my top 5 VAs in furuba. 

I’m in love with tohru’s crumbs. Feed me more, show! plz.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Hurt, pt. 9

Summary: Y/N learns Ethan never left town.

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, talk of depression, mentions of sex

Word Count: 1700

Hurt - Masterlist

Grayson stood at the door, staring at the note in Y/N's hand, the very note his brother had left for her the day he checked himself into a mental institution. It had been burning a hole in Grayson's pocket for weeks, but he never thought her to be ready to read it. Grayson had been scared for her and the babies, knowing the stress might make her bleed again or get her to the point of a miscarriage. It was enough for him to hide the note, but there was no hiding anymore.

Just one look in her teary eyes was enough to tell she still cared about Ethan. Deeply.

Her hand shook and her lips pressed together to stop them from quivering, but her eyes had been set aflame. Thing is, Grayson wasn't sure if it was his place to say anything. After all, Ethan had kept this under wraps for a pretty good reason even though Grayson wasn't quite on board with his reasoning. Had it been him and Clara, he'd want her by his side during therapy, to hold his hand...and yes, as ashamed as he is of the fact, Grayson would have used his illness as an excuse to mend his relationship.

But Y/N doesn't care about any of it. She doesn't care about his promise to keep Ethan's secret nor about Ethan's heroic selflessness that was meant to preserve their marriage. He would sacrifice everything to keep her happy and to perhaps have a real chance once he's out.

She didn't care. Y/N wanted answers and she wanted honesty. After all the lies, some honesty felt like a breath of fresh air. But her love, her worry, her unbearable hurt was so clear too. Grayson watched her suffer all these months, dissolved in the kind of despair that can take one's mind prisoner and never give it back. But now? He had seen a light inside her flickering, until she sank down to her knees in the middle of the room, feeling her stomach cramping again.

“Grayson!” Clara rushed to her side, shaking as her best friend began to cry, choking on her own sobs.

“Is it the babies?” Clara asked. Y/N had shaken her head, placing a hand on her heart, tapping her chest lightly as if to tell them it’s a different kind of pain – one that never goes away. Not when Ethan isn’t with her.

“Tell us Grayson or I swear I will go psycho on you.” Clara kept her voice leveled, but oddly sharp and threatening. There was no doubt in Grayson’s mind that she could do just that if not worse. Clara has always been a sweetheart, but her dark side is something he feared and he never wanted to see it come to life.

“He, uh…He never left the country.” He swallowed hard, aware this is a betrayal in Ethan’s eyes. However, it was time for him to stop hiding and a time to be honest. If he wants Y/N back, she has to know what she’s dealing with. They have to find a way to communicate…before she finds someone who won’t make her run around in circles for answers she should have gotten a long time ago.

“Ethan checked himself in the psych ward back in the hospital the same night you were taken in for stitches.” Grayson let the truth out, stunning both girls into silence. Clara stared at him in disbelief, her eyes filling with tears. Y/N? She was stone-cold serious, her face hardened as she pushed herself off the bedroom floor and onto her wobbly legs.

“What happened?” Is all she can say without crumbling, Grayson could tell. Her tough girl act didn’t fool him for he still saw raw emotion behind the mask she put on. She’s always had a difficult time dealing with big emotions, pushing them down for a while until she deems it safe to let it all out. Usually, she’d only ever allowed Ethan to see her in such a vulnerable way, but Grayson had seen a glimpse of it too.

“Clinical depression. He’s been depressed for a while now.”

Shaking her head, Y/N bit her lip to stop herself from chuckling in disbelief. Pushing down her emotions usually meant uncharacteristically inappropriate reactions and this was a perfect example.

Walking around Grayson, Y/N had taken her car key and walked straight to her car once again. She felt the strain of stress on her body, she felt herself grow weaker and susceptible to everything Edward told her to avoid if she wanted to keep this pregnancy viable. She wanted to follow the rules and avoid every possible trigger that could harm her or the babies, but she needed to see Ethan. She had to lay her eyes upon him even if it’s for a moment. Only then would she be able to breathe again.

“You know I’m not going to die on this trip, right? I’ll still come home to you, silly.” Ethan booped her nose teasingly, hoping to her a smile for his trouble. Y/N never liked him going to those business trips overseas, especially when he started going alone because Grayson had just gotten married and wanted some time with his wife.

As selfish as it is, she always thought about how much time she ends up losing her soon to be husband. They were dependent on each other, but not in a bad way. For example, Ethan depended on Y/N to wake him up with lazy, morning sex. On the other hand, Y/N depended on Ethan to put her to sleep with wild, mind-blowing sex. It was a win-win and something they had both become way too accustomed to.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t have the right to worry.” But she wouldn’t say it out loud now. They both knew exactly how much they’ll miss each other and the sex was the least of what they’d both so desperately crave.

Ethan loved the way Y/N crinkled her nose when she wanted to seem cute, or the way she’s giggling like a little baby when he’d tap her ass every time he passed by her. Y/N loved how cocky Ethan gets, raising his eyebrow and smirking at her when she wants to deny him something – anything because he knows that she absolutely falls for his cocky attitude every time. She classified it as the devil’s work but loved it nonetheless. She also missed how he’d let her tuck her cold feet between his calves, warming them up like her personal space-heather.

“I know, but it’s only ten days and I’ll be back to breaking your back as I ride you in no time.” Ethan had said it so casually that she couldn’t fight the blush forming on her cheeks. She was always a little more subtle, but Ethan never held back around her.

“Either way…I’ll be holding my breath until then. It’s like I can’t fully inhale when you’re not around. My heart literally struggles to beat and I know it’s unhealthy and I need to get over separation anxiety because yeah, sometimes people leave and never come back and sometimes it’s by choice and sometimes it’s not, but I believe that you’ll come back to me. If you say you will, I believe you and I can’t wait for it because I plan on tying you up and reminding you exactly why you decided you want to marry me.” She had rarely ever said something as forward as that, and Ethan liked it. He knew he already had an issue to deal with in his pants, his semi-hard dick pushing to get out and play in the worst of times.

“I’ll definitely come back to experience that!” Chuckling, Ethan pulled her in by the waist and while she felt his hardened member quite well as it pressed against her lower abdomen, it’s his lips that she had focused on. He had captured her lips with haste, yet he kissed her so patiently, so slow that she didn’t know if his urgency or patience will win over.

Parting lips, she drew in his minty breath as her own, biting her lip to stop herself from saying something stupid for the kiss he had left her with was more than an appropriate goodbye. However, Ethan found it important to whisper something before leaving, something they both had permanently etched onto their bodies.

“Infinity times infinity.”

Waiting for Ethan to come out is nerve-wracking. She had thought about what to say, what to do or how to act even, but her mind was blank. There were no words she could use to describe what she felt in this moment, this achingly long moment where her heart had turned into an enemy, seeking to reunite with the cause of its greatest pain.

She heard the door open, holding her breath like she had been doing so for a really long time now. It had her heart working overtime and as twice as much. She found herself shivering, such an odd way to experience nervousness, but he had always had that effect on her. He had always made her body react in the weirdest ways and she used to love it. She wasn’t sure if she was quite at ease with her reactions now.

Just as she started to overthink things, he had come into view. He didn’t look at her first, walking fast toward her as he spoke.

“Weren’t you just here? Came here to tell me about-“, but then he looked up and he felt the blood drain from his face.

“Y/N?” His voice is small and his bottom lip is quivering. She could tell he’s taken by surprise, struggling to wrap his mind around what he’s seeing. But while he’s staring at her, she can’t seem to formulate words, raising her shaky hand to give him the same awkward wave she did back when they first met.

“Hi.”

Tags: @melodiesforari​​​​ @brittttneyyyy​​​​ @beautorigin​​​​  @dolandolll​​​​ @xalayx​​​​ @godlydolans​​​​ @heyits-claire​​​ @peacedolantwins​​​ @dolanstwintuesday​​​ @accalialionheart​​​ @ethanhes​​​ @lanadeldolans​​​ @ebbach-03​​​ @dolangels​​​  @xxaamzxx​​​ @cutestdolans​​​ @yaren-ates​​​ @dolansmith​​​ @vintagebitttch​​​ @primadolangirl​​​ @caqsicle​​​ @jjustjoy​​​ @justordinaryjen​​​ @graydolan12​​​ @imaginashawnns​​​ @graysonslovie​​​ @fandomsfeministsandothershit​​​ @bdsmdolan​​​ @graysavant​​​ @ethanspillow​​​ @dopedoodes​​​ @anything-dolan​​​  @sugarfootdolan​​​ @joyrivh​​​ @reblogserpent​​​ @jonesana​​​ @emiemille  @herewegoagainandagainandagain​​​​ @adventureswithmell

[silverdriftdragon]

Don’t Eat the Weeds

x - Done

o - requested

@badthingshappenbingo​

First I want to say how very sorry I am that this took so dang long. For whatever reason Lin and Caspar fought me tooth and nail about getting this done and while I’m still not too happy with it... I hope its at least enjoyable for you! Again, I apologize!

 The next thing I post may not be request related, just to revive my brain a bit. but I’m hoping to get these requests done soon!

You can also read this on Ao3!

It was not unusual for Caspar to find his boyfriend in the weirdest places, sound asleep. Once, he found the man asleep among the plants in the green house in the middle of the night while recording their magical properties. Another time Linhardt had been hiding from Edelgard, ended up on the roof somehow and dozed off there. So, to have found him in the library, out cold beside the shelves and books and papers scattered around him… it seemed mild. Caspar just picked him (and all his papers) up and carried him back to his bed like he usually did.

Except, when he came back to check on him several hours later… Linhardt hadn’t moved.

Though, he had been recently obsessing over whatever his current topic of research was, napping far less than usual… so Caspar just assumed he was completely wiped and needed the sleep. The question of waking him up for dinner did cross his mind, as sometimes food was the farthest thing from Lin's mind when he got like this… but eventually he decided to just bring something back for when the man awoke and set off to get his own dinner before bed.

 The worry didn’t set in until the next morning. Caspar had slept in, having gone to bed late because he lost track of time sparing with Raphael, but when he went to see Linhardt… he found the scholar still in bed, seemingly asleep still and in the exact same position that he was in when Caspar laid him down the day before. The food that had been left for him was completely untouched as well, so it wasn’t like he got up, ate and went back to sleep.

 “Hey. You can’t sleep all day… there’s training to do!” Caspar called loudly.

 No response.

 His face knitted together into a look of concern. Normally even in a dead sleep, the mere mention of training caused Linhardt to protest. Yet, not only did Caspar not receive so much as a single groan… there was no reaction to his naturally loud voice. Slowly he walked up to the bed and reached out to shake him. “H-hey, Lin you-“ He jerked his hand away almost the moment he touched him. Even though those clothes, the mage was burning up and still very unresponsive. Caspar bolted out the door in an instant, nearly tripping over himself in his rush to find Marianne or Mercedes.

 Everything after that happened in such a blur, Caspar could barely keep up. He found Mercedes, but it took her AND Marianne to get the situation under any sort of control and even then, one of them almost constantly had to be casting some sort of faith magic while the other worked to find out what was wrong. They asked him so many questions he couldn’t answer… was he showing any signs of illness before? What caused him to fall unconscious? Was it sudden or gradual? Was he showing any odd symptoms before this? Each time he couldn’t answer, he felt worse and worse.

 “I-I don’t know… I got up yesterday morning and he already had his nose in a book… I don’t even think had gone to sleep… but he seemed fine! I gave him a kiss and asked if he wanted breakfast, he told me he would eat soon and then I left. I got busy and didn’t see him again until I found him and he was already out…”

 “Where did you find him?” Mercedes asked, just a gentle as ever, standing over Linhardt with a stead cast of magic. Marianne was just quietly testing different thing to see if she could pinpoint a cause.

 “In the library. I-I didn’t know anything was wrong! He falls asleep everywhere, I-… I didn’t know…” His voice cracked at the end, tears prickling his eyes as they fell upon the unconscious form upon the bed. “I didn’t know…”

 “Don’t blame yourself, Caspar.” Marianne piped up, though still very soft spoken. “do you happen to know what he was studying?”

 “One of those plants in the greenhouse… said he found one hidden in the back that hadn’t been studied a lot.” He wasn’t really sure why that mattered at all, but when he saw Marianne and Mercedes look at each other so quick, the confusion only got worse. “What? What’d I say?”

 “I need to know which plant. It's possible it could be the cause.” Mercedes stepped away, letting Marianne take over the steady stream of faith magic.

 “He had a stack of papers scattered around him, maybe its in there sonewhere… they’re on his desk if that helps.” He offered, watching her as she hurried over to the desk. “You don’t think he ate the plant or something do you? I mean I know Lin gets a little weird when he is doing research…” he watched Mercedes stare at one particular piece of paper for a longer than she had the rest of the stack.

 “Yes, I believe he did. But I think he overestimated its effects.…” she started gather up some herbs that she brought with her. “Its treatable, I just hope we aren’t starting to late…”

 It didn’t take long for them to send him away. Probably because he had started pacing, hovering and just in general being in the way. So, he made his way back to his room, flopping down on his bed with a thunk and vaguely hearing Ferdinand complain about the noise from Hubert's old room. Part of him felt bad, because he knew that Ferdinand had actually lost the man he loved to the war… but it was hard for him to think about that when his own boyfriend was fighting for his life. Or at least, it would have been… if the man didn’t suddenly appear at Caspar's open door.

 “Caspar,” the red head started, crossing his arms over his chest with a scowl, “Need you make such racket just lying down?”

 “Sorry, Ferdinand…”

 Ferdinand's expression softened in to concerned confusion. The normally boisterous man would normally apologize, but then make some excuse for his volume, as if everyone didn’t already know he was just naturally loud… but now it seemed something had his personality quite muted. “Is something the matter? You look… stressed.”

 The last thing Caspar wanted to do was talk about his boyfriend to a guy that literally just came out of his deceased lover’s room. His hesitance to answer apparently was all Ferdinand needed.

 “Is it about Linhardt?”

 Caspar sat up onto the edge of the bed, slouched over with his arms rest on his knees. He didn’t look at the man at his door, he couldn’t, his eyes remaining fixed on the floor. “Yeah. He…” The thought trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair, not even noticing that Ferdinand had come in and sat down in his desk chair. “Apparently he was researching some stupid plant and ate it and now… now he’s with Mercie and Mari and I dunno what’s… what’s gonna happen…”

 “Oh…” Ferdinand was admittedly a bit ashamed. He had been expecting to hear of a fight between the two given their vastly different personalities… not to hear that Linhardt was in a fight for his life. “I am sorry, truly… I am sure the ladies are doing everything to save him. Let us hope for the best.”

 “Yeah… I just… I feel like it’s my fault! When I found him I-I should have know something was up! Instead I just took him to his room and left and it got worse! What if I basically ki-… oh..” Guilt washed over him, and he looked up just in time to see Ferdinand look away. “S-sorry Ferdinand… I didn’t mean-“

 “It is fine. I know it was not your intention.” He said, taking a moment before he was able to look back at Caspar. “Please, do not blame yourself. I am sure there if there was any real indication of his condition, you would have gotten him care immediately.”

 “I guess…” The response didn’t quite fit with what had been said to him, but it was what came out regardless. “I just feel like I should have known something was wrong.”

 Ferdinand got to his feet moved closer to Caspar's side, placing a hand upon his shoulder when he sat next to him. “I doubt there was any way for you to have known. I know you would not have been negligent of Linhardt's life and I am sure he knows that as well. We all know that.”

 Caspar was quiet for the moment. That little voice in his head was still saying he should have known… but Ferdinand was right. He did get help at the first sign of a problem after all. “Yeah… you’re right.” He went quiet, staring at his feet for a while and Ferdinand just sat there with him. It was comforting actually, not sitting there stewing and wondering all alone. At least now, even as the red head got up to leave, he would know it wasn’t his fault. He lifted his head as the other man reached the door, realizing he had yet to say thank you. “Hey Ferdinand?”

 The man stopped, looking back over his shoulder. “Yes Caspar?”

 “Thanks.”

 “Of course. I hope he recovers.” The smile on his face was a bit sad. “I would not wish this on anyone…”

 ---

 Caspar didn’t know when he fell asleep, but a soft knock at the door startled him awake. At first, he felt confused and a little hopeful. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe Linhardt was ok and that was him at the door. Hurriedly, he ran to the door, hoping, praying that he would find his sleepy boyfriend thanking him for leaving food for him… but that was not the case. Instead, standing outside his door was Mercedes, looking very, very tired. Caspar visibly drooped, disappointed… but the realization that none of that was a dream crept in and he quickly went in a panic. “Mercie… Linhardt is he…”

 “He is stable, but not awake.” She gave him a sweet smile, despite how exhausted she was. “Marianne and I managed to stop the reaction and get his fever broken. I am hopeful he will wake soon and it just wouldn’t be the same without you there when he does!”

 Relief swept over him, almost overwhelmingly. He was so relieved in fact that he couldn’t stop himself from yanking Mercedes into a tight hug. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 “Ah!” She was startled at first, but it soon faded off into a soft giggle. “Don’t thank me yet Caspar! It could still be some time before he wakes up… and even then, it might be a while before he can do things normally. It was quite the traumatic event.”

 “Ok, but you said he is alive, right?”

 “Well yes. I do expect he will recover quite well actually, it just may be a slow process.”

 “You save his life, Mercedes! I… I can’t thank you and Mari enough for that.” He gave her another squeeze before it hit him that she came to get him so he could back to Linhardt's side. So he quickly let go and took off running. “THANKS MERCIE!”

 ---

 Four weeks went, but when Mercedes came in to do her normal check one day, she was surprised to find Linhardt awake. It had startled her, as she wasn’t expecting him to look at her when she came in, enough so that she nearly dropped the bowl of water she was carrying. “Oh! Linhardt!” She exclaimed, dropping her voice when she realized that Caspar was asleep, “I didn’t know you were awake!”

 “I haven’t been long.” He slurred, not completely coherent.

 “Yes… Caspar found you.” She looked at the sleeping man, exhausted from his own lack of rest and waiting. It upset her to have watched Caspar put on that enthusiastic and cheerful face, but his eyes being just so tired and lost… only for this man to be so casual about the situation. “Just what were you thinking Linhardt?? This could have killed you!”

 “Calm down, Mercedes. I was never in that kind of-“

 “No. You listen for a moment.” She interrupted, a mix of sadness and irritation. “You nearly died Linhardt. You underestimated the subject of your research and because of that, you’ve spent the last four weeks in a coma… You scared Caspar to death!”

 Linhardt opened his mouth to speak… but closed it again. Four weeks? It was hard to believe. That plant did have some understudied effects on those with a crest, but that was certainly not what he was expecting. His eye moved to look at Caspar, who hadn’t budged once since Mercedes came in. “Has he been here the whole time?”

 “Yes. He has hardly left your side in the past four weeks… it’s been a chore to get him to eat properly or sleep well because he absolutely would not leave unless he had to. Ferdinand took it upon himself to at least make sure he was brought food if he didn’t see him in the dinning hall at least once a day.”

 “Ah. Do thank him for me, would you? I don’t imagine once Caspar wakes I’ll have much time to do so myself…” He sighed. To most it might have sounded like he was annoyed, and he was, but not at Caspar as it may have seemed. It was more directed at himself for having worried his boyfriend so badly over such a gross miscalculation.

 “Sure. Just as long as you promise not to do something so reckless again!”

 “I cannot promise that. It’s bound to happen in this particular field of research. But I will at least try to make sure I have someone present to assist immediately should things go arwy.”

 “Good enough.” She giggled, knowing that was the best she was going to get. She proceeded to check him over, check reflexes and such. After she was done, she started to go get him some water and a light meal… but when she saw Caspar start to stir, she smiled and motioned for Linhardt to keep quiet for a moment. “Caspar?”

 “Huh?” He responded groggily, slowly pulling himself to a sitting position. “Mercie? Yeah… sorry I’m…” a yawn interrupted his train of thought, “I’m awake.”

 “Oh good. Will you please get a glass of water?”

 “Yeah sure. No problem.” He drug himself to his feet and absentmindedly trudged over to retrieve the requested item. “Is everything checking out ok?”

 “Oh yes. I’d say there is significant improvement!” She said cheerfully, a slight giggle towards the end as she glanced at Linhardt.

 “That’s awesome! Hopefully he-“ That’s when he turned around. His whole body froze, refusing to do anything except stare at Linhardt with the most shocked expression up until the glass shattering on the floor snapped him out of it.   “L-Lin…” His voice cracked.

 “You know, you really shouldn’t sleep in the floor like that. You’ll hurt your neck.” Linhardt stated, giving a soft smile. It was meant to be a joke mostly, as he was aware he didn’t have any room to talk.

 Caspar couldn’t even argue. He just let out a small laugh, tears running down his face as he dropped to his knees beside the bed, hugging his beloved crest scholar as tightly as possible without hurting him. He never noticed Mercedes quietly clean up the glass and slip out or Ferdinand coming by with food. He was just happy that this was over. Just happy to have his Lin back.

[agentbarton12]

Old People Teenager Watchers

A/N: gonna be completely honest and tell you that i forgot i hadnt finished posting this. like, its been done and ive writen it but i completely fogot i had to post it. anyway, here you go!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6

—

the invitation — 6

Teenagers, in Tony's opinion, are the strangest breed of people. He’s pretty sure when he hired one, he was not hiring their mood swings, rebellious tendencies and relationship problems as well, but, it seems “you can’t get one without the other” or something dumb like that.

Tony liked to believe that over the last three odd years, he had gotten better at handling teenagers, but apparently not.

Truly, he was too old for this. He needed to fill in his formal Teenage Babysitter Resignation forms and hand them in to the board of Old People Teenager Watchers (“Parents, Tones. They’re called parents.”).

When Steve told Tony what that idiot Peter was thinking of doing, Tony's knee-jerk reaction was to say no. But then he thought about it and sighed.

A heavy sigh.

Not because he was worried, or because he thought it was a bad idea, no, Tony was apprehensive because it would work. Like, it really would. And Tony knew that the only way it would, was if he helped.

And then he sighed again.

Despite this, Tony agreed to help because he thought he should. He thought Peter was on to something and he really needed a reason not to be mad at him anymore. Nearly everyone had gotten over Peter’s idiocy, if only because MJ did, and had moved past it. Tony tried to, but he couldn’t because Peter kept looking at MJ like the sun and the moon shone out of her eyes.

It was disgusting.

And endearing.

But mainly the first one.

The only problem with this staring was that Peter seemed unaware he was doing it. He had convinced himself that he liked Gwen and not MJ and now, refused to admit that he was being dumb.

Okay, okay, he used to refuse to admit that he was being dumb.

Because this was the whole reason of the plan. After an eye-opening conversation with literally ever woman in Peter’s life (Pepper, May, Nat, Wanda, Laura, Shuri, Hope, Jane, Darcy, Carol, Valkyrie, Okoye, Christine, hell, even those Guardians touched down on Earth for a while to give him advice), he spoke with Gwen who, surprisingly wasn’t upset at all. No, no, she was not. In fact, she came up with most of the logistics of the plan. Tony actually took a liking to her eventually. After he got past the fact that Peter claimed to like her, she turned out to be a really nice girl, and if MJ didn’t exist, he wouldn’t mind Peter dating her.

But, MJ did exist and now Tony had been tasked with the impossible feat of getting MJ to the tower. It was impossible because no one — not even Pepper on a bad day — could get her to do something she didn’t want to do. And since it was seven o’clock on a Thursday night, Tony knew she wouldn’t want to leave her bed.

Emmjaaay

Emmmjaaayyy, hurry up and get to the tower!

It’s an emergency!

Ned’s in trouble!! Come nowww!!!ii

Emmjaay

[video attached] he looks fine to me

TonyMan

Uhh...

Emmjaaay

also you text like a child

also also im curious as to why youd lie to get me out of bed on a thursday, so ill be there

tell the babysitter to pick me up

TonyMan

Auto-correct, MJ.

Please.

The video was a screen recording of a Snapchat Story Ned posted. It showed him, Sam and Thor sitting on pool chairs with sunglasses on, and the caption was literally, Living the trouble-free life.

Tony really needed to make sure he and Ned were on the same page before he did something.

He was surprised when MJ agreed to come over, but decided not to think too much about it and sent Happy to pick her up. He complied, grumpily, but complied nonetheless.

He told everyone of the success of his mission, but instead of being greeted with thankful hearts, everyone started running around trying to get everything in order, which just confused Tony because as far as he was concerned, the plan was just get MJ to the Tower so Peter could do whatever it was he was going to do. There was literally no reason for everyone to act like they were planning a wedding.

When MJ arrived, Peter took her up to the roof and everybody, like, everybody ran up to the common room and asked FRIDAY for the security footage on the roof with sound.

The Avengers and Avengers Children sat around and on the couch for a clear view of the holographic screen that was being projected up. They could see them standing on the roof. MJ, once again, was not wearing her own clothes and had put on a sweater she stole from Bruce and basketball shorts that could’ve either been Sam’s, Peter’s or Thor's. Her back was to Peter and Tony could feel how much he wanted to reach out and hug her.

“So, did you bring me out here to murder me or for the view?” MJ asked not turning back to look at Peter.

“Uh, yeah, it’s a killer view,” he responded, rubbing his neck sheepishly.

She turned to him slightly. “That was so achingly lame, my dad turned over groaning in his grave.”

He chuckled nervously. “Peter Parker: Dad Joke Extraordinaire,” he tipped an imaginary hat.

She held his gaze for a few seconds, before looking away. “Idiot.” Peter just smiled at her back and looked at for far longer than what was deemed ’friendly’.

“Oh, god,” Sam groaned.

“This is gonna take way longer if he keeps doing that,” Bucky muttered, rubbing his beard in frustration.

They stopped their mutterings when Peter spoke. “I am. An idiot. I am an idiot.” MJ gave him the slightest of gazes, before training her eyes on the skyline in front of her. “A huge one,” he went on, “for not telling you I love you too.”

The eyes of the Avengers widened and Thor choked on his Pop Tart. Tony remembered that they never really got an explanation for MJ's behavior all those weeks ago and this is the first time they’re hearing this.

“I'm sorry, but when did MJ tell him that she loves him? How did I miss this? Why did no one tell me this?” Wanda was rambling at this point and no one shushed her because she was voicing their thoughts. As if she had a revelation, she gasped and said, “Was it that night MJ — ?”

“ — Shh!” Natasha said, as MJ started speaking.

“Yeah, you did. Remember, when you then proceeded to ask Gwen out?” Peter gulped at the memory.

“Excuse me, what?” Steve asked the screen. The common room erupted in noise as everyone started yelling about how they needed to know things like these. Tony looked over at Gwen who was sitting on the floor and saw Ned put a reassuring arm on her shoulders.

Peter took a breath. “That’s what makes me an idiot. I should’ve told you before. Like, two-years-ago before. Because I’ve loved you for, like, ever, but me, being the idiot I am, didn’t realise it.

“I knew I liked you, but when Gwen came and I liked her, I thought that meant I liked her more, I guess. But, that night outside my room, I fell in love with you all over again, because you continued to put what you thought was what I wanted as your top priority. Even if it was hurting you.” Peter took a breath. The whole common room was on the edge of their seats and Tony was pretty sure that Bucky had gotten FRIDAY to Skype it to Wakanda where Shuri and her brother were no doubt watching.

“The past few weeks have sucked so much because I realised just how much I adored you. Like, sometimes it gets physically painful to breathe whenever I think about you and Tony has told me so many times how disgusting it is when I look at you like you’re the only person in the world. And I’m trying, MJ, but, honestly, I still haven’t figured out how sit across from you and not be madly in love you with everything you do.

“This is more an apology than anything else, because I hurt you and I was an idiot and you deserve better than that.”

“…I taught him that,” Sam said after a moment or two of utter silence in the common room.

“Shut. Up,” Clint said hitting him in the head.

“If that is true, Son of Wil, you did a mighty excellent job at teaching the Man of Spiders how to woo the ladies,” Thor said.

MJ looked at him for the first since his speech. “Now what?” Peter looked stunned. “I’m not about to jump into your arms because you said all that, because that’s some dumb, cliché romcom BS and I ain’t about that.”

“Yes, girl!” Shuri yelled from the other end of the call.

“And you hurt me. Like, a lot. Like, I was pretty sure that at some point, Scott was gonna kill you. But, I’m not going to stand here and say that I don’t love you either, because I’m not a liar. I do love you. But, I hate you too. So, this…thing, it’s moving at my pace, how I say it will, got that?”

Peter nodded mutely, a large grin slowly gracing his features. “You see all that cute poetry junk you just spewed a moment ago? Yeah, you should stop that. I might actually end up liking you.”

Peter grinned evilly. “Oh? So I probably shouldn’t tell you that you’re the last thing I think of before I close my eyes?”

“Smooth,” Clint said, nodding slightly. Thor silently gave Sam a fist bump.

MJ's eyes crinkled and her mouth twitched ever so slightly, an almost smile. “No,” she said, “you shouldn’t 'cause that’s just creepy.”

“I love you,” Peter said breathlessly.

“It’s like you want me to break up with you.”

Peter shrugged. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into him. “I love you,” he said again with her face inches away from his.

“Stop.”

He shook his head. “Nope. You know why? Because I do. I love you.” He looked her in the eye before turning away and yelling into the night, “I love Michelle Jones!”

She punched him in the arm. “Don’t make me regret hugging you.”

“But you’re not — ”

He was silenced by her crashing into him and he stood stunned for less than a second, before he wrapped his arms around her and he settled his head in the crook of her neck due to the height difference.

“YES!” the common room erupted into cheers as everyone, everyone stood up in excitement. Scott called Hope and told her everything. Clint, followed his lead and phoned Laura to update her on the newest development. Hugs were given and tears were shed.

They all decided to stick around just in case something…interesting happened and so they remained in the common room.

Tony thought he’d hang onto his position in the Old People Teenager Watchers Committee just a little longer.

“How long do you think they’re gonna stay in the common room watching us before they realise that we’re trolling them and aren’t planning on leaving until they do?” MJ asked Peter as they remained hugging on the roof.

“Dunno. They like snooping. Probably waiting for us to kiss or something.”

MJ stayed silent. Then, “We should have sex. Give them something to watch, y'know?”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Wh-What?”

Tony jumped up and told FRIDAY to connect him to the roof speakers. “You two get off that roof right now, or so help me I will ban you from looking at each other. Get down. Now.”

The last thing he heard from the two was MJ's cackling as they got off the roof. And the cackling of his fellow teammates.

Never mind, Tony was resigning.

[somethingjustsouthofbrilliance]

Heartsick (chapter 2)

@tonystark5ever and I are back (finally) with another chapter.  (bet you, guys, didn’t see this coming 😉😜)

Link to chapter 1

Here you go, and let us know if anyone wants to be added to the tag.

Chapter Two

“Thank you, doctor,” the nurse says, her tone congratulatory, as Rhodey peels off his sterile gloves, his hands aching and tired with the tight, precise control he had them under for the past eight hours as he performed the delicate surgery.

“Thank you, Cindy.” He allows himself a moment to share a triumphant smile. Rolls his shoulders in an attempt to relax the tension pulling through his neck, shoulders, and back.  “Good work, everyone. After a week in the hospital, I think Mrs. Johnson will be going home to be with her grandkids and you helped get her there.”

The surgery was a delicate one; and there was a moment when it was touch and go. In times like that, when he is well aware that someone’s life is literally in his hands to win or lose, he always imagines he can feel death’s presence, a whisper of cold and shadows no matter how brightly lit the operating room.

And it’s natural for him in that moment to feel something like fear. His fear was learned at a steep cost--a six year old that had died on his table nearly ten years ago now. He had been clear about the risks with the family, and the boy surely would have died without the surgery anyway, but Rhodey vividly recalls the moment when the small body under his hands had lost its life force, his little heart too broken to function anymore and beyond Rhodey’s skill to fix. So, unlike some of his colleagues, Rhodey never tried to teach himself to not feel fear.  Because fear was warranted. Fear was good. Fear kept him grounded, kept him aware always of the gravity, of the consequences, of the devastation that any and all missteps on his part could bring.  

The specter of that child always seems to visit him during difficult surgeries like this one -- a warning or, perhaps, a reminder of sorts.  He doesn’t usually examine that too closely.  Today, however, it does bring to mind one Tony Stark, who had bumped a child down the list for his own selfish needs. The same Tony Stark still presumably waiting for his consultation.

From a logical standpoint, he knows he should go rest and eat before he attempts it. Hammer did say the boss wanted things nicey-nice with this guy. On the other hand, he feels his irritation is justified, and if he is angry and tired when he goes to meet the guy, it’s probably nothing less than what Stark deserves, considering what Rhodey knows about him.

A small voice in the back of his head warns him that perhaps he shouldn’t be so quick to judge the man based on Justin Hammer’s say-so, that perhaps meeting Tony Stark when he is in this state of mind is not the best idea.

He ignores it. Instead he finds himself growing more and more indignant, wondering who gave Tony Stark the authority to proclaim life or death on those younger and poorer than him. After the euphoria of completing a surgery to save someone’s life, it particularly rankled that this guy, this guy just snaps his fingers, gets a heart, fires Hammer like he owns the place. That’s some kind of entitlement the guys has. Probably just because he had money he thought he should get anything he wanted or needed, and his connections to Pepper Potts (whatever form that took) was only another way he circumvented the system designed to protect people from men like him.

“Nurse? What room is Stark in?” He asked as he stormed onto the busy unit, indignant now.

The nurse raises a surprised eyebrow at the irritation that seeps into his voice.  “Room 616,” she responds cautiously, “but I think he’s sleep--”

“Thank you,” he cuts her off with a dismissive wave, pulling up Stark’s chart for a quick review before heading for the room and ignoring the apprehensive call of “Doctor!” aimed at his retreating back.

***

“Mr. Stark!”

He squashes a tiny pang of guilt he feels at the way the man in bed jolts when he shoves open the door to his room hard enough to send a loud rattle through it. Watches as a tousled head turns sluggishly in his direction, two sleepy brown eyes blinking groggily at him from a haggard face.  The guy looks sick, Rhodey has to give him that: the unhealthy tint of his skin, the sunken cheeks, the dark bags of exhaustion under his eyes.  Still, doesn’t make him any less of an asshole.

“My name is Dr. Rhodes, Mr. Stark.  A colleague of mine, Dr. Hammer, asked me to review your case, so I wanted to stop by and chat with you, if you don’t mind.” He gives him a pointed look and Stark reaches over and turns on the light, easing to a sitting position in the bed.

A spark of dark amusement flashes in Stark’s eyes at the mention of the other surgeon, his lips twitching with disdain.  “And how is the good doctor Hammer?  Has he managed to kill any patients lately?”  His voice is raspy with sleep, but his eyes look clear, focused and annoyed.

Yep, Rhodey thinks, his own temper flaring with annoyance, definitely an asshole.

“Doctor Hammer is a renowned and respected surgeon, Mr. Stark, and you would do well to remember that,” he states, voice cold. Then adds in a quiet afterthought, just loud enough for the other to hear, “He was right to warn me about you.”

''Oh, this oughta be good.'' A sharp plastic smile twists Stark's lips. ''Well, by all means, share the good doctor's diagnosis with the class. I'm dying of suspense here.''

''I don’t need his opinion to know that you're ungrateful and entitled,'' Rhodey spits out, picking up the clipboard with Stark's chart to give his hands something to do lest he should lose control completely. ''You physically assaulted the surgeon who saved your life and--''

''Hammer told you that?'' There's a steel note of warning in Stark's voice, a hard glint in his eyes.

Rhodes ignores both.

''He told me enough.”

Stark cocks his head to the side, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m sorry, I guess I’m a bit confused, Doctor… Rhodes, is it?” he says waspishly, reading Rhodey’s name tag. “Did you say this was a consult? ‘Cause I kinda get the feeling that I’m on trial here, with you being judge, jury and executioner. How exactly are you qualified? If you’re playing second fiddle to Justin Hammer then I think I’d like to demand a third opinion.  There’s gotta be at least one competent surgeon at the Shield Hospital.”

The clipboard creaks dangerously in Rhodey’s grip.

“I see. So Dr. Hammer wasn’t the first or the last.  You insult the skills and intelligence of every surgeon tasked with saving your sorry life.” He takes a deep, calming breath.  Spits out, disdainful, “Seems he had you pegged right all along. And even if he hadn't warned me, the mere fact that you would push a sick kid down the donor list just so you could get your heart transplant first tells me everything I need to know about your character, Mr. Stark.”

Whatever response Rhodes has been expecting, the confused, quiet murmur of ''What?'' wasn't it.  It throws him a bit, makes him wonder for a moment if there isn't something that he's missing here.

But only for a moment.

''Peter Parker's 16 years old,” he hisses, the furious tremble in his voice just barely under control. “A bright kid with a bright future. Which you have stolen from him.''

A momentary flash of a memory flickers in his mind. The bright and promising smile of the six year old that had died ten years ago; that would make him about Peter’s age now. It seemed so wrong, so unfair, another life wasted and lost or at the very least put at risk. He feels the heat of anger in his chest, the dangerous flare of it.  Knows it’s time to go before he says or does something he would regret.

He snaps the chart closed with a bang. Tosses it carelessly at the bed, feeling only a tinge of remorse at the way Stark flinches when the clipboard hits him in the chest.

''I think I have all the information I need,'' he sneers, turning away from the man to head toward the door. ''There's a terminally ill organ donor at our partner hospital who's taken a turn for the worst today. I was told to expect the transplant team within the next 48-72 hours. Someone will be back to prep you for surgery then.''

He pauses, one hand already on the door handle. Turns to throw one last glance at Stark, who stares past him with an oddly lost, pensive look in his eyes.

''I'd say it was a pleasure to meet you,Mr. Stark, but I'm not in the habit of lying to my patients. Good day.''

***

Rhodey feels surprisingly better after his altercation with Stark; after all, if he is forced to do a surgery on someone who bumped a kid down the list, he can at least sleep easier having given the bastard a piece of his mind first. He’s a doctor. He’ll do his job and do it well. But he doesn’t have to like it.

He raises his eyebrows in challenge to the nurse as he walks by. There’s a pretty good chance she heard the entire conversation between him and Stark and for some unfathomable reason she appears to be unhappy with him. It doesn’t matter; Stark’s pockets are so deep, there were probably very few people he couldn’t buy or charm. Rhodey just happens to have a bit more integrity than the rest.

He heads to the doctors’ lounge. There was free food, sometimes even good stuff, and he is hungry and tired. He still has to visit the clinic and do some charting. The elation he felt from telling off Stark has settled in his chest, and he stubbornly tells himself it was a good thing. Just. Without the anger he felt in the moment, he kind of, maybe, feels a bit like a jerk about it now.  Even remorseful.

The feeling doesn’t last.

He has just finished eating and is washing his hands when he catches a glimpse in the hallway of someone that looks suspiciously like Stark, dressed in hospital issue pajama pants and a hoodie with the hood up. Cardiac ICU patients aren’t allowed to leave the unit, and if it is him, Rhodey will give him hell for it. Imagine thinking so much of yourself that you believe yourself to be above the hospital rules!

It takes him a moment to dry his hands and get out into the hallway, but Stark isn’t moving fast and Rhodey has no trouble tracking him, keeping close enough to follow him to see where the man is going but not so close that Stark would notice his scrutiny.

He slows down, nevertheless, allowing the gap between them to widen a bit, when he suddenly realizes where Stark is headed-- the Pediatric unit. And Rhodey can only think of one reason for Stark to be going that way; it has to have something to do with Parker. A horrible thought occurs to him in that moment: what if Stark plans to threaten or intimidate the boy somehow.  What if…?  

He clenches his fists, his nostrils flaring.  If that’s the case, if Stark tries to pull any crap like that, he’ll kick the guy’s out of this hospital so fast his head would spin.  He doesn’t care what Pepper Potts has to say about it.

He loses sight of Stark briefly as the man turns a corner and goes through the double doors leading to the Pediatric Unit. When Rhodes sees him again, Stark is already standing in front of the glassed in playroom, an area where non-contagious children are allowed to go and play or do craft projects to help keep them entertained while they are in the hospital. Several younger kids are in there now, playing with some Legos and stuffed animals.  Stark isn’t looking at them, however.  His attention seems to be glued to a teenage boy, sitting in the corner and tuning his guitar.

“Who wants to hear a song!” the teen says, and a few of the children exclaim their excitement and bring their toys over as the older boy begins to play.

And it is only then that Rhodey notices the IV hooked to the boy’s arm. So this… this has to be Peter Parker. And Stark just stands there, watching him without the kid noticing. It’s creepy, it’s...

It isn’t.

Stark looks... eviscerated, is the only thing Rhodey can think of. Like someone had sliced open his chest, reached in and crushed his heart. And he can swear there are tears in the man’s eyes.  Rhodey doesn’t understand it, any of it. Confused, he moves out of Stark’s line of sight, able to see him though not hear him clearly. He’s curious despite himself, intrigued to see how this will play out.

A curly haired man in a white doctor’s coat approaches Stark a moment later, coming up and shaking his hand. It’s Dr. Banner.  Rhodey recognizes him easily enough, he’s met him in a few conferences, spoke to him on several occasions. The man is a pediatric cardiac specialist, doubtless the one taking care of Peter. And that’s reassuring, Rhodey thinks.  He’s heard good things about Banner, and he’s had enough interactions with him to know the man’s as good as his reputation claims him to be.  He’s also known to be very protective of his patients, and Rhodey wonders if Banner is here to chase Stark out of the Pediatric wing.

Whatever the conversation that’s taking place between them, it’s less than pleasant.  Stark looks agitated and Banner appears to be the one on the defensive.

Baffled, Rhodey watches as Banner puts a placating hand on Stark’s shoulder, which the latter brushes off abruptly, turning to gesture at Parker. The noise and movement have attracted some attention, however, and when Stark turns around, he locks eyes with the bright eyed teenager. Peter seems to recognize Stark, and it isn’t the starry-eyed recognition of a celebrity one sees on television or YouTube. No. There’s a warm sparkle in the kid’s eyes that screams familiarity, and Rhodey feels his confusion deepen.

Peter waves happily in greeting, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree, and Stark gives him a weak, forced smile in return, waving and giving him a thumbs up to continue his concert. Peter nods and turns back to the kids, flicking his gaze occasionally back to Stark.

Banner says something again, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. Rhodey can’t make out what it is, but he thinks he hears Pepper mentioned. Stark opens his mouth as if to argue, then suddenly hunches over, as if in pain, his right hand clasped around his chest. Banner steps in closer, his hand gripping the man’s shoulder again.  Leans down, concerned. Stark shakes his head as if to dismiss the concern, but interrupts the motion half-way, grips Banner’s arm instead with his free hand, holding on tight.

Banner, looking positively alarmed now, waves over an orderly.  But Stark pushes away from him at that moment, straightens out with visible effort, gesturing the orderly away. Rhodey can see Bruce making an urgent argument.

“I refuse,” Stark grits out loudly enough for Rhodey to hear. “You can’t make me.”

Rhodey has had enough.

He pushes himself up to stand, walks over to the two men. “Dr. Banner,” he says in greeting. “Mr. Stark. I’d sure like to know what you’re doing out of your room.” Up close he can’t help but assess his patient’s state and he doesn’t like what he sees. The man is paler than ever, sweat dotting his upper lip and forehead from even the brief walk over.

“Would you?” Stark’s voice is dangerously low, anger etched in his face and fire in his eyes. “Your concern is duly noted, Doctor. But as I recall your services won’t be required for 48-72 hours, so in the meantime feel free to go to hell.”

Offended, Rhodey draws back, his own temper flaring.

Banner looks between them anxiously, one hand nervously pushing the glasses higher up on his nose. “Tony--”

“Save it,” Stark snaps, interrupting whatever it was that Banner was trying to say. “You’re lucky I don’t have every dime of funding for this place withdrawn. You should have told me. I trusted you.”

“Tony, it wasn’t like that--”

“Are you honestly threatening a pediatrician by saying you’re going to take away funding for his patients?” Rhodey interrupts, incredulous. “You’re... unbelievable!”

“You should talk with Hammer some more,” Stark spits out, his eyes almost black against the alarming pallor of his face, “he’ll tell you so many unbelievable things about me, you’ll be able to write a fucking book. Might even get you published.”  The pale lips twist in an ugly sneer, Stark pushing closer to the two men. “And since we’re getting along so swimmingly, Dr. Rhodes, you’re officially fired. Now there’s a decision we can all be happy with.”

Too surprised to speak or stop him, Rhodey just watches, stunned, as Stark stalks away, fury coloring his every step. Banner makes a move to go after him, then sighs, frustrated, as his beeper goes off.

“What the hell was that about?” Rhodey demands when he can finally find his tongue again.

“I’d love to tell you all about it but there’s an emergency.”  Banner sounds anxious, and somehow Rhodey doesn’t think that unease has much to do with the emergency at hand.  “Listen, Dr. Rhodes, Tony Stark is a good man, one the world needs.”

“Needs his money you mean,” Rhodey can’t help the disdain that slips into his voice.

“No.” Banner blinks at him, his brown eyes inexplicably disappointed and... sad. “I don’t mean that. I mean we need Tony. And I’m afraid if you don’t find a way to save him, no one will.”

Rhodey shrugs.  “Well he just fired my ass, so....”  The thought bothers him for some reason, even though he doesn’t like to admit it.

Banner nods, grim.  Turns away, already starting in the direction of the OR. Calls over his shoulder before his steps turn into a hurried jog, “You might think about trying to get yourself unfired, Doctor. If you’ve been listening to anything Justin Hammer has been saying about him… let’s just say you might want to get a second opinion.”

[vintagegoddess12]

Radioactive Salvation

[Cordelia Goode x Reader]

A/N: Thanks for waiting y’all and the support. This chapter is for all those Michael x Reader stans out there. This is like long haha Hope you enjoy. We’ll get some witch interrogation next chapter so watch out for that 

Tagging: @cordeliasflowergirl

Part 1 Part 2

CHAPTER THREE

MICHAEL’S P.O.V

You were running. And running. And running. Hoping to whatever you believe in to save you. Two men were after you, carrying a knife and a pistol. I followed the commotion yet maintaining my distance. I was taking comfort in the wilderness, calling for strength and guidance to my father. I am lost. I am alone. The only woman who loved me just joined him, no thanks to that soon to be dead Supreme of the Coven, Cordelia. She will burn, I swear. Then I heard the rustle of the leaves and pleading cries of woman. It was you. The forces in the forest suddenly shifted - as if it's all coming to you. The clouds were getting darker and the winds getting colder. Birds started flying away, feeling the brewing storm. "You would never get away, witch!" Shouted the guy with a pistol. He fired in your direction but missed. Silly, mortal. I followed wherever you go, quite enjoying the sight of a witch suffering. It started to rain, hard. I'm guessing you're the one doing it. There were thunder and lightning every now then. You were powerful enough to conjure a strong storm and I found that interesting. Unfortunately, you tripped due to the slippery grass and the men after you, I'm guessing are witch hunters, caught you. "You think you're so clever, with your rain and lightning," the man with the knife then sliced open your clothes. "We've never tried it with a witch," the pistol guy smirked, evilness evident in his eyes. "There's always a first time for everything," the knife guy continued slicing your clothes. "Please, don't. I meant no harm," you cried. I can feel that you're scared. Soon enough you will be on survival mode. I can then know what you're really made of. Maybe it was the presence of my father or my proximity that heightened their carnal desires. The guy holding a pistol placed himself on top of you. He started humping and grunting, taking advantage of you. Tears keep falling out of your eyes. I was about to step in and stop them when I heard your cries. "Cordelia, please. Save me, Delia. I need you." You keep calling her name. I stepped back in the shadows and decided not to meddle. You witches can fight your own battles. You kept squirming under them, begging them to stop. Tears and rain glistened in your face with the setting sun. One guy finished and still no sign of your Cordelia. The guy with the knife started his turn and you saw it as a chance to fight even more but he was having none of your defiance. So he stabbed you in the stomach. To my surprise, you retaliated. You sent them both flying backwards. This is the main attraction. You still tried to escape but they fired a shot, and this time it hit you. You fell but stood up once more, drenched in blood and water. I can see the life flowing out of your body, little by little but there was something different in you this time. It's not self-preservation that keeps you standing, not anymore. Its rage. You stood your ground, unafraid that they are approaching you. You're a fighter. You raised your hand and uttered with great conviction what would be your last word. "Descensum," as you flicked your finger. Those bastards fell to the ground and I'm sure they're not getting up anytime soon. You just sent them to hell. I didn't know you can use that spell to someone else. A small smile spread to my face. You fell, staying motionless on the ground and the rain stopped falling already. I approached your lifeless body. Your last moments here on earth were tragic, to say the least, and yet there is peace in your face. I need to know who you are and determine if I can use you against Cordelia. I looked into you and your life flashed before my eyes. You were in a house and man was leaving You were banging in a door, hoping for the woman behind to open it. You were weeping and burying the same woman. You're in the academy for witches. You keep meeting Cordelia in the middle of the night. You kissed her. You are her lover! You saw her with Misty Day You stepped out of the academy. You saw two men and ran. You cursed them. Then you saw nothing. You are more than just a powerful witch. You own the Supreme's heart. A heart for a heart. I can definitely use you and your powers but first, I need to bring you back from the dead. Few hours have passed and I keep thinking what I would do to you. I can burn you in front of your Supreme, the way she took my Ms. Mead. Maybe I can make you kill her. Or I can dangle you in front of her. A lot of ideas are running in my head but the most important is for you to wake up. Your loud scream caught my attention. I rushed to your side and asked how you are feeling. "Everything...ahh...hurts," you cried. "Why does everything hurt?" "Y/n, I saved you. I brought you back to life." "Who are..y..you? Where am I? How do you know who I am?" Panic evident in your voice. "I'm Michael. You're in my Ms. Meade's house and room." I honestly answered. "I saw you in the woods being terrorized by two men." You paused for a while, trying to take in everything. You looked in to my eyes, as if you're trying to search for something. You're eyes then went wide, as if realizing something. "You're the Antichrist!" You stood up from the bed and tried to get away. You're leaving. I can't let you get away, not when there's one hell of a future ahead of us. 

I grabbed your arm and said sternly,  "there's no use in leaving, y/n." You stopped and looked at me, puzzled.

Everyone in my life either wanted me dead or died for me. When I breathed life into you, a part of me became a part of yours and I can’t handle losing a part of me, not anymore. I summoned all the courage inside me and took a deep breath. "Your life is now meant to be lived by my side." --- And you did just that for 3 years or so. I built the Cooperative and the Outposts from the ground for my believers, with you by my side. I would wake up in the morning with you smiling in the kitchen, preparing my Ms. Meade's signature french toast, with no trace of ill-feelings in your eyes. Your smile would be sometimes enough to erase the troubles in my mind after a very bad day. You even sometimes assist me in making the protocols to save the believers for the end of the world. A total 180 degree shift of character from the woman who tried to get away from me one night. You do not show fear from the evil inside me. You treat and look at me as an equal. Sometimes I even wonder if what you are showing is real because it's just to good to be true - you're too good to be true. You were like a ray of sunshine amidst the crowd of people with literal dark hearts and souls. Despite the darkness flowing in your body - the rage, the pain, and the disappointments of your previous life - you still manage to be as loving and caring as before. You were my light. And I couldn't just let you go. When Cordelia asked why were you with me, I felt like I had to prove a point - I had to make sure that your very presence hurts her. “She’s with me, Cordelia.”I paused and looked for her reaction. “She chose to be with me. Not your coven, not with you.” She stopped for a moment, closing her eyes. "She is a Salem witch, Michael. She belongs to the coven." She tried to reason out. How I hope you can see the desperation in her eyes? I shook my head and started going down the stairs. "With you, yes, she is a witch who belongs to a coven," I stared intently to her. My intimidation skills have been effective, thanks to you. I stood in front of her. "but with me, she is the coven." The puzzled look of everyone in the room fueled my amusement. "What are you trying to say?" the former hollywood actress, Madison, inquired. "I think that could only mean one thing, dear," the old redhead witch chimed in, staring directly to the back of her Cordelia, "he's going to try and make her Supreme." The younger witch I saved from hell huffed as she crossed her arms in front of her chest and clenched her jaw. I can feel a tinge of jealousy in her. "Though that would not be possible because she has been a traitor to the coven. She will be burned at the stake." Cordelia remained silent after her auntie's  - or should I say mother figure -  comments. I turned my attention back to the witch who started it all and asked coyly, "Will you let her burn, Cordelia?" I quite enjoy putting emphasis in her name and using it as an insult. "No witch is above the laws of the coven," she replied, trying to conceal whatever she's feeling. A small smile formed in my face. "3 years later and you still choose the coven over her," Cordelia clenched her jaw, "no wonder she left you." That seemed to trigger a response greater than words from her. Balls of fire formed from the lit torches inside the common area and started to go in my direction but not before it was extinguished to nothing but vapor. Cordelia looked behind her to see who blocked her magic, only to find you standing with your eyes closed. You opened your eyes and smiled, not minding that you just intercepted the most powerful witch's magic caused by rage. "Shall we not kill each other before dinner," you glanced at everyone. "I did prepared a sumptuous meal." The witches looked among themselves, deciding whether they must eat before they attack us . The television personality and voodoo queen, Dinah Stevens, knew well enough not to meddle with these affairs, thus she remained in her dark corner. "Can we just eat, please? I haven't had anything for dinner." The entitled rich witch, Coco plead. If we were in Limbo, gluttony is her greatest sin. Myrtle gave a resigned look. Madison looked at you with her signature bitch face, "Okay, we'll eat. In one condition." You raised a brow. "We'll have a question and answer portion after." You looked shocked for a brief moment but returned and plastered smile in your face. "I don't see any problem with that," you replied, ever the gracious hostess. So do I. Mallory led them to dining area but you remained standing in the middle of the hall. I walked towards you and acknowledged the concerned look in your eye. "No violence, Michael." You reminded me. The smile in your lips turned in to a frown before you said, "We'll have to talk about the death of three witches later, too." "As far as I know, I'm only responsible for two of them, darling." My reply caused you more confusion than clarity, as evidenced in your face. "Ms. Meade," I called and felt her walk towards us. "Would you mind making a swift sweep of the premises? There might be an intruder." She nod her head and started. "Does that satisfy you?" I asked. You let out a breath and faced the dining area. "It does," you replied, "and now,- -let's have our last supper."

[needlefac]

I Travelled back to home Bolton this weekend (09.07.21) and its a big deal. I've been fully out as trans just less than one year. I have only seen my mother twice and my father once in that time. My uncle, cousin and her twin boy and girl are coming up from down south to see me too. I was nervous to say the least. This is just my diary of the weekend and I hope it resonates with some of you. Family can be difficult and I know my experience isn't unique but I feel like sharing this is necessary. I feel weird being in my old room. I was so sad here sometimes. I can see marks in the wall where I literally punched it. My mum has papered over it (no need to over egg the metaphor there) and she calls it the “guest room” now. I’m a guest in my own memory. Mum was digging out some old photos and I look miserable in most of them. Even at weddings, no especially at weddings. I mean, who’s the bitch in the frock getting all the glory! Oh yeah, it’s my sister. It wasn’t always bad here but I did have to run away to be who I am. I know that “small town boy” thing is a cliché but it’s totally true. Bolton is a dead town if your interests include techno, contemporary art and wearing latex. (Not necessarily in that order) It’s 01.45 am. The glow on the horizon from this window is Manchester. Only 15 miles away but a world of difference. I’ve only been back here 5 hours and I’m looking at that perceived emerald city like I used to. I’d tune into Kiss 102 and listen to the city until I was old enough to get there at night. The 0161 wasn’t always the answer but it allowed me to be Freda. When I got here today my dad was in bed. I took that a bit personally. He’s not seen me since Christmas, he could have stayed up a bit. I don’t know if he’s avoiding me or just tired. I’ll find out tomorrow, I suppose. My mum acts like everything is ok no matter what. There could be a hurricane coming at the house and she would just close the curtains and say “let’s deal with it later when we’ve all calmed down”. I wanted the hurricane so badly when I was young. I should stop over thinking this. I’ve had wine. I can’t sleep. I woke up early because my eyes were all crusty and itchy and my breathing was shallow. Then I realised the pillows my mum had put on the bed were feather and I'm slightly allergic. So that wasn't the best start but like everything about Bolton, I'm slightly allergic. My mums first concern of the day was picking up a bag of compost form the local hardware place, Maher's. In my mind I hear her say, 'I need some dirt from Mars'. Which causes the first laugh of the day. She needs me to do things like this for her because my dad can no longer drive due to a stroke he had 2 years ago. Anyroad, l wait outside Maher's for my mum and a burly lad in an England shirt brings out 3 bags of compost and says to me 'where do you want this, love?'. 'In my boot, love. Where all the shit goes', I say. When my mum comes back to the car l say 'oh he was cute', mainly to test her tolerance and also because I'm an idiot. Mum simply said 'football is going home'! So when we got back to the house my dad was up and shuffling around like he does. He's interested in the camera drone l bought. He wont say anything about me being trans or call me Freda. It doesn't even bother me. The fact he wants to learn to fly a remote control camera over next doors house is much more fun in that moment. He crashes it into the tree and he shouts 'mission abort mission abort'. Yeh, that's how l feel about coming to Bolton most of the time. My dad was in the RAF as an aerial photographer. I knew he would enjoy this but he was getting all too technical for a 80 quid plastic toy off amazon. I don't know what 'triangulation of trajectory' is. I always feel like Bobby Hill in these moments (my dad was actually a salesman for Calor Gas and sold propane and propane accessories for a while). Anyway, I think he appreciates that I found something to break the ice, even if he wont say she/her or call me Freda yet. I had to get out of the house before my cousin and her children turn up. She knows all about my transition and is very supportive but l haven't seen her for 5 years and it will be the first time I've met her twin boy and girl who are 7 years old now. The main reason for getting out was to explore Bolton town centre. Somewhere I've not been for quite some time. I went to one of my old haunts, The Olde Man and Scythe which is one of the oldest pubs in England, going back to the 13th century. They used to hang traitors outside here during the Civil War. So I decided to sit out side there reading Majesty Magazine sipping a gin and tonic in the Sun. Imagine living in a time when a culture war raged and people were divided along binary political lines and everyone was expected to take a side? Just imagine! I've never felt more fully actualised as a person as when a drunken fool approaches me and says 'oh you look nice, love. Can l steal a roly off you'. Yes, I'm truly validated as a woman now. This is it! No amount of psychological counselling can top this. As l lick the cigarette paper and make eye contact with this feckless tosspiece I'm reminded of how precarious my situation is if he clocks me. Is he going to read me? No he's too enthralled by my wide staring eyes, the silly sod. My next stop was the Bolton Museum and Art Gallery. There is an Egyptian room which l love. So, naturally took some photos to align myself with Queen Nefertiti and all my delusional fantasies of being some sort of mythical goddess. The thing that interests me most about this is the cotton industry connection. In my artwork and performance staging l take a lot of influence from the industrial revolution. The fact that Egyptian cotton was instrumental in that is something that creates a timeline we are all insignificant on. Its both cosmic and visceral, esoteric and factual. Seeing those cotton spinning machines alongside the astrological ambitions of ancient kings is so centring to me. An absolute connection of Heaven and Earth. From the universe of stars to the factory floor, Everything was built on immortality ambitions of industrialists and cotton in this town. I had to come down a bit from that museum experience. Whoever is curating that needs some sort of award. I had to get ready to meet my cousin, Sarah who is just one month older than me. We have lead parallel lives . Her Mother, my dad's sister moved away down south when she met her husband. They live in Wiltshire and she was educated in a way l wasn't. I've always had memorable moments with Sarah on the rare times we have spent together over the years. In some ways she was the girl l wanted to be when l was young. I was never jealous of her or held any bitterness but l remember wishing my parents would talk to me in the same way Sarah was. It just seemed to make more sense to me how her needs were met. It might be hindsight talking but I genuinely wished all the gifts for Sarah were the gifts for me. I was getting ready in my old bedroom and just trying to make myself look normal. Not some over done drag race also-ran. I've got pretty good at doing a 'day look' but even my day look is still scraping on foundation like Polyfilla! My mum came in saying 'that dress makes you look fat'. Thanks mum. This is just my mums way of trying to be funny. She said my neck looked naked and l wasn't sure what she meant. She went off to her bedroom and came out with a string of beads that looked like snooker balls on a rope. (yes, I exaggerate for comic effect). As she was hooking the necklace to the back of my neck l was held in a moment of mother/daughter interaction that produced a tear from my eye that l just didn't want to show. Time stopped there in that moment like every time that didn't happen in the past happened then in one consolidated event of simple love and I pretended to be more annoyed that I'd have to reapply my eye liner. So I drive with my mum and dad in the car to meet Sarah, the twins and my Uncle at the restaurant in the West Pennine Moors of Bolton. Its been such a build up this moment and now there is no bottling out. I'M here, I'm Freda and they are just going to have to deal with it. I see my cousin rolling up in their 4x4 super posh child transporter and the kids get out first and run up to me and l don't know what to do when they say 'hello aunty Freda'. I know they have be briefed, l know Sarah has told them to do this but even so those words feel like gold. Sarah says I look great and l bloody-well do, to be fair. No one mentions or brings up my trans-ness and while its noted my dad is the odd one out in not calling me Freda I notice the support is on my side. One of Sarah's children whispers to the other while looking at me. I say 'are you two ok there' and they say 'we like the drawing on your arm'. Its telling that the only thing they notice about me is the tattoo. I'm sure they have more to ask in time and I'm so glad they have a mother who is relaxed and open enough to answer any questions they might have in future as they grow up. I'd like to think my presence and influence is a good one. This wasn't the big deal I'd been building it up to be but my mum continues to embarrass me with her ways. She bought Sarah and the kids a few gifts which were in the boot of my car. While she was giving out all these lovely things she said to me 'Freda, don't forget that bag of compost from mars, ill save some for you'. Thanks mum. Bye bye Sarah. Don't leave it so long next time. I Drove my parents home and said my goodbyes. My dad didn't say much, just 'be careful with the drone. if you fly too high it will go out of out control'. I know dad, l know. Freda's come home.