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spaceskam · 5 years ago

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our fainted thrill carries on (11/13)

warning: mentions of anxiety, kidnapping, child abuse, etc

ao3

Regardless of their ambiguous relationship status, Alex had promised to let Michael know when he got to the motel safely.

Midnight passed.

1 A.M. passed.

3 A.M.

5 A.M.

7 A.M.

“You just forgot, right? You got back and went to sleep, right?” Michael asked, leaving his 5th voicemail of the night. He’d called 30 times and texted even more, spending the whole night curled up on the couch and biting his nails until they hurt. “You’re gonna call me when you wake up and you’re gonna be so pissed that I blew up your phone. I checked four times, you brought your charger, so if you’re ignoring me on purpose, then… Please be okay. I need you to be okay. I love you, bye.”

When Alex had gotten up the morning after their talk and just started packing a bag to still head out to meet the active Camerons, Michael had been stressed beyond belief. No matter how much he said it was a bad idea, Alex deemed it necessary. Then when Michael tried to invite himself along, Alex told him no.

“I swear to God, I am going to kill you when you get home. You can’t just not return my calls, that’s a real dick move,” Michael spat, taking a shaky breath, “I miss you, come home.”

He’d bothered him for the rest of the week, trying his damnedest to either get Alex to stay or get him to let him tag along. It would’ve been fun, he’d said, a road trip with all of them. Alex had banished him to yard work after too many minutes of failed, teenage-esque coercion.

“I’m worried,” Michael sniffled at 8 A.M. Alex should’ve taken his medication by now. Had he done his morning PT? “Please call me. I won’t be mad, I just need you. I need to know you’re okay.”

They’d been slowly trying to build trust again and now he wasn’t answering. Was he hurt? Was he avoiding him? Was he just having so much fun he forgot? Did someone take him?

“Alex,” Michael said, stress crying into his palms at this point as his whole body shook with a new, unknown level of anxiety, “I need… Just one response, okay? Just one. So I know you’re alright. I love you. Please take your medicine and eat something if you haven’t. I love you.”

For years, Michael had gotten accustomed to never being able to talk to Alex when he wanted to. He was overseas playing G.I. Joe and Michael avoided even trying. But now, now after months of Alex picking up when he needed him, months of spending so much time together, months of needing him to breathe… Now it felt like his entire world was crumbling and suddenly he was considering filing a missing person’s report.

“But that’d be stupid, right? You’re on a secret mission, I’m a… redacted… so I just gotta wait. Just gotta… Please be okay. I love you more than anything and I meant what I said. So, you know, if someone took you and is listening... Tell them I’ll fucking kill them. I won’t hesitate. Don’t worry.”

Michael pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to will himself to feel better. His hand seized up and his body hurt. He just needed Alex to be okay and alive and home. He needed him to come home.

“The person you are trying to reach is not available. Mailbox full. Goodbye.”

He dropped the phone onto the couch, raking his hands through his hair and pulling hard as he tried to calm himself. This wasn’t just anyone, this was Alex. If Michael trusted anyone to get themselves out of a sticky situation, it was Alex Manes. He was strong and smart and ungodly talented. He should be okay.

So then why wasn’t he answering his fucking phone?

“Whoa, what’s going on here?”

Michael looked up at the sound of Rosa’s voice. She was staring at him in concern which was new, but he couldn’t even take time to register it. He was shaking and felt like he was suffocating, his whole mind blurry and thinking of the worst-case scenario.

“Alex won’t answer and he’s not home and I can’t get in touch with him and it’s been hours and, and he said he would call or text or, or, or, or‒”

“Hey, it’s Alex, I’m sure he’s fine,” Rosa insisted. Michael shook his head, pulling on his hair a little harder.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head, “No, he said‒”

“Did you try Kyle or Jenna? See if they’d pick up? Maybe Alex lost his phone,” she tried, coming closer. The couch shifted as she sat beside him and he tried to take a grounding breath just like Alex showed him. Identify the trigger and breathe. Except he knew the fucking trigger and he couldn’t breathe because it was an actual problem.

“No, I didn’t call them,” he said, staring at his phone. His messages were still unread and it brought a whole new wave of panic. He’d never felt so fucking helpless in his life. He just wanted Alex.

“Give me your phone,” Rosa instructed, taking it before he could actually hand it over. Which was valid because he felt like his skin was being turned inside out. He should’ve followed him or put a tracker on him or put a fucking handprint on him or something. Anything.

Anything would be better than this.

“Okay, let me try Jenna,” she said after Kyle’s went to voicemail. Michael groaned pathetically, shrinking in on himself again.

A few more minutes, a few more calls unanswered, and all it did was make Michael’s anxiety grow to insane levels. What happened? What the fuck could’ve taken them out? Sure, Kyle he could understand, but Cam and Alex? What kind of manpower did these people have?

“Oh my God, he’s dead,” Michael breathed‒or, tried to breathe, “He’s dead. He’s dead and the last thing he remembers is me being a total dick. He’s dead.”

“Hey, don’t say shit like that, he’s not dead,” Rosa insisted, swatting his leg. Michael just choked his tears, rocking slightly. Horrible, intrusive images of Alex’s dead body flooded through his mind. Bloody, beaten, shot, destroyed. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “It’s Alex, he’s not dead, stop.”

“Then where is he, huh?! If he’s not dead, where is he?!” Michael demanded. Rosa glared at him.

“Acting like this will get us nowhere,” Rosa said, standing to her feet and gesturing for him to do the same. He was pretty sure his feet wouldn’t work if he tried. She rolled her eyes when he didn’t move. “Listen, I want you to really think about what’s going on right now. If something is wrong, your most useful people are out of commission. You have to actually put in the effort.”

“I don’t know where to begin,” Michael argued.

“You sure about that?” Rosa prodded.

She stared him down for a moment and he carefully took a few grounding breaths. He had to be logical at least a little bit. If he was going to get Alex back, he had to at least have a starting place. So he closed his eyes, focusing on changing that anxiety and sadness into anger. It wasn’t hard. It felt like a reflex.

He took a few more breaths before he opened his eyes.

“I know where to go.”

Michael Guerin let himself into the Manes’ residence for the second time in one week.

Jesse Manes was sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and not even bothering to stand in fear like last time. Instead, he just looked up at Michael. His fingers itched, eager to just throw him into the wall. But he waited.

“Tell me where Alex is.”

Jesse paused, looking at him over the top of his mug. He looked genuinely confused, but Michael didn’t buy that for a second.

“Did you warn them that Alex was thinking about going out there? Did you tell them about him?” Michael demanded. Jesse slowly lowered his cup.

“Now, son, I thought we were getting along last t‒”

“Answer me!” Michael demanded, throwing the mug across the room and slamming it into the wall. It was a perfect demonstration of what he’d do to Jesse if he didn’t get an answer.

Jesse sighed, looking longingly at the shattered mug for a moment before turning his attention back to Michael. He was too calm. There was nothing calm about this situation. Nothing at all. Alex was missing. So were Kyle and Cam.

“I didn’t warn them, but they already know who Alex is. He’s got Manes features and every active member knows of every family member of the other factions for safety purposes. If they took Alex, it was because of you,” Jesse said simply. Michael’s heart dropped into his stomach and his breathing threatened to choke him all over again.

“Bullshit,” Michael spat. Jesse sighed and gestured to the chair across from him. Michael was hesitant to do so. Last time they sat and spoke cordially, Alex went missing over the very thing they spoke about.

But, then again, Jesse had warned him.

Michael reluctantly took a seat.

“They have a theory that says any human who gets involved with an alien is just as dangerous and corrupt,” Jesse said. Michael scoffed.

“You think that too.”

“I don’t think that,” he said, still oh so calm, “I think it shows weakness and is a symptom of being overly empathetic to creatures that aren’t worth it, but I don’t think it’s something one can’t come back from. Alex has… other compromising issues. He’s disabled, he’s got PTSD, CPTSD‒we’re just scratching the surface. I understand why you’re worried.”

There was a level of coldness to him that Michael couldn’t comprehend. It was like there was a legit disconnect and he didn’t see Alex as his son. He viewed Alex, not as the man he was, but as the idea of what he was. A disabled, queer veteran. End sentence.

“He’s your son,” Michael said, eyebrows drawn together and shaking his head, “He’s your son, why don’t you care? Why aren’t you worried? I-I’ve seen so many shitty parents in my day, but most of the time they at least pretend. You can’t even give him that.”

“Alex made it clear he doesn’t want me pretending,” Jesse said simply, “And I learned a long time ago there’s no reason in being worried for him. Worry doesn’t change what that boy does. If anything, it makes him run towards the fire. He’s made his bed.”

Michael shook his head, leaning back in his seat and looking up towards the ceiling as he tried to collect himself.

“Alex is… He is the strongest person I know. And I have no idea how the fuck he became that with you as a father,” Michael scoffed, “No matter what bullshit is thrown at him, he can be kind. He can still love so much. He doesn’t trust you, but he still loves you. He doesn’t trust me, but he still loves me. Do you not understand how fucking incredible that is?”

Michael looked at Jesse, seeing that he was basically unphased. It didn’t make sense. How many years had this man put effort into becoming something that he forgot how to be human? How had Michael spent years trying to avoid falling into the cold arms of humanity and failed, but Jesse Manes had successfully evaded it completely?

“I’ve encountered a lot of monsters,” Michael said, leaning a bit closer and making sure he held eye contact, “I’ve encountered so many and, despite the fact that I’ve also met my fair share of loving people, I still became one. I’m still this. But Alex? Alex has been wronged by every goddamn person he’s ever met and he’s still good. He is unapologetically good. And you know what? He deserves to see that there’s a point to it.”

“How exactly do you expect to do that?”

With a simple thought, Michael bound Jesse Manes’ wrists with an invisible string. Jesse managed to hide any type of alarm.

“We’re goin’ on a road trip.”

Alex’s head hurt ungodly bad.

“Alex, hey, welcome back to life.”

He squinted and saw Kyle looking down at him, shirtless for some reason. He tried to move, but it just hurt worse so he stayed put.

“What’s going on?”

“We may or may not be trapped in a cellar,” Kyle said softly, lifting something. It was then that Alex realized Kyle’s missing shirt was being pressed to his head. “But it’s okay, we’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

“Me? What happened?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Kyle asked. Alex closed his eyes and thought really hard. He felt disoriented and achy and probably had everything to do with that head wound he couldn’t really feel.

“Um, getting to the club?” Alex said, trying to remember what happened after, but it was blurry, “Did I get any information?”

“Well, I don’t know, you don’t remember,” Kyle sighed, “I’m sure it’ll come back to you. Right now, just stay put.”

“What’s going on?”

“A couple of guy’s cornered me. I don’t know how they knew I was with you, but they cornered me and threw me in the back of a van. Same with you, but you were already unconscious by then. Not sure what happened, but you’ve got a pretty nasty head wound.”

“That’s it?” Alex wondered, “Where’s Cam?”

“Shh,” Kyle hushed, looking around and stroking Alex’s cheek as if that would cover up what he said. Maybe it would. He leaned down and put his lips right by Alex’s ear. “Don’t talk about that or we’re never gonna escape. They can’t know she’s involved with us, okay? Just play along.”

Alex gave a microscopic nod as Kyle sat back up.

“I think you’ll be okay. It stopped bleeding,” Kyle told him.

“Good, I need to kick someone’s ass,” Ale said, groaning as he tried to shift again. His body still felt too heavy. “What the fuck, I’ve had a head wound before. They don’t usually feel so… They… I…”

Carefully, Kyle hand traveled from his cheek down to his arm. He carefully put a little pressure over a spot just below the inside of his elbow. Alex jumped, his body reacting to the spike of pain. Kyle whispered his apology, but it was clearly something had happened to his arm. Kyle reached down more, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together. When he sat up straight, it brought Alex’s arm right into his line of view.

Branded into his arm was that familiar three men Neptune symbol, tiny and yet so, so obvious. In the first head, the one meaning Manes, was a little red dot, the product of an injection. His eyes went up to meet Kyle’s. His face was schooled, but his eyes showed his worry.

“And you?” Alex asked. He shook his head, saying they hadn’t done it to him.

Alex took a deep breath and nodded.

This is why he hated going in blind.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #our fainted thrill carries on

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hawopro · 5 years ago

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Prince of Tennis (2019) meme

I was tagged by the lovely @sandreeen on my main (@rupru-russiaxprussia) but anyway, I’m going to do this here! Never done this before, was I supposed to response with reblog or?? :D?? Original post here

Tagging: @zhuxinjie @wndrnvrlnd @luckycheesefoodie321@kdramapit @pillarpair @tsukkiyume if yall wanna do it, and other who’s watched this show and need to rant like I did months ago.

Lmao like I’m doing now actually, bc these answers are long............ Let me know what you guys think! I’m always down to talk about this show bc this fandom is so little hahaha

1. Favorite character(s)?

2. Favorite school team(s)?

3. Favorite coach(es)?

4. Favorite supporting cast member(s)? (characters who aren’t regulars, aren’t on tennis teams etc.)

5. Favorite original character(s) in the adaptation?

6. Who do you think enacted their role best?

7. Favorite singles match?

8. Favorite doubles match?

9. Favorite story arc?

10. Most amusing tenipuri scene(s)/moment(s)/running joke(s)?

11. What did you like most about the adaptation?

12. What do you think the adaptation could have improved on?

13. Any other thoughts you want to share?

Answers:

1. Favorite character(s)?

Childhood favorite is Zhuo Zhi (Fuji) BUT now my taste in fictional guy is douchebag with character development, therefore Ji Jingwu (Atobe) is my favorite hands down. And Ming Ren did such an amazing job that I swooned tbh... perfect amount of arrogance, charisma, with mushy inside (letting Shishido back on team and caring about Siyang like come on). But I love this adaptation of Siyang (Tezuka) as well, anime Tezuka was too dry for me. Yu Shirota’s Tezuka was good, but I love this dorky Siyang.

2. Favorite school team(s)?

Rokkaku! They’re so pure and adorable, super chill and quirky af! So accepting of Lu Xia (Ryoma) into their midst. Babies.

3. Favorite coach(es)?

Rokkaku’s coach! Mr. Six, old wise man. Where can I find one? I need life changing advice.

4. Favorite supporting cast member(s)? (characters who aren’t regulars, aren’t on tennis teams etc.)

Echizen Nanjiro (I forgot his Chinese name). Is he supporting cast?? Haha I love that he’s obsessed with a singer, make weird food, but really love Lu Xia. None of that perverted bs from anime. I approve. Especially love his and Qiao Chen’s (Momo) interaction over the singer (how Qiao Chen called him Dage and then switched to Shushu in front of Lu Xia lmao). Most striking scene is when he and Lu Xia shared a blanket. My heart.

5. Favorite original character(s) in the adaptation?

Qi Ying’s friend Peng Xiang (Sakuno’s friend uhh Tomoka?) I thought she was kinda annoying in the anime, but Peng Xiang is supportive af, always there with encouragement for Qi Ying. So funny when she said she won’t look at men other than Yu Qing and then Rokkaku walked in with sleeveless shirts.

6. Who do you think enacted their role best?

I think everyone did really great! I think the director and writers really know the anime personalities. Kudos to them for awesome in making characters well-rounded and realistic in this adaptation. Side characters from other teams didn’t get much thoughts, but I’m sure that’s due to budget and time constraint.

7. Favorite singles match?

First thought would be Siyang and Jingwu’s match. But that’s bc I’m biased. Upon thinking more, I like Lu Xia and Zhuo Zhi’s match during practice in the rain. They are a good match up, and it’s a shame we never got to see the end of it (in any adaptation.) Zhuo Zhi was actually being serious haha. It’s like they’re battling for the title of Siyang’s no.1 favorite.

8. Favorite doubles match?

OH i gif this so hard, but the Rival pair match!!!! god I love their dynamic and their development on the court! I swear when Golden pair graduates, and Baiyang (Kaidoh) and Qiao Chen became capt and vice capt, they’ll be the new Golden pair. Who else know you better than your rival amirite. New recruits would whisper behind their backs “are you sure that’s Yu Qing’s golden pair? they’re fighting like cat and dog” and then be flabbergasted when witness their teamwork during game.

9. Favorite story arc?

Studying for exam arc and training camp/power up arc. I’m a sucker for those slice of life team interaction. It’s not a sport anime without the studying bootcamp at a team member’s house. The training camp arc has nice interactions with Yu Feng (Fudomine) and you can really see that while Yu Qing is one of the top tennis schools, they really have a lot of flaws and have to work really hard to be better! That and the pillow fight scene during the power outage. And Yu Feng thought they were training. All I’ve ever wanted. Very nice.

10. Most amusing tenipuri scene(s)/moment(s)/running joke(s)?

This adaptation is hilarious! I love the whole Yan’s juice (Inui’s juice) running joke and Nanjiro’s inedible cooking with crawfish and durian and weird stuff. I also love how everyone just fainted when drinking it hahaha even Siyang couldn’t handle it. Stretcher bros are funny af, that one time they’re so used to carry stretcher and needed to bring it everywhere hahaha. And when they tried to paint each other omg. Also love when Qiao Chen crashed into Nanjiro, and Nanjiro was drawing chalk line around them to preserve evidence afd;sjlkda i died laughing. And when Qiao Chen swerved his bike and Lu Xia fell off. And Qiao Chen and Lu Xia’s double practice... there are a lot more, but I will shut up now.

11. What did you like most about the adaptation?

I’d say refer to my post Things I loved about... but basically I love how there are a lot of nuances from the anime in this adaptation. Everything is as similar as possible to anime but not forced. So I def prefer this adaptation to the JP movie or the Taiwanese series.

12. What do you think the adaptation could have improved on?

The tennis and cgi could be better imo. The JP live action movie had amazing cgi for the special techniques and they didn’t look outlandish or cringey... Also I might be wrong, bc I’m no tennis expert, but most of the actors didn’t seem to know how to play tennis? Their serve, smash and sometimes forehand really cringed me... no way those forms are legit... that ball would have flew into the fence... it’s a bit distracting and kinda embarrassing when I tried to get my friends to watch this hahaha “here watch this tennis show, but don’t watch the tennis in it”

13. Any other thoughts you want to share?

oof I spent way too much time writing this instead of studying... please come talk to me about this show! I love it so much! If yall ever write fic on ao3, please link me, I’d love to read bc there’s so little content for this fandom that it hurts me! Thanks for reading my rant until the end hahaha

#fen dou ba shao nian #chinapuri 2019 #match! tennis juniors #meme #tagged #i talked way too much #i wish i have more time to make more chinapuri content bc im not over this show at all #mine #pot stuff

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persephonescat · 5 years ago

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Birds and Other Supernatural Phenomenons

Okay, so this got way longer than expected, and I've re-written it like a thousand times, so I have to post it before I go completely crazy. Enjoy!

Ch. 1 Previous Next Masterpost AO3

________________

Ch. 6: Cats and Dogs

Marinette almost died that night. It was so incredibly stupid, that if she hadn't felt so shitty in the morning, she might've had laughed at it.

She blamed Jeremy. They were sitting on the roof until five AM when he had to leave - probably to get ready for school, but Marinette didn't ask.

He wasn't supposed to stay for so long in the first place, but she started teaching him French, and he was so hilariously incompetent, they forgot to check the time. He was pretty freaked out when he realized it was almost morning.

Okay. That sucks but no biggie, right?

Honestly, everything would've been perfectly fine if Jeremy'd let her drink her coffee. She went down to get one around two AM when she was already on the verge of passing out - forty-two hours of not sleeping will do that to you, but as soon as she put it down on the roof, Jeremy accidentally knocked it over. She watched as the sacred liquid painted the cold concrete black, and didn't go back for a new cup.

After he left, she fell asleep. On the roof. In the cold.

Ladybugs and cold didn't go well together. By the time Tikki decided to come out of the hotel room and check on her, the Sun was already up, and Marinette's body was freezing. She was still asleep, of course, because being half-dead usually isn't enough to wake her up.

When the kwami shooked her awake, everything hurt. She couldn't feel her legs and hands, her eyes seemed to roll out of their sockets any minute, and she was so freaking cold. It took her an hour to feel her fingers again, and Tikki used the time to lecture her about her sleeping habits. She had a point, not as if she would ever tell her that.

So yes, it was definitely Jeremy's fault.

***

After breakfast and on Marinette's side, a few hectoliters of green tea, Mrs. Bustier and Miss Alarie, a relatively new teacher who was accompanying them on their trip, decided to take them on a walk. In Gotham. Even Marinette's sleep-deprived and frozen-over brain could see the fault in that plan. Multiple faults, to be exact.

But given that there was no responsible adult on sight - or a slightly intelligent goose who could point that out, - they went on a walk.

Mrs. Bustier went out front, Miss Alarie was at the end of the line, and Marinette was walking a few steps behind her because she liked to think she wasn't a complete idiot and had no desire to see all her classmates die from a threat she didn't see coming.

At least they were pretty entertaining to watch.

Adrien was reading a book he got the day before without looking up, not falling over once, which would've been impressive if he wasn't Chat Noir for three years in the past. Nino was listening to music with his headphones on - not realizing he forgot to plug it into his phone, so everyone could hear the electronic tones blaming from his speaker. Rose pushed her face to every single shop window they walked past, and Alix was trying very hard to not fall on her face in roller skates. Meanwhile, Mylene somehow got gum in her hair, which she and Ivan have been struggling to get out for the past half hour.

Chloe was fighting with Lila over some celebrity's personal life, while next to them, Juleka and Sabrina were watching a movie on a small smartphone, with Max lecturing them about megabytes, satellites and something else, that also ended in '-ites'. Perhaps egg whites. Or gravesites. If she looked very hard, she could even notice the way Nathaniel moved to the rhythm of Nino's music while playing a game on Max's phone.

Kim seemed to be the only one actually looking at the buildings and people around them, and Alya was... well, Alya was live-tweeting everything. She tended to be a little over-enthusiastic sometimes.

The streets kept getting more and more familiar as they got near to the Wayne Tower. Marinette was just about to disappear and get to know the city's coffee machines when turning in the corner, someone ran into her. Literally.

She grabbed the poor man by his waist just in time to save him from falling on his face, but let go as soon as he got his balance back. She didn't like touching with people, especially not strangers.

"Huh, I'm sorry," he said, panting heavily. "I wasn't paying attention."

"It's fine," muttered Marinette, giving him a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

"Sure, just..." The man stopped, leaned on his knees, and tried to even out his breathing, "Just give me a minute."

Marinette glanced at her class walking away, not noticing her departure and found herself grateful for having a reason to sneak off for a bit.

She used the time to take a better look at the man. He was around thirty, tall and muscular, so he must've run a lot to be so out of breath. He was wearing an expensive suit. A very expensive designer suit, that matched his hair's rich black color perfectly. He looked like someone who just walked off a magazine's front page, except that his tie was messy - he probably tried to loosen it while running. However, the truly upsetting thing about him was - and Marinette had to check it multiple times to be sure, - that he had only one shoe.

His left side was fine, but on his right foot, there was nothing but a wet and dirty, Superman-themed sock.

"Okay, so let's start this over," the man said, straightening up and dusting off his suit-jacket. "Hi. I'm Dick. I'm sorry for bumping into you." He held out his hand for a handshake, which Marinette simply ignored, looking at him expectantly.

He let his arm down and dug into his hair awkwardly.

"Okay, so... you didn't happen to see a dog around here, did ya'? Big, brown, might've had a shoe in his mouth..."

"No," Marinette said slowly, masking her accent, but her thoughts were already flashing rapidly. "But how about I help you get your shoe back?" she started, noting the wary look Dick gave her.

He was about to ask her why on Earth would she do that but she lifted a finger, telling him to wait.

In Gotham, everything had a price, and she was familiar with that. She saw how embarrassed he was. She could work with that.

"And in exchange, you tell me how you lost it." She gave him a confident smile to convince him of her interest.

"How do I know you can help me?" he asked seriously, but there was a playful glare in his eyes.

"You don't. You're just going to have to trust me, Superman."

With that, she started walking to the direction her class just came from. Dick paced after her easily and frowned.

"You know you shouldn't be walking around here alone, right?"

"I'm not alone. You're with me," she grinned.

"Yeah, well you shouldn't be walking around with strangers either."

She gave him a flat look and said, "You're wearing a Superman-themed sock and you lost your shoe. I figured you won't kill me for fun."

"Hey, have you heard of the Joker? He is a freakin' clown!"

"Everyone knows clowns are creepy," Marinette told him and that was enough for her to consider the topic closed.

Dick let out a resigned sigh and for a few moments, they walked in silence.

"Now what?" he asked finally.

"Now," Marinette said, opening the door to a butcher's shop, "we get some bait."

***

"Okay," She could see the gears turning in Dick's head, "but you have to promise you won't laugh."

"That wasn't part of the deal."

They bought a few nice bones for the dog and were now walking around seemingly aimlessly, searching. They both knew exactly where they were but they weren't about to show that to the other.

Marinette grinned as Dick let out yet another sigh and started the story.

"So. I was sitting on a bench, having breakfast, minding my own business and stuff, ya' know?" Marinette hummed in agreement and almost told Dick to speak more slowly but she decided that would be too cruel. "So I'm sitting there, and then - don't laugh, I see you're about to laugh, - and then I feel something on my shoe. I look at it, and it's a freaking kitty! Like a legit, gray kitty playing with my shoelaces!" Marinette had a hard time keeping a straight face but kept nodding. "So naturally, I take off my shoe, because a kitty wants to play with me, and I have a heart, you know - stop grinning! - And I start to play with the cat because you should've seen her, she was adorable! But then here comes this big, dark blob running towards us, it's a fuckin' dog, you get it? Like what was the chance of that? And it's running with freaking light speed, - and I told you to stop grinning! - And it scares the kitty away, and then, - of course, my shoe is on the ground at this point, - he picks it up and runs off! Like what the hell?" he finally stopped gesticulating wildly and let out a frustrated groan.

"And you ran after it," Marinette continued, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Of course! I didn't think it was gonna disappear! I thought it'll run around a little, then lie down or something."

She continued grinning but Dick pointedly ignored her until they turned around a corner. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm and whispered cautiously.

"That's him!"

"Really? I thought it's a different big, brown dog chewing formal footwear," Marinette said quietly and brushed his hand off.

She moved slowly but surely. She didn't go towards the dog, she crossed the street and set the bag of bones off, showing it to the animal. It was looking at her with murder in its eyes. She stood up and calmly walked back to Dick's side.

"Now, wait," she told him.

A minute passed before the dog walked to the bones, sniffed them, then started tearing the bag apart. Dick was staring at its fangs as Marinette tugged him by his shirt. She picked up the chewed shoe lying abandoned.

"Here you go," she told him, holding it up with only two fingers.

"Thanks." He grimaced. "How did you know he was going to be here?"

'I noticed this place when I was looking for potential escape routes for my class while walking. The dog didn't go to our direction, so it must've come this way, and this seemed like a good place to start.'

"I'm good with animals," she said instead, winking. "And by the way, how do you know it's a 'he'?"

"I just know. Instincts," he said while jumping on one leg, trying to put on his ruined shoe.

________________

Comments are my brain-food, comfort-food, and shit-I-forgot-I-have-an-exam-tomorrow-food, so penny for your thoughts!

Ch. 1 Previous Next Masterpost AO3

Tag list: (You want to get on the tag list? Send a comment! You should be on the tag list but you aren’t? Send a comment! You would like to discuss world peace and/or brownies? Send a comment!)

@northernbluetongue @vgirl-10123 @theatreandcomicfreak @interobanginyourmom @crazylittlemunchkin @zerotosiki @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @my-name-is-michell @shreky-boi @coltaire

#Birds and Other Supernatural Phenomenons #Cats and Dogs #daminette #damiette #damian wayne #marinette dupain-cheng #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #damari #batman #mlb #dcu #fanfiction #writerblr #maribat

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i-can-get-extra-with-my-fics · 5 years ago

Text

Mischievous Function

Oh! Would you look at that! I’m finally proud enough of something to put it on Tumblr! (Legit tho. I love this.)

Based on THIS animatic.

Ship: Treebros

Fandom: DEH

Summary: Connor rethinks his life and doubts his relationship with Evan. But Evan assures him that he isn't going anywhere.

Tw: Suicide Attempt

Word Count: 1,053

There’s a lot of flashbacks. Flashbacks are italicized and separated with ~~~

Wattpad | AO3

---

Connor sat on the ledge. He thought about Evan and what this would do to him.

~~~

Connor and Evan had been dating for some time. Connor still couldn't get over all the cute little things Evan did.

Like sneaking up behind Connor, wrapping his arms around the other's waist and kissing his cheek. Followed by an "I love you".

~~~

Evan and Connor were on the floor of Connor's room aimlessly talking about anything really. It was one of the rare times where Evan wasn't stuttering because he had a sudden burst of confidence.

"You know I had a thing for your sister for a while," Evan randomly changed the topic.

Connor sat up. "Wait, you had a thing for Zoe?"

"For like the longest time."

Connor shrugged and lay back down. "Well, at least you came to your senses and decided on the hottest Murphy."

Evan smirked. "Who said you were the hottest Murphy, Connie?"

Connor sat up again and dramatically gasped. Evan started laughing and Connor pouted.

~~~

Evan had just kissed Connor in the hallway at school. He mumbled something about Jared.

"Y-you're still picking me up at 8 r-right?"

Connor nodded unable to say anything.

Evan started to walk away leaving a dumbfounded Connor in the hallway before calling out over his shoulder "L-love you Con!"

Connor tried hiding his blush in his hoodie and behind his hair at the same time. It didn't really work.

~~~

Connor had come over and Evan had a surprise. He was so excited that he hadn't noticed Connor looked a little down. Evan looked back at Connor and just thought he was deep in thought. Nothing wrong.

When they got to Evan's room the doorbell rang. He told Connor he'd be back in a minute and to make himself comfortable. Or that he could snoop around or whatever.

When Evan came back Connor was sitting on Evan's bed looking through a spiral notebook visibly hurt. Evan looked over Connor's shoulder and read the first line of the page he was on. "Dear Zoe Murphy."

Evan cringed. He knew he should've made sure he had thrown out the notebook after he got with Connor. Too late now.

"Ev, why do you still have this?" Connor asked. Not angry. But more emotionless with a slight undertone of hurt.

"I-I honestly f-forgot I had that a-after you asked me out. I-I thought that I h-had thrown it out." Evan looked at the floor.

Connor grabbed Evan's wrist. "Come on."

Connor led Evan to their spot in the orchard. "Look, I know I'm not enough and that I don't deserve you but-"

"Connor you are way more than enough," Evan practically shouted, "I-I h-hope you know that." He grabbed Connor's hand and tried to look him in the eyes but Connor's eyes were not cooperating.

"I read most of the letters in that notebook Ev. Zoe has so many amazing qualities and she's so talented." Connor's eyes were glued to a small rock on the ground. "W-why are you with me?" Connor mumbled just loud enough that Evan could hear him.

"L-look at me, C-Connor." Connor was finding that rock incredibly interesting suddenly. "Look me in the eyes, Connor Murphy." Connor knew better than to disobey the mom voice and looked into Evan's eyes. Though that Rock was still tempting.

"I'm not going to leave you for Zoe. Like ever. It's just not going to happen."

Connor smiled. He should've known he wouldn't have to worry.

~~~

Evan knew he should never let him get peer pressured by Jared into doing anything. ESPECIALLY when said thing involved Connor.

The thing is he kinda failed at that life rule. Like all of it. Jared had convinced Evan to flirt with Connor a lot. Just to see what would happen.

What happened was that Evan's face was bright red and Connor had pinned him to the same wall. Evan was looking at Connor. slightly bewildered. He decided that he was going to get Jared back for this the next morning.

You have power when you're the smol bean of the friend group.

Connor smirked at Evan. In response the other for slightly more concerned about what was going to happen. The Connor just bleeped. Evan was confused for a hot second before realizing what had just happened. He laughed for a moment and rested his forehead on Connor's.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

~~~

"C-Connor where were y-you l-last night? Y-you k-kinda stood me u-up.

Connor just cried. Sorta released the emotions of the past few weeks. With all of the feeling that he didn't deserve Evan, and that Evan deserved better. Which slowly turned into Connor noticing all of his flaws. Like how on all of his relationships he was kinda just there. On top of that, he remembered how much of a failure he was.

Evan had worried the rest of the day.

He had started to freak out more when he revived two messages from Connor.

im sorry

i love u 💙

~~~

This brings us to now. Connor's on the ledge. You're stalling. The voice that he had dubbed his depression told him. Stop stalling, you're just wasting your time by waiting. He's not coming for you.

Connor clenched his fists about to push himself off when he felt someone's arms wrap around his waist and the same someone crying into the back of his hoodie.

"P-please don't do it, Connor."

Connor recognized the voice immediately. He turned around and jumped off the ledge and onto the roof. He wrapped Evan up in his arms and cried into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry Ev."

The boys just stood there crying. Trying to get even closer than they already were. Holding each other as if the other would disappear if they let go.

~~~

*4 weeks later*

Connor and Evan were sleeping tangled up with each other trying to ignore the fact that Evan's alarm was going off and that they had to go to school that day.

Evan went to get up when Connor had started to whine. "Ev, baby, please. Just like 5-10 minutes longer."

Evan continued to try to get up. "Evan, please!!!!! You're warm!!"

Evan finally just decided to not fight Connor and to give him the 10 extra minutes and snuggled back up to him.

---

Yeah. I love this.

DEH Taglist: @thetomorrowshow

#tw suicide attempts #treebros #deh #oneshot #the one shot tag

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forkanna · 5 years ago

Link

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

WARNING: Very mild sexual content.

NOTE: Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this fic, please toss a little appreciation my way. Helps keep me from becoming that "starving artist" thing everyone keeps talking about! By the way, be on the lookout for a PERSONA 4 fanfic coming to this space soon! See you all!

Jessex

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"None of your business!"

Despite her protestation, Makoto couldn't seem to keep the grin off her face as she loitered around outside the haunted house ride. No matter how many times she had been badgered to enter, she had resisted; scary movies and things like that always stuck with her long after the initial "thrill", and she therefore stubbornly refused to be forced inside. The wait time had seemed best spent catching up with a friend.

"Girl, you keep ducking my questions," Eiko's voice tittered on the other end of the call. "You killed my relationship with Tsukasa, so the least you can do is let me feed off gossip!"

Smirking as she nibbled at the Jack Frost-shaped melon bread, she told her, "He was a host. You didn't have a real relationship; he was just using you for your money. Where's my 'thank you' for setting you straight?"

"I did thank you! But like, you also didn't find me a new boyfriend, either!" They both giggled for a few seconds. "So…"

"So?"

"Who are you on a date with? Still that Ren guy?"

"N-no," she said, grinning like a fool as she turned away - as if anyone were listening. They weren't. "And I never said I was on a 'date'. Stop living vicariously through me, it's not healthy."

Eiko's voice got higher and whinier. "You can't make meeee!"

"Maybe not, but there's nothing to live vicariously through. Besides, you're pretty and sweet, and funny. It won't take you that long to find someone. And in the meantime-"

"Yeah, yeah," she cut her off. "I know. I should be figuring out the rest of my life instead of just working in a maid cafe. But it is good money…"

Rolling her eyes, she hissed, "They don't have to be mutually exclusive! Just… figure it out while you work. And don't be afraid to love again."

"God… I mean, my judgment is obviously wack. You sure I shouldn't die an old maid? Pun intended."

"YES." Just then, Makoto spotted a wobbling figure and hurriedly said, "Oh, I gotta go. But I'll call you later, okay?"

"Who are you there with?! MAKO-CHAAAAN!" But she didn't answer her. Just thumbed the 'end call' button and turned back toward the incoming patient.

Sadayo Kawakami looked distinctly ill for having bragged so staunchly that she was going to be "just fine on her own" on the ride. She hung onto the railing near where Makoto had been waiting, taking a few deep breaths. "Oh… oh, I really regret that…"

"Hashtag yolo?" she asked bemusedly.

"Hash-what? Yo-low? You know I don't keep up with you kids and your silly internet lingo."

Makoto grinned wide and offered her bread to her girlfriend. After only a moment's hesitation, she took a big bite. "It's okay, doesn't really matter. Did you not enjoy yourself?"

"Well… it was fun and it wasn't, but there was a part at the end that really got me. So scary how their heads come off like that, floating all over the place!" She shivered and rubbed her arms, and they shared a little laugh. "But um… your choice of vacation spots was…"

"Was what?"

"Destinyland?! I already feel like a creep, taking a girl so much younger than me on a vacation, and you literally had me take you to a children's amusement park."

Holding up her index finger, she corrected, "It's a family theme park. Not just for kids. And I didn't make you do anything; I only suggested it because I had so much fun with my friends. Besides, you were the one who was so excited to finally take me somewhere now that I graduated."

"Yeah, yeah," she handwaved - literally waving her hand around and making Makoto giggle. "Then why didn't you invite the prosecutor if this is supposed to be for family? Hmmmm?"

"W-well, um… I think I've forced my poor sister to have to deal with my sexuality enough for one lifetime. Maybe it would be cruel to persist." Flashbacks of that ill-conceived lapdance haunted her, even now. Though she knew it was fairly harmless and she had only done it to prove a point, it was still distinctly un-familial and poor Sae had seemed a little more awkward around her ever since.

"Sure, sure. Still… I'm surprised you didn't ask your friends along. Didn't one of them get you these tickets?"

"Yes, my friend Haru. As for why they aren't with us… well, I wanted to spend a special day with my special friend. Aren't I allowed?"

Sadayo couldn't keep the huge grin from spreading. "Okay. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than glad to have my little Master all to myself. Just wondered why you chose this spot."

Instantly, Makoto's ears were turning red, and she started hiding her face behind her melon bread. "Stop that! You know it embarrasses me when you call me 'Master' - and besides, you quit that job!"

"I did," she giggled, locking arms with her. "But it's fun watching you get all ruffled about it."

"I'm not 'ruffled', I'm mortified. I do not want to be in charge of my girlfriend!"

The elder woman bit her lip and began to pet up and down Makoto's upper arm as they started strolling through the gathered crowds. Luckily, they had picked a day Destinyland was not incredibly busy, but neither was it a ghost town; too many people would have sucked all the fun out of the trip, but too few would have made their date that much more conspicuous. No matter how much they wanted to be out and proud, just enough of Japanese society still looked down upon lesbian relationships as 'immature' to make them uncomfortable; they simply didn't want a bunch of snide looks and whispering behind their backs. Maybe one day, things would be different.

"Maybe I want you to be in charge of me."

"What?! Stop saying things like that - you sound like you've been to Shinjuku."

"Nothing wrong with Shinjuku, you know; those are our people. I guess." Despite her words, now Sadayo looked a little worried.

"Oh… I know. And I've been there, and you're right; they're just people living different lives than we're used to knowing anything about. But I like figuring it out on our own."

Now Sadayo looked surprised. "You went to Shinjuku? Why?!"

Before she could answer, the conversation was suddenly shattered with an outcry of "HEY! MAKOOOTOOOO!"

At first, she felt a spike of fear that it was was Eiko, tracking her down like a bloodhound. Instead, she saw a pair of fluffy blonde pigtails bouncing over most of the heads in the crowd as they weaved toward their location.

"Ann?!"

"Hey!" the blue-eyed font of youthful excitement exclaimed as she came to a stop in front of them. "Wow, what are you guys doing here?! Are you on a date - is this a legit date?!"

"Shhh!" Miss Kawakami shushed her, cheeks rouging. "So this is the one you spilled the beans to…"

"I didn't! Well… I only told Ann so she could help me setup that nice evening we had together. Remember, your outfit? Plus she's one of my best friends, and she's also-"

"She's one of the former Thieves," she said in a much quieter voice. Makoto could see shock flicker across Ann's features but she didn't say anything right away. "Of course you trust them. I just wish you had filled me in as much as you filled her in."

Now Makoto looked just as embarrassed as she did regretful. "I… forgot?"

"A lot happened," Ann put in with a shrug, scratching the back of her neck. "So no duh you'd forget to mention it. You saw the whole thing, right, Kawakami-sensei? In Shibuya? We were fighting a literal god!"

"No, no, you misunderstand." Their teacher reached out to rest a hand on Ann's shoulder, smiling softly. "I'm not mad! Especially not about you saving us from that madman and the evil spirits pulling his strings." It seemed Kawakami had decided it was easier to think of them as 'evil spirits' being controlled by a megalomaniac than to fully absorb that the god in question had been doing its best to keep the entire population enslaved within their own complacency. Even Makoto herself wasn't sure how to feel about that, and she had a front-row seat to the near disaster. The Phantom Thieves had changed the heart of all of Japan and it barely made a difference, but at least they had hope for the future now.

Sadayo continued, pulling her from her self-reflection. "Anyway, I'll get over it. More like, I wish I knew so we could have been talking about it before now, and I could keep track of who we're 'out' to. That's all, I promise."

That made her flash one of her patented Takamaki megawatt smiles. "Really? I mean, I'm just some dumb girl in your class, you don't have to talk to me about anything."

"Ah, ah!" She held up an admonishing index finger, and both girls ducked their heads instinctively. "You're a very important person in my girlfriend's life. That trumps your grades - which really aren't that bad, all things considered. Not compared to Sakamoto-kun's."

As they shared a laugh at Ryuji's expense, another figure pushed through the crowd to their sides. "There you are! I finally got our tapioca drinks and I turned around, and you were gone! Where… did you… oh."

We were all still staring openly at the dark-haired girl as Ann smiled and took her drink, seemingly not noticing that the girl fell silent when she noticed they weren't alone. "Thanks. And I'm sorry I ran off - I didn't go that far! Just to say 'hi' to these guys."

"Suzui-san," Sadayo breathed in mild surprise. "It's… been a while. How are you?"

That higher-than-usual level of concern made sense. The last time Kawakami had seen Shiho Suzui, she had just jumped off the roof and was being escorted to the hospital in an ambulance. Now she almost looked back to her usual self, even if she seemed as sickly as she had before Coach Kamoshida's unwanted advances drove her to the suicide attempt.

"F-fine, Sensei," she answered haltingly, bowing politely. "I'm… sorry to interrupt."

"You're fine," Makoto told her warmly, keeping her smile small and polite. Trying to set her at ease.

"Yes, of course!" Sadayo joined in. "So you're here with Takamaki-san? That's good; I'm glad to see you're out and about. Really, I mean that; after that bastard… well, nevermind. Forget him."

Even while Shiho stared at the ground, starting to sink into her private pool of anxiety, Ann grabbed her by the arm and shook her just enough to jostle her out of it. "Yep! We're all about moving forward, remembering the good times and aiming for the future! Ain't that right?"

"Ann!" she whispered shyly, but at least she was starting to smile again. She had always been a bit mousy and meek around anyone who wasn't Ann; at least, Makoto had thought so.

"What? You ashamed of hanging around with the weird gaijin?"

"Don't say that, you know I'm not. I… always want to hang out with you." Then she bit her lip, looking away shyly.

And it clicked. Makoto prided herself on being able to analyse a situation, and this one was telling her something extremely specific.

"Oh." Glancing up at Ann's face, then back to Shiho's, then back to Ann's, Makoto asked, "You two are here for the same reason we are. Aren't you?" Ann bit her lip even harder and nodded - but in her case, the lip-biting was to prevent her grin from being huge enough to be visible from the International Space Station. "Wow…"

"What?" Sadayo blinked at Makoto a few times, then glanced between the other two girls. "Oh, really? Wait - that can't be true. That would be crazy!"

As Shiho started to edge behind Ann, as if she could legitimately hide there, Ann turned to whisper to her, "Wait, Shiho, you don't have to do that. These two are cool."

"Wh-what do you mean? 'Cool'? I… how do they… do they know we're…?"

"It's okay," Makoto hurried to explain, picking up Sadayo's hand and raising it as they laced their fingers together. "You don't have to hide who you are around us."

Then it finally clicked for the former volleyball star. "Oh. You two… you're lesbians?"

"I'm bisexual, I'm pretty sure," Sadayo chuckled nervously. Though the nervousness didn't make her drop Makoto's hand. "Since I used to date men and I didn't hate it that much. But those jerks had their chance; my Mako-chan takes way better care of me."

"Stop!" she hissed back at her girlfriend, and both she and Ann giggled. "But you're right, I try to."

"And you succeed." Then she turned back to Shiho. "So how long have you and Ann been… seeing each other?"

Completely red-faced, Shiho whispered, "N-not long. A few weeks."

"Ren and I took her to the roof of the school again," Ann explained as she managed to get Shiho to stand next to her again, then slid an arm around her waist. "Before he moved back home. So she could, y'know, make peace with what happened. And while we were up there, like… all the feelings came out. Things we wanted to say to each other before but couldn't, and then I wanted to while she was going through physical therapy but thought it would be too weird to do it then, and… I dunno. The time was right."

"Yeah," Shiho whispered, finally looking somewhat at peace as she wrapped both arms around Ann and leaned into her side. Makoto felt her heart skipping a beat; they were so adorable together! "Maybe I wasn't very um, perceptive, but… all those weeks of her visiting me, cheering me on even when I felt like I'd never walk again… how could I not love her? Just took me a while to see it."

"I can relate," Makoto hummed. Sadayo turned and kissed her cheek.

"Same here, Master."

Shiho's eyebrows furrowed, and while Makoto was trying to recover she said, "But is it alright? Her being your student - won't you get in trouble with the faculty?"

"Well… not anymore," Ann giggled. "She was a third year, remember?"

"Oh? Ohhhh, that's right; she's off to university now. So Kawakami-sensei is no longer her teacher." Reserved as it was, her smile started to grow. "You're really dating? It's not just us?"

"Not just you," Sadayo reassured her gently. "But you have to give the Queen the credit for being the initial pioneer."

"Huh?"

"She's the one who flipped me, dressing all butch and putting on that mustache. The rest of us were hopeless after that."

Makoto's face was almost as red as Shiho's now. "Hey! Cut that out, I am not a pioneer!"

"You totally are!" Ann cackled as Shiho was polite enough to do her giggling behind her hand. "I mean, if not for you crushing on Kawakami, I'd never have even thought about dating a girl. So y'know, my feelings for the best girl in the world would have been stuck behind that wall of, of… straight-ness. That makes you a lesbian leader! Hero to us all!"

"You're so cool with this," Makoto half-accused. "Why? I thought you were still looking to date boys - how did you change your mind so easily?"

That got the blonde shrugging. "What can I say? Shiho's amazing - and when I thought about my life without her in it, that sucked so much that I slowly realised I never wanted to be away from her again. That's about it; love won."

"Very true," Shiho whispered with bunched cheeks of joy. "She's my Ann. Forever."

"So simple," Sadayo giggled as she approached to hug them. Shiho did jump in surprise, but still allowed herself to be squeezed by the older woman. "I'm happy for you two, though. After all the both of you have been through… you deserve this."

It only took Makoto a few seconds to join in the group hug. "Agreed. I'm so happy and proud to call you my friends!"

Ann's laughter could have filled a stadium. "Right back atcha, Queen!"

~ o ~

The four of them found a ride to go on together, and had a lot of laughs before parting ways. Ann and Shiho only had day passes, and they wanted to feel out their new romantic connection - which was best done one-on-one. But Makoto and her former teacher had booked a room in the hotel.

"You're sure you want it to be here? Even though it's a 'children's park'?"

Sadayo smiled over her shoulder as she tossed her blouse onto the dresser carelessly. "The hotel isn't a children's hotel. I mean, I didn't see any 'no sex' signs in the lobby, so we should be alright."

Getting up from the bed, where she had been lounging, Makoto slid her hands up Sadayo's back to begin toying with her bra clasp. There was a brief instant where the woman froze, unsure of how to react… and then it passed. But it was enough to merit a response.

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"No," she groaned, head dropping back so she could gaze up at the ceiling as if praying for a deity to ease her suffering. "I mean, yes, I'm ready to do this. But I'm not. God, I sound like a little kid."

"I'm the kid, remember?" When that only prompted a louder groan, Makoto laughed and hugged her around the middle from behind, nestling her face against her former teacher's neck. "It's alright. I'm nervous, too. We can wait if you need more time."

"I don't need to wait. Well… I mean, we'll see," she amended with a soft laugh, and Makoto smiled even wider against her skin. "Either way, it's nice to- oh!"

The gasp was accompanying her bra coming off. Makoto's hands slid up the plane of her stomach to begin tripping very lightly over the sides of her breasts, avoiding her peaks for the time being. Clearly, Sadayo appreciated that, because she breathed a sigh of relief.

"You sure you don't want to slow down a little?"

"No. I want to see… how we work together. In bed. Since I've only been with men, and you haven't been with anyone. If…" She swallowed hard, voice growing soft and apologetic. "If I can't handle doing the deed with a girl, I'd like to find out before you end up trapped in a relationship with some woman who isn't, um… sexually compatible? If that's a real thing?"

Makoto's brow creased as she pet down Sadayo's sides to rest her hands on her hips. "Oh. Um… I hadn't considered that. I guess I just… like you so much and am getting so comfortable with you that I kind of… assumed it would be fine? But now, that seems pretty stupid."

"It's not," she breathed as she turned to face her. The girl's cheeks were clearly rosy at getting the full view of her, and Sadayo smiled softly. "I'm actually jealous it's that easy for you. Maybe I'm overthinking this whole thing, huh?"

"You think this is easy?! No way! I'm still scared! Just…" She shrugged and kissed the corner of her former teacher's mouth. "It's you."

That kiss led to a dozen more. Which led to further clothes being shed, hands wandering. Makoto was surprised at how much she liked the feeling of nails raking down her back, teeth nipping at her earlobe. How wet it made her, how much more she craved. It was as if she had been aching for this for years, not a few scant months.

"How does this even work?" Sadayo whispered once they were very nude beneath a very thin bedsheet. "You don't have anything I'm used to working with! Well… I mean, on myself, but even then I use a vibrating egg most of the time, so it's not the same…"

The former student's smile was as playful as it was bashful. "Don't worry, I'll show you."

"You'll show me? Wait - how will you show me?!"

"So… I may have looked up a few things…" When Sadayo looked alarmed, she dipped her head in chagrin. "Shhh, I know, it's shameful. But I was curious, because everything I learned in sex education barely even covered how this works for um… penetrative sex with male and female organs. It certainly never covered this."

Her girlfriend cringed, looking squeamish. "Don't say it all clinical like that, it makes me feel creepy."

"Sorry," she whispered.

"No, no, it's okay. I just… you're almost more grown up about this than I am. Doesn't that seem… backwards? At all?"

"It seems fair, actually. You get to be the adult about some things, and I get to about others. That's how relationships work, right?"

Rolling her eyes, she muttered, "Yes, Master," before kissing her again.

"Good, Becky. And as your master, I order you to stop calling me that and just… be here with me." She bit her lip for a second before whispering, "Sadayo."

"Ughhh, you know it gets me weak when you say my name like that!"

Not that it caused her to slow down at all. Makoto was more than happy to begin using every trick she had gleaned from the reluctantly-clicked links for the sole purpose of making her girlfriend sound as beautiful and unfettered as she had ever heard her. The fingers worked better than her mouth - which earned a startled outcry and a lot of shoving away, both of them laughing afterward. She had never had so much fun in all her life.

Afterward, they lay in bed staring at the ceiling and humming when they weren't panting for breath. Too afraid of what they might say to manage saying it. Then Sadayo finally broke the silence.

"I can't believe we just did that."

"I can't believe it took us that long. Well… I can, but only for specific reasons."

Rolling slightly to face Makoto, a lock of hair falling into her eyes, she whispered, "Still doesn't seem real, y'know? You and me… even if I did know I was a lesbian before, even if I was going to date a student - which I wasn't, ever!"

"I was the last one on your list?" she guessed with a smirk.

"Yeah. Just… I didn't think you could ever… you were the student council president. Right?"

"No, no, I know what you mean; I'm not offended. Trust me. But…" Sliding a little closer, she pet up and down the soft skin over her ribs, watching Miss Kawakami suck in a breath of gentle surprise when one finger moved down to dip into the well of her navel. "I'm happy."

"Mmm… couldn't be happier you took my heart. Even if this is crazy, I'm glad we didn't screw it up somehow."

Giggling, she leaned in to peck her chin. "Came pretty close, pretty often. But at least we're here now. Together. And… we can be together in Okinawa, too."

"Really? You still wanna go, even after Destinyland?"

"Of course. We don't have anywhere to be; not for a million years."

"We sure don't, my Queen."

They lost themselves in passions again, lips and hips colliding and arms tightening around sweating backs. And Makoto Niijima vowed anew that she would never let Sadayo Kawakami out of her sight again.

THE END

#Queen Of Temperance #persona 5 fanfiction #persona 5 #p5 fanfic #p5 #sadayo kawakami #makoto niijima #makoto x sadayo #teacher-student relationship #forkanna writes #jess the writer #completed fic

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longeyelashedtragedy · 5 years ago

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this has been the most wild fuckin year so let’s do a Year in Review shall we

in terms of internet and fandom life, that is. my real life has been atrociously boring but who cares about real life amirite folx

january probably the only calm month of the year. i spent the first day of the month watching the brazilian inauguration in burgos, spain with one headphone in, while ordering for my family in a restaurant where nobody spoke english (my sister speaks decent spanish, but my whole family has like 8194814 food restrictions so it kind of went past her level of ability). translating between spanish and english with portuguese in one year was kind of awesome. i watched bodyguard and it was amazing! what else...in january i briefly owned the issue of spanish GQ with Luka on the cover which i then forgot about until november. other than that...? nada. the calm before the storm. (fav music)

february was so long ago that i keep forgetting how insane its 28 days were. probably the wildest month of the year really. i got involved in an absolutely batshit and exclusive group chat with a famous person’s family member (which must remain confidential). it was all sunshine and rainbows for a week and a half and it then devolved into the most absolutely insane Lord of the Flies situation ever--it turned into 1 main chat and then 1 chat that was less puritanical than the main chat, and that chat spawned another chat that didn’t trust the previous chat, and then that chat had a massive argument and a like 6-person bitchy chat modded by a gay guy who does voodoo (shoutout to ALCIDES) spawned from that one. i made it into every level of group chat and was asked by the tiny bitchy chat to spy on the other bitchy chat (i did not lol). i was a member of the tiny bitchy chat until i got a new phone and was logged out of whatsapp for like a month. these words can’t even convey what this chat was like--oh and did i mention it was all conducted in only my 3rd-best language? it’s no wonder my weird ass survived middle school almost entirely unscathed. as this was winding down, on the very last day of the month, I found out about Justin’s involvement in the SNC-Lavalin scandal and decided to go public about my years-long boner for him; Lavscam definitely changed the course of the rest year ~ Oh, also i began helping to repair a friendship that had had some Drama go down so that was p cool ~ (fav music)

march was a Time. The insanity of lavscam helped me finally finish the macdeau I started writing the previous December when a bunch of tungelr people called me disgusting for writing it. i wrote my first straight-up serious explicit porn in years which has wound up being the third-longest thing i’ve ever published on ao3. Also, Hozier released Wasteland, Baby! which made a huge impact on me as well. i spent like half of march staying up till 3:30 am writing said Long Fic, and i was firmly in the closet about stanning manu. also justin almost got a vote of no confidence or something and he got busted for eating a chocolate bar during a parliamentary all-nighter. (fav music)

in april i wrote a ton of fanfic thanks to declining mental health(tm). i think this is when i started my emmanuyell insta account and became really into making weird edits (which i still love doing just...don’t anymore.) i started meeting some cool people thanks to macdeau. what else happened in april? i feel like it wasn’t actually too eventful other than writing a lot of fanfic and being Annoyed about manu. feel free to jog my memory lol. oh i think i wrote “Okay so who from the French national team are we gonna ship Manu with” on twitter after seeing photos of manu + antoine griezmann at the World Cup but nothing came of that...at that time... (fav music)

may saw me having to deal with my shit mental health and up my meds but that seems to have had a good effect because i seem to not be too depressed to write in the winter/fall anymore! it was the 2nd anniversary of manu’s election and at the Christchurch Call in paris, macdeau took that amazing fairytale princess photo together that was completely unrivalled in Gay Shippy Feels moments until ivan went out of his way to kiss luka during the el clásico gameplay last wednesday. someone wrote ao3′s first griezmanu drabble and at the end manu gets down on his knees in front of antoine, takes off his shoes for him, and sucks his dick, and i achieved another state of being entirely. my sister graduated from grad school and when we went down to DC for the weekend i went to eat at this restaurant manu famously ate at while there and ordered the same stuff he did and i have no idea how he consumed all that grease. i learned about the song O Come, O Come, Emmanuel *snort*. i feel like other things happened in may too? OH YES--i got the idea for my magnum opus, Trophy Boyfriend, and started to write it. the first scene i wrote was justin blowing manu in the hallway. then the same day i wrote the scene at the airport (which was the ending for a solid month and half till i realized it shouldn’t be), and the saddest scene in the fic--but we’ll stop to open presents. oh! and i stumbled across the macronists discord chat which is such a delightful little community *weepy sniffles* (fav music)

june was Eventful. a french neonazi on tumblr told me to go let manu fuck me in the ass because i was a fucking degenerate. what a start! then came the ceremony in which manu awarded everyone on the french national team the legion of honor medal and the way he and antoine looked at each other was truly...Wait it was the 3rd Gay Shippy Feels moment of the year. as soon as the ceremony was over i wrote a fic about it and haven’t looked back. between this + watching almost every 2018 World Cup game and the women’s world cup (during which I cried during argentina’s last game because of that miraculous penalty) i finally achieved my years-long goal of getting into Futbol(TM). Antoine dropped his spotify playlist and my crush on him turned into Intense Love (TM) and also he introduced me to some legit awesome artists. which led to (fav music)

july, in which i wrote “ça c’est ma dope” which is definitely the best thing i’ve written since i wrote “modernity towering in front of the sky” almost exactly 10 years before. got embroiled in Soccer Transfer Drama and learned its pain for the first time (unfortunately, since i wound up attaching my heart-wagon to barça’s Suddenly Least Favorite Player, the transfer drama pain has...never ended) became a full-fledged culé, O the joy O the honor. i wanted to ship antoine with someone on the team, which in their current chemistry-less season is a real challenge, but after seeing a few photos i decided it would be fun to casually ship antoine + ivan rakitic (partially because, ever since i went from Enemies to Lovers with the croatia NT during the World Cup, he was one of the only players i knew anything about other than messi, suárez, and piqué lmao). while looking on ao3 to see what kind of headcanons people had about him--and the fic is definitely in general better than what’s out there about antoine, which is perplexing because antoine is much easier to write than ivan--i found That Amazing Rakidric Fic and thought “oh wait that ship makes a lot of sense” and started also shipping ivan and luka with the fire of a thousand suns. oh and my air conditioner was broken for like 3 weeks. i worked on more fics, seriously outlining the path of Trophy Boyfriend, and my music taste was killer. (fav music)

in august i finished Trophy Boyfriend in my neighborhood Starbucks after writing the scene that was giving me the most trouble (the scene at the beginning where they’re organizing their book collection). the fic has made multiple people cry and people disagree on whether justin’s choice at the end was the right one and god i’m so proud of it. Instantly went on to write ‘i might not mind,’ a lively lighthearted Friends to Lovers ivantoine~ romp which was definitely going to be a one-off and i was definitely not going to get an extra celeb crush out of it,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, (fav music)

in september ivantoine became A Thing in my mind and it’s a whole ongoing slow-burn character-arcy series that has taken a very different turn than i had expected. i’m not saying it’s like, the most deep writing of all time, but it’s gone to some interesting places emotionally. honestly, ships and boners aside, the concept of a person who made some really stupid homophobia 101 comments many years ago slowly realizing over and over again that they have gay feelings for a man who seems rather comfortable with gayness is a fascinating one and one that’s really cool to explore in writing. Or at least, i think so. in many ways ivan is my most unreliable narrator because of the many layers of Discomfort, Emotion and Repression at play in the fic while he’s interacting with this pretty cheery and uncomplicated seeming-dude who’s still perceptive enough to sort of know what’s going on (and that’s not even adding in the star player/falling from grace former rockstar dynamic!!!) i know in the current climate it’s Not Allowed to write about someone who said a bad, but luckily i’m too old to give a Fuck. ivantoine is hard to write but it’s my bff’s favorite ship of mine and has a few other excited fans on ao3 which tbh is kind of an accomplishment considering i made it up out of thin air and it’s not something you’d ever think would be a thing. instantly also developed ‘getting called out about ivan by a child on the internet’ as a goal. and...i achieved my dream of leading high holiday services!!! (fav music)

october had more high holiday services and i worked a lot on certain fics (including d*janfic which would be fun to finish). i came up with the idea of a Very Long Rakidric Fic based on the translation of a gorgeous croatian folk song i sang in college (Janko fell asleep under the poplar/My dear and beloved/My beautiful dark eyes/Look at me/Under the poplar's golden branch/My dear and beloved/My beautiful dark eyes/Look at me/I tore off the golden branch/My dear and beloved/My beautiful dark eyes/Look at me--in which the golden branch is a reference to a way to get into the underworld). decided to start quarter-assedly learning croatian for fun. Fun...ha. other than fangirling a lot and watching the croatian NT play, october was pretty uneventful? i think? Justin got reelected and mauricio didn’t ;( (fav music)

in november i finally achieved my dream of having a literal child on the internet call me out about being attracted to a homophobe. (they were a madridista even!) accidentally started writing some more rakidric and now i’m seriously hooked. also accidentally came out of the closet about the secret crush i’d been harboring on luka modric and then one fateful day in the ihop on 14th st i realized i’d had this crush already and repressed it from my memory. Don’t do that kids! now it’s Hurting Really Bad. Ivan dropped the most pathetic and candid interview like...ever and i hope “¿Cómo puede disfrutar uno? Jugando al fútbol. ¿Cómo se siente mi hija pequeña cuando le quitan un juguete? Triste. Yo me siento igual. Me han quitado la pelota, me siento triste” goes down in the history of most epic futbol quotes of all time. (still haven’t actually been able to watch this because no one has uploaded it anywhere) What else...............Am i forgetting anything? i celebrated my birthday with @tender-vittles in epic fashion after two years of Not doing that, and turned 32 going on 15. enjoyed my first-ever “x reader” fic (zlatko dalic x reader LOL) and finished “drive your plow over the bones of the dead” which was real fucking good. i saw hozier live and it was a religious experience and i unexpectedly cried during nina cried power and then called myself “Luka B” when ordering at the classy taco bell across the street after getting a glimpse of alexxx ryan in the flesh. (fav music)

now it’s december and my seasonal depression is a little worse than it’s been the past few years but i’m managing. still shipping and writing and i just got called out about ivan again last week. i’m 2 for 2 here! el clásico was boring but also it was gay and my heart my heart my heart ! Anything could happen in the last 10 days of this year and honestly...I’m pretty sure I’m ready.

Most importantly this year, despite it being not that great in a lot of ways, I developed a lot more self confidence, made many important realizations, and became a lot more peaceful (despite how this post makes me sound) and wiser and less bitter and pessimistic. And i became outspoken enough about antisemitism on the left to lose friends over it...3 for 3. i can’t say i’m displeased with these developments.

Hasta 2020! <3

#about me #originals #GPOY #2k19 you were...wow #17 #there are def awkward omitted words here i apologize

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thievinghippo · 6 years ago

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Fic Complete: The Longest Distance (100/100)

Fandom: The Adventure Zone

Pairing: Barry Bluejeans/Lup Taaco

Rating: Teen

Summary: “Time is the longest distance between two places.” - Tennessee Williams. 100 cycles. 100 moments. How Barry and Lup’s relationship evolves over 100 years.

Chapter Summary: The Longest Distance ends.

Notes: I’m legit tearing up at the thought of this fic being done. Thank you to everyone who has read and to everyone who has taken the time to reblog or comment. You all mean everything to me. A special thank you to @theherocomplex, whose yelling convinced me to give the podcast a try and who said ‘DO IT’ when I told her I had an idea for a fic...

(Read on Ao3!)

Cycle One Hundred

Now or never, Barry tells himself, which isn’t actually true. If not now? Most certainly later. So it might as well be now.

“Hey, Lup?”

Lup looks up from the report she’s reading and tucks some hair behind her ear. “Tell me you’re here to save me from these reports. I swear we do more reporting for the Raven Queen than we ever did for Davenport.”

“That’s cause Davenport let us slack off on reports after the first ten years or so,” Barry says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, hoping his courage doesn’t fail.

“Oh, right,” Lup says. “I kinda forgot about that part. Well,” she perks up as she tosses the report in the corner, “maybe the Raven Queen will be the same way. I’ll trade ten years of reporting for a lot of years of not reporting.”

Lup pats the seat next to her and Barry can’t think of any reason why he wouldn’t join her on the sofa. It’s the sofa from the science corner from the Starblaster, one of the first things they brought from the ship when they moved into their small home.

“So what’s up?” Lup asks as she hooks one of her legs over his knee.

He can do this. He can absolutely do this. “Well, Lup…” Barry takes a breath and prepares himself to ask one of the most important questions of his life. “Do you want to go on a picnic?”

The question has been on the tip of his tongue for months now. Originally, he wanted to ask the day Lup got her body back, almost a year ago. But then Killian and Carey announced their engagement and it just seemed rude to do the same thing at the same time.

So Barry waited. Waited patiently while listening to the couple talk about their plans for their future life together. Waited while he and Lup learned their new gig, working for the Raven Queen. Waited while they moved into a small house, a place for just the two of them.

A place full of tacky furniture and garish colors on the walls. A place where after more than ten years apart, Barry is lucky enough to fall asleep next to Lup almost every single night. A place they can finally call home.

And now Barry waits for Lup’s answer.

Lup smiles at him, the same smile just for him that made him fall in love with her a hundred years ago. The smile is answer enough, but even so, Barry’s heart thrills at her words. “I’d love to go on a picnic with you, Barry J. Bluejeans.”

“Yeah?” Barry asks, not able to help himself as he takes her hand.

“Always double checking your work,” Lup says as she straddles his lap.

They start to kiss and neither one of them break apart as the front door opens. Only one person doesn’t bother to knock.

“Gross,” Taako says. “Must you do that when children are watching?”

That’s enough for Barry and Lup to break apart. He looks over at Taako and Angus McDonald standing in the small foyer area.

“Hello, sir and ma’am,” Angus says with a wave of his hand. “We didn’t mean to interrupt-”

“Oh yes we absolutely did,” Taako says as he sweeps in the room. Barry supposes Taako must have been studying him and Lup, because he adds, suddenly sounding suspicious, “Why do you two look so happy?”

“Because we’re going on a picnic,” Lup says, putting her hand on Barry’s cheek.

“Sweet. I was gonna take Ango here to Fantasy Mickey D’s but that sounds so much better,” Taako says as he heads toward the kitchen. “I’ll have Kravitz meet us by that kick-ass field by the new Bureau of whatever it is she calls it now.”

Benevolence, as Taako very well knows, but that is not a fight Barry wants to have today of all days. So he lets it go.

Lup jumps up off of the couch and holds out her hands to help him up. Barry can see the question on her face, wondering if company is welcomed. So he grins, because they both know this isn’t the first private moment Taako’s interrupted and it won’t be the last.

“I’m just gonna add some things to the basket!” Taako yells from the kitchen.

“That sure of my answer, huh?” Lup whispers in his ear.

“I thought you liked it when I was confident,” Barry says softly back.

She winks at him and turns her attention to Angus. “My man, you have grown like a foot since the last time I saw you.”

Angus beams proudly. “I’ve grown a whole inch in the last three months. Mister Taako double checked the measurements to make sure.”

“Did he now?” Lup says. Barry can only chuckle as she completely fails to keep the smirk off her face. “That was very nice of him.”

“Oh, it really was, Miss Lup,” Angus says eagerly. “He’s even going to take me shoe shopping later.”

“Angus, that was supposed to be our little secret,” Taako says as he walks back into the room, the picnic basket on one arms. “But whatevs, the secret’s out.”

Just as the group is walking out the door, Barry sees Merle and Davenport heading towards them.

“Look who’s in town,” Merle says, waving towards Davenport.

“Cap’n Port!” Lup says as she rushes up to Davenport to give him a hug. “Oh it’s so good to see you.”

“Perfect timing. We’re going on a picnic and I’ve brought plenty of Barry and Lup’s food,” Taako says, patting the basket.

Merle and Davenport quickly join the walk to the park. Barry and Lup stay just a little bit behind the rest, holding hands. He can’t seem to stop looking at Lup and grinning like an idiot, which slows them down. Luckily the rest of the group doesn’t seem to care.

As they arrive at the park, Agnus starts to jump up and down. “There’s Mister Mangus and Miss Lucretia, sirs and ma’am,” he says. Barry glances over to the new Bureau of Benevolence headquarters. Sure enough, the two are standing and talking just outside the doors. “They’ll want to join, too.”

Without another word, Agnus takes off on a sprint.

“Must we?” Taako says as he examines his nails.

Lup elbows him in the side. “Yes, we must,” she says.

Barry gets it. He does. He thinks back to the last ten years, never having his memory when he had his human body, how strange that was. How horrible it was to not remember Lup. But somehow they all made it through the fire and maybe a little charity is in order.

This is also not the time for that conversation.

So Barry takes Lup’s hand again and they walk to a cluster of trees. A perfect spot for a picnic. Magnus and Lucretia arrive just as Barry’s laying down a couple of blankets. Taako’s taken over the food duties, naturally.

The meal is loud and messy and everything Barry could ever want from a picnic. After desert, Lup sits between his legs, so her back is flush against his chest.

“Think we should tell them the good news?” Lup whispers.

Barry thinks about the ring in his pocket and looks around at the craziness surrounding them. Taako has his head in Kravitz’s lap, while Magnus and Lucretia are talking about future good deeds. Merle is flipping through his Extreme Teen Bible as Davenport conjures an illusion for Agnus.

Their family. Their crazy, dysfunctional, loud, and most important, loving, family.

“Nah, not yet,” he finally says as he holds Lup just a little tighter. It’s so rare to have everyone all together like this these days, he doesn’t want to steal the focus just for him and Lup. So they can wait. They’ll have the rest of their lives, after all. “Let’s just enjoy this moment.”

#the adventure zone #the adventure zone: balance #barry bluejeans #lup taaco #blupjeans #the longest distance #hippo's fanfiction tag

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hightress · 6 years ago

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The Grumpy Cat And The Barista

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia

AO3 Link

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Pairing: Kiribaku, Bakushima

Characters: Kirishima, Bakugou, Todoroki, Jirou

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, writer Bakugou, Barista Kirishima Eijirou, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Crack, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Cat Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Quirks (My Hero Academia)

Chapters: 1/1

Word count: 5,796

Summary: In which Bakugou needs a place to write and learns that a Kitty Café is definitely not the best place to do it.

OK, so here's the deal. Bakugou didn't enjoy writing - not the act of it anyway. It took too much time and the rewards were too little to satisfy him. His back ached after a day in front of his computer and his eyes stung because of the screen. He hated it. If he could, he would've thrown the laptop out the window without any regrets. The only reason why he didn't was that, despite all pain and wasted time, it helped him.

He's never been a patient person and he just couldn't suffer to see or hear certain things sometimes and do nothing. It was so easy to get angry just by walking down the street. Just having someone bump into him and say nothing or hearing the screams of the still hangover students that lived close to him was more than enough to make him want to act, either by shouting back at them or punching something, even someone's face. And, apparently, that wasn't a normal reaction to have.

It wasn't Bakugou's problem that most people were too terrified to have an opinion.

So, if he couldn't react in real life as he wanted because, c'mon, being arrested for something as petty as a shouting contest or light punch was the furthest thing he needed in his life, he was going to do it somewhere else. In a place that he could control and punish people that annoyed him as he liked.

Of course, writing hadn't been his first choice. Or his tenth one. But it worked better than any sport ever could.

The paper listened and never judged. Never tried to fix him or nagged him to be a better person. Just took his anger, his harsh words and turned them into something.

"Die!" shouted Bakugou, using the pen in his hand like some sort of knife, leaving messy marks all over paper as he finished another paragraph. Alternating the computer with the old-school approach was a new thing, but it worked nevertheless.

A sigh could be heard from the other side of the room.

"Did you just kill me? Again?" asked Todoroki, voice full of exasperation. He was lying in his bed, messy hair coloring his light blue sheets and eyes closed. Exhausted was the best way to describe him at that moment, clearly stated by the dark circles under his eyes. Having an exam at 7 in the morning was tough and a small break after was understandable, but to someone like Bakugou, it felt like a complete waste of time.

Bakugou's only answer had been a snort. He's spent enough months with Todoroki since they've both moved in the flat at the beginning of the year to understand him properly and hate his guts.

(Not that it would've been difficult to get Bakugou to hate something.)

Whenever he looked at Todoroki, all he could think about was 'wasted potential'. Extremely smart, with enough family connections to make the university's attempts of getting the students decent placements seem like a joke, he had everything he needed to be the best in their year. He was close to the top, but for Bakugou the word 'close' ruined everything. Why be 'good' or 'decent' when you can be the best? The second place wasn't good enough. And would never be for Bakugou.

Bakugou could only dream about such connections and, for an aspiring lawyer, they were everything.

The saddest part was that Todoroki had so much more than that. Bakugou had seen him in action - defending a case, building it up. He was good. More than that, he was impressive, but only when he was serious about it.

So, yeah, Bakugou hated him and, since he couldn't punch Todoroki, killing him was a great alternative. After all, even his breathing pattern annoyed Bakugou sometimes - he wrote about it. And took it to the extreme.

"It's the third time in four chapters, isn't it? If you ever hope to publish that, don't you think your readers will complain?" asked Todoroki, not impressed by the act itself. He got used to Bakugou's antics after the first two months. Getting murdered in a fictional story wasn't that fascinating.

Bakugou answered immediately in the only way he knew how to communicate - loudly.

"They'd rather thank me for getting rid of your stupid ass," he shouted. "Now shut up, you piece of shit. I need to focus on this."

Todoroki opened one eye to look at him.

"Do you even want it to be published? Is there some action besides the random killing?" Both were legit questions. And Bakugou had no idea how to answer either of them.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Say one more word and I'll make it four times. Don't test me," he threatened, fingers tightly clenched around the pen, ready to keep his word.

Todoroki didn't say anything after that, just closed his eyes and rolled over, his back facing Bakugou.

For a good full minute, Bakugou really believed he fell asleep.

"You know," he suddenly spoke again, startling Bakugou and breaking the illusion, not moving an inch. "If you really want to write, maybe you can do it in a place where it'll be easier for you to concentrate."

Which could've translated as 'I want to sleep and you're screaming too much'. Or not. It didn't matter.

Despite what a huge part of him wanted - which was to shout some more at Todoroki or even throw some ink in his face - Bakugou considered his proposal. It didn't sound that bad.

"Like where?"

He didn't know what he expected, but having Todoroki deep in thought for a period of time too long to be socially acceptable only to blurt out a weak "A park...?" definitely wasn't it.

"A park?" repeated Bakugou. "Are you dumb, assface?" When Todoroki said nothing in his defence, Bakugou explained "There are hundreds of kids in there. Hundreds of loud, bitchy little shits. Fuck no, I'm not going there."

Why did he even try to ask someone like Todoroki in the first place? His social skills were disastrous and that, coming from Bakugou, meant something. He still found himself asking further.

"Any other ideas, genius?"

After another short pause, Todoroki answered, even though his confidence in his own words was just as absent as the previous time.

"Maybe... Maybe a coffee shop?" he said, clearly aware of how unhelpful the suggestion was for someone like Bakugou. For any other person, a place like that might've worked, but surrounding Bakugou with gossiping teenagers and filling him with caffeine? Bad combination.

"Like every single loser? Classic. You're so fucking useless," said Bakugou as he sat up. He grabbed all his papers and his laptop, shoving them all a bit too aggressively in a backpack.

None of them doubted the state of the papers inside - horribly folded and almost ripped in two or three places. Another thing that made the bag heavier than necessary was a law textbook that Bakugou intended to finish by the end of the week. End of exams be damned, he refused to fall behind. That way, if he didn't feel like writing, he was sure as hell not going to waste time like a fucking wimp.

Throwing his backpack over his shoulder, he looked one last time at Todoroki's back and shouted for good measure, just to be an asshole.

"Enjoy your damn nap!"

He closed the door with a loud 'bang' and left the building one minute after that, still undecided about where he was headed. He contemplated going to the library - it would've been quieter at least - but, at the same time, since it was part of the university, he knew the chances of meeting someone that knew him were pretty high. And he definitely didn't feel like dealing with any of them, especially when he was working on something so personal.

Todoroki finding out had been an accident, to begin with. He didn't want to share his written work with anyone. It was his business, ok? If he felt like murdering people, it was his fucking decision. The last thing he wanted was some moron's opinion about how he should be doing things.

So, yeah, he had no idea where to go, but that's what Google Maps was for, right? He'd only need to type 'café' once and decide on one close enough.

(Todoroki's idea still sucked. But Bakugou couldn't think of anything more decent and he didn't have time to waste on something so stupid.)

The maps would've been a wonderful option. Incredible even. Sadly, because Bakugou had to be Bakugou, he forgot to charge his phone the day before.

"Of-fucking-course," he muttered under his breath shoving the phone in one of his pockets. He had no other choice but to walk around like a freaking tourist hoping to find something where he could work in peace.

Surprisingly enough, after fifteen minutes of searching like a retard, all he managed to find was a bakery (which was a huge no) and a place that only sold bagels. Again, a huge no.

It took him ten more minutes to reach a building that had 'Café' written in huge, bold letters above the door and when he saw it, he didn't bother to read what was placed before or after any other shit. He was thirsty and annoyed and tired and even if he hadn't actually wanted a drink before, he sure as hell wanted one then.

The second he stepped inside, he realized he made a mistake.

There was purple - everywhere. Purple cushions, purple pillows, purple uniforms, purple toys. Yes, fucking toys, for cats because - guess what - there were cats all over the damn place.

Did Bakugou mention that he couldn't stand cats? They were whiny and needy and lame and he couldn't care less. How people managed to live with them and not murder them in the middle of the goddamn night was a fucking miracle.

He was already turning around, ready to leave the place and go write on the bus or some other shit like that, when one of the people working there had the audacity to talk to him. And Bukugou, being his usual self, didn't listen to any word the person said. However, as soon as the other finished the sentence or question or whatever, because Bakugou had been raised to be polite enough, he moved his head to the side to shout his usual 'Fuck off' before exiting the building, only to swallow his words when his eyes met the person that addressed him.

And what left his mouth had been a non-contained shout of "What the hell is that?", followed by an awkward silence.

Everyone stared at him, unmoving. Funny how the entire atmosphere of the shop changed in a millisecond because of something he did. He didn't give a fuck.

The person that got that reaction out of him didn't frown, didn't complain about the volume or anything like that. He just sat next to the desk at the entrance, looking at Bakugou with confusion.

"That wasn't very specific, man." said the guy, tilting his head to the side. Not that Bakugou followed the movement, still too intrigued (and disgusted) by the top of the other's head, unable to tear his eyes away from the weird shape found there.

"Do you call that hair?" asked Bakugou, his volume high and words unfiltered. But how could he do anything but that when that haircut (did he really pay for that shit?) was such a disgrace to human nature?

It was red, but not any kind of red, that type that literally jumped in your face and attacked you with the intensity of the colour. The worst part, however, was its entire form. Hair wasn't supposed to work like that - spikes of different sizes defying gravity and looking like an absolute mistake.

Why were they all staring at him like he just killed Jesus when his question was so fucking valid? They couldn't have not thought about it at least once in their sorry lives. If they thought he was rude, they were either used to lying to themselves or plain stupid.

Judging from the place they were at, either working or fucking around, it could've been both.

Only one person in the entire damn shop didn't seem to take it to heart. The single damn guy that had the right to actually feel attacked.

"Yeah. Isn't it cool?" he asked, smiling brightly and genuinely, as of Bakugou had just complimented, not only his hair, but every single thing about him. His eyes (also red because of course they had to be) were sparkling, for fuck's sake.

How the hell was Bakugou supposed to react to this? He couldn't scream 'I just insulted you, moron. Why the fuck are you so happy about it?'. Actually, he could, but he didn't want or need to make conversation or some shit like that.

So he settled for the better alternative. A growled, "It looks like something died in there."

Not even that kind of comment wiped the smile from the bastard's face. "Never thought of it that way. But it's a good thing, right?" It was unnerving.

Definitely not, thought Bakugou, gritting his teeth.

Was the guy on drugs? Before Bakugou could think this through, the other's grin only widened, if that was even possible. He scanned Bakugou from head to toe and exclaimed "Love your shirt, man. Is it from Forbidden Planet?"

Bakugou instinctively looked down at himself. To be honest, he had forgotten what he had thrown on himself in the morning. It was a normal occurrence - it was black and loose, that's all he needed to know. There was a skull on the front, contrasting heavily with the dark background. It was sick. Bakugou loved it, but that didn't explain this stranger's enthusiasm regarding it. Or what that Forbidden Planet place was.

He hated not understanding things.

"Huh?" he asked, or, more exactly, emitted with confusion. The sound was loud enough to make the person next to him cringe at the volume, but, somehow, it got covered completely by another voice, this time from one of the losers working there.

"Kirishima!" shouted a girl, her headphones hanging around her neck. The guy turned towards her instantly. "Are you going to do your job or not?"

He didn't grimace, didn't show any specific remorse. Just stayed as a sunny beam of bullshit.

"Yeah, sorry. In a second," the guy promised and looked at Bakugou once again. "It's an awesome shop two streets away from here. Definitely worth checking out," he explained before quickly adding: "By the way, I'm supposed to ask - do you have a reservation?"

"Was I supposed to?" Reservations were stupid and why the hell would he even make one? He didn't intend to stay anyway, not with all that purple and the constant meowing of hundreds (more like fifteen, but who was he to count) of cats.

Kirishima - the red tornado guy of sunshine - didn't seem to get the memo. "It's kind of a rule. Don't worry though, we have enough space at the moment. Just wait for a second and I'll fetch you a table."

"I don't need a damn table," mumbled Bakugou, his words muffled by the cries of three or four cats that decided to open their goddamn mouths in that exact same moment. It wasn't surprising at all that Kirishima didn't hear anything from him with all that noise.

He simply grabbed Bakugou's elbow (who the hell did that to a stranger, what the fuck?) as gently as possible, while still having a pretty strong hold on him and manoeuvring him around the café as if he was a bag of chips. Which, he, obviously, wasn't. It wasn't that big of a shop anyway and, in the 20-30 seconds it took them to move around it, Bakugou realized a couple things.

First of all, the guy needed to fucking let go of him or he was going to end up dead for real, not just on paper. Or cremated or some other shit. Second of all, having 'enough space' was a freaking lie. They barely had a chair to spare and the ones that were available had at least one cat acting like a complete brat on top of them. There was even a table where a guy had been forced to sit on the stairs next to his friends in order to let one of those furred fuckers to keep his seat. Such a wimp. If he allowed an animal to order him around and control his life, he definitely deserved to be called a loser.

And, lastly, why did these people have a perfectly fine table for two in the far corner of the shop unoccupied when it was so clear that they were overcrowded? Because that's exactly where Kirishima took him.

"Is this ok with you, man?" he had asked as he positioned Bakugou right in front of the table, his hands tapping twice his shoulders before letting him go.

Bakugou, uncharacteristically, didn't comment on the gesture, too confused about being moved around and touched so familiarly to function as he normally would - with a lot of trashing around and screams and murder promises. Not that he couldn't get to that later, as soon as he snapped out of it.

"Whatever," he said instead, moving his head to the side, not wanting to stare at Kirishima more than necessary. He wanted him gone already. Having him this close made Bakugou feel like he was slightly suffocating.

And some God above must've pitied him enough to answer his wish.

"I'll take that as a yes then," said Kirishima and smiled. "Sadly, I have to go and help some other customers, but I'll be back to you shortly. Order anything you want, I promise they are all good."

After that, he left, and Bakugou found himself standing next to the table he's been led to, no knowing how to react. But it would've been weird to chose that moment to get out of that place, especially after his interaction with Kirishima. He knew that. That's why he decided to stay, nothing more, nothing less. As he lowered himself to his seat, he noted the softness of the pillow stuck to the chair. It might've been coloured like a glowing unicorn skin, but he couldn't really deny its comfiness.

The menu was placed neatly in the centre of the table and, from the looks of it, was going to stay there for the rest of the day. Call him picky or whatever, but he wasn't going to touch something that had pink lettering, badly pixelated as well, on top of a violet pattern of a cat in heat. (It had hearts instead of eyes, sue him for having an opinion. It was a horrifying image anyway.)

He took his time to lay down his things, taking in the whole atmosphere of the shop. After all, if he wanted to work there, he needed to decide if it was possible to focus with all of the continuous noise and movement involved. It wasn't as bad as he initially thought, the loudest thing to be heard were the voices of the employers and even they didn't give Bakugou an excuse to get lost. The only apparent problem remained the cats - the most volatile subject included in the equation. He didn't know what to expect, if any of them scratched or if they were going to leave hair all over his things if he turned around for merely a second. At that hour, most of them seemed to be asleep, only two or three walking around the shop with their tails high in the air like some self-declared divas. Only one cared for human touch, the others running away before they were even approached.

Bakugou didn't blame them. He would've done the same after he made them bleed if he had sharp pointy things at the end of his fingers and someone had nothing better to do than to annoy him.

Even after he had the whole table turned into his own personal desk, he didn't start, just kept looking around, not sure himself what for. All he knew was that his eyes kept looking back at the strange guy from before, either by accident or attracted by the energy in his voice.

He was entertaining to watch, to say at least. And his hair was starting to feel less and less like the worst part. As soon as he noticed the uniform, he flinched, unsure how he had missed it before. One would think that by that point Bakugou might've gotten used to the colours, but that definitely wasn't the case when he felt like tearing his own eyes out just by glancing twice at the pink and violet paw patterns placed all over their aprons. The silver glitter didn't make it any better. All of that - including the mandatory fake cat ears that everyone working there seemed to wear - had the potential to work on a girl. It was girly, it made sense, and it could be seen clearly in the shop since most of the employers were of the opposite sex, but on a male like that Kirishima? He didn't get it.

It seemed like a bad marketing strategy.

Bakugou could see muscles under that shirt, decent ones nevertheless. Why have something like that hidden just because their stupid uniform demanded it?

As soon as he remarked this, looking away became even more difficult. He had to force himself to move his attention back to his work and, even when he did, it took him a few minutes to focus properly. After that, it was easy to lose himself in his words, paragraph after paragraph lying there one after the other, bloody and way too descriptive for a simple therapeutic piece of writing.

He had little over a page finished by the time he got interrupted and a much calmer mind to deal with the rest of the world.

"Hey," said Kirishima, appearing from his left, a small notebook in his hands. Once again, too casual, too close, too soon. "Sorry, that took a while. What would you like me to bring you?"

Bakugou stared at his face, silent for a few moments, still trapped somewhere between his the place built by his words and where his body was actually placed. It was a weird feeling, not bad exactly, just difficult to describe. When he managed to answer, Kirishima was already looking at him with something close to concern in those red eyes of his.

"I don't care," he said and, despite the harsh wording, his tone was soft, as if he breathed the words out, not said them.

It was unusual, wasn't it? To answer something like that. Kirishima didn't seem to mind this either.

"Oh. Do you need more time or do you want me to recommend something?"

How could he be so patient?

"I'm not sure I trust your taste," replied Bakugou, not intending to be rude, but stating something he felt the need to let out.

"Don't worry, dude. I've got you," said Kirishima cheerily, closing the notebook and throwing it in one of his back pockets. "I'm assuming you're not into the whole extra-cream-extra-sweet thing, so maybe you'd like Jirou's orange espresso. Or her chocolate ones. Or the ones with a bit of caramel in the mix. Your call."

Who the fuck is Jirou?

"They all sound terrible. What do you make? Or are you here just as some sort of mascot?"

"I make the tea. The manager doesn't really let me try more than that after last week's accident."

Did he even want to know about the incident? Probably not. Tea definitely didn't sound too bad compared to the other drinks.

"If I order one would you let me be?" he asked, wanting to be left alone. He had things to do and didn't have the time to chat with strangers.

And Kirishima... He... He had the fucking audacity to wink at him.

"We'll see."

Why wasn't Kirishima acting like a stranger towards him? It was weird for so many reasons. All those jokes and interest were happening too suddenly and Bakugou wasn't able to catch up with all of it. Was he acting like this with all customers or did it happen to be Bakugou's (un)lucky day?

Bakugou followed him with his eyes for a while, craving the answer to this question. Kirishima did talk a lot and whenever he approached a table, his smile grew wider and, in the back of his mind, Bakugou kind of wanted to touch his face and see if it was real or not. It looked real and, when Kirishima did it in front of him, it kind of felt real as well.

In all honesty, if Bakugou could admit something out loud, it was that he was selfish enough to want the smiles Kirishima gave him to be different than the rest. All those people, they had friends and family smiling at them like that every day. Bakugou didn't. He never thought he would want it, but he did. He really did.

People were scared of him or, at best, their smiles were mostly teasing, born out of boredom. He didn't fucking need teasing or anything as shallow as that. He wanted something truthful. Something real.

Bakugou didn't touch the paper. Didn't write a damn word. Just kept looking from the corner he was seated in, eyes widening whenever he saw Kirishima glance his way. It wasn't as rare as he would've expected but definitely not as much as his ego needed.

Sadly, it wasn't just Bakugou who craved his attention. Two cats were playing between his legs, purring and placing their tiny paws on his dark jeans, doing everything in their power to make Kirishima give them a few seconds of his time. He did it with the widest grin on his face, stopping mid-sentence during his conversation with a customer, and picked them up both, placing their cute fluffy heads on his chest as his arms carried them without a problem.

The contrast between the solid muscle and the gentleness of the gesture made Bakugou want to bark at the scene.

He wasn't jealous of a cat. He wasn't. That would've been idiotic.

"So..." started a feminine voice, interrupting his line of thought. "Do you want the tea now or should I come back later, once you're done trying to skin Kirishima alive with your eyes?"

It was the girl from before, the one with the short pixie-cut and headphones. Her tone had been a mix between monotonous and amused, her mouth forced into a straight line and her eyes full of mischief. Bakugou didn't know her and definitely didn't want to, but he sure as hell wasn't going to stay silent at her accusation.

"What's your problem?"

"I've been standing here for a full minute trying to figure out how to serve the tea Kirishima made for you, but you were too busy making lovey-dovey eyes at him to notice." Before he could explode, she kept talking. "Do you want it or not."

"Of course I do." he raged, taking the cup out of her hands. Which might've not been the most polite or normal move, he could give her that, but it was too late to excuse his sudden action. "And I never make that lovey-dovey shit. What the hell?"

Her nose made one of those movements - getting all wrinkly on one side in a judgemental way - and she stared at him flatly as she spoke again.

"You're quite the poet, aren't you?"

"And you're quite a bitch."

(The comeback of the century, wasn't it?)

She rolled her eyes so hard it must've hurt. "I have no idea why I expected Kirishima to be attracted to someone normal this time," she said to no-one. She threw him another short glance. "Definitely not the case."

That was the moment in which Bakugou would've probably cracked her skull open. Fictionally, obviously, he wasn't a barbarian. He didn't, however, because he kept replaying the first half of her words.

It must've shown on his face because she snorted and said: "You can't possibly be that blind."

Despite the insult, he couldn't really comment on it. Not when his brain was suddenly working like a maniac, trying to see what kind of gestures could've given the girl that impression.

Had it been the touching or the familiarity in his way of talking? Or maybe the wink, that one definitely seemed out of place, considering the fact that they've just met. It was difficult to tell.

"So, jerkface," the girl addressed him again. "Do you want his number or not?"

He could've said no without missing a single beat. His hesitation to do so was speaking volumes. He wasn't thinking about any storyline or character or action-packed scene full of blood and gore, no. Instead, he kept looking less and less discretely at Kirishima, his eyes tracing those impressive arms and back that simply seemed to jump out of that stupid shirt, only to go back to his contagious smile. If it hadn't been to that smile, Bakugou was sure he would've been outside long before the girl opened her mouth. Or he would've scoffed and mumbled a short 'fuck no', before ignoring her. But, as the situation stood, he couldn't say that he was against the idea.

Bakugou hadn't been honest with himself earlier when he insisted on being left alone. The guy intrigued him. His brightness - God, it sounded so idiotic to call it that - was something he couldn't comprehend. He wanted to know more. Wanted to understand how it worked and how he could smile so much and be so open, even to people he did not know.

The girl gave him all the time in the world to make up his mind, not rushing him in the slightest. Secretly, he was thankful for that.

He moved his head to the side, seeing another one of those furry creatures blinking repeatedly as if trying hard not accommodate their eyes to the light. Served them right for sleeping so much. Brats.

As if possessed by something, Bakugou found himself almost smiling at the image. Somehow, the stillness of the cat calmed him. It was weird, he knew.

It's just a number, anyway. It's not like I have to call the guy.

(Yeah, he probably wouldn't call. But messaging was another thing entirely.)

He raised his chin towards the girl and, with a new and probably strangely placed determination, he said: "Give it to me."

She did. After a few threats, of course, but who was Bakugou to listen when he had so many other things to focus on? (Apparently, she also mentioned some sort of entrance fee that Kirishima forgot to tell him about or ask for, which was outrageous. Bakugou thought he heard the price and he really wished he hadn't. Thank fuck he had only ordered some pitiful tea. His wallet wouldn't have been able to cover anything else.)

The girl left his table soon after that. Bakugou didn't hesitate. He drank the tea as if it was a shot of tequila, not a mix of hot water and leaves, and threw the amount of money he owed Kirishima on the table, as he sat up. Didn't wait for Kirishima to approach him again and collected his things in silence.

He noticed those red eyes follow his movements and he stared right back at him, this time without any hesitation. His steps were loud and firmly placed on the ground as he moved towards Kirishima. When he got close enough, he stopped for a second, barely enough to say a sentence.

"You'd better check your phone, asshole." No smirk was added at the end of it. No smile or anything else. He said it bluntly, in the most serious way he could muster.

Because if he was going to do this, it had to be a serious matter. He didn't do flings. He didn't do relationships either and, if it, by any chance, was going to end up in that direction, it had to start the right way.

Kirishima's face stayed blank for a few moments, probably taken aback by Bakugou's sudden change of attitude. Or by how cryptic his words were when thrown in his face like that. It didn't take long, though, and his face erupted in one of the most blinding smiles Bakugou had ever seen. So fucking bright it could've probably made any lamp feel incredibly useless.

"Sure thing, man," he said, his voice rich and full of life. He patted Bakugou on the shoulder twice, the strength of his arm easy to remark without it being too much for Bakugou to handle. He quite liked having that kind of weight on his, pressed on his skin.

Their eyes stayed connected for a bit longer, a few seconds at most, before both of them moved away, Kirishima turning his body halfway towards the customers he's been talking to before Bakugou interrupted him, and Bakugou continuing his walk out the door.

Nothing stopped him this time.

He glanced at the door before he let go of it, seeing Kirishima's vibrant hair colour even though the dirty mirror, the sound of it closing being louder than he anticipated.

He stayed there for a bit, right in front of the coffee shop, blocking the entrance, his phone still in his hand, the contact list visible to anyone who passed by him. And there, right in the middle of the pace, two centimeters away from his thumb, stood Kirishima's name.

Well, not actually his name, but a nickname Bakugou saw fit. 'Shitty hair' - what a horrible nickname. But Bakugou liked it.

Despite everything that happened that day, the stupid nickname did it. It made him smile. Properly. So brutally genuine it should've made him sick.

As he moved his thumb across the screen, he realized something. He didn't regret going inside that coffee shop. At all. Not even 0.001% of him.

He tossed the phone back in his pocket and started to use his feet. The laptop on his back was heavy enough to be a constant reminder of the reason why he left the house, but Bakugou didn't feel like writing anymore.

He wasn't in the mood to murder anyone at that moment. Just wanted to go home, throw himself on the bed and shout at Todoroki to get the fuck out of his room so he could text Kirishima without any distractions.

He liked this plan. He really, really liked this plan

73 notes · View notes

solangelover · 7 years ago

Note

um id write this myself but im not a great writer... i NEED a fanfic where the nico bean is crying in his cabin because he got hurt during training and its a lot worse than he let on and then the will bean walks in and sees him crying and immediately goes into concerned doctor mode tm and could you please write this for me i cant survive without it

A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. It took sometime to figure out because Nico is tough and doesn’t cry over small injuries.But here it is :)

Read on AO3 or FF.Net or Wattpad

Nico was learning to live at CampHalf-Blood. He was still getting used to waking up for breakfast, though hewould usually skip it if he really didn’t want to care that day. He was stilltrying to figure out why people enjoyed singing obnoxiously at the camp fireevery night.

The one thing he knew he’d always likewas training. Any kind of training made Nico feel good. He felt useful andactive, and he didn’t have to talk to anyone unnecessarily. Nico’s favoritesparring opponents, besides Jason and Percy, were the Ares kids. They had themost fire and trained just as much as he did. Those who were all talk and hadlittle skill Nico enjoyed putting down quickly, the only way to tell a child ofAres that tact and training was actually important.

Any of the older Ares campers usuallyliked to spar with Nico. They were mature enough to appreciate all that Nicodid in the wars and were only slightly afraid of him. Today, Nico was sparringwith Chase, a son of Ares that was bigger and stronger than Nico. Not that thatever stopped him before.

“Pretty good, Di Angelo,”Chase said while wiping sweat off his forehead. They had been going at it for abit, both enjoying the burn in their muscles.

“Same to you.” Nico wasprobably a bit more tired than Chase, seeing as he had to use his speed to movearound quickly. He couldn’t overpower Chase even if he tried, so dodging andjabbing had been his strategy. Unfortunately, that left him tired, and hissword arm had already been hurting before training, probably from avoidingtreatment in the infirmary. It was only to spite Will, who had beenparticularly overbearing that week. Or maybe Nico had just had a bad week andcouldn’t take the nagging. Hard to tell.

As Nico and Chase did their dance fora bit longer, Nico’s weariness began to slow him down and caused more and moreclose calls. At one point, Chase slashed down at Nico, an easy enough move toparry. Unfortunately, Nico couldn’t move fast enough to counter or dodge, sothe sword ended up making contact. He more saw the sword slice his arm thanfelt it as it cut into his skin. Dammit,was really all Nico could think in the moment.

Nico fell back onto the ground asblood gushed out of his wound. Chase almost seemed surprised that Nico fell,standing above him for a moment in shock.

“Oh shit,” is how Chasecleverly reacted. Then he noticed the wound. “Oh shit.”

“Nice battle, Chase.” Nicocringed at the tightness in his voice. He didn’t usually outwardly show hispain, and he had a high pain tolerance anyway, but his arm currently felt likeit was on fire. The moment he hit the ground, the wound began stinging andthrobbing and burning all at once. He’d had his fair share of sword training-relatedinjuries, but this one hurt the most by far for some reason. It had a lot ofblood coming out, but generally it looked pretty typical. Nothing out of theordinary in the training arena.

“Dude, are you okay? That’s a lotof blood there.” Chase looked slightly concerned, probably because hewasn’t used to winning against Nico di Angelo, let alone landing a hit.

“Uh, yeah, no, it’s fine. It’sjust a surface wound. Looks worse than it is.” Nico could barely pick uphis sword from where he dropped it and put it back in its sheath, but whatever.He struggled to stand for a second before Chase offered his hand, which Nicogratefully accepted. Once on his feet, a few black spots danced in his visionwith the amount of pain in his arm, but he managed to stay upright.

“You need help going to theinfirmary?” Funny how Chase assumed he’d be going there. Nico guessed anysensible person would. He probably should.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks for thespar.” Nico stumbled over to a shadow and disappeared before anyone coulddo anything.

—

Nico landed with a thud on the floorof his cabin.

“Ugh,” Nico mumbled into hisfloor, “This isn’t the infirmary, Nico.”

In hindsight, he probably shouldn’thave shadow travelled. Now his head hurt and he felt even dizzier than he had atthe arena. He momentarily forgot about the injury and moved his arm to sit up.Unfortunately, he was painfully reminded as a new wave of blood began to flowfrom his wound, accompanied by a sharp sting shooting up his arm. It was sobad, Nico actually felt tears prick the back of his eyes.

He attempted to stand, but he was intoo much pain and his muscles were still tired from sparring.

After lying on the ground for minute,Nico readied himself to move. He carefully pushed himself up with his good armand crawled over to his bed. Using his bed frame, he pulled himself to his feetand stood there for another minute. His head was still spinning and his musclesstill burned, but he somehow made it to his bathroom. He was vaguely aware ofblood dripping down his arm onto the floor, but he didn’t have the mind to careat the moment.

When he looked up at himself in themirror, it wasn’t a pretty sight. He looked paler than usual, making the darkcircles under his eyes stand out. His black hair was sticking to his face fromsweat. And his arm. It looked horrible now. It had fresh red blood all over andsome yellowish liquid as well, which didn’t make Nico feel better. He couldn’tactually see the wound due to the blood, so he knew he had to wash it off.

Nico carefully moved his arm under hissink faucet, wincing as he did so. He slowly turned the water on, letting itrun over the part of his arm without the wound. He lightly rubbed off the bloodaround the cut, finally putting it under the water. He hissed, pain shooting uphis arm. Tears sprung from his eyes as he attempted to clean away the blood. Hewas surprised at how much it hurt since it really shouldn’t be this bad. He wasonly sparring after all.

When most of the blood was gone, Nicofinally saw the cut - it did not look good. It was an angry red color andswollen. Along with the redness, it looked yellowish white inside the wound.Really it just looked gross and Nico had no idea why.

Then he noticed the other marks aroundhis wound. His scars and stitches Will gave him for the scratches from Lycaonwere red and reopened. Which probably explained why it hurt so much.

Well. Will was going to kill him.

As if on cue, Nico’s cabin door burstopen and the son of Apollo marched right in. When he got to the bathroom, Nicolooked up and made eye contact with him. Will saw the tears spilling fromNico’s eyes right away and knew that this was more than a typical sparringinjury. Will’s expression change immediately from anger to concern. His eyeslanded on the wound and Doctor Mode™ activated.

“That wound is infected. It needs tobe treated right now.” Will’s stern doctor voice told Nico that the injury wasworse than he thought.

“I know, that’s what I’m doing,Solace.” Nico’s voice was shaky and not as strong as he had hoped it would be.He didn’t even know why he tried to pretend he was fine. His arm felt like itwas on fire and he was sweating profusely, not to mention his dizziness.

Will took two strides to reach Nico,his eyes never leaving the wound. “You need more than water, idiot. You needmedicine. You need to come to the infirmary. Now.” Then he looked up intoNico’s eyes. Nico could see that, behind the doctor concern, there was realconcern for Nico’s well-being. He suddenly regretted getting himself into thissituation and upsetting Will.

“I—“ Nico began to say something,though he wasn’t sure what, but got cut off.

“The infection is in your bloodstream. Your immune system can’t handle it without help.” Will reached forwardto put a hand on Nico’s forehead before Nico could even react. He didn’t seemto mind that it was wet with sweat. “You’re already running a fever. And I canfeel some darkness in you. You shadow-traveled here didn’t you?” Nico openedhis mouth to reply, but Will didn’t let him get a word in. “You’re gettingweaker every second. We need to go, now. Can you walk?”

Nico nodded, which made him dizzier,and took one step before swaying and almost falling over if not for Will’ssteady hand on his good arm.

“Never mind.” And with that, Willscooped Nico up in his arms, told Nico to hold his injured arm steady, andwalked quickly to the infirmary. Nico didn’t dare complain, one because Willwas in Doctor Mode™ and nothing would sway him, and two because he was weak andtired and this was nice.

When they got to the infirmary, Nicowould’ve immediately passed out on the bed, but Will said, “Nico, please stayawake for a bit longer. I know you want to sleep, but I need to make sureyou’re good before you rest.”

Will gently rubbed a salve on Nico’sarm that made it go numb. Then he set to work, doing things Nico didn’t care tokeep track of. He felt a dull pain, but he was so sleepy and feverish that hedidn’t care anymore. Nico vaguely remembered Will saying that he could sleepbefore his eyes were finally too heavy to keep open.

—

When Nico came to, he felt gross. Withhis eyes still closed, he could tell that his bed was a bit damp from all hissweat. He felt cold now, so the fever must’ve broke while he slept. That wasgood.

He reflexively moved his arms to shiftin bed and found that his injured arm felt okay. It wasn’t perfect, there wasstill dull pain, but nothing like what it was. He did feel something weird onhis arm though, so he finally cracked his eyes open.

It was probably afternoon time,meaning he slept for a while. That happened pretty often when he was sent tothe infirmary for legitimate reasons (Nico doesn’t consider Will’s littlecheck-ups legitimate). Nico looked down at his arm and found it had thisplastic thing on it, almost like a dog cone.

“What the…” Nico mumbled as he satmore upright. That’s when he noticed Will slumped in the chair by his bed. Hemust’ve stayed to make sure Nico woke up. It was both endearing and annoying toNico that Will put himself through these things for him.

At that moment, Will stirred, his eyesslowly opening. When he registered that Nico was up, he bolted up out of hisseat. “Nico! Oh gods, are you okay???” He looked Nico up and down, assessinghis health quickly. He put a hand on Nico’s forehead. “Oh good, your fever isgone. How do you feel? You’ve slept for like a day. Are you hungry? Does yourarm still sting? Does your head hurt?”

Nico was used to this little freak outthing Will did. As a doctor, he’s usually calm, but for some reason Nico alwaysgot frantic doctor-Will. Probably because he always had bad injuries. “Will,I’m fine. Thanks to you. But why do I have this thing on my arm?” He lifted hisarm slightly, glad that it didn’t hurt to move it.

“Oh, that. You were scratching yourarm in your sleep, so I had to cover it so you didn’t reopen the wound. Orshould I say, wounds.” As if Willsuddenly remembered why Nico was this injured in the first place, his demeanorchanged into the upset but caring friend that he was to Nico. Not Nico’sfavorite side.

Nico only smiled sheepishly, awaitingthe lecture he’d known was coming.

“Nicodi Angelo. First of all, you didn’t come to the infirmary yesterdaymorning, or the mornings before that, for your check up on your summerinjuries. I told you that they’re almost, butnot completely, done healing. This thing might not have been so infected ifyou had come in.” Will put his hands on his hips, his anger rising a bit as hereached the next part of the lecture. “Second, why in Hades didn’t you come straight here after the match?? I know thatyou know that you should have. A wound this bad must have hurt a lot prettyquickly.” Nico hated it when Will was right. “You wouldn’t have felt like shitif you’d come quickly. Or accepted Chase’s help in getting you here. Yeah,shadow-traveling when you’re not totally healed was a way better idea.” Will rarely swore, even mildly, and used sarcasmwith patients, so Nico knew he was in trouble. Will just looked at Nico,waiting for him to say something. Probably the wrong thing.

“In my defense,” Will quirked aneyebrow at him, “I had kinda meant to shadow-travel here. I just… missed.” Nicowasn’t trying to justify his actions. That was the only thing that came tomind.

“You’re an absolute idiot. Want toknow why it hurt so much?” Nico nodded. He was wondering about that. “It’sbecause you reopened the Lycaon scratches. Let me remind you that Lycaon is avery dangerous and powerful being, and fighting him could have easily killedyou. So, having reopened those with a dirty sword was not very good for yourhealth. The infection spread quickly, which is why you had a fever and weredizzy. And that’s adding on to the dizziness you already feel from shadow-traveling.”Will sat down after all that, sighing as he said, “I’m just glad you’re betternow. Chase had come to me and told me what happened right when you disappeared.He probably knew you weren’t coming here.”

When they made eye contact, Nico couldsee that Will’s sharp gaze had softened. He felt bad for causing such a fuss.He really had no good reason to, it was just his natural tendency to deal withhis own problems. Now, people actually cared and wanted to actively help him.It was still relatively new to Nico.

Nico looked away from Will. “Sorry. Ididn’t mean to worry you. I swear I wasn’t avoiding you or anything, I reallydon’t know why I didn’t come here… I just… I don’t know.” Nico was looking downat his hands in his lap. Will reached out and gently placed his hands overNico’s, causing Nico to look up at him. Will understood that Nico was stilllearning to trust others. Will gave him a small, understanding smile. Nicoreturned the gesture and continued. “But thanks for healing me. So, I’m goodnow?”

Will stretched and stood up. “Uh, no.You’re stuck here for three days, Death Boy. This is to take care of thatwound, which you will NOT be reopening ever again, and to punish you for youridiotic actions. I swear, I’m gonna have to start monitoring you at all timessoon enough.” Nico didn’t really think that last part sounded too bad, but hekept that too himself.

As Will walked away to get food, Nicosighed, settling back into his pillows. He was going to be here awhile. But, aslong as Will was there, he guessed it wouldn’t be too bad.

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICO!!! Also I don’t knowhow infections work *shrugs*

#my post #my answer #my writing #i'm so sorry #this ask was forever ago #but I've been thinking about it the whole time #introvertedannika #please still love me #solangelo #solangelo fanfiction #fanfic #will solace #nico di angelo #pjo #hoo #toa #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #Trials of Apollo

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bronzeflower · 7 years ago

Text

Who The Fuck Writes A Ten-Page Rant?????

Chapter 14: Hair Dye and Compliments

Also on ao3

“Yo, Roxy. How would you feel about being in one of my videos?” You ask the next day. “I recently got to, like, a shit ton of subscribers, and Jade suggested doing a video collab.”

“I would LOVE to be in one of your videos, but I’m not sure if I’m the best candidate for a subscriber milestone video. I'm not exactly famous. Also, don’t people usually do a giveaway or some shit?”

“I already did a giveaway video recently, and I don’t really want to do that again so soon. It took way too much work,” You explain. “Also you're already here, so we could do an impromptu collab video if you’re up for it.”

"Hmmmm," Roxy thought for a moment, but it wasn't nearly as long of a pause as you expected. "Sure! I'll do some kind of impromptu video with you. But what does your channel do? I wasn't joking when I said I didn't really know about your channel, which is really weird because it's your fucking job, and, as your older sister, I really should know this by now."

"Hey, hey, don't beat yourself up about it. It's all good. Anyway, I review things on my channel."

"What kind of things?"

"All kinds of things. Could be books or movies or products. Usually, it's some sort of product because businesses like to send me shit to review because I'm so goddamn popular."

"And what will we be reviewing in our special collab episode?" Roxy questions.

"Let's find out. Follow me." You gesture in a certain direction.

Roxy gives you a weird look, but she does follow you as you direct her towards a certain room. You open the door and inside are a shit ton of boxes.

"Here are all my future videos. Feel free to chose whatever. Go wild."

"Holy-" Roxy looks around amazed. "Holy shit, Dave! Holy fuck! You have so much shit in here. Oh my god. Do you even know everything that's in here?"

"More or less?" You shrug. "I know that none of it is food because I make sure that none of it is. Otherwise, this room would smell absolutely disgusting. I always do episodes reviewing food first, so a lot of products end up on the back burner."

"Dave. I hope you realize how much power you're giving me."

"I'm really not giving you that much power. You're a responsible adult, right?" You ask, honestly thinking that, even if Roxy picks something horrible, it won't be THAT horrible. "The extent of the power that I'm giving you is that you have to choose an object from this room. You can't just go to another room and pick out a lamp for us to review. That'd be stupid."

"I think you mean that would be hilarious."

"It would be, but we're trying to be a little serious here."

"Alright, alright. I'll try to be a little serious and take mercy on my poor, poor little brother."

Roxy rummaged around the room for a while, constantly changing her mind about one thing or another. You swear that she spent less time figuring out what to do for her wedding than she spent figuring out what to do for this impromptu collab video the two of you agreed to do.

Eventually, Roxy appeared to have found something, if the way she suddenly lit up was anything to go by. Her smile then morphed into something that was a bit more sinister.

"Oh no. What did you find."

"Oh, it's nothing much," Roxy tried to play innocent, but you knew what game she was playing at.

"You're gonna have to tell me eventually. We are doing a review on the item after all."

"Well, I found-" Roxy took out a few brightly colored bottles of something. “Hair dye!”

"Holy shit, I thought I lost that," You admit. "What color should we dye our hair?"

"Well, let's see what we have here. Or should we, like, figure that out in the video?"

"Oh! That certainly adds a twist to it. Sure, I'll set up the camera stuff, and you set up the dye stuff. I think the rest of the stuff people use to dye their hair is also in that box, and then we can impulse dye our hair because no one can stop us."

"Okay, but Dave. I have to ask you." Roxy was suddenly serious. "Is this, like, a legit good idea?"

Roxy did a dramatic pause before beginning to laugh.

"I'm joking! Of course it's a great idea! I've dyed my hair before, so we'll be fine. I'll just walk you through the process and help you out."

"Cool."

"Also, this entire thing will be easier since both of us already have our hair bleached. The color will come out more."

"It sounds like you have most of this stuff already figured out, so you do all that, and I'll set up the video."

With that, you began to set up all the camera stuff. Roxy setting up the dye was a bit more difficult because she was trying not to look at the colors in order to keep it a surprise, but everything was set up soon enough.

With that, you turned on the camera and started recording.

"What are we doing today?" You say in your most monotone voice. "Well, see, we're both going to be dying our hair."

“Dave, you sound like you did when you were thirteen,” Roxy mentioned, and you knew that she was going to say that. You just knew it.

“It’s for irony,” You explain, again in a monotone voice.

“Should I do it too?” Roxy shrugs and answers her own question. “Here I am doing a monotone voice. It’s, like, black and white if black and white were a sound. I sound so serious and boring like a or a really lame teacher.”

Roxy is unable to keep up that voice for long, as is evident by her suddenly falling apart into giggles.

“Yeah, no. I don’t think I can do that. It’s too silly, but I won’t fault you for doing it, Davey.”

“We should get back on track for the video.”

“Oh, right! The video. Tbh, I completely forgot about it.”

“That’s understandable. But we can’t get distracted. We’re going to be dying our hair, and we need each and every single ounce of our concentration to do so.”

“Most of it’s gonna be waiting around for the color to stick or whatever it does to our hair. But we should try and get back on track, yeah.”

“You gotta remember that we’re talking to an audience here, Roxy. They don’t even know who you are yet, unless you have a GrubTube channel that you’re keeping all to yourself.”

“Nah, I don’t have a GrubTube channel. Callie does, but she mostly puts videos of dogs and cats and other animals there. The channel is called Animals are friends not food, but, like, one word.”

“Is that supposed to be an ironic name,” You ask.

“Yes, absolutely. It is absolutely supposed to be ironic. Also, Dave’s right. I haven’t really introduced myself to you all yet. I’m Roxy, and I’m Dave’s older sister. It’s nice to meet all of you!”

“It’s the long-awaited collab video with a complete and utter stranger. I swear this isn’t my actual sister. She’s just here to pretend to be my sister. She’s certainly better at dying hair that my sister, whose only ever bleached her hair. Remember kids, be safe when bleaching your hair, and, if you want it to become platinum like Roxy’s lovely hair over here, you have to get it in multiple bleaching sessions if you don’t want your hair to fall out or something else similar awful.”

“He’s a jokester,” Roxy rolls her eyes. “We got a bunch of colors to chose from, but we haven’t decided what color we’re gonna dye our hair with so that all of you could see us decide. And you also get to see all the colors we got.”

“So, Roxy, what colors do we have on the table here?”

“We got every color of the rainbow here,” Roxy spreads her arms out to emphasis the array of colors on the table. “We got red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, and even pink! I’m pretty sure they have fancier names than that though, gimmie a sec.”

Roxy picks up one of the bottles and squints and that label.

“I need my fucking glasses for this,” She grumbles and grabs her purse and pulls out a pair of glasses with pink rims. “Here we go. The red here is called ‘Fire Engine Red,’ the orange is called ‘Zest,’ the yellow is named ‘Sunshine,’ the green is ‘Tree Leaf,’ the blue is ‘Ocean Waves,’ the purple is ‘Ethereal Void,’ and, finally, the pink is named ‘Cotton Candy Pink.’ I call dibs on the Fire Engine Red.”

“Why choose the color of one thousand suns, the color of a really cold, but really big sun? It’s an angry color, full of spite and passion for things that aren’t appreciated by the vast majority of the population. I would have thought you would choose the pink, which is the shade of being at a carnival with your favorite people eating the shittiest junk food you can find.”

“Are you gonna explain all the colors that in depth?”

“It’s kind of a think I do.”

“Ramble away then.”

“Guess I’ll continue on with the orange then, which looks like an orange tastes and smells. I don’t know what else to tell you guys. It’s a nice orange. Next, we got this sunshine color, which looks like a super happy color. Like, hella happy. You have one centimeter of this color in your hair, and you’re gonna be happy for the rest of your life. The green looks like frolicking through the flowers on a spring afternoon where the sun is shining overhead and the breeze feels like it’s caressing you. Next up, blue, which looks the way the sea smells. Never smelled the sea? Get a glass of water and put a shit ton of salt in there. It smells both nothing like that and exactly like that. Finally, the one color I haven’t explained yet is the purple, which reminds me a lot of my other sister. Looks like the color she would use for the words in her books if she were allowed to use another color aside from black. And there we go. Each and every single one of these colors explained.”

You put down the final bottle of hair dye after brandishing each one for the audience to see clearly. That was, of course, assuming they could see. You mostly did the descriptions stuff for blind people, and you always made sure to make your captions correct for those who were deaf. Even if they couldn’t hear your awesome voice, they could see the words you were saying.

“Also, Roxy. You haven’t told me yet why you choose the red here.”

“It’s your color!” Roxy cheerfully answered.

You put your hand on your chest, trying your best to keep a straight face even though you were so fucking flattered that she would dye her hair red because it was the shade she associated with you.

“Well, shit, if you’re gonna dye your hair red, then I gotta dye my hair pink,” You say, but then you realize something. “Hold up, if we’re gonna dye our hair the color of each other’s color, I have to make sure my moirail is chill with it.”

“You’ve got a moirail!” Roxy exclaims, and there are suddenly sparkles in her eyes. “Who are they?”

“It’s Aradia, you know. We’re prolly gonna cut this part out just so that the audience can actually get to the hair dying part without worrying too much about who my moirail is.”

“I’m sure they’d be plenty interested, especially if your channel is popular. Someone watching your videos would want to know about it.”

“Probably, but it is a recent development, and I don’t really want anyone to know until it’s a long-term relationship. I’m gonna go message her now, so just wait here.”

You get up and start messaging Aradia.

-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] --

TG: yo ara TG: are you there TG: i got a question

AA: yes im here! AA: whats your question

TG: would it be chill if my sister TG: the sister is roxy just so you know TG: would it be chill if my sister and i dyed our hair the color of each others text TG: idk if that would be taboo or anything bc i know trolls like to do hemotyping TG: and that wearing each others colors is a sign of a relationship TG: so i just wanted to make sure that it would be chill with you before we went ahead and did it

AA: i think its fine AA: in fact im glad that you and your sister have a good enough relationship to do that!!! AA: i know other people who dont have that great of a relationship with their sibling AA: i know that i often clash with my sister AA: so go on and dye your hair!!! AA: but you have to send me pictures

TG: you know i will TG: its for a video so ill also send you the link to that when everything is edited and shit TG: thanks TG: pester you later

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering apocalypseArisen [AA] --

“Alright, so I have gotten my moirail’s approval, so we can go on with the show!”

“Awesome! Now we just gotta go through all the steps of dying our hair. Don’t forget to read the directions on the bottle, everyone. You don’t want to fuck up your hair too bad.”

“You only want to fuck up your hair a little bit,” You add on.

“Yeah, just a little bit.”

The two of you follow the directions on the bottle, and it is a very messy process. However, that does not deter you in the slightest.

Your shirt is covered in pink hair dye, but you could always say that it was a purposeful design decision on your part and impress people with your nonexistent DIY skills. Seriously, why was doing DIY projects so hard? You’ve done, like, one or two videos on them, and you failed every single time you did one, even ones that seemed like they should have been laughably easy.

But, despite your incapability to do DIY projects, this hair dye project turned out really well, but that was most likely because Roxy was there to help you.

“Maybe I’ll become a hairstylist at some point in my life,” Roxy says in the midst of dying your hair. “I don’t have to program robots forever.”

“Hell yeah, learn those new skills. Maybe one day I’ll actually use the skills I got from college.”

“You’ll become a pro dead things expert,” Roxy agrees.

“Don’t ‘pro’ and ‘expert’ in that sentence mean basically the same thing?”

“Yep!”

Roxy finished dying your hair, so you did your best to dye her’s in turn, but she stopped you after the first few minutes to do it herself, which was fair.

The two of you finished dying your hair, and a bunch of time passed before the two of you could do the reveal.

But, finally, you were able to do the reveal.

“We have finished dying our hair. That took way too long. But, anyway it’s time for all of y’all to see how it turned out. Roxy, will you do the honors?”

“Only on myself. You can do your own honors, Dave.”

“Ouch. I’m hurt. But no matter. It’s time for the reveal.”

The two of you took off the towels in more or less perfect sync and showed the color of your hair to the world.

All you could really see was Roxy’s hair, which was bright red, and, based on her reaction to your hair, your hair turned out pretty awesome as well.

“Holy shit, Davey, you look fantastic!”

“You do too, Roxy. That’s it for this video, everyone. Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe. Or don’t. Do what you want and remember that your dreams can come true at any point during your life.”

“But you should tots subscribe. If you do, you might even see me a bit more often. Wonk,” Roxy did an extremely exaggerated wink.

You ended the video, more or less satisfied with the footage you got.

“Do you want to do anything else today?” You question Roxy. Roxy thinks for a moment.

“Nah, we can just chill.”

“Do you mean chill as in sit here and talk to each other, or chill as in sit in the same room while doing different things?”

“Second thing. But we can do the first thing later if you want.”

“That’d be chill. I’m gonna go edit this footage.”

“I’m going to pester my wife because I miss her.”

“Gay.”

Roxy sticks her tongue out at you, and you laugh.

“Damn straight,” You say before realizing your mistake. “But probably damn gay.”

“Damn straight it’s damn gay,” Roxy responds, and the both of you laugh probably harder than you should have.

“Alright, I’m just gonna do the editing thing and come back to you later.”

Despite saying that you were going to edit the video footage, you did not. You mostly just fucked around and watched GrubTube videos until someone started messaging you.

-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

GC: D4V3

TG: tz

GC: 1 C4NT B3L31V3 YOU

TG: wait shit what did i do this time

GC: NOTH1NG MUCH GC: 1 JUST H4PP3N3D TO H34R TH4T YOUR S1ST3R W4S 1N TOWN 4ND YOU D1DNT T3LL M3 GC: >:[

TG: oh shit i guess i did forget to tell you TG: but now you know i guess TG: take me to jail ms lawyer TG: i deserve to be locked up for neglecting to tell one of my best friends about my sister coming to town TG: how dare i do such a horrible and awful thing TG: its absolutely unthinkable TG: ill just go off to jail and get super buff and then break out TG: and then ill be on the run from the cops for the rest of my existence TG: eternally lost in the maze that they call the law

GC: BOLD OF YOU TO 4SSUM3 YOUD 3V3R 3SC4P3

TG: it may be bold of me but i know i can do it with the power of friendship

GC: D4V3 GC: TH4TS R34LLY CH33SY >:/ GC: 1 C4N 4CTU4LLY T4ST3 TH3 4MOUNT OF CH33S3 TH4T C4M3 FROM TH4T ST4T3M3NT

TG: you love cheese though TG: you shouldnt because your lactose intolerant TG: but you still love cheese

GC: YOU B3T YOUR FUCK1NG 4SS 1 DO GC: 4NYW4Y GC: 1M ST1LL GO1NG TO H4NG OUT W1TH YOU 4ND ROXY TOMORROW GC: 1 H4V3 4 D4Y OFF 4ND YOU H4VE TO P4Y M3 B4CK FOR NOT T3LL1NG M3 4BOUT H3R V1S1T

TG: i was gonna invite you out anyways

GC: GOOD GC: 1 W4S JUST M4K1NG C3RT41N

-- gallowsCalibrator [GC] ceased trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

After that conversation, you finish up whatever GrubTube video you were watching and start to do some actual editing of the video you just took with Roxy.

You manage to get about an hour of editing done before someone starts pestering you relentlessly with no break to be had, so you answer what suddenly became an entire page of messages.

-- carcinoGenetisict [CG] began trolling turntechGodhead [TG] --

CG: YOU WILL NOT *BELIEVE* THE DAY I JUST HAD. CG: LIKE HOLY SHIT. CG: IT WAS A FESTERING PILE OF SHIT. CG: THE SHIT HAD BEEN THERE FOR ENTIRELY TOO LONG, AND NOW THERE ARE FLIES AND SHIT FLYING AROUND THE SHIT, WHICH MEANS IF YOU GET TOO CLOSE TO IT, YOU TOO WILL BE COVERED IN FLIES. CG: YOU COULD SMELL THIS SHIT FROM ACROSS THE STATE-THAT’S HOW RANK IT WAS. CG: IT WAS COMPLETELY PUTRESCENT, AND I CANNOT EVEN FUCKING DESCRIBE HOW UTTERLY HORRENDOUS IT WAS. CG: DAVE. CG: DAVE. CG: I KNOW YOU’RE THERE. CG: THE MESSAGE ABOUT BEING IDLE HASN’T SHOWN UP YET, SO YOU MUST BE ONLINE. CG: DAVE. CG: GET OVER HERE AND LISTEN TO THE STORY ABOUT THE STEAMING PILE OF FECES THAT WAS MY DAY.

TG: woah woah there karkat TG: my beautiful ass is here and my ears are prostrated in front of me completely prepared to hear your winsome ass go on a superfluous rant about this resplendent pile of golden and premium shit TG: rose recently gave me a word a day calendar

CG: IT WILL FURTHER YOUR KNOWLEDGE OF THE HELLHOLE THAT IS THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

TG: hella TG: now lay down the deats about your absolutely lovely day

CG: IT WAS PHYSICALLY REPULSIVE.

TG: you cant just leave me hanging over here karkat TG: you were the one who messaged me ready to give my willing ears the tales of your sorrow TG: im sure they were filled with heartbreak and death TG: like one of those super long epics that were originally in greek and then translated into latin and then translated into whatever language it would be read in TG: a goddamn rosetta stone of poetry TG: and yet well never figure out the mystery behind homers wine red sea TG: or his green honey jesus shit TG: honey isnt green TG: its like yellow or amber or gleaming like the fucking sun or stars or whatever

CG: IT’S BECAUSE THE WORD FOR GREEN REFERS TO SOMETHING PALE AND FRESH.

TG: what really

CG: YES. CG: THERE’S A REALLY COOL STUDY ABOUT THE SUBJECT, BUT I’M NOT HERE TO GO ON A TANGENT ABOUT HOW LANGUAGES EVOLVE. CG: I’M HERE TO GET YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP SO I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE SHIT THAT HAPPENED TODAY.

TG: my lips are sealed TG: or i guess my hands TG: can you seal hands TG: i guess you could if they were cut off or something

CG: DAVE.

TG: my point is ill refrain from typing anything more until the completion of your story

CG: FINALLY. CG: SO I WAS IN ROSEMARY, YOU KNOW, BECAUSE I HAVE A JOB THERE. CG: AND THERE WERE JUST SO MANY FUCKING PEOPLE WHO CAME IN TO RETURN SOMETHING *WITHOUT* A GODDAMN RECEIPT, DESPITE THE FACT THAT WE MAKE IT *PERFECTLY CLEAR* THAT YOU ARE REQUIRED TO HAVE A RECEIPT IF YOU WANT TO RETURN SOMETHING. CG: BUT NO. CG: PEOPLE CAN’T READ. CG: AND THEY REFUSE TO LISTEN TO MY INSISTENCE THAT THE SIGN HAS BEEN THERE SINCE ROSEMARY OPENED TO THE PUBLIC. CG: NOW, I ALWAYS DEAL WITH THESE KINDS OF SHITHEADS ON A DAILY BASIS, SO I’M MORE OR LESS DESENSITIZED TO IT. CG: BUT ONLY TWO OR THREE COME IN A DAY TRYING TO DO THAT. CG: DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY CAME IN TRYING TO DO THAT TODAY? CG: DO YOU FUCKING KNOW?

TG: no i dont but i can hazard a guess of too high of a number

CG: FIFTEEN. CG: FIFTEEN FUCKING PEOPLE WALKED INTO THE STORE WITHOUT THE INTENTION TO BUY SOMETHING, BUT, INSTEAD, TRIED TO RETURN SOMETHING WITHOUT THE REQUIRED MATERIALS! CG: THIS ISN’T EVEN MENTIONING THE PEOPLE WHO TRY TO HAGGLE WITH ME ABOUT THE PRICES OF SHIT! CG: I DON’T WANT TO BOTHER KANAYA EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TIME SOMEONE DOESN’T AGREE WITH THE UNDISPUTED *FACT* THAT OUR STORE DOES NOT ACCEPT RETURNS WITHOUT A RECEIPT AND WILL NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, GIVE SOMEONE A LOWER PRICE FOR A PRODUCT UNLESS A SALE IS GOING ON OR A COUPON IS GIVEN. CG: AND WE DON’T GIVE OUT THAT MANY COUPONS. CG: WE DON’T EVEN GIVE DISCOUNTS TO CLOSE FRIENDS, NO MATTER HOW MUCH THEY BEG.

TG: are you talking about eridan

CG: I AM ABSOLUTELY TALKING ABOUT ERIDAN. CG: ALSO, I JUST FOUND OUT WHO HE HAD A CRUSH ON. CG: WAIT. CG: DID I EVER TELL YOU ABOUT THE FACT THAT ERIDAN HAD A CRUSH?

TG: i dont remember TG: remind me

CG: OKAY, SO ERIDAN HAD THIS CONFUSING AS FUCK CRUSH ON SOMEONE. CG: HE WASN’T EVEN SURE IF IT WAS RED OR BLACK UNTIL, LIKE, A WEEK OR TWO AGO. CG: AND HE FINALLY MANAGED TO DIVULGE THE INFORMATION OF WHO HE HAD A CRUSH ON.

TG: well who is is it someone is it that would be does he even know who rose does he know that rose is that rose is lesbian who would not even consider swinging the other

CG: I DON’T KNOW IF ROSE KNOWS ABOUT ERIDAN. CG: BUT KNOWING HIM HE’S PROBABLY FLIRTED WITH HER. CG: BUT NO. CG: ERIDAN DOESN’T HAVE A CRUSH ON HER.

TG: then who

CG: HE HAS A CRUSH ON NEPETA.

TG: nepeta

CG: NEPETA.

TG: of all the people he could have a crush on i was not expecting nepeta TG: who knows maybe she likes him back TG: idk tho TG: also i just dont know nepeta that well TG: ive had a total of one conversation with her TG: and that was over pesterchum

CG: WHEN DID YOU GET HER TROLLHANDLE?

TG: i got it from kanaya

CG: GOD DAMN IT. CG: OF COURSE IT WAS KANAYA. CG: SHE’S CONSPIRING AGAINST ME.

TG: she would never conspire against youre and im pretty sure you have healthy especially if you had not healthy moirailship in the past with another in the although having that can make it lot more difficult to recognize healthy relationship because youre just so used to unhealthy but im gonna stop now so dont bring up any bad past things that dont want to talk and im sure you dont really want to talk about

CG: YEAH, LET’S KEEP THAT SHIT TO OUR MOIRAILS. CG: UNLESS THEY DON’T MIND US TALKING ABOUT OUR DARK PASTS. CG: KNOWING KANAYA, SHE PROBABLY WOULDN’T MIND IF I TALKED ABOUT THINGS WITH OTHER PEOPLE. CG: IF ONLY BECAUSE HUMANS MADE POLYAMOUROUS MOIRAILSHIPS MORE COMMON.

TG: i dont think aradia would mind but im not gonna go around putting words in her mouth TG: but she did let me dye my hair pink which is my sisters color so shed probably be chill with it

CG: YOU DYED YOUR HAIR PINK? CG: ALSO, I THOUGHT ROSE TYPED IN PURPLE?

TG: she does im talking about my older sister roxy TG: but hell yeah i dyed my hair TG: check it TG: myhairispinknow.png

CG: HOLY SHIT. CG: YOU LOOK GREAT!

TG: hell yeah i do TG: thank you very much TG: roxy got her hair dyed red and it looks awesome too TG: there’s gonna be a video about it on my channel soon TG: speaking of which i gotta finish editing that shit TG: probably gonna come out in a week or two or whenever the amount of videos ive queued run out TG: so like a week or so TG: im gonna dash off to finish it so ill chat with you later alrighty

CG: ALRIGHT. CG: HAVE FUN.

TG: with editing

CG: YES.

TG: ill try to do that

-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] --

Your heart was beating faster than usual. You could feel your face heat up, and you were suddenly fixating on Karkat saying that you looked great.

Were you just happy about the compliment or the fact that it was Karkat who said the compliment?

You weren’t going to dwell on it. You had a video to edit.

#homestuck #davekat #dave strider #roxy lalonde #karkat vantas #terezi pyrope #aradia megido #hs

8 notes · View notes

pongpalace · 7 years ago

Text

@omgcpwinterextravaganza | december 1; gift exchange

spreadsheets to make it easy [ao3]

unbeta’d and late as is usual (~4200 words)

Justin isn’t sure what he expects when he clicks on an email with the subject Adopt a Child for the Holidays! , but he’s not that surprised when the link inside brings him to the homepage of a local orphanage. He’s more surprised than he’d like to admit outside of his own head when it’s a link for donating a holiday present to a child rather than actually adopting a kid for the holiday month, but he blames that on the fact that he’s been in a youtube spiral since he got home from work at lunch and has apparently forgotten how to think for himself.

He eats the sandwich he made for dinner one handed while he skims through the page, looking at the pictures of kids of all ages decked out in holiday reds and greens and blues and whites, smiling or making faces at the camera. The captions on the photos say that they were taken from last year’s party, the first time the orphanage was able to do a holiday party, if the captions are to be believed and Justin hasn’t accidentally opened a virus again by clicking on a link from an unknown source. He doesn’t remember giving out his email address to any orphanages, but then again Holster never remembers his own email address half the time so he uses Justin’s to sign up for things. At least if this is clickbait, it’s probably Holster’s fault time.

The more he clicks through the tabs though, the more Justin thinks this is probably a legit orphanage looking for donations in order to make sure they can purchase enough gifts for the kids who will be there through the holiday season. He’s staring at the bright red ADOPT-A-CHILD button that’s been on the side of every page when Holster kicks open the front door of their apartment.

“Hey, fuck daylight savings,” Holster says in lieu of a greeting. It comes out a little muffled; he’s got a scarf wrapped around the bottom half of his face to fight the wind, but he shucks that off easily enough and throws it on top of the chair they’ve been using as a coat stand since the weather’s turned cold. His jacket goes on top of it. Justin would be more annoyed if they weren’t the same size in outerwear and wore each other’s interchangeably. Holster continues, “It’s like barely 6pm and it feels like midnight, I hate it.” He kicks his shoes at the wall, letting them fall on top of Justin’s neatly placed shoes. That actually annoys him so he glares at Holster until he bends and fixes them.

“And it’s dark and cold, and I had to talk to Margaret about her daughter for fucking ever,” Holster continues talking all the while he passes the kitchen and goes into his room to change out of his work clothes.

“I thought she moved to the third floor?” Ransom asks. He doesn’t bother raising his voice; the walls are thin enough that Holster’ll hear him, even if he closed the door while he changes.

“She caught me in the elevator,” Holster shouts back.

“Shit.”

“Yeah, she’s apparently single, and looking for a nice boy to settle down with and for some strange reason doesn’t appreciate her mother’s matchmaking skills.” Holster comes back into the kitchen, dressed in old Samwell sweatpants and his hair messed from where he probably got caught pushing his head through the sweatshirt he threw on. He ducks in for a kiss before dropping into the seat beside Justin and putting his feet up on Justin’s lap. “You’re a lucky bastard for getting the half day.” He steals the unbitten half of Justin’s sandwich.

“Hey,” Justin says mildly, like he hadn’t put extra mustard on that side for Holster anyways.

Holster just grins and wiggles his toes, digging them into the meat of Justin’s thigh. “Whatcha doing?”

“Thinking about adopting a kid,” Justin replies and it probably says something about them that Holster knows exactly what he means without any context.

“Oh good, you got the email!” Holster drops his feet to the ground so he can sit up straight, and drags his chair closer to Justin’s. “There was a sign up sheet going around this afternoon.”

“When are you going to learn your own email address?” Justin asks, but he tilts the screen so they can both see the happy pictures.

“Whenever you grow out of the email you made in elementary, justin-oh-one-two-three-at-hotmail-dot-com?” Holster elbows Justin and starts clicking through the pages himself. His grin widens on the EVENTS page. “So, they have an option of either sending money so the volunteers can buy the gifts or you can buy something yourself and drop it off.” He drops his sandwich and Justin’s eyes are drawn to the pink of his mouth while he sucks mustard off his fingertips. When they’re clean, he drags the laptop over to his side of the table completely and clicks on the ADOPT-A-CHILD button that Justin’d been staring at before. Holster keeps talking while he fills out the form that loads, typing in his name and Justin’s email address. “I know you’ve got a big project coming up, but if we go this weekend to pick something out, and then we can wrap it and I’ll drop it off on Monday when I have the half day?” He swings his big head over to look at Justin when he finishes, and looks so excited that Justin can really help but lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips. Holster is always stupidly beautiful when he’s excited about something, be it his newest TV obsession or gift shopping.

“Yeah, okay,” Justin says, when they pull back. Holster knocks their noses together when he leans in for another peck, but then he goes right back to the form.

“How many kids?” He hovers over the drop down menu.

“Two.” They’d never decide on a gift for one kid without an argument in the store otherwise.

“Good call. Boy or girl?”

Justin shrugs and leans his head on Holster’s shoulder and watches him chose the Any option before hitting the submit button on the form. Another window pops up telling them that an email with all the information about the child(ren) they’ve ‘adopted’ will be sent as soon as possible. Justin and Holster are both quiet for a minute—Justin’s enjoying breathing in time with Holster—then Holster turns so Justin, not realizing how much of his weight he’d been leaning on Holster, has to catch himself before he smacks his face into Holster’s chest.

“Wanna have sex before the house gets overrun with children?” Holster asks, wiggling his eyebrows and looking proud of what has to be the worst joke possible, even if the idea of actually adopting a kid with him makes Justin’s insides buzz pleasantly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Justin groans. “Do not make that joke in front of your mother. You’ll break her heart.” He punches Holster in the shoulder, hard. He closes the laptop and kicks his chair from the table so he can stand up.

“She is baby crazy,” Holster agrees, rubbing at his shoulder. He takes the hand Justin offers though, standing and kissing Justin deeply enough that he can taste the mustard from the sandwich, and then they do make their way to the bedroom, returning the kitchen for a snack sometime later for a snack to go with the new T.V. show Holster wants to show Justin.

Holster wakes up early and excited, only letting Justin go back to sleep when he’s reminded that no store will be open before 8 AM. Justin wakes up again sometime around 10 to a cold bed and has a moment of panic that Holster went to the store without him. He relaxes when he hears a kitchen chair creak against the laminate floor, grateful for the stupidly thin walls. He rolls out of bed and pads to the bathroom, peeing and washing his face and teeth and then goes to find Holster, while shrugs into clean-ish clothes to go shopping in.

Holster’s got Justin’s laptop open in front of him again, and an empty plate full of toast crumbs piled on top of the sandwich plate from yesterday that they forgot to put away and he’s frowning while he stares at the screening, scrolling with a purpose.

“What’re you doing, Holtzy?” Justin asks, smacking a kiss to the top of Holsters head and taking the plates the sink. He gets a bowl down and fills it with Frosted Flakes. He finishes the milk, leaves the carton out so they at least have a small chance remember to buy more while they’re out, and leans against the counter while he eats. He squints at Holster as he waits for an answer to his question.

“They sent the email about the kids. Siblings; a boy and a girl,” Holster says finally. “Andrew’s 13, likes the Bruins, dinosaurs, and those Percy Jackson books that Nursey keeps trying to make you read.” Justin hums through a mouthful of flakes and Holster keeps going. “Penny is 6-and-a-half and really likes soccer and Rey from Star Wars.”

“They sound great,” Justin says when he swallows. “Why do you look so sad?”

Holster breathes out through his nose. “I dunno. I mean, I guess I didn’t realize that our gifts might be the only gifts they get this year.”

According to the clicking Justin did yesterday, these will definitely be the only gifts the kids this year, but he doesn’t think saying so will help so he stays silent.

“I don’t wanna fuck up their holidays,” Holster admits quietly, after he’s been chewing on the words for a while. Justin puts his bowl down and goes over to his boyfriend. From here, he can see that half the laptop screen is open to the Toy-R-Us website while the other half is an excel worksheet. Now’s probably not the time to realize that Holster using spreadsheets outside of work makes him about a hundred times more attractive, so instead Justin crawls into Holster’s laptop, wiggling until Holster works with him and pushes the table back so they both fit. The chair creaks onminously. Justin takes Holster’s face between his hand to look at him seriously. Holster’s hands settle right above Justin’s ass, finding bare skin where his t-shirt has ridden up with the movements, but it takes a minute for Holster to look Justin in the eye.

“Let’s pick out the best gifts we can then, eh?” Justin says.

Holster humpfs a little. “You say that like it’ll be easy.”

“You’ve made a spreadsheet. Step one of making it easy, babe.” Justin presses a kiss to Holster’s nose, and this time feels Holster’s humpf. “Make sure you save it before we go.” He ignores Holster’s grumble, steals another kiss, and swings his legs back over so he can finish his now-soggy cereal.

He gives Holster another half hour of scrolling the Toys-R-Us website before bullying him into real clothes and then into the car. Justin drives, because Holster makes the argument that he needs to study his list and Justin lets Holster get away with it because this is important to him. To both of them, really. He puts up with Holster making them go to the store further from their apartment because it has a better selection apparently, but puts his foot down when Holster tries to backseat drive.

“If you wanted to fucking drive, you should’ve fucking drove,” Justin says, finishing his turn and then reaching over to charlie-horse Holster. There’s less backseat driving after that, but that might be because he’s pulled into the parking lot and it’s much busier than he expected so they both concentrate on looking out for empty parking spots. When the eventually find one, Holster dashes off to nab a cart, though Justin takes over driving it because he figures Holster might be too excited to stick to it once they’re inside.

He’s right, but after a round of the store to “see what they have in stock Rans, c’mon,” Holster sticks close to the cart while Justin it pushes it through every single aisle, eyes wide while Holster narrates the pros and cons of each item on his list every time they find something new.

Somewhere between the Barbies and the Lego sets, Justin wishes that he had made a spreadsheet too. There’s just so much , so many colours and sounds and options and he doesn’t even realize he’s on the edge of a panic attack until Holster pushes his phone into Justin’s hands and tells him to focus on the pros of Rey action figures versus the plush versions for Penny.

“Thanks,” Justin says when he doesn’t have tunnel vision and his ears aren’t ringing anymore. He keeps scrolling through Holster’s spreadsheet, feeling grounded in the columns and rows. It’s not set up exactly like Justin would’ve done it, but it’s working. The overwhelming amount of stuff in the store is made more bearable, knowing that they don’t have to go through all of it to find the best holiday presents for these kids.

“Spreadsheets babe,” Holster replies.

He takes Justin’s hand and they finish going through the store, eventually deciding on a set of mini sticks and an A-to-Z encyclopedia of Dinosaurs for Andrew and the plushy doll of Rey and Starwars colouring book with matching markers for Penny. They only go a little over the amount the Orphanage recommended for each gift because Holster insists that they need Hanukkah and Christmas wrapping paper (“One for each gift for both of them, Rans, duh”) and non-denominational cards, but Justin figures no one will fault them for either.

The rest of the weekend is spent arguing about the best way to wrap the irregular shapes of the boxes, finally ending when they run out of wrapping paper and have to go back to get more so they agree each wrap the gifts for one kid and stop messing with each other’s boxes because “it’s not a competition Holster for god’s sake.” They sit next to each other at the kitchen table again and each write a little message in both of the cards, signing them with their first names. Justin adds a little heart next to his name, and has to shove Holster onto the floor when he giggles and asks why Justin drew a butt.

Holster tries to be smug about getting to go home early on Monday morning when they drive to work together, but he’s too excited about getting to drop the boxes off after that he forgets to rub his half day in Justin’s face when he waves and as he’s leaving at lunchtime.

Justin’s phone rings at 5 that afternoon, screen flashing to the picture he took of Holster caught mid-sneeze during the summer. Justin has done everything he can on his current project until someone in accounting calls him back with more information about an account. He won’t hear anything back from them until tomorrow, so he doesn’t even feel a little bit guilty when he answers his phone while he packs up his bag to go home for the day.

“If you’re calling to brag about your half day, you’re too late. I’m on my way home,” Justin says. He swings his bag over his shoulder and waves to Bonnie as he passes her office on his way to the elevator.

“Rans, they’ve invited us to a party!” Holster’s voice booms in his ear, which means that he’s really excited about something and forgotten he needs to use his inside voice, wherever he is.

Justin steps into the elevator, sticking the phone between his ear and shoulder so he can fix the twist in bag’s strap and presses the button for the ground floor. “Uh… who?”

“The orphanage! They have a Holiday Party every year for the kids and they invite whoever’s bought presents. or donated.”

“Oh yeah?” The elevator stops on the third floor and Margaret steps in, looking like she has something to say to Justin. He twists so she can see he’s on the phone and makes his best sympathetic face when she deflates, but doesn’t actually feel that bad. “When is it?”

“Uhhh, on a weekend?” There a rustling on Holster’s end, like he’s looking through papers. “Oh. Not this weekend, but the one after. Pretty sure Bitty’s cookie day is the Saturday while this is the Sunday so we can do both. I already RSVP’d that we’re going.”

Justin nods a goodbye to Margaret as he gets out of the elevator. “Bro, we can bring cookies for the kids!”

“Exactly!” Holster exclaims. “Now hurry up; I’m double parked and I’m not sure the parking attendant is feeling the holiday spirit now that the sun has been down for hours.”

Justin snorts, but hurries outside to see where Holster has half-assed parked their car in the loading zone. Justin can see his grin as Holster waves to him. The grin gets wider when Justin hangs up on him as he opens the passenger and leans across to give Holster a kiss hello, even though it’s only been hours since he got a kiss goodbye.

Cookies aren’t the only thing that Justin and Holster turn up to the Holiday Party with two weekends later. Bitty sends them with a couple pies and Jack slips them a cheque made out to the orphanage with instructions to give it as a jumpstart for next year’s Holiday party. They’ve even got a couple of extra presents, some jerseys and t-shirts, just in case. The staff member who greets them doesn’t quite know what to do with all of it, but gives them nametags and sends them back into a rec room where there’s a Christmas Tree set up beside a table of brightly coloured gifts. Holster elbows Justin in the side when he spots their mismatched gifts.

“Mine still looks better,” Justin mutters under his breath. He gets an elbow to the stomach for that as they join the other adults and kids milling about the room.

They get directed to a snack table by a serious faced kid who’s balancing a plate with a single brownie on it on top of a place filled with baby carrots and Justin is drawn into conversation with the volunteer in charge of pouring juice while Holster is talked into lifting kids up onto his shoulders and giving them a tour of the room with a view. Justin isn’t sure how long he watches Holster be a human jungle gym but it does something to him every time one of the kids makes Holster belly laugh with something they’ve said. Justin’s just about to get in on the action when Bethenny, the woman in charge of the orphanage, gets everyone’s attention to start the gift giving ceremony.

The kids go sit near the tree while the adults in the room hang around the edges of the room. The volunteers go through the table of presents, calling names and handing each gift to the kid it goes with, with reminders to wait until everyone has their gifts. It turns out the serious faced kid with the carrots and brown is Andrew and the little girl who first convinced Holster she needed to sit on his shoulders “for science” is Penny. They both look pleased with the wrapping jobs, and Justin even catches Andrew staring at the little menorah’s that cover the Hanukkah wrapping paper, before rubbing his thumb over them and smiling. Holster’s grinning too when Justin catches his eye.

When every kid has a present in front of them, Justin braces himself against Holster for the flurry of activity that’s coming. Someone starts a countdown that’s enthusiastically taken up by the younger kids who want to show off their counting skills and at zero, there’s a happy shout and the holiday music that’d been playing in the background is overtaken by the sounds of ripping paper and excited kids.

There’s so much movement that Justin isn’t sure where to look, but an extra loud shout of glee from his left grabs his attention and he doesn’t even try to stop the giant smile he knows he’s wearing when he sees that Penny’s ripped into Holster’s haphazard wrap job of the Rey plush and is hugging her, even as the rest of the gift is still attached to the it. There’s more shouts of “oh cool,” and “check this out!” and one “holy shit!” that has Holster snort so loudly that Justin thinks he might be choking on his tongue as he muffles his laugh in Justin’s shoulder.

Justin is thumping on Holster’s back and doing a shitty job of hiding his own laughter when someone tugs on his other hand. He looks down to see Penny and Andrew in front of him. They’re both holding their gifts, now properly unwrapped, as well as a small square of folded tissue paper.

“Mr. Adam?” Penny says when she sees that she’s got his attention. Holster looks up at his name.

“That’s me,” Holster says. He drops down into a crouch so he’s at Penny’s level.

“Is that Mr. Justin?” she asks, leaning close so she talks right into his ear.

“Yep, that’s Justin,” Holster replies. Penny nods seriously, and hands Holster the blue tissue paper she’s holding.

“This ‘s for you. Andrew has one for Mr. Justin,” she says.

On cue, Andrew passes the green tissue paper that Justin now notices has his name scrawled on it in big little kid letters.

“Oh, thank you,” Justin says, turning to look down at Holster. He looks just as bewildered as Justin is at holding a tissue paper square.

“Thank you for the dinosaur book,” Andrew says. “And the mini sticks, they’re super cool.”

“No problem, buddy,” Justin replies, still feeling a little lost.

“Thank you for Rey too, I really love her!” Penny jumps in. She almost knocks Holster over when she suddenly wraps her arms around his neck. “She’s my best favourite!”

“Mine too,” Holster says, gently wrapping his arms around her and patting her on the head. Justin watches Andrew watch the hug, and grins when Andrew looks back at him like he’s contemplating a hug. He doesn’t look super enthused by the idea so Justin offers him a fist, which he happily bumps with his own, even cracking a grin when Justin does a finger wiggle-explosion at the end.

Penny pulls back from Holster, but keeps her hands on Holster’s shoulders so she can look at him seriously. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

“Uh, what?” Holster asks, looking up at Ransom again. Penny rolls her eyes.

“Open your gifts now,” Andrew fills in, jerking his head at the green package in Justin’s hand. “We need to exchange gifts for it to be a gift exchange.” He sounds a little put out at having to explain the concept of gift exchange to two adults.

“I- seriously?” Justin asks. He looks around and finds that all the kids have team up with the adults and like him and Holster, most of the adults are just as surprised as they are to find the kids holding out gifts with their names on them.

“Yeah! Open it, open it, open it!!! I wrapped and Andrew made them, but I help-ed and Mr. Adam, can I help you?”

Adam sits flat on his ass so Penny can crawl into his lap without knocking them both over, and she chatters away into his ear while he rips into it. Justin sits down too and with a little huff, Andrew joins them on the floor. He points out where the end of the tape is when Justin just keeps turning the package in his hand, touched beyond belief that these kids who don’t have much, have enough in their hearts to want to see other people happy.

Refusing to cry in front of the kids, Justin finds the seam and rips back the tape, opening the envelope to see a knotted string bracelet. He looks over to see that Holster has something similar. He has his wrist out and is letting Penny try to tie it on.

“You made this?” Justin asks Andrew, who nods, blushing slightly. “Oh man, this is super cool Andrew, thank you!”

Andrew looks down at his shoes, though Justin can still see his pleased smile. Justin leans in closer to him.

“Like the coolest thing that Hol- Adam owns probably,” he says, whispering it loud enough that he knows Adam will hear it. He gets kicked in the side for his troubles, but Adam also laughs out loud and Penny is absolutely delighted at the idea.

“Will you tie it for me?” Justin holds his hand out. Adam nods and scooches forward, balancing on his knees while he takes both ends and wraps them around Justin’s wrist. He bites his lips while he concentrates, nodding at it once when he’s finished. Justin shakes out it his hand to admire the colourful string. It doesn’t move much; Andrew’s tied it tight enough that it bites into Justin’s skin a little bit.

Honestly though?

It’s the best gift Justin’s ever gotten in an exchange.

#omgcpwinterextravaganza #ransom x holster #holsom #omgcheckplease #omgcp #i writ i write i wrote #this is fluff #there's a mention of a panic attack but it stops before it really starts #lemme know if you want me to tag for that #it's 3:40am when im posting this on december 3 #don't worry im also annoyed at myself for missing december 1 so badly #this was supposed to a little thing but then it grew and grew and grew #¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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spirit-shroud · 7 years ago

Note

if you're still taking requests, how about a plight x m!reader where they need to pretend to be married? x)

okay anon so first of all that is legitimately my favourite fanfiction trope and i love you, so here’s a fun 3.3k word fic i kinda went overboard on, but i hope its still within the lines of what you wanted ^^ Read it on ao3 in my collection of other requests here

“‘Sup! I have a favour to ask.” The voice of the lamplighter came through the phone at far too loud of a volume, and much too fast for you to keep up with. He sounded out of breath. You looked around for a clock and sighed into the receiver. “Huh? I haven’t even asked the favour yet.”

“Plight, dear, friend, pal, buddy. Bro. Dude. Can it wait? It’s six in the morning, where are you even calling me from?” You tried not to sound upset, but you definitely did. You hovered a finger over the hang up button. “…Oh, it… is really late isn’t it. Good morning! I’m at the library right now and, what are you going to be doing in, like, two hours?”

“I planned on sleeping, though that’s not happening I guess.” “Yeah, sorry. Something came up and its important. Anyways, meet me at – hold on–” You heard the sound of papers, presumably him flipping through his schedule book. “Ling’s at 8:15?” “How important is it? And you’re paying.” “Of course. And, life or death situation. I promise.” “If you’re sure. I’m going to keep being bitter about it, though.”“That’s fair. See you then, okay?” You meant to say something else, but it came out as a mildly foreboding “Soon.” before you hung up. You yawned, stretched, and decided you had the time to do whatever until 8:15. Plight wasn’t one to ask for favours ever. What could come up that he needed you for? And something that required a meeting, which was all the more odd. You made yourself presentable to the outside world and spent the rest of the morning laying about, contemplating every possible way things could go wrong. That was the most necessary step to leaving your apartment as always. The hour came and you started over. The cafe still wasn’t quite open – The lights were still being tended to by a lamp bot, and Ling filling the coffee machine. He turned around and gave you a wave. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?” “Good morning. It.. could’ve been better. But, what can you–” You yawned, interrupting your own sentence. “Do, I guess.” The boy looked at the grounds he measured, and added half a cup extra before setting the machine to brew. “It’s just a slow day already, I think. So, what can I get for you?” He gave you a happy smile. “Nothing quite yet, I’m waiting for Lampy.” You sat at the counter and put your head on it. “He’s late to his own appointment again.” “Ah… ‘Seems like you’re getting roped into this as well.” Ling laughed uncomfortably, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “I don’t like the sound of that.” “I’m just going to let him explain it. The whole deal’s pretty, ahh, interesting. But if he’s on his way I should get more coffee, give me a minute.” He dismissed himself with a wave, and you, half-asleep still, waved back. 8:15 turned into 8:45 before Plight finally showed up, covered in a mix of oil and phosphor that didn’t look comfortable at all. The scent reminded you of silly string, for some reason, and sitting next to it was as unpleasant as it sounded. His hair was equally messy, half-covered by his hat, and his hook still not rinsed off of the glow. He made finger guns at you before speaking. “I bet you’re wondering why I needed you here today,” he began, not sounding too sure of himself. “To be honest, I’m more concerned why you look like you lost a fight with a street lamp. And, isn’t phosphor highly acidic?” You tilted your head at him, trying to hold your breath. Ling passed you a mug, and Plight the remainder of the carafe of coffee, expression neutral. Same nonsense as usual. “It is, I’m, like, dying at the moment. Anyways, the worst thing happened. I got back to my house after I talked to you and stuff, except my phone’s ringing and it’s awful. Like, this guy called me in a panic because one of the morning bot crew wasn’t working. And he casually forgot to mention that it was an optical problem because some shitty kid threw rocks at the thing. I had to like, run out and buy some replacement glass which sucked let me tell you, nothing is open until like, ten these days. And, now, I’m not the guy you ask for repairing bots, but I have two things going for me. One, I’m an idiot. Two, I’m determined. So I tried my best and! Got it to work. But I also feel like I’m melting and it was a mess and I regret not just bothering someone else about it. But the east side of the city also isn’t my problem for another day SO I’d say I did a good job. That’s also why I’m so late and I apologize.” He hung his head. You blinked, processed his story a few times over, before shaking your head and taking a loooong sip of your drink. “I’m not sure what I was expecting, honestly.” Ling shrugged and left you to your confused silence. “So, breakfast?” “The usual would be great, thanks.” You sighed. “I’ll have whatever he’s having.” “Good luck, you two.” He disappeared into the back, laughing again as if he knew something.The lamplighter clapped his hands together before continuing where he left off. “Okay so back to the point. I need you to, ahh, pretend to be my husband for an uncomfortable social event?”You narrowly avoided spitting out your coffee. “One more time with that?” You heard him. You had a full understanding of what he just said. However, you were having a hard time believing it. He dug around in his pockets until he found a small package, and slid it over to you. Upon closer inspection, it was a maple-flavoured candy ring, and you stared at him for a long time. “It’s a long story.” “Get talking, then.” You were so… done. But when it came to the lamplighter, you were a pushover at heart, so you at least wanted to hear him out.“I’m not sure where to start on this one, uhh.” He scratched the back of his neck. “So I was being bugged by this girl at my other… other… job, and I kiiiinda panicked and told her I was married because I wanted her to screw off, except there’s a staff party like tonight and now I’m expected to show up there with my supposed spouse. And, I can’t even like, get out of it. My schedule is totally clear. I don’t have anyone else I can ask except for you and I’m kinda all screwed up over it.” “…That implies you already went and asked a bunch of other people.” “Yeah. See, what happened, is, Kelvin said no outright, Ling is busy and y’know him, he needs two weeks notice on everything anyways. Cedric just hung up on me, Rue is a literal fox, Kip is old, too well known, and also a lesbian, and you’re, um, starting to get the picture, I hope.” He sighed heavily. You nervously reached for his shoulder, trying to avoid the bits that were alight with phosphor. “I will help you this once, but we’re going to have to put effort into it. What’s the dress code of the party? Who’s going to be there? Will there be free food? And if we’re doing this we’re going to need legit looking wedding rings and also some fake pictures. We need to agree on an anniversary date, and some other stuff that I’m forgetting right now.” “Speaking of food–” Ling emerged from the back holding two plates, piled high with scrambled eggs, french toast, fried potatoes and bacon. To an average person, it’d be too much, but you dove into it before he even set it down. “Sorry it took so long, still setting up for the morning rush and all. Which should be.. soon…” The boy hung his head for a moment, before adjusting his apron and putting a happy smile on. He was truly the hero of customer service.Plight was staring at his plate, then at you, then back to his plate. It seemed he needed a minute. You spoke first. “It’s not a problem, we’re not in a rush or anything!! But, okay, so we need a date.” “Hm, hiking in the Glen sounds nice. Or maybe visiting the world history museum. Or, you meant like, day, didn’t you.” The boy covered his face with his palm. “Why not 45-23?” “Alrighty, so that’s our anniversary now.” You poked the lamplighter. “Still with us?” “Just. I don’t think I’ve had this much food in a year how do you do this regularly? And that say sounds good, yeah. Let me–” He scribbled it down in his notebook and nibbled at the potatoes. “You have a problem, dear.” “I’m busy, s’all.” He pouted. “This is really good by the way. And, the… Event,” he said it with such disgust, as if saying the word party would ruin the atmosphere. “Pretty straightforward. Lots of boring office people who think it’s a fashion show rather than an after-work get together where they just smacktalk their clients and drink sparkling apple juice in crystal glasses. It’s literally, like, just juice. It’s so… Tame. And boring. Anyways, the cool guys and who we’ll probably just stand around the most is the other maintenance guys who are cool as hell. We aren’t even sure why we’re invited to be honest but that makes it kind of better. So I think if we go with something that’s like, kinda flashy, but not in the ‘high class citizen who understands social cues’ area, we’ll be okay and be talked to as minimally as possible. Also if we really need to leave you can fake pass out or something.” You brought a hand to your chin in thought. “I am a pro at being dramatic. But, for outfits, I have… Nothing matching that description.” “And I have reckless spending habits! Guess we’re going to the mall for two pressing things today.”

“Okay but you have clothes at my house and you’re taking a shower first. I’ll even, like, do your laundry. Please dude.” He wiped his face and his expression soured. His hand was covered in black streaks of machine oil and whatever else. “…Ah.” The pair of you finished up, paid Ling and thanked him before crossing the skywalk into your apartment. Some hours passed before you were both ready again, but you got lots done. Enough edited photographs to fill a small album, all ready-printed and as nice looking as possible. You got a few other people in on what was happening just in case they were asked. It was above and beyond what you’d do for any other situation, but after getting over the initial shock, you realized the situation was more hilarious than anything. You worked on getting your stories straight while you walked towards the mall. You met in middle school, were close friends through high school, but fell apart sometime around college due to conflicting dreams or something (You mostly hoped nobody’d ask you to go in that much detail) when afterwards you eventually ran into each other and started dating. It wasn’t a lie, per se. The truth was definitely stretched, but not beyond recognition. You held hands while wandering around store to store to practice the idea of closeness. Something was off about it, though. You’d never known him to be the nervous sort and yet his palms seemed to get sweatier, his words a little more hesitant by the hour. Even when you’d normally be bickering about this or that was met with no resistance. It was starting to make you worried as well, but you didn’t want to mention it. It seemed while your acceptance was in the fun of things, he had a very different realization.The culmination of those anxieties passed without incident, as there were more pressing matters. Standing in front of a directory for the third time that day, a thought crossed your minds at the same time. “How do jewelry stores even work?” He looked down at you, as if you’d magically have the answer. “I’d imagine like any other store??” “But, like, do you just… walk in, and say, ‘do you by chance have two plain gold bands? Here’s my card. My ring size is 10.5’? Don’t you usually need to order things ahead of time? What if they, like, ask?” “That’s, um, a valid point. I have no idea.” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, trying to laugh it off. He followed the motion. “We need an adult.” “Plight, we’re adults. Let’s just find a place and see what happens, okay?” He sighed and tried to find the one he was looking at earlier on the map. “That’ll go well. Two bros, looking at gold rings for some… Reasons.” You walked across the mall, still hand in hand, and stared into some of the outer cases of one store you stumbled across. Everything was far too glittery for your cave eyes, and the numbers high enough to make you feel the crippling debt. “What the f–.” He paused. “Heck. Is a karat? Isn’t that a troll? Why are there fourteen of them? And this one is eighteen?” “I think it’s a measure of like, how much actual gold is in it. Since like, normal pure gold is a sucky material, they put other stuff in it so it’s not as terrible. It’s still pretty terrible, though. Also the troll you’re thinking of is something else entirely.”“That’s… informative. Also, you’re a nerd.” “I can’t argue with that.” After wandering around for awhile and looking at everything, you both realized you had no idea what you were actually doing there. You decided to settle and look elsewhere. After all, it only had to look like a gold band. You only planned on keeping it on your finger for roughly four hours. You stumbled across the exact thing you needed as you’d used up all your allocated shopping time, and started back to your apartment. He happily carried everything while you walked along. The conversation was over in a comfortable silence. It was something you’d let yourself get used to in a heartbeat. Just the two of you– Wait. He actually was talking and you missed it…? You shook your head as you leaned against the wall of the elevator, and the lamplighter stared at you blankly. “Did you hear any of what I just said?” “Um,” you stared at the ceiling, then the floor. “Nope.” “That’s fair, first of all. To recap, it starts in about two hours, and it’s a fifteen minute walk, so we have some time to sit down before getting ready and everything. You look exhausted.” He managed to keep every bag on one arm, and offered his other one out to you. You took it, despite not looking happy about it. “I’m not used to going anywhere, since my office is right in my building. I think this’ll be the most anything I’ve done for awhile.” “You really need to get out more.” “And do what? Bask in the sunlight?” Your expression deadpanned.“Okay that was cold. But yeah, I remember you mentioning a few weeks ago you were pretty stir-crazy. Like, hey, maybe you could set up shop in the library sometime? And then I could, like, visit, since I end up there so much anyway.” “I’m sure I could bother George about it sometime, depending on the day… And, next time you’re free we should lay around, watch some movies, the usual. It sure has been awhile.” “Yeah, it… has. This is the first time we’ve actually spent together in months. Kind of strange, given the circumstances.” You both chuckled. You unlocked your door, took off your boots, and immediately laid on the floor. It was nice to be home. Plight got to cutting tags off of your clothes and it went back to a content quiet. The whole situation was starting to feel too domestic and you were wishing for a distraction. You weren’t opposed to it, but you also didn’t want to let yourself get used to it. It was just one night and if it didn’t mean anything six hours ago, it wasn’t going to now. You looked at the clock and sighed at it, which was echoed back. This became a contest over who could sigh the loudest, but it devolved into laughing quickly. You picked your clothes up from the pile. “We should, um, get ready, it’s almost time.” “Oh, you’re right–” You disappeared into your room and left him to his own devices, emerging a few minutes later. You wore brown pants, a beige shirt, dark green suspenders and a bowtie to match. You admired yourself in the mirror but the same feeling of something being off came back. You ran a brush through your hair and tried to look back, but to no avail. The more you tried to nitpick and adjust things the more awkward it felt to be in. A lot of things were like that, you thought. The more you tried to push away small imperfections the more the original picture was lost. Your mind trailed back to the man in the other room. You figuratively wiped the blush off your face and walked out to greet him. He eyed you up and down. “It looks dumb, doesn’t it?” You deflated, staring at him. You realized you’d never actually seen him outside of his usual long coat. You wished you could’ve a long time ago. You decided to leave the mental comments there.“No! I mean, you look… nice.” He turned away. “So I was kind of thinking, what if instead of sitting by a punch bowl for like, three hours to prove something, we actually do something… fun?” Thinking about it, you shrugged. “Did you have any specific ideas?” He raised a finger, then lowered it. A few seconds later he raised it again, only to lower it again. “Not yet. I haven’t gotten that far. But it’d be like, a date? If that’s cool? I mean, if it’s not then it’s fine and just forget it but I’ve been thinking about it most of the day and???” He ran out of breath and it took some effort to recollect it. “Y’know. At least I hope.” “I’d be down for a date,” you hesitantly said, not too sure of your own words. “But, just to clarify, you did ask some other people to this thing first before settling for me, right?” He tensed up for a minute. “Don’t call it settling. But, I did, and I had a lot of fun today, and accidentally revived some old feelings? Which was… a journey in itself, and then I also decided I don’t really need to prove anything to anyone. Life is too short to stress about dumb things and if anyone decides to bother me about it, I can tell them in loud, rainbow details about the better night I had with my ‘husband’ until they regret asking.” He offered his arm out, which you linked with yours. “That sure is a lot to come out of today.” You were happy to lean on him. You also wished, quite a lot, in fact, you were better at stringing words together. “I put in a lot of unnecessary effort to not make it weird? But then it was weird anyways, and, ahh. Let’s just go for a walk and see if we find anything interesting.” “Sounds good to me.”

#souls fanfiction requests #my writing #its more plight/reader because im traaaaaaaaaaaash #@god please dont mess up my formatting because i went back to add tags

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