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machine-gun-casie · 4 years ago

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Funnel Cakes, Ferris Wheels, And Some Feelings

anon: A fluffy best friends to lovers concept with MGK where he and the reader spend the day at the carnival and end up admitting their feelings for each other on the Ferris wheel👉🏼🥺👈🏼

wc: 2.3k

tw: bad driving, food, a tik tok song if u squint.

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“Colson, please.” You whined, dragging out the ‘please’.

“I already said no.” He spoke monotonously without looking up from his phone. You pouted and gave him your best puppy eyes. “Stop with that shit you do with your eyes. It’s cute, but it’s not cute enough.”

“Then what is cute enough?” You threw your head back to add to the dramatics. “I really wanna go, but a carnival is no fun alone. I mean, I’m guessing.”

“You’re guessing?” Colson raised his eyebrows at you and only slightly lowered his phone. “If you’ve never been to a carnival alone, now’s a great time.”

“No,” you laughed and shoved his shoulder, “I’ve never been to a carnival period.”

“You’ve never been to a carnival?!” Colson asked a little too loudly in disbelief. “How have you never been to a carnival?”

You shrugged and made that hum people do when they have no clue. “I figured since this one’s in town, we could go together.” You let out a long heavy sigh and flopped onto Colson, pulling out an ‘oomph’ from the blonde haired giraffe boy. “But if you really don’t wanna go…”

“Alright, get up.” The words were short and clipped, and Colson only pulled out this tone when he was serious.

“What? Are we going?” Sitting up a little too fast, you looked at Colson with eyes that were incredibly hopeful.

“Yes, we’re going. Go put on your shoes.” He nodded and pointed to your shoes by the door.

“Aaah!” You squealed obnoxiously loud and smiled when you saw Colson wince. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Colson pushed you farther away from him with a gentle kick of his legs against yours and closer to the door. “Go! Before I change my damn mind!”

“You’re no fun.” You pouted, dropping to the floor to put on your shoes.

“I’m taking you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes but a soft smile slowly spread across your face. You jumped up and looped your arm through Colson’s when you were done, hugging his arm close to your chest. “Thank you.”

Colson noted the genuine sincerity in your voice and his demeanor softened as he led you out of the front door. You and him were always bickering, but everyone, including the two of you, knew that it was only playing around. “You know I was gonna take you as soon as you mentioned it, right?”

“I know. I’m just- yeah, I’m just thankful. For you.” You chuckled and shook your head, stopping in front of the car. “Fuck. That was really sappy, huh?”

“Oh yeah, way too fucking sappy.” Colson nodded, a teasing smirk on his face. He opened the passenger door for you and held out his hand to help you in. When you put your hand in his, he grasped it and pulled you closer. You let out a sigh as he pulled you into a hug, your arms around his waist and one of his was around your shoulders while the other cradled your head. He placed a chaste kiss to your forehead and smiled. “But sappy isn’t always bad.”

The car ride to the carnival was about as hectic as any car ride with Colson. A few red lights ignored here, a few fire hydrants almost crashed into there, and a long hearty giggle fest at the tree Colson almost burned down not that long ago. You arrived faster than the google maps approximation of an hour, L.A. traffic surprisingly not that bad. Still very very bad. But less so than usual.

“Alright!” Colson slapped his hand on the roof of the car as soon as you were parked and out of your seats. “Rule number one of carnivals: Funnel Cakes!”

He pointed towards a stall right past the ticket vendor, and he was clearly right as people flooded from the ticket vendor right up to the food truck.

“I think we need to get tickets first.” You chuckled, rounding the length of the car and reaching Colson. You grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the ticket vendor.

“I know that.” Colson rolled his eyes. “Aside from the obvious, there’s rules to going to a carnival.”

“Oh, is there?” You asked, humoring him.

“Definitely.” Colson nodded as seriously as he could. “You have to eat funnel cake, you have to go on the carousel, you have to win a huge ass teddy bear, and you have to end the night on the ferris wheel.”

“In that order?” You asked once you had secured your place in line at the ticket vendor.

“And no other order.”

“Does the bear go on the ferris wheel or does it wait on the ground?” You asked, always the logical one. “It could fit on the ferris wheel, right? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I’d steal a huge ass teddy bear left unattended. Can’t blame someone else if they felt those same urges towards our future abandoned huge ass teddy bear.”

“You make some great points.” Colson nodded, moving forward in line. Now only three other couples stood ahead of you.

You mentally scolded yourself for the use of the word ‘other’. You were not a couple. Colson is your best friend. Nothing else. You weren’t even sure if he considered you his closest friend. He had so many, it was hard not to compare yourself to them. All the clips online, the videos he posts late at night, the stories he’s told you of wild nights out. You felt like you could never compare.

Colson was always so calm with you. Made you wonder, did he slow down his usual escapades for you? Were you holding him back?

“-if not, we’ll put it in the car.”

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you shook yourself out of your thoughts.

“We can put the bear in the car if there’s no space on the ferris wheel.” Colson repeated himself, eyebrows furrowing like yours. “Where’d you go there?”

“Hmm? Oh, nowhere. Yeah, bear in the car if need be.” You looked ahead in the line and saw that there were now two couples in front of you. “You know, if you really don’t like carnivals, we can head back. We haven’t bought any tickets or anything-”

“Hey, woah, what?” Colson interrupted you. “No, you can’t do that to me! Now I’m excited to win you a huge ass teddy bear! We’re not going anywhere.”

“Alright alright, I was just making sure!” You defended yourself. You felt the blood rush to your ears at Colson’s words. He was gonna win you the teddy bear. Like a sappy movie. Yeah this was definitely not helping your feelings.

Tickets were bought soon after, and true to his word, Colson’s first order of business was buying each of you a funnel cake.

“With this, there’s something you gotta keep in mind.” You nodded for him to continue. “You do not think of how ginormous it is. You just eat that shit. Every last bite. You gotta finish it, even if it’s too much.”

“I don’t think I can eat the whole thing, it’s huge!” You held the extremely large deep fried web of cake up to show him how truly gigantic the serving was.

Colson opened his mouth to tell you ‘yes, you still have to finish it. no exceptions.’ But then he saw your face. Fuck. He really couldn’t say no to you, could he? “Fine, you can give the rest to me. But only ‘cause it’s your first time!” When you smiled and nodded, Colson felt a wave of joy course through him. And after that a shock wave of fear.

This was not the time nor the place for his romantic feelings for you to come up. He really thought that he had successfully shoved those feelings deep into the recesses of his mind, but alas their heads keep rearing back into the forefront of his brain. He felt wrong about the feelings he had for you. Almost like he was taking advantage of you. He felt like you would regret all the time you spent together if you found out that during every movie night, every late night grocery run, and every early morning drive, Colson had a raging boner of the heart for you. He chuckled because he knew that his phrasing would bring you to a giggling heap on the ground.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’.” He smiled to himself and looked down at his funnel cake.

“No, now you gotta tell me.” You smiled, glad to see that your best friend didn’t seem to hate being here. “Spill, hot stuff.”

Colson flushed at the nickname and cleared his throat. “Just thinking about how Case would have loved this place.”

“Yeah, I bet she would.” You mused as you looked around at all the kids running around. “You should bring her the next time she comes down here. If it’s still around, I’m not su-”

“We should.” Colson corrected you, stopping you mid sentence.

“Hm?”

“We should take her. Yeah, she’ll like it if I brought her to one of these.” He shrugged. “But she’d go crazy if you came too. She’s obsessed with you, you know?”

“I can’t blame her, I’m amazing.” You shrugged with a smirk.

“Ha ha ha.” Colson dusted off his hands and reached over to pop the last piece of your funnel cake into his mouth. “Get your ass up, it’s carousel time mother fucker!”

Carnival activities took more time than you thought. The games took time because of the long lines at every stall, and the rides took time because the operator couldn’t start them until most of the seats were filled. In conclusion, when Colson said that you were to end the night with the ferris wheel, you really didn’t think it would be dark out by the time you were lugging the huge ass teddy bear towards the colorful manifestation of the fear of heights.

Thankfully the ferris wheel had four seater booths, so the teddy bear you affectionately named Wild Boy got to ride with you. You sat him on the bench opposite you and Colson and fastened his seat belt just to be safe. Once you were settled and the ride started moving, you let out a content sigh.

“That was so much fun.”

“Yeah?” Colson asked, placing his arm around your shoulders. You nodded and pulled yourself closer into his side. “What was your favorite part?”

“Definitely when you wasted six tickets to get Mr. Boy over here.” You giggled.

“Hey!” Colson raised his hand a little. “How dare you say that was a waste. It was an honor using up six of our precious tickets. I don’t think you get it, y/n. I had to get you this big ass teddy bear.”

“You had to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup.” He popped the p and nodded, looking straight ahead and trying his hardest to keep a neutral facial expression. “Them’s the rules.”

Your face broke out into a tightlipped smile as your giggled escaped as puffs of air through your nose. “Where is this rulebook of carnival trips?”

“Up here, baby.” Colson grinned, tapping his temple. “I haven’t gotten it published yet, but I don’t know if I will.”

“Mmm.” You hummed and nodded. “The information is too sacred for the public.”

There was a lull in the conversation, leaving you to review the last few spoken words between the two of you. You sat up a little straighter and furrowed your brows once you recalled Colson’s previous words.

“What?”

“Oh my god, did you,” you paused and turned to look at Colson, “did you call me baby?”

Colson had never called you that. Come to think of it, Colson has never called you anything but your name. Not that you were complaining, but the deviation certainly stood out to you. You couldn’t blame him really, you had to stop yourself from calling him something similar all day. Today’s activities felt almost too much like a date. But you thought you only felt like that because you had feelings for him.

Colson looked straight ahead and furrowed his brows in thought before he slowly turned to you. “Maybe.”

“Uh.” You felt a small smile sneak itself on your face.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I like that.” You tried to respond nonchalantly, mentally face-palming yourself over the words you chose.

“Cool.” Colson smiled and relaxed, leaning back again.

You both stayed silent for a few moments, simply processing. Then you quickly snapped back to face Colson only to see that he had done the same thing.

“Wait, does that mean-”

“Fuck man, it better.”

Your eyes grew wide when you actually realized what just happened. You reached out and pulled Colson towards you so quickly that the ferris wheel booth you were sitting in shook. You looped your arms around his neck and quickly placed your lips on his. Before you could question whether or not he wanted this too, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

When you pulled away, you saw that you were halfway through your trip on the ferris wheel, leaving you and Colson at the very top. “Holy shit, I’d like to quote Mod and say ‘movie.’”

Colson couldn’t help but agree. It was the most cinematic moment of the day.

“So you’re telling me, this whole fucking time-” Colson couldn’t help but chuckle. “I thought you liked Baze!”

“Baze?!” You gasped. “No! It’s been you, it’s been you for a long time.”

“Good, ‘cause it’s been you for a long time for me too.” Colson grinned. “Does that mean I can kiss you all the time now?”

“You never even have to ask.”

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nothere-notthere-nowhere · 4 years ago

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Studying

Word count: 1704

Pairing: Natasha x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: panic attack, let me know if I missed any

Summary: Studying for an exam is overwhelming. Nat helps.

A/N: Hi! So, this is very much just me projecting my own thoughts and feelings onto the reader lol. There’s no real romance here, just Nat being a good friend. I also did not edit this, so I apologize for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

It was late, you realized as you closed your textbook. You’d been studying for some stupid math final the next day and time had clearly gotten away from you.

Balancing avenger work with being a full-time student was difficult but you enjoyed it, for the most part. Thankfully, it was online schooling so you were able to complete work on your own time, but it was still difficult. Deciding to go back to school in your mid twenties had been a big step for you.

You’d always hated school. It never came easy, despite being a science genius. You were what most people called brilliant. You thought it was just being creative. You thought in a different way than most people. Tony Stark had sought you out when you were fresh out of high school right before the invasion of New York.

But, despite having a secure job working for the avengers in the compound, you had decided it wouldn’t be a bad thing to go back to school. Just because you were good at making supersuits and other technological advancement-esque stuff didn’t mean you were that smart.

For example, calc two was kicking your ass right now. Making new impact resistant polymer suits for the gang was a hell of a lot easier for you than whatever the fuck this textbook was trying to explain.

“Stupid math,” you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face as you looked back down at the problem you’d already tried to solve four times. There was no way in hell you were going to pass this class.

Fighting back tears of frustration as you crumpled up the paper, you stood from your desk. It was near three in the morning and you were exhausted. But you would not let yourself fail this exam. Your grade in the class was already less than acceptable and failing your final would definitely leave you with an F.

You walked to the kitchen quietly, not wanting to wake anyone. Coffee would surely settle you down and give you enough energy to make it until the morning. You had to figure this out.

“I told you to ask Tony or Bruce for help,” Natasha’s voice startled you.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” You asked, drying your eyes before you turned to her.

“No, don’t worry.” She had an amused look on her face. “You’re still on calc, right?”

“Yeah,” your shoulders slumped. “But I have to be able to do this on my own. I shouldn’t have to annoy them with questions about basic math all the time.”

“Calculus is not basic math.” Natasha snorts at you.

“To them it is.”

“Well, make sure you go to sleep at some point, okay?” The concern in her eyes was evident and you just nodded, grabbing the cup of coffee you’d just brewed.

You took a sip before making your way back to your room. The textbook sat right where you’d left it and the sight of it bright a fresh wave of tears.

You were a scientist for the avengers, damn it. Why were you crying over math? But your parents words flashed through your brain, reminding you that you were just a stupid kid.

The relationship between you and your parents had always been rocky. They had held you to unachievable standards and no matter how much effort you put into school, they were never satisfied. And they always made sure you knew that.

“You think you’ll get anywhere in life with grades like these?” your father had shouted at you many times. “You’re just lazy. Do you know how much money we pay for you to go to this school? And this is how you repay us? You’re embarrassing.”

Your hand shook as you picked up your pencil once again, trying to figure out that stupid problem. There were so many rules and steps and none of them made sense to you!

When the answer you got still didn’t match the one in the textbook, you slammed your pencil down with a scoff.

“You’re so stupid!” You said to yourself, tears leaking from your eyes. You started to erase your own writing again, when you glanced at the time, half past three. You were never going to figure this out.

It was becoming hard to read the problems through your watery eyes as you fought back the tears. You had to figure this out! But it was no use, you dropped your head onto the desk, holding in sobs.

Your thoughts began to run with your father’s words. Embarrassing, lazy, stupid. You felt that familiar sense of self-loathing begin to rise within you and you were helpless. This wasn’t even the last unit you had to learn before your final.

You were overwhelmed and you didn’t realize that your chest was tightening or your breath was becoming short. But when you lost feeling in your hands, and your face was tense and tingling, it was obvious.

You were having a panic attack.

You were no stranger to these, of course. But, that didn’t make it any easier. It had been quite some time since you’d had a panic attack this severe, too, which made it that much scarier.

You slid off your chair, pressing your back against the wall and pulling your knees up to your chest. You screwed your eyes shut, the heels of your shaking hands pressing into your eyes. If you had more control over the situation, you’d have tried to quiet your hyperventilation.

A soft touch to your hand brought you somewhat back to reality.

“Y/N,” a soft voice called. Your fingers instinctively clutched at the hand that pulled yours away from your face.

“Y/N, you’re okay. I’m right here.” Nat’s voice was softer than you may have ever heard it before.

“Nat, I-I,” you choked out, trying to say anything.

“No, don’t talk. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Her free hand rested on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Can you breathe with me?”

You tried to follow her soft ‘In’ and ‘out’ over and over. Your breaths were forced, almost painful as the panic refused to let up.

“Good job, dorogoy,” You felt the redhead scoot next to you, her arm wrapping around your shaking frame. “You’re doing amazing, I’ve got you.”

She pulled you into her gently. You were starting to gain the feeling back into your hands, and your facial muscles seemed to loosen just slightly. But, you were still shaking violently as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing.

“You’re okay,” Nat soothed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m here.”

You leaned into her, balling your fist up in her shirt.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked after you had nearly stopped crying.

“I’m gonna fail,” you whimpered. You felt pathetic.

“You know,” Nat sighed, “who cares?”

“What?” Her words confuse you.

“You are smart, Y/N. You already have a job, and after working for Stark, you could get in anywhere if you decided to leave. This is one class and regardless of how you do on the final, no one will think any less of you.”

“But-”

“No,” Nat cut you off. “Your grades in some stupid college class don’t matter. I promise, even if you do fail, we’ve all seen how hard you’ve worked in each of your classes. That’s what matters. Your work ethic and your commitment to your studies is worth so much more than sacrificing your wellbeing to secure a passing grade.”

“I feel so stupid.”

“You shouldn't. It’s a tough class. You should be proud of yourself for trying, even if you don’t get the results you wanted.”

“I just wanted to prove them wrong. Even if they wouldn’t know. I wanted to prove to them I was smart. But they were right, I’m just stupid.”

Your words hang in the air for a moment. Natasha knows you’re talking about your parents. They’d all heard about the verbal abuse you’d suffered through at the hands of the people who’d raised you.

“You are not stupid.” She tells you firmly. “You are brilliant. You’ve created a new polymer that is even better at stopping bullets than vibranium while also working as a material for clothing. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Yeah, but…”

“This is just one subject. I sure as hell can’t do calculus! You’re good at what you’re good at. I’m good at kicking ass, Clint’s good with a bow, Wanda’s good at… well magic. You’re good at science shit.”

You were silent. You knew she had a point.

“I know that won’t make you feel better about this.” Natasha explains. “But you can’t beat yourself up for this. You need to take care of yourself. Let’s go to bed, now, and we can ask Tony or Bruce for help in the morning.”

“I need to study,” you start.

“No, you need sleep.” Natasha’s voice is firm again. “You can’t sacrifice your health or your sanity for a test. You are more important than a test.”

“Okay.” You weren’t entirely convinced but, for now, your parent’s words were fading away.

Natasha helps you up before wrapping her arms around you in a tight hug. You savor the comfort of her embrace, before realizing just how exhausted you are.

“Get in bed,” Natasha nudges you towards the bed. You lay down, eyes closing as soon as your head hits the pillow.

Nat pulls the blanket up before turning towards the door.

“Wait,” you call, hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“Stay?” You bite the inside of your cheek. “Please?”

“Of course, dorogoy,” Natasha smiles at you as she slides into bed next to you.

“Thank you,” you mutter, laying your head on her chest as her arms wrap around you tightly. She presses a gentle kiss to your head.

You know you’ll freak in the morning when you have to think about the final again. But Natasha was here now, and Bruce and Tony would be there in the morning. It would be okay. One failed exam, one failed class-- hell, even every class failed-- was no indication of your worth. And Nat would be there to remind you if you ever forgot.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #natasha x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x reader

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mbti-notes · 3 years ago

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Anon wrote: Hi. I hope you had/are having a great summer break. I (INTP) am hoping for some perspective about an issue. Recently, my mother, whom I hadn’t seen in a while, became incredibly frustrated that I corrected her with an alleged “I know everything” attitude.

It’s an issue of concern because she revealed that I always do this. I guess this was the straw that broke it, especially given that what we were discussing was very trivial. (Maybe the frivolousness of the subject is precisely what made my correction seem more pedantic, unnecessary, arrogant.) She says that my attitude disregards her long life experience, and that if she were a stranger, she would think of me as a “snot-nosed brat who knows nothing about life” instead of as a “wise young person”, which is the viable alternative. She said that I am closed-minded and that I shoot everything down. (The problem of small-mindedness is what you addressed the only other time I wrote to you.)

I don’t know why I come off as arrogant. I’m sure that I’m not. I asked my mother what it was that made her think that, which she thought was a silly question because what she sensed was a general demeanor rather than specific behaviors. In the end we were only able to establish that my lack of eye contact was one of those factors. I can work on that, but surely that’s not determinant. What makes people think of others as arrogant? Should I stop correcting people? I don’t correct others in order to feel superior to them. I do it because I like to debate, in order to keep my thinking sharp, and because there is something painful about friends/family having false notions. I think it’s fair to say that my intention isn’t rooted in arrogant soils.

Granted, my suggestion of stopping correcting people is black-and-white, given that there is the grey option of changing the *way* I correct people. I’m just wondering if it’s an unhealthy habit in the first place. But given how prevalent a thought process it is (i.e. questioning people’s statements and finding faults), the process of getting rid of it may be akin to self-directed psychological violence. I mean, this is the same mode of being that makes me good at what I’m good at. (There’s also the option of keeping the thought process, but not correcting people aloud, but I don’t know what else there is to talk about other than analyzing ideas and their faults. Maybe I should analyze ideas for their strengths too, and express that side more than the faults.)

So anyway, let’s go with grey: So far I’ve tried thinking of an arrogant person that I know in order to understand my behavior, but I can’t think of anyone. Also, no matter how hard I try to put myself in someone else’s shoes in order to simulate an interaction with myself, it doesn’t really work, and I can’t see the arrogance, except if I were to just tell someone “that’s wrong” without any explanation. (I wonder if that’s what went wrong in the conversation with my mother.) Either way, this whole issue boils down to the fact that I’m not arrogant by any reasonable criteria that I found online, but that I come off as such. This was longer than intended. Thanks for your kindness and help.

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Here are some questions for you to reflect on. They are meant to increase awareness of your underlying assumptions, beliefs, and values. Answer honestly:

Do you care about your mom? Do you care about how she's faring, what she's experiencing, what she's thinking or feeling, what she needs and desires, what she hopes for or aspires to, etc?

If you care, how do you SHOW your care to her?

If you don't care, how does that affect your behavior toward her?

Do you believe that the mother-child relationship only goes one-way? (Is it the mom's job to do for you but you owe her nothing?)

You say you like to debate to sharpen your mind. Innocent enough. I like to roller skate to keep myself physically fit. In an ideal world, I would never take my skates off. Does my enthusiasm for roller skating mean that I slap my skates on anywhere, any time? No. Surely it is inappropriate to skate around a hospital or the supermarket. Not only could I seriously harm myself, I would also be exhibiting flagrant disregard for the safety and well-being of others.

What you like to do for yourself sometimes comes into conflict with other people. If you care about people and hope to have healthy and happy relationships with them, you have to take their needs and wants into consideration in every interaction. You have to abide by ethical rules and principles that allow your needs to be met without neglecting the needs of others or interfering with their ability to get their needs met. Without ethics, society wouldn't be able to function, because it would just be a free-for-all.

You mention small-mindedness. It is quite small-minded to walk around the world only thinking about what you need/want. In the best case scenario, you are completely oblivious to others, and they will perceive you as clueless or self-absorbed. In the worst case scenario, you only interact with people for your own personal gain, and that would make you an exploitative or even abusive person. Is that the kind of person you want to be?

Do you basically treat people as though their sole purpose on earth is to debate you and help you sharpen your mind - to serve you? Do you launch into debates with people without asking for consent or checking to see if they want to be corrected? If you do, they will call you arrogant, not because you've put yourself on a pedestal and call yourself superior like an evil cartoon character, but because you are communicating to them that your needs/wants are most important AND you don't give a damn about theirs.

Webster's definition of arrogance: "an insulting way of thinking or behaving that comes from believing that you are better, smarter, or more important than other people". You believe that you know better, otherwise, you wouldn't grant yourself the social authority to intrude on people's boundaries, invalidate their experience, and correct them uninvited. You believe that you are smarter, otherwise, you wouldn't automatically assume the dominant social role of corrector. You behave as though you are the more important member of the relationship because your main priority is YOUR need to feel better (about your skills or about what others believe) while overlooking the other person's needs. Seems like you fit the definition quite well.

Despite that, I wouldn't call you arrogant because I understand that small-mindedness is a difficult problem to overcome. I see the effort that you're putting in to understand it. I'm charitable because I'm not the one who was hurt by your behavior. When people feel hurt, they often have difficulty expressing it. Maybe it comes out clumsily or they aren't able to explain their hurt without hurting you in return. Expressing one's true feelings is to make oneself vulnerable. If someone doesn't trust you to understand and validate their feelings or, worse, they believe that you will attack them for their feelings, they will not be completely honest with you. Your mom is trying her best to give you the benefit of the doubt by saying "if you were a stranger...", but she doesn't feel comfortable enough with you to express her hurt fully and explicitly as it happens. Why? Because the very reason she is hurt in the first place is that you have shown very little regard for her feelings. Following from the previous post of yours, the root of the problem is that you have such a poor understanding of feelings to begin with that you view them as inconsequential in yourself and others (very immature Fe).

I believe you have no ill-intent. I have said before that the typical Ti dom never sets out to hurt people on purpose. Rather, they hurt people unintentionally because their perspective is too small: 1) they don't grasp that other people's needs may be very different from their own and thereby fail to consider them, 2) they don't know how to empathize with different perspectives and validate them, and/or 3) they don't understand that SHOWING love and care is necessary for people to justify continued investment in the relationship.

In other words, Ti doms tend to hurt people out of negligence or acts of omission. Some of them get frustrated at not being able to solve their relationship problems. They might try to convince themselves that doing nothing means that no harm can be done, so they adopt a passive stance in the relationship and perhaps even train themselves to keep their mouth shut (self-violence). They fail to understand that there's more than one way to cause hurt. Instead of learning better relationship skills, they check out mentally and emotionally. Being checked out only makes it worse because you hurt yourself and you keep hurting others by being even less attentive to their needs.

The foundation of meaningful relationships is showing care. In a healthy relationship, people trust you to care for their emotional needs and not violate their personal boundaries. If you only attend to your own needs/wants in social interaction, you are signalling that you don't really care about the other person. This problem with your mom shows that you give little to no consideration for emotional needs and personal boundaries. If you don't want friends, it's entirely your choice to be alone for the rest of your life, pretending that you never leave any footprints behind you. If you want friends, you'll have to put out more effort to be a better friend, by paying more attention to the consequences of your behavior.

Doing things that violate trust and boundaries, even if unintentional, causes hurt. When people feel hurt and don't feel safe to express the hurt, they are liable to say/do negative things. To have good emotional intelligence is to see past the surface of their negative words/behavior and grasp the underlying emotional needs that were unmet and/or the personal boundaries that were violated. Only then can you be a morally responsible member of a relationship, in terms of owning all the ways that you impact people, both positively and negatively.

Arrogant people don't care about the social impact they produce. As long as they get what they want and don't lose anything, the existence of others is of little importance to them. If your mom is important to you, then learn how to show it better by listening to her when she tells you about her needs/wants. You hyperfocus on the literal meaning of the word "arrogant" and whether it is true/false of you, as though proving it false means that there's nothing wrong. You need to listen to the people you have hurt, if you want to understand why your behavior is hurtful. Alternatively, you need to educate yourself about emotional needs, interpersonal boundaries, and what constitutes un/ethical behavior and why.

#intp #intp relationships #inferior fe #arrogance #small minded #communication #social skills #people skills #emotional intelligence #relationships #ask

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rjhpandapaws · 4 years ago

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How a Family is Built

Chapter 1: It Starts with a Couple of Good Friends

Connor took some time on his own after the revolution. It had seemed like the most fitting thing to do. Very few androids trusted him, though he couldn’t blame them, so he didn’t believe he would be that welcome at Jericho. The hug he and Hank had shared had been nice but there was a defined line between coworkers and housemates that Connor didn’t feel that he would be permitted to cross. Not to mention being temporarily unemployed meant that he wouldn’t be able to contribute to the household which would have been unfair to Hank. He was CyberLife’s crowing achievement, he could figure something out. As it turned out, there weren’t too many places that were willing to hire you when the only thing you had done was hunt your own kind, and failed at that too. Sure, he was one of the faces of the Revolution, but that seemed to hurt more than it helped him. Some places seemed to believe that he was applying for jobs to make a point instead of the fact that he actually needed one and turned him away. He considered a dog walking service but only briefly because as much as he liked dogs they didn’t always seem to like him. He assumed it was because he didn’t smell like anything organic and that meant danger in most cases.

So he wandered instead and picked up odd jobs when and wherever he could. He was intentionally vague about his whereabouts and what he was doing whenever Markus or Hank reached out to him. He was aware he was probably causing them more worry than relief, but he wasn’t ready to admit that his venture into the real world had been a failure. That despite all that he had been built to be he had failed. He wasn’t sure how much of that fear was his own and how much of it was from what failure had meant for him before the Revolution. He was still trying to parse Connor from RK800. He was aware that there was only so much separation that could be done, but he still wanted to know the difference between his deviancy and his base code. Hank and Markus would both say that it wasn’t important, but they also hadn’t had an angry AI rip everything out from under them. She had been quiet since CyberLife had been returned to Elijah, but he wanted to know what his natural state of being was just in case she ever returned. He wanted to know what normal was in the event he would have to fight his way back again. Hank would have called him paranoid, but he felt he had a right to be after everything that had happened to him. Reality was a luxury in his situation and he wanted to keep his grip on it as best he could. If that meant wandering aimlessly through Detroit then that was what he would do.

The thing about friends is that when they only hear from you on occasion and don’t see you for nearly a year apparently they get worried. Connor couldn’t explain what had happened to him between when he saw Markus at a cafe and when he woke up in Hank’s living room. Before this crash he hadn’t gone into proper stasis in months. He got a few minutes here or there, but never enough to sort out the ever growing pile of errors in his code. “He finally back with us?” Came Hank’s voice from somewhere in the house. “Yeah. He’s back online, he just needs a few moments to recalibrate.” That was Markus’s voice, and from far closer than Connor would have liked. He was only made aware of the interface that had kept Markus so close to him because of the notification he received when it was terminated. He let his systems finish calibrating before he opened his eyes. He felt notably less sluggish now and the dread of the feeling that he had been slipping away from himself was nearly gone. He sat up carefully and took in his surroundings. He was in Hank’s house and it was much more clean that it had been on his last visit. “Welcome back to the land of the living Kid.” Hank remarked as he walked into the living room with a bottle of thirium in one hand and a light beer in the other. Some habits refused to die he supposed.

“Thank you.” He said as he took the offered thirium bottle, “Sorry for taking up your couch.” Hank rolled his eyes as he sat in the open space on the couch, “You can make it up to me by being honest about where you’ve been the past few months and why you haven’t been sleeping.” “Androids don’t-” Connor started. “It’s a turn of phrase Connor.” Hank cut him off, “Now out with it.” “Take your time.” Markus said in a way that would have been reassuring if Connor hadn’t been so on edge, “I’m here if you would rather interface.” He watched Markus pack up the laptop and various tablets he had likely been using to monitor him while he had been in stasis. Did he dare tell them the truth and admit to being a failure? It didn’t come with the same consequences as before but something about it still didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to face their disappointment. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Hank putting a hand on his knee. “Nothing short of having gone back to tracking down Deviants is going to upset us Con, I promise.” Hank said and gave his leg a reassuring squeeze, “But you haven’t slept in close to six months and between that and never hearing from you, we’re worried. We just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“You’ve been checking for your Amanda program again.” Markus pressed, his tone was less frantic than Hank’s but the worry was still there, “We made sure that she was gone. Your Mind Palace is your own now.” “Is that what’s bothering you Connor?” Hank asked. “Part of it.” He admitted as he blinked away the stress warning that popped up on his HUD, “I want to be sure what I’m feeling is mine and not just my code. That it won’t be taken away again as soon as I make a mistake.” He hadn’t meant to let all of that out, but once he had started he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out short of shutting off his vocal processor. Hank looked surprised and Markus looked worried. “Connor, we wouldn’t let something like that happen to you.” Markus said as he reached out for Connor. His synthskin hadn’t fallen away but Connor knew he was offering to interface, to be a median if that would be easier. “You trust us don’t you?” “Of course I do.” He agreed, “Its myself and my systems that I don’t trust. How do I know that I’m actually Deviant? How can we be sure this isn’t just another last ditch effort by CyberLife to undo everything? How do I know that any of this is real?” “Alright, fuck this.” Hank sighed as he stood, “Time to get the dog. He’ll know if its you or not. You’re his goddamn favorite after all.”

Connor found himself looking around the room as he finally noticed the absence of a certain four legged beast. He set the empty thirium bottle on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch. That was all the time he had to brace himself. He heard an excited boof and the scramble of paws on the hardwood floor. “Go find him, go find Connor.” Hank encouraged. Connor found himself buried under an excited Saint Bernard only a few moments later. He felt himself smile genuinely for the first time in months. He buried his face and hands in the dog’s fur and felt a rush of relief. Sumo had recognized him, which meant at the very least that today was real. Had he been able to he would have cried. “The big lug missed you just like the rest of us.” Hank said from behind him, “I had to pull him away from the door the first couple of weeks you were gone. He thought that every little sound on the other side was you.” “I’m sorry.” He said from his place buried in Sumo’s side. “Just keep in touch this time Kid.” He said as he laid a hand on Connor’s shoulder, “Or tell us where you’ve been staying so we can come and visit you instead.” Connor hesitated for a long moment caught between lying; which would lower Hank’s concern; or telling the truth and making him upset. He settled for the truth, “I haven’t really been staying anywhere in particular.”

He was met with a long stretch of silence before Markus decided to speak up, “Do you mean that you have been homeless or something else?” The concern in his voice made Connor flinch. “I don’t have a place to stay.” He confessed, “If I was working I would stay there if I was able to.” He heard Hank sigh from behind him, “Connor you could have come back here if you needed to.” “I didn’t want to disappoint you because I couldn’t do this on my own.” Connor said. He sat up but continued to pet Sumo who had finally calmed down, “I’m designed to be able to adapt and I couldn’t even get a job.” “Stop that Connor.” Hank said firmly, “I wouldn’t have been disappointed. I know it seems like it, but I’m not mad, I’m just worried.” He walked around to the front of the couch so he could look Connor in the eye, “Finding a job is hard, it always has been, but the odds are stacked against you because of what you’re known for. I know its not what you want to do, but I can talk to Jeff about you coming back to the station.” “There is always a place for you at Jericho as well if you would rather that.” Markus took a moment when he noticed Connor’s hesitation, “You can stay with me if that works better. We could always use a liaison with the police, I know it isn’t ideal, but we can give you that much until you can find something else that interests you.”

“There aren’t many androids that are willing to trust me. Are you sure it would be okay?” Connor pressed, “Police work feels too close too what I used to be.” “You don’t have to decide today.” Markus replied, “You can stay wherever you are the most comfortable until you decide on something.” “I don’t want to be a burden.” Connor deflected. “Connor, we’re your friends. We wouldn’t be offering if we didn’t want you here.” Hank argued, “That aside, I really don’t think Sumo is going to be all that keen on letting you out of his sight now that you’re back.” Connor looked down at the content Saint Bernard that had made himself at home in Connor’s lap and the space that was left on the couch. He supposed it wouldn’t be fair to any of them if he vanished again so soon after coming back. “And if you wind up deciding you would rather go soul searching again we won’t stop you.” Hank continued, “All I ask is that you keep in touch this time around.” Markus nodded his agreement, “Take a few days to rest. Think about what you want, and when you’re ready you can tell us what you decided on. We’ll wait as long as it takes.” “We just want you to be happy Con.” Hank said, “That’s where it starts.” “I’ll think about it.” He said eventually, “I missed you too, I think. Being back is nice at the very least.”

Hank and Markus smiled. “That’s all we could ask.” Markus said, “I’ve got to get back, but I’m only a ping or a call away.” “Thank you.” Connor said as Markus grabbed his things and stood. Hank ordered Sumo off of the couch and sat down beside Connor. “He worried more than he let on, we both did. We’re glad you’re okay.” Hank let out a sigh, “And I know its beating a dead horse at this point, but we care about you. If you ever feel like that again, please reach out. We can’t help you if we don’t know.” Connor nodded, “I will try and be better.” Hank smiled, “Good. Now let’s watch some shitty tv until you feel better.”

#How a Family is Built #HFB #rk1k #dbh markus #dbh connor #dbh Hank #dbh sumo #dbh fic #dbh

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loving-barnes · 4 years ago

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RED, SUS! - BUCKY BARNES

(A/N): I mean, come on, I had to write one where the team is playing Among us.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary: Tony calls everyone to play the current video game trend - Among us.

Warning: language, a bit fluff at the end

Words: 2800+

FULL MASTERLIST

RED, SUS! - BUCKY BARNES

The gaming world was absorbed by the new game. Everyone was streaming it, playing with friends. It was the perfect game to play during a pandemic. Unfortunately, the illness got into the Avengers compound too. Some of the agents and workers were in isolation due to the virus. Also, even though some people could be considered as Gods, this nuisance got them too. Clint remained isolated in his room, Natasha and Wanda were sick too. Their symptoms were mild, fortunately.

Tony’s orders were strict: social distancing for at least 14 days; checking via FRIDAY if anyone was in the kitchen; no gatherings or work meetings; those not affected had to be prepared for urgent or unexpected missions; masks were necessary for the hallways and common rooms and many more.

Every day, between two and five in the afternoon, they had to remain in their rooms due to obligatory disinfection that was happening in common rooms, hallways and other rooms.

They were in the middle of their two-week personal lockdown when Tony sent everyone a message to log onto their laptops. Y/N was reading a book, slowly falling asleep when it happened. She checked her phone: Conference call, urgent, now.

Y/N knew Tony pretty well. These types of messages never meant discussing work or missions. It was something for his amusement - mostly. Unwillingly and without a choice, she turned on her laptop and joined the conference call.

Natasha: Hey, YN, you joined!

Y/N waved with a hand and then scratched her neck. She looked like a mess - baggy jumper, hair in a bun and her face looked sad and tired. In conclusion, she didn’t care less. The team saw her in her worst already - drunk and almost dead.

Sam: What happened to you, Y/N? You look terrible.

Y/N: Shut it, Wilson. I am well. This is my pandemic outfit.

Bucky chuckled. She knew it was him because she could recognize his voice and other sounds anywhere.

Steve: Tony, what is the meaning behind all of this?

Tony: I’m glad you asked. Now that you are all here, and as you can see, I wanted you to join me in an adventure like never before.

Y/N: Tony, I will not drink with you while being on a conference call.

Tony: Y/N, I am not a madman. I don’t believe in virtual drinking. No, this one does not involve alcohol. All you need is your brain and the ability to lie.

Natasha: Sounds interesting, continue.

Tony: There is this new video game called Among Us which is an online multiplayer game. This game is pretty simple, there are crewmates or impostors. Crewmates have to do tasks to win and Impostors have to sabotage, fake tasks and kill to win. The goal of the game is to identify impostors and vote them out - yes, there will be meetings where we have to vote out someone or skip. The meetings also happen when someone reports a body.

Both Wanda and Y/N made a sound that reminded of howling. They were interested.

Bucky: Come on, you really called us to play some stupid video game.

Wanda: Hey! Shush! I want to play. I am so bored in my room. I need some distraction.

Y/N: Yes, exactly. This sounds so good. Let’s play, everyone, please.

Steve: Honestly, I am bored so I will join. However, I need instructions.

Tony: Not a problem, buddy. I have already installed the game and sent you everything necessary. Just to explain one last detail. We will be on a conference call while playing. But, once the round starts, everyone has to mute their mics. When a meeting is called, you have to unmute and we discuss who to vote out and why. Once you are dead, you have to stay muted until the end of the game. At the beginning of every round, you will see whether you are an imposter or a crewmate. Don’t forget, impostors have to lie.

Y/N: Give us ten minutes to check the materials and to start the game, alright? We have some people that are not too good with this type of technology.

Y/N mocked Steve and Bucky especially. They were friends and she occasionally had to tease them. And when Sam was getting on her nerves, she would treat him the same way, if not even worse.

Clint: Oh, that is easy.

Natasha: Finally, something that will keep me occupied for more than ten seconds.

Bruce: Do I have to play?

Tony: Yes. Ten people are needed for two impostors and for it to be fun. You are playing, Banner.

Y/N: Does everyone understand?

The team simultaneously agreed, each person with a different tone. Y/N turned on the game, as well as the rest of the team did, putting on the code Tony had sent them. She spawned in a lobby, as a little lime figure.

Tony: You can also customise colours and accessories by coming to the laptop and using it.

Y/N quickly did as Tony informed them. She changed the colour to purple and put a golden crown on. It was adorable and it did represent her a little. When she was finished, the rest of the team was in the lobby. They also customised their figures to represent them.

Y/N: Oh my god, this is already so much fun.

Tony: Just to clarify - the crewmate’s vision is lower than the imposters have. The kill cooldown is 30 seconds. Voting time is 120 seconds, etc. You can see it on your left. I am starting the game and don’t forget to mute your mics.

Y/N muted her mic as the game started. She was a crewmate. They all were standing around a table. She started to move to the right. That was when she noticed a map on the screen. When she opened it, a blue map appeared with yellow exclamation marks. When she ran to the first room, she noticed a chair was illuminated with yellow colour.

"Alright, asteroids," she mumbled and did the task.

Other players passed her, or stayed near her, even Bucky’s character did. His figure was white. When she moved, he moved with her. “That’s sus,” she commented and moved down the map to find another task. Bucky was still with her until the lights went off.

“Fuck,” she whisper-shouted when the light around her was just a tiny circle. Several figures were around her and a report button appeared. She quickly clicked it.

A board with all the names showed. Wanda and Sam were dead. She quickly unmuted her mic to talk to the rest of the players. “What the fuck was that?”

Tony: Where is the body?

Y/N: Down in the O2 I believe. The lights went off and suddenly, so many people were around me. Just a report button appeared.

Steve: Who was there except you?

Y/N: I saw Bucky, who was following me - by the way, sus, Barnes. You did your asteroids way too quickly.

Bucky: I didn’t have that task, I just wanted to stay with you.

Tony: Sus!

Natasha: Steve and I were in the admin. That fucking card swipe. I failed it like ten times!

Y/N: Anyway, I think I saw Sam, Bruce and Clint with us. Now, Sam is dead.

Clint: What if it’s you?

Y/N: How dare you, Barton?

The time was slowly coming to its end and it was time to vote. Y/N had no idea who did the kill. She quickly voted skip.

Bruce: We can skip because there are still eight of us.

Tony: Banner, sus.

Everyone skipped except Tony, who voted Clint. No one was ejected and the game could continue. They reappeared in the cafeteria around the table. This time, Y/N went down, because her map showed her she had some task there. Again, Bucky followed her. He stayed at the very beginning of the room while she went in and did the card swipe task. She was lucky to finish it on her second try. Once she was finished, Bucky was nowhere to be seen.

She moved to the wires task. She heard the door to the cafeteria close. When she cleared the task, Bucky was again with her. Maybe he was just protecting her. She had no idea.

The reactor was called. It was time to fix it. Bucky and Y/N moved through storage, under the electrical where they were met with Natasha, Tony and Bruce. They all moved to the reactor where Vision was. Everyone stacked on the upper reactor while Y/N was down alone. The reactor was saved and a body was reported. Natasha and Steve were killed.

Bucky: What the hell happened? Natasha is dead and there are like four of us.

Y/N: Was that a double kill?

Tony: No, it was only Nat. Captain was killed somewhere else, obviously.

Bruce: Most of us were together except Y/N, Bucky and Clint.

Bucky: Y/N and I were in admin, doing our tasks.

Tony: What about you, Vision?

Vision: I am afraid I was alone most of the time. I did see people on cameras where I spent most of the time this round.

Y/N: Clint, what about you?

Clint: I was in… I don’t know the name but I came from the upper side of the map.

Tony: I saw Steve going the way where medbay is.

Y/N: Barton, you killed Steve!

Clint: No, I didn’t.

Tony: Barton, get out of here.

The voting was quickly coming to its end and almost everyone voted. Clint was the last one. He refused. When the time was up, the gang voted for Clint and he was ejected.

Bucky: That’s what you get.

Y/N: That’s sus.

The game continued and Y/N was almost done with her tasks. Bucky was most of the time with her, again. When the lights went out again, she had decided not to go into the electrical. She didn’t want to die. It had been a long time since something happened. No bodies were reported, the taskbar was almost full. Alone, she quickly ran to the cafeteria and pressed the report button. When the board appeared, Only Bruce, Bucky and her were alive.

Y/N: What?!

Bruce: Bucky, how could you?

Bucky: Honestly, Bruce, I saw you kill Tony. Don’t blame me for this.

Y/N: Oh no.

Bruce: Y/N, please don’t believe him, please. I am not the impostor. I was about to report the body when you hit the emergency button.

Bucky: Wow, you are such a good liar.

Y/N: No, don’t do this to me.

Both of the men voted for each other, leaving her to decide the fate of the game. Who should she vote out? Bucky was with her most of the time and she did not see Bruce a lot. It made sense it was Banner. However, Bucky could be very good at this, using tactics like being in a field.

Bruce: Y/N, you have to vote - vote for him. I am a crewmate. I saw him kill Tony in the lower reactor.

Y/N: I mean, to be honest, Bucky was with me almost the whole game. I don’t think he would be able to do this.

Bruce: No, Y/N, don’t do this. He needed you as an alibi.

Bucky: How the hell would I do that? I was by her side the whole time and did my tasks.

Y/N quickly voted for who she believed was the killer. When the results had shown, she voted for Bruce. For her, it made a lot of sense. How else would Bucky be able to do it? The rest of the team unmuted, screaming her name, laughing and making scenes. After a few seconds, the revelation came - they lost. Bucky was, in fact, the second impostor.

Y/N: I mean, fuck both of you. What the actual fuck. You fucking tricked me!

Tony: Kids calls it marinating.

Bucky: I am sorry, doll. You were the perfect person to stick with.

Y/N: Again, fuck you.

Bucky: You wish.

Sam: Wow, can you feel the sexual tension?

Natasha: Sam, why do you make such stupid comments. You are such an intelligent man.

Y/N changed her colour to Red, taking Wanda’s colour. She didn’t mind because she changed it into yellow. The next few games were funny. Two rounds Tony was an impostor. First with Steve than with Bruce. Two hours later, it was Y/N’s turn and she was paired with Bucky.

“Holy shit,” she mumbled and sighed. This was her moment and she wanted to win, fast. She created a strategy. Before she could play by it, her phone rang. Bucky’s name appeared on her screen. “Yes?”

“Well, what a dream team,” he chuckled. “What is the plan?”

“First two kills, at random. After the first report, we will make a graveyard,” she said. “Honestly, that is going to be quick and funny.”

“Sounds good. Where are you now?” he asked.

She looked at the game and then at a map. “I am in admin, pretending to fail card swipe. I will turn off the lights once someone enters and then vent.”

“I see Sam!”

“Kill him,” she encouraged him and turned off the lights. Vision came into the admin alone.

They both took their opportunity and killed both people. Y/N vented into the cafeteria and went to weapons and Bucky quickly went into the comms, pretending to do a task. A few moments later, Sam’s body was reported.

Natasha: Where is the body?

Wanda: Between O2 and shields. I think that is shields.

Steve: Any suspicions?

Y/N: I was passing by the cafeteria from medbay. When the lights were off, no one was around me.

Tony: Bruce and I were in the reactor, doing the Simon says a thing. And I will fucking kill you for the report because now I have to do it again.

Clint: Barnes, where were you?

Bucky: On my way to storage. Did my quick task in coms.

Bruce: So, no one is suspicious?

Natasha: Honestly, we can skip. There are still eight of us.

They all agreed and skipped voting. No one was ejected. When Y/N muted her mic, she went back to the call she had with Bucky. They both were laughing about the situation. “It’s a graveyard time.”

“Where should we do it?” Bucky asked.

“Reactor. After the first two kills, we will call the O2. During it, someone will come, searching for a body.”

They both ran together into the reactor. Wanda was following them. She was about to become their first victim. After they arrived at the reactor, Bruce was also there, working on his Simon says. Their kill cooldown was almost at the end.

“Come on, Buck, now!”

Simultaneously, they killed Bruce and Wanda. Y/N waited almost ten seconds and called the O2 as she mentioned. Bucky quickly closed the doors around them, to slow them down. Their kill cooldown took thirty seconds and they needed time.

The O2 was called off. They noticed the door around them opening and Tony was the first one approaching them. He reached the reactor and Bucky killed him. “One more and we win.”

“We have to hope someone else will come, otherwise they will call the button,” she explained.

They were lucky. Steve and Natasha were on their way. Y/N quickly approached them and killed Steve. With that kill, the game was over and the impostors, Y/N and Bucky, won.

Clint: What the fuck?

Natasha: How did you do that?

Tony: They did a graveyard!

Sam: Fuck you, Barnes, for killing me.

Bucky: It was my pleasure.

Y/N: Oh my god, this was hilarious. Oh, my favourite round of all we played today.

Bucky: Same.

Tony: Want another game?

Y/N: No, I want to take a break and make something to eat. We have been playing for hours. Let’s play tomorrow.

Natasha: You are right. I need to take a nap after this.

Steve: It’s almost seven.

Natasha: My nap will take until tomorrow morning.

Y/N’s phone beeped. She looked at the screen again. There was a text from the other impostor. Can I come over and watch a movie with you? It made her smile.

Only if it involves the good popcorn you make and some kisses - she replied. They had been dating for over a month and things were going great. The team had their suspicions but they had decided not to meddle in their private life. Steve was happy and Tony was overly protective of Y/N but didn’t say a word.

Y/N: I have to go. I am going to watch a movie.

Clint: Oh yeah? Can I join?

Y/N: No, I would like to enjoy it alone.

Nat: Huh, that’s sus.

Y/N: What is sus about it?

Nat: Watching a movie, alone. Why would you want to watch it alone?

Y/N: Because no one is making stupid comments during the movie I want to watch.

Tony: Red, sus.

Y/N: Alright, bye-bye friends.

She ended the call and put her laptop on the night table. Rolling her eyes, she made her bed and went to the bathroom. Bucky would come any minute and she wanted to set the place.

Who would have known this game would bring the whole team together?

#Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky #Bucky x reader #Bucky x female reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky x you #Avengers x reader #Bucky Barnes x female reader #reader x Bucky Barnes #James Barnes #James Barnes x reader

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tenaciouspeacesandwich · 4 years ago

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PSA: Online Safety

Ok so normally I don’t post personal stuff on here, but I saw something today that made me remember this and I knew I had to post it somewhere.

When I was 14, I was really into digital art and online forums where people could post and discuss their paintings/drawings. As someone w/adhd and social anxiety, the internet was somewhere I felt I could be myself and be in control of my social interactions. It wasn’t as intimidating as making friends or talking to people in real life, and I built genuine social skills on there. However, I wasn’t aware of how dangerous these digital communities could be.

I had (still do) a really great relationship with my parents growing up, and they made sure to have the discussion with me about stranger danger and how you should never give away personal info online, all the classics. I never really hid anything I did on the computer from them, and they trusted me completely. They monitored our internet that was considered acceptable by most parenting standards (i.e. server blockers for adult content, etc.). But none of that mattered when I met someone on a discussion board who convinced me to meet up with them irl.

Obviously, looking back on it now years later, it was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. Even at the time, I remember being a little scared when this person asked me to meet them at a public park. They were one of my online ‘art buddies’, ppl who critiqued and gave advice for your submissions, and we’d ‘known’ each other for a while. They complimented my sketches, gave me great tips on how to draw better, and I was really inspired by all the works they posted. Then the conversations meandered naturally from our posts to our lives, casual talk like how we hated homework but liked our teachers, our siblings were annoying, etc.

WARNING: DESCRIPTION OF GROOMING AHEAD

Then, one day they messaged me complementing my self-portrait that I had posted. It was by no means realism, more of a cartoon version of myself, but their flattering words were enough to make my introverted,14-year-old self swoon. I was so shy in school, no one even knew i was there half the time, let alone told me i was beautiful. It made me feel special, valued, less alone. Looking back now, I see it for what it was. But at the time, those words only made me trust this person more. So when they mentioned that they lived in my city and asked if I wanted to meet up at a public park, it wasn’t a huge red flag to me. It was a public place, right? It’s not like they were asking for my social or my address or anything. And they wouldn’t be picking me up in their car, the park was close enough to my school that I could bike the 4 miles there myself. We were just gonna hang out at the picnic tables for a couple of hours, no big deal.

Even though I’d seen this park before, I’d never actually been to it. My parents never took us there, and I always just assumed it was because there were other, closer parks to our house that were just as nice. It didn’t seem sketchy to me as I rode up closer, other than the fact that some of the playground equipment was rusty and the swing set had overgrown weeds on it.

I remember this day so clearly even though it’s been 10 years now: I was pedaling up this mini-hill that went thru a neighborhood, and the park was at the bottom of the hill on the other side. I remember stopping at the top of the hill to catch my breath for a second on the sidewalk, and I looked down at the park. From where I was standing, I could see the picnic tables and the parking lot. My friend had been messaging me on my phone, and had been updating me ever since I left school on my bike. They said they were already there and had been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes, and that when I arrived I’d be able to find them really easily because they had a red convertible in the parking lot, and they had managed to get us a table that we didn’t have to share. I texted them when I left, asking if there were a lot of people at the park that day. Their reply was really distinct, because instead of ‘yeah, kinda’ or ‘not really’, they texted back; ‘Super crowded, some kind of birthday party at the gazebo- All kinds of moms lol’ . Reading that gave me assurance that I didn’t know I needed, and that’s why I remember the dread and fear I felt when I looked down at the park.

There was no one there.

No party, no kids, nothing- the gazebo was empty, the playground deserted, everything was just quiet.

Except for this one man sitting at a picnic table, who had to be at least my father’s age. There was a gray sedan parked in the lot (i’m assuming his, but I don’t know), and the man was looking down at his phone as he sat at the table.

I texted my ‘friend’ again, still hidden by the garage wall of someone’s house where my bike was parked at the top of the hill. My ‘friend’ was supposed to be a guy my age who was wearing a pink floyd t shirt and black jeans. I asked him, ‘is there food at the party?’

I got an instant reply; ‘Yeah, a grillout- smells amazing but i don’t think they’ll let us have anything lol’.

I turned around and got on my bike, looking over my shoulder every 5 minutes, terrified that this guy might have seen and followed me. Thankfully, there was never anyone behind me, and I didn’t stop until I got home. I went to my room and deleted my entire account from that website, blocking my ‘friend’ first and deleting all of our conversation history in a panic before making sure every trace of me was gone forever. I sat there in my room for a while just staring at the wall.

I don’t know for sure if the man that I saw had anything to do with the person I was messaging- I don’t know him or why he was at the park. All of these things are connections I drew from what I knew via the website and our conversation, and what I could see with my own eyes. But more powerful than any of that was the immense, strong gut feeling I had wash over me when I was about to meet that person. Something just felt very, very wrong. I was still happy and excited to meet them, but that happiness was soured by that innate reaction of dread and foreboding that just screamed at me to go away.

I never told my parents about this, and still haven’t to this day. I know they would blame themselves for me being lured by this person (if that was in fact what happened), and that is the last thing I want- they did everything right.

That’s my entire point in posting this: my parents did everything by the book, took the experts advice, had an open and trusting relationship with me, and monitored our internet access. But I still made this happen, I still got my way, and I’m convinced that it’s by sheer luck that I’m still here today. I got up the courage to ask them one day, about 3 years after all this, when we were driving by that park why they never took us there as kids. My parents told me that park was notorious for drug use and crime, and that there were no working security cameras anywhere nearby.

There have been so many people in my situation who unfortunately never came home. Please please please be careful who you talk to on the internet, and be even more careful about the excuses you tell yourself to justify why it’s ok for you to be communicating with strangers. I convinced myself that this was just a fun meet up with a friend, that it was safe because it was on a public property, and that it was ok for me to go by myself. I will remember this experience for the rest of my life.

#public safety #online safety #grooming #child exploitation #luring #online predators #be safe #safety #parenting #online smarts

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pickalilywrites · 4 years ago

Text

it’s my first fic since i started my job ❤ i hope you enjoy ^^

..........

You and Me at the End of the World

Falbi. SF8 AU.

11194 words.

Read on Ao3!

»»————- April 3, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes, a sigh escaping his lips. He feels an incredible weariness in his bones as if he had run a marathon yesterday even though he hasn’t really had PE in a month. He hasn’t had PE since his teacher had run off just like everyone else did when they heard that an asteroid was hurtling towards the earth and set to destroy life as everyone knew it. Everyone Falco knew just up and left their jobs and homes to pursue their dreams: his classmates dropped out of school to become idols or viral TikTokers, the mailman stopped delivering mail to Falco’s house and decided to fly to every place in the world he had always wanted to visit, and even the principal of Falco’s school had resigned but not before advising all of the students to drop out of school because it was useless now that they were all about to die.

Many people had taken the principal’s advice, but not Falco. He still goes to school on the weekdays and spends the weekend completing homework assignments that will never be graded. A few students had visited the school even after the principal had closed the school down, but they had stopped coming after they saw how many of their peers had dropped out and saw how even the teachers didn’t bother coming back.

It doesn’t bother Falco that he goes to school every morning and studies in an empty classroom all day or that he has to fish out study plans from the notebooks his teachers left behind just to give himself something to do. His parents have asked him why he bothers going to school when all of his classmates have pretty much given up, but Falco really doesn’t have an answer. If he had to say anything, it’s probably that he doesn’t have anything in particular that he wants to do.

Falco acknowledges that he’s never been incredibly ambitious like some of his classmates have been. His talents are unspectacular. He knows that he’s neither athletic nor smart. He’s always been average. He never studied too hard because he knew he’d never get the highest score in the class and he never exerted himself too much in PE because there was always someone stronger or faster than him. It isn’t something that ever bothered him, and he’s grown to accept that part of himself.

He doesn’t have any special interests either. Sure, Falco enjoys playing video games and playing sports like any kid his age, but he can’t see himself wasting the rest of his days on them. Some of his classmates even asked him to join them. Falco has had multiple offers: join a band as a bassist even though he’s never touched a bass guitar in his life, become a part of a dance crew despite his coordination being awful at best, start a video channel pulling off different stunts and tricks to gain a little bit of spotlight before they all died, among others. He declined all of them in the end, preferring to be alone, and even now Falco doesn’t regret his decision. He’s content being a normal kid living out the rest of his tedious life as monotonously as he always did.

His parents live quite normally too except for the fact that they quit their jobs like everybody else did when news of the asteroid came out. Rather than return to their jobs every morning, his parents go out on long walks together, often visiting places from their younger days. They usually leave long before Falco wakes, but his mother is always sure to leave out a freshly made breakfast for Falco and his older brother Colt.

Colt hasn’t made any drastic changes to his lifestyle, not like some other people his age. He, too, dropped out of school like many of his peers and Falco’s classmates, but he usually spends his time visiting internet cafés or playing baseball with his friends. The elder brother once curiously asked Falco why he bothered going to school and the younger just simply shrugged. Colt never bothered to ask again, and Falco was fine with that.

Falco rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth as he normally does. His hair looks like a mess. Since news of the upcoming apocalypse, people either care excessively about their appearance or they don’t care about it at all. Considering his circumstances, Falco should probably fall in the latter category, but he fixes his bed head all the same, patting down the cowlicks and running a comb through his hair to get rid of all the tangles.

After washing his face and getting dressed in his school uniform, Falco wanders into the kitchen where his breakfast is waiting for him. On the stove sits a pan with fluffy scrambled eggs mixed with little bits of crispy, dark spinach leaves, and sweet gruyère. Falco twists the knob on the stove with a sharp click before popping bread into the toaster. As he waits for the eggs to warm up, he fixes himself a glass of orange juice.

Falco ends up splitting the eggs in half, leaving a portion for Colt whenever he decides to roll out of bed. He sits at the kitchen island by himself, munching on some generously buttered toast in between bites of egg. It’s a much fancier breakfast than his mother used to make. Scrambled eggs were usually plain except for a dash of salt and pepper, but his mother has become more experimental with her cooking now that the end of the world is evident. It’s a good change, Falco thinks as the blend of savory bacon and salted eggs melt onto his tongue. It probably would have been nice if his mother had decided to be more adventurous with her cooking beforehand, but it’s not as if having regrets about this can change the past so Falco just eats the rest of his breakfast before dumping his plate in the sink and calling out to his brother that he’ll be heading to school. He doesn’t even wait for a response from Colt before heading out the door.

Ever since news of the asteroid, Falco has begun seeing very interesting people on his way to school. Some of them are familiar to him. Others he’s never seen before in his life. They’re not all strange, of course. Sometimes there are just kids running up and down the road kicking a soccer ball or couples holding hands as they take a morning stroll. But there are more than a few eccentrics on Falco’s way to school.

Lately, there have been people claiming to be superheroes. They have superpowers, they insist. Some will rush up to strangers on the street and show off their powers, but Falco has never seen any proof of their alleged superhuman talents.

Some people post videos online demonstrating their special gifts. Falco has seen a handful of them, mostly because his friend Zofia keeps sending them to him every few days when she finds them particularly funny. He finds them mildly intriguing, although he’s fairly certain that most (if not all) of the videos are either staged or edited to look real. He’s never been fully convinced by any of them.

On this particular walk to school, Falco passes by a person who claims to be able to create seismic shifts and another person who she can talk to animals. Neither person is particularly believable. Falco only gives a passing glance when the first person begins to demonstrate their powers by spinning in a circle and letting out a low groan that begins to grow into a loud shriek. The earth, Falco notices, does not shake. He’s even less interested when the animal girl starts shouting post-apocalyptic prophecies about how giant bugs will inherit the earth once the dust has settled on the earth after the asteroid impact.

Falco reaches the school gate and pulls it open himself because there isn’t a teacher there to welcome him like there used to be. He leaves it open to save trouble for anyone who ends up coming after him, although he highly doubts anyone will be joining him. He walks across the courtyard where some of his former schoolmates play soccer, looking at them briefly but not bothering to bid them good morning. When he gets to the building, he pulls open the door and steps inside. The sound of his shoes against the speckled tile echo across the empty hallways as he makes his way to his classroom.

As usual, it’s empty. Falco could probably sit anywhere he wants, but he ends up at his old desk, the second seat in the third row from the right. He sits down with a thud and lets his backpack fall off his shoulder. He pulls out his notebook and looks at today’s lesson that he copied from his homeroom teacher’s planner earlier last month: geometry, English, social studies, art, and science.

Falco dutifully completes his assignments for the day. He even double-checks his answers once he’s done. Maybe he’ll look over the answer key after school if he feels like it. He spends his break staring at the window at the kids playing ball in the field or playing pranks on each other in the quad. He doesn’t make any attempt to join them.

At 2:15, Falco packs his things. He puts away his pens and pencils neatly in his case, zips up his backpack, and slings his bag over his shoulder. As he walks to the door of the classroom, he thinks he imagines footsteps running down the hall. It makes him wonder if the impending apocalypse is making him go mad because he can’t imagine why anyone would be here when the world is going to end in a week. When he pulls open the door, he sees his friend Zofia about to reach for the door.

“Oh, good,” Zofia pants. She bends over, hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath. Ashy blonde locks are falling out of her ponytail. “I was afraid I missed you. You weren’t replying to any of my texts.”

“We’re not allowed to use our phones in school,” Falco says as he looks down at her.

Zofia looks up, an expression of mild disbelief on her face. “Geez, I can’t believe you’re still doing this.” She straightens up and sighs. “Our teachers probably appreciated what a goody-two-shoes you were back when they actually cared about their jobs, but I assure you that they don’t care at all now that the world is about to end.”

Falco rolls his eyes and walks past Zofia. He can hear her following him from the extra footsteps that accompany his. “What do you need? I thought you were busy trying to pet ‘every dog in the world’ or whatever before the asteroid strikes.”

Zofia’s arm links with Falco’s and she flashes a cheesy smile at him. “I realized it was impossible so I settled for petting ‘as many dogs as possible.’ I’m pretty satisfied with my work, so I’ve decided on pursuing something else.” She doesn’t immediately follow up with what it is she’s working on, and Falco knows she’s absolutely itching for him to ask.

“... What is it?” Falco asks.

“I’m glad you asked!” Zofia says, tugging him closer to her. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and flips through it for a bit before finding what she wants to show Falco. On her screen is a long post on one of the message boards their classmates post on. “There’s this girl. She’s totally crazy.”

A glance at the phone screen confirms Zofia’s words. It’s a post that looks like it’s been circulating through message boards of different middle schools in their area. The original poster is someone named Gabi Braun, aged 14, and she attends Liberio Middle School across the city. Her post is a call for all people with superpowers to contact her so that they can save the world together.

Falco looks at Zofia and wrinkles his nose. “And you’re showing me this because …?”

“Because she’s absolutely crazy, but she’s interesting,” Zofia replies as she pockets her phone. She smiles at Falco. “Let’s go visit her.”

“What? No!” Falco says. He yanks his arm away from Zofia. “You said she was nuts! Why would we look for her?”

“Because the world is ending in a few days, so we might as well do something stupid,” Zofia replies. She links her arm around Falco’s again and pouts, batting her eyelashes up at him. “Come on, aren’t you the least bit curious? There’s a girl our age who thinks she can save the world if she gathers enough nutjobs who think they have superpowers.”

Falco isn’t curious at all. “I have homework,” he says to Zofia, which he knows is the wrong answer. Although Zofia hasn’t tried to convince Falco to stop going to school like the rest of their peers, she has been pretty vocal about how stupid she thinks Falco is for living the end of his life so mundanely.

“You also have a friend,” Zofia says. She begins to tug at him after every other word, trying to get him to follow her. “A friend you care about deeply and don’t want to see hurt if she ends up walking into some creep’s trap.”

“Then why are you going at all if you know it might be dangerous?” Falco mutters, but he knows Zofia’s right. His normal school life consists of him going straight home after classes and doing his homework, but it occasionally includes him reluctantly following Zofia sometimes to make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. He’s not too surprised when he ends up walking with Zofia to the meeting place the poster mentioned in their message.

Normally, Falco and Zofia would have taken the bus into the city, but it’s difficult to flag down a bus. The schedules are erratic at best and oftentimes buses don’t show up on schedule at all. It is the end of the world, after all.

It’s a curious thing, seeing the city at the end of the world. It’s a little bit like how the movies portray it, but not at all like the movies at the same time. Cars fill the street while drivers honk their horns and shout at each other to hurry up because they don’t want to spend their last days on earth stuck in traffic. The doors and windows of so many shops and buildings are smashed in and their contents gone. If people aren’t running around and screaming at each other on the street, they’re walking around like it’s a normal day save for the fact that they’re all looking for the next thing they want to do before they die.

“I’d suggest going to the mall downtown or something later, but it’s probably ransacked like everywhere else,” Zofia says with a wistful sigh.

“We could have just gone to the arcade in our town,” Falco mutters. The internet café and the arcade in their town is a mess because none of the gamers there bother to clean up their trash anymore, but at least there are still computers there and nobody has hauled off the arcade machines.

The two wander about the city and linger near the subway station entrance the message board poster had mentioned. There are people going up and down the stairs to the subways and some kids skating around and doing tricks on their skateboards. Adults pass by hurriedly with their phone stuck to one ear, rushing to make plans with someone on the other end because they have limited time left. It feels like Zofia and Falco are just standing frozen in time while the world rushes around them.

“Who do you think it is?” Zofia whispers in Falco’s ear.

Falco scans the scene, his eyes quickly flitting over anyone that didn’t look like a middle schooler. He doesn’t think it would be any of the skateboarders, so he glances over them too. Whoever this Gabi Braun is, she doesn’t have any interest in anything aside from saving the world with her impossible idea. She must be looking for people just like he and Zofia are looking for her.

Finally, his eyes land on a girl their age with a stern expression on her face. Her dark eyebrows are knitted together and she turns her head from side to side every few seconds as she scans the subway station, her brown hair whipping from side to side. She leans against the railing near the subway entrance, her arms folded across her chest. Somehow, she looks familiar, but Falco doesn’t know why.

“Her,” Falco says. He raises his hand and points to her only to realize it’s rude and quickly lets his hand fall to his side. He’s about to jerk his head over in the girl’s direction, but Zofia has already seen who he was pointing to and starts dragging him over.

“Excuse me,” Zofia says, catching the girl’s attention. The girl’s gaze is intense, her brown eyes scrutinizing the two of them, but Zofia doesn’t shrink away from the girl like Falco does. Instead, Zofia holds out a hand cordially and gives the girl a friendly smile. “You’re Gabi Braun, right? I’m Zofia, and this is my friend Falco. We saw your message reposted on our school forum and wanted to help you.”

The girl looks at them suspiciously but takes Zofia’s hand, shaking it reluctantly. “You really want to help?” Her eyes flit towards Falco, who looks down immediately. “Why do you want to help me?”

“Hmm,” Zofia hums and tilts her head to the side. “Because the end of the world isn’t something I’m particularly looking forward to.” She looks over at Falco and, with a grin, elbows him playfully in the ribs. “And this guy doesn’t have anything better to do, so I had him come along.”

“What were you doing before?” Gabi asks curiously.

Falco purses his lips. It’s not that he’s ashamed about how he’s spending his last days. Living plainly is a far better choice than some people have made. Apparently, some people decided that murder was something they needed to check off their bucket list. If you ask Falco, he thinks being a normal student is far better than being a last-minute murderer. Still, it’s not something he wants to say out loud to a stranger.

He kicks at the sidewalk and mumbles, “Just … homework and stuff.”

To his surprise, Gabi doesn’t ridicule him or ask why. She simply nods as if this is a perfectly normal way for someone to spend their last days. She doesn’t ask them any more questions, somehow satisfied with Falco’s answer. She’s already digging around in her back for something and pulls a laptop out of her bag.

“I’m still waiting for people to show up, but I wouldn’t be surprised if nobody ends up showing,” Gabi says, gesturing for the two of them to sit beside her. Her tone doesn’t sound disappointed at all. In fact, she sounds rather like she expected this to happen.

Zofia sits on one side of Gabi, peering curiously over the brunette’s shoulder as she types away. Falco wants to sit beside Zofia. It would be more comfortable than sitting next to a stranger, but he would have difficulty seeing the screen. Reluctantly, he takes a seat next to Gabi.

“I’ve been looking at videos,” Gabi tells them. “People have been submitting them after seeing my message on the school forums.”

“Is there anyone particularly interesting to you?” Zofia asks.

“Not really,” Gabi says. She opens up a folder on her screen and a video file pops up. She presses Play. “Technology lets you edit anything into videos now. Some of these powers look super fake, but I still have to take a chance in case they do have powers and are interested in saving the world, right?”

The three watch the video play out. There’s a man on the screen claiming to have pyrokinesis. He’s wide-eyed and staring at the camera, holding out his hands with his palms to the ceiling. His explanation of his powers is similar to everyone else who has posted these kinds of videos on social media: he was just born with them and never bothered to reveal them until now for fear of being ostracized.

The flame doesn’t ignite right away. It’s a flicker — a spark, really — that grows into the smallest flame. The fire is hardly the size of the man’s fingertip, but he looks delighted just the same. The three children watching are not as thrilled.

“You really think this guy can save the world?” Zofia asks, raising her eyebrow.

“I don’t think this guy can save anyone,” Gabi replies. She’s so brutally honest that it would be funny if they weren’t discussing the fate of the world. “But I’m taking whatever help I can get at this point.”

They spend the rest of that afternoon looking through applications. Most of them are just internet trolls and Gabi has to roll her eyes more than once before closing out the applicant’s video. There are a few promising candidates Gabi moves to a separate folder but only when Falco and Zofia also agree that the person might be worth looking into. They go through written applications too, often filtering out any CVs that aren’t descriptive enough and sometimes those that are too descriptive and more fitted to some sci-fi character description than an actual person. Gabi calls a few numbers from the short list of people that the three all agreed on, but nobody ever picks up. Nobody shows up either. Still, Gabi doesn’t seem to be discouraged.

“Why are you doing this?” Falco asks at one point while they’re watching a video of a man who claims he can read people’s thoughts.

“Hm?” Gabi says, looking away from the video.

“Just … this whole thing,” Falco says and vaguely waves at the screen. “You know it too. This might not work, so why even bother trying to save the world?”

Gabi frowns and her eyebrows knit together like she doesn’t quite understand Falco’s question. “Well, what else would I be doing?”

Falco doesn’t respond because, well, he doesn’t have an answer. It’s not like he knows what to do with the rest of his life either. If Zofia hadn’t convinced him to come here, he’d just be at home with his head stuck in a textbook. Even if it’s useless, whatever Gabi is doing is far more interesting.

»»————- April 4, 2026 ————-««

Falco’s parents drop him off at the edge of the city. His mother had wanted to drop him off closer to his destination point, but Falco assured her that it wasn’t necessary. Besides, there were a lot of weirdos in the city, he reasoned, especially now that the apocalypse was coming. She reluctantly allowed him to be dropped off at the edge of the city, but not before giving him a can of pepper spray and a baseball bat in case he ran into anybody cruel enough to mug a middle schooler.

He doesn’t have any trouble meeting Gabi at the library they agreed to meet at. Zofia isn’t there with him after deciding this morning that saving the world wasn’t what she wanted to spend her last moments doing. She did, however, request that Falco send Gabi her best wishes, which Falco promised to pass along.

The two of them sit on the tenth floor of the library at a table by the window. The library isn’t exactly empty, but it’s not exactly filled up either. There are a few other visitors in the library with them. Some are seated at tables or couches, but others choose to sit between bookshelves, folding up their legs so that people can walk around if they need to get through. Hardly anyone pays attention to Falco and Gabi. They’re too busy flipping furiously through their books, eyes scanning the pages in seconds, as they try to finish their reading list before the world ends.

While Gabi watches more videos of superpowered applicants while Falco gathers books on powers that interest them: pyrokinesis, psychokinesis, time travel, to name a few. As he gathers research articles, he also stumbles across the section of the library dedicated to outer space and celestial bodies and decides to grab a few books on asteroids and meteors as well. There’s a slim chance that they might help, but Falco might as well try.

Gabi doesn’t talk much to Falco, too engrossed in her research to hold a conversation with him. He doesn’t talk much to her either. He does, on occasion, glance up at her to observe her progress, but she always seems to be staring at the screen with the same dissatisfied frown on her face. Every once in a while Gabi will lean over and ask Falco about whether or not a certain candidate looks promising, but his answer is almost always no and she goes back to staring at her screen.

At noon, the two take their lunch break. Gabi hadn’t brought anything. She tells Falco she was planning on just grabbing something from the snack machine near the elevators. The library remains one of the few places that was relatively untouched by thieves and vandals because not many people think “let’s rob the library” when they hear that the world is ending. Because Falco’s mother has a tendency to overpack his lunches, Falco decides to split his meal with Gabi. He figures that a sandwich is far better than whatever half-filled bag of chips Gabi would end up grabbing from the vending machine.

Falco munches on his katsu sandwich. It’s a favorite of his: two slices of pillowy milk bread with a thick cut of juicy pork cutlet covered in crispy bread crumbs wedged in between. A little butter and mustard give the sandwich a little bitterness that makes the tip of his tongue tingle and savory tonkatsu sauce drizzled over the thinly sliced cabbage underneath the katsu complete the simple but scrumptious sandwich.

He looks over to see if Gabi is enjoying her food as much as he is, but she’s scarfing it down so quickly that he isn’t sure she’s even taking the time to taste it. In between bites, she’s scrolling through her laptop with greasy fingers, frowning. A glance at the notebook beside her tells Falco that Gabi hasn’t found many promising candidates.

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Falco asks. He’s halfway done with his lunch but Gabi is a bite away from finishing hers.

Gabi shrugs. She doesn’t look up as she answers. “I don’t know. It’s worth a shot, right?” She scrolls a bit more before she pauses, her fingers hovering above the touchpad. Her eyes flicker over to Falco so suddenly that he nearly drops his sandwich. Gabi narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, her attention entirely on the boy. Her gaze is intense and she scoots to the edge of her seat, leaning in towards Falco. “You’re awfully skeptical about this plan for someone who’s trying to save the world.”

Falco gulps, trying not to shy away from her intense gaze. If he were a turtle, he’d be curled back in his shell right now. “I just want to make sure we’re not wasting our time,” he mumbles.

“Falco, do you not believe that people can have superpowers?” Gabi asks.

Falco is about to shake his head and say that that’s not the case but before he can Gabi settles back into her seat, arms folded across her chest, and announces, “I have a superpower.” She says it quite loudly, loudly enough for her voice to be heard across the entire floor, but people are too preoccupied with their reading to pay much attention to her although a few readers do shoot her a dirty look for being so loud.

Falco is not quite sure what he expected Gabi to say, but it wasn’t that. He sits there awkwardly, sandwich still half-finished in his hands. After a moment, he asks, “Er, what is it?”

Gabi pops the last bit of her sandwich in her mouth and wipes her fingers on her jeans. After she chews and swallows, she leans towards Falco once more and gives him an impish grin. “I can read people’s minds. Telepathy,” she tells him. She doesn’t wait for him to ask for a demonstration.

Gabi puts one hand on Falco’s chest and stares deeply into his eyes. Falco’s heart is beating wildly in his chest. If by some miracle Gabi doesn’t hear it, Falco’s certain that she’ll be able to feel it underneath her fingertips. She doesn’t say anything about it, though, just continues to stare at him with those intense brown eyes of hers as she reads every single thought racing through his mind right now, like how he’s never been quite this close to anyone, how he’s never had his heart beat quite this fast, or how he thinks he might just die right here right now before the asteroid even hits.

Suddenly, Gabi’s face breaks into a smile and she pulls her hand away, Falco’s chest feeling achingly empty now. Gabi is laughing now, but Falco doesn’t have any idea why.

“God, I didn’t think you’d believe me,” she laughs. She’s laughing so hard that it’s difficult to make out what she’s saying. “I didn’t think you’d believe me, but you really did. You’re really gullible, aren’t you?”

Falco blinks, confused for a minute as he tries to process what just happened. “You … can’t read minds?” he says a beat too late.

“No, god, but you thought I did,” Gabi laughs.

“Then what’s your power?”

Gabi’s still giggling as she answers. “Something else. It’s not important. I’ll tell you if it ends up being useful.”

She’s laughing. She’s still laughing. It’s a laugh that comes from her stomach and has her clutching her sides. People are glaring because it’s disrupting the peace, and Falco feels like he should tell her to stop but he finds that he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t even mind that she’s laughing at him. He just likes the sound of it.

»»————- April 5, 2026 ————-««

They sit with a pack of chocolate-covered biscuits shaped like little bamboo shoots between them. While Falco eats them one at a time, usually popping one in his mouth after he’s read a few pages of whatever book he’s reading, Gabi shovels them into her mouth by the handful without even looking. They’ve gone through their fifth pack of the little chocolate biscuits and it’s not even noon yet.

“Do you think you can do it?” Falco asks at some point.

“Save the world?” Gabi asks. She sucks her thumb, trying to get the chocolate off. Falco nods and Gabi says, “Well, who else if not me?”

“Literally anyone else,” Falco replies because, well, they’re only kids.

“Right, and just die young, dumb, and stupid like every other kid our age,” Gabi says with a roll of her eyes. “No thanks. I’d rather have died trying to do something. Besides, it’s not as if the adults are having that much luck either.”

Gabi slides her laptop over so that Falco can see the screen. On it, a video plays of a rocket shooting into space. The caption on the bottom reads “NASA Space Missile Failure.” Falco vaguely recalls hearing about the missile launch earlier this morning. The scientists were excited about it, hoping that the missile would collide with the oncoming asteroid and shatter it into smaller pieces that would burn up in the atmosphere, but it seems like they had been excited for nothing. Apparently, they had miscalculated the trajectory of the missile and it would miss the asteroid completely.

“That sucks,” Falco says finally. He’s not exactly sure how he feels about the news. He should probably feel disappointed, but he feels the same way he did a month ago when he heard the world was ending: perfectly indifferent.

Gabi shrugs. “Armin said it wouldn’t work. He said their calculations were off,” she says. She glances at Falco and adds, “Armin’s a genius. He’s my mentor’s husband.”

“A genius? Is that his superpower?” Falco asks. If Gabi knows someone who’s a literal genius, he doesn’t see why they’re doing all this work. Shouldn’t this genius, whoever he is, have all the answers?

Gabi thinks for a minute, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not sure. My mentor just says Armin’s a genius, but he’s way too humble to admit it,” Gabi finally answers. She frowns, leaning forward with her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand. “He can’t help us though. He’s busy tending to his fish.”

Falco isn’t certain he’s heard her right. “His fish?” he repeats.

“Yeah. He’s a marine biologist. He likes to have some fish at home,” Gabi explains like it’s the most normal thing in the world to take care of your fish when the world is about to end. “He says it calms him down to see them swim around.”

Falco is still trying to wrap his head around all of this — Gabi and her willingness to save the world, the genius she just spoke of who just wants to take care of his fish, and the asteroid hurtling towards the earth. He doesn’t understand any of it. “So it’s okay for you, a kid, to try and save the world while a literal genius is taking care of fish at his house instead of trying to prevent the apocalypse?”

Gabi blinks. “Yes,” she replies as if there could be no other answer. “Because it’s what I want to do. And it’s what he wants to do. Why should we be doing anything different?”

“But shouldn’t you be doing, I don’t know, kid things?” Falco asks. He’s starting to feel a little frustrated talking to her. This isn’t what she should be doing at all. This isn’t what they should be doing. They should be enjoying the last few days they have together. They should be playing games at the arcade, or wandering around the empty mall, or eating snacks at the park, not … whatever this is.

“Maybe. Probably. But I don’t want to,” Gabi says. She turns the laptop back and starts typing away. “I don’t like the idea of doing something just because the world is ending. I’ve always done what I wanted, so I don’t have any regrets. This is the only thing I want to do now.”

It’s more than Falco can say. Like Gabi, he doesn’t have anything he wants to do, but then he’s never really ever wanted to do anything. All his life he’s been floating from place to place and participating in whatever was expected of kids his age: attending school, joining a sports team, learning an instrument. He didn’t care about any of it. He doesn’t have any regrets about it, but he does feel a sudden wave of admiration for Gabi. She’s saving the world now because she feels like it, but she could just as easily leave this task for another if something else strikes her fancy. Falco wants to know what it feels like to pursue something so impulsively.

He wants to want things. He wants to be with Gabi. He wants to help her save the world.

“Is there something you want to do before the world ends?” Gabi asks. She’s just asking to be polite. Her eyes are already glued to the screen of her laptop, her face turned away from him. “You don’t seem to be as into the whole ‘save the world’ thing as I am.”

Falco shrugs even though she’s not watching. “I don’t mind it.” Falco could leave it at that. He doesn’t have to say anything else, but he does. “There isn’t really else I want to do anyway,” he tells her, but it’s a lie.

He wants to hold her hand.

»»————- April 6, 2026 ————-««

Falco has never looked forward to anything as much as the researching sessions he has with Gabi. He’s never really looked forward to anything before, actually, and he’s not sure why being surrounded by books and looking at (mostly) fake superhero videos with Gabi appeals to him so much.

He likes a lot of things about the way Gabi works. She’s quiet and focused, eyebrows knitted as she decides whether or not to call another applicant that probably won’t pick up. She never gets discouraged even though things don’t look promising. They’ve probably called dozens of people and only a third have actually responded. Most of them turned out to be trolls, which isn’t surprising considering they were taking submissions from strangers on the internet, but Gabi still carries on. Maybe it’s Gabi’s passion and stubbornness that has drawn Falco to her, but it feels like it’s more than that too.

He feels, in a way, like Gabi completes him. Before he met her, he was wandering aimlessly. Now he doesn’t know what he’d do without her. Staying at home and studying seems unbearable when the option of being with Gabi exists.

Falco isn’t sure how Gabi feels about him. He doesn’t even know if she has any feelings towards him — if she likes him, hates him, or just feels completely indifferent. At any rate, she doesn’t seem to mind spending her last few days on earth with him, and that makes him feel a little better about the world ending. Occasionally, he thinks about how Gabi probably wouldn’t notice if he stopped coming to help her. Well, she might notice, but Falco doesn’t think Gabi would change her routine. She’d just continue saving the world with or without his help.

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” Falco asks at one point. Gabi looks at him with a raised eyebrow and he elaborates “We hardly know each other and we’re just here … saving the world together.”

Gabi frowns, a thoughtful look on her face. “I don’t think it’s weird,” she says to Falco, and he feels his heart flutter in his chest. “A lot of weird stuff has happened because it’s the end of the world and we just happened to meet each other. If a total weirdo had showed up instead of you, then maybe I would be saving the world with them and we never would have met.” She doesn’t seem to mind the thought of working with a total weirdo in place of Falco.

Falco slumps in his seat, deflated, but Gabi doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m glad it was you though,” Gabi continues.

Falco lifts his head. “Really?” He scoots closer in his seat, curious. “Why?”

Gabi twirls her pen between her fingers, looking upward as she thinks. After a moment, she shrugs. “I don’t know,” she answers. “It just feels better knowing I’m working with someone. It’s better than working alone, I guess. I might feel the same way even if it were someone else, but I also might not. Still, I’m glad it’s you.”

It doesn’t really mean anything. Like she said, it could have been some other kid who ended up answering Gabi’s post and helping her with her impossible quest to save the world. It could have been some other person sitting with her and looking up useless articles on asteroids and meteorites. It could have been someone else having this conversation with her. But, Falco reminds himself, it wasn’t. It’s him sitting beside her, eating snacks and discussing the end of the world. It probably isn’t fate that they met, but it kind of feels like it is.

»»————- April 7, 2026 ————-««

Tired of the same snacks from his pantry, Falco decides to try the café on the first-floor of the library for some new things to eat. He had asked Gabi what she wanted and she told him to just get her anything.

The first floor café is relatively well-stocked for the end of the world, but maybe it’s because bookworms prefer literature to satiate their appetites rather than food.

The display case, usually filled with dessert sandwiches with slices of strawberries and kiwi and slathered with whipped cream, is cleaned out, but the shelves behind the cash register are still stocked with different kinds of chips and candies. Falco scans the shelves, looking for his favorites: baked potato chips covered in rich butter, little rice crackers flavored with soy sauce and red pepper flakes, and chocolate cookies in the shape of tiny hamburgers.

Falco stares, for the longest time, at the other snacks and wonders what Gabi would like, if she has a preference for anything. Maybe he should have paid more attention when they were eating together to see if she ever seemed to gravitate to certain foods he brought or commented on any of the snacks they ate together, but he can’t recall anything. He feels stupid for not noticing, but he also doesn’t want to keep Gabi waiting and ends up grabbing whatever grabs his attention.

He arrives at their designated research table, huffing from the flights of stairs he had to climb. Falco deposits the snacks rather ungracefully in front of Gabi, letting them fall out of his hands and onto the table. Gabi looks up from the noise, her eyebrows raised, but she smiles when she sees that it’s him and Falco’s heart flutters almost painfully in his chest.

“These are yours,” Falco says, shoving Gabi’s share of the snacks towards her.

“Thanks.” Gabi picks up a snack with a gray cartoon cat on the wrapper. It’s a puffed corn stick. Pizza-flavored, the wrapper says. She opens it with a grin. “How did you know these were my favorite?” she asks.

“I … I don’t know,” Falco says. “Must have been a lucky guess.”

But it doesn’t feel like it.

It feels like he knew, from the beginning, what she had wanted. It’s like he had let his instincts take over when he had randomly chosen snacks for Gabi and somehow selected her favorite ones. It was as easy as picking food for someone he had known for his whole life, which is impossible because he hadn’t even known Gabi a week ago. Maybe, then, he had known Gabi in a past life and that’s how he happened to pick her favorites. Or maybe they really are fated to be together and knowing things like her favorite food are just second nature to him. The latter two explanations are almost impossible and yet so much more likely than the first explanation. He doesn’t know how to explain it though, not without seeming crazy, so he doesn’t say anything.

»»————- April 8, 2026 ————-««

Tomorrow is the end of the world and they are no closer to saving everyone from the asteroid hurtling towards the earth than they were yesterday. In fact, they are no closer to saving the world than they were a week ago when this effort began or even a month ago when they had first found out the world was going to be destroyed. Their attempt to prevent the world’s end was futile and their effort today will probably be equally useless. Still, here they are on the tenth floor of the library doing the same thing they did yesterday.

The sun is about to set and it’s almost time for them to head home. Falco wonders if they’ll be here tomorrow spending their last moments at the library when the world ends or if Gabi will call it quits and suggest they spend their last day without each other. He’s too afraid to ask.

They pack up silently, Gabi slipping her notebooks and laptop into her bag as Falco arranges the books into neat stacks on the slim chance that they’ll return tomorrow. Falco notices that Gabi packs the same way she always does — quickly, dumping everything into her backpack as if she doesn’t care if they get damaged — and it stings a little bit that she doesn’t pack a little slower this time like he does just so that he can spend a few seconds more with her. Maybe he shouldn’t be so disappointed because it’s obvious she doesn’t care for him more than she would care for a coworker or a classmate she was randomly paired with to complete an assignment.

Falco is silently pining when Gabi speaks, startling him.

“So, the world ends tomorrow,” she says easily. It’s like she’s talking about the weather. “Are you satisfied with how you spent your last days? No regrets?”

They’re two questions that seem related, but Falco’s answers for them are very different.

He is satisfied with how he spent his last days. The past week perhaps isn’t as spectacular by other people’s standards. Falco didn’t go bungee jumping or skydiving or deepsea divings like some of his peers. Some people would argue that the way he spent his last few days was as boring as the way he spent the past month, although Falco would argue that it was infinitely better because he had Gabi. He’s convinced that however he chose to spend his last days, as long as they were with Gabi, he would be happy. He could even watch the grass grow with Gabi and he’d be completely content. So, yes, he’s completely satisfied with how he spent his last few days, but he has many regrets.

He regrets not meeting Gabi earlier. He regrets not being able to spend more than a week with her. He regrets not doing things with her that kids their age should be doing: playing soccer in the field, catching butterflies by the river and letting them go, and hanging out at the arcade and beating their high scores. But most of all, he regrets feeling this way about Gabi and not being able to tell her.

Falco doesn’t answer her question. Instead, he asks, “Do you?”

“No,” Gabi replies with a smile and it makes Falco feel a little better about the ache in his chest.

»»————- April 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco doesn’t expect Gabi to call him the next day. Before bidding each other goodbye yesterday, Gabi suggested they not see each other again.

“You should spend the day with your family or something,” Gabi said to him. “Your parents probably want to spend their last day with their kids. I’ll just do this by myself. And, you know, thanks for everything.”

He had wanted to tell her that it was fine if they spent their last day together. He spent his whole life with his parents. He should at least spend one more day with Gabi if this is his last one, but he bit his tongue and said goodbye to her with the fakest smile before turning on his heel and walking as quickly as he could to where his mom would pick him up.

Falco was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling when Gabi called and told him to meet him at the bottom of the hill near the outskirts of his town. She said her mentor was coming back today and that they could visit her to see if there was still a possibility of saving the world. Falco didn’t even question her or ask if they really have any hope after their days of research lead to nothing. He just leapt out of bed, told his parents he would be out and that he loved them, and biked up to the hills where Gabi asked to meet him.

When he gets there, Gabi is already waiting for him, bundled in a navy peacoat and a gray scarf tied loosely around her neck. Her face breaks out in a grin when she sees him and she waves a gloved hand to greet him.

“How did you get here so fast?” Falco huffs once he finally reaches her. The hill gets too steep for him to bike, so he gets off his bicycle and walks with Gabi beside him.

“My uncle Reiner drove me here,” Gabi replies, shoving her hands in her pockets. She rolls her eyes, but her mouth twitches with a smile. “He says he wanted to spend a little more time with his favorite niece before she becomes famous for saving the world.”

“You really think we’re gonna do it?” Falco asks.

Gabi shrugs. “I think if my mentor thinks so, we probably have a good chance.”

They arrive at the mentor’s house at the top of the hill. It’s small, more like a tiny cabin than an actual house. When Gabi knocks, they’re greeted by a blond man with big blue eyes. The man smiles when he sees Gabi, pushing his tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hello, Gabi. I guess Mikasa told you she’d be coming back today,” the man says. He looks over Falco. “Hello. You must be Gabi’s friend Falco. I’m Armin.” The man offers a hand for Falco to shake.

Falco nods, wondering why the man’s name sounds so familiar. It’s only when he’s shaken the man’s hand that he remembers Gabi had mentioned Armin a few days ago when they were researching in the library. He’s the genius that likes to spend his days taking care of fish.

Falco follows Gabi when the man invites them into the cabin. Falco’s a little taken aback at how simple the interior is. The living room is small and the kitchen is smaller with only the essentials. There isn’t even a microwave.

“Sit down,” Armin says, gesturing at the dining table in the middle of the room. He heads towards the kitchen cabinets where he takes out three mugs. “I’ll make tea for us while we wait for Mikasa.”

“Can we see your fish later, Armin?” Gabi asks. She’s already settled down in a chair, kicking her legs back and forth. It’s clear that she feels at home here. When she notices that Falco hasn’t taken a seat yet, she gestures for him to sit down at the seat closest to her. To Armin, she continues, “I was telling Falco about you and he was curious about what a genius would be up to at the end of the world if he wasn’t trying to prevent the apocalypse.”

Armin chuckles. “Do you like fish, Falco?” he asks. He smiles when Falco makes a surprised noise, an answer stuck in his throat. “Sure, we can take a look a little later.”

Over apple tarts and tea, Gabi and Armin fill Falco in on Mikasa. She’s Armin’s wife, Gabi’s mentor, and the key to saving the world. Mikasa has a superpower, Gabi explains, that allows her to identify other people with superpowers and what those powers are. She helps people utilize their powers, but she took off for a month when the end of the world was announced to gather people with powers that might prevent the asteroid from crashing into the earth.

“Did Mikasa tell you if she met any promising people?” Gabi asks. She’s licked her plate clean and cinnamon sticks to her lips.

Armin shakes his head, a resigned smile on his face. “Unfortunately, no. She said all the candidates she met didn’t have any sort of useful power, but who knows? Maybe she’ll meet someone on the way here that can stop the meteor.”

“Ah, it’s a meteor now?” Falco asks, sitting up in his seat.

“It’s been one for a while,” Armin says. He glances out the window for a second. It’s not blue like it was when Falco woke up this morning. It’s orange now., not like a sunrise but more like someone has set the sky on fire. “We should be able to see it soon. The estimated time of impact is soon if I recall correctly. Hopefully, we get to see Mikasa soon.” His eyebrows are knitted together in concern, but Gabi looks just as unbothered as ever.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Gabi says. She collects her empty plate as well as Falco and Armin’s before depositing them in the sink. It’s an awfully normal thing to do considering the fact that the dirty dishes won’t matter when the earth is destroyed. She lets them soak in the sink and then turns to Armin. “Can we go see your fish now? Falco hasn’t seen them yet.”

“Sure,” Armin says with a smile. He gets up from the table and gestures for Falco to follow him. “Let’s go see the fish.”

Armin leads the children to a side room. Inside is a large glass fish tank with so many plants, shells, and rocks that Falco doesn’t see the fish at first. He and Gabi crouch beside the tank, their faces not quite touching the glass. Falco can see neon fish the size of his pinky darting back and forth between plants. He spots a miniature catfish the size of his thumb hiding behind a rock while a school of ten or so black and white striped fish zips around the 50-gallon tank. There are many more fish that Falco spots, lots of which he doesn’t know the name of but Armin patiently points them all out and tells Falco both the scientific and the common names of each fish and their habits. It’s clear that he loves it, taking care of the fish and looking after them, and Falco thinks he understands a little bit why Armin has chosen to spend the rest of the world like this. Occasionally, Gabi pipes in with whatever she remembers about each fish, usually their behavioral patterns she’s noticed when she’s visited, and Armin always grins whenever she speaks.

The three don’t notice when Mikasa arrives. They’re too busy staring at the fish swimming back and forth in the tank without a care in the world. The fish can’t grasp the fact that the world is ending. After all, their world only consists of the four glass walls that encase them and anything outside doesn’t concern them. It’s only when the door to the room opens and Mikasa steps in that the three realize that she’s returned. The fish, however, just keep swimming.

“That’s a nice way to spend the end of the world,” Mikasa comments. She has a tired smile on her face. She wears a soft cream-colored turtleneck, a long black coat hanging over her arm. “I see Gabi has joined us. As has her friend.” The woman nods at Falco.

“H-hello,” Falco stammers. He’s not sure what he was expecting Mikasa to look like. Perhaps like a woman with all the answers, someone who looked like she had seen the world, but she doesn’t. She just looks like any other woman, maybe a little more tired than other women, but still just a normal person. She doesn’t look like she has an amazing superpower, but then again neither does Gabi nor any of the potential candidates that claimed to have powers. “I’m Falco.”

“Ah, yes,” Mikasa says with a nod. “Gabi mentioned you before. I’m Mikasa, her mentor.” She drapes her coat over a nearby chair and walks over to join the three of them beside the fish tank.

“Did you find anyone?” Gabi asks. She looks out towards the living room, craning her neck to see if Mikasa had brought someone they didn’t notice.

“No, nobody that could save the world, if that’s what you’re asking,” Mikasa sighs, shoulder slumped. “Although, I did run into a guy who was convinced that the only way to save the world was to destroy it. I got away from him as quickly as possible.”

“Probably a smart decision,” Armin says with a nod, and Mikasa smiles in reply.

“Well, shall we go watch the end of the world together?” Mikasa asks, putting an arm around Gabi. She looks around at the others. “I heard it was going to be quite spectacular. Like a meteor show in the middle of the day.” Her eyes settle on Falco and her smile begins to falter. Her brows knit together and she opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something.

Armin notices the change in her demeanor and looks back and forth between Falco and Mikasa. “What’s wrong? Are you …?” It seems like something clicks in his head and he quickly turns to Falco. With a hand on the boy’s shoulder, Armin asks quickly, “Falco, do you have a power you haven’t told us about?”

The question startles Falco and he jerks away from Armin’s hand in surprise. “I … I don’t know,” he says, stumbling over his words. He’s never felt like he had any kind of superpower. He’s never shown any sign of being special. He’s always just been … normal.

“You … do you not know?” Mikasa asks, her eyebrows raised. She looks at Gabi. “Falco can save the world.”

It’s too much for Falco to take in when the world is about to end so soon. He has too many questions like: What power is he supposed to have? How come he didn’t know about it before? Is there still time to save everyone or is it too late? He opens his mouth to ask, not knowing which one will come out of his mouth first, when he feels a comforting hand on his elbow. Falco looks over to see Gabi standing beside him, somehow calm despite this revelation.

“What’s his power, Mikasa?”

“He can travel back in time,” Mikasa says, still staring at Falco with her intense gaze. “Under the event of an unexpected death like, say, getting hit by an asteroid, he can go back in time and prevent it from happening. But only if he remembers that it will happen in the first place.” Her eyes flicker towards Gabi for some reason.

“What … what does that mean ‘only if I remember’?” Falco asks Gabi.

Gabi’s biting down on her lip, expression contemplative. Finally, she tells Falco, “My power is that I’m unforgettable. If you reset your time after the meteor hits, usually you won't remember what happened, but you will if I use my power. You’d be able to remember me and everything we’ve done together. If you go back in time, maybe you can find a way to save the world because you’ll know what to expect.”

“Then … then that’s good news!” He doesn’t know why everyone around him isn’t jumping up and down in excitement right now. They’ve found a way to save the world. If not this time, then the next time or the time after that. “Isn’t this good news?”

“I mean, it is,” Gabi says. She doesn’t sound as confident as she usually does. Instead, she’s hesitant, almost shy. Falco doesn’t think he’s ever seen Gabi shy before. She’s looking at the floor now, kicking at the hardwood floor with her sock-clad feet. “It’s just that … I have to make you fall in love with me to make you remember me.”

Falco’s mouth falls open and no words come out.

“It’s not like it’s hard,” Gabi says almost hurriedly, more because she’s embarrassed than in a rush to save the world. She’s shed off her embarrassment and assumed her usual confident demeanor. “I’m very lovable, you know. It’s just …” Her voice trails off again.

“She has to seal it with a kiss,” Mikasa finishes, and Falco can see why Gabi was so embarrassed. His cheeks redden just from the thought of kissing Gabi. Mikasa adds rather apologetically, “It’s just the way it works, her power. She needs to kiss you.”

“Only if you’re okay with it, of course,” Gabi adds. She’s still avoiding his gaze, her eyes on the floor. “I’m fine if you’d rather not. You might just be stuck in the loop all by yourself. It’d be a little less painful since you won’t remember each time but still -”

“I’m okay with it,” Falco says.

Gabi looks up, surprised. “You are?”

“Yeah,” Falco says. “I’m … I’m fine with it. Let’s save the world. Together. That’s what our entire plan was, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Gabi repeats and she smiles. It’s different from how she’s smiled at him before. It’s a little bit bashful, a little bit excited. It looks nice on her, Falco thinks, and he’s so distracted that he’s surprised when he realizes she’s holding his hand.

Mikasa tugs at the elbow of Armin’s cardigan and the blond man nods. Taking Mikasa’s hand, he turns to the kids and says, “We’ll be out there just to give you two some privacy. Hopefully, we’ll see each other again soon.”

The door shuts softly behind the two adults. Falco doesn’t know if they wait in the living room or if they’ve gone outside to admire the sky. From the window, Falco can see that the sky has changed from a burnt orange to an explosion of different colors: shades of violet, pink, blue, and yellow all together almost like a watercolor painting. There are streaks of white in the sky. It’s like a meteor shower in the middle of the day just as Mikasa had said.

When he turns to Gabi, she’s looking at him with her hand still holding his. She’s chewing on the inside of her cheek, but she smiles when she sees he’s looking at her.

“Are you still up for it?” Gabi asks.

“Y-yeah,” Falco says, his voice cracking. He feels his face flush, but he likes the sound of Gabi’s giggle even if he’s the one she’s laughing at. He licks his lips nervously and leans in just the tiniest bit. “Is … is it okay if I kiss you?”

Gabi bites her lip and nods. She leans in too and Falco takes it as his cue to close his eyes and close the gap.

He doesn’t know what to expect from this kiss. Maybe warm lips pressing against his while his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. Maybe Gabi’s hands gripping his arms while his hands hover awkwardly around his waist. Maybe the world ending and, when his eyes open, Falco waking to thoughts of Gabi and how to find her next. But none of this happens. Instead, Gabi puts her hands on his shoulder and pushes him gently but firmly away.

“I can’t do it,” Gabi says.

“Wha-?”

“I can’t do it,” Gabi repeats with a shake of her head. She looks upset, but Falco doesn’t know why. He wonders what it is he did to offend her. Maybe she doesn’t want to kiss him. Maybe she finds him repulsive and doesn’t want to kiss him even if it means saving the world. Falco thinks this would be the case if Gabi didn’t look so apologetic. “I can’t kiss you. Not like this.”

“What do you mean?” Falco asks, panicked. He takes a glance at the window. Outside, the meteors in the sky look brighter. It’s like a million stars are falling to the earth. It’s only a matter of time before the world ends. He doesn’t know why Gabi is doing this.

“I don’t want to kiss you just to save the world and I don’t want you to kiss me for the same reason,” Gabi says, taking a step away from him. She shakes her head, tears pricking her eyes. “I want you to kiss me because you like me, not because you have some responsibility to save the earth so … so find me again and kiss me. Find me again and tell me you like me and kiss me hard. And then … and then we can save the world.”

But he wants to kiss her now. He wants to kiss her because he likes her. He wants to kiss her because the world is ending. He wants to kiss her even if the world isn’t ending. He wants to tell her that, but he doesn’t have the words.

Ever since Mikasa had revealed Falco’s power, everything has suddenly made sense to him. Falco understands now why his life felt so empty before he met Gabi and why he never felt the desire to do anything. He knows why he was so drawn to her when they first met that day in the city and why he felt like she completed him. It’s because they were meant to meet each other, meant to be together, meant to save the world.

Falco wants to kiss her so badly. He wants to hold Gabi’s face in his hands and put his lips on hers and kiss her until the world ends and when he wakes up again he’ll find her and kiss her again and again and again. He wants to tell her he likes her now and that he’ll like her again. He wants to tell her that he’d like her even if the world weren’t about to end, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t get to tell her anything.

A bright light flashes from the window. All Falco sees is Gabi and then white, and then nothing.

»»————- March 9, 2026 ————-««

Falco wakes up and rolls out of bed. He brushes his teeth in the bathroom and brushes out his hair before blearily heading down the stairs where his mom is making breakfast. His father hasn’t left for work yet, he notices, which is rather strange. His mother hasn’t finished making breakfast yet and his brother isn’t dressed for school. He stares at them, wondering why they’re acting so odd. It takes them a moment to realize he’s there.

“The world is ending next month,” his mother tells him. She points at the TV screen that Falco’s father is staring at. On it flashes a picture of an asteroid hurtling towards the earth. The little banner underneath the picture says it’s far too big to burn up in the atmosphere. Scientists have no hope of human survival.

“If I knew, I would have slept in,” Colt mumbles.

His family looks shocked by the news, but Falco doesn’t feel anything. He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl in the kitchen and starts to head out the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Colt asks him.

Falco pauses by the door. “I don’t know,” he says after a moment. He’s not sure what to do now that the world is ending. There isn’t anything in particular that he wants to do. “I’ll go to school, I guess.”

He leaves after assuring his parents that it’s fine, that he really doesn’t mind going to school because he isn’t sure what else to do. He stops by his mailbox and looks up at the sky. It’s clear and blue, no asteroid in sight.

He takes a deep breath and then releases it. It sounds like a sigh.

#falbi #snk #sf8 au #falco grice #gabi braun

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stones-x-bones · 3 years ago

Text

To Build A Home || Bex, Metzli and Milo

TIMING: The day after Metzli returns from this PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli, @wickedmilo, @inbextween SUMMARY: Milo and Bex meet up at Metzli’s, worried about the state of their friend. CONTENT: Medical blood, Emotional abuse mentions, Domestic abuse mentions (All paragraphs labeled accordingly for triggers)

Metzli’s reflection stared back with vacant eyes. The same eyes that watched Anselmo’s life leave him. The same eyes that watched trees blur by in silence as Macleod and them waltzed through the forest. Making a new dance. A steady and careful one that moved them through the tree line and back into White Crest. The earthquake their body created brought in a devastating tsunami that they could not halt. And as the tap ran in their sink for a little too long, tears fell to join the waterfall.

Dejection. That was the best word for their state. Even after washing all the blood and dirt from their skin, their body was still painted with gashes, scrapes, and bruises. The chunk of neck bitten off being the focal point. It hadn’t closed nearly enough to not cause alarm. The hoodie Metzli wore barely covered it up and they didn’t have the proper medical dressings to patch it up. But that was okay for now.

With the water shut off, Metzli moved back into the living room to sit on the couch. They had barely moved since they got back. Yuca didn’t leave their side, taking to following them everywhere. Small graces that they adored. “Ay mi vida, estoy bien.” They cooed and scritched her chin. Mind wandered to the events that transpired and they flinched. It was painful to look back, but Metzli supposed that was okay. They had lost so much, but gained as well.

For instance, Metzli bit back at their clan for the first time ever. Made their first attempt at defense to show Eloy they were more than the definitions he thrust upon them. The painful history was embraced and within it they found the strength to rewrite the legacy. At least, that was the hope. A hope that came in waves and left Metzli to settle in their anguish when it receded with the tide.

Milo was undeniably anxious, but he knew he needed to visit Metzli. Even if Bex would be there with them, even if it felt awkward, unfamiliar, and uncomfortable. He wanted to believe Bex wasn’t scared of him, he wanted to believe things could return to how they had been. He supposed the only way to repair their friendship was to move forward, to focus on the present. And in the present, Metzli needed them. Metzli needed them both. So, swallowing, he hitched his backpack a little higher, hearing the three bloodbags inside it slosh in a way most people would probably find disturbing. He had been sure to drink one before leaving the house, not wanting to feel any kind of thirst or temptation when his friend inevitably tore into them. Metzli had only told him to bring one, but in his experience it was far better to have too many than too few, especially when recovering from an injury. Climbing the stairs, taking them carefully in a bid to prolong his arrival, he caught a scent he recognised, a scent that confirmed he wasn’t as early as he might have hoped. Maybe it wouldn’t matter who arrived first, but he had convinced himself he would feel less self conscious if he was already in the apartment when Bex arrived. Of course, nothing was ever that simple, so he grit his teeth, forcing down what was left of his anxiety before making his way towards the end of the hall.

Bex was standing outside Metzli’s apartment, hand raised ready to knock, and he felt a jolt of guilt upon seeing her. Resisting the urge to turn and retreat, he reminded himself that he was going to have to talk to her eventually. It wasn’t fair to avoid her, not after everything he had put her through. Taking heavy steps so that she would be made aware of his presence, he caught her eye as she turned to face him, offering her a hesitant smile. Metzli’s words echoed in his mind, predator, and prey. He repressed a shudder, refusing to acknowledge them. Jeez, it shouldn’t be this difficult. His skin was crawling as he remembered the last time they had seen each other. He hated it, he hated this. He hated what he had become. “Hey…” He whispered, not wanting to draw attention to their arrival just yet. “Does… does Metzli know you’re here?”

Bex didn’t know if vampires had first-aid kits. When Milo had shown up to their house needing stitches, Bex had wondered if it was because he didn’t have the right tools at his own. She didn’t really know how well vampires healed from wounds. She knew how fast Mina healed, she knew Morgainterrupting n healed instantly, she knew Deirdre healed quickly, she knew she herself healed extremely slow-- she still had the cuts from Milo’s teeth nearly piercing her skin before she’d thrown him off on her neck, after all-- but she didn’t know how fast vampires really healed. Milo had said his wounds had taken a few days to heal, but how bad were Metzi’s? If they’d almost died, they had to be worse, and Bex hated that thought. She didn’t know what she needed, if she needed anything, but she still stuffed the entire first-aid kit into her purse, sutures and gauze and hydrogen peroxide and all, before racing off to Metzli’s apartment.

She hadn’t even considered how she’d feel seeing Milo again. She figured it would all just be fine, she wasn’t mad at him or anything, and she knew he hadn’t meant it, but when he called out to her and she turned to see him, her body felt frozen, and she felt her magic rushing defensively to the surface, as if expecting him to lunge again. “I-- no, they-- no,” she stumbled over her words a bit, swallowing back the fear and the guilt and lowering her hand. “I haven’t knocked yet. I ran all the way here and winded myself,” she found herself admitting, for no reason, really. She always rambled when she was anxious, or when she was worried, or when she was panicked. Especially when she was all three. “We should go inside, though. We should really just--” but she still didn’t move, blinking as she looked at Milo.

Milo wasn’t sure whether to move closer, or stay where he was. The last thing he wanted to do was make Bex uncomfortable. Hovering awkwardly, he couldn’t help the familiar rush of affection he felt when she told him she had run to the apartment. It hadn’t been necessary. They both knew Metzli wasn’t going anywhere, but Bex wouldn’t rest until she was by their side. She needed to be there for them as quickly as she was physically able. Sometimes he found himself wishing she would put herself first, even once. But it wasn’t in her nature, and as somebody who frequently put himself first, he found it to be an incredibly admirable trait. “Yeah, we- we probably should.” He eyed the door, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before speaking again, stopping her from announcing their arrival. He needed to say something, he wouldn’t feel right until he apologised. “Bex-” He took a hesitant step closer, breaking off as he struggled to find the right words. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it but I- I’m really sorry.” Apologies were difficult, he spent most of his life deflecting responsibility so that he wouldn’t have to accept it. But this was different, he owed her this much.

Glancing down at her neck, tearing his gaze away before it could linger on the scarf hiding the evidence of his attack, he cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “I didn’t know I could lose it like that, not when I wasn’t hungry. I still have so much to learn but it… it shouldn’t come at the expense of my friends.” He caught her eye, his vision suddenly blurred by tears. He hurried to blink them away. “I should have told you- the moment I realised you were bleeding, I should have told you how I was feeling. It wasn’t fair… I was just so scared, and confused, and when the danger was gone this relief came crashing down and it overwhelmed me.” He took another step forward, listening to her heartbeat to ensure he wasn’t making her nervous. “Can you forgive me?” His voice sounded small, even to his own ears, and he realised he felt small. If she said no, he would be crushed. This level of vulnerability was alien, and unfamiliar to him. “I don’t want you to forgive me because you want me to be okay. I want you to be honest, Bex… I only want you to be okay.”

Bex turned to knock again but Milo said her name and she paused mid motion, again, glancing over at him. He wanted to talk about what happened and that made sense, but Bex didn’t really want to talk about it. This didn’t feel like the right time to talk about it. But she couldn’t just go inside and ignore him. She turned to look at him as he spoke, stumbling this way through an apology. And it wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it, but she was curious. Hadn’t she already told him it was okay? That she didn’t blame him? Well, he hadn’t stayed online long enough for her to say much. She’d asked if he was okay and wanted to make sure that he was okay, and he hadn’t said much back. She looked at her feet, and then at him. “I-- I never said I didn’t want to talk about it,” she corrected quietly, shuffling her feet. “And I know. That you’re sorry. I know all that. I--” she stopped mid sentence, perplexed. “What do you mean can I forgive you? I already did? Milo, that...everything that happened that night was my fault. I don’t blame you for what happened. We were-- things were bad and dire and sometimes we just lose control. I...I know that feeling.” And she did, god did she know. Maybe it wasn’t a bloodlust or a murderous rage, but it was rage-- rage that could hurt and could make you bleed and could kill.

“I forgive you,” she stated, “I promise.”

The ringing in Metzli’s ears began to subside and they could hear Milo and Bex clear as day outside of the door. Yuca was rubbing up against it, the first time she’d strayed away from their side. Legs moved involuntarily towards her, towards the voices of friends that were coming over to help. Statements of apologies and blood and control and forgiveness…

Voices cut in and out, growing muffled and clear over and over again. It was a state of mind they hadn’t experienced before. A culmination of what had happened. A product of violence, pain, and distress. Metzli’s friends needed time, so they gave it to them. Waiting by the door, playing with the pendent Macleod had given them. Pressure built and it waned, only to build up once again. As a promise was spoken and as it tethered to Milo, the door opened suddenly. Eyes darted back and forth from the clasp around the door to Milo and Bex standing outside of the doorframe.

“Uh…I—super hearing.” Their voice was a mutter, barely audible. Metzli couldn’t move, realizing that they had just revealed not only what they heard, but their current state.

Milo faltered. Bex was right, she hadn’t said that. He realised, not for the first time, that he was projecting onto her. He was the one finding it impossible to navigate their situation. And he was trying to blame her for the emotional turmoil. He stayed silent, mulling over his realisation, along with his friend’s reassurances. He didn’t feel as though he had earned them, but he needed them far too much to try and deny himself. Feeling his shoulders drop as tension he didn’t know he was carrying left his body, he smiled again. This smile was far more sincere, a genuine smile, conveying his love, and his gratitude. “Not everything,” he pointed out. If he had only been better at communicating, she could have helped him, or made her escape before he lost control of himself. Instead, he had allowed himself to become distracted, too embarrassed, and ashamed of his craving to admit that he might be a danger. “I’ll be better.” He added. “I will.” Reaching up to brush the tears out of his eyes, doing his best to compose himself, Bex had been one of the first people to explain the true depth of a promise, and it wasn’t lost on him how important it was that she was making one now. She was okay. She wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t the truth, and he finally, finally allowed himself to relax. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from his chest, but before he could fully process the sensation, the door beside Bex opened to reveal Metzli; battered, and bruised, but otherwise whole.

[MED BLOOW TW]

Staring at them in shock, hoping his concern wasn’t obvious in his expression, he did his best to assess their injuries without drawing attention to them. Jeez, they were so much worse than he ever could have imagined. Maybe he should be fussing over them, running his hands through their hair to check for any further damage, observing their pupils for signs of concussion, or their temperature in case they had developed an infection. But Metzli was a vampire, and despite being one himself, he still wasn’t adept when it came to undead first aid. So he decided to do what he was good at, and he played off the situation as casual. “You look like shit.” The words escaped him before he could question whether they were appropriate, and he reached into his backpack, pulling out a bloodbag to thrust it upon Metzli. They needed to drink, that much he was sure of. Ignoring the smell of death that seemed to surround them, the congealed, and disconcerting scent of blood no longer circulating its body, he brushed past them into their apartment, gesturing towards the now empty couch. “Sit, Metzli. I mean it, you need to rest.”

[MED BLOOD TW END]

Bex, unlike MIlo, let all the worry and concern and fear show on her face. She was bad at hiding it now. She’d spent twenty-one years learning how to hide how she felt only to have it undone by just a few people in a matter of months. “Metzli,” Bex exhaled and as Milo pushed past, she just surged forward and wrapped her arms around them and felt the physical weight of their body in her arms and knew that it was real. They were okay. They were alive. She couldn’t even remember how many times she’d worried Mina wouldn’t come home, how many times she’d looked at her text messages and wondered if it was just someone else texting her and it wasn’t real. Things never felt real. But this was real. Metzli was real. She blinked back tears as she unfurled, reluctantly, and looked up at their face. It was torn and cut and bruised and there was just a gaping wound in their neck and Bex had to swallow because the last time she’d seen someone this torn up was when she’d found Mina half-dead in a forest clearing, bleeding out caught in a bear trap.

“Sorry, I-- I didn’t hurt you, did I?” She scraped the back of her hand across her eyes, wiping the tears away and gently tugging them inside, shutting the door. “Milo’s right, you should sit. I-- I brought supplies. First aid supplies. I can-- treat some of that. Or try to. I’m not a doctor but I know a little bit. I know how to do stitches, I learned after-- I learned recently.” Maybe, if she kept talking, she wouldn’t think about the people she cared about dying. Maybe her thoughts wouldn’t stop long enough for her to see them dead and bleeding and screaming. Maybe, if she kept talking, the images Roy had made her see wouldn’t come back.

[MED BLOOD TW]

Everything happened at once. The blood bag in their hand and the feeling of being squeezed forced Metzli to tense their whole body. But they were relieved, so happy to see both of them. And despite the lingering feeling of hope and happiness, their body trembled. From what exactly, they didn’t know. It was overwhelming, though and they were unprepared for how the effects would make their body react. Tightened eyes caused stars to shine brightly, even tighter body caused the two to stumble and push out a small groan. “Not any more hurt than I was before.” A smile teetered off of their face and pupils contracted as vampiric instincts infected their body. “B-Bex, back up—” They managed to say just before swiveling their body away from her to pierce the bag and wolf down the contents. The blood was the antidote and the effects of it were jarring. Having grown used to the dryness of their throat, Metzli hadn’t anticipated the bulldozing relief of consuming sustenance. Legs gave out and knees buckled, followed by a bony thud when they made impact with the floor.

[MED BLOOD TW END]

“I’m okay, I’m okay. Overwhelmed.” Metzli quickly said with an uncharacteristically empty voice. “Thanks, Milo.” The two locked eyes for a blink and the vacancy in theirs was prominent. Fear and pain made Metzli ill and deteriorated the person they once were. They were practically unrecognizable. Not from appearance, but from energy, or lack thereof.

A leg pulled forward, a hand leveraged itself on a knee, and they were upright once more. Bruises and cuts, even the bite, they were all visibly healing. Metzli felt better too. Not by much, but it was enough. More than enough. At least, physically. Emotionally and mentally, they felt far from better. But when it came to issues of the heart, the vampire tried to pretend they were unaffected. Even if it was useless. “I don’t know if I need medical attention. Most things aren’t as deep as they were. Don’t know if, um…” Words failed them, too nervous about fully revealing their most severe wound. A trembled hand pulled their hoodie down a little, and Metzli avoided both pairs of eyes. “Don’t know if you can stitch this. It’s uh, wide.”

Milo watched Bex embrace Metzli as he dropped his bag by the kitchen unit. There was something so wholesome about it, he could feel just how much his friends cared for each other. And he knew that if he was the one injured, they would be there for him in the same way. A strange realisation. He had spent so long only really having Dani, and a handful of people who enabled his habits, but who didn’t feel as though they could really be considered friends. Now he was surrounded by love in a way he never had been. In a way that made his still heart ache inside his chest. Maybe this was what it felt like to truly belong. Catching Bex’s eye at the mention of stitches, he offered her a gentle smile, remembering how she and Mina had taken care of him when he was drunk with nobody else to turn to. Averting his gaze as Metzli withdrew, turning their back to drink the blood he had given them, he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining the awkward tension. If Bex’s words in the hall were anything to go by then it was entirely in his head. But he didn’t look back up until Metzli had finished drinking.

The moment they were done with the empty plastic, he moved forward to take it back, but before he had the chance Metzli had fallen to their knees. Feeling a jolt of fear, he hurried to reach them, trying to understand why they had suddenly collapsed. The expression on their face was so unfamiliar, and when they spoke he realised they no longer sounded like Metzli. It was clear they were suffering mentally as well as physically, but right now their physical wellbeing was the only thing he could actively help with. “There’s more where that came from.” He told them, crouching beside them so they were on the same level. “I brought three bags, and I can always get more…” Trailing off, up close the bruises and cuts looked so much worse. He couldn’t help but stare at their throat, at the skin and tissue that was healing, but nowhere near fast enough to stop the injury from looking absolutely horrific. “Even if it doesn’t help, we’re treating you.” He said, leaving no room for argument as he forced himself to focus. He shot Bex a look, knowing they both felt the same way. It might not make a difference but they longed to be proactive, they wouldn’t be able to rest until they knew they had done everything within their power to heal their friend. “Come on, sit down…” When he was sure Metzli was steady on their feet, he stood upright, gestured towards the couch again, making sure they followed his instruction. Wincing, unable to help himself, as they pulled down the collar of their hoodie, he pushed his glasses further up his nose. “We’ll do what we can, okay?”

Bex tried to do as Metzli said and back away, but before she knew it, they were collapsing to their knees, and even Milo was rushing to their side to see if he could help. She fought the urge to grab them in her arms again and sidled over, uneasy, wondering if she should help or if she was supposed to still stay back. The blood bag was emptied, though, so she took that as a sign that she’d be able to approach. “Milo’s right, let’s just...get you to the couch and go from there,” she said, nodding, trying not to look at or think about the cuts and bruises on Metzli’s face. And that was just what she could see. She held out a hand, even as Metzli showed them the extent to the injury on their neck and Bex tried not to think about how it matched the gash in Mina’s side that Frank had left behind. She hurried Metzli over to the couch as much as she could, before dropping her purse and pulling out the first-aid kit she’d brought. “Okay, maybe no stitches, but I can at least wrap it, right? Cover it up a little, make sure it heals right. I mean, me and Mina helped Milo a few weeks ago, so this isn’t, like any different.”

She didn’t know if that was true, she didn’t think it was true. But she had to believe that, if she could heal the wounds, then maybe the ones inside might get better, too. Her hands shook as she unraveled a roll of gauze and held it up. “Just let us help, okay? That’s why we’re here. And-- and this way you won’t have to worry about hurting it more or getting things in the wound.”

With a nod, Metzli took Bex’s hand and listened to both of their friends. The weight they were feeling before, having to carry everything on their own, began to subside. It wasn’t just them carrying it anymore. This was a boxing match that they were tapping out of, for now, so their friends could take over. “Thanks,” They muttered, looking distantly at the black television in front of the couch. “Help. Right. I, uh. Right.” They removed the hoodie slowly, groaning in discomfort from the aches and pains. A slew of bruises and cuts covered their skin and two stab wounds lay at their lower abdomen. “Forgot about those.” A shaky finger pointed and they chuckled dryly. Being taken care of wasn’t a norm and it brought a sense of anxiety with it. Is this okay? Is this right? They’re in danger because of you. And despite the thoughts that circled in their mind, that paced a trail of misery, they leaned back onto the couch.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Which was a lie, it was even worse than it looked. Taking on several vampires, especially one that was over two hundred year old was extremely dangerous. The results of it were devastating and created wounds deeper than what any stab wound could make. “I’m really sorry you guys are caught up in this now. It’s my fault. And if I need to leave, I will. I swear.” Metzli began to ramble, to panic now that the mass was shared and no longer held the dam of anxiety and fear back. “I’m just sorry.” Was all that could be said as they looked away to avoid their friends from seeing their tears.

Feeling an odd sense of pride upon hearing he was right, Milo pushed it aside so that he could focus on helping Bex. He didn’t get many things right in his life, but maybe he had found something he was genuinely good at. Maybe he was good at helping his friends. At the mention of his stitches, he pointedly rolled up his sleeve, showing Metzli the faint marks left by the first aid that his friends had applied. It hadn’t been too long ago, but months may as well have passed him by. “Barely even a scar, I think it’ll be gone in a week or two.” He added, as though Metzli needed any more convincing. They didn’t look like they had the energy to protest, which was probably going to work in their favour. When they were comfortably settled on the couch, he pulled a second blood bag out of his backpack, handing it to them with a look that told them they had no choice but to drink it. “She’s pretty good, you know… Doctor Bex. Even as a vampire, I doubt it’s healthy to leave it all exposed like that…” Catching Bex’s eye, a warmth spreading outwards from his chest when she said we’re, he smiled at her, pulling his sleeve back down again. They were in this together now, with a common goal. With somebody they needed to protect. “And we’re not going anywhere either.” He moved to take a seat beside Metzli, knowing he didn’t have much to offer beyond moral support, and some blood. Bex had the tools to really help, and he trusted her medical abilities.

Understanding Metzli taking Bex’s hand was a sign of submission, a sign of surrendering themself to her care, he grinned, and it came far more easily than he might have expected. The situation was serious, and terrifying, but they had each other. And at least he and Bex weren’t going to have to fight against any stubborn insistence, or false bravado. “You don’t have to thank us, moron.” He carefully tugged at the hem of Metzli’s hoodie, helping to get it over their head without the material brushing against the worst of their injuries. Folding it neatly in his lap, it took all of three seconds for Yuca to jump onto it, obviously comforted by the scent of her owner. “Jeez, Metzli…” He muttered, looking away as they gestured towards their stomach. It seemed they had managed to get hurt in every area physically possible. How they were still walking and talking remained a mystery. “Bullshit.” He countered. “It’s every bit as bad as it looks. Why else do you think we came?” Scratching Yuca behind the ears, he pointedly held their gaze, daring them to try and contradict him. “And you’re not going anywhere either. No fucking way. What would you say if this was one of us?” He asked. It was undeniably a rhetorical question. One that they all knew the answer to. Making an effort to soften his tone as he noticed the sudden peak in Metzli’s anxiety, he leaned forward so that they would be forced to look at him. “Hey… Hey, look at me, Metzli. You don’t have to worry about anything else right now, just look at me and- I don’t know, tell me something interesting? What’s your favourite colour?” Glancing at Bex, he silently conveyed his plan to distract Metzli while she set to work on treating them. “Or favourite song? If you say anything with an apology in the title I will destroy your hoodie, don’t think I won’t.”

It was strange. Last time Bex had been trying to patch up someone this beat up, she’d had too few medical supplies, wondering if they’d make it through to the morning, or if they might both just die in the night. This time, she had too much supplies, as she sorted through the first-aid kit and looked for something labeled antiseptic or antibiotic. There was a little spray bottle with hydrogen peroxide in it and she picked it up, listening to Milo talk to Metzli. He seemed at ease, in his element, right now. Bex, however, could only let dark thoughts consume her, as she sprayed a cotton pad with the peroxide and tried not to show the horror on her face when the rest of their injuries came into view. She bit the inside of her cheek, glancing away and occupying herself with finishing up prepping the bandages. “Just...hold still,” she said after a moment, holding up the pad and pressing it to the patch on their neck, before she took the gauze and began wrapping it around. “That’s um, not too tight, is it?” She moved in closer to make sure she wasn’t messing it up, before taking the small scissors and cutting it off. Taped it down gently and sat back, looking to the gashes on their stomach.

[MED BLOOD TW/DOMESTIC ABUSE TW]

All she could see was the oozing, black wound Frank had left on Mina’s side and Bex fought to not just leap up and run away. She reached out with shaky fingers to touch gently next to the wound on their abdomen. “I should probably clean this, first,” she explained, trying not to let the anxiety and warble of Metzli’s voice get to her just yet. She couldn’t cry just yet. She looked over at Milo, then to Metzli. “It’s true. There’s no need to apologize. We-- we’re here because we want to be. Because you’re important to us.” She breathed in, held it. She hated seeing the people she cared about like this, while being too weak to do anything. Mina, Milo, Metzli...they could do these things, while Bex’s fragile heart barely let her get up the stairs nowadays. “No one’s going anywhere.”

[MED BLOOD TW/DOMESTIC ABUSE TW END]

With a deep swallow, Metzli managed to look back at Milo and listen fully. He sounded kind and worried. He sounded like he truly cared. Bex too. But her care came in the form of actions as she got them patched up. She moved with the gentlest of touch and caution, making them feel safe. “Mauve. Or forest green. Both nice colors.” They began, piercing the second blood bag that Milo had given them and sipping on it as they pondered on the second question. Most of their favorite songs were likely ones neither of them had heard of. Being that they were both classical and Mexican in origin. So they picked something they may recognize. “Oddly enough, I like that Linkin Park group. Uh, One More Light. Or that Swift chick. That new album was actually written okay-ish.” The corner of Metzli’s mouth curved into a small smirk, before frowning from the small wince they reacted from the gauze with. “No, not too tight. It just hurts in general.”

The tremor in Bex’s voice began to set in a worry that couldn’t be fought off. Wolfing down the last remnants of the blood bag, Metzli lifted a hand to Bex’s face and had her pause for a moment while they cupped her cheek. “You can take a second. I know it’s a lot. Just breathe a little. I’m okay. I’m alive.” Slowly, that same hand backed away and patted Milo’s shoulder. They smiled wryly, but it was soft and grateful. “You too. Thank you. Both of you.”

[DOMESTIC/EMOTIONAL ABUSE TW]

Never having a real family, Metzli always had to step out on their own, taking lonely steps into the storm. Weathering it alone was hard, and sometimes it seemed impossible. But right now, the future, making it there, seemed very possible. They were no longer left to get bloodied and dirtied alone, and maybe they couldn’t fully accept it yet, but they were going to try. Because it felt good. Because it felt right. It felt right to use the veins of their heart like a thread to connect themselves, their own heart to others who were willing to go into war with them. Others like Milo and Bex. And in the end, they wouldn’t have to count their pride as one of the casualties. Relying on people didn’t have to mean sacrificing pride. It just meant that you were expanding on it. Being proud of who you had.

[DOMESTIC/EMOTIONAL ABUSE TW END]

“Do I at least still look good?”

Staying quiet so that he wouldn’t disrupt Bex, Milo listened to Metzli’s answers, deciding that forest green suited them as a person. “Mauve is nice…” He agreed, his voice gentle as he did his best to distract them from any pain they might be feeling. “I like yellow… I think it’s a happy colour.” Anybody who knew him would be able to see yellow was his favourite. From his knitted sweaters, to his converse, he wore yellow far more often than not. The smell of blood hit him with force as Metzli began to drink the second bag, he was far closer than he had been for the first one. But he didn’t allow himself to dwell, almost proud of the fact that he was able to force down any thirst he felt. “You like Linkin Park?” He echoed in disbelief, doing nothing to stop a laugh from escaping him. “Do people even listen to them anymore?” Raising his eyebrows at the following names, if he had been surprised by Linkin Park, he was downright shocked to hear his friend list Taylor Swift as an artist they enjoyed. “Wow, I knew you had bad taste,” he teased, “but not that bad. This might be the end of our friendship.” His smile growing when he noticed Metzli’s lips twitch, it was all the validation he needed to continue in his strategy. But he was pulled out of his own thoughts by Metzli reaching out to caress Bex, their fingers soft, and comforting against her cheek. He suddenly felt guilty, remembering this wasn’t just about Metzli. He was used to the aftermath of injuries, not only because he was a vampire, but because of the people he used to surround himself with as a human.

He had been known to panic under the stress of chaos, but things weren’t chaotic right now. He was more than adept when it came to focusing on the task at hand, but maybe Bex wasn’t. Maybe this was a lot for her. Realistically, it should be a lot for anyone. “Alive, with terrible taste in music, apparently.” He added, hoping to draw a smile from both of his friends. It made sense to try and comfort them while he was the most emotionally stable, even if he wasn’t used to that particular brand of responsibility. Leaning into Metzli’s touch, he shook his head to brush off their thanks. “No thank yous, and no apologies, okay?” He ordered, knowing they were never going to follow his instruction. He could hold a stake to their heart and they would insist upon taking the blame. “The assumption being that you ever looked good?” He asked, feigning innocence despite laughing at his own joke, despite the deep, and painful injuries littering Metzli’s skin, despite being unable to avoid acknowledging just how close they had come to death… true death. He wanted to cling to the fact that they had survived their attack. They were still here, and for a brief moment in time, nothing else needed to matter.

Bex listened as she worked and tried to use their conversation as a distraction as much as Metzli was. Milo was doing a good job, keeping them at ease, even if they all knew this mess had been created by something far more terrible than it was being made out to be. She swallowed and tried to calm the shaking in her hand, reaching over with her free hand to stabilize it when she felt a cold hand against her cheek. She looked up to meet Metzli’s eyes, still for a moment, as she tried not to just surge forward and hug them again. But they were right, she had to remind herself they were right. They were alive and they were okay, and they could take their time, now, to regather and come up with a better plan so that this didn’t happen again. So that there wouldn’t be a repeat of what happened. So that Bex wouldn’t have to live through another Frank trying to kill someone she cared about.

She nodded and set her hands in her lap. She felt embarrassed, almost, that she couldn’t keep it together long enough to patch up her friend. Even Milo was taking this better than her. She knew Milo and Metzli were close, but she wondered if it was a different kind of close than her and Metzli. There was something between them but Bex couldn’t figure out what it was, exactly. “Taylor Swift is a great artist,” she said, mostly at Milo, before she gathered enough of herself to look back at Metzli and hold up the pad to begin cleaning their wounds. “And you look very handsome. Chicks dig scars anyway, right?”

Metzli scowled playfully at Milo, and blew a single raspberry at him. “Excuse me? I have great taste in music. Those are just the artists you’d know, for your information. Most of my music consists of classical and kumbia. At least you have decent taste in colors.” Stomach rumbled with their laughter and wincing only made them laugh more. Somehow laughing while in pain made it that much funnier. Being safe in the presence of friends made it feel safe to laugh. Whatever wounds they had would heal and fade, but the connection and care they had for one another wouldn’t. It was set in deeper than anyone could reach.

Being confident in their looks, a hand shot up to flip Milo off accordingly. “You’re just coming after me, huh? At least Bex has taste. She can’t take her eyes off of me, see? And it totally does not have to do with my wounds. Just my wonderful physique.” Metzli couldn’t help the smile that they poorly held back, letting it turn into a fit of laughter as they adjusted themselves to be closer to Bex and settle down. When the spray hit their wound, it surprisingly stung, making their hand jerk and squeeze Bex’s knee. If there was anyone they trusted to be remotely affectionate with, it was her. Meanwhile, Milo was someone they trusted to speak openly with and find the balance between humor and venting.

“By chicks, do you mean you, B—” They flinched again, and this time their other hand shot out to Milo, grabbing his hand. “Sorry. It stings a little.” Despite wanting to retract their hand, feeling like they may have invaded his space, they didn’t. The affection felt normal and like it was something they were missing out on. Letting themselves relax, they let their hands rest with each friend, finding comfort in it.

Grinning at Bex as she countered both of his statements, Milo’s eyes were shining in a way that made it clear just how much he enjoyed teasing her. It made things feel normal, somehow. And far less dire than they probably were. “Hm, this is something I have been told.” He added, trying to keep a straight face as though they were discussing an incredibly serious topic. “Why do you think I keep my scars to a minimum? I don’t want to spend my time fending them off, you know?” Biting down on his bottom lip to repress a smile, he gave up on any pretense when Metzli stuck their tongue out. It felt good to see them behaving so much like themself after their empty expression from earlier. It felt as though the presence of friends might be grounding them, might be slowly pulling them back to the surface. “So what you’re telling me is you have bad taste, and you’re pretentious?” He countered, catching Metzli’s gaze now that he was sure Bex had settled again. “Good to know.” Embarrassed to feel tears sting at his eyes when the unexpected sound of Metzli’s laughter hit him, he blinked them away, brushing at his cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie. Bex and Metzli were both struggling, he needed to be the strong one, even if he didn’t really know how. “Yeah, I’m coming after you, because you nearly got yourself killed, and I don’t want to live in a world without Metzli Bernal, okay? This is me officially calling you out.” Glancing back at Bex, he couldn’t help but laugh. After so much worry, and concern, he needed this. He really fucking needed this.

Shifting on the couch so that Metzli had more room to adjust their position, the spray had obviously hurt them, but there wasn’t very much he could do to offer them comfort. He didn’t want to invade their personal space, but he was saved from the moral conflict when Metzli reached out first, taking his hand and holding it as though it was going to tether them, help them to navigate their obvious pain. He stared down at their hands, fingers linked as though it was natural, as though they had done this a million times before, and he realised with a jolt that it felt natural. He held them with a grip he hoped was gentle, and firm. He wanted them to know they were safe, at least for now. He wanted them to know that he was with them. “Squeeze my hand if it hurts, Metzli.” He prompted, noticing the way they were gripping at Bex’s knee. “My bones are a lot harder to break.”

[MED BLOOD TW]

In the moment, Bex really appreciated the mutual understanding that Milo and her seemed to have. He knew what she needed from him, what Metzli needed from him, and he seemed to be trying his damndest to do it for them, despite the sparkle of tears that she saw glimmering in his eye. She tried to pass him a short smile before she grabbed the suture needle and held it up, frowning at Metzli’s teasing. Her cheeks turned red involuntarily and she looked away, hiding it as much as she could, before leaning forward and squeezing together one of Metzli’s wounds and jabbing the needle in, a little less gentle than she normally would have. “Oops,” she said, grinning innocently up at Metzli,” my bad.” As she continued, she gave it a much more gentle hand, making sure to not pull too hard as she threaded the needle through their cold, damp skin. She looked up at them when she was done with the first patch and smiled. “See? My sewing lessons in school actually paid off.” She ushered to the next one and for Metzli to shift so she could get better access to it, laying her hands flat on their side for a moment, warming the skin up around the wound. “And you do have a nice physique. I’m allowed to look,” she stated, as if there was no room for argument. She didn’t look over at Milo, though.

[MED BLOOD TW END]

She glanced down at their hand on her knee. “So what if I do dig scars? My girlfriend has plenty for me to admire.” She took up the needle again and set to work, looking over at Milo. “Please don’t break anything. I would like to only have to patch up one friend at a time, thanks.”

There was a strained laugh when Bex admitted she was allowed to look. It always felt so humorous when she revealed her attraction to Metzli in some form or fashion. They supposed it fed into their ego, but at this point, it was just a fun game. “It’s always hilarious to get you to admit I’m attractive. See, Milo? I’m hot.” Metzli laughed harder, but tried to contain it in order to let Bex work effectively. The wincing was kept to a minimum for the most part, but at some points, it was difficult to keep the groans of pain muffled. When they squeezed their hands, it wasn’t too hard, but enough to cause notice. “Sorry. I just—sorry.” The pain took them back to their fear, the fear of Eloy’s impending arrival.

[DOMESTIC/EMOTIONAL ABUSE TW]

With the final stitch, Metzli’s eyes shut tightly and they tried their best to hold whatever tears that flowed forward, back. They could see Anselmo attacking them, they could see Eloy punishing them once again, they could see themselves dying and all of it scared them. They’d never been scared of dying before, but then again, they’d never had anything to lose. All humor was lost now, and tears streamed down their face even though they tried desperately to go back to what they were before.

Finally, their voice broke through and Metzli was able to ask their friends what had been on their mind. “Has Master Eloy contacted both of you? Did he threaten you?”

[DOMESTIC/EMOTIONAL ABUSE TW]

Milo watched Bex tease Metzli before fully dedicating herself to her task. It was clear she was feeling more comfortable, less overwhelmed by their current situation. Rolling his eyes at the mention of Metzli’s physique, he decided not to say anything. There were only so many times he could playfully disagree before it stopped being funny, and started feeling cruel. “Sure,” he answered instead. “You can’t choose what you’re into, right?” His smile growing when Bex began to talk about Mina’s scars, he ignored the voice in the back of his mind, the one telling him he was the only person in the room without some form of romantic interest. It was something he had been thinking about an awful lot, as of late. And he hated that he had started to want something so unnecessary, and inconsequential. Hadn’t he spent his entire life without a boyfriend, or a significant other? He was perfectly fine on his own. “Hey, if I break anything it’s going to be Metzli’s fault.” He pointed out, holding up their joined hands. “Don’t look at me.” Tightening his grip so that Metzli would know he wasn’t being serious, he inched closer to them, letting his shoulder rest against theirs.

[EMOTIONAL ABUSE TW]

“Hot is subjective.” He added, unable to help himself when Metzli continued to encourage their friend. Though it was undeniably amazing to see them so genuinely happy, it didn’t last as long as he might have hoped. The pain, and reality of their injuries was all too ready to bring them back down again. But he stayed where he was, knowing they would find comfort in the physical contact. “Do you want to talk about something else?” He asked, noticing they had closed their eyes. If only he could distract them, but he wasn’t given the chance. If anything, Metzli decided now was the time to distract him. Caught off guard by the mention of Eloy, he so wished he could convince them to stop calling him Master. It made him uncomfortable, it was an unsettling reminder that no matter what Metzli said, they still had a warped sense of respect for the man, or at the very least some twisted sense of loyalty. Tensing in a way he knew wouldn’t go unnoticed, he caught Bex’s eye, silently questioning whether they should be honest about what had transpired. “I-” He broke off, the words dying in his throat. “I don’t think you should be worrying about that. Not right now.”

[EMOTIONAL ABUSE TW END]

Bex’s nose scrunched. “Why’s it funny? I’ve never denied your attractiveness. You’re very attractive and so is Milo. You know,” she glanced over at him with a cheeky grin, “for a guy.” With the stitches finished, Bex leaned back. “There.” She reached out to pat Metzli’s leg, taking the hand they’d placed on her knee and squeezing it. Her face faltered at the mention of Eloy and the messages and she cast a quick look over to Milo, wondering what he might say about it. As she thought, he decided to try and avoid the topic. Milo didn’t like lying to his friends. He already told Bex he didn’t think she should hide this from Mina, but he didn’t understand-- sometimes you needed to lie, to keep people safe, to keep them okay. Mina was dealing with too much right now, she didn’t need this, too. And Metzli didn’t need to know what he’d said to her, they were also dealing with enough. Bex swallowed, forced a smile, and shook her head. “No, but, like Milo said, let’s not think about that right now,” she urged.

[DOMESTIC/EMOTIONAL ABUSE TW]

Metzli was crying, though, and Bex really hated it when people she cared about cried. She reached out with her free hand and wiped away some of the tears on their face. “Hey, it’s okay,” she said softly, “you’re safe.” Those were words she’d needed to hear every time she’d thought her mother might come barging in to Morgan’s house and try and steal her away. Or every time she thought she might fall back into that dark alleyway where she was being mauled to death by a friend. Or stalked by Frank. Or dying in a cabin. You’re safe, you’re safe. But Bex was beginning to realize that no one was ever really safe. There wasn’t safe, there was just feeling safe. Being with people who you trusted to keep you safe, to protect you. She leaned forward and wrapped her arms back around Metzli, gently this time. She wanted to be that safe person. She could be that safe person.

[DOMESTIC/EMOTIONAL ABUSE TW END]

And, besides, Eloy hadn’t technically threatened her. Only the people she loved. She’d tear him limb from limb while he was still alive, though, if he even touched any of them. That she was sure of.

Metzli zoned out again, consumed by the anxiety that was reeling through their mind. And then their hand was squeezed, and then arms surrounded them. Body went stiff and they almost lashed out until they could see Bex clearly. Safety. “Right. I don’t have to think about it…right now.” Relaxing into Bex, they let their tears fall and settled into her arms, still squeezing Milo’s hand. Having friends was not a bad thing. Connections weren’t bad. Everything Eloy had taught them was wrong. That was becoming more and more clear.

“Can we just stay here?” Metzli asked through small, choked sobs. “I just want to feel safe.”

“Ha ha, can we not?” Milo deadpanned, his eyes shining as he looked between his friends. But he soon fell silent again, a familiar sense of sobriety settling over him. He hadn’t lied to Metzli, he had been honest in the fact that Eloy’s messages weren’t something they should be thinking about while they were trying to rest and recover. Bex had outright told them no, told them Eloy hadn’t made any effort to get into contact. His stomach churned uncomfortably, but he couldn’t bring himself to take back her words. It wasn’t his place, and it would only make the situation worse. Waiting patiently as Bex brushed away Metzli’s tears, he smiled to himself. There was something so genuinely innocent about Bex holding Metzli, nothing else really came into play. Age, species, soul or no soul… he would do almost anything for these two people. He loved them unconditionally, and that was what he needed to focus on. He saw Metzli tense upon instinct, but he also saw the moment they realised they were safe, saw the moment that tension filtered from their body to be replaced by something soft, and sincere. “No, you don’t…” He assured them, making a note to tell them about Eloy’s messages when they were feeling better. “Of course we can stay here… we aren’t going anywhere.” Reaching out to carefully pack away the medical supplies, when they were safely inside their container he wrapped an arm around Metzli, and Bex, pulling them closer so that he could rest his cheek against Metzli’s shoulder. There weren’t many places he considered home, but Metzli’s apartment was very quickly becoming one of them.

Maybe, Bex thought, maybe things would all be okay. Maybe this problem would solve itself and no one else would get hurt. But she knew that wasn’t true. She didn’t say much as Milo folded into the hug with them and she settled her head against Metzli’s quiet chest. There was no heartbeat, and none from Milo either, so it was only her heart, beating slow but steady-- something it hadn’t done in a long time-- as she listened to the quiet sobs coming from her friend. She bit the inside of her cheek and held back her own. “We’ll stay,” she answered after a long moment of silence, “I’m not going anywhere.” She moved herself and shimmied onto the couch beside Metzli, kept them in her arms. “You’re safe.”

And maybe Bex didn’t quite believe that, but she could make sure Metzli did. That was really all that mattered.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #to build a home #medical blood tw #domestic abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #chatzy: milo #chatzy: metzli #metzli #milo

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years ago

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heard your name in every love song {Ben Hardy} 2

2. well that was many years ago, how would you see me now I've grown up (given up my video games)

Summary: When you’re fifteen, and your former babysitter’s on TV in one of the UK’s most successful soap operas, and is still decidedly hot, all you can remember is the advice he’d given you, and how he’d let you win when playing videogames.

A/N: 2780 words. ben’s not in this one persay, but we gotta set up y/n as this badass actress, ya know? y/n’s mother is mentioned but that’s it in terms of family. also i dub thee a theater kid. congratulations.

the mutant brotherhood: @daisy-lu @hervoidparadise @nedmjpeter @ultrunning @d-r-e-a-m-catchme @clementimee @that-fandom-sucks-tho @cjand10 @rest-is-detail @baileymae @rosesvioletshardy @onceuponadetectivedemigod @hazelstyles94 @bitchylittleredhead @bihemian-rhapsody @sweatyexpertgardenpanda @whereeverythingisbetter @dedxbed @xxencagedxx @glittrixvibe @a-girl-with-stress @sunflower-ben @pxroxide-prinxcesss @mrsmazzello @cubedtriangle @haileymorelikestupid @misscharlottelee @nevilles-insinuations @jovialcreatorkidtoad @brianmaysclog @sambuckywarrior @hey-yo-bedussey @bubblyanis @lifesciencesbois @elektraofcrete @diosanaz @bbdoyouloveme @kirstansworld @okilover02 @cardboardbenmazzello @dreashappyworld @juliarose21 @simonedk @greycuby @emmasunshiine @dinotje @qtrogerina @spiketacus @nympha-door-a @local-troubled-writer @emphatic-af @wh0a-thisisheavy @lustgardn @banginashton

When you’re fifteen, you have your first kiss on stage with a boy named Andrew; he’s a year older than you, has been in more shows than you, and has a boyfriend, Jamie, though they both seem entirely endeared by you. You buy each other flowers on opening night, after becoming fast friends in rehearsals.

It’s your first lead role on stage, though you’ve been in a few commercials in past year, and had callbacks for a bit part in two different TV shows that ended up going to someone else. Since expressing interest in pursuing acting as a career, your parents had been nothing but supportive, their only stipulation that you still need to finish high school. So between school and auditions and rehearsals, you don’t have much time for crushes; sure there’s a boy in the ensemble, who you’re pretty sure is named Ashton, with fluffy blonde hair, and eyes that look green at the right angle, but he also lives off of Monster energy drink. He may be pretty, but he’s got the personality of a damp rock.

But he’s not your first kiss, Andrew is.

“You know Ashton’s got three braincells in total, right?” Andrew’s laying on the floor of your dressing room, makeup done, costume half on, watching in the mirror as you apply your foundation, “what do you see in him?”

“Him-” you started, but Andrew groaned loudly.

“Himbos need to respect women, Y/N, Ashton is not a himbo,” though at his exasperation, you can’t help but be amused.

“He’s pretty,” is all you can manage in your own defence, wearing a sheepish little smile, and Andrew wrinkles his nose. His phone goes off and he checks the message.

“Jamie’s almost here,” he told you with a slight smile, and you two share a fond smile. Jamie comes baring iced drinks and you both praise him as your lord and saviour.

“Do you think Ashton’s cute?” Andrew asks as he’s eating the whipped cream from the top of his iced coffee.

“Is this a test?” Jamie replies, wearing the slightest frown, but Andrew shakes his head.

“Y/N thinks he’s cute, even though he’s always three beats behind -”

“Whether or not he can dance doesn’t effect how he looks!” You argued, and Andrew raised his nose in the air defiantly.

“It does to me,” but then he’s grinning, turning to gaze to Jamie, who’s deliberating and swirling his peach iced tea with a faintly fond smile.

“The blonde one playing the jock?”

“That’s him,” Andrew confirms, and Jamie hums.

“He looks like acid wash jeans.”

A confused silence follows.

“What does that mean?” You frown, but as Andrew considers it, he comes to agree, “okay, but do you think he’s cute?”

“He’s perfectly conventionally attractive,” Jamie finally settles on, “but not my type.” And he gives Andrew a coy smile, knocking their shoulders together, they’re painfully endearing, but Jamie’s brought up a thought that you hadn’t wanted to consider.

When had your type become pretty, blonde boys?

Your answer comes less than three days later, on closing night, your mother’s watching TV before she drives you to the theatre. It’s Eastenders, a soap opera you know from your mother’s fanaticism with it, aware only of it’s longevity and it’s sometimes outlandish moments.

“Y/N, come in here a moment,” you mother calls, “they’ve recast Peter.”

“You know I don’t know who that is,” you tell her with gentle exasperation, but obligingly join her in the living room.

“What was the name of your old babysitter?” You mother’s squinting at the screen, watching a pretty blonde boy you think you recognise talking to a girl who you’re pretty sure is one of the leads.

“Maddy?”

“No, the boy who helped out when Maddy wasn’t available,” and you follow your mother’s gaze to the television, heart beating in your throat as you realise why she’s asking.

“Ben -?” You say, as if you haven’t committed his name to your memory.

“Ben!” She announces with a clap, getting to her feet with enthusiasm, “doesn’t the new Peter look remarkably like him?” She asked, getting as close to the TV as possible, looking a little eerie in it’s glow.

“I think that is him,” you say, throat going dry, and your mother goes quiet.

“No,” she says softly with a frown, “you think so? Really?” And you’re already pulling out your phone and checking IMDB.

“Ben Hardy,” you confirmed with a nod, trying not to let it show how much this information had left you shaken.

“But -” your mother turns to you, “he’s Keith and Ange’s kid; Hardy? That’s not...?”

“I dunno, mum, maybe he changed his name, but I’m pretty sure it’s the same person.”

“He was always such a lovely kid,” she mused, “you used to love spending time with him,” she sighed wistfully, and you contemplate how long it would take you to just walk to the theater, which you’d much prefer to having to listen to your mother waxing poetic about how successful your first crush had become. But you decide it’s not worth it, and thankfully she doesn’t mention it much in the car.

“Andy I’m in distress,” you bemoan your costar the moment you step into hair and makeup that night. Andrew struggles not to smile as the makeup assistant is applying his contour.

“What’s wrong?” He asks after she steps back, and you spin in your chair to face him while the head of the makeup team was collecting everything she’d need for your look.

“I know why I like Ashton,” you admitted, and Andrew raised an eyebrow in silent question. The makeup assistant paused, giving a playful ‘ooh’ to the announcement. As the leads, the pair of you had been called early to make sure you were all ready for the show before the rush of ensemble members were getting into hair and makeup, so you were the only two cast members around, and felt safe discussing this so openly. The crew were old enough to know not to gossip with the cast.

“So it turns out my type is just this one dude who used to babysit me back when I was like, twelve,” you grumble, and turn back to face the mirror at the makeup artist’s insistence.

“And what made you realize this?” Andrew prompted diligently.

“Because I saw him on TV,” you sighed, closing your eyes as your makeup routine began. But there was silence all around, and someone cleared their throat awkwardly.

“Like on the news?” The makeup assistant asked tentatively.

“No, like on Eastenders,” you sighed; they weren’t quite sure if you were joking or not, “he went to my high school, graduated like two years ago.”

“Seriously?!” Andrew marveled, and you confirmed with a heavy sigh, “so why are you distressed?”

“Because I was perfectly happy forgetting about my stupid, twelve-year-old crush on him, but now he’s on my mum’s favourite soap,” and you groaned in defeat, “which I’m now probably going to get invested in; it’s like a celebrity crush but worse.” You paused, “Andy, he let me win at videogames and gave me acting advice; I still think about him sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Andrew agreed, “I don’t usually know my celebrity crushes personally,” it was clear he was both trying to be supportive, and trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

“It’s going to kill me,” you said with an air of resignation.

“What’s his name?”

“Ben Hardy,” there was a pause after your words, and the telltale noise of typing on a phone, and then Andrew made a noise of approval.

“He’s mad fit.”

“I know,” you agreed with a whine, to which your costar snorted a laugh.

“You’ll be okay, I promise,” he assured, and clicked his phone off, settling back in his chair as his hat for the show was brought over and pinned in place, “and I can see why you fancy Ashton now.”

“Ashton doesn’t hold a candle to Ben- damn you Eastenders!” You moaned, playing up your distress for the amusement of the others in the room, which you appreciated, but it’s all you said on the topic for the night, though it barely leaves your mind when you’re not on stage.

At the afterparty, you learn that Ashton kisses with too much tongue, and tastes like grape vape, but he compliments your performance in the show and in the moment, that’s all you really care about. It’s a thoroughly underwhelming experience all in all, but it also manages to feel something like a cathartic release.

You come to a realization, several days later, that you’d never thought you’d have; it’s incredibly difficult to watch Eastenders online, legally or illegally it doesn’t matter, because the legal site costs money which you don’t want to spend, and no-one’s put up the entire series illegally. You can find episodes here and there, but they are one-offs from anywhere between 2005 and now, and no-one’s got the newest episodes anyways.

There’s barely an Eastenders fandom online, a thought you’d never imagine having before now, and so you just end up watching it nightly with you mother, when you can. Except as life gets busier and you’re rehearsing for plays and musicals and eventually, shows, and eventually you’re studying for your GSCEs, and you don’t have time for a soap opera you’re only partially invested in.

You get your big break in the Summer before your A-levels when you score a part in Snowpiercer, so you spend several weeks in Prague, and you’re sharing scenes with Captain Fucking America Chris Evans, and Jamie Bell, and Octavia Spencer –

Oh, you realize faintly as you’re getting your makeup done for the day, I’m becoming someone.

You’re at a critical juncture in your life, in your career, one you’re afraid you haven’t earned your way to, especially not so fast. You have two options; step on the breaks and let someone else get the roles and the life you want, or you can commit to the bit, to the life and reputation you’re building for yourself.

Fall back or follow through.

Snowpiercer earns you the title of One to Watch, and by late 2014, you’re halfway through your final school year, you’ve studios asking you to audition left and right. In the brief Winter break between terms, you’re called in to audition for a project for Sony, but they couldn’t tell you which. You knew it was a superhero movie, but that’s all.

A month later, only a few days into 2015, you wake up to three missed calls from your agent, thousands of Twitter notifications, approximately twenty texts from your friends. Downstairs, your mother was making breakfast and humming along to the radio, which she only did when she was in a fantastic mood.

It takes all your self control to not look at social media, and instead call your agent back.

He’s got two words for you.

“X-Men Apocalypse.”

You scream.

Next, of course, comes Twitter, which is a mix of supportive and unsurprisingly derisive. Your casting is polarizing, mainly because you haven’t been in a lot of films, and a majority of your work had been in theater; you look the part, but people are skeptical of your talent.

Speaking of the part, you’ll be playing Cassidy Temple, also known as Riot Control, who it turns out is a villain. Not the main villain, they’ve got Oscar Isaac playing Apocalypse himself, and holy shit, you’re going to be working with Oscar Isaac, but apparently you’re the second of the Horsemen to be announced.

Riot Control was a villain from an arc of the same name back in the late 90s, though she’d appeared earlier in Apocalypse’s first comic arc under the name Crowd Control, most notable for being the original Pestilence Horseman, who had a relationship with Archangel, the then-Horseman of Death. After Apocalypse’s death, she retained the power he’d imbued her with, and went on to be the first mutant to fuse with a symbiote, Riot, which is how she’d earned the name Riot Control, and ended up killing Havok; it took the whole X-Men team to take her down, and only then thanks to Jean Grey.

You’d never considered yourself playing a villain, but you couldn’t help but be a little thrilled at the prospect. Looking at images of Cassidy, you can’t help but be a little shocked as to how much she looked like you, right down to the shape of her eyes; the resemblance was uncanny.

At least ten of the twenty texts you’d received from your friends were from Jamie and Andrew, cheering for you and already planning a party. A few friends from school were asking if the announcement was really about you, followed by a ton of excited emojis, and Merissa had left the sweetest voice message, telling you how proud she was of you.

This was big. This was talking with your mother about dropping out of school right before your A-levels, this was talking with Sony about hiring a tutor so you could finish your schooling on-set, this was updating your passport and visa and realizing you’re not just a little kid, playing pretend on stage anymore.

Over the next few days, you’re in meetings with your agent and executives from Sony and Marvel, signing contracts, and attending the kind of blow out party Jamie and Andrew had planned.

“Don’t forget us when you’re all famous,” Jamie, a little tipsy and sentimental, clings to you in the early hours of the morning during the party as it’s winding down, and you’re both half-watching X-Men Origins: Wolverine in the living room of his and Andrew’s little flat.

“I won’t,” you assure him, hugging him tightly back, “I promise.” And he makes a hum of contentment, before announcing that the movie was stupid. It was, but you kind of liked it.

“Jam, don’t hog her!” Merissa announced from the door, and Jamie stuck his tongue out at her; it was a small blessing that your friends from your varying friend groups had managed to get along so well. Merissa crowded you from the other side, squeezing beside you on the sofa and leaning against you, her nose against your cheek.

“I’m gonna miss you guys,” you say into the warm silence of the early hours, and Merissa kisses your cheek in an unspoken ‘we’re gonna miss you too’.

“Nah,” Jamie mused, “you’ll be off partying with your cool famous costar friends –“

“You gotta tell me what it’s like to hang out with Sansa Stark!” Merissa enthused, and your heart leapt into your throat.

“What?”

“Yeah,” Jamie said, as if it were common knowledge, “they announced Sophie Turner was going to be playing a young Phoenix right around the time they announced you,” he paused, frowning, “did you not –“

“I read it, but I never… I didn’t put two and two together.” You admitted, and the news has you reeling.

A few moments later, Andrew comes in from the kitchen to remind Jamie that he has work in the morning, and Jamie tells him that he’ll only go to bed if Andrew takes his place hugging you until the movie’s over. Andrew’s smile widens.

“I think I can manage that,” he agrees, and Jamie stands with a yawn, giving Andrew a kiss before instructing him to not let go. You settle in between Andrew and Merissa, and once the movie’s over, Merissa’s asleep on your shoulder, and Andrew murmurs that he can drive you home if you want. The sun’s almost coming up.

“Can you put on Days of Future Past again?” You ask quietly, sheepish and hopeful in equal measure, and Andrew agrees, and gets you a glass of water, and a blanket. When prompted, Merissa wakes enough so that she can shift on the surprisingly spacious sofa, happy enough to cuddle against you when Andrew tucks the blanket around you both.

“Can’t wait until I’m putting on your DVD –“

“I gave you a copy of Snowpiercer,” you told him, and his expression goes soft.

“True,” he agrees, “but I’ve got a good feeling about this next one,” and you think you know what he means. This is big.

“You’re gonna do great, Y/N, you always do.”

Just over a month later, after your contract had been finalized and you were sent the most up-to-date version of the script, you awoke again to a ton of Twitter notifications, and a single text from Andrew.

The text simply read [👀👀👀] and had a link to a Variety article entitled ‘Ben Hardy joins the cast of Apocalypse’.

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fanfic #queen #borhap #borhap cast #borhap cast imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody cast #bohemian rhapsody cast imagine #xmen apocalypse #xma #the angry lizard writes

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thegayfromrulid · 4 years ago

Note

How about a Yujikiri oneshot where they're in the real world, Eugeo misses snow and since they can't just make it snow, Kirito gets some really rare item in Alfheim that makes it snow wherever they are and uses that for a VR date with him.

Hello, anon! This was such a cute prompt! <3 I really enjoyed writing this. I had a lot of fun brainstorming the rare item for this, as well as imagining these two cute boys having fun in the snow!

“Does it ever snow in Saitama?”

The question seemed a bit out of nowhere to me, as I finished loading the dishwasher and hadn’t been talking about climate with Eugeo prior to this moment. I looked up from what I was doing and saw him gazing out of the window, looking around at the world. It was still summer, even after spending an incredibly long time inside of the STL as a member of the Underworld. I wiped off my hands and went to stand over beside him, giving him a grin.

“Yeah, sometimes,” I said. “Usually in the winter we’ll get some decent flakes. Why?”

There was a sad look on his face, one that made me start to think. He was eager to see snow again. Eugeo had lived in Rulid, which was at the northernmost tip of Norlangarth. He’d lived at the foot of mountains, which meant that he was used to colder winters. Since he’d left that village, he’d not seen as much snow in the warmer capital city. It had been, in a sense, ages since he’d seen snow.

Eugeo brushed it off, though, acting as if he wasn’t missing seeing it. I shouldn’t have expected anything less. Eugeo was the sort of person who never talked about the things troubling his heart. I would just have to do something about this. I told him it might not be as long as he thought before he saw snow again, to which he laughed and told me there was no such thing as a cryogenic art in the real world. I just laughed and saw him off, eager to get a plan in motion.

I did a bit of online searching with the help of Suguha. As it would turn out, there was a very rare item in ALO that had the power to make it snow anywhere in the world. It was a stone, a mate to similar stones with different weather properties: summoning rain, clearing the skies for a sunny day, summoning a tornado or a hurricane or a tsunami. These stones were meant to give certain fairy races advantages and disadvantages in a PvP fight. I figured they would work just as well for a little date-time surprise.

The entire group agreed to help out with the mission to recover the ‹‹ Snær Stone ››, so-called for the runes that decorated its surface. They spelled out the word “snær,” an Old Norse name for snow, Suguha told me. In order to earn the stone, we had to complete a rather difficult quest in an area of ALO called Niflheim called “The Hunt of Ullr.” In the quest, the patron saint of skiers, Ullr, offers players sets of skis and asks them to hunt down wolf-type monsters to protect the local NPC population. As a reward for the quest, each player would receive money, special snow resistant gear, the skis themselves, and, to the player with the most kills, the ‹‹ Snær Stone ››.

Alice offered to keep Eugeo busy and offline for the duration of the quest, giving the rest of the group time to head out to the Niflheim area and complete the quest. It proved to be particularly tricky, as expected, as the act of skiing wasn’t as easily picked up as was sword fighting with the assist system. Much like riding horses or driving vehicles, this action in VR required some real-world practice��of which, to my surprise, Klein had the most. We spent a fair amount of time learning how to ski, and once we sort of had that down, the best player wound up being Sinon, whose bow gave her a serious advantage over the rest of us when hunting down the wolves. The gang agreed to let me have the last attack on each monster, though, so that I would end up with the stone.

The stone felt well-earned by the time Ullr was placing it in my hands. I wanted to fall over from fatigue, but I was reminded that this was only the first step of the plan. I had to exit the dive, meet up with Eugeo, and then convince him to come back to the log cabin with me for a special snowy date. I stayed behind with Asuna, staring at the stone in my palm as I thought.

“Do you think this will really be enough for him?” I asked her.

She gave me that knowing best friend smile, and then she reached over to me and closed my fingers around the stone. Our eyes met, and she smiled at me, nodding.

“He loves you, Kirito,” she said. “Don’t panic. He’s going to be very happy that you put in this much effort for him.”

I felt my confidence increase just a bit. Asuna always knew what to say.

“Now, go give your boyfriend a present he won’t forget!” she told me.

In a flash, she was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts. She was right. Eugeo knew that there was no magic in Japan. He would never fault me for using ALO as the date location for snow because of that. There was nothing for me to worry about. Nodding to myself, I quickly slipped the stone into my inventory and logged out to go and text Eugeo.

He agreed to meet up with me at a game shop close to my house. I told him to bring along his Amusphere so that we could get in some gaming time together. He went along with it. I think playing ALO reminded him of how we met. The fantasy world, even though it wasn’t at all the same as the one he’d been raised in, made more sense to him than my home world did. We checked out a few new titles at the store and then headed back to my place. I urged him to dive from my bed next to me.

“If you insist,” he said. “But there’s more room if one of us takes the couch.”

I laughed and shook my head.

“We’ll be diving,” I said. “Do we really need that much extra room?”

He just smiled at me and shook his head. He knew just as well as I did that it was an excuse to lay beside him. We climbed onto the bed, laying side-by-side, and slipped on our Amuspheres to dive into the log cabin. We shouted the log on command in unison, and seconds later, we were standing in the living area, right where we’d logged out. I smiled across the room at the blue-eyed Undine boy. I hurried over to him and grasped his hand. Eugeo let out a slight yelp and then a laugh as I tugged him along after me into the forest.

“Where are we going, Kirito?” he asked, smiling over at me.

I picked a spot in the woods that had a little bit of a clearing, and I stopped to remove the stone from my inventory. I’d read over the item’s instructions for how to use it. I recited a spell that had been given to me in those instructions, making sure to pronounce everything carefully as I spoke. I turned back to Eugeo, who had a quizzical look on his face, and I waited. I slipped the stone into my pocket and reached one hand out to him. He took it, still confused, and he smiled at me.

“What kind of a spell was that?” he asked.

I pointed my other hand up. He slipped his fingers into my hand as his eyes followed my gesture. I watched his eyes start to sparkle as he realized what was happening. Gentle snowflakes started to fall around us, landing on the ground, the trees, and our avatars. Luckily for me, this particular spell caused an area effect that would turn this place into a wintry landscape. The ground started to turn white with packed snow, and the trees held just enough to look like an old-fashioned Christmas card. Eugeo started laughing and put out his hand to catch a few of the snowflakes.

“How did you do that, Kirito?” he asked.

Pulling the stone out of my pocket, I opened his palm and set it down in his hand.

“With this, we can see snow anytime we like,” I said.

Eugeo clutched the stone in his palm and then threw his arms around me, tackling me with a hug. We fell down into the freshly fallen snow, sending up a powdery spray as we landed. The both of us laughed, now covered with icy crystals. Eugeo leaned forward and slipped his lips into mine, stealing a warm kiss amidst the cold now swirling gently around us. I cupped his face in my hands, feeling his cold cheeks start to fill with warmth.

His eyes opened a little as he pulled away from the kiss. Our noses were barely touching. The snow falling around his face made him look less like a fairy and more like an angel. Some of it stuck to his hair, and the sunlight hit those crystals, making them sparkle. I smiled. He looked so handsome in the snow. It had been so long since I’d seen him smiling the way he’d smiled at me back in the Underworld.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I missed this so much.”

I chuckled.

“I’m glad you like the snow,” I said.

Eugeo shook his head.

“No, not just the snow,” he said. “I missed us just enjoying the simple things in life together.”

I pulled him in for another kiss.

“Me, too,” I admitted.

I rolled us over in the snow and hopped up to my feet.

“Now,” I said. “Are we going to enjoy this weather, or are we just going to sit and kiss in the snow?”

Before Eugeo could respond, I was already tossing a bit of snow at him. He laughed like a child and jumped up to start throwing it back at me. We frolicked around in the snow, tossing it at one another, rolling around in it, and building little snowmen, completely lost in a little corner of winter that we’d made for ourselves. When we’d tired ourselves out, we went back into the cabin to log out, and we curled up against one another, gently dozing off as we warmed one another up from the virtual chill.

A glimpse of Eugeo’s face before I fell asleep told me everything I needed to know. He was smiling brightly. I cuddled up to him, grateful that this VR snow day had brought him such a happy smile.

#sword art online #sao fanfic #Fanfic Request #one shot #sao #sao alicization #yujikiri #kiriyuji #eugeo #kirito #eugeo x kirito #kirito x eugeo #ask #ask me anything #anon

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blepskies · 5 years ago

Text

The Negotiator (Barry Allen)

“Are you going to just stand there?” Twelfth grade Y/n asked. Getting dumped by a popular kid made you want some comfort. Usually, that came from your best friend, who you secretly had a crush on. As Barry sat down next to you, bringing you into his side, his phone started ringing. Of course, you knew who it was, Iris. You never disliked Iris, but you knew how much Barry was infatuated with her, and that made balls of jealousy worm their way into you.

“Y/n/n, I have to get this really quick, it’s Iris.” Already standing up, Barry went out of the room that she was in and closed the door. You could hear Barry’s worried voice, you knew he was about to leave you. Knowing that Barry was about to come back any second, you accepted your defeat. Iris needed him, and he would talk to you later. You knew that you were Barry's second choice, and that thought made you sad.

“Hey Y/n, I know this is sucky timing, but Iris needs me.” Barry’s worried voice made you look up.

“What could be so important? I really need you right now Bare,” You were thinking that he was going to change his mind and stay with you.

“She didn’t say over the phone, but I know that she needs me more.”

“I need you Bare,” Looking at the floor, you didn’t want to show him how much he affected you by leaving.

“I’ll be back later Y/n, you’re strong, you can live without me for the afternoon.”

“Bye Barry,” You never used his name, always a nickname.

You looked up just in time to see Barry close the door and hear his footsteps slowly get farther and farther away. When you knew he was gone, you started crying.

You remember Barry coming back to your house the next day, as promised. When he apologized, you asked what Iris desperately needed him for. You could remember his face, it was filled with guilt, as he said, “She spilled coffee on her homework, and needed help saving it from smearing.”

“Wow! That is really important Barry! You should get an award for always tending to Iris' needs," Your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I am glad that you went to go tend to her needs. When I just got my heart broken, by a total douche, I had no one! I think that you should go, I need to cool down.”

“Y/n, don’t kick me out, I’m sorry! What else do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say that you will be there for me, like you always are with Iris. Like I’m with you. I know that you don’t feel the same way though. That's actually the problem! I really like you Barry, more than best friends, and I know you don’t feel the same way because you love Iris, and I respect that. I just need some space to think.”

Barry had the most shocked face I have ever seen. His jaw was moving up and down like he wanted to say something, but he just looked like a fish out of water. You gently pushed his shoulders until he was out of your bedroom door. Closing and locking the door was difficult, at the time you knew you were losing your best friend.

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

That was the day you finally learned how to be independent, no longer relying on Barry. You branched out and you made other friends at school and when the time came to go to college, you went to your dream school.

After four long years college ended and you just moved back to Central City. Most of your family is there and you wanted to stay close to them.

Moving some boxes into your semi empty flat, you decided to take a break and get some coffee. Looking online for a while, you found a cute coffee shop named Jitters that had high ratings. After deciding to walk for fifteen minutes instead of taking the car, you put on your shoes and headed out.

It was a nice day so the walk went by faster compared to a cold day. Stepping into Jitters, you took a look around the place and noticed a lot of people were there. Getting into line, you decided to do some people watching while you waited.

It became your turn and while you were ordering, you heard, “Get on the ground and nobody will get hurt!”

Laying down on my stomach you kept an eye on the guy. It was just him and a handgun and he was frantic. You went to college to be a police negotiator, this could be practice. Slowly getting to a crouch, you raised your hands in the air. Not wanting to startle the guy into any rash decisions, I decided on a nice, “Hey there.”

“What are you doing, get on the ground!”

“Hey, my name is Y/n and I didn’t want to startle you. Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything. I just need the money that’s why.”

“I’m pretty sure I can help you, you just have to lower your gun.”

As the guy started to lower his gun, a red streak came out of nowhere and the robber took your arm and held you in a headlock. The red streak came to a halt eight feet in front of us.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, why did this happen?” The robber said.

“Just release me and then I can help you get out of this mess.” Right as you said this, he pushed you out of his reach and held the gun at you and shot. You felt a tingling sensation in your arm and you looked down. Your shirt was soaking up the blood, but that didn’t matter at the time.

You had read up on the flash before you came to Central City, and apparently he was the fastest man alive. “Aren’t you supposed to go after him or something?” you asked annoyed.

He didn’t answer, he just looked at your face. “Flash! Go after him!”

The flash went after him and a minute or less later he came back to see you passed out on the ground. He hefted you up into his arms so he was carrying you bridal style and ran you to STAR Labs.

-------------------- BARRY'S POV

After calling Caitlin to help her shoulder, he changed into normal clothes so when Y/n woke up, she didn’t know he was the flash. Caitlin took some time taking the bullet out and stitching her wound up.

“She should wake up soon, she just passed out. I think she might have vasovagal syncope,” Caitlin said after a while.

“She does.” Barry told Caitlin as she looked up from Y/n and stared at Barry.

“We went to school together and we used to be best friends,” Barry answered her unasked question.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Caitlin said while exiting the lab.

Barry didn’t want to be a creep and stare or anything, but it was hard because he hadn’t seen you in so long. When he was pushed out of your bedroom, he never got to say how he truly felt about the girl in front of him.

When he tried to tell you the next day, you were ignoring him because he couldn’t find you anywhere. Barry didn’t have any classes with you so it was hard to talk to her during school hours.

Barry heard a groaning noise coming from the bed. Y/n was awake.

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

Y/n’s POV

“What in the name of hell,” you asked, blinking your eyes open and feeling pain run through your shoulder as you tried to hoist yourself up.

“Easy there, Y/n, you were shot.”

“Barry? What are you doing here? Where are we?”

“Y/n, we are at star labs, one of my friends brought you here after what happened at Jitters.

“You are friends with the flash? Next time you see him tell him I had it covered and that I specialize in negotiating.” You had a scowl on your face because you knew that if the flash never came into Jitters, you wouldn’t have been shot.

“I will be sure to tell him.” Barry had a grin on his face due to the fact that you guys were talking and you didn’t know his secret persona.

After you got rid of the initial shock of being shot and Barry showing up out of nowhere. You could slowly feel the room fill with awkwardness.

“So how are you doing Y/N? What have you been up to? When did you move back to Central City?

“Uhm, I’m okay. I finished college as a police negotiator and I got here a couple days ago. Well, I better be going now, it was good to see you Barry. Tell flash I said thanks for ‘saving’ me.”

“Wait! Before you go, would you like to go get coffee or something later?” “Bar-”

“Please just listen to me. When you pushed me out of your room that day, you never got to hear how I really felt. I didn’t know it at the time, but when I got home, I realized what I felt for Iris was just like sibling love. It was not a romantic type of love. I realized that I had feelings for you Y/n.”

“Why didn’t you tell me the next day Barry?”

“I tried to, I did! You were ignoring me, remember?” You felt bad and you regretted ignoring him for the rest of the school year. If only you didn’t, you started to wonder if things would have been different. You decided to do something risky by asking, “I will negotiate with you, we can go get coffee or something, as long as it's a date.”

“I think I can make that happen.” Barry said as he leaned down to hug you, careful not to hurt you. “You make a good negotiator.”

#barry allen imagine #barry allen oneshot #barry allen imagines #barry allen #barry x reader #the flash #the flash imagine #the flash oneshot #the flash imagines #grant gustin imagine #grant gustin #grant gustin imagines

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punkpoemprose · 4 years ago

Text

December 6th- Fuck 2020

Universe: Modern AU Rating: M (Mature, a little explicit, this is porn without plot for the most part) Length: 4383 Words A/N: The title says it all. This fic is about Kristoff and Anna having sex on New Years Eve. TW: Mentions of COVID-19, quarantine, and generally the shittyness of this year. This is the last of my decades AUs. Hopefully someday someone will write something more flattering for the 2020′s.

Anna closed her laptop and collapsed back onto the couch. She was exhausted mentally and emotionally, but her body wasn’t tired enough to let her sleep. It had been what she’d been suffering with all year, or at least since March when the world had gone from its usual level of chaos to being utter and total bedlam. She still remembered the day she’d learned that her kids wouldn’t be coming back to the classroom, and the only slightly more terrifying day where she learned that they would, in fact be coming back.

Her head was still awash with words she’d never thought she’d need to say to a room full of five-year-olds. We have to keep our masks on. Remember, six feet apart guys, that’s like two big dogs in a line. No, I’m sorry, I can’t give you a hug. She’d had to separate desks, and clean and not wipe away little tears like she normally would when a child was having a bad day.

The kids, she thought, had held up better than she had. They’d listened as well as they could, they’d followed the rules as much as they were able, and they were kind about the policies in a way that even grown adults were not. But even with all the work they’d done, even with all the kids doing their best, the second wave had hit, and now they wouldn’t be returning to school until after the middle of January, and then when it finally came about, it would be online. There was talk of vaccines in the news, and while it gave her some small spark of hope, all the changes have meant turning her holiday break into lots of online classroom prep.

It still wasn’t the worst though, she’d rather be tired than sick, and she couldn’t help but relax a bit and listen to the shower running in the next room over.

Kristoff had been given the afternoon shift for New Year’s Eve, and as per their new normal, he’d stripped down at the door after returning to their apartment, tossed all his things into the wash, and was currently showering. In the beginning, before they’d known just how bad things were, before PPE was supplied to every EMT in the county, he’d caught it.

Anna had remembered the pain of having to see him so ill, watching him suffer through what was determined to be a “mild” case of the virus while he was sequestered to their bedroom and she spent the week sleeping on the couch and barely seeing him at all except to occasionally bring him something to eat when he’d felt particularly weak. There was something particularly terrifying in watching the strongest person Anna knew, her rock, her one and only, barely able to take care of himself. He’d insisted the whole time, vehemently, that she leave to stay with her sister on the other side of town, be she’d been unable to bring herself to do it. She couldn’t and wouldn’t leave him alone when he was so sick she wasn’t sure if he’d make it through.

But, of course, he had. His voice had been strange and unlike him for weeks after he was cleared, and Anna had spent many nights in a cold sweat thinking about just how close he’d been to being in much worse shape. They’d started their procedure then, come in the door, take off your clothes, wash anything that went into work with you, and then shower. She’d done it too, but to less of an extreme because while she’d been around kids who had potentially been sick, he spent every day with Sven facing the positively ill together and trying their best to keep them well enough to get to the hospital.

The mental strain it was putting on them, Anna having to worry everyday about him getting sick again, or one of her students or even herself catching it was a lot. But Kristoff, kind and wonderful man that he was, kept checking in at the hospital to learn whether the transports he and Sven had brought in had made it. She saw the darkness in his eye, behind his attempts at levity, on the days where they lost someone.

The water shut off, and Anna let herself imagine him behind the door, stepping out of the shower, putting his towel on, walking over to the mirror to shave and comb his wet hair. He’d started keeping it shorter than usual as a precaution, and while he always looked handsome, Anna missed the days where she’d been able to put short braids into his hair and then comb them out with her fingers. She missed the days where he’d come home, flop onto the couch and that would be the end of things until one of them made dinner.

“Hey,” he said, as she heard the bathroom door open and shut, “Are you asleep or?”

She opened her eyes and tipped her head, looking at him from across the room. He was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, nothing fancy because of course, despite it being New Year’s Eve, they weren’t going out anywhere. She was dressed similarly, but overtop her plain shirt, she’d thrown on her nicest cardigan, creating the illusion for the videos she’d pre-recorded, that she wasn’t on her couch in her pajamas, but instead was dressed in full teacher gear and was to be listen to closely.

“I don’t think I can do an early bedtime tonight,” she said, “Or even a nap. I have to be awake to see this year end.”

He laughed, but it wasn’t so much the sort of laugh he did when he thought she was being funny. It was much more of a chuckle, as if he were going to follow it with an expression of agreement. They both were rather done with the year, just like everyone else they knew. No one wanted to be living through a pandemic.

“Just imagine,” he said, “Maybe next year we’ll actually be able to go on a date or something.”

“Or,” Anna replied sadly, “Actually be able to reschedule our wedding.”

They’d planned a June wedding the year before. It was going to be a small affair. Just his family, Elsa, and some friends from work. They were going to have it at a ski-lodge in the mountains that also doubled as a summertime spa and nature retreat so that it would be like a vacation for everyone who attended. She could still imagine the way that they’d wanted to decorate the place, all sunflowers and mason jars and white ribbons. She had bought a dress and everything, and it was still stored in her sister’s bedroom closet.

They’d pushed it to August, but had given up on it past that, knowing as soon as September hit and she returned to school with in person students, that nothing would be changing anytime soon. Even her hope for the next year was a tentative thing, like a butterfly with a broken wing trying its damnedest to fly.

“Fuck 2020,” she said quietly, noticing the way he frowned at the mention of their cancelled wedding. He’d been looking forward to it as well, and she knew that this year had been just as upsetting for him as it had been for her. She tried not to swear very often, particularly because she was worried about being able to censor herself around the kids, but ultimately, the year deserved a middle finger and some very strong language.

He crossed the space and took her laptop from where it rested on her stomach, placing it carefully on the coffee table before he scooped her too, up and off the couch. He never had much trouble lifting her, but each time he did so unexpectedly, she was half afraid of falling. She flailed for a half a second in his arms, gasping at the change in height as it occurred.

“I’d like that,” he said with a grin, “The wedding. I know it’s just a formality, and that we’ve agreed not to do it at a courthouse or anything, but I’m so ready to call you Mrs. Bjorgman.”

“And have my students confused?” she teased, “Maybe you should be Mr. Arendelle.”

He laughed at that, but the shrugged and started walking in the direction of their bedroom, holding her bridal style as if it were already all over and done with.

“Why are we heading to bed?” she asked, only allowing herself a little hopefulness beyond her confusion. She knew why she’d like to be heading to bed, but maybe, she reasoned, he was just tired and wanted some company for a nap.

“You said, ‘fuck 2020’.”

She could see the cheeky smile on his face as he glanced down at her, still heading toward the bedroom, like a man on a mission.

“It sounded like a good idea to me.”

***

“So,” Anna said from her place below him on their bed, “In this analogy am I 2020 or?”

Kristoff laughed, and she was treated with a kiss on her knuckles as she obediently raised her arms up for him to remove her shirt. His laugh was one of the things that got her through the day, knowing that he could find humor in any situation, that she could make him laugh, was a blessing. It made things feel normal, and it was a joy for them both that they sorely needed.

“No. It’s more like we fuck each other, and we get a little extra enjoyment out of the year ending. Honestly, I didn’t think it through very much, I just wanted you and it seemed like a good excuse.”

That made her laugh, and she nodded appreciatively at the sentiment. She didn’t think that they needed to really contemplate it much as she was just happy with the opportunity to enjoy her fiancé for a little while.

“It’s a good way to pass the time until midnight,” she offered once she was free of her shirt, “I’m sure we’ll manage to keep each other awake.”

Her hands went up his shirt in return, letting her fingers travel over his the soft but muscled planes of his torso until he too removed his shirt, giving her better access to touch him as she leaned up to allow him to undo her bra’s clasps.

“It’s what? Seven?” He asked, tossing her bra in a rapidly growing pile of their clothes, “I can’t promise five hours straight, but I’ll do my best.”

His hands went up her sides, his thumbs rubbing appreciatively at the dips of her waist and across her ribs until they came up to he breasts. He cupped them gently first, and her hands moved to tracing up and down in spine in return as they found a comfortable position where she was somewhat seated in his lap, facing him. He pinched a nipple and she treated him to an appreciative moan and dragged her nails, lightly down his back.

They hadn’t had much time for intimacy as of late. Between what they both experienced at work and the stress of the holidays, even from a socially distanced standpoint, they’d mostly been using their bed for sleeping. It felt good for it to be put to better use.

“Of course, we’ll need to take a break for dinner. Maybe you’ll need a second shower with some company. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

The appreciative almost growl he made as he ducked his head down to her neck went straight through her spine and made her want to peel the rest of their clothes off and get down to business immediately. Shared shower or not, she already knew that she’d need to change her panties. If, of course, he was planning on letting her put any on before the next morning.

He squeezed and kneaded her breasts while his lips kissed down her neck and she allowed herself to surrender to his touch. Everything around her was Kristoff, his hands and mouth on her, the smell of his shampoo all she could smell as she tilted her neck to give him better access and shifted a hand up to his still wet hair. Despite him being fresh from the shower and in the cooler air of their bedroom, he was hot to the touch, exactly what she wanted as her hair stood on end from the temperature and his touch.

He moved lower then, his head ducking down to lave attention on her nipples as one arm wrapped around her back to support her leaning away and the other moved down, down, across her lower stomach and to the place where her waistband still sat.

“Off?” she asked, the word all she could form as she gave herself over to the sensation of his mouth sucking and nipping at her.

“Not yet,” he replied, barely moving his mouth from her as he answered and switched sides, leaving her wet nipple to pebble against the cold.

His fingers slid a bit lower still, under the waistband of her pants, but not into her underwear as he dipped her even lower.

His arm was strong at her back, keeping her aloft and exactly where he wanted her, even as she squirmed and bucked her hips against the hand that was moving closer and closer to her clit. She knew exactly what he was doing, but it didn’t keep her from jumping when his fingers grazed her through the fabric. He knew that she was sensitive, that he needed to work her up to his direct touch, let alone anything more. They’d had their fair share of quickies of course, but when he wanted things to last, when he wanted to see her come again and again, he worked her up first.

Anna moaned, and arched in his arms, not so much from the sensation, but from the promise it offered. He really was going to try to make this last all night long.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I ask myself the same question.”

She gasped as he slowly stroked his fingers up and down her, no doubt feeling how wet she was through her panties but not commenting on it. Instead, using his mouth to once again kiss down her body, moving from the valley between her breasts lower and lower, tipping her back onto the bed as he went.

Not to be outdone, Anna reached up to him as she was leaned back, letting her hands travel down and over his back, reaching for his rear and giving it a squeeze. He laughed against her skin, and she felt rather satisfied by the sound as he picked up the pace on her clit and kissed her navel. Her hands slipped forward then, moving across the waistline of his sweatpants, and dipping her fingers below them as he had.

It was a bit of an awkward angle, but she did her best to wrap her hand around him. It was a challenge, but it was worthwhile to hear his breathing quicken when she managed to slide her hand up and down over his already hard cock through the fabric of his boxers. She recalled the first time they had done this, what felt like many years before, but was just a little over a year and a half ago. She remembered touching him for the first time and being scared that she wouldn’t be able to take him. The thought would have made her laugh now, if it weren’t for the fact that his attention on her clit was making her gasp instead.

When his lips had kissed as low as possible in their current position, he sat up a bit and slipped his hand from her pants. He offered her a questioning look, as he always did, and Anna stroked him again in response, sliding her hand up and down his length and rotating her wrist a bit as she did so, knowing that it was what he liked.

“Off?”

“Off,” she replied, finalizing the unspoken agreement in words before adding, “You too.”

He nodded and she rubbed her thumb against his head before she too extracted her hand, giving him a small taste of what was to come. She fully intended to take him into her mouth if he would let her. It had been too long since she’d seen him fall apart like that, staring down at her with dark eyes and strong muscles trembling under the weight of his climax.

Maybe, she thought, she might even do it while he was laying down, so she could feel him under her and enjoy the building of tension in his body that always came before the release that left him panting and melting beneath her. She loved that he let her give him pleasure. There was so much he did everyday for her, all the care to not get her ill, the many nights he cooked dinner after a long shift, how he always listened to her stresses before offering up his own, and she liked to return his kindnesses in the bedroom.

He pushed himself up and off of her, pulling his pants down with one hand, using the other in a delightful display of his strength to hold himself aloft. He kicked them off a bit creatively, one leg at a time as if he were doing some kind of strange yoga, but never removing his eyes from her as he watched her buck her hips up and slide her own bottoms off.

He tossed them both somewhere to join their pile, and they were left, staring into each other’s eyes wearing nothing but their underwear.

She shivered a bit, both from the intensity if his gaze and the cool air around her. He noticed, his gaze softening as he lowered himself to her a bit and pressed a kiss to her lips. She responded by tipping her head up a bit, deepening the kiss as her arms raised up to wrap around his back and pull him down onto her.

“I’ll have to see if I can warm you up,” he said, their temperature differences more evident as his chest pressed into hers.

He was making a valiant effort, despite her pulling him down, to not crush her under his weight. There had been occasions where he’d allowed his whole weight to press down onto her, and while she didn’t exactly consider him light by any instance of the word, he wasn’t ever going to crush her quite so much as he made an excellent weighted blanket when he wanted to be.

His tone was lascivious though. There was no doubt in Anna’s mind as his hips rocked gently into hers that his plan for warming her up included more of the touching he’d just been doing moments before. When he kissed her again and let his lips trail, once more down her body, lower and lower, she knew that there would be nothing so simple as a blanket in his plans to warm her.

When he reached the waistband of her panties he didn’t stop, instead mouthing at her through the fabric, causing her to call his name and tangle her fingers into his hair. She felt his breath on her, hot, the inhalations and exhalations adding to the sensation as his lips nipped carefully at her clit. He slid down after a few moments, pressing kisses to her labia and center through the fabric, nudging her bud with his nose.

He could be devious with his mouth, a fact that she took immense pleasure in. He could kiss her mouth and pussy with equal skill, and she knew it came from a combination of natural talent, and plenty of practice with her and only her. His mouth could bring her to heights she’d never been able to reach alone, and the anticipation of him doing so had her trembling.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, glancing up at her from between her legs, seeking permission as he always did.

“Yes. Always.”

It was all he needed, flashing her a smile as he hooked his thumb under her waistband and pulled.

She lifted her hips obediently and was rewarded with an appreciative squeeze on her rear as he tugged the fabric off her. When it got to her knees, he leaned back and she set her bottom back onto her bed, watching him whip the fabric off her legs and onto the floor.

She would not be looking for them, she decided ultimately, until laundry day.

He spread her legs a bit more and rearranged them both on the bed until she had two pillows under her rear, elevating her, and he was half kneeling before her.

Once the matter of fabric and positioning was settled, he set upon her like a man starved. Evidently the foreplay had been enough for him, and she already felt it was enough for her, when he kissed her clit again, and then set to running his tongue over her. He went from the bottom of her slit, tasting her and groaning in appreciation, up to her clit, his tongue teasing at her before flattening against her, moving down, and repeating the process.

Her hands, desperate to show him the same appreciation he was showering her with, reached out as far as they could to rub just her fingertips, less artfully, but no less effectively, against the bulge straining against his boxers. His groans only added to the sensation as he tasted her, the rumbling of it tangible as he licked and took her into his mouth. The sound mingled in the air with her own moans, and soon, she stopped being able to tell who was making which sounds.

His tongue darted between her folds and she rocked her hips into his mouth. He rocked just far enough back that she could no longer touch him, and as such, her hands held onto him in other ways, one hand wandering across his shoulders while the other tugged at his hair.

He added his fingers to the business after a short while, taking only a moment away from her to watch her face as he slipped his fingers along her entrance, coating them in her before he, with trained dexterity, slid them inside her and began the search for the place on her inner walls he knew set her closest to the edge.

He got a satisfied look on his face when her moans grew louder, when she pleaded with him and thanked him for the new sensation, and it was a grin that she saw last before his face descended, again, to mouth at her clit with new fervor.

It was only a matter of time before she fell back against the bed, pillows falling from under her rear as she went stiff, then limp, under the force of her orgasm.

She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her.

***

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Anna had been somewhat surprised that they made it to midnight, both of them thoroughly spent with the amount of time and energy they’d put into their private celebration. She wasn’t counting down with the people on the television though, she couldn’t even see them as she knelt before the couch, feeling Kristoff’s tensed legs at either side of her. She couldn’t count anyway, she had her mouth full.

She’d wanted to manage to get him to come right at midnight, thinking about how funny and gratifying it would be to ensure that her fiancé, the man she loved most in the world, started the new year out right. She supposed though, as she bobbed her head up and down, her tongue running up and down his length as she breathed through her nose, that he wouldn’t mind if it was just a minute or so late.

“Anna,” he groaned, his hand on the back of her head, not pushing but encouraging her to maintain her speed, “Baby I think I’m going to…”

She hummed, keeping up her speed, flattening her tongue against him and doing her damnedest to give him the same pleasure he’d given her earlier in the day. They’d done plenty in the hours between, but this was the first time for the day, and now for the new year that she’d pleasured him with her mouth.

She hoped that the sounds she was making were encouraging as his hips rocked almost imperceptibly, his hand that rested on her shoulder tightening as the one in her hair pressed a little more than it had been.

When he came for her, she could feel the shuddering of his muscles, particularly his thighs which she was using for support, even under the fabric of his clothes. They’d only recently finally donned clothes again for the first time since dinner, and she had decidedly not let it stop her, particularly when it was easy enough to shift the fabric down enough to suit her needs.

“Anna,” he repeated, panting as she too came up for air, swallowing him.

She could feel herself flush, and saw the blush mirrored on his cheeks. He was frazzled, and when she leaned up, using his thighs for support, to get a better look at his expression, she was surprised by his dipping down to kiss her lips.

“Happy New Year Anna,” he whispered, hands already moving on her, pulling her closer as he showed her his appreciation.

She couldn’t help but laugh, accepting her New Year’s kiss as he sat before her with his pants still askew. If it was an omen for the year, she was glad for it. She’d rather the year be an amusing one than the way the previous one had been.

“Happy 2021 Kristoff,” she replied, kissing him again and letting herself enjoy the sensation of his touch before reaching down to tug on his waistband, helping him readjust before turning to shut the television off and drag him off to bed.

They’d had a long, but very enjoyable day. The perfect way, she thought, to usher in the New Year.

#kristannaadvent2020 #kristanna #frozen fanfiction #this is just smut guys idk what to tell you #it's been a year

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eternaliax3 · 4 years ago

Text

Moving On

Slowly migrating my fics onto here from AO3!

One-Shot | AO3 Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug Relationship: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Rating: G Summary: Adrien's off-handed comment spurs Marinette to accept that she wouldn't be anything more than a friend and to consider someone else.

Marinette was left wondering at what she should do about Adrien as time went on. While her love for him never dwindled, she was steadfastly losing hope for their future as he never showed more interest than friendship.

It was when she was pondering this while she sat with Alya and Nino during lunch that she made up her mind, because Alya brought up the topic of Luka.

“So Marinette, what's going on with guitar boy?” She wiggled her eyebrows at her as she nudged her arm. Marinette looked at her not amused.

“Nothing, Alya. And you know that.”

“But he's so into you!”

“I know, he even confessed to me earlier.” Her eyes turned rueful as she remembered his words as Silencer, and then as himself.

At this moment, as she was staring at her sandwich, Adrien walked up to the group and overheard what she said.

He waved as a greeting, his smile sunny as ever.

“You guys talking about Luka? He's a really cool guy Marinette, you should definitely go for him!”

It was that moment where one could see a young girl's heart break, and the other two people could only look on in a mixture of horror and pity as the one who said it remained oblivious. And yet he continued on, driving the knife even further into her heart.

“You two would definitely make a great couple. I’m rooting for you!”

Marinette plastered a smile onto her face. “Thanks, Adrien.”

Alya and Nino started talking about something else, anything, that Marinette didn’t hear as she zoned out staring at her sandwich. She spent the rest of the school day quiet and thoughtful.

The next week Marinette was sitting on her balcony in the evening, staring at Luka’s contact information on her phone. During the week, she made her resolve to move on. It was painful, oh, it was so painful, but she accepted that Adrien didn’t see her as anything more than a friend. The first few nights were spent crying and writing sad diary entries. But she eventually accepted it.

That night, she sent a text message to Luka asking to meet.

━━━━━━━━

Luka agreed to meet her at the theater to watch a movie, and then get dinner together at a restaurant near the Seine. While the day of the date loomed closer and closer, Marinette decided to craft some new clothes to commemorate the occasion. After all, it was special and she wanted Luka to know that too. She decided to make a circle skirt in her signature color with white and black flowers, and a ruffly white off-the-shoulder top with straps going over the shoulders. She paired her signature flats and purse with them and on the day of the date she twirled in front of her mirror, proud of the new outfit.

Her hair was also left down, and she tied a pink ribbon with a bow on top of her head.

Tikki smiled at her outfit, beyond ecstatic that Marinette was going to be happy. It was also never a bad thing that her ladybug was creating.

Marinette walked down to the theater, butterflies exploding at her stomach, but calming once she saw Luka. The butterflies melted into excitement, and she ran over to give him a hug.

“You look beautiful, Marinette.” His eyes glinting with appreciation at her new outfit and hairstyle. Marinette blushed and thanked him. She noticed that he also wore a new outfit, ripped black jeans that accentuated his tall legs, and a Jagged Stone t-shirt with a black vest over it. His guitar in its case was on his back. It was casual, but definitely Luka’s style.

“You look good too, Luka.” Marinette smiled genuinely at him.

“Thanks, Ma-ma-Marinette.” She had to laugh at that, a slight tinge of embarrassment wafting over her face, but knowing that he was more affectionate with the endearment.

“Shall we go in, then?”

“Of course.”

Luka took her hand in, her much smaller hand in his, and lead her inside.

━━━━━━━━

The movie was enjoyable, and halfway throughout Luka put his arm over her shoulders and she leaned into his warmth. Her heart skipped a few beats as she felt more happy than she did the last month being there with Luka.

After the movie, they both went down to the Seine. Grabbing a bite to eat from a local restaurant, they talked about anything that came to their minds at the moment. Kitty Section and practice, designing new outfits, schoolwork; Marinette found herself rambling at times, but Luka was ever patient with her, finding it endearing when she would gesture with her hands. It spoke of her passion when she was talking about designing.

It came to the topic of music, and Luka took out his guitar and started strumming the chords of a song he was writing. Marinette closed her eyes and let the notes circle around her, the two stuck in their own little world.

“I think I just came up with a new song, Marinette.” He smiled and started strumming a few upbeat chords and humming along with it. His voice was a low timbre, and Marinette found her heart flip flopping and a blush rose to her face.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the music, one she recognized as the melody he played to her when they first met, but different. Revised into a more complicated but accompanied with lower notes at times. She found herself more inspired and her already happy mood lifted higher.

And she pulled out her sketchbook, a mini one that fits into her purse so she could take it with her anywhere. She shot a smile to Luka who closed his eyes and continued playing. They sat together on the steps of the Seine, a guitarist and a designer, finding inspiration from each other and enjoying their time together.

They both didn’t realize how much time had passed as they sat together.

━━━━━━━━

Two months have passed, and Marinette found herself thinking less and less of Adrien, and more of Luka. Pictures of Adrien that she took down that first day of those fateful words that were spoken to her were replaced by pictures of Marinette and Luka together, and of other friends.

Her stutter was nonexistent now, and she found herself becoming good friends with Adrien. She started wearing different outfits that she created and wearing her hair in different styles that she finds online.

Luka and her meet some days after school, sometimes on the weekends, though with Luka’s part time job it was sometimes difficult to schedule a date. Most of the time, it was planned on the spot, after a stray text message sent to each other saying I miss you , it usually led to them meeting up after school. It was instantaneous and improvised, and Marinette wouldn’t have it any other way. Her favorite activity was listening to him play his guitar and sing. She smiled fondly as she remembered the keychain she made him that was now on his guitar case—a little black music note, dangling off of a keyring that seemed to wink in the light.

She found herself missing him every moment he was away, and counting down the seconds she could see him again, even though it was sometimes for days if their schedules didn’t permit it. Marinette found out that he was quite the gentleman, being polite towards every one of her friends and respecting her space. It also seemed like they were on the same wavelength, as if Luka was so in tune to her and she to him, that whenever she tripped or was about to, Luka would catch her and hold onto her.

One of her favorite memories together is when they were walking, and she tripped over a crack in the sidewalk. Luka caught her by the waist and swung her around to hold her in an embrace, as if it were straight out of a romance movie. She laughed and poked his nose, and he responded by pulling her into a sweet kiss.

Sabine and Tom even adored him, saying that he was welcome to visit the bakery anytime and that he was always welcome to stay for dinner. Which surprised her, since Tom was extremely protective of Marinette. It spoke of Luka’s character in spades, if they were taken with him so easily.

━━━━━━━━

It was a few more months that passed and Hawkmoth sent out akumas with a vengeance. Akuma sightings that had to be dealt with in the middle of the day, past midnight, and then in the early morning at times. It drove Marinette mad, and Luka was ever so understanding about Marinette having to leave in the middle of their dates. It ate at her inside, she didn’t think she deserved him.

On the other hand, Marinette hadn’t made any progress into tracking down Hawkmoth, and she felt so guilty towards the people of Paris. How is she doing her job correctly aside from purifying akumas if she couldn’t even figure out who the person starting it all was?

One day she was at Luka’s house for one of their usual hangouts, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She wasn’t enjoying his presence as much as she usually would have, and she was distracted and mopey. Luka couldn’t help but ask what was wrong. And she crumbled. She tried to be strong for so long that it was all let out once he asked that.

“There’s just too much pressure, Luka!” She said in between tears. “There’s just too much. I’m only sixteen years old and have to handle so many things!”

There was so, so much she wanted to say to him, but couldn’t. The next thing she knew, she was wrapped up in a warm embrace.

“I’m here for you, Marinette. You’ve done an amazing job so far. Just let it all out.” His warm voice wrapped around her and she cried harder.

“I don’t deserve you, Luka.” She sobbed.

“Yes, you do.” He smiled at her and gave her a sweet kiss that she reciprocated.

She felt lighter after that, as if the world wasn’t resting solely on her shoulders anymore, and she wasn’t alone.

━━━━━━━━

It was when they were sitting at a café eating lunch together on a lazy weekend that she decided to ask something that was on her mind for a while.

“Hey, Luka? Why did you start liking me?” Her eyes bored into his as they crinkled into smiles. “Was it when you saw me for the first time?” She joked.

“I actually started to like you before then.” He replied with total honesty. At her gape, he continued.

“It was during the time after Juleka came home and started to talk about you. She said that you helped to include her in the class picture a few years ago. She said so many good things about you, and you made my sister so happy that day. I knew you were a good person.”

Marinette couldn’t help but blush, her face heating up. “Wow, that long? That was years ago!”

“Yes, for that long.” He reached over and held her hand on top of the table. “I’m really happy you gave me a chance, Marinette.”

“I’m really happy too, Luka.”

━━━━━━━━

It was during patrol and when she was transformed into her alter ego that Chat Noir asked why she was in a happy mood for the past few weeks. And she told him the truth.

“I’ve started dating someone.”

Chat Noir could feel his own heart breaking as she said that. While she looked into his eyes, he couldn’t help but try and keep a happy facade. After all, she was his dear partner and he had to be happy for her in the end.

“Are you happy, milady?”

She smiled, one that genuinely reached her glowing eyes. Eyes that weren’t happy because of him.

“Very much so, Chat.” She turned towards the glowing city lights around them. “He’s...amazing. Really inspirational and he’s there for me all the time.”

She giggled and started swinging her trusty yoyo in her hands.

“He really sees who I am under the mask.” Her eyes turned wistful.

“But you know what’s funny?” She turned back towards him. “It was actually the boy I loved before that told me to go for it.”

Chat Noir realized he never had a chance with Ladybug. And he had to accept it in that moment.

“I’m happy for you, Ladybug.” And he truly meant it, as he went home trying to mend his broken heart.

━━━━━━━━

The next day, Adrien went to class looking a mess. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was slow in responding to people when they tried to talk to him. It even really worried Marinette throughout the day as she was able to see how he was acting in front of her.

The end of the school day came around and she put her hand on his shoulder as the students ushered out of the classroom, chattering about.

“Adrien, are you ok?” She was wearing a small pout as she looked at his defeated demeanor.

“Hey Marinette, I’m fine.” He tried to hold it together by giving her a small lopsided smile. “Don’t worry about me. Aren’t you meeting Luka soon?”

“Yes, but I wanted to check up on you. If you need to talk or anything, I’m here for you.” She smiled.

“Thanks, Marinette. I really appreciate that. I’m glad things are going well with you and Luka, by the way.” He started walking towards the front gates of the school.

“Yeah, he’s really great. I’m really glad I gave him a chance.” She spun around next to him to look earnestly into his eyes. “Hey, maybe we can all go on a triple date! Nino and Alya, Luka and I, and you and Kagami!”

“Ka-Kagami?” He sputtered.

“Yeah! Isn’t she the one you’re pining for?” She nudged his arm.

He laughed. “Not Kagami.” If only she knew.

“But let’s change the topic here, is Luka treating you right? After all, you only deserve the best.” He winked at her and she laughed.

“He definitely does, Adrien. He really sees me.” She said, and he had to stop right in his tracks in confusion.

“What do you mean by that?”

Marinette also stopped as she realized what she just said and scrambled for an explanation.

“Oh well, you know, I just feel like I have a mask on sometimes, with how much I have to do with the bakery, schoolwork ,and being class president.” And being a superhero that fights akumas at all times of the day , she thought. “Luka just sees past all of that. He really sees the person under the mask.”

Marientte smiled as past Adrien, she saw Luka waiting for her at the school gates.

“Well, try and get some rest today, ok Adrien? I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She left and ran towards Luka, and Adrien could only stand gaping as the deja vu almost knocked him over. Words that were spoken in the night kept repeating in his head and he kept cycling Marinette’s face with Ladybug’s face over and over and over in his mind.

Oh my god, what have I done?

#eternalia writes #miraculous ladybug fanfic #lukanette

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