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mermaidxatxheart · 3 years ago

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Better Together Chapter 5

Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it. Comments are always welcome. If you'd like to be added to my tag list, send me an ask. My works are not to be posted anywhere.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: violence, panic, swearing probably.

Chapter 4

Chapter Five

Leaves whip across your face, scratching the bruised skin of your cheek.

Dirt shifts under your feet.

Your fingers slip on Poe’s shirt and you struggle to regain your grasp.

Panting echoes in your ear, mirroring your erratic, pounding heartbeat.

Roots seem to stretch out of the ground, determined to trip you.

You can’t see more than a foot in front of you.

You stumble, crashing to your knees.

Poe’s grunt is muted, soft, as he lands next to you. Your entire torso feels like it’s on fire.

You want to stay down, to just give up.

But you can’t.

Not yet.

The river is ahead of you. You can hear it.

You start again, ignoring the burning in your muscles.

The trip back is impossible. Too long. Too far. Your urgency makes you clumsy. Your injuries make you weak.

Blaster fire snaps and crackles over your head and you yelp, ducking out of reflex. Poe shoots over your shoulder and you hear the grunt as one of your pursuers goes down.

You have to outsmart them, lose them before they can follow you to your ship. Everything will have been for nothing if that happens.

It takes more time than you can afford, but finally you can board. You guide Poe to the built in sofa and run to the cockpit, getting ready for take off.

Your hands are shaking.

You can’t breathe.

Your vision is doubling.

It’s blurry.

You smash the buttons, definitely not being careful. The engine rumbles after too long of being dormant. You push the throttle to full blast, not caring if you burned down the entire forest.

Fuck this planet.

You plot a random course, jumping to hyperspace the second you can. You run back to Poe, grabbing the cart of medical supplies. You don’t care about your own wounds, only focused on him.

“They probably,” he starts and you nod, jabbing him with a bacta shot.

“I know. I’m taking precautions.” You mutter, avoiding his face. You can’t look at him. Not now. Not after everything.

“Hey, do you think,” he starts and you clench your jaw together as you wrap his bleeding leg as best you can. “Do you think Leia is sobbing uncontrollably right now because she misses me so much?” He asks, hissing quietly.

“Yes.” You reply, tying it tight.

“It’s worse than I feared.” He continues and you push yourself up, heading back for the cockpit, not waiting to hear what’s worse.

You take your natural seat, the co-pilot’s chair and take the wheel. Your hands are scraped and bloody from falling, among who knows what else. The secret stitches all over your body pull uncomfortably, you’ve probably ripped them open. They were crude to begin with.

You can’t just sit here. You have to look for tracking beacons. You force yourself to stand and head back through the cabin, avoiding Poe, even though you can feel his dark eyes on you.

You don’t blame him for hating you. He’s in this mess because of you.

You search the entire ship, maintaining your isolation until you drop out of hyperspace. There’s no tracker inside. There’s a decent chance that the ship was never found in the first place. But you have to be sure.

You head back to the cabin and guide the ship to an asteroid, landing on the dark side. You don’t notice the bloody hand prints you’ve left everywhere, mind too wild and overwhelmed with panic.

“Y/N.” Poe starts and you ignore him, grabbing the oxygen mask and lowering the ramp. It’s cold outside the ship, cold enough to turn your fingers blue.

Good. Maybe they’ll freeze and fall off, and then you can’t hurt anyone else.

You climb all over the outside of the ship, checking in absolutely every little space that could hide something like that, but there’s nothing.

Still…

Hesitation eats at you.

You take a minute outside, hiding like a fucking coward, before going back in and starting the engines once more.

“Find anything?” Poe asks from behind you. You jump, smacking your hand on the hyper speed lever as you try to turn.

“Damn it.” You curse quietly, holding your throbbing hand to your midsection. “Go lay down. I’ve got this.” You tell him, turning back around, trying to get your heart to calm the hell down.

“Y/N,” he starts, but you can’t take the look in his eyes, the ones filled with regret.

“Go. I didn’t find anything.” You say shortly and he eases himself into the pilot’s chair-his seat.

He looks over the console, reading all the flashing lights as easily as a second language. “But you’re still light speed skipping?” He frowns, turning to look at you.

You don’t try to make him understand. How can you? Your last gut instinct turned out so bad, he can’t possibly trust you again.

“Safety precaution.” You mumble, flipping some more switches.

He studies you for a minute, the silence dragging on and you want to scream at him to stop, to go away. But you don’t. And the silence drags on.

“Alright.” He says finally. “But you’ll need my help.” He finishes and you squeeze your eyes shut before nodding. You start the flight sequence, your broken heart doing little twists in your chest. You don’t know if this is going to work, or if there’s even a need for it. But you’ve committed now, you have to follow through.

The ship lifts and you hover before punching it to hyperspace. Radar is still clear as you course correct around crazy land masses. Spires of solid rock shoot straight into the sky as you maneuver. Poe’s grip is tight on the wheel, he’s nervous. He doesn’t trust you.

And just as well.

But the realization still hurts. Your best friend has lost all faith in you.

You flip the next switch, lining up the next location and Poe initiates, sending you back into the seat with a painful grunt. He glances at you, but you won’t show weakness, not when he was nothing but strong for you. You can hide this.

Water reflects a brilliantly lit sky, two suns reflect off a glittering lake, almost blinding you as you rocket towards the tree line in the distance. Radar is still clear.

Again, another planet where you’re steering for your life, praying to the Maker that you don’t crash.

Another, and then just one more.

Poe is silent through the whole thing. Realizing you were wrong, you were never being followed, you cheeks heat with shame as you plot the course for home.

“Go clean your hands, I’ve got it from here.” He says finally.

Carefully, painfully, you peel your hands off. The skin, sticky with blood and cuts adheres to the wheel, pinching and pulling as you lift them. Fresh blood rushes to the surface and you hurry from the cockpit to the refresher.

You turn on the water and scrub your hands, removing more skin than you’re cleaning, doing just as much harm as good. Your reflection taunts you in the mirror, staring at you, blaming you. Wildly, you fling it open, exposing the cabinet behind with all of Poe’s things; medicine, shaving supplies. The tightness grows in your throat and you drop your gaze, scrubbing harder, as if that could make everything go away.

Your nose burns and your eyes blur and you sniffle. Maker, you’re fucking crying while Poe is in there, flying the entire ship by himself while he’s injured and you’re in here, crying like a little fucking girl because you feel guilty.

The ship drops out of hyperspace and you crash back into the wall, head smacking the corner of the shower stall. Pain flares down your neck as you struggle to regain your balance.

Poe’s voice comes on the speaker. “Sorry about that. Had to drop out early. Making our descent now.” He tells you.

“Do…” you cut off, your voice rough, and so fucking weak. “D-do you need help?” You manage and the silence drags on.

“No.” Comes the short reply.

You want to wail, to cry. To tell him how fucking sorry you are! You’re sorry for the kiss, and for getting him caught— but he won’t wanna hear your pathetic excuses and bumbling.

You slide to the floor, knees pressed tight against your chest as you try to breathe, try to steady yourself. The tight space helps, and acts as a compression unit. But it’s not enough. Not after everything you’ve done.

You can feel when the ship makes landfall and panic rises in your chest, sheer, blinding panic. The engines cut off and you hope Poe walks right off the ship to get looked at. Your ribs ache with the effort of holding everything in, of being silent.

And then a short knock on the door jolts you. “We’re here, Y/N. We’re home. Open the door.” He says, there’s something strange in his voice and for a moment your heart stutters in your chest. How sure are you that what you brought with you is actually your Poe? Does the First Order have capabilities on this level?

“You go ahead. I’ll b-be out in a minute.” You call and he sighs.

“Open the door.” He repeats.

“Poe, I-... I just need a minute. Please? Go get yourself taken care of.” You plead.

“You have to get looked at, too.” He reminds you.

“I know. I will.” You promise. Just not anywhere he can see you. There’s an uncomfortable moment of silence before you hear him turn and limp away.

You can hear him speaking at the bottom of the ramp, but then there’s a commotion and he’s shouting. Your name is mixed in and you scramble back from the door, already trapped, nowhere to go. Poe’s shouting gets louder, more frantic and tears finally escape as you shove yourself into the shower, twisting to hide. Clearly, this isn’t the resistance you left, the First Order got here before you, tricked Poe into landing. Now they’re going to finish what they started.

The door to the stall is pushed back, revealing a face you thought you recognized, but maybe your mind is playing tricks on you again. Blood loss is making you disoriented.

“Hey, Y/N, glad you’re back.” They say with a smile that seems to warp into something wicked. “Got something for ya, gonna make you feel real good.” He says, already reaching for you.

“No! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch m—“ you thrust your arm out to fend him off, but he jabs a huge needle into the crook of your elbow and you cry out as it pinches. “No,” you croak, already feeling weaker. Your knees no longer support you and you slump, falling right into their open arms.

“Get a table.” He barks over your head and you try to struggle. “Sh, sh, sh. It’s okay. You’re home now.” He promises, scooping you up and setting you gently on a flat surface. Foggy memories try to claw through the sedative, trying to warn you.

You try to roll off the table, you need to escape, you need to make sure Poe is safe. This is all your fault.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy, Y/N.” He says, catching your wrists and securing them to the table. You try to scream, looking around frantically. Faces are blurry, dissolving as the sedative claims you. You can hear Poe shouting your name as he tries to reach you. People are holding him back, stopping him from taking your hand.

“Give her another dose, she’s fighting it.” The man above you says. The last thing you see before everything goes dark is Poe, fighting to get to you.

***

The hike to their base is long. It takes about half a day for them to march you back there. Made worse by the fact that your arms are bound so tightly behind your back that you’re losing feeling.

Poe keeps looking at you to make sure you’re okay, but other than that, he won’t talk to you. You want to tell him you’re sorry for getting him caught, for kissing him and distracting him. And the way he won’t talk to you, the way he keeps cutting off your sentences tells you that he blames you, too.

The troopers are content to watch you trip and fall, laughing as they drag you to your feet again. Sometimes they’ll even purposely trip you just to watch you struggle.

One time in particular, if you had just fallen where their boot caught your ankle, you would have been fine. But you try to right yourself, stumbling forward awkwardly for a few steps before falling and bouncing your head off a rock. Your name manages to hiss through Poe’s clenched jaw, but other than that, nothing. You’re hauled unceremoniously to your feet and shoved forward, but you can feel blood trickling down your face.

They finally lead you into their base, sore and bruised, dragging you through the sterile halls until shoving you both into a room.

It’s a dark room, red lights dotting the walls sporadically. In the middle, two upright restraining tables facing each other.

Just like in your dream.

Chapter 6

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dragonindigo245 · 3 years ago

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Official post for my orange side theory

AND NO IT IS NOT WRATH OR ANGER

WARNING: Spoilers for Working Through Intrusive Thoughts. I'm not gonna bother adding the spoiler tag to this post because all the spoilers are going to be under the read more.

Also this post is long so be warned.

Back in early August of 2020 I came up with an orange side theory I have stuck with for a long time. I always found the orange side theory of wrath/anger to be odd, seeing as anger is an emotion not a personality trait, and therefore made an effort to try and discover what I can see the orange side being. In light of the fandoms response to the latest asides saying that orange being wrath is "now canon", I figured it was time to bring it back, along with new points and explanations.

What is the orange side exactly? The answer is simple. He might not be this exactly, but orange is naivety, irrationality, or the inability to see logic clearly.

This started when I made the connection to the dark sides being complete opposites to one another. For example, Janus and Patton are opposite ends of the moral spectrum, Roman and Remus are opposite ends of the creative spectrum, and Logan himself is on the functionality/rationality spectrum. The opposite end would be something like naivety or irrationality.

After that post, I made another a couple of months ago with 3 main points, the first being the opposite ends point. The other two points are just as important.

Point 2: It ties into the 3 monkeys theory

The recent episode confirmed the 3 monkeys theory, further solidifying this point. In case you live under a rock or are new to the Sanders Sides theories, the 3 monkeys theory is based on the whole "See no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil" thing. The dark sides all have powers relating to each of these.

Janus has the ability to mute the sides (speak no evil), Remus has the ability to muffle the sides (hear no evil), and Orange has the ability to... make... their eyes pretty? I'm sure that we will get an actual explanation on how he influenced Logan in the future lol. Regardless, orange is definitely see no evil.

Now you may be asking, Indigo, how does this tie into irrationality?

Do you know what irrationality is? The inability to SEE the world clearly or to SEE reason or logic. Irrationality blinds you to reason itself. It makes sense, seeing as emotions are illogical and orange clearly did something to push Logan to an outburst. When orange provided his influence, Logan's eyes glowed orange, indicating he lost the ability to see purely logically. While, yes, orange did this with anger as a vessel, irrationality takes many forms.

Point 3: Color symbolism

Something that is frequently overlooked when fanders make theories about the sides is that each side ties into their color scheme in some way. Roman being red ties into him functioning as Thomas' romantic side, Patton's light blue tying into his gentle nature and trustworthiness, etc.

Orange is a color that is tied to joy and youth. Being naïve to the world around you crumbling down will often make you happier. While some naivety is great and can make you happy, in large doses it is a threat to your well being.

Point 3.5: How is this connection accurate?

A great deal of the plot in this episode, especially the endcard, showcases this irrational blindness to all of the issues the sides are having with each other. Throughout the episode, Logan keeps having to sacrifice his plan to help Thomas and then once Nico calls Thomas, Thomas doesn't know how hard it hurts Logan to once again be brushed off. In the endcard, Patton and Roman tell Logan that this is more important, not realizing how rejected Logan feels.

This isn't just happening with Logan either. Patton and Virgil have had some rising tension as of late as well. This is showcased the most clearly in this video when Virgil snaps at Patton and says "Oh thank goodness. You're giving him permission." sarcastically. Patton takes this as "I didn't know you would give him permission" whereas Virgil was meaning "He doesn't need your permission to feel good about this". Furthermore, each of the light sides have argued with each other individually in different episodes except for Virgil and Patton.

With Janus recently being more accepted, Remus appearing and hurting everyone, and the tension each of the main sides have... it's all going to fall apart. Nobody but the dark sides seem to notice this tension, not even Thomas. Why? Because they are being naïve. The orange side is either keeping them blissfully unaware or the very fact they are unaware is giving the orange side power.

What is the new point you mentioned?

This video with the orange side really got my gears turning. I began making connections that otherwise I didn't have the ability to make, or never happened to think of. The fact my theory has managed to hold up in a heavy orange side lore video only solidifies my confidence in this.

Point 4: The dark sides revolve around the truth

This theory is a little more of a stretch but if I'm right, then this is all the evidence I really need to confirm that orange is irrationality.

Janus is essentially the ring leader of the dark sides. He keeps them hidden until Thomas wants to be aware of them, with the potential exception of Virgil who we don't know when he was revealed to Thomas. However, each dark side has something in common besides witty remarks. They all center around the truth.

Janus and Remus are easier to figure out, seeing as Janus is literally the embodiment of lies and Remus has multiple times where it is obvious he provides the unfortunate truth. Remus being the bringer of truth is showcased multiple times, which I will only bullet point because this post is more-so about orange than him.

His line of "I would never hide anything from you."

Janus bit in Forbidden Fruit that goes "No longer will you deceive yourself about the ugliness within you."

Logan admitting Remus can help Thomas in his own way

Virgil on the other hand is harder. Unlike the other two, Virgil represents a completely different angle of this "truth theme". Virgil represents the fear of both the truth and the unknown. Why would Janus even need to even repress the dark sides in the first place if Thomas wasn't afraid of the truth that they were apart of him? Why would Thomas had admitted he didn't want there to be more dark sides after he asks if there were more of them if it were not fear he had more unwanted parts of him and fear of not knowing what they were?

Virgil knows Thomas' fears. This would have made admitting he was a dark side such a hard feat. If he felt Thomas was chill with the dark sides, Virgil could have instantly told Thomas he was in fact one of them. In a way, this makes Virgil the perfect bridge between the light and dark sides. The dark sides provide Thomas with the truth he needs or wants, and the light sides figure out how to handle it.

Point 4.5: What does this have to do with orange?

Orange would keep Thomas from the truth. While, yes, this is the exact same thing Janus does, Orange would do it another way. Janus makes Thomas unaware of the truth he KNOWS. Unconsciously, Thomas still knows what Janus hides. This makes it entirely different from how naivety works. Naivety would keep him from ever learning the information in the first place.

Furthermore, we saw that orange is potentially connected to Janus in some way. The very last thing we see in Working Through Intrusive Thoughts is the flash from Janus' eyes, to oranges eyes. This could be a slight hint at Janus and Oranges functions not being so far apart.

Or the writers just thought it would look neat. That too.

Is Logan the orange side?

I can say with almost 100% certainty the answer is no. We saw before each sides introduction, they manifested themselves in the other sides.

Janus silenced Roman in Accepting Anxiety Part 2, Remus manifested in Roman by giving him random unwanted outbursts (like the naked Aunt Patty line that Roman said he didn't know where it came from in the Christmas episode), and therefore it follows orange is manifesting in his own way.

Furthermore, Logan is not the type of character to turn evil. He has outbursts and is being beaten down but he would never snap for good. If anything, we have seen from Putting Others First that he would only appear as needed if he felt ignored.

Logan is not one to let his emotions make irrational decisions for long, and he almost always goes to make up for his mistakes the moment they happen. He always has Thomas' best interests at heart and has witnessed Virgil realizing force is not the way to go about it.

It makes no sense for his character and there is no reason for it to happen narratively.

Please note that this post is simply a theory and I do not wish to start arguments about if I am right or not. If you are going to provide counterclaims, please do so respectfully and do not clog my notes with your own essay. Thank you!

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rudysrings · 5 years ago

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Twin Pogues of the OBX - 2

A/N: Ayyy. Seems like no one hates the concept so I decided to go ahead and continue... Let me know what you guys think!

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of sex, guns, slow burn

Word count: 3190

Masterlist

ON WITH IT!

Once you reached the depth of the boat, you released the anchor, letting it fall out of view. You swam across the Grady-White, looking for anything worth collecting, hoping not to find a body, especially your dad’s body.

Near the floor of the bow of the boat, there where keys. You swiftly picked them up, your lungs beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen. You worried that you would take an involuntary gasp of air, so you turned back with only the keys. You wondered how the keys didn’t get lost during the storm.

You broke the surface with the keys in your hand, brushing your hair back from your face. Your friends were over the side of the boat and John B let out a sigh of relief.

Kiara huffed too, “Oh my god, that took forever.”

Pope asked if you had found any dead bodies and you shook your head no. You saw JJ mutter something to himself and look at you with slight guilt. You were gone awhile. He probably thought he had pushed you to your death.

You hoisted yourself up onto the bow and swung your legs over.

When you told the rest of the pogues that what you had found was a motel key, they seemed slightly discouraged and sarcastic that that was what you had salvaged.

Kiara suggested that you guys report the wreck to the coast guard, hoping for a finder’s fee.

On your way there, JJ approached you at the bow, his hand resting on your shoulder. You turned, and he looked at the deck.

He patted your shoulder and pulled his lips inside his mouth, making his face resemble a monkey’s.

“I’m glad you didn’t, ah, drown or something, aight?” He patted your shoulder awkwardly and walked away before you could even respond to that extremely random statement.

You heard Pope laugh at him, slapping his head, “Dude, glad she didn’t drown? Is that the best you can do?” JJ stopped his laughing real quick with a hard shove to the shoulder.

“Ay, shut the hell up, will ya?”

Going back to your beer, you turned back to the water. Kiara nudged your shoulder. “JJ’s right you know, that wasn’t rational.”

You smirked, swirling the last of the beer at the bottom of the bottle. You wrinkled your nose as you realized it was probably just backwash. You took a swig anyways, “Since when am I rational, Kie?”

Kie scoffed, shaking her head at you in disbelief. “You could have died you wretch!”

You shrugged, tossing the bottle aside, “And? Wouldn’t have been the worst way to go. Y’all would have had a helluva story to tell, eh?”

“Story, what the fuck, Y/N?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. Her nurturing reminded your brother. “Honestly, you and John B are the same person. Just gender swapped. You’d be amazing together. I’d never escape your combined mothering powers.” You watched your legs swing over the edge of the boat, something that was far from safe but kept you on edge in a good way. You saw Kiara’s blush and smirked. “Diving was fun, anyways.”

Kiara pursed her lips. “Honestly, you guys are perfect for each other, too.”

You weren’t entirely sure what she meant, but you had a good idea. You knew asking questions would simply draw more attention, so you decided to let it slide.

When you reached the coast guard, John B and JJ went inside to notify them, trying to make their way through the loud crowd.

You crossed your arms as you waited with Kiara and Pope. Pope was staring at you intently and eventually you had enough of it. “What is it, Pope? Why are you looking at me like one of those corpses you so badly want to study?”

Pope didn’t flinch at my obvious attempt to deflect the conversation. “You gonna keep pulling shit like you did back there?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” You said.

Kiara raised her eyebrows as Pope said. “Even if you don’t, I think you should know that John B’s blood pressure can’t take you risking life and limb to check out a goddamn boat wreck.”

You rolled your eyes, “I think I know what my own brother’s blood pressure can take, but thanks for the evaluation, Pope.” You brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear, folding your arms, “Besides, it’s not like my blood pressure can take John B’s constant delusions that our dad’s not dead at the bottom of the ocean somewhere.”

“Y/N!” Kiara hissed at my bluntness.

You held your hands outward, questioning, “What? We all know it’s true.”

Just then, John B and JJ returned, JJ saying, “Well, that went well. So what’s the plan?”

John B insisted that you guys check out the motel room that those keys opened, Kiara agreed to be look out.

As you guys pulled up to the motel, JJ let out a low whistle. You could see why. Agatha had really done a number on this place, even worse than the Chateau. The shingles were barely hanging on to the roof and the entire place just looked drowned, like it had aged fifty years overnight. You noticed furniture all around outside, probably to dry since it would collect mold and mildew if left damp indoors.

It didn’t make sense that someone who owned a Grady-White would stay in a run-down place like this. John B voiced this thought of yours.

You, John B and JJ hopped out of the boat, JJ tying it down. As you guys turned to leave, Pope said to John B, “Don’t let them do anything stupid.”

JJ shrugged, “Oh, we will.”

You winked at Pope, John B sighing, “I’m not making any promises.”

Kiara handed the motel keys to John B, warning in a low voice, “Be careful.” At John B’s lack of response, she leaned forward, giving him a hard look. “I’m serious, be careful.”

You nearly laughed out loud at your brother’s dumb response, an awkward chuckle and a breathy “Heh, yeah…”

As you guys walked down the hall, JJ nudged your side and nodded his head at John B, as if to say, “Watch this.”

He grabbed John B by the shoulder and chin, turning his face towards his; they were only inches apart.

John B’s eyes widened, JJ saying with an overly romantic tone, “Just be so careful, John B.”

Laughing, you watched as John B shoved JJ off harshly, sending him into you. Your back hit the back of his tank top and you caught a whiff of his scent. At first you were repulsed, expecting boyish BO, but surprisingly, JJ smelled of salt, sea salt. He must have been surfing this morning. You pushed him forward, ignoring his dumb grin.

John B looked disgusted, “God, you’re so weird.” He said to JJ.

JJ shrugged, his shoulders reaching his ears. “Dude, what the heck was that about?”

John B looked at him sarcastically. “I don’t know; maybe she wants us to be careful.”

JJ rolled his eyes, clapping him on the back, saying “Every since you’re being threatened with exile, she’s just been like—” JJ caressed John B’s face again, “Oh, be so careful, John B.”

You snorted when JJ added, “Just give me that John D already. Like when are you gonna swoop in on that?”

You but in, agreeing, “You two need to just bang already. I feel like I’m going to puke every time I look at you guys.”

John B’s looked tense. “You know the rule, guys. No pogue-on-pogue macking.”

JJ looked over at you, mocking John B’s statement silently.

You giggled and John B said, “JJ you need help. Not like a little help, you need a lot of help. ‘Cause it’s like every girl who has a heartbeat, you’re just like… UNGHHH…” John B stuck his hands out, acting as if a magnet was forcing him forward, dragging his body.

JJ scoffed, “What? It’s not a big deal. Your sister’s no different!” He defended, gesturing to you.

You slapped him on the shoulder for bringing you into this.

John B turned to JJ, raising his eyebrows. “Don’t bring my sister into this, dude.”

JJ held his hands up. “Whatever, man. I was just sayin’…”

You sighed, walking over to the door. “I think this is us guys, twenty-nine.”

JJ walked over, knocking on the door swiftly before raising his voice to a high-pitch and mimicking in one breath, “Housekeeping.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. That sound nearly sent you. JJ had always been a master of voices, but this was one of your favorites.

When John B asked if he should open it, JJ added something in Spanish and your eyes widened. You brushed your hair forward, hoping no one would see your random flush of skin.

“No power. No security cameras. No one’s gonna know,” said JJ. It was true, this was a beyond ideal situation.

Your brother unlocked the door, letting the three of you in and locking it behind him.

There wasn’t much inside. You figured it was probably a man over 50 given his choice of clothing, but there was no identification. There was a map with some coordinates pointing to off the continental shelf, which made no sense since no one fished there.

John B found a safe, but was trying to guess and check the password, JJ focused on the map. You realized there was a post it with a pin number on it and you picked it up, handing it your brother. “Here, try this.”

It worked. When he opened the safe, you immediately saw piles of cash. “Well, shit…”

You called JJ over and a giddy smile took over his face as he saw what was inside. Of course, he immediately went for the gun.

He picked it up, turning this way and that, pretending as if you guys were in some sort of lame action movie and he was taking down some cronies after him.

In all honesty, you were jealous. Crossing your arms, you pouted. “I wanted the gun.”

JJ shrugged. “Too slow.” Adjusting his position, he asked, “Come on, take a picture of me.”

John B stood up, shaking his head.

You looked at him like he was an idiot, “Seriously? You want to make our own incriminating evidence?”

Suddenly there was a hard rock hitting plexiglass sound from the window and John B looked over, before jumping to the blinds by the door of the motel room, hissing, “Cops.”

There was no way you guys would make it out in time.

You looked over at the window, ushering the guys over, “Hurry! Out here.”

JJ went out first, John B following. You shuffled out quickly, and felt an arm at your waist. You turned to see JJ, who was looking at your feet, focusing on helping you onto the ledge he was on. You leaned out, nearly falling but trusting him to hold on to you as you closed the window door with your hand. JJ pulled you back to the ledge with one swoop, the quick movement making you crash into his side.

Luckily your hair was in a braid, or it might have gotten you guys caught.

John B held his finger up to his lips, gesturing for you guys to be quiet.

You nodded. JJ didn’t remove his arm from around you. There was hardly enough room for one person. Afraid you would fall, he pulled you even closer, so that your feet were on top of his. You were chest to chest, your back against the wall, JJ caging you, but not touching you. He wasn’t looking at you but into the window, his eyebrows furrowed with anxiousness.

Without anything else to look at, you stared at him. Your breath was coming fast from your fear, making you pant and take in large gulps of hot air.

Sea salt. Once again, you could smell it. Stupidly, your mouth moved before you could control it, “Did you go surfing this morning?” You whispered.

JJ turned to you, face blank and confused. “What?”

You saw Kiara and Pope run back to the HMS Pogue.

You flushed immediately, and JJ watched your blush reach your chest. “Uh, what?” You repeated. “Nothing, never mind.”

You looked to the side, trying to ignore his stare on you. His hand reached up, tucking a strand of hair that had come loose from your braid behind your ear.

He leaned back towards the window and John B and him shared a look of astonishment. They had taken the money. The cops had stolen from a crime scene. JJ whispered, “What the fuck?”

You looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed. Suddenly, he shuffled slightly, and the gun that was loosely tucked into his waistband slipped, clattering on its way to the ground.

Fuck.

JJ punched the wall slightly in frustration and cursed under his breath.

John B glared but didn’t say anything. You all flinched when the window curtain was opened abruptly. Afraid you guys would be seen, JJ moved closer, his chest flush against yours now. You could hear his heart racing and you were sure he could feel how fast your chest was rising and falling. Because of the crisis. Right, because of the crisis.

He leaned forward, hiding his face beside yours, his scruffy blonde hair tickling your left cheek.

You took a deep breath before holding it, your eyes closed. You didn’t want to catch anymore of his scent. It made you foolish and disoriented.

It was tense minute. It felt like hours to you. Finally, they were gone. You released your breath onto JJ’s shoulder, and you noticed him shudder slightly.

He pulled away, making eye contact for a little too long before moving. John B opened the window and hopped inside. JJ followed, disentangling his limbs from yours.

JJ reached his hand out to you to help you up, but as usual, you slapped it away. He rolled his eyes as he watched you hold onto the sides of the window frame, hoisting yourself through the space. For some goddamn reason, today had to be the day the tip of your foot got caught on the frame and you stumbled.

Instantly, JJ had his arms out, helping you through.

Once inside, you patted him softly on the chest and he let go of you.

You straightened your shirt, clearing your throat and following John B out the door.

When you reached the HMS Pogue, Kiara and Pope had it ready to go. You guys got in and Pope drove off.

Pope asked if you guys found anything and JJ held up the money and the gun. While Kiara and Pope shouted at him for taking something from a crime scene, you gave him a high-five.

What was life without a little danger, anyways?

When you guys returned to the docks, they brought in Scooter Grubbs’ body. Apparently, he had drowned while taking his brand-new Grady-White into the storm.

When you returned to the Chateau, you guys pieced it together. It was obvious that Scooter had to have been a drug dealer, otherwise it wouldn’t have made any sense that a marina rat like him could have copped a goddamn Grady-White.

Despite Pope’s initial doubts, you guys wanted to go after the contraband that was no doubt hidden in the boat.

For now, you had to lay low. Of course, to you guys, that meant throwing a kegger on your side of the island. You even invited the kooks. They were great at attracting attention, which meant less attention on you guys, and less attention from the fact that you guys had a gun stolen from a crime scene.

It was late, and you walked over to your brother with a beer in your hand. He was leaning over one of the campfire logs, looking out wistfully with his chin in his hand. You followed his eyes and saw that he was staring at Sarah Cameron, the local, certified golden girl of the kooks. Rolling your eyes, you gave him a shove. “Find someone in your own league, bro!”

He shook his head quickly. “What? No, I wasn’t—”

You stopped him from saying anymore. “I don’t care, JB.”

You turned, looking to get more beer when someone twirled you from behind. You were met with a solid chest and looked up to see Asher.

He gave you a grin and you gave a wary smile, uncomfortable with his sudden physical contact.

“We always run into each other at keggers, ay?” Said Asher.

You nodded, pursing your lips. “Seems that way.”

Asher threw his arm around your shoulder, taking the rest of your drink and downing it. “We should really try to change that.” He suggested.

He was asking you out. Embarrassed, you tried to shoot him down nicely, “Ahh, I kind of like it better this way.”

Asher turned to face you, stopping your pace. “Aw, come on! Let me take you out, Y/N.”

You smiled. “Sorry, Asher, but dating’s really not my style.”

Confused, Asher laughed, “But whoring it up is?”

You heard a sharp, “Hey!” and JJ appeared from behind you. How long had he been there?

He shoved Asher. “What the hell did you say?” He questioned, gaining on Asher.

Asher put his hands up in the air, “Listen, man, I don’t want any trouble. Besides, who the fuck are you?”

You saw Topper appear, Sarah Cameron at his heels. “What’s going on here? You dirty pogues giving my little brother a hard time?”

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

Asher was Topper’s younger brother? You had slept with that?

Repulsed, you wrinkled your nose. John B approached to see what the commotion was about as well. He asked what was happening and JJ gestured accusingly at Asher. “This one’s calling Y/N a whore.”

John B’s eyebrow rose, his expression dangerous.

This was not going to end well.

“He did what?” Before he could reach Asher, Topper shoved John B, provoking him to shove back, leading to an all-out brawl.

You were tempted to join in, but Kiara held tight to your arm, not letting you out of her grip.

One thing led to another and Topper had John B’s head in the water, drowning him.

“JOHN B! Topper get OFF!” You screamed.

You watched as JJ’s jaw clenched at your hysterical cries. Steeling himself, he ran up to the fight, pulling the gun out of his shorts and holding it to Topper’s head.

Everyone on the beach scattered at the sight of a gun. Pope cursed with his hands on his head, furious.

JJ muttered something to Topper and he held his hands up, releasing John B. Kiara finally let you go and you ran up to your brother, who was coughing his lungs out.

Kiara joined you, helping John B up and walking him out of the water.

He shook you guys off, glaring at JJ.

You guys blew it. This was the complete opposite of laying low.

To be continued…

Masterlist

@treestarrrrrrrr

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crimson-wrld · 3 years ago

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Caged

Helloo my name on here is Crimson, you can call me that or Z. I found the whump community recently, it's always something I've enjoyed but just recently found the name for on a random check-in to Tumblr lol. I've followed a lot of cool blogs and done my fair share of lurking and reblogging before I decided now is the time to share one of my writings. I have also been thinking about making a new whump story, just for my tumblr here and maybe posting drabbles too.

I write a story over on Wattpad (lol) that is very whumpy and this is a snippet of my most recent chapter. Now here is some context because this is from chapter 38 meaning there are a lot of characters and I felt like it sounded better without changing them to their respective roles, so I hope it's not confusing.

The backstory is that the whumpees are being held in captivity by the whumpers. The whumpers are watching back a video of the narrator whumpee from the night before while making the whumpees serve them. Lucas did not know what happened and gets distracted by a part of the video, which is where this starts.

Whumpers (nicknamed) - Hardhead, Vicious, Baldy, Chip, Sasquatch, Crazy

Whumpees - Talon (narrator, also referred to as Mutt), Lucas (also referred to as Runt)

Caretaker - Sebastian (is a romantic partner to Talon the narrator)

((I've never done this before so I'm not totally sure how to write the CW and tags but I'm trying. Just know that this is heavy writing))

CW: brief implied past noncon, brief noncon mentions, past noncon drugging mention, brief slut-shaming language, captivity, choking, manhandling, hair pulling, claustrophobia, sensory deprivation, multiple whumpers, multiple whumpees, dehumanization, suffocation, stress position, collared, restraints, muzzled/gagged, blood, sleep deprivation, hallucinations, thinking they're going to die (please let me know if I missed anything)

"This is my favourite part!" I hear Hardhead exclaim loudly, then the tv becomes louder, so blaringly loud that it sounds like I have my ear flush against one of those really big box speakers. Lucas continues grabbing a case of beer from the fridge but we both turn our heads toward the tv at the sudden volume change.

It's the part where the drug kicks in and Hardhead has me on his lap facing the tripod camera, hand squeezing the life out of my neck. I can hear myself desperately struggling for air, trying to plead for help, something... for it all to stop- but the drug turns my words into mush. I can see it from another perspective this time, I can see my face losing colour and the sort of foggy memories of it come flooding back.

Then I see his hand trail down my stomach. My arms are weakly flailing out and trying to pull his other hand off of my neck. Then his hands are on my privates and in real life, I look away from the tv. Tears are falling down my face as I hear him verbally teasing me on the video, calling me a whore and laughing at me as I try to breathe. I was so drugged I don't even remember that.

"I bet you like that, dirty whore, don't you?" I hear him say. I start to bring my hands up to cover my ears.

The sound of a gasp and shattering glass fills the room and I jerk my head up to Lucas. He's holding the fridge door open and is staring at the tv, mouth agape and face horrified. It's like a train wreck- he just can't look away. The pack of beer he was holding is on the floor, bottles now in a million pieces scattered around, beer puddling in the tiles and spreading all over the place.

"Shit," I say, staring wide-eyed at the mess on the floor.

"What the fuck was that?!" Vicious yells from the living room.

Lucas snaps out of it then, looking down at the foam bubbles and liquid and glass all culminating together.

"Oh no--- What do I do?!" He whispers, voice cracking in panic. My heart is pounding in my chest harder now. Without much thought, I make a hasty decision.

"Don-don't worry-- I'll take the blame," I say, stepping closer to the broken box so it seems more believable. I hear the couch creaking and steps nearing the kitchen.

I just don't want to see him get hurt.

"Wait don--" Lucas starts to say but falls silent when Hardhead and Vicious walk through the door.

I can hear Hardheads voice echoing in my head, "Rule four; listen. Do what I say. If you don't, I'll punish you- if you make a mistake ill punish you too."

I know I've only known him for about two days, and the situation is deathly far from ideal, but I kind of see him as like a little brother, and I feel the strong obligation to protect him from these terrible terrible fucking people.

"What the hell are you two dogs doing in here?" Hardhead yells, looking down and seeing the mess between our feet. "Which one of you bitches did that?" He yells louder, his face getting angrier.

They take their beer really seriously.

Before Lucas can say anything I look Hardhead in the face and speak in my still semi-croaky voice, "I- I did it. I'm sorry Master." I say bowing my head after.

Lucas looks at me with wide worried eyes speaking, "No! I--"

"Shut the fuck up Runt! Go grab a mop and clean this shit up." Hardhead demands. Lucas brokenly stares between me and Hardhead. I can see the guilt on his face.

Viscous taps his foot, grumbling, "Do it now, Runt."

Lucas looks back at me again, and I give him a nod of encouragement. He frowns and reluctantly leaves to grab the stuff to clean.

"Now Mutt, you sit." Vicious instructs, hooking his finger through the collar loop and pulling me down, letting go when I allow myself to fall to my knees the rest of the way. I feel some of the glass slice into my knees and legs and I hiss, not daring to move though.

"I'm sorry Master's- it just, just slipped," I plead, seeing if I can maybe lessen whatever this punishment is going to be.

Hardhead chuckled evilly, "Oh you're gonna be sorry." He crossed his arms over his chest and takes a single step forward. Lucas gets back into the kitchen now, keeping his eyes trained to the floor as he starts sweeping some of the glass from the floor a little further away.

"Nevermind that for now Runt. Let's have a show. There's something I've been wanting to try for a while now. This is the perfect teaching moment..." he says creeping right up next to me. He grabbed me by my hair tightly and pulled me awkwardly behind him into the living room where the rest of the men are still finishing the rest of the video. Vicious follows closely behind, tugging Lucas by the arm.

I rub my head when he lets go and tosses me to the floor. I hit the ground with a groan, the wounds on my chest bursting with pain, quickly scrambling to get on to my knees though, so I don't get in more trouble. I remember they like me in this position when I got into trouble before.

I whimper when I feel the glass in my knees push in deeper, and I try to pull as much as I can out when they turn away. I manage to get most of it out and I hold my hands over the wounds with pressure to hopefully stop the bleeding.

"Tie him up please," Hardhead says to Vicious, louder than the rest of the conversation. Then he opens the door to the basement and quickly disappears down the stairs.

Vicious smirks, saying, "Don't mind if I do." He opens up a drawer of a dresser on a wall nearby and pulls out a few bundles of rope. They keep that stuff everywhere- because they're sadists.

He stalks toward me until he's behind me, and he shoves me onto my stomach. I reflexively put my arms out in front of me so they don't get crushed and see there's now blood smeared on my hands- more than I expected.

Vicious planted one of his knees on my back to keep me down and the other knee on one side of my body to trap me even more. He grabbed my arms and forced them behind my back. I grit my teeth when he tightly ties new ropes over the deep wounds from yesterday's ones. Then he takes hold of my elbows and jerks them closer together. I gasp and let out a surprised yelp. This would hurt regardless; because elbows are not supposed to bend that way, but it also brings my injured shoulder into an extremely uncomfortable position. I squirm and struggle without even realizing, kicking my feet slightly and raising my head, mouth open in a silent cry of anguish.

All I really notice is Lucas onlooking the scene with a deep frown, twiddling his fingers before a hand tangles in my hair and shoves my face into the rug on the floor.

"Calm it down there, doggy," Crazy laughs, pushing my head down more than should even be possible. The shag rug tickles the side of my face and I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel more rope wrap around my elbows. They pull taught, but not touching, and only because I'm not flexible enough to do that, because if I could, Vicious would have done it. There's no slack though, the rope is so tight that I can't move my arms apart at all, and he tied the space in the middle too, so I couldn't try to move them closer either. It's very uncomfortable, and my shoulder throbs harshly. Involuntary whimpers escape my lips. The men find that funny.

Then the knee on my back disappears, Crazy keeps his hold on my head, and I feel hands reappear on my legs, tying just above the bend of my knees and then my ankles too. I can't stop focusing on how tight the bonds are.

Once Vicious finishes, Crazy lets go of my head, and grasps me from under my arms, lifting me back up and positioning me back on my knees like a kid playing with a Barbie doll. I let out a long breath of resignation. My hair is now a mess on top of my head and hanging in my face, reminding me of the bed head Sebastian says is so cute on me.

Hardhead comes back upstairs with a tote bag in hand. He must've gone down there to gather the stuff for whatever he wanted to try. The fact that it was something he wanted to try out scared me more, because I had no idea what it could possibly be.

He closed the basement door and walked a few steps toward another door about three feet down the wall. He opens it up and reveals something that makes my heart drop.

It's a cage.

A metal wired dog cage, only big enough to fit a medium-sized dog. It's rectangular, and the roof is short, way too cramped for a human.

I start freaking out, tugging against the ropes and jerking my body around, struggling futilely to get away.

"No, wait!" I cry as Hardhead starts walking toward me. I struggle more, tears falling down my face, trying to tilt backward but Vicious and Crazy hold me down in my place.

"This is what happens when you fuck up," Vicious says evilly, and I look around the room desperately, like there's anything I can do. The men are amused, and joking amongst each other, clinking beers and watching the scene unfold. I look to Lucas, and he's crying too; silent tears, pooling from his brown eyes. They're filled with so much guilt.

"I'll do i-" He starts to say, but when I realize what he's doing I cut him off.

"It's fine Lucas!" I shout panicked and wide-eyed. That's one thing I'm not going back on; I don't want him to get hurt.

When I speak Vicious violently backhands me, so hard that my head snaps to the side and I sob out.

"Shut up." He growls, then he tightly grips my jaw and straightens my face out so I'm looking forward at Hardhead instead of at Lucas, holding me there.

Hardhead comes toward us, dumping the contents of the bag onto the floor. It's a random assortment of things and I don't like any of them. Among those things is a muzzle- a fucking muzzle. My heart just pounds harder and harder, the tears just fall faster.

Hardhead crouches in front of me, right up close into my space. He reaches behind my neck and grabs hold of the collar. He unclasps the back piece and I almost feel a breath of relief coming until he pulls it tighter.

"This is an extra punishment for escaping," he says pulling it tighter and fumbling with it until he fastened it closed, "I'd say about two more notches is good, for now."

I feel my breath escape me, it becomes even more of a chore to breathe in-- it's miserable. I hate the feeling of being manhandled like this, having to let them touch me, feeling so helpless... no control.

I just want Sebastian to hold me and tell me it will all be okay.

Hardhead picks up a bag of cotton balls from the pile on the floor and he stuffs a few of them deep into my left ear. I try to pull away but Viscious just tightens his hold and corrects me the way they want me. The sound in the room distorts, everything is muffled on one side. He pushes the cotton in as much as possible, then places some sort of earbud on top that wraps around the base of my ear and fastens it so it won't fall out. My fighting does nothing to stop them mirroring this on my other ear.

I can barely hear anything after that-- only very slight chatter, but I can't make out what any of it means. A hand touches my cheek from behind me, and I don't even hear it coming. I jump and turn to see Crazy laughing. I don't hear that either, which is like a blessing and a curse at the same time. Vicious lets go of me when I turn.

On my way looking around the room Lucas catches my eye again. Chip is next to him this time, pulling him close to his side, like in a hug, but it's obviously not in a comforting way. Lucas is sort of shrunken into himself, but when he notices me looking he puts his fist to his chest and rubs it in a circular motion.

He's signing 'I'm sorry.'

I shake my head at him.

It's not his fault... and it's not mine either.

I look back at the closet. The cage feels like it's looming over me--- it terrifies me.

My vision goes black, and at first, I think I've passed out, but that's obviously not the case because I'm clearly still conscious. Then I realize that I've been blindfolded when I fell the knot tighten at the back of my head, hair pulling into it painfully. I flinch when they touch my face to adjust it.

"No, please..." I start to beg, "I'm sssorry, I'm so-rry-- p-please." My pleading is interrupted by sobs and hiccups. I can hardly even hear myself speaking, I mainly just feel the words rumble and vibrate in my chest as I speak them, and I don't like that feeling by itself.

I gasp for breath, facing wherever I think Hardhead is standing and continue again.

"Please I-" I was cut off by something being pushed into my mouth. I recoiled backwards instinctively, being stopped by someone standing behind me. What I now realize is a bit is shoved further in and I'm forced to bite down as my mouth is enveloped in leather and the leather straps pull taut against my skin so tight I feel like they're cutting in.

The muzzle...

Nothing happens for a few seconds. I feel a slight movement, then hands on my legs, and hands on my sides. One of the fingers hits the burn by my ribs and I let out a muffled whine, feeling the floor disappear from beneath me. I try to struggle again, fighting against them as hard as I can, though it's useless, and I quickly have to give up because the tight collar, the bit in my mouth and the leather residing over it leave me breathless. I suck in air from my uncovered nose desperately, having to focus on it alone because of how hard it is.

I'm not even claustrophobic, but the thought of being stuffed in that cage, in the closet, alone... scares me so much. It's even worse because I'm being deprived of nearly all of my senses.

Then I'm being set down and bent forward, pulled around and shoved until I feel the cold metal of the cage against my legs. They have me sitting on my knees again, bent so that I fit under the short roof. I can feel the wires against the skin on my exposed back and the back of my head as well.

I was thinking it couldn't get any worse when my head gets pulled downward harshly by the collar. I get surprised and jerk up reflexively only for someone to grab me by the hair and push me back down lower. I feel hands fumbling at the front of the collar and occasionally a bit of rope touching against different parts of my neck for a minute before they and the hand in my hair go away. I try to lift my head back up but I can't- it's held in place. They must have tied a rope from the collar loop to the bottom of the cage.

I realize they still aren't finished when my tied wrists are pulled up next. They get tied to the part of the cage where the roof meets the side. My hands are flush against it and some of my fingers are forced to stick out. The same thing happens to the rope on my elbows to the roof of the cage, making my arms nearly form a ninety-degree angle.

I'm left still and locked into the stressful position, then there's a slight vibration, followed by a larger one, then... nothing.

It must've been them closing the doors- shutting me off from everything completely, except for the cold metal beneath me and the throbbing, pulsing, pain. I can't decide if this is better or worse than what was originally planned for me today.

I mean it should be better, right?

There's no warm breath over my shoulder and on the nape of my neck, no hands trailing over my body, no breathy groans in my ears, no chapped lips over my skin and my mouth, no hands pulling my hair, nobody forcing themself onto me...

There's just nothing.

So why is my heart still racing?

Why does it feel like the walls are closing in?

I don't know. I don't know why I want to stay in and leave at the same time- why I can't decide even though the options seem easy.

I feel like it's only been a minute or so when my arms start to ache and my shoulder develops a raw stabbing pain, not unlike the way it felt when it was originally injured. I attempt to shift my position to relieve the ache, which is where I come into even more of a problem.

If I lean forward and bring my head low, which id hoped would allow my arms to move down more, it pulls on my shoulders. The rope securing my arms to the top of the cage makes sure my arms can't move when the rest of my body does, and therefore threatens to pull my shoulders out of their sockets, which especially doesn't bode well on the one that already has been.

When I try to do the opposite and lean my head backward, a similar problem with my arms arises, but to go along with it, they've somehow tied the collar so that it pulls tighter when I pull my head away from the floor, completely cutting off my airway. It feels just like when Hardhead was squeezing his hand around my throat.

If I return to the middle like I originally was, I realize that I have to give my effort to keep my head in the right position, or risk losing my arms... or suffocating.

I decide that I definitely want out.

Seemingly on cue, the pain of everything else seems to slam into me full force, like all the adrenaline of the situation has fully crashed. If I have to hold this position... then I don't know how long I can last... and I don't know how long they're going to keep me in here.

Tears soak through the cloth blindfold and I can't manage to get my sobbing under control, which in turn spirals away the focus I had kept on my breathing. I start to panic, my chest tightening. I'm going to die.

Holy shit. I'm going to die.

I have a hard time doing it, but I scream, as loud as I can through the muzzle. I can't even tell if I made any noticeable noise or not, I can only feel the rumble in my chest, hear my own racing heartbeat. I have to wait a second before I do it again, jerking my body as much as I can -which isn't very much- and squeezing my eyes shut tight. My mouth feels dry because of the bit pushing on my tongue, the pain in my throat comes back full force. My attempts to move make the new cuts on my knees hurt. Everything hurts.

I can't fucking breathe.

Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

In my moment of total desperation I think about it- Sebastian- think about him, his soothing voice.

"Breathe baby, breathe," I can hear him say, "Just focus on me Cuci, in... and out."

I remember how he helps me through a panic attack, ''I'll do it with you, just copy me,' and I can almost see him in front of me, appearing in the darkness, taking deep breaths in for me to mimic.

And I do.

I suck in a large breath through my nose, following the fake Sebastian that I'm so inclined to think is real. I'm staring into his blue eyes, and he's staring back into mine. He raises his hand, and lightly places it on my cheek, mostly resting over the tight leather, and he whispers to me, but I don't know what he's saying, all I hear is the noise. I want to lean into his touch, but I cant-- I want him to hug me tight, and kiss me, but I can't ask him to either. He looks so real- but he's not... right?

I can't tell, but it doesn't matter, I just match his breaths until they're back under control- the tint bit of control I have over them. He whispers more to me, leans forward and gives me the lightest kiss on the forehead, then disappears, a puff of smoke into the air, like it was blown from Hardheads very own cigarette.

I wanted to laugh, a bitter laugh... it can't have been that long yet, and I'm already losing it. But obviously, I couldn't. I can't do anything.

I don't know how long later it was when my tears had dried up, the hallucinations had been plaguing me for so long. I could feel cold hands on my sides, my hips, feeling over my shivering body, grabbing at the shorts, and I couldn't tell if they were real, but I couldn't even manage to care, because I had to focus on breathing and keeping my head up.

I'm so fucking tired. My throat is dry-- it burns, I can't feel my arms, my legs sting, my wrists and ankles never had time to recover from yesterday, the direction of me trying to move rubs against my burns, everything sore, my feet are numb from sitting on my knees for so long, I'm seeing random shapes and hearing random things. I'm losing my mind.

I just want to lay my head down, close my eyes, relax, sleep.

Please let me sleep.

It gets to a point where my eyes drift closed, and it gets harder and harder to open them back up each time. So hard I eventually resort to leaning forward slightly every time I start to drift asleep so it relights the pain in my shoulders and forces me to stay awake. I just have to remind myself; if I fall asleep ill pull my shoulders out.

I'm exhausted. My brain is fuzzy. I don't know how long I've been in here in this stress position. I don't know how much longer I have to hold it, but I hope it'll be over soon.

If they let me out ill be good, I'll be so good for them. No mistakes...

So good...

#whump #whump writing #noncon tw #tw #whumpee #multiple whumpers

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alias-b · 4 years ago

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sins of my youth. 014

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Thanks for waiting!! Billy & Evie have a quiet morning after the party. Start to face the reality of what they have. Friends reconnect. Enjoy the chapter!! TW: Brock's aggressive drunk behavior. Flashes of past trauma and Pica mentions. Some heavy petting.

Chapter 14: Such Sweet Sorrow

Evie finally had him.

For the first time, she was the one gone from the bed as Billy opened his eyes.

One hand felt for her and touched the wall. Dead air where the warmth used to be. Frowned because he wasn't able to bury his nose in endless brown curls to inhale sweet amber.

Billy surged up and heard the shower running. Evie singing unabashedly over it like no one was in the house. Something he couldn’t place on the rock and blues end. Bigger than he was used to hearing from her. Sultry even. Lungs vibrating to handle the smooth sound that was ever-growing.

“Ah oh, smokestack lightnin…” She echoed out against the rush of water. "Oh..."

Billy pictured her hips swaying about as she washed her hair. Suds and curls slick over her shoulders. Smoke fogging. Huge notes he didn’t know she could handle.

"Whoa-oh, tell me, baby..."

Fuck, he was hard.

"Where did ya stay last night?"

A heave followed before he got out of bed. Aching.

"Why don't ya hear me cryin'?"

Trying not to picture her body slick against his under the pounding of hot water. Droplets falling over her lips and eyelashes. The notes she reverberated that sounded like moans. Fingers digging into warm flesh.

Billy had to stop it for his own sanity. Three pounds on the door had her skidding against a bath mat.

Record scratch.

“What!” Evie blushed deep maroon because the show was not for him.

“Play me some Def Leppard, Angel!” Billy echoed back. “Also, I gotta take a leak.” It was satisfying to hear the loud huff follow.

“My mom’s bathroom is free in her bedroom.”

“Yeah, I try to avoid parent’s personal rooms when I’m at a girl’s house. If you can believe it.”

“I don’t. But, I won't dare ask why. I’m just finishing up...and I’m not your personal jukebox!” Evie tilted her head back under the spray.

“We’ll see about that, let me in there to press some buttons. I'm a pro.” Billy got lower and playfully jiggled the handle as the water shut off. Both of them acting their usual combative selves with each other.

“Keep dreaming, William.” Sarcasm made him feel right at home.

“Believe me, I will, Evangeline.” Billy stepped out when the door opened. Steam followed Evie scrunching her curls into a towel. Covered in a deep purple bathrobe that drowned her dewy body. Clean and still blushing, tying it tighter at the sight of him there looking positively messy and stunning.

Ocean eyes sparked without shame.

“Look at you all glowing and wet. Are you...double knotting that because I’m here?” He teased, getting close so one finger could creep under the tie. A tug had Evie's body flush into his. Heat radiating. Damp ringlets dripping down.

“Yes.” The reply was instant. “I’m Billy-proofed now.”

“You couldn’t Billy-proof yourself if you tried.” Towering, her slunk in toward Evie’s unamused expression. Earned himself a wet hair towel tossed over his head. Cackles erupted.

“All yours.” Evie hurried around him and shut her bedroom door to get changed. Threw a plain skirt on to tuck a shirt into it. No plans to leave the house or see Heather.

Heather.

Evie eyed her bookcase of treats. Plucked up a gemstone and didn’t want anything else. Wanted to struggle and feel it force down. All the random pangs in her stomach. It gnawed. She thought of choking. Of Billy finding her.

Slowly, she tapped it back down. Tried to just breathe through it before knuckles rapped the door again.

“You have my pants.” Came the voice. Evie broke to laugh.

“Yeah, yeah.” She clicked the lock and let him in. No makeup and damp curls cascading all over her shoulders. “I’m starving. Breakfast? I can make...toast sorta.”

“That tone really convinces me. I saw a perfectly good waffle iron in there.” Billy rubbed his shoulder and caught her looking again. A beat before he explained. “Dad had an empty bottle in his hand when he swung. Busted the damn thing on me, okay? It’s ugly, don’t worry about it.”

She gasped, steering toward him.

“Did it cut you? He could have broken it on your head or-”

“Lucky break.” Billy joked, rolling his arm a little before he passed her to snatch his jeans up and put them back on. “He missed my face. I can handle it. Just, let me worry about it, alright? I hate to see your eyes get all huge at me.” Blue yawned and hopped off the bed to follow him before Evie went too.

“It frightens me more that you’re so...causal.” She spoke lighter, washing out Blue’s dishes to fill them. Meows followed and Billy softened.

“I make a good breakfast, you want to help me out here?” Bright eyes flashed over his shoulder.

“We’ve used this thing like once.” Evie chuckled. “Mix is above your head. I’ll get a bowl.” She clicked around to find one and set it out.

“I don’t want to talk about my dad when I’m with you.” Billy decided, eyes on the window above the sink. He tried to numb. “Okay? Evie, I know you hear things. I need you to pretend you don’t. For me. Just...”

Broad hands settled on the counter. Submissive. Vulnerable. He didn't turn to see her.

“I’m allowed to worry still.” She pointed. “But, I’ll give you...space.”

“Fair.” He seemed the type to leapfrog the subject either way. Evie didn't want him to run. So she just stared at the lines of his back shifting.

Odd to see him so domestic. All velvet and sleepy. Making breakfast. Evie wondered about putting her arms around him. Kissing his cheek. Dragging him back into bed. Rolling around under cotton sheets.

Her head shook. No. No. No.

Billy loaded the hot iron with thick batter and clamped it shut. A hiss tapered off. The sound snapped her back.

“Hope you’re taking notes.”

“Definitely.” She chuckled. Figuring he spent a lot of time cooking for himself growing up. Evie stepped up next to him and licked her lips. Gathered the will to say it. “Hey, I, uh...like hanging out with you.”

Billy’s brow rose. Sly while he bit his tongue. Head tilting to boast.

“Getting all mushy on me, Angel. Look at you melting between my fingers.” He didn't know the half of it. Lashes batted at her so Evie rolled her eyes.

“I regret saying it alrea-mmff. ” She had her chin cupped to angle it so their lips could collide. Palm sliding to her neck, a thumb drew a circle into flesh.

Evie drew out.

“Did you use my toothbrush? I taste mint.”

“Just the mouthwash.” Billy laughed at her, pecking between words. “I’m not an animal.”

“Debatable.” Evie’s hand went behind his neck to bring him back down. Tongue and teeth. Billy actually moaned. Pressed her back into the counter before she pulled out. “You’re gonna burn it.”

“Shit.” Billy jerked away to save the first waffle just in time before adding another. “Only care so I can impress you.”

“Sure.” Evie droned. They stood there in silence. Shared one space to make a warm breakfast. Peaceful and smelling of sweet batter. Warm and easy. Almost too easy. Eyes flicking to each other and away between steaming pulses.

“Syrup.” Evie strained to reach it and Billy brought two plates to the table.

“You gonna let me cook for you again?” He waited for her to take a bite. Humming blissfully.

“Oh, my god,” Evie cut another piece. “Okay, I’ll give you this. You’re full of surprises, too. Billy Hargrove can cook. He writes stories he won’t share in school and still gets not half bad grades. And he’s the fucking Keg King.”

“I think you finally find me interesting.” Billy folded a huge piece in half and swallowed whole. Syrup dripping from his lips to be licked.

“Ugh, I-” They froze when the phone rang in Evie’s room. Frowning, she cut her food with more ire. Billy shot her a look between bites. “I already know it’s Heather.”

“She’s gonna get to you eventually,” Billy noted, plate empty. Evie left a sliver out of habit and caught him eyeing it before she slid it to him wordlessly. Wondered what his eating habits at home were. He stabbed it with his fork and swallowed.

“I know. I just,” Evie searched, “I can’t right now.” With some haste, she got up and took the plates away to wash them. Scrubbing harder than necessary as Billy came into the kitchen. Felt his eyes blare. “Hey, come over here.”

Billy crossed to her at the sink. Watched Evie turn to grip the counter when he blatantly invaded her space.

“This close?” He winked.

“Just,” Evie’s breath hitcher sharper as she stood tall to see his eyes, “don’t move for a second.”

Fingertips drew up the hair on his forearms. The veins that pulsed. Danced over his collar gently, felt the heat of him through his tee. Billy just watched with his usual intensity. Evie avoided his eyes and touched him. Delicate caresses that rocked his soul apart.

One palm cupped the back of his head. Surged into bedhead curls. Eyes lifting to burn his. Billy gave this wanting, little sound. Leaned in for a taste, but she evaded him. Just to see his eyes cloud. Massaged his neck and pulled him down for a gentler kiss. Pushed her tongue out to taste him first. Sticky sweet maple. Earned another whine.

Billy inhaled against her. Let Evie have some control and worked to earn it back. Made another breathy sound before he palmed her bottom. Grinding into Evie until he was picking her up to set her on the counter.

A squeal caught up her throat. She felt his muscles bulge and strain but he did it like she was nothing. Shock etched before Evie was reeling out to dart her eyes all over his expression.

“Told ya.” He chuckled, pressing in between Evie’s legs. Fingers tucked a blond curl aside before her voice stopped another oncoming kiss.

“Are we just going to keep doing this until one of us cracks?”

“Jesus Christ, Evie, we tongue fucked in the middle of the street. During a fight." Blue eyes glinted. "That was already the crack.”

“I’m just thinking about...after.” She searched for more words and none came.

“Too young to worry about the after.” Billy leaned back to see her. “I think you want to feel good now and…” He leaned in closer, fingers dancing down her front. “I wanna be the person making you feel good. Pretty simple. Crystal clear. Yes?”

"Y-Yes." That hot iron hand slipped under her skirt. Billy ghosted their lips and heard Evie shiver at his touch. Sinful fingertips trailing up her inner thigh. Dangerously close. Admiring her unfurling.

Too pretty when lust blushed her cheeks that obscene red. Full lips opened. No sound came. She sunk into him totally. Stunning.

Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon.

"I just don't think you've had the right people making you feel so good, Evie." Billy's voice dipped to a baritone that always turned her to putty. "And the things I'd like to do to you. Hm."

Lips touched the shell of her ear. Left little kisses that lingered in a uniform trail. Arms tightened around him. Felt his finger draw up the hem of her panties. Readied to curl under the fabric.

He leaned out for permission. For her to ask him for more because she wanted him just as bad. Billy had to hear her say it. The craving itched him deep in his stomach.

Evie wiggled in place and then she heard it when they locked eyes again. The unmistakable click of baby pink platform heels. Never had the damn sound filled her with such dread.

“Fuck.” They scrambled away from the counter. Lungs sputtering until Billy bumped into Evie in the dining room between the kitchen and living space. Craning to see the front door. Keys jiggled the lock. “My mother.”

“Hey!” Billy tripped as Evie pressed him out, both knowing they wouldn’t make it to her room.

“Under the table, I’m not letting her find out about…” The word died. Us. Billy actually laughed on his way under the table, hiding within the embroidered cloth. Evie sprang to attention holding her breath as Mona burst in. Fighting to get her key out.

“Evie!”

“Mom…” Evie flashed a smile and tried not to look all blushed and guilty. Like she hadn't just had a boy's erection pressed into her thigh. Like she wasn't about to let Billy Hargrove fuck her on a counter after making her breakfast. “You’re home so early.”

“Oh, well we had this disagreement down there and I just also couldn’t stand how we left things…” Mona was gesturing aimlessly and setting her bag on the sofa, turning to see Evie before she gasped out. “Baby, what happened to your face?”

“Uh! I...slipped on the ice going down the steps. Really embarrassing.” Evie touched her brow.

“Sweetheart,” Mona came to kiss the wounded eye socket all better, “did you ice it well? I should have something that'll cure that right up in my bag.” Manicured hands came to angle and see, tutting. “My poor thing.”

“It’s fine, really. I was just…” Evie trailed off as Mona hugged her. Tight. “Mom, really I’m okay. What…What happened?”

“Oh,” she sniffed and laughed it off, “sisters disagree on silly things. They still love each other. And I just kept thinking about you here. I missed my baby.” Mona patted her cheek and smelt the air. “Is that cologne? Did you throw any parties while I was gone?”

“No, I did adopt a new kitten. She was...a gift from a friend. Blue.”

“I’ll have to meet the little devil when she wanders out.” A smile flashed. “No parties though, you know I don’t mind a few friends over. Maybe...a nice boy.”

“Mom.” Evie groaned.

“Swear on Dolly, no parties though.” Mona joked, sharp talons flicking toward the blonde country queen's framed face.

“I swear on Dolly. I...did try to make waffles. Craving.” Evie chuckled and slid into a seat at the table. Adjusted the tablecloth some.

“They don’t smell burnt, I’m impressed.” Mona went to her bag. “Ah, well, I got us all kinds of fresh supplies. Powders and dust. Candles. Oils. Gris-gris. Plenty of sage for the house. And you can’t snoop around my bag because I got you some lovely items for your birthday, missy.”

“Great,” Evie rubbed her temple and jabbed her sock-clad foot out when Billy’s fingers teased her leg, “listen, mom, about our fight-”

“What fight?” Mona paused to blink at her daughter, setting new candles up on the shelves. “Oh, that little tiff. Sweetheart, your father and I are still working things out. I didn’t want to tell you because...the thing is…he doesn’t want to see us. In fact, he’s been sending that money to ease his own consciousness and, I won’t accept it. We don’t need him. We have each other, that's enough.”

Evie wanted to fight her mother on it. Watching the woman click around and keep busy by force so she didn’t have to face those pesky emotions.

This woman who was alive and who sang her songs and who brought cut up pieces of fruit into her daughter's room unprompted. Who made delicious meals and who loved and supported her, despite being overbearing. Despite not wanting to process the negative.

Not everyone had a person who loved them that deeply, but Evie did. So, she just nodded.

“No, you’re right.” Hands clasped. “I hope you had a nice time down there.”

“Yes, it was just a full house and I missed you. That’s all.” Mona pressed her lips. “I like being back home.”

“Me, too.” Evie gave Billy another light kick for being a handsy shit.

“I’m going to get the rest of this stuff unpacked in my room and I might have a trip to the store. Never a lazy moment, honey. Do you need anything?”

“Ah, I can’t think of any-” Evie hitched a gasp and covered it in a cough because Billy’s head slipped between her knees. “-thing!” They clamped shut to keep him in place. Mona blinked and gave her a shrug.

“Alrighty, dear. Well, let’s say dinner tonight at six?”

“Six is perfect!” Evie pressed her lips, ready to burst at the mouth on her inner thigh. Teeth nipped and she reached under the table to tug for curls.

Mona flounced off to her room with the suitcase and Evie shoved out from the table the moment the door shut. Saw Billy's head perk, engulfed in the hanging cloth and looking too innocent.

"Nice orange panties. Little lacy."

She scowled at him. Lips touched her knee as an apology until Billy snickered and got pushed as he crawled out.

“What? I figured you sat down so I-”

“I was making sure you were covered, asshole.” Evie hissed. “C’mon, you cannot be here. My mom can’t know about us or...me with anyone, she’ll lose her mind.”

“You mean, she’ll start ordering wedding cakes.” Billy snuck back to the bedroom with her. Realized she had him by the hand. Evie shut the door and put on music so he could grab the rest of his stuff. “Window?”

“Probably best.” Evie fiddled with her fingers and peered down. Shuddered to let the molten heat subside fully. “Sorry.”

“Not my first grand escape.” Billy got his jacket and boots on. Looked up from her bed and flashed a smile. “See you around?”

“You might.”

“Swear on Dolly.”

“Stuff it. Now shoo.” Evie clasped those fidgeting hands behind her as he pushed the window up to climb over it.

Billy paused in the snowy grass when a palm covered his still gripping the edge. Blue eyes peered to see before lifting to her face, unable to read the expression or those huge, sparkling eyes that were ending him.

Unable to stop himself.

He craned to place his lips on her brow. A smile quirked and he had to face away from Evie for the first time. Something burst open and overcame him. Rendered Billy into a daze. Painted new iridescent colors he'd never seen before.

Fingers curled together. Drawing the connection out even still because they couldn't look at each other. Something else might crack and neither would come back from it.

“Why’d you do that?” Evie sounded out with no air.

“I felt like it.” He shifted the toe of his boot into frozen slush to hear grass crunch.

“Your lips are soft.” Evie peered aside. Butterflies landing within her stomach. For once, it didn't feel empty or like it was weighed down with jagged stones. “I meant what I said about going out. Me and you.”

Me and you. Sounded so saccharine.

“I was gonna hold you to it, don’t think I forgot.” Billy peeked to see her and they managed to share another beat.

Whatever cracked seemed so worth it.

Evie felt the cold seeping in around him and didn’t let his hand go. Didn't want to because he was letting her see him and touch him. Billy thought of when he was a little boy and his mother took him to see a play.

Romeo and Juliet. Lovers on the balcony. It seemed silly up until this exact moment where she looked so exquisite.

Billy longed to create stories with such a hold. Things that distracted from men who hit. Things he could project himself into so others could see inside his chest without it hurting.

One truth became so clear. Evie didn't hurt.

"Evie."

"Yeah?"

“Are you waiting for me to change on you?” He kept her gaze steady. Thought he saw her eyes well for one second.

“Honestly, I don’t know what I’m waiting for these days. A charge maybe.”

Billy looked amused, stretching toward her to settle their foreheads together. Tilting.

“I’ve heard you sing, Angel, draw it yourself.” He came back. “And talk to Heather.” Billy slipped from her hand and it pained him. It actually collapsed something under his flesh. “Sad eyes are killing me.” He plucked for a cigarette to light up. "You might just kill me, you know that? And I'd let you."

Evie was lost in him, too.

“Billy.”

“Hm?” He gave a sly turn and she bit her lip, picking up Blue when the needy kitten crawled to her for affection.

“Promise me something.” She cocked her head, dark locks bouncing in the clear daylight. Billy curled a fuller smile at her.

“Think I won’t do just about anything for you at this point?”

“Just promise me you won’t change,” she said, “after.”

“So you admit we’re happening?” He teased and Evie got flat. A finger drew along his chest. Eyes steady. “Cross my heart.”

Evie shook her head with a smile and started to shut the window. Such sweet sorrow.

“Hey, flash me for the road.” Billy got vulgar.

Never mind!

A huff before she smacked the window shut. Billy laughed on his way around the Hargrove house. Neil’s car was gone to work. Thankfully.

Susan prepping a meal in the kitchen. Eyes lifted to see the boy still grinning to himself like he held a secret close to his heart.

“I like that song.” She mused, chopping carrots and celery. Billy skidded to face her in the doorway.

“Huh?”

“That Irma Thomas one you were just humming.” A smile followed. "I played it on the cello once. When I was younger. Did you know that?"

“No... Uh, must’ve been the TV playing it though.” Billy hurried to his room, passing Max with some headphones on so he made a point to flick them off for fun.

"Jerk." A red scowl followed him as he ruffled her hair and went along. Blissfully uncaring. "Ugh."

Not missing a beat, Susan went back to her prep. Considered the reality that her stepson was on the cusp of first love.

** ** **

Evie mulled over her phone the next afternoon. Staring like it might come alive and solve all her problems. If only.

Blue hopped up for some pets that were granted. Purring encouraged Evie to pluck up the receiver. Dialing before she smacked it down.

“C’mon, just…” Evie winced and tried again. No answer. She ignored four calls the day before. Frowning, Evie settled the phone down and stood up with Blue. Heart falling.

And then a ring. Evie didn’t wait for it to end.

“Hello!” She blurted.

“Evie!” Heather matched in enthusiasm.

“...Hey,” Evie sank down holding the kitten to her chest.

“Hi,” Heather lost what she was about to say and sighed, “can we maybe talk somewhere?”

“I’d...I'd like that.” Evie searched, licking her lips.

“I, ugh, went for a walk into town. Want to meet at our cafe?” Heather sounded out, breath spreading cold in the booth. “I’m on a payphone.”

“Sure. I’ll be there in ten?”

“Right...right, I’ll see you, I…” Heather welled. “I’m so sorry.”

“Let’s just talk when I get there.” Evie sniffled. “I’m not mad anymore. It's stupid. It's not us.”

“O-Okay, I’ll see you in a bit. I’ll order your favorite.”

“Thanks, Heath. I’ll hurry.” Evie smacked the phone down and let Blue go to wander. “Mom, I’m going to meet Heather!” Hands yanked her boots and coat on.

“Leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry tonight!” Mona came out fixing her hair in a cocktail dress. “I’m going to meet some friends. Be home later, don’t wait up for me.” Evie stared at the little silver dots decorating her mother’s dress. The sparkly earrings she was putting in.

It was clearly a date.

“Sure.” Evie turned away to go into the cold, shutting the door behind her. Tried to pretend her mother wasn't another fifty logs on the fear of dating Billy Hargrove fire.

Barely catching the bus at the end of the road, she made it to the opposite side of the main street in no time. Hands stuffed into her pockets while shoulders hitched at the rush of cold. Evie shivered and got to the crosswalk, eyes lifting to see the orange hues inside the little coffee shop.

Heather in the window checking her watch with two drinks steaming and ready. Eyes lifted and brightened upon seeing her friend there. A smile crossed before she perked to wave.

Evie brought her gloved hand out to mirror it. Light as a feather.

A weight looped her wrist. Miraculous and dragging. Evie thought she might sink into concrete. A hand attached to a stumbling drunk.

It was Tannen’s eyes that shook her. Full of vitriol and rage. Enough to poison anyone. The back of her tongue burned with it. Evie suddenly couldn’t speak there against a harsh rush of winter wind.

“Fenny. Girl, I was just thinkin ‘bout you.” Tannen smiled all sloppy and he still looked so hateful.

“Let me go, Brock.” Evie tugged back against him there at the crosswalk.

“Just wanna talk. Like we did in that closet. When we hid from the storm together. Was nice.” He made this odd sound. A scrape in the back of his throat. Evie realized he was crying. Unsure why it frightened her more. “Never told anyone else what we talked about, did you know that?”

“You’re drunk, you need to go home.” Evie leveled out. If his emotions went any higher, they'd burst.

“Evie!” Heather called across the street. Jogging over as Brock yanked her further along. Into his much taller body. “Hey!”

“We’re just talking, Holloway, don’t get your thong in a twist.” Tannen pulled a flask from his pocket and gulped, spilling sour alcohol on them both. Evie wrinkled her nose and really began to fight because he was yanking her toward his shiny new car. Already a dent in the side.

"Get your damn hands off her!"

"Maybe when I'm finished!" He craned toward the other girl.

“Let go of her,” Heather grasped for Evie’s arm, “you need help.”

This manic smile crossed his face.

“It’s why I’m talking to Fenny, here. She’s just s-so fucking helpful. Pretty pillow for the world to land all its shit on. Aren’t you, girl?” He dropped his flask into the top-down car and pinched Evie’s cheek, got smacked off as she struggled. “Just understands shit. So, we’re gonna go somewhere and talk like we did that night. Think about it too much and you fucked me up. You're gonna fix it.”

Muscles burst when he plucked Evie up by her elbows and carelessly threw her into the backseat over the door.

“Stop it!” Evie scrambled up to crawl out as he pushed Heather around. “Just stop.” She got out so he went for her again. Playfully hugging her into his chest. Brutally intoxicated. No one walking the streets to help at the late hour.

As if they'd try. Fucking people in this town. Minding their business when actual shit goes down but running for the dirty gossip.

“You were right, girl, everything you said. Fucking sucks. All of it. But, you knew that.” He went on, eyes watery. "All this shit. It's not worth it."

That gouged her.

“Brock, you need to let me go, right now.” Evie got wedged between him and the car. “You’re scaring me, do you understand that?” She dropped her voice. Got through to him. “I’m sorry, divorce is shit and parents can fucking suck. But, this isn’t going to make your life better. Destroying yourself and hurting others...just stop. You can stop.” Heather came to tug at him again and he seemed to flood back.

Evie felt him loosen up so she slipped out and away.

“You shouldn’t be driving.” She tried. Snatching his wrist to help and the hate poured out. Hot lava burning Evie before a shove sent her back into Heather's arms.

“Not over,” he muttered to himself, skidding around to get into the car regardless, “not over. Fucking Hawkins trash. Sick of it. All of it.”

“Brock, just-wait!” Evie felt Heather grip her wrist as he swerved off. “Fuck.”

“He’s losing it.” Heather pulled again. “Are you okay?”

“We should call the police, he could hurt someone...or himself.” She added, going to a payphone. “Do you have change?”

“Yeah...yeah.” Heather fished through her little wallet and Evie smashed some buttons. A couple of snowflakes fell as she hurried to speak into the receiver. Sky darkening above. One sigh followed before she shrugged and set it down.

“He already has a DUI, this won’t end well.” She rubbed her face. “He was crying.” Like Fredrick. Huge, wet tears hitting cool skin. Hands pulling for more of her to still them.

They're sick and twisted and hateful and this part of Evie still wanted to nurture. To make it better because she couldn't make herself better.

“Are you okay, though?” Heather asked again, sweet as pie when she smoothed a snowflake from Evie’s cheek before it could melt away. Brown eyes flickered.

“Yeah, just spooked I guess.” Hands went back into her pocket so she leaned into the booth. “You?”

“Just glad he didn’t drive off with you.” Heather shook at the thought noticeably, using her sleeve to itch her nose before she held herself and frowned. “What...did you guys talk about in that closet? You know, before the fight?”

“I, uh, was pretty drunk so I don’t remember much actually,” Evie sidestepped out of the booth, eyes elsewhere, “it was over a year ago.”

Brock was an asshole, but these weren’t her secrets to share.

Evie got a few steps in before sighing ice to turn back to Heather. Stunning there under flickers of snow and stars reflecting in her big eyes. Glowing streetlamps. Hair piled with a baby blue ribbon to match her fuzzy sweater. Lips wobbling. Steady, Evie came to hug her tight.

“Not mad.”

“You should be.” Heather sniffled, squeezing her before pulling out. Fingers curling into Evie’s coat. “Listen, the whole thing was dumb. He was normal at the time, I didn’t know he was such a jerk. I just asked if he’d met you and figured you guys might have something in common. I was drunk and maybe vulgar. I'm sorry.”

“We did, ah,” Evie caught herself, “you were just trying to be a wing-woman and I...I get weird about that stuff. I’m still coming around to the idea of being...desired. I don't know. Let's just go inside.”

“Ugh, you’re hot, Evie, you are!” Heather smacked her ass as they turned to walk off. Evie jumped a mile into the air giggling which Heather mirrored. Arm slung over her shoulder. “The updated wardrobe was only the beginning. You’re the whole package. Smart. Talented. Hell, you have the Keg King on your line. Just admit you’re a tough bitch already and you deserve only the best.”

“I have him on my line because someone gave him my number. What happened to busting his balls for me?”

“Well, I can make an exception if he makes you smile like that.” Heather teased. “Come on, I bet our drinks are cold.” They went into the cafe to leave Brock and his deranged expression behind. Back to the table after Evie waved at Jesse near the register. “Just got us a hot chocolate, figured we could use it. I can get us another if-”

“It’s fine, Heather, let’s just sit.” Evie slipped her coat off and exhaled.

Behind her eyes, pictures flashed to blind. These snapshots of Fredrick shoving her into bed the same way Brock pushed her into that car. Brown hair slipping over sheets before fingers tugged at her clothing. Standing too tall over her until his shadow cast to shroud her soul. Evie felt lost to so many shadows before him with twisting smiles and thunderous claps.

A hand pushed into her chest to level the speeding heart and weeping lungs. Willed them to be still and lie down as Heather started to speak. More apologies.

Evie brought her sweater higher to cover herself. Tugged the sleeves down. Wanted to curl up in too much fabric and drown in a dream of silken sheets and falling begonia petals. So no one could see her skin and burn it.

Her breath drew tighter, closing in around too many clacking objects. Gemstones and keys. Red pushpins like cherries and that one safety pin that definitely opened on its way down. But, she’d been good again. Things would just come out. They had to.

They had to.

The things we put into the world come back at us. It worked both ways.

“Evie, you’re shaking.” Heather paused to touch her hand and Evie almost lunged back.

“I-I...I’m okay.” A smile cracked too wide. “Just Tannen.” Evie sputtered this breath like a broken fan, head shaking. Another smile. Even wider. Cheshire cat grin full of whimsy. She gulped and forced the chocolate down. Chalky into her stomach. “Did...Carol hurt you during that fight?”

“Almost pulled my earring out but I got some hair,” Heather tilted to see Evie’s face, “don’t see much of a mark from that slap. You really gotta stay out of fights, Fenny, you’ll give Billy a run.”

“Don’t I know it?” Evie watched Heather sip and peer at the little fireplace in the corner. “Mostly just shocked and I fell right into Tommy.” Evie rubbed the corner of her eye. Started to breathe better with her friend here.

“I still...feel bad about-”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Heath,” Evie peered at the frost spreading along the windows. Near ready to obscure the world. Hide them in a warm little corner. “I don’t want that for you.”

“I put you in danger, Eve. I did that.” Heather frowned again. Took a shaky drink.

Evie didn’t have the heart to tell her best friend that danger was an old love whose arms she’d always walk into willingly. Body and soul. That she felt here when her heart panged at danger’s shadow and weight looming over her shoulder. Spilling to eat her right up. Weighting her into a damp sheet. Again and again in the same room that held her hostage.

“Guys like Tannen put us in danger,” Evie decided at last, “not the other way around.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all so much for reading and supporting!! Chat with me and let me know what you think of the story if you have time. xoxo

TAGGED: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @orxhidshavana @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10 @stanley--barber @charmed-asylum @unmistakablyunknown

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove fanfiction #Billy Hargrove imagine #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #mine #writing #SOMY #Angel Fenny #billy x angel

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perfectlywisedelusions · 4 years ago

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The Live Action Mulan Is Unintentionally Hilarious

There are some things I liked about the live action remake of Mulan. The cinematography is excellent, and the locations are beautiful. The action is well choreographed and shot, for the most part. Like all Disney remakes, the sets and costumes are excellent. The score is pretty good. The movie looks nice. Now, it’s time for the things that came across as hilarious.

The acting is consistently mediocre. The best actors are the guy who played the one love interest, and Bhori Khan. Everyone else is really mediocre or bad, or we don’t see enough of them to judge. (I am leaving Rosalind Chao out of this because my Trekkie heart wants to defend her, but she has to try and cover up her very American accent and it’s pretty funny.) Mulan really never shows any emotion, nor does anyone else. (Although the actress who played Mulan was really good at martial arts and did a lot of the stunts, so she gets some acting forgiveness.) Our main characters are faced with death, and they never react at all. By far the worst actor is the emperor, who is supposed to be wise and stern but comes across kind of like a robot. When he’s in the throne room, his line delivery is hilarious. He kind of sounds like a not angry version of Anthony Hopkins in Thor: The Dark World.

The CGI in this movie is atrocious. It is funny how bad it is. The phoenix looks awful. At the end of the movie, there’s this CGI molten metal that looks really bad. There’s a scene where Mulan’s battalion discovers a group of dead soldiers, and they tried to turn the sky gray in post. It looks so bad, especially since the dead soldiers don’t look good either. It’s supposed to be a sad scene, and it’s funny instead. The witch transforms into birds a lot, but the CGI is so bad that they have to cut away or only show reflections of her full transformations. This happens almost every time she transforms and it’s hilarious once you notice it.

Even the characters’ actions are kind of funny. Mulan never thinks to tell the Matchmaker that there is a spider under the teapot, even though it is a good excuse for why she moved it in the first place. There is no reason for her to keep it secret. The general decides to take his entire army out of a fortified garrison to fight mounted troops on a battlefield. His army has, like 6 cavalrymen, and he still goes out and fights. Facing down an army on horseback when you’re on the ground will not end well. This decision is so stupid and destined to fail it’s funny. The Chinese Army doesn’t even have gunpowder or ranged weapons aside from archers, which the bad guys have, too. (Even though China had gunpowder at the time of the Silk Roads.) Anyway, the whopping 6 cavalrymen all die, and Mulan decides to go after the twelve horsemen who killed them. She follows them, at a slow pace, into a geothermal area where the horsemen have disappeared and she fights the witch. She is on what I’m guessing is a buildup of sulfur or other minerals, and we see it beginning to crack. There is a shot devoted to showing that the ground is breaking. Rather than using this to her advantage while fighting the witch, Mulan gets thrown against a wall. All she had to do was to plunge her sword into the ground. She might die, but she’d at least take the witch with her. After fighting Mulan, the witch turns into a bunch of small birds and goes to “attack” the Chinese Army. She turns the movie into Birdemic temporarily, and the army hides out under their shields. They are literally being dive-bombed by sparrows. Worst case scenario they have a few scratches. Then Mulan, rather than going after the twelve horsemen she was after in the first place, decides to go help her friends who she doesn’t know are in real danger. She gets the enemy soldiers to shoot their catapult at her, but the operator is off by 2,000 feet at least. He shoots nowhere near where he thinks the enemy is. He is so off of his target that it’s funny. Mulan returns to her friends and has to leave, but would rather be executed than sent home. She doesn’t consider that her family might want her back alive, and instead wants to die. (She later gets praised for her devotion to her family. And while this is trying to make a point about honor, we never see exactly what dishonor does to a family. The characters say dishonor is bad, but we don’t know why.) Anyway, Mulan then meets the witch again, who says that Bhori Khan is going to take the Imperial City and kill the emperor. That is all that the witch says. This is basically what Bhori Khan’s plan would have been in the first place. He’s trying to conquer China. He’ll probably go for the capital city and the ruler. But Mulan takes this to mean that Bhori Khan and his army are at the gates of the Imperial City, and no army is close enough to stop them. I have no idea how she arrived at this conclusion. Upon being told that the people conquering China were going to take over the center of power, without being given a specific time frame as to when this will happen, Mulan somehow believes that Bhori Khan is right outside the Imperial City and that no one is close enough to stop them. HOW DID SHE COME UP WITH THIS? She manages to get her 6 friends to go help defend the city.(Note-six people will be no help against an invading army.) There’s already a small army inside the city, and then six people show up to help. It’s so pathetic when they show it in the movie. The emperor gets kidnapped and taken to this building that is currently being constructed. Bhori Khan decides to burn him alive by tying him to the top of the building, then he melts metal? He has a vat of melted metal and then three pipes of fire. First of all, it’s impossible to get metal heated to the point where it is liquid without proper equipment. Bhori Khan didn’t have any equipment. Also, what was his plan? Was he going to let the melting metal catch the building on fire? He could have just set the building on fire but instead he wanted molten metal to slowly catch it on fire. Seriously. The molten metal is so random that it’s funny. IT LITERALLY HAS NO PURPOSE TO BE THERE EXCEPT TO DESTROY MULAN’S SWORD AND IT’S SO LAZY. I thought that Bhori Khan was going to pour molten metal down the emperor’s throat, because that happened in history before. But no. The metal is just randomly there. Then Mulan and Bhori Khan fight. The end fight is literally the fight in the blacksmith shop in Pirates of the Caribbean but in a building. Melting metal? Check. Balancing on the rafters? Check. Sword fight? Check. Characters launching themselves up and grabbing onto said rafters? Check. In the end, to kill Bhori Khan, the emperor grabs an arrow and uses Mulan for an assist combo kill. He literally tosses her an arrow so she can kick it. It was really stupid. The end where Mulan returns home is okay. That’s it.

The humor was not great. The one lighthearted, “funny” scene was that of Mulan getting ready for the Matchmaker, and it felt really out of place. There were some fun moments, but not much. One of the “jokes” was when one of the characters, a young, innocent boy started crying at the beginning of training. To me, this was a really relatable moment. This kid had been forced to leave home and had to train very hard under the impending threat of death. Anyone might have cried in that moment. Then the general went “Is he crying?” like that was ridiculous. It was supposed to be a joke, but that moment was literally the most connected I ever felt to any character and they made it out like his crying was stupid. I felt attacked. This movie had very little personality. The characters had very little personality. They weren’t relatable in the slightest, and when they were, they were shunned for it. Any of the strong characters, like Mulan, were special and basically had magic. It was a decent action movie, but it tried too hard to remind fans of the original. If they had tried to make it their own war movie about a girl who had to hide her skills and overcome the sexism of Ancient China while fighting in a war against a witch, it could have been okay. However, they tried to include scenes from the original that didn’t work with the tone or concept. For instance, Mulan creates an avalanche by tricking enemy soldiers into shooting a catapult at her. This shows that she might be smart, but she doesn’t think about using the terrain to her advantage when fighting the witch. She could have broken the ground, or at the very least hidden in the steam around her and used surprise. The avalanche scene is the only scene where Mulan uses her smarts, and it’s only in the movie because it was in the original. Basically Disney tried to fuse their vision with enough scenes from the original to keep fans happy. It did not work. The only sad scenes were the ones that were supposed to be funny, and the sad and dark scenes were actually pretty hilarious. The end result? Disney lost $130 million.

#movies #movie review #mulan #mulan 2020 #disney #disney live action

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haiky-u-lously · 4 years ago

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King Kuroo and the Red Knight (8)

Summary:

A Camelot AU where King Arthur is Kuroo Tetsuro, and the Knights of the Roundtable of characters from seasons 1-4 of the HQ anime. Eventual Kuroo X Reader.

Themes:

Action/fighting/killing, dead bodies, Fluff, Angst, Humor, Eventual Romance

Warnings:

Mentions of stalking and abuse of power, Language, Angst in feelings, Gore and fighting, mention of explosion, mention of seeing dead bodies

Word Count:

For Chapter: ~2700words

Questions/Comments/Concerns/Ideas welcome as always.

So let me just say, I am an actual idiot. Like, not only are the twins not third years, but neither are 3 of my favorites to write for in this story. Like Futa, Teru and Aone are all actually second years as well as the twins! And, this, this was facts that I knew! How ridiculous is that, huh? I just deemed 5 second years third years in my mind in order to include them. Oh well though hahah.

I'm not changing the characters. I just changed the descriptions hahah.

Anywho, Hope you all liked the random/differentness that was this chapter.

Let me know your thoughts and such, i love getting comments on this and have been trying pretty hard to respond every time (whether on AO3 or tumblr).

Enjoy!

–Admin Red

Chapter 8: Enemy Meeting

Daishou stepped away from the slain body, a smile on his features as he moved towards the main hall of the castle, to await meeting with the King and others.

He’d passed a few windows overlooking the front square and did a double take at the amount of bodies littered on Camelot’s grounds.

‘This can’t be!’ His thoughts shouted at him. Looking over the fallen he counted less than twenty palace guards. Not a single knight of Camelot, nor the Red Knight or their squire. ‘What happened? We had surprise on our side! How did none of them die?!’

Daishou, in his anger, flared his hands and mini explosions were heard as his power crashed into the sides of the wall near them. He took a few breaths to calm himself before moving on, readying his mind to take the idiotic King’s prideful boasting and his knights’ encouraging about the oh-so-great power of Camelot. Gagging a bit, he made to the room he’d intended to reach from the get go.

Not seeing any sign of his actual enemies having failed in their defenses on his trek to the center of the castle made the Lord’s mood sour further, but when he entered the War Hall to see it empty he’d regained some confidence. “Mayhaps the idiots needed help in the South. Hopefully a few were cut down.”

Hearing some scuffle, Daishou stopped speaking to himself and cursed a spell on the door to see who passed, listening in on the conversation held by the approaching group.

“I will be telling our King about your recklessness, let him deal with your stupidity.” The silver haired guest said, anger clear on his face as he walked in front of the Red Knight. “That was actually the worst decision you could have possibly had. Jumping into the middle of the fray from a hole in the third story. Are you that much of an idiot? That eager to fight? Idiot. Absolute imbecile and the undisputed champion of stupid decision making. You will not receive breakfast tomorrow either. Take that as a punishment. See if I leave you any chocolates in your baggage either.”

Daishou watched as the Knight was clearly displeased with the stolen sweet comment the most as he reached out and stopped his companion directly in front of the mirrored door the Lord had generated.

The squire turned once he was brought to a halt. “Fine, I won’t take your stupid chocolates. But I will come up with two additional punishments to your not getting breakfast.”

Nodding in acceptance, the Red Knight motioned for his squire to continue moving.

“Actually, I have a question.” The King’s servant faced the pair, letting Daishou continue his eavesdropping as none moved from his portal view. Futakuchi faced the pair, “You agreed to participate in the festival the King proposed as a make-shift apology. But didn’t speak to your squire before accepting to be fighters. Which really does make it seem like you may just be impatient to fight, but here is my question. And, I hope you take no offense to it. But, is it really enough that he put on a tournament to appease the grievances done against you?”

Though he only had a slight understanding of what the servant referred to, Daishou was honestly awaiting an answer as well. If the actions towards the pair were so unjust that they’d considered leaving their mission unfinished, why could something so simple turn the tide.

The squire looked to his Knight before facing the servant once more, apparently answering for the pair. “Though this is the first I’ve heard of it, I can tell you now that Yomimasu’s intentions are not about the fighting aspect. Though I guess I am the one who just said they were eager to fight…” He seemed to think a moment before continuing, “After we left the dinning hall and returned to our current rooms, we discussed things. And, we came to the decision that you all had just as much a point in being upset with us as we’d gotten with you. We are guests of Camelot, despite any pretense of our mission or who we are in the Red Knight Order, that is who we are here. Guests. And, upon our arrival we gave demands with hardly any explanation. Then continued to demand privacy for our belongings. Having wanted to keep a secret the lineage amongst us. Since we were as much to blame about a bad start, the two of us determined the best course of action was to make amends first thing in the morning. Neither of us expected tonight’s outcome. And if given the chance to rectify our initial opinions of one another so soon, I can see why the Red Knight would agree without consulting me.”

Apparently Futakuchi accepted the explanation, because Daishou watched the three leave his field of vision and no longer heard their conversations.

He cursed that the pair obviously helped in the fight, and cursed further that someone had fired a shot warning those inside to the attack earlier than had they just stormed the castle as directed.

_______________________________

“Kuroo, please excuse my sudden shift in decision, but I’ve just been called by another Lord to assist with a problem down south. My journey will not permit me to be here for your tournament.” Daishou commented to his half-brother amidst the celebratory drinks the Knights of Camelot were having in the War Hall.

The King just smiled at the Lord, “Of course! Do you need anyone to assist in your journey, brother?”

Smiling over a thinly veiled scowl, Daishou shook his head, “Thank you for the offer, your Highness. But recusing myself from the tournament could already be a slight towards your guests, and I’d hate to make it worse by taking some of your best and most entertaining knights.” The pair of men laughed at the joke before the Lord continued his practiced lie, “Besides, Camelot is just coming off of a strong win in defending her walls. Let the men enjoy themselves.”

“Your concern for their happiness is well noted, and much appreciated, Daishou. I’m just sorry I didn’t think to send someone to you in the heat of the battle. I never thought they’d stray to your part of the castle.” Kuroo seemed to be thoroughly apologetic, but he quickly resumed grinning and held his goblet up to stand for a toast, “Men! Let us cheer! To the power of Camelot’s forces, to your power, and to the prosperity of a great tournament to come!”

“Yes!”

“CHEERS!”

“To Camelot!”

“To victory!”

“To the fight!”

“To the King!”

Different shouts were heard across the room. But once someone shouted to the king, the rest followed. Until Daishou whispered under his breath, in a way only he could hear himself amongst all the joyous rokous, “Yes, to the true King of Camelot.”

_________________________________

Days later, Daishou was facing the ruins of a century old castle atop his perfect steed.

The horse whinnied at the overwhelming dark presence before it and reared as he took a few paces back. Obviously fearful of the unseen energy before him.

Dismounting and tying his steed to a post, Daishou made his own way into the castle’s grounds.

“You’re late.” A voice called to him from the shadows of the interior square.

Facing the caller before responding, Daishou smiled, “Yes, well. You couldn’t very well expect me to lead the men the King had following me here, could you?”

“Does the idiot King actually have a brain cell to distrust you?” The man commented back, sticking to the shadows until hearing a preferred answer.

Camelot’s Lord laughed out towards the sky, “Never, he wanted me to have extra protection as I have gone to help our ally.”

“He really is the stupidest King to take Camelot’s throne,” The male voiced as he finally stepped into the light shining into the square. “I take it you bring news too delicate to message?”

Nodding, the Lord motioned for his companion to lead them somewhere they could sit comfortably while they spoke.

__________________________________

“Daishou, I thought only one Red Knight and a squire came to Camelot?” The light-brown-haired male questioned, “And, you said Ushijima and Asahi, two of Camelot’s strongest, were not there. We held the element of surprise, and yet only twenty men made it back to the strong hold. Twenty, out of eight-hundred. What the hell happened?”

Daishou winced at the tone he was being addressed with, but recovered quickly as he’d expected the reaction, “One of the men ruined the art of surprise by blowing a hole in the castle wall directly in view of the square where the main forces were targeting. I imagine only three-hundred ever made it inside the castle from that poor decision. And the knights had been spread out, the fight became child’s play to them.” He scowled as he recalled the bodies littered in the front of Camelot’s main gate and thought of the guests who fought in Camelot’s defense even after being scorned by the so-called-King. “The Red Knight and his man were the most bothersome though. Killing nearly a third of forces between just them two. How is that possible? You didn’t tell me they’d be that strong.”

The partner’s eyes blew back in surprise, hearing how many men fell to the hands of his old home’s people, getting a strange look on his face after he thought for a moment. “What can you tell me of the Red Knight? Or rather, his squire since I assume he hasn’t revealed much of anything of himself yet.”

“May I, Oikawa?” The Lord questioned, hand already reaching for the head of the person sitting next to him.

Nodding his allowance, the male kept his head stationary, as to accept the visual memories of his companion.

Daishou whispered a phrase beneath his breath and Oikawa’s head shot back as visions filled his mind of just who had attended Camelot as a squire to the Red Knight in visiting Camelot.

When the pair separated, both had heaving chests, as they were trying to regulate their breathing after an intense trade of magic.

“No, it couldn’t have been…” Oikawa whispered to himself.

“You know him?” Daishou questioned as he scooted further in his seat away from his supposed companion.

Oikawa shook his head, “I knew him when I lived with the Order. But he’d never left his cousin’s side. I can’t imagine who'd he follow out to Camelot. And to have him, one of the smartest Knights in the Order regulated to nothing but a squire, must mean this Red Knight is in a class of their own. I can’t imagine who it would be though.” The circling thoughts seemed to attack Oikawa’s mind as his eyes moved from side to side in his confusion, his voice dissipated into nothing as he spoke in circles, and he fell deaf to Daishou’s calls.

Before he let the confusion last too long, Daishou leaned in and captured Oikawa’s lips with his own, kissing the man back to his own self. When the Lord felt the kiss being returned with twice as much force, he pulled away. “I don’t mind, whatever the issue. Just let me in on it so I can help. We want the same thing. You to be knighted in Camelot, and I to sit upon the throne. These things will only come to pass if you let me in though.”

“Yes, you are correct.” Oikawa recognized before sighing deeply and explaining to the best of his ability. “Before I was exiled from the Order, that man, the squire, his name is Sugawara. He was on a fast track to become the youngest Red Knight since the King’s grandfather. Everyone praised his intelligence, ability to stay calm, and to keep others refreshed in the heat of battle. But, his downfall is that he wouldn’t leave his cousin’s side. She was the Princess, and for a time we were all close. But, when my mother tried to assassinate the King, and she just happened to get hurt playing with me the next day, the King took it to mean I was trying to kill her. She didn’t believe that was the case and convinced her father to exile me instead of killing me, but in my rage I attacked Sugawara. I left with everyone believing I was a traitor. But no one held more control over Sugawara than the Princess. And her father was adamant she’d never be a Red Knight. I recall that in journeys, the one presented as the Red Knight is supposed to be the strongest, while the one presented as the squire is still technically a Red Knight, just not as strong. With all their rules about not talking and such, it makes sense to have someone free to discuss openly with others. If Sugawara is demoted to squire for this journey, I have no clue who could be marked as the Red Knight. Had I known it was Sugawara fighting, I would have drastically changed things, maybe as far as recalling the attack order.”

Daishou had to take a few moments to process everything he’d just heard. He’d try to start a comment back multiple times, but every one of them failed as the words got caught in his throat or his mind wandered to trying to prioritize a different idea. It was a full five minutes until he’d responded coherently.

“So, these Knights could prove to be worse adversaries than anyone in Camelot?” He asked tentatively.

“Yes.” Oikawa responded matter-of-factly.

Daishou shook his head, and stood to pace a bit, “If Camelot ends up reconnecting with them, and gets the Order on his side, things would be even harder, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes,” Oikawa repeated in the exact same manner.

“Then we have no choice,” Daishou turned to face the sitting male, “We must rebuild our forces, and come up with a plan that will utterly destroy each the Red Knight, his squire, and Camelot’s Knights before the King gets his wish of reuniting with the order.”

Looking up at the smiling face of his companion, Oikawa thought he saw the outline of a horned serpent. The evil thoughts protruding from his mind clear for anyone to see, just as his own once were.

“Agreed, but for now, we should take the time provided to us by your deceit to Kuroo. How long can you stay this time?”

“Perhaps a week.” Daishou answered off handedly, already thinking through different attack strategies. “Do you think we could call upon the Sphinx? He owes us for getting his stupidly simple riddle correct last time. Mayhaps he would devour the idiots of Camelot for us.”

Oikawa shook his head before he went to the side of his companion, wrapped his arms around the dark-haired male’s waist and whispered in his ear, “Mayhaps, it is time to retire this line of thought for another day and to go relax and...catch up.”

Daishou half turned to face the smiling light-haired man leaning against his backside. He grinned back, “Agreed, we can discuss Camelot’s and Kuroo’s downfall tomorrow.”

The pair entered the passages leading inside the castle’s ruins, neither male regarding the rolling dark clouds approaching their hideout as they ignored the outside world for a few hours.

_____________________________________

“Oikawa,” Daishou called his retreating partner from atop his steed, “You harbor no feelings towards the members of the Order, correct? Because if you do, all of this is for naught. Tell me now, was all this for nothing?”

The light-haired brunette thought of his old home, everyone he knew as a young boy, and how his life progressed since being exiled. “The only person I would ever listen to from the Order would never leave. There is no doubt in my mind, when we strike Camelot next time, they won’t stand in our way. You will be King, Daishou.”

“And you, a proper knight. Until we meet again, Oikawa.” The Lord responded before kicking his horse in high gear and dashing deep into the forest, returning at once to Camelot after more than a week gone.

_______________________________________________

Table of contents:

Chapter 7 Chapter 9

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deadlybeautydbz · 4 years ago

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Little Moments

So, the anon asking me the other day about 17 and 18 fic recs got me thinking. I wanted to write something for you, anon, but for a little while I was stumped as to what. So I took inspiration from my own life for this one. I myself have a twin brother and we’re both parents, so I asked myself, what does hanging out with my brother look like, and I give you this.

17 and 18 washing dishes.

You wanted random sibling hangs, here you go, with the most random hang of all. Really though, this is what hanging out as adults, siblings, parents looks like for us and I’m pretty happy with this for something I whipped up in a day. I hope ya’ll enjoy!

Little Moments:

“That’s the last of them gone,” 17 said, his voice thick with relief as he walked into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Who would have known twenty 7 year olds would be such a handful.”

He had just closed the door on last straggling guest of his oldest son, Onyx, 7th birthday party. He’d cheerfully waved goodbye as he watched the boy and his mother wander off down the driveway, party bag and balloon clutched firmly in hand. He felt kind of guilty, sending that child home hopped up to his eyeballs on sugar, but the guilt was short lived, birthday parties we meant to be fun-filled sugar trips.

“Literally everyone, 17” 18, who was seated at the table in the centre of the kitchen, nursing a mug of rapidly cooling tea, replied. “Literally everyone knows that. Why do you think I only have one?”

“You should give Marron a brother or sister.” 17 said offhandedly, as he began the arduous task of putting his house back together post child-birthday-party-chaos. “It’d be good for her.”

“Hmmm,” 18 stood up from the table and reached for an empty garbage bag. She moved about the kitchen, filling it with plastic plates and cups, deflated balloons and discarded wrapping paper. “Maybe,” she mused. “I’d be lying if I said we hadn’t thought about it. The timing never seems quite right though, and Marron was such a fussy baby, I don’t know if I have it in me to go back to the baby stage and do all that again. It’s so nice that she’s older and more independent now.”

“Of course you could do it again!” 17 said as he pushed furniture around the room, putting things back as they were meant to be. “You’re a great mum. Mare-bear is lucky to have you. Does she miss that old lump of sand you used to call home?”

“Hey,” 18’s brow crinkled as she only half-feigned hurt. “We all liked that lump of sand. A lot of good things happened to us there.”

“I know, I know, I’m kidding,” 17 teased “It was a fine sandbank.”

“Shut up,” 18 laughed. “You can hardly talk, all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.” She knew 17 was just trying to rile her up, that was just what brothers, especially hers, did. It didn’t matter how many years passed, or that he was now a husband, a father and a well-respected conservationist, he was an eternal man-child at heart. It was no wonder he got along with Goku so well. “She doesn’t seem to miss it too much these days,” 18 said, bringing their conversation back on track. “It’s been what,” she paused to quickly do the math, “three years now since Krillin joined the force, three and a half almost. She’ll always be an ocean girl at heart, but she’s happy in the city. It was the best thing we could’ve done for her really.”

Having filled the rubbish bag as much as she could, 18 tied a knot at the top, and placed it beside the side door, ready for disposal outside later, before turning her attention to the pile of dishes stacked up precariously beside the sink.

“You don’t have to do those,” 17 stepped in, but his sister was having none of it. “Don’t be silly,” she replied whilst squirting a generous amount of dish soap into the sink and silently patting herself on the back for buying a house with a dishwasher. “You and Amya hosted us all day, the least I can do is help tidy up. Tell you what, I’ll wash, you dry.”

“Deal,” 17 smiled. It was so rare to get to spend any sort of quality time with his sister these days, they were both so busy and their schedules always seemed to clash, so he would happily take whatever he could get, even if it was as mundane as standing together at his kitchen sink, washing dishes.

They stood quietly together for a moment, silently passing wet plates and glasses between themselves. From where they stood, they could look out into 17’s lush, tree filled yard, where Krillin was running around like an absolute mad-man, laughing and shouting with Marron and her three cousins. His love and exuberance never ceased to amaze 18. He was going to be forty soon, and yet there he was, after spending an entire afternoon entertaining a gaggle of under-10’s, still going, giving even more of himself to those kids out there, each of whom he loved more than anything else in this world – except maybe for her.

“He’s a good guy, Krillin,” 17 broke the quiet with an observation, “You chose well with him.”

“I know,” 18 smiled smugly. She liked hearing that she was right. “But you’ve certainly changed your tune over the years.

It was far from a secret that 17 hadn’t exactly been a fan of Krillin in the beginning. As a suitor for his sister, it just didn’t seem to fit. Why would he, of all people, be interested in her when he knew what he did about how, and why, she had come to be in this world? 17 was convinced that he must have had some nefarious ulterior motive.

“What can I say” he shrugged, “I’m a big enough man to admit when I’m wrong. He’s a good guy.”

“He’s the best” 18 smiled as her eyes followed her husband across the yard. “Ugh,” 17 groaned “You’re still in puppy-love with him after all this time. Get a room, my god, yuck.” “As if you can talk!” 18 shot back, trying desperately to hide her embarrassment. “I see the way you look at Amya. You’re completely smitten with her!” “Of course I am!” 17 boasted proudly. “I mean, have you seen her?! She’s a solid ten outta ten. And she’s smart as hell, and she puts up with my shit on the daily. Every day I wonder how the hell I ever convinced her to marry me!” “She’s certainly way out of your league, that’s for sure.” “Ouch, that hurts sis” “Oh, don’t be such a baby,” 18 grinned and flicked soapy water in her brother’s direction.

A high pitched squeal from the garden caught the twins’ attention, ending their mild bullying of each other. They both snapped their heads up to inspect the situation and their respective children, looking for any obvious signs of hurt of injury, and to see which kid it was exactly, that was getting out of hand. It could have been any one of them really, given the unfettered access to sugar they had had this afternoon. “They’ll be right,” 18 said, confident no bones were broken out there, as she resumed washing the dishes in the sink. “Krillin is more than capable of keeping the four of them under control.”

17 shook his head and laughed, “I think you’re seriously under-estimating how rowdy my lot can be. They just seem to leech energy off each other. They never stop!” “He deals with criminals every day, I think he can handle a couple of kids.” “Whatever you say, sis,” 17 mumbled and shrugged his shoulders. “Personally, I’d take the crooks over those terrors any day of the week.”

As she handed her brother another clean dish, 18 asked. “No more for you guys either then, I’m guessing? It seems like you have your hands full.” “I wouldn’t say that,” 17 replied. “They’re a lot of fun, and Am would definitely be down for more, but it’s hard enough with the three of them with my schedule, and her research. I don’t know how she manages with them by herself while I’m away.” “It’s probably easier without you here riling them up all day” 18 joked “You kid, but let’s be real, you’re probably right!” 17 had to agree. “I’m basically her fourth child. I’m sure her life is much less chaotic when I’m not around.” “She loves the chaos, I’m sure.”

Handing 17 the last clean dish, 18 pulled the plug from the sink and watched the water gurgle down the drain. She wiped down the sink and dried her hands before flicking the kettle on to make herself another cup of tea. She pulled down two clean mugs and poured one for 17 too. He smiled and gladly took it from her and they sat down together at the table.

“If we did have more, we’d definitely adopt again,” 17 picked up his train of thought as he sipped his tea. “It was so rewarding giving River and Storm a second chance. I’d like to that again if I could.”

The story of how the now 4 year old twins River and Storm had found their way into 17 and Amya’s life was nothing short of remarkable. 17 had found them, abandoned as infants, less than six months old, in the nature park where he worked. He had taken them in, and taken them home. Much to his wife’s surprise, he had walked through the door one day, carrying an infant in each arm, and just like that, 17 and Amya had become parents to three kids under the age of three.

“And you know, getting as many kids out of the system as possible can only be a good thing. Stop them ending up, like, y’know…” he faulted for a moment “like us.” He stopped, waiting for his sister to respond, but she didn’t, she just sat, staring at her hands, not even able to look him in the eye. “Do you ever wonder if there is anyone out there missing us?”

“Don’t” 18 quickly interjected, her voice soft and wistful. “I can’t. I have to think that we weren’t wanted.” She stopped to sip her tea and think about what she wanted to say next. “The alternative, as a mother, is so much worse. Having your child ripped away from you, I can’t even comprehend it.”

That was, deep down, the real reason why Marron was an only child. 18 was so protective of her daughter, and the thought of having to split that devotion between two children, was terrifying. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to constantly have eyes on two children. Tying herself up with the demands of a newborn would surely mean having to accept the fact that there would be times that Marron would need to be left alone and that scared 18 to her core. She would never, ever forgive herself if anything happened to her precious child.

“How do you do it?” 18 asked, “How do you leave them without being terrified of all the things that could happen to them? That happened to us?” “You’ve just gotta back yourself in, sis” 17 leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms over his head. “Your job as a parent is to slowly back yourself out of your kid’s life and let them work it out on their own.”

At that moment, the side door swung open and a barrage of kid sized arms and legs tumbled though, followed by an exhausted looking Krillin. “It’s starting to get cold out there,” he exclaimed, shutting the door behind him. The kids quickly disappeared into the living room, to undoubtedly rip into, and probably break, all of Onyx’s gifts from the party. Much to their dismay though, they had already been safely packed away by Amya, who was just walking into the kitchen as the kids rushed out. “They are going to be completely feral when that sugar wears off. Hey, you guys didn’t have to tidy up in here.” She smiled as she noticed that her kitchen was once again sparkling clean.

“It was no bother,” 18 said with a smile. She truly loved Amya, she was such a kind and compassionate person, she was reasonable and level headed and truly balanced out 17’s more impulsive tendencies. She was so glad they had found each other.

She watched Krillin as he moved through the kitchen, towards her. He planted a kiss on top of her head before taking a seat beside her at the table. She smiled at him in return and rested her hand on his thigh. The afternoon had been hectic, with all four adults being pulled in different directions, supervising kids, cooking food, running party games, taking pictures, making sure no one ate anything they were allergic to, or tried to drink water from the dog bowls. 18 had hardly seen her husband all afternoon and she quickly realised she’d missed him.

Once upon a time, a moment like this would be seemed all but impossible to 18. She looked across at 17 and saw her thoughts mirrored back in his eyes. He was content and happy and soaking in every detail. He caught 18 looking at him and shared a smile back, he knew they were thinking the same thing.

While the big, grand gestures of life were amazing, it was the inconspicuous little moments that meant the most to them. Cosy afternoons in with family. Quiet conversations about nothing. A passing smile or I love you. This was one of those moments, unassuming and meek, but something they had both fought so hard to obtain. A swell of emotion rose up into 18’s throat and for a moment she almost felt overwhelmed with warmth and happiness. She was truly grateful to be alive to experience this moment, this completely normal, utterly mundane, human moment.

---

Should I upload this to the prompt collection or nah? Does it fit the feel of it? I’d love to know what you think, cause I’m human and a sucker for reviews!

Hope you liked this one guys, likes, comments, shares as always, are greatly appreciated.

What should I write next?? Lemme know!!

#Android 18 #android 17 #Android Eighteen #android seventeen #juuhachigou #Juunanagou #dragonball z #dbz #dragonball super #dragon ball super #dbs #krillin #marron #kuririn #fanfiction #fanfic #dbz fanfic #writing #deadlybeautyfanfiction

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927roses-and-stuff · 5 years ago

Text

Miracles in Gotham: Chapter One: Strings of Fate

Hey, guys! This fic is inspired by @ozmav’s Maribat AU. Shoutout to @mystery-5-5 for brainstorming ideas with me for this fic. Hopefully, you guys enjoy it!

It’s only been a few hours since I posted the prologue, and I’ve already received such wonderful feedback! Thank you to anyone who took the time to read and/or like/reblog/comment/gave kudos to this!

I know it seems very Mlbverse-centric right now, but I have to set up some of the conflicts somehow, amirite? Trust me, you’ll only have to deal with Paris for like one more chapter.

If you want to see more, follow: #miraclesingotham

P.S. I refuse to believe that the ladybug-themed egg is the actual form of the Miracle Box. Nope, no way.

Tag list (if anyone wants that to be a thing):

@northernbluetongue

First Next Fanfic

Chapter One: Strings of Fate

Dear Diary,

Everything’s been so different without Master Fu. I’ve heard from Marianne that he’s healthy and doing well. I’m happy that he gets to be free from the Miraculous and living happily with the love of his life, but would it be selfish to wish that he were still around to guide me? It’s been a total disaster since I’ve become the new Guardian. Chloé’s anger at Ladybug makes it impossible to go a day without an akuma; much less since Lila Rossi decides to provoke her at every turn.

Honestly, what is wrong with that girl? She’s even more irritating than Chloé, if you ever thought that was possible.

But, diary, I’ve noticed that Hawkmoth’s become more strategic with his akumas. I think handing out the other Miraculous was a mistake. I’m sure it’s because Hawkmoth now knows the identity of the others that he’s been targeting our class almost exclusively.

This is why I’ve always said that secret identities were important. Now that they’ve all been discovered, I doubt I can entrust them without harming them and their loved ones.

I wish I could write more and reflect on my emotions like Master Fu told me to, but I hear an akuma calling my name.

Bisoux,

Marinette

________________________________________________________________

“So, chaton, who are we fighting this time?” Ladybug asked as she landed outside of the Louvre.

“So glad to be here in your presence. Ladybug, here comes the lovely Princess Fragrance!” He quipped as he dodged a zombified civilian rushing at him.

“Rhyming, Chat Noir?” Ladybug laughed as she jumped up, making two of the zombies crash into one another. “Are you sure you haven’t been caught in Princess Fragrance’s traps?”

Chat laughed and leapt to her side, using his baton to bat away at the incoming civilians. “Maybe just a whiff.”

She scanned around quickly, looking for green skin, pink hair, or her gothic black dress. When she found nothing, she grabbed Chat Noir by the waist, and projected her yoyo on one of the Louvre’s chimneys.

“Well, wake up and smell the roses, chaton. We better go find her Royal Highness!” Ladybug said as she grabbed onto Chat’s waist and swung away from the incoming hoard of civilians. She watched as they toppled over each other, desperately grabbing at the sky.

Chat winced at the sight also. “Me-ouch! Seems like their loyalty’s deadly.”

They landed on the roof and Ladybug straightened, letting go of Chat. She sighed.

“Let’s go before it turns into a bloodbath.”

Chat nodded. “Princess Fragrance was headed to the Pont des Arts last I saw her.”

“Do you know why she got akumatized this time?”

“Not really. Maybe it had something to do with the Prince again.”

Ladybug sighed. Poor Rose and her fragile heart. “I guess. Well, hopefully she doesn’t break anymore hearts.”

When they arrived, Princess Fragrance was seated upon the shoulders of Luka and Anarka Couffaine. Behind her was an army of their classmates, standing in silence and waiting for their orders. At her feet was Juleka, looking up at her and pleading. They managed to catch the end of Princess Fragrance’s declaration before Chat tackled Juleka and rolled away just as perfume was sprayed.

Princess Fragrance screeched. “You will not get away from me, my Princess! Minions, after the mangy cat!”

Ladybug’s eyes widened as she watched her classmates charge towards Chat and Juleka in unison. Jumping into the fray, Ladybug twirled her yoyo into a shield and yelled at Chat behind her.

“Hurry up and get Juleka away from here, while I distract them!”

“But, Ladybug-”

“Just go!”

Chat looked from Ladybug, who was slowly being overrun by Princess Fragrance’s minions, to Juleka in his arms. Making a decision, he carefully set her down and whispered at her to run when she was ready, before joining in the battlefield. He jumped in front of Ladybug and swung his baton, knocking out half of them.

“Sorry, Ladybug. I’m not going to leave you alone.”

Ladybug huffed, but didn’t have time to check on Juleka as the minions recovered and charged towards them even more aggressively. Ladybug swung her yoyo, making sure it wrapped around one of the farther lamp posts before swinging across the crowd, making sure to kick some of them down. When she landed, she searched for Princess Fragrance.

Where could she have gone? She was here a second ago.

She quickly scanned the area before she spotted her, racing down the bridge followed by Luka and Anarka. They were now behind the crowd that Chat Noir was still struggling against and Juleka was slowing down by the looks of it. If Ladybug didn’t hurry soon, she’d be captured next.

Hurriedly, Ladybug swung over the crowd again, making sure to grab Chat Noir on the way.

“Thank you, bugaboo. Now, I think it’s time to pull the ace up our sleeve, right?”

Ladybug nodded. “Lucky Charm!”

A spool of red yarn dropped in her hands.

“What the heck am I supposed to do with this?” Ladybug asked as she scrutinized the object. Sighing, she ran towards Juleka and Princess Fragrance, hoping to at least prevent further damage. She was hurrying so much, that she barely heard Chat shout something about fate and strings.

With a thud, she managed to push Luka and Anarka away, before landing on her feet. Not even a second passed before Princess Fragrance kicked her in the chest and she rolled away. Luckily, Chat caught her before she fell headfirst, but she could already feel the bruises forming.

She could only watch as Princess Fragrance approached Juleka who shook in place.

“Don’t worry, my love,” Rose said. “Nothing can tear us apart now. We will be together forever.”

Ladybug watched in horror as Princess Fragrance reached up to caress Juleka’s cheek. Her earring beeped. She had to hurry.

What was it that Chat had said? Strings and fate?

She glanced down at the spool of yarn in her hand.

Oh.

The red string of fate.

Ladybug stood up and rushed in between the two girls, tying one end of the string on each of their fingers. Princess Fragrance and Juleka jerked back in surprise.

“What is the meaning of this?”

Ladybug glanced to Juleka nervously and winked, hoping she would play along. “You’re right, Princess Fragrance! With this red string of fate, you and Juleka can now be together forever! It is said that the red string ties soulmates together in an unbreakable bond.”

Princess Fragrance squealed. “I knew it, I knew it!”

Ladybug watched as Chat snuck behind Princess Fragrance and snatched at the perfume bottle in her belt. However, the bottle accidentally sprayed and Chat started to sing praises to Princess Fragrance.

Princess Fragrance turned around, then turned back to Ladybug scandalized. “Wait! This was a trick! You don’t think my princess and I are meant to be at all! You just wanted to take her away from me! You-!”

Before she said anything else, Ladybug had already untied Juleka from the other end and dragged Princess Fragrance closer to her. Before she could attempt anything, Ladybug spun her around and around until the yarn had effectively tied her up.

Juleka rushed over to Princess Fragrance and grabbed the perfume bottle, giving it to Ladybug. She quickly purified it and untied Rose before enacting the Miraculous Cure.

She knelt down beside Juleka, making sure that Rose wasn’t too disoriented from the attack. True to the Cure, everyone else was waking up from their slumber, and any of the injured were instantly healed.

However, Marinette knew that each one of them remembered; something even the Miraculous Cure couldn’t fully erase. All of them remembered; except for the victim.

“Hey,” she said softly, brushing aside Rose’s bangs to reveal her teary eyes. “What happened? This was the third time this week.”

When Rose couldn’t do anything but sniffle and curl into Juleka’s embrace, Juleka replied, “It’s been a rough week for her. Chloe’s anger makes her more nervous than she lets on. We bumped into Lila who complimented us today and Chloe happened to be nearby and told Rose that no one would really love her.”

Ladybug frowned. Already, she knew that no other result could’ve come from having Chloe and Lila in the same vicinity.

She watched Juleka rub Rose’s back softly and murmur sweet words of comfort. Ladybug awkwardly patted Rose’s back twice before she stood up. Her earring beeped again, and she stood up.

“Look, I’ve noticed that your classmates have been targeted more recently. I’ll try to see what’s going on, but my advice is to stick together. Even if people you don’t like taunt you, make sure you support each other.”

Juleka nodded. “Thank you. We know you can help us.”

Ladybug forced herself to smile. “Of course.”

With that, she swung away and hid in a random alley. Before she de-transformed, she sent Chat a quick message to meet up later at the Eiffel Tower.

________________________________________________________________

When she finally returned to her room, she was greeted by a multitude of kwamis: Pollen. Trixx, Sass, Longg, and Wayzz. Each of the kwamis sat upon their customized jewelry boxes that doubled as a bed and a miraculous container.

“Welcome home, Marinette!”

Marinette smile at them, setting down a bowl of food she had taken from the kitchen. “Hey guys. I bet you’re hungry, feel free to dig in!”

She watched as the kwamis fervently dived into the bowl, eating as much as their tiny stomachs could feel. Glancing to her closet, she could envision the other kwamis entrapped in the Miracle Box, isolated from their world.

Marinette wasn’t too sure why, but when Master Fu gave up his guardianhip, the Miracle Box had transformed into a red and black polka-dotted egg. She hadn’t thought too much of it then, but she later realized that the box was locked. As far as she or the kwamis knew, it was inaccessible. Marinette watched as the kwamis floated over their jewelry boxes. She sighed, feeling unprepared for the future of being a Guardian ahead of her; she still couldn’t believe that Master Fu was gone, but the future didn’t wait, and it would string her along whether she wanted it to or not.

“Are you okay, Marinette?” Tikki asked, floating closer to her owner’s face.

She sighed again. “I’m just thinking about the Miracle Box again. I don’t know how else we can get it to open, and the only other person who would know, no longer remembers!”

Wayzz floated next to her and gently patted her arm. “It will all work out, Marinette. Have you tried looking through the Miracle Journal, yet?”

Marinette sighed and buried her head in her arms. “Even if I did, I don’t think I would understand a thing.”

“What do you mean?” Wayzz asked, floating to sit on Marinette’s head. “Master Fu left a translated copy for you on his tablet. He had it with him when he went to fight Hawkmoth.”

Marinette shot up and cupped Wayzz in her hands. “Wayzz, there was no tablet when we rescued Master Fu. There was no tablet in the locker either.”

The kwamis’ chatter stopped and their eyes widened.

“Then, that means…,” Wayzz trailed off.

Marinette heard herself whisper as the daunting thought loomed upon them:

“Hawkmoth has the tablet.”

#miraclesingotham #maribat au #mlb x dc #oof poor rose #three times in a week? im cruel #sorry for the crap fight scene #rip #oh and chat made it home fine #hes still singing a ballad tho #damian x marinette #daminette #ml x dc

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hatsukeii · 5 years ago

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Hi! 2, 4, 6, 8, 12, 14 for Kageyama from the headcanons list?? If it's too many, just choose whichever interest you the most! Thank you! 💜

Hhhhh ty for requesting!!

I have so many ideas from Kageyama after seeing the latest few chapters all over my explore page on ig, this should be fun~

Btw just because I crave fluff and made up romantic scenarios I will be including you as a female s/o, I hope you’re fine w that bc I’m terrible at writing same sex fanfics and I feel like including you might be fun too, sorry if it’s not what you prefer, I’ll write up another one if you want!!

(You aren’t mentioned excessively though, so don’t worry!!)

Warnings: Mild manga spoilers that have to do with Kageyama’s backstory, nothing too major though, and angstangstangstangstangst-

2. How are they like on social media?

- Kageyama’s probably one that doesn’t really have that much regarding social media.

- However he would probably have the most common ones.

- Instagram, snapchat, maybe twitter too.

- He also has tiktok now that you’ve basically forced him to download it.

- Definitely uses instagram the most out of everything he has.

- Username: milkboykags

- Followers: 992 (Since he’s pretty popular through playing volleyball.)

- Following: 745 (He tries to follow most of his followers back if they have mutual friends between them, even if it’s a fan.)

- Profile pic: Probably one of those grunge shaky pics of him with a few of the Karasuno team members and you with a dark background and stuff.

- Bio: If you don’t have milk, don’t bother looking for me. ~Me, 2k19 (He hasn’t updated his bio a year lol.)

- His instagram feed is actually pretty aesthetic.

- He has one volleyball post of the entire team at the beach playing beach volleyball while the sun sets.

- He’s way too proud of that post.

- Another one of his posts was taken when you two were on an arcade date (At that time he hadn’t confessed yet, but he asked you out just to do that) and he sneaked a photo of you trying to get a unicorn plush from one of those claw machines.

- That one he’s gonna be keeping in his feed forever.

- He has a collection of highlights.

- There’s one for volleyball practice shenanigans, one for those little dates he takes you on, another one for full on group hangouts, then one of camera wars with random people that try taking photos of him, most likely you or Hinata.

- His feed basically revolves around this filter recipe he made for instagram, which makes his photos look cooler toned and more faded.

(P.s dm me if you want the recipe bc i made it on vsco lmao no I’m not a vsco girl don’t worry.)

- He doesn’t really use snapchat and twitter.

- Only does streaks with you and the volleyball team.

- Tiktok though, is a whole other story.

- Username: givemethecows

- Followers: 1405 (People from both tiktok and instagram.)

- Following: 200

- Bio: I make videos and shit.

- Profile pic: Bass boosted you like jazz meme (Bass boosted but photo if you get me.)

- Kageyama has this whole lowkey eboy thing going on with his tiktok.

- Most the time his videos are just a way to show his weird sense of humour or his sense of style that screams casual eboy.

- Since you forced him to get tiktok, you also forced him to learn dances with you.

- He’s terrible at those.

- Like very bad.

- He managed to break a pair of Tsukishima’s glasses while doing the renegade at break.

- And almost twisted his hips trying to throw it back as a joke.

- Needless to say it’s both hilarious and embarrassing for Kageyama.

- There are also tiktoks of him doing insane volleyball tricks on camera like the demon quick, the synchronised attack, and his jump serve etc.

- Which have gained him quite the following on the platform.

- In conclusion, Kageyama is generally pretty good at social media, but sucks ass at dancing.

4. What is Kageyama’s preferred weather?

- Surprisingly, Kageyama doesn’t like sunny weather. At all.

- For him, it’s the absolute worst thing.

- He think that sunny weather is way too annoying and hot and stuffy and gross.

- Plus, going out for morning runs in sunny weather is like wearing 10 jackets in hell.

- Like you can put on an extra layer if you’re cold but you can’t just strip naked if you’re hot.

- Oh my god he hates it so much it pains him to even think about it.

- He likes rainy days.

- Definitely not his favourite though.

- Rainy days usually mean staying home for the entire day.

- He can just laze around in his house, do whatever he wants.

- The sound of rain against glass windows soothes him.

- The constant sounds of droplets hitting the windows give him a sense of tranquility and peace.

- He will quite literally, fall asleep to those sounds.

- However rainy days do have their drawbacks.

- One of them, is having to stay home.

- Kageyama likes going for runs just to take in some fresh air, but that won’t work when it’s raining cats and dogs now will it.

- Plus, it means everything he does is restricted in his house unless he can get to an indoor gym that’s open.

- Boring.

- So he prefers windy days, when the cold breeze grazes his skin and the sun hides behind the fluffy clouds.

- It’s those days where he doesn’t have to suffer the heat that the sun brings upon him, nor does he have to suffer the feeling of rainwater dripping from the tips of his hair.

- He can do whatever he wants and still feel at ease and comfortable.

- Quite literally everything he asks for in a day.

6. Favourite music?

- Let’s be real, Kageyama probably isn’t good at music.

- He can’t dance or sing to save his life.

- However, he does enjoy how listening to music calms his nerves and gives him a chance to relax, even if he’s in a situation where he should be focused on an assignment or a piece of class work.

- People would expect him to enjoy listening to EDM or alternative rock, but no.

- This boy likes to listen to lofi and love songs.

- This doesn’t mean that his playlist only consists of these two genres, but the majority of songs in his playlist are either chill lofi beats or songs that give you the feels.

- Some of his favourite artists are Jeremy Zucker, Blackbear, Conan Gray, Billie Eilish, Lauv, Clairo, Wallows, Khalid, BENEE, Post Malone, Coldplay, Rex Orange County, Green Day, Shiloh Dynasty, Kina, love-sadKID, and the Arctic Monkeys.

- Has like 5 different playlists for different moods and events.

- One for moody times, one for study beats, one for when he wants throwbacks, one for firing him up before volleyball matches, and one for if he ever has to DJ in the front seat of someone’s car.

- Prefers to listen to music by himself.

- You’re an exception though.

- If he’s with you, you get one earbud, but he’ll be the one choosing the music still.

- You two have pretty contrasting tastes when it comes to music.

- He likes softer songs and lofi the most, whilst you prefer old rock and alternative rock. Oh and also a lot of throwback songs.

- I feel like Kageyama has definitely cried to a few songs when he was going through hard times.

- To him, listening to music is also a way of releasing all the inner conflict and frustrations.

- (Spoiler for backstory) When his grandfather died, he put Fix You on loop for at least 20 minutes.

- He was just numb, curled up into a ball on his bed, staring at the wall. He couldn’t feel anything. Nothing in his mind registered properly. All he could think of, was everything his grandfather had taught him, before he eventually passed away.

- Submerging himself into the melancholy song he was listening to, he didn’t even feel the tears that were now streaming down his face.

- The salty tears were now staining his pillow, creating little wet spots.

- He listened to every single lyric in the song, clutching his sheets harder every time the chorus came up.

- He punched his mattress repeatedly, still unable to accept the fact that someone he held so dear to his heart had just left like the wind.

- It wasn’t long until he was a sobbing mess, shaking and whimpering as he knelt on the bed.

- Silently sang to the lyrics, plopping back to his bed in defeat.

- His sister lingered in front of the door for five whole minutes, eventually leaving to let Kageyama sort out his feelings himself.

- You introduce a ton of new songs to him, since he doesn’t know that much about anything else other than lofi and sad songs.

- Just please no one let him listen to Nickleback. Please. He doesn’t need to know about it.

8. Movie that he would choose for a move nigh?

- The monthly Karasuno volleyball team movie night was finally here, and it was Kageyama’s turn to choose a movie this time, much to Tsukishima’s dismay.

- He’s put a lot of thought into this, not wanting to disappoint his teammates by choosing a shitty movie.

- He basically tried to figure out what everyone wanted to watch.

- However, everyone had very contrasting requests.

- Tsukishima wanted to watch Jurassic Park, Yamaguchi wanted a Disney movie, Hinata wanted something Marvel, Tanaka and Nishinoya wanted a horror movie, (Mainly so they could hit on you whilst you were still single) Sugawara wanted a romcom, Yachi wanted a comedy, and the others were fine with anything.

- He stressed himself out way too much trying to choose one movie.

- He finally got an idea after 3 entire days of thinking.

- And it wasn’t anything the team expected.

- Kageyama pulled up with Pulp Fiction.

- He’s seen that movie at least 5 times already.

- It was the perfect mix of comedy, gore, action, and philosophy.

- Plus, anything that starred Samuel L Jackson was worth a watch.

- Till this day, it remains one of his go to movies, alongside any MCU movie. (Captain America: The First Avenger is definitely his favourite though.)

12. Something small that they enjoy?

- One of the two small things Kageyama enjoys doing is baking cookies.

- Cookies in particular.

- I mean, there really is no detailed explanation.

- He’s pretty good at baking in general, even Tsukishima enjoys the cookies he bakes.

- Plus, he gets to dip the cookies in milk, what’s there not to enjoy?

- Another little thing he enjoys a lot is actually photography.

- Most the time, when he sees a pretty sky, or a city street at nighttime.

- He can’t help himself but snap a few photos here and there.

- Something about a well shot photo just hits different.

- Sometimes, he brings his camera out just to takes nice photos.

- Whenever you two are on dates, he’ll be able to capture candid or motion shots of when you’re just looking out the window of a bus mindlessly, or when you’re twirling around on the street playfully.

- Photos speak a thousand words, and honestly? He lives by that.

14. What is enough to bring him to tears?

- Support.

- Kageyama really needs support from someone he cares about.

- And no, not like support from his teammates.

- That’s different from hearing someone cheer from the stands.

- (Spoiler for backstory) Kageyama’s parents never gave much attention to him, since they were always busy with work. The only person that ever showed support for him was his grandfather, who passed away while he was still young.

- As if that wasn’t enough shit directed towards Kageyama, his teammates abandoned him during a match in junior high not long after the death of his grandfather.

- Which means that Kageyama now has lowkey abandonment issues.

- All through his volleyball journey he never got the support and reassurance he needed.

- He watched in envy as people from opposing teams, or even his own teammates, waved at their family members after they won or lost a match.

- All he could do was stare at the stands, hoping to catch just a glimpse of a family member.

- Nothing.

- Nobody realised how alone Kageyama felt during and after matches, until they watched him break down in tears after a particular match.

- It was the Spring Match against Seijoh, and Karasuno was playing like normal.

- Kageyama was insanely good as usual.

- What he didn’t notice then, was that you had dragged his sister Miwa to the match just so you both could cheer for him.

- In addition to that, you were also wearing his jersey.

- It wasn’t until the final point was scored, did he hear you and Miwa scream from the stands.

- Hearing the familiar voices, his head basically snapped in your direction, scanning the stadium for someone familiar, before landing his eyes on you and his older sister.

- His eyes widened for a hot second, his mind running in circles.

- Nobody has ever cheered for him.

- But here you two were, cheering for him from the stands.

- And you were wearing his jersey.

- A hand went up to cover his mouth, a huge grin spreading.

- One drop.

- Two drops.

- Then came the waterworks.

- The entire team was shocked.

- Like shookth.

- The two of you ran down to the arena, engulfing Kageyama in a huge hug.

- Best moment of his fucking life.

- From then on, the Karasuno team members made sure to notify you of any matches they had against other schools, hoping you and Miwa could go cheer.

- You two haven’t missed a single match since.

Whoooo three hours of work and going straight to Netflix at 2:30am, what a life.

I couldn’t resist I’m sorry casual or slight angst is my favourite genre of hc and fanfic-

I hope you liked this xx😗👉👈

#haikyuu x reader #kageyama tobio #hq kageyama #haikyuu headcanons #hq headcanons #hq x reader #kageyama x reader #haikyuu #hq #writing prompt

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themurphyzone · 5 years ago

Text

PatB Oneshot: Goodbye, Old Friend

AN: So I posted about this idea before, and Pluto said it would make for a good fanfic. So here we are! Takes place after the Brainwashed trilogy, in which Snowball is reverted to a normal hamster.

This fic is 9326 words and I have no idea how this got to be triple the length of We’re Just Mice or A Whole New World.

Summary: Post-Brainwashed trilogy. Brain and Snowball were close once, until the world tore them apart. Then Snowball tried to kill him physically and emotionally. And now Snowball is a normal, innocent hamster. Brain tries to come to terms with this.

FFN Link

Life returned to normal after they stopped that infernal dance from rendering Earth’s population criminally stupid.

He still aspired to take over the world, Pinky never pondered what he pondered, and Madonna seemed to have taken a leaf out of Precious the Cat’s evil book and given the world a new aggravating dance craze that was guaranteed to stall humanity’s progress by eight centuries.

The only element missing was the occasional detour into stopping Snowball’s schemes when their ambitions and methods clashed.

He wouldn’t have to lose an entire night that could’ve been devoted to hypnotizing Dwayne Johnson so that he would promote the Brain as emperor of the world. He would have more time to create an irresistible ice cream flavor, followed by assuming control of a popular ice cream franchise to produce it, and nobody would catch on to the sweet additive that would plant the idea of hailing Brain as their ruler.

Logic dictated that he would be more efficient and focused.

And if his thoughts wandered onto that unwelcome emotional tangent, he should be pleased by Snowball’s loss of sentience.

Snowball was nothing but trouble. Always taunting him, trying to break his partnership with Pinky, and interfering with his plans. He knew how to damage Brain’s pride and dignity and take advantage of his flaws. He attempted to chip away at Pinky’s unwavering loyalty, scoffing at Brain for associating (not the true definition of their partnership, but it was better than relying or depending) with a lesser creature.

Brain growled, snapping his pencil in two and flinging the broken pieces against the wall. They landed on the tiled floor with a dull clatter. The noise wasn’t satisfying in the slightest.

Wonderful. Now he needed a new pencil.

Kicking aside the scraps of a non-viable plan, he stalked over to the pencil holder and selected the only writing utensil that didn’t have a scientist’s toothmarks all over it. Then he marched back to his notepad, intent on distracting himself with a complex stoichiometry formula.

“It’s like this, Snowball! One! Rainbow! Cumin! Troz!” Pinky exclaimed, batting a crumpled ball of tin foil into the air, each hit punctuated by a poor attempt at counting the integers above one.

Snowball was more interested in mindlessly gnawing on the tin foil than playing Hacky Sack though. Not that it stopped Pinky, who switched to tossing and catching the tin foil with his mouth only.

Brain tried to ignore them, but concern for the other rodents’ lungs and stomachs overpowered his desire to write out mathematical operations.

“Pinky, find another ridiculous activity that doesn’t involve slobbering over random objects!” Brain snapped. “And give Snowball something edible to chew on!”

He kept his gaze trained on Pinky, who saluted with his mouth stretched to an uncomfortable degree by the tin foil ball. Snowball had prized himself on intelligence, and to see him behave so primitively was beyond mortifying.

Pinky made a muffled noise that could’ve been anything from “Aye-aye, Captain Brain!” to “Let’s sprinkle ourselves with fairy dust and breadcrumbs and fly to Neverland!”

With a heavy sigh, Brain delivered a hard slap to Pinky’s back. The tinfoil popped out of Pinky’s mouth, trailing saliva as it skittered across the counter.

“Thanks, Brain,” Pinky chirped. “Ooh, my back is super tingly. Just like the time I made a slip-n’-slide with aloe vera!”

“Yes, how could I forget?” Brain muttered. The excess aloe vera had ruined his hypersonic satellite transmitter after all. “Hand sanitizer was never meant to be used in such a manner.”

“Oh, but the aloe vera was so polite. The soap squirty-thing by the sink though, now she could use some lessons in saying please and thank you,” Pinky said, grabbing a food pellet from the bowl. He produced a small silver tray and made a show of preparing the food pellet for consumption, sprinkling some sort of invisible spice on the dish.

Brain rolled his eyes as Pinky draped a tissue over one arm and carried the tray above his head with just one hand, humming a nonsensical tune as he set the tray in front of Snowball, who sniffed the food pellet once and drew back. “Yerrrr dinna, monseeyour,” Pinky drawled with a horrible French accent. “Bon appetity!”

“It’s pronounced appetit,” Brain corrected. “I can hardly blame Snowball for being appalled.”

Pinky hurried back to the bowl, plucking a large food pellet from the top of the pile. “He probably just doesn’t like paprika. Maybe he’s more of a pepper type. Hey Brain, have you seen my pepper sneezy turncrankanizer anywhere?”

The pepper mill was hidden in the back of a kitchen cupboard, but Brain had no desire to experience a bout of unstoppable sneezing fits.

“I don’t know, Pinky,” Brain shrugged. “You never store your belongings in the same place.”

“Okay, just a dash then,” Pinky said, though ‘just a dash’ in Pinky’s vocabulary meant completely coating the food pellet with invisible pepper. He waved the new pellet in front of Snowball’s nose. “Try it now, Snowball!”

But Snowball chittered at Pinky and pushed the pellet aside, his nose quivering with apprehension.

Brain forced himself to look at a colorful, childish poster of the scientific method on the door instead of Pinky’s pathetic attempts to find Snowball something to eat.

Hearing Pinky adopt different methods to entice Snowball to try a food pellets, from airplane noises to grunts that accompanied silly faces, it brought memories to the forefront of his mind.

Memories that had never truly disappeared, buried into the farthest, deepest crevices by his ideals of global domination.

Making Snowball laugh after a grueling experiment left him sore and aching. Seeing who could make their wheel spin faster and faster until they collapsed from dizziness. Holding hands and sleeping against the bars of their cages because it was the only way to feel warm in those cold, lonely nights.

Life was simpler before the fallout, before the accursed gene splicer, before the world haunted every waking hour and dream.

By contrast, Pinky was a paradoxical miracle. Pinky was bred for companionship and comfort, but someone brought him into a life of sterility and mazes. He had every right to be angry, every right to lash out and bite the oppressors who lorded over his existence, yet he found the strength to smile instead.

Despite the pain, Pinky laughed. And Brain didn’t understand how.

A hard and dry object rolled over his foot, a welcome distraction from his darkening thoughts. Brain picked up the food pellet, scowling at the pigsty their cage had transformed into while he’d been distracted. Pellets were scattered everywhere, there was a puddle by the water bottle, and Pinky was inspecting the underside of the empty food bowl like he’d found an interesting speck of dirt there.

But Snowball was nowhere to be found.

“Snowball! Come out, come out, wherever you are! Your tummy’s gonna get Brain-grumbly if you don’t eat soon!” Pinky called, shifting the bowl like Snowball would just magically drop out from the bottom. “Poit, this speck of dirt is shaped like a squash! I never noticed before!”

“Pinky, there are many things you don’t notice,” Brain sighed. “Such as Snowball getting lost and not having the mental capacity to remember his route.”

“Just like how I lost my marbles last week,” Pinky sniffed, wiping his nose with his tail. Brain wrinkled his nose and passed him a tissue. Pinky accepted it with a grateful nod and blew his nose. “Poor Snowball. He must be hungry! Scared! Alone! Bamboozled!”

“Not to worry, Pinky,” Brain said, though it was taking a considerable amount of effort to stop his ears from drooping and betraying his own thoughts. “Your marbles have been missing a lot longer than just last week, I’m afraid. Now cease this blubbering and clean up our living quarters while I search for our wayward hamster.”

“Right, Brain,” Pinky nodded, a spark of determination shining in his blue eyes. “I’ll make those coins spick-span and squeaky clean!”

Pinky tied a cloth around his ears, humming a light, airy tune as he grabbed the broom and set to work. Brain quickly vacated the cage. Pinky would vigorously scrub every spot he deemed filthy, and living things were not excluded from Pinky’s cleaning sprees.

He started with a sweep of his usual planning station and nearby counters, discovering that his blueprints and measuring instruments were in slight disarray. His first instinct was to blame Pinky, but since his protractor hadn’t been carted up to the top shelf and used as a zipline in an impromptu game of Batmouse and Raven, it was more likely that Snowball knocked it over.

Snowball had clearly retained a desire to mess with him.

He returned everything to their proper positions, concluding that Snowball was in a completely different room. Brain knew he’d have to make up for lost time later, but he’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

As he crossed the next room, he gave Billie’s cage a wide berth. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with unflattering comments about his proportions, and he still had no idea what caused him to ever be infatuated with her in the first place. Luckily, she was too preoccupied with tying a pink ribbon to her tail to notice him, and he made it to the hallway without any issue.

Brain marched down the corridor and listened for any signs of activity, but there was only the sound of his footsteps and the white noise of the air conditioner. He stopped by the breakroom, grabbing an apple slice from a snack platter to entice Snowball into following him.

“Snowball, I know you require sustenance. If you refuse the food pellets, then I will procure some organic food for you,” Brain called into a room full of guinea pigs. Their noses twitched greedily at the scent of the apple slice, but Brain tightened his grip and ignored them.

These creatures weren’t genetically enhanced. Their only goals in life were food, reproduction, and mindlessly catering to the scientists’ whims. Once Brain determined Snowball’s absence, he hastily left and ignored the guilty pang at leaving the guinea pigs so listless and defeated.

It was fine, he told himself. He’d rule the world one day, and unethical practices would no longer be tolerated and paraded around as necessary for progress in scientific fields.

The next area was a medical room, and the constant humming of the equipment made Brain’s fur stand on end. It was deceptively white and sterile, a stark contrast to the shadowed blues and blacks that surrounded their cage. This was where humans acted as judge, jury, and executioner. Some came out with minor changes, others had their qualities significantly altered, and the unfortunate ones never came back at all.

Several vials of liquid weren’t aligned with the others along the shelf, and Brain knew they’d been recently used. Those vials were the reason Pinky wasn’t allowed to venture past the breakroom alone. The simpleton would believe it was apple juice and guzzle it down, and the thought that he could fall asleep and never wake up again would never cross his empty mind.

Brain wasted no time in ruling out this horrible place. A primitive mind would still register the sense of impending doom and avoid danger at all costs.

Then a sharp squeal pierced the air. Brain rushed into the hall, readying his apple slice for a bopping in case he needed to reprimand Pinky for abandoning his post, but no laughter or verbal tics accompanied the sound.

He tensed as the squeal echoed off the walls, accompanied by a shriek that was somewhat higher. Brain followed the sound until he was in front of a heavy metal door at the end of the hall. A radioactive symbol was posted on the door, though the lab didn’t carry such potent materials due to their high expenses. The bottom was blocked off with a thick seal that even Pinky’s malleable body wouldn’t be able to squeeze through.

The radioactive sign was just there to cover up the gene splicer, a byproduct of Project BRAIN’s failure. None of the scientists enjoyed the reminder of how their failed experiment costed them a hefty government grant.

Despite their attempts to keep the room secure, someone had botched it and left the door open enough for a curious hamster to slip through. Brain squeezed through the gap with minimal trouble, which he took as a small blessing since his head tended to get caught between spaces that other mice wouldn’t normally have an issue with.

The gene splicer was indistinguishable from any other piece of lab equipment. Still, Brain refused to go anywhere near it. Yes, the machine had granted him intelligence, but at the cost of his innocence. And though his fateful meeting with Pinky was an unintentional result of the project, it also cost him a dear childhood friend.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, the adage said.

Snowball was on the ground, scratching at a drawer in a feeble attempt to reach a cage that contained a ginger colored hamster. Snowball squealed, and the caged hamster responded back in kind.

Male hamsters were territorial. Brain saw that statement in a lab textbook shortly after Snowball’s descent into evil. And sometimes he wondered if Snowball’s idea of territory had grown to encompass the entire world after the splicing.

Well, he hoped they were being territorial. He didn’t want to consider Snowball scouting for potential breeding partners.

As Brain approached with the apple slice, Snowball’s frantic scratching gave way to curious sniffing. Dropping back onto all fours, Snowball scampered over to Brain. He didn’t have a chance to set the apple slice down before Snowball nibbled on it like he’d never eaten something so delicious in his life.

“You’re worse than Pinky when he’s in close proximity to a cheese platter,” Brain said.

Snowball polished off the apple slice in record time, rocking back on his hind legs and looking at Brain with round, pink eyes. Juice dripped off his fur, front incisors poking out in a ridiculous manner.

It was impossible to reconcile the prideful, ambitious dictator with the innocent rodent. If Snowball’s desire for power had been dormant in him all along, or if the gene splicer’s explosion damaged his mind, Brain would never know for certain.

His hand was resting on Snowball’s pudgy white stomach.

Snowball chittered, shuffling closer to Brain with a dopey smile.

Suddenly it felt incredibly disturbing that anyone with a logical mind, even a former one, would want to be treated like a common pet.

Brain recoiled, clutching his hand protectively as he placed a respectable distance between himself and the clingy hamster. Snowball had no dignity to preserve, no reputation to uphold. So Brain had to do it for him.

He once cherished making Snowball laugh by tickling his belly.

But those days were over.

Snowball dropped into a quadrupedal stance and scurried after Brain, chittering in his primitive language. Brain didn’t look at him. The noise was sufficient proof of Snowball’s presence.

He didn’t want to look at Snowball.

“Come…Snowball,” Brain ordered. Snowball’s name didn’t flow off his tongue well. Not like Pinky’s. “Let’s depart. We’ll stop by the breakroom on the way back to the cage. You still require food.”

Brain slipped through the gap in the door, and Snowball readily followed. Brain kept his head down as Snowball scurried ahead, behind, and in every direction that wasn’t straight. Occasionally Snowball nudged Brain’s hands, so he kept them folded against his chest to prevent any unwanted touching.

Physical contact with Snowball would inevitably dredge up nostalgia over the past, and Brain had dwelled on their shared history far too much already.

-o-o-o-o-o-

The breakroom was a welcome diversion.

Brain put several apple slices into a napkin, carefully sliding down the chair leg and setting his bundle in front of Snowball. The hamster squealed in delight and scarfed down one slice so fast that Brain couldn’t tell if he actually chewed on it. While Snowball filled his stomach, Brain retrieved a toothpick and stuck it into a cheese cube.

By the time he made it to the ground, Snowball was already finished with his meal. Curious, Snowball sniffed at the cheese cube.

“Back, Snowball,” Brain said, holding the items above his head as he attempted to nudge Snowball away with one foot. “This is for someone else.”

Despite his best efforts, Snowball still managed to place a paw on Brain’s head and nibble at one corner of the cheese cube. Brain growled, shoving Snowball’s paw off his face. A small strip of cheese hung from Snowball’s mouth as he tumbled to the ground.

Brain glanced at the cube, relieved that the damage was minimal.

“Your greed hasn’t been altered in the slightest,” Brain sighed.

Snowball gagged and spat out the cheese, now reduced to a mushy pile of dairy and saliva.

If Pinky were present, he would’ve found it blasphemous.

Brain was tempted to leave the mush behind and let some unsuspecting human step on it, but sanitary practices won out, so the mush was scooped into a napkin and thrown into the wastebasket.

Brain signaled Snowball to follow him into the main testing area. Though Snowball no longer had an interest in the cheese cube, Brain held it away from him.

As they rounded the corner, their ears were assaulted by a high-pitched giggle. Snowball pressed himself to the ground, his stubby tail quivering madly.

Though he didn’t remember their short-lived fling, Snowball was still annoyed by Billie.

To Brain’s irritation, Pinky was perched on the shelf by Billie’s cage. Billie preened at the attention, while Pinky seemed more interested in weaving his fingers together.

“Natch! Whaddya think, Pinky? I made it all nice and pretty-looking for ya!” Billie flicked her tail in front of Pinky’s nose, showing off her fluttering pink ribbon.

Pinky glanced up from his fingers, which were now interlocked in some bizarre cat’s cradle pattern. “It’s a lovely ribbon, Billie. Looks just like the loopy G in – um, Disney’s logo?”

“Loopy G! That’s funny!” Billie laughed again, oblivious to how Pinky backed away from her cage.

Snowball made a noise of displeasure at her squawky giggles, drawing Pinky and Billie’s attention. Pinky perked up, all his previous discomfort vanishing. He rushed down from the shelf, forgetting that his hands were locked together. Predictably, he overbalanced and tumbled to the floor.

“Narf!” Pinky exclaimed, hopping to his feet and wobbling around. The jolt had separated his hands, saving Brain the trouble of doing it himself. “Everything’s so tilt-a-whirly!”

Brain transferred the toothpick to one hand, squeezing Pinky’s nose with the other. Pinky’s eyes darted all over the place, but he settled within seconds.

“Hiya, Brain!” Pinky grinned, his tail swishing back and forth.

“Hello, Pinky,” Brain replied. “I assume you’ve finished cleaning?”

Pinky nodded. “Yup! All the quarters are clean now! George Washington has never looked shinier!”

Before Brain could reply, Snowball shoved his way between them and forced Brain to release Pinky’s nose. He chittered in displeasure at being ignored.

“You’re not the only mindless creature that requires focus,” Brain scolded as he reached over Snowball’s back and shoved the toothpick into Pinky’s arms. “Be patient.”

Pinky gasped, clutching the toothpick like he’d unexpectedly won a beauty competition. “For me? Oh Brain, you shouldn’t have!” he exclaimed, humming in pleasure as he took an enormous bite.

“If you’re going to react this way whenever I hand you something, maybe I shouldn’t. Try not to get splinters in your teeth this time,” Brain snapped. Pinky would enjoy a broken rubber band if he were presented with one, so it was irrational to be concerned about the cheese cube.

“Ahem,” Billie coughed. Subtlety was not her strong suit. “Eggy, doncha know it’s rude ta interrupt? Didn’t your mother teach ya manners?”

“Manners are hardly a priority for wild animals,” Brain replied. “Now kindly refrain from distracting my associate in the future. We have important work to do.”

“Work!” Billie scoffed. “Ya have some nerve takin’ Pinky, but bringin’ Snowy here too? He made me take breath control lessons, for cryin’ out loud! But looks like the joke’s on Snowy! Pinky likes my voice the way it is!”

Pinky giggled, undeterred when Snowball aimed a growl in his direction.

“Told ya!” Billie exclaimed.

Whatever sympathy points Billie had earned from her failed relationship with Snowball evaporated into thin air. She’d never known the Snowball from before. She had no room to talk.

“Yes, hold yourself over someone who can’t understand the mortifying nickname you’ve bestowed upon them,” Brain retorted. “You must feel proud of yourself.”

“That’s rich comin’ from you,” Billie shot back. “Ya do it ta Pinky every day.”

“How I conduct myself in front of Pinky is none of your concern,” Brain said icily. He pushed Snowball closer to the door, hoping the solace of their usual living space would calm Snowball down from Billie’s incessant squawking. Snowball scurried into the other room without hesitation.

“Oh, but I think you’d be a good conductor, Brain,” Pinky said, poking his teeth with the empty toothpick. “Even if nobody in the Trans-Siberian Orchestra would be able to see you.”

For once, it wasn’t a completely terrible idea. The complication could be easily rectified. He’d have to file that plan for another night though.

“Your idea has merit, Pinky,” Brain admitted. “But it’s irrelevant to the topic at hand.”

“See what I mean?” Billie scowled. “Ya dismiss him. Ya call him names. Ya yell at him all the time. I can hear ya from my cage! Didja think these ears were for decoratin’ only? Snowy told me about ya when we were datin’. Said ya wouldn’t care what happened to anyone else as long as ya got the world! If this is how ya treat your friends, I can see why Snowy left ya!”

“Don’t!” Brain snapped, turning his back to Billie. His hands started to tremble, and he shoved them deep into his fur before he could smash the nearest object into the wall. “Don’t make assumptions about events you weren’t present for!”

“Brain?” Pinky whispered. He spread his arms with a questioning look, but Brain shot him a warning glare. Pinky’s ears drooped, yet he stubbornly refused to back off.

Brain no longer remembered what had caused the schism to widen beyond repair. Perhaps it was something he said. Perhaps it was something Snowball said. Or perhaps the world decided to make them a laughingstock, and there was no definite reason at all.

The plausible explanation eluded him. But it was a regret he’d have to endure.

Pinky tapped his foot rapidly, his bright smile replaced by an uncharacteristic frown.

It was a rare sight on the carefree mouse, and Brain never felt prepared for it.

“Brain cares about the world, and I live here, so that means he cares about me,” Pinky declared. He held his head and tail high as he spoke with undeniable conviction. “He’ll kiss the world’s boo-boos away, you’ll see! Troz!”

Brain couldn’t entirely stop the warmth that flooded his body, even if Pinky’s defense was awfully sentimental.

Billie threw up her hands in defeat. “Fine! Tell him ta marry the world if he loves it so much! At least it’ll free ya up that way!”

“Maybe I will!” Pinky shouted as Billie stomped to the farthest corner of her cage.

“I believe we’re finished here. Come, Pinky,” Brain ordered. He gripped Pinky’s elbow and half-led, half-dragged him into the other room.

Snowball joined them halfway to the counter, abandoning a ball of tin foil he’d been pushing around.

“That’s a great idea, Snowball!” Pinky exclaimed, not caring that Snowball was burrowing between Brain’s hand and his elbow. “Let’s play football! Let’s see, that grape juice stain on the doormat can be the end zone. The gum under the spinny chair is home base. The Garfield and Otis poster is the hoop! Hmmm, there’s not much green or sand here though. I don’t know how we’d score love without sand.”

“I don’t know how you’d score anything if the players are incapable of counting,” Brain muttered. He glared at Snowball, who looked all too pleased that he succeeded in forcing Brain to release Pinky.

Whether Snowball retained his sentient persona, or if he’d always been like this and Brain’s memories were just rose-tinted, he didn’t know. Snowball couldn’t resist keeping Brain away from Pinky. He basked in Brain’s frustration, relished in his anger, cackled at his sorrow.

On that horrible night when Brain had gained the world but damned Pinky’s soul to hell, Snowball had invoked Pinky’s mannerisms to torment him. It was a terrible mockery of Pinky’s simple nature. To have the silliness but not the sincerity. To run on an exercise wheel without truly enjoying it.

Snowball was the first creature he’d ever bonded with. And Snowball had wanted Brain to be tormented with the knowledge of how he couldn’t save a kindred spirit who’d never done anything to deserve a terrible fate.

Brain curled his fingers into the fur on Snowball’s chest. Snowball’s content noises turned to a surprised squeal as he was unceremoniously hauled to a standing position. If Brain thought about it too hard, some part of him enjoyed causing pain in Snowball for once.

Brain tightened his hold on Snowball, pouring every ounce of betrayal and fury he’d ever felt towards his former friend into his grasp.

“You spit in the name of social progress,” Brain snarled. “You tried to manipulate Billie. You stole Pinky. You tried to kill us multiple times, even after I offered to save you in the jungle. You have no interest in bettering the world for us or anyone else. And you left. You left and I didn’t know where you were, or what you were doing, or if you’d been taken in by someone or picked off by predators or if you were alright! Were you lying in our childhood too? Was I just entertainment for you, even back then?”

Snowball squealed, his paws scrabbling against the air.

“ANSWER ME!” Brain roared.

His heart pounded in his ears, his breathing came out in ragged gasps. An unidentifiable force pressed against his chest, threatening to claw its way out. Just him and Snowball in a black void. Nothing else mattered. Not until he got what he wanted.

And then a warm hand enveloped his. Long fingers gently slipped into Brain’s fist and loosened it from Snowball’s fur.

Snowball plopped to the ground on all fours, his eyes round with terror.

The lab flickered into view. There was the counter, the shadowy cage bars that crisscrossed along the walls, the lab supplies. There was Snowball edging away in fright.

And there was Pinky, soothingly massaging circles onto the back of Brain’s hands.

“You don’t really want to hurt him,” Pinky said quietly.

Brain couldn’t look any higher than Pinky’s chest. As usual, Pinky’s faith in him was misplaced. Brain wanted to return all the hurt Snowball had inflicted tenfold. It didn’t matter how much he tried to avoid retribution.

Revenge was a fool’s game.

And somehow, Brain had become that fool.

Pinky had a special way of inspiring guilt without harsh words.

“I don’t know, Pinky,” Brain replied. He slowly stepped away from Pinky.

Snowball had crawled into the space between the wall and a table, the shadow of a thick bar across his face as he peered out at Brain.

This was Snowball’s future if he remained in the lab. He couldn’t help with world domination. He would just be another nameless experiment and doomed to fade into obscurity.

“You can’t stay here,” Brain murmured. “We’ll have to relocate you to another residence.”

Snowball reminded him of simple times, happy times, infuriating times. Too many bittersweet memories, too many clashing ideals.

Snowball blinked, uncomprehending.

“Yes, we’ll just need a few articles of clothing from past plans. A cover story. A man and his spouse are moving across the country and wish to rehome their hamster to someone who can provide proper nutrients and intellectual stimulation,” Brain declared. “We’ll need flyers, a proper table setup, and an application process.”

“Right, Brain,” Pinky said, already scribbling a preliminary design for their flyers. “We’ll find him a new home in no time!”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Twelve applicants so far and none of them were suitable for taking care of a rock, much less a living being. Belatedly, Brain realized that he should’ve been more selective about the locations of his flyers.

The application had a chocolate stain in one corner, random blue scribbles that wasted the ink of at least ten different pens, and several rips from coloring too hard. It was a travesty that would’ve made any actual employer tear their hair out and use ten vacation weeks to save their sanity.

“-my own little bunny rabbit! I will name him Mr. Georgie-Porgie and I will hug him and pet him and squeeze him and pat him and love him and never let him go- “

Snowball’s terrified screech was all the reason Brain needed to push the eject button, springing Elmyra Duff out of her chair and into the night sky.

No matter what Brain thought of Snowball, he would never condemn him to a life of dress-up, embraces of certain death, and being christened Mr. Georgie-Porgie Fuzzysprinkles Bunny-Wunny the Third.

“Pinky, coax Snowball out with an apple slice. I need to go shred this abomination of a document.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Brain felt the side of his head for the tenth time since he started interviewing Applicant #32, making absolutely certain his temporal lobe was firmly embedded in his skull. The application was marginally better than the others he’d reviewed so far, if one chose to ignore the ‘evil genius’ portion under occupations.

“Do you have a goal in mind regarding pet ownership, Mr…ah, your name again?” Brain asked, forcing himself to read off a list of questions he’d prepared. It was better than looking at someone with an entire vital organ for their head.

“I’d prefer to be called the Lobe,” the squishy pink mass atop a human body replied, adjusting his tie with an air of importance.

“Narrrf! Just like the Brai-“ Pinky caught the warning look from Brain, “the Brady Bunch! The is a funny name!” He burst into a flurry of giggles, his dress billowing around him as he doubled over in laughter.

Brain cleared his throat, redirecting the Lobe’s affronted expression to him. “My wife had a…traumatic injury that enabled her to enjoy sitcoms with hackneyed plots.”

“Ah, now that’s just tragic,” the Lobe mused.

“Agreed,” Brain said. “Now, if you’ll answer the question.”

“Very well. I would raise your hamster to destroy my mortal enemy, Freakazoid,” the Lobe shook his fist. “He thwarted my schemes, ruined my traps, and called David Hasselhoff stupid! I will make him pay recompense for his actions!”

Snowball scampered across the table, nose twitching as he regarded the Lobe. Brain reached for the eject button, not wanting to give Snowball to anyone who would enable his bad traits, but the Lobe scooped Snowball into his palms before he could press it.

“There’s a certain adorable appeal to you,” the Lobe said, bringing Snowball up to his face for a closer look. “Freakazoid will never see us coming! We’ll be unstoppa-yeeeeowwww!”

Snowball chomped down on his nose…well, in the position where a nose should be.

The Lobe screamed, toppling off the chair as he dislodged Snowball from his face with a wet-sounding splat.

“Never mind!” the Lobe hollered over his shoulder. He rushed to the exit, covering his face with his hands. “I don’t want your devil hamster anymore!”

Brain set the eject button aside. There was no need since Snowball handled the rejection for him.

Snowball turned around, revealing a spongy pink blob in his mouth. Snowball chewed slowly.

Brain recoiled, and even Pinky looked nauseated.

It took a solid twenty minutes before Brain could bring himself to call Applicant #33. Seven minutes to convince Snowball to spit out the inedible substance and rinse his mouth, and another thirteen minutes for Brain to wash up and change into a spare suit since Snowball had decided to spit the substance into his face.

-o-o-o-o-o-

“Pinky, are you pondering what I’m pondering?” Brain took a sip of tea from his thimble to wash down the rasp in his voice, worn from repeating the same questions.

“I think so, Brain,” Pinky nodded. Unlike Brain, he wasn’t worn down at all. “But Space Jam would pair much better with peanut butter than with Bugs Bunny.”

Brain rubbed his temples. Nobody was a suitable candidate. Too young, too flighty, too inexperienced, too busy, the list went on. “No, Pinky,” he said. “I loathe to say it, but we may have to leave him at the mercy of a pet store. I won’t be there to control the circumstances of his purchase, but…”

“Snowball should be happy in his new home, Brain,” Pinky said. “How would you know he’d be happy?”

“If it concerns you, Pinky, I could insert a hidden camera into Snowball’s enclosure,” Brain replied, his mind racing with a thousand precautions to take in case tonight didn’t pan out. “I could monitor it from here with the proper signals. I’d have to keep my plans contained within the lab for a period of time, but it’s doable.”

Pinky still looked unsure.

“We could disguise ourselves as pet store workers and screen potential owners that way.”

Pinky played with his tail absentmindedly.

“Film a commercial that features Snowball suffering with melodramatic background music and hope someone’s protective instinct will override rational thought?”

When Pinky didn’t respond a third time, Brain bopped him on the head to get his attention. “Pinky!” he snapped harshly. “Don’t you have any inane contributions to my ideas?”

“Zort! Sorry, Brain!” Pinky laughed, shaking his head to get rid of the excess dizziness. “I was just wondering how Ellie’s doing. She’s filling the appaloosa in right now.”

“Were you chatting with the applicants?” Brain asked. He glanced at Snowball, who was fast asleep on a red pincushion. The past few hours had finally worn him out.

“I went out for a walk while you were talking to that guy with the tweed elbow patches and combover,” Pinky said. “He took a while, didn’t he?”

“You have no idea,” Brain grumbled.

It certainly explained the suspicious lack of narfs and poits during the excruciating stint with Applicant #41. And it hadn’t been much of an interview either. Brain had learned more about the man’s failing marriage, gambling debts, and inability to fulfill a lifelong dream of being a world famous stand-up comedian than he wanted to. On top of that, Snowball had stolen the eject button, disconnecting the wiring and forcing Brain to engage him in a game of keep away, otherwise Brain would’ve been rid of that annoyance much sooner.

Pinky scratched his head, a rather futile gesture for him in Brain’s opinion. “The stars were really pretty tonight, like little specks of Christmas lights! I was looking at them when Ellie accidentally stepped on my dress.”

Brain glanced at the hem of Pinky’s dress, making Pinky twirl around to check for costume damage. But there was none to be found. “It doesn’t look ruffled.”

Pinky giggled as the hem settled around his feet. “It’s really more of a pleat than a ruffle, I think. Then Ellie took out a needle and thread and fixed it in a jiffy!”

“You don’t think,” Brain sighed. “I assume you invited her?”

“I think you’d like her, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed. “Just give her a chance!”

“Pinky, your preconceptions on what I like tend to be wildly inaccurate,” Brain said, but reluctantly decided to humor Pinky anyway. “However, you can fetch me her application. If it doesn’t meet my standards, we’ll turn her away at the door so I can partially reduce the migraine this mess will surely cause me later.”

Pinky slipped through the mail slot, returning a few moments later with a rolled-up application in tow. He hummed a dreamy tune as he presented it to Brain.

Once the application was unfurled, Brain summoned the little energy he had left and concentrated on the surprisingly professional penmanship, refusing to acknowledge the knowing gleam in Pinky’s eyes.

Though Brain scrutinized the document for faults, there was little to be found. Easy to read, correct grammar, and the education history was extensive. There were two PhD’s listed, along with a third PhD in psychology that was currently in the works.

In fact, the only thing unusual was that her surname and occupation were both listed as Nurse.

Overall, it was the best application Brain had reviewed all night. And it happened to be the result of Pinky’s dumb luck.

Pinky grinned. “Can I get Ellie now, Brain?”

“Very well. And send everyone else home while you’re out there. I don’t have the energy to handle more idiocy tonight,” Brain said, folding the application neatly and leaving the important information sticking out.

While Pinky carried out his orders, Brain checked on Snowball. The hamster slumbered on, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. His limbs were splayed out and hanging over the pincushion, but it didn’t appear to bother him, so Brain left it alone.

“Dreaming about a lush apple orchard somewhere?” Brain asked, keeping his voice low so he could have ample warning about Pinky’s return. To Brain’s relief, Snowball didn’t reply. “Perhaps you’ll be taken in by someone who owns one, if this human can’t match up to her application.”

There was a high possibility of never seeing Snowball again, no matter the outcome. While their origins were similar, there were too many bumps, too many circumstances, too much bitterness for their paths to coexist ever again.

Brain had Pinky. Snowball needed someone who would care for his needs too.

Snowball snorted and rolled over, unconsciously placing his weight against Brain. They’d slept like this before, in more ignorant times. There were no cold iron bars between them now.

The door handle clicked.

Brain shoved Snowball back onto the pincushion, rushing back to his chair and correcting the brown wig that had been knocked askew in his haste. Snowball’s eyes fluttered open, but he yawned and drifted off again.

“Enter,” Brain called. His heart pounded, and he hoped nobody would be able to hear it.

The door swung open and a blonde woman strode in, each clack of her heels confident and purposeful. Pinky was perched on her shoulder, and he gave Brain a cheery wave while she closed the door behind her.

“Hello, Ms. Nurse,” Brain said, gesturing to the seat in front of him.

Ellie sat down, her posture poised but comfortable as she set her purse in her lap. She would be considered attractive by human standards, though she didn’t flaunt it. “I’d rather be called Ellie, if you don’t mind. Only my colleagues and the children I work with call me Nurse.”

Brain nodded. “Ellie then. If you’ll give me a moment.”

He scanned the question set, debating the pros and cons of running down the list or selecting a random order. Pinky jumped to the table, the hem of his dress catching around his feet and making his landing less than graceful. But he recovered quickly, peering over Brain’s shoulder at the paper.

Describe your occupation.

Have you had pets before?

How much do you know about hamster care?

The questions blurred together, and Brain’s mouth went dry. He didn’t know what to ask first. Each question would either result in the applicant’s rejection or lend consideration to Snowball’s new home.

He shrugged to get Pinky off his shoulder. He wasn’t helping.

“Your wife was telling me about you,” Ellie offered after Brain dragged the silence for too long.

Wife?

Cover story. Right.

“And what did she say?” Brain asked, unsure of why he was forgetting his own plan. He would probably have to perform damage control in case Pinky let something slip.

“That you care very much about your hamster and want to give him a good home,” Ellie replied, not reacting when Brain scowled at her. He didn’t ‘care’. He was rehabilitating Snowball. That was all. “And how you want someone to provide proper…instinctual stickers? Sorry, I must’ve misheard that part.”

“A gold star for every instinct! Narf!” Pinky cheered.

Brain wasn’t surprised that Pinky had misconstrued his intentions into something sentimental and nonsensical. “Intellectual stimulation. I will not tolerate Snowball wasting away on newspaper strips and food pellets.”

“I’d have to purchase supplies, but I’m sure I could create a miniature obstacle course for Snowball, in addition to setting up challenges where he’d need to solve a problem to get food,” Ellie said, glancing at Snowball curiously. “Did you name him Snowball because of his belly?”

“Yes,” Brain said quickly. He felt Pinky’s gaze on his neck, but waved off his concern. “Moving along, what would be your goal if I allowed you to keep Snowball?”

If Ellie noticed his deflection, she didn’t comment. “Finish my dissertation. I’m working on a PhD in psychology. More specifically, how animals affect human behavior. I’d show you if I had the documents, but your wife caught me while I was on my way home from the local university. She’s very persuasive.”

“At night?” Pinky gasped, hands flying up to his mouth.

“Pepper spray and several self-defense courses. I can take care of myself,” Ellie reassured him.

Pinky wiped an invisible bead of sweat off his forehead in relief.

“And that’s all? Just a means to an end?” Brain growled, hand twitching towards the eject button.

He might’ve been curious about her PhD’s before, but now he knew her motivation. Snowball would be used and thrown away. Her pitch had been excellent at first, but she slipped.

“Animals can help humans develop empathy,” Ellie replied. “That’s my topic.”

Brain’s fur bristled faster than Pinky could smooth it down. There had been no empathy when he was robbed of his childhood best friend. No understanding of anything he’d been forced to suffer through on his quest for world domination.

“Brain?” Pinky asked, his voice cutting into the haze. “Can we let Snowball see her? He should have a say too.”

“Oh yes, Pinky. Brilliant idea. Because Snowball can think for himself,” Brain muttered.

Pinky shuffled over to the pincushion, mindful of the long hem. Before Brain could stop him, he shook Snowball awake. Brain gritted his teeth, remembering too late that Pinky didn’t understand sarcasm.

“Wakey, wakey,” Pinky hummed in Snowball’s ear. “Someone wants to meet you.”

Snowball’s nose twitched, his legs kicked out, and he yawned luxuriously before finally crawling off the pincushion.

“He’s adorable,” Ellie smiled, though she thankfully refrained from making those ridiculous high-pitched noises humans seemed to emit whenever they were addressing animals.

Still, Brain crossed his arms. There were better adjectives to describe Snowball. Greedy, selfish, and irritating were the first ones he could think of.

Ellie placed her hand on the table while Pinky directed Snowball over. Snowball sniffed her fingers twice, then balanced on the edge of the table.

Brain saw Snowball’s hind muscles tense. He abandoned his chair, knocking it over as he rushed to help Pinky cling to Snowball’s back and balance his weight so he didn’t fall off. Snowball wasn’t enhanced anymore. A fall from this height could be dangerous.

But Snowball had no qualms and launched himself onto Ellie’s purse, Brain nearly falling over the edge himself if it hadn’t been for Pinky latching onto his bent tail and hauling him back to safety. Snowball burrowed underneath the flap that held her purse closed.

Just as Brain recovered from his adrenaline rush, there was a distressed squeal from inside Ellie’s purse. Ellie undid the catch and peered into the opening, her eyebrows rising in surprise. She reached in and pulled Snowball out. His incisors were caught in a plastic wrapped apple.

Snowball screeched, limbs flailing as Ellie set him on the table. Without hesitation, she held him firmly with one hand while removing the plastic from his teeth with the other. “This was supposed to be my lunch,” Ellie explained when Brain glared at her. “I got caught up in research and didn’t get a chance to eat.”

Once the plastic was gone, she carefully opened Snowball’s mouth. “Doesn’t look like he swallowed any,” she reported as she let him up. She unwrapped the apple, Snowball slipping though and tearing a huge chunk out of the fruit’s skin before she could finish. “He’s definitely a glutton for apples.”

“Feed him lots of apples! That’s his favorite!” Pinky chirped.

Though part of him was grateful for Ellie’s forethought, Brain wrenched Snowball’s jaw open to see for himself. Snowball made a muffled noise at Brain’s rough handling.

Her work had been thorough. No trace of plastic in sight.

The incident proved that Snowball’s health and well-being would be taken care of. Brain had run out of excuses.

His observations converged into one conclusion.

“You passed,” Brain murmured.

Ellie was taking Snowball home. He would never see Snowball again. Wasn’t that the plan all along? To find someone who would care for Snowball?

Then…

Why was he hoping for a failure?

Ellie glanced at him as she ran a finger across Snowball’s back. Snowball didn’t seem to mind. “Did you say something?”

“Just take him! Take him and leave already!” Brain spat.

He stomped over to his miniature desk, slamming one fist into its side. He didn’t make it to the chair though.

His legs buckled before he could sit down, and he couldn’t make them move. His throat felt too tight, his lungs aching for air. Or maybe it was his heart’s fault. Perhaps it was a heart attack causing the pain in his chest. He no longer had the strength to hold his ears up, and they fell limp, broadcasting his vulnerability to the world.

Harsh, ugly noises clawed their way out of his throat. They came fast, merciless, and innumerable.

A warm presence settled against his side, drawing him closer until Brain’s head rested against fabric and fur. Like a child, he sought out the source and clung so it wouldn’t disappear.

“Ellie’s waiting outside, Brain,” a voice whispered in his ear. “I asked her to give us time to say goodbye.”

Goodbye was such a final word.

“Why?” Brain choked, once he found the proper syllable.

“Cause you didn’t get to say goodbye before.”

As though it was the most obvious thing in the world. But Pinky only knew the bare facts of the sorrowful tale, the sparse details Brain had shared with him. How Pinky inferred it was beyond Brain.

He wanted to deny it. Argue that an angry goodbye still counted as a goodbye.

But he never had the opportunity to say goodbye with any sort of emotion, rendering it a moot point.

“I don’t know, Pinky,” Brain murmured. He wiped at the tear tracks on his cheeks, noticing little damp spots all over his disguise. “It seems so…absolute.”

“Poit. You always help me when the words swirl like Campbell’s alphabet soup on my tongue. You just need the right letters,” Pinky declared. He stood up and helped Brain to his feet.

Brain blinked the rest of the dampness away. He took a deep breath, then took a step towards Snowball, who was watching him curiously while scarfing down the last of the apple.

And he froze.

Each step brought him closer to saying that final word.

Pinky nudged him from behind, helping him step forward when he was too afraid to do it himself.

“Snowball, come here,” Brain ordered. It took all his willpower to keep his voice steady.

And Snowball obeyed. He looked at Brain innocently, like nothing had ever changed between them. Like the world had never gotten in the way.

The words didn’t come.

Brain threw his arms around Snowball’s neck, eliciting a surprised squeal. But Snowball didn’t pull away, and Brain committed the feel of his fur without barriers to memory.

Then Brain released him, fearing that prolonged contact would result in a crying spell that would never cease.

The carrier was on a nearby counter. It was time for Snowball to go in.

Brain didn’t bribe Snowball with food this time. He didn’t need to. Snowball followed him across the longboard that served as a bridge between the table and counter, trusting Brain even as he led him into the carrier.

It was lined with several soft, fluffy hand towels. Pinky had plucked them out of the lab’s selection. His choices were excellent. Snowball would be comfortable despite the cramped space. Squeezing past Snowball, Brain moved out of the carrier and firmly latched the door behind him.

Snowball shuffled over to Brain, front paws grasping the bars as he balanced on his hind legs.

Brain placed a hand against Snowball’s stomach, the warm white fur intermingling with the cold mesh of the carrier. There was a barrier that could never be crossed.

Snowball closed his eyes, a pleased trill escaping him.

Pinky stood off to the side and pursed his lips together as he tried to stay quiet. He wasn’t successful, but Brain appreciated the gesture.

“I lied earlier, Pinky,” Brain admitted as he stroked Snowball’s fur through the bars. Tickling wasn’t something he could ever go back to. “Snowball wasn’t named for his physical characteristics.”

Pinky blinked. “Did you name him like you named me?”

Of course Pinky would view it at a sentimental angle. It was just a fact and nothing more. But since Brain brought it up, he supposed he owed Pinky an explanation.

“We learned how to read together after our splicing. One night, someone left a book behind. Animal Farm, by George Orwell. There was a character…a pig named Snowball. The pig led a revolution against the farmer, and inspired both of us with his ideals of a better world. And I told him to take on Snowball’s identity, because he loved the character so much.”

Pinky was quiet for a moment, then he offered Brain a tiny smile.

“Thanks for telling me, Brain,” he said, unmistakable sincerity pouring from every word.

“Yes, but don’t get used to it,” Brain replied. “If you have anything you wish to tell Snowball, now would be the time.”

With some trepidation, Brain removed his hand from Snowball’s stomach and stepped away from the carrier. Snowball whined in protest, but Brain didn’t give in. This would be the last time he’d ever touch Snowball.

“Snowball,” Pinky began. The hamster paid no attention to him and only focused on Brain, but Pinky refused to let it discourage him. “I promise I’ll take care of Brain. Make sure you watch him on TV when he gets to be king of the world! Don’t worry. I’ll hold onto him so he doesn’t fall off the boat. Eat your veggies, brush your teeth, drink lots of milk…”

Seeing that Pinky had nothing of substance to say, Brain ordered him to bring Ellie in. Brain closed his eyes, the brief silence reminding him of the nights when it had just been him and Snowball fighting to make sense of an oppressive world.

Snowball would have a fresh start. Someone he could make fond memories with, memories that wouldn’t be tainted by loss, hatred, and anger.

In the end, that was all Brain wanted for Snowball. Just the simple joy of knowing someone would care about him.

He heard the clack of Ellie’s heels against tile, Pinky tripping over his hem again, and Snowball scratching at the bars of the carrier.

Brain opened his eyes, bowing his head as Ellie lifted the small carrier off the counter.

“I apologize for my outburst earlier,” Brain said. “Take care of Snowball. He was...is very important to me.”

Ellie nodded. “It’s alright. And I promise I will. Best of luck during your move.”

She stopped halfway out the door, letting Snowball see them one final time. Brain held up one hand. That was all he could manage.

Snowball gripped the mesh and squealed. It could’ve meant anything, but Brain decided to interpret it as a goodbye for his peace of mind.

“Good luck with your dessertation!” Pinky called after her. “Save me a slice if the judges don’t eat it all first!”

The familiar inanity helped the ache in his chest. Not enough to heal completely, but just enough to close the hole.

Brain headed over to the window, and Pinky dutifully followed. Ellie crossed the street, rounded the corner, and then she and Snowball were gone.

They shed their disguises. Their mission was complete, and there was no need for clothing anymore.

Brain stood there, raw and exposed, the complete opposite of what an emperor should project to the world.

The tears fell anew.

Pinky tucked Brain under his arm, humming a soothing melody into his ear. Bracing himself against Pinky’s side, he allowed himself to speak those final words.

“Goodbye, old friend.”

And it was freeing.

End notes: I think this is the most tonal shifts I’ve ever had in a oneshot. Pinky keeps breaking into the angst.

Hope you enjoyed, because this fic was a challenge. A fun challenge, but there were parts where I needed to take a moment and scream into the void.

#pinky and the brain #patb fanfiction #patb snowball

12 notes · View notes

sauveteen · 5 years ago

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Something Old, Something New | Stuck Together Epilogue

hi! this is a repost. grace and i co-wrote stuck together, and since she deleted her blog ( :(( ), i am reuploading all the extras! here’s 9.2k of our local Dumbasses and their happy ending.

if you haven’t read Stuck Together yet, it’s not too late my friends

There’s a lot of things people think they have to say when someone mentions a wedding, or rather, a wedding day. They're all stupidly cheesy quotes, always along the lines of ‘Two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.’ or, Nadine's favourite: ‘When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.’ That one makes her want to throw up a little, because by the time you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, there's a very probable chance that you already are. Extravagant weddings to Nadine are like birthday parties; sure, they're fun, but you're turning a year older anyway. Does it really matter if you show the world? If it was up to her, Nadine would've dragged Shawn by his stupidly long curls and married him in a dumpster, but it wasn't up to her for that very reason. It was up to her mother and Shawn's mother and their friends and their pets and fuck — whatever. (At least Nadine’ll end up with some cool pictures for her private Instagram and exactly twenty seven followers. Content grind and all, you know?)

Point is, wedding days aren't all that. So when Nadine’s eyes fly open at the sound of her alarm, she immediately feels the persistent knot in her gut start to tighten. Gingerly turning to her side, Nadine reaches around for Shawn, heart sinking when she realizes that he isn't there. He’s probably somewhere with Brian and Andrew, still snoring softly into his pillow, because all he has to do is shower and put on a suit. Men have it so easy.

She reaches over for her phone, blearily scrolling through her notifications, face half sunken into her pillow. There’s some from family she hasn’t seen or heard from in a while, all different variations of Can’t wait to see you, congrats! Nadine replies to a few friends who say they’re so excited for her, and she scrolls through her notifications again. Unconsciously, she searches for her dad’s number, but it never shows up.

She doesn’t let it upset her, or really, she doesn’t have time to; Anaya bursts into the room like she owns the place, shooing Nadine up and out of bed. “Get in the shower!” she yells, pinching Nadine’s side. Nadine yelps loudly, jumping as she grabs a towel from the rack, shutting the door behind her. She leans against it, breathing heavily. She wishes Shawn were here.

Nadine closes her eyes and tilts her head back, thinking of exactly what he’d say to her if he was there. It’s fine, Nads. We can go to the courthouse if you want. Just me, you, and a random person off the street to be our witness. She’d shake her head and say, No, Shawn. We planned this wedding, we have to go through with it, as tempting as that sounds. And Shawn would nod and say, You’re right. But it’s the same principle. Just you and me, baby. Don’t think about anyone else. And she’d know he was right. So she lets those thoughts comfort her, stepping under the warm water, running the razor over her already waxed everything. Just to make sure.

Nadine lathers the soap in the washcloth and lets her thoughts wander. She’s going to blow dry her hair, and then her mom is going to go through it with a curling iron, and then someone’s going to do her makeup (maybe Karen?), and she’ll text Shawn to see how everything’s going on his end. She hopes her mom doesn’t try to do the ‘something old, something new’ tradition, because she doesn’t want to cry when she sees something of her late grandmother’s when her makeup’s just been done. She misses her grandma a lot, right now. Her grandma would probably tell her mom to calm down, and Nadine needs that right now. She needs everyone to calm down, because she isn't calm, and if everyone else isn't either then God knows how Nadine's going to get through this day. She rubs the soap in particularly harshly, and hisses. Not a day for her inner masochist to shine through.

“Deen, baby?” Anaya says through the door, and her gentle knocks are thunder to Nadine’s ears. She blinks, inhaling sharply, and shuts off the water. “Are you almost done?”

“Not yet, mum. Have to wash my hair!” she calls back, waits for Anaya’s footsteps to fade, and then she turns the water back on. Nadine tips her head back on the tile, letting the scalding water run over her skin, and tries to even her breaths. She imagines Shawn again, his hands on her shoulders, telling her to just breathe with him. Come on, Nads, he'd say, nothing to worry about, yeah? And he'd be right, because there isn't anything to worry about. It's her wedding day. She's getting married to the love of her entire fucking life, and she'll be damned if she lets herself ruin it. So she forces her thoughts down her throat, and wills some sense of gratitude into her head. Hums a tune to herself, recognizes it as Shawn’s, and softly smiles to herself. She's marrying him. She's marrying the man who’s made her life into one big, melodramatic song, and she's never been more in love.

She plays the thought over and over in her head, and her irrational worries and anxieties give way to the warmth and excitement that starts bubbling in her chest. Nadine practically grins as she rinses the shampoo from her hair, squealing giddily at one point. She’s marrying Shawn today. It’s actually happening. She’s really going to be his forever, and she can’t fucking wait. Once the whole thing is over and she’s in bed with him and she’s staring at him and they’re alone and together and married she’s going to kiss the living daylights out of him, and maybe fuck the living daylights out of him, too. And she can’t. Fucking. Wait.

Fifteen minutes and one shitty blow dry job later, Nadine’s walking out of the bathroom in a robe and nothing else, and her mom is brandishing the curling iron like a magician’s wand. It makes Nadine laugh, and the knot in her chest loosens. She's surrounded by people she loves, and she's in love with her best friend and so she has no reason to be sad. (Tell that to her head, though. Nadine's trying. She's trying, and maybe it's working, but the little flicker of sadness never goes away.) She starts to twist a loose thread on her robe, and then untangles it. And she keeps doing that, and pretends like it's the worrisome knot in her chest that she's playing with.

“Are you ready?” Anaya asks, and Nadine shrugs, because how could she not be? She’d have to be, anyway. Anaya sits her down in the chair, and runs a hand through her curls. She clicks her tongue, walking to the bathroom. “You did a shitty job with your hair, you know.”

“I tried!” (She didn’t, and she knows it.)

“I know you didn’t.” Anaya plugs the blowdryer in, working it in a way only she knows how to do. “How come you never learned to do this?”

“You always did it for me!” Nadine exclaims. “And now Shawn does it for me. I miss Shawn.” She sticks her bottom lip out, and Anaya blows the warm air in her face. “Hey!”

“Stop pouting. No worry lines on your big day.” They work together in silence, Nadine sectioning off hair for her while her mom dries it as best she can. Nadine looks up at her, her beautiful, amazing, hard-headed mother (she knows where she gets it from), and wants to cry. She takes a deep breath. Pull it together, Nads. She can’t cry just yet, she has to save it for her vows. “Nadine, love?”

“Hm?”

“Your father isn’t coming. I got an email this morning.” Nadine blinks, and she feels it. She feels the knot tying around itself, over and over again, and it gets kind of hard to breathe when her chest aches like that. Her mother didn’t even put piece of shit in front of ‘father’, meaning she’s serious. She's getting married and her father didn't even have it in him to at least call and let her down. He sent an email. A fucking email. Nadine takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, mumma.” Nadine blinks again, and then she’s fine. She’s extremely totally fine and she doesn’t need Shawn at all. She's an independent woman and she doesn't need her stupid boy fiancé. She’ll see him later. For amazing post-marriage, pre-honeymoon sex. “It’s fucking whatever. I knew it was a long shot, anyway.”

(Just because she knew it was a long shot didn't mean that she wasn't hoping for it to happen. Camila Cabello got married recently, and Shawn took Nadine to the wedding, and Nadine cried. Camila and Shawn and literally everyone else in the hall and on the fucking internet thought it was because she was happy for Camila, and she was, but that wasn't it. She was crying because Camila’s father walked her down the aisle and he was crying because he was so happy and deep inside, Nadine knew she wouldn't have that. And then she felt bad, because she was making it all about herself, and so she put on a smile and helped Camila change into her reception dress. She knew what she was doing when she mailed her father the wedding invitation, knew that she was only signing up for heartbreak. But she had hope, because she still loves him, she guesses. He's still her father, and she still loves him, and she wishes now more than ever that she could've done something to have him stay.)

“You sure?” Anaya’s gentle voice plunges her back into reality. She unplugs the blow dryer, kissing the top of Nadine’s head, and Nadine lets her eyes flutter shut at the affection. Pretends like she isn't actually pushing tears back in. She loves her mother, her mother who stayed, and lets that thought consumer her. “It doesn’t have to be fucking whatever.” She turns the curling iron back on, waving her hand over it, and nods. “Good, still warm.”

“Well, it is. Fucking whatever, I mean.” There’s a long lull, Anaya working on Nadine’s hair while she sits and stares at herself in the mirror. The flicker of sadness in her chest is becoming more like a flame. Nadine shoots off a text to Shawn asking how he is just as Karen and Aaliyah come stumbling through the door. Nadine narrows her eyes at the both of them, and Aaliyah just smiles. “Does everyone have a key to this room?”

“Not Shawn!” Aaliyah says, smiling like she’s got a secret. Nadine rolls her eyes. “Anaya, will you do my hair too?”

“Of course I will!” she exclaims, finishing the last curl on Nadine. Nadine tilts her head, staring at the way the curls frame her face. She sighs, eyes narrow. Is her face always this puffy? Maybe she needs a cold washcloth. Why is she so red? She hopes someone has color correcting concealer, because she doesn’t. She thought she was going to be dark enough by this time of year to miss any weird redness. She shakes her head.

“I’m going to start my makeup, I think,” she says to no one in particular, and Karen looks up from her perch on the bed, where she’s been reading some magazine. (She's also tearing up, just a little. She can't believe the girl who cried in her lap years ago is marrying her son today. Anaya teases her about it, but Karen really doesn't give a single shit. It's not her fault that her best friend is made of stone.)

“Aaliyah said she would help you, honey.” Karen comes to sit next to her, and squeezes her hand. Karen always knows what she needs. She shuts her eyes tight. No tears yet. Why is it okay for Karen to cry while she has to hold it in?

“I will when my hair is done,” she hears Aaliyah say. Nadine nods, and she spreads the primer over her face, deliberately rubbing it in. She takes her foundation and a fresh, new blender, and smears it, making sure its as blended as possible. Karen smooths out a spot Nadine missed, and then kisses her temple, and she feels so loved and unloved at the same time that she might actually cry. But she won’t, because then her makeup would be ruined. Karen gets up, going to her best friend. Nadine takes a deep breath. Aaliyah taps her thigh, and Nadine turns to her. “Ready? Oh shit, you already did your foundation.”

“Shit,” Nadine agrees, and the moms laugh from where they’re doing their own hair. “Can you still do my eye makeup?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Aaliyah pulls out her bag, revealing what Nadine thinks is too many products. “Don’t worry, Nads. I got you.” Nadine closes her eyes and lets Aaliyah work her magic. Her mind wanders again, and she thinks about her mom.

Twenty six years ago her mom got married to her dad, and then two years later, there was Nadine. And then six years after that, there was no dad except for on birthdays and sometimes Christmas, but rarely. And Nadine thinks about that, and she thinks her mom might be the single strongest woman on earth for dealing with that, and dealing with all of Nadine’s questions about why ‘daddy won’t call back.’ Nadine sniffles, and Aaliyah cups her face gently.

“You okay?” she whispers, and Nadine nods, keeping her eyes closed. Her mom dealt with so much fucking shit, and she went through all of this, all of what Nadine is going through right now and will go through with. The cold feet, the wedding dress, the vows, the kiss. She got married to a man she thought was going to be her Shawn. That hits her straight in the heart, and suddenly it isn't a knot, it's a giant, massive hole in her heart that Nadine doesn't know how to fill. “Look down for me, Nads,” she hears, and feels her mascara being put on. She can’t cry right now. She can’t. It’s not— she reaches for her phone. “‘Kay, now up, please.” She unlocks it with her thumb, and Aaliyah pats her face, knowing Nadine needs space. Nadine loves her for it. “You can finish up, yeah? You’re good at blending your face.”

Nadine nods, texting Shawn. hello hi bb please answer me. She puts on her powder foundation, and then blush. Nadine blinks at herself. Her puffiness and redness is gone, replaced by Nadine-who’s-getting-married, and her phone buzzes.

Shawn <33

Hey, just saw this lol sorry! I’m great. You doing good? I hope Mom and Liyah aren’t being too wild

Nadine puts her phone down, slowly applying both liquid and powder highlight, and she sniffles again. She sees her mother frown out of the corner of her eye. “Are you getting sick?” Anaya asks, concern lacing her voice, and Nadine shakes her head. She knows she’s being uncharacteristically quiet and she knows they’ve noticed and that makes her want to curl into a ball on the bed and sob until they call Shawn and tell him to come over here because she’s hysterical but also, really, she doesn’t want that at all. She puts the highlight brush down a little too hard, and Karen jumps.

“Deen, sweetheat?”

Nadine shakes her head, blinking rapidly. She picks up her phone, willing her hands to stop shaking. need u, kind of sos. im ffine but i need you, she types and shakes her head again. “I’m fine. I’m fine, you guys.” Her voice is cracking, and she hears her phone buzz again, and again. She’s still blinking too fast, and she mists her face with the setting spray at a bad attempt to keep her mascara in place.

“Don’t worry, I used waterproof,” Aaliyah says, but she’s not smiling. Nadine laughs anyway, no mirth behind it at all. She shakes her head, puffs her cheeks, and lets out a long breath.

“Better Than Sex? The best.” She sniffles again, tucking her hair behind her ears, flipping it back. “I’m honestly okay.” There’s a knock at the door, and Anaya jumps up to get it. She opens the door and shrieks, closing it. An arm blocks it from closing all the way.

“Anaya, please let me in,” Nadine hears, and it’s Shawn, she knows it.

“Is that Shawn?” she asks, standing. Aaliyah sits her back down.

“Shawn, you can’t be here!” Karen exclaims, but he jimmies his way in, walking toward her. Nadine stands up, still in her robe, and Shawn hasn’t even seen her yet. “Shawn! It’s bad luck!”

“Don’t think luck works with us, anymore, Mum.” He positions himself between the three of them and Nadine, and he sighs. “Can you guys leave, please?” he asks, and all three women frown. “Please? It’ll be five minutes, okay?” He pushes them toward the door, and Nadine sniffs, wiping at her nose delicately with a tissue. She feels very ladylike. Shawn turns around, finally facing her, and he gasps. “Oh, shit.”

“What?!” she exclaims, looking around, looking at herself in the mirror. “Fuck, did I fuck it up?” She fiddles with the knot on the robe.

“No, Jesus,” he says. He sounds choked up, and Nadine’s eyes widen. “You’re so beautiful, Nads, holy fuck.” His voice is thick with emotion, and he sniffles this time. Nadine shakes her head.

“Do not.” She walks toward him and he kisses her sweetly, chastely, just once. She pulls back, brushing imaginary dust off his sleep shirt. “I’m the one trying not to cry.”

“I can’t wait to see you in the dress,” he says, swallowing the lump in his throat, kissing her nose. And then he pulls back a little, eyes widened, mouth twisted in a frown. “But yeah, wait. Why are you trying not to cry, again?”

Nadine shakes her head. She knows if she tries to say it she’ll start to sob, and while her mascara won't run and neither will her eyeliner, she doesn’t want to cry. It’s the principle of the thing. Her arms go around his waist, and she kind of wants to melt into Shawn and forget that she's supposed to be the woman of the hour. She wants to marry him without having to worry about who shows up or who doesn't show up and— and God, she's really going through it. But she can't, and so Nadine buries her head in his chest, and Shawn kisses the top of her head, careful not to mess up her hair. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

Nadine curls her fingers into the fabric of his tee, rubbing it between her fingers to ground herself. She does this for a minute or two, breath hitching quietly and Shawn shushes her, carefully running his hand up and down her back. He's saying and doing exactly what she imagined he would, but there's a difference between having him here and having him in her head. It feels more real, and Nadine needs that. When she pulls back, hazy-eyed and a little shaken, he leads them to the bed. She curls into him, and Shawn tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, stroking the settled curls with wary gentleness. (He didn't know her hair could do that — he's so used to seeing it all wild and everywhere that the fact that Nadine can look prettier than she does every single day kind of knocks the breath out of him.)

“Shawn?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Her lip quivers and she takes a shaky, shallow breath. Her voice is small when she asks, “You won’t ever leave me and our kids that we don’t have yet behind, right?” Her voice cracks a little, and Shawn pulls back, brows furrowed.

“Nadine Anaya, what the actual fuck?” He flicks her ear, and she whines. “Why would you ask me that? I wouldn’t. Nadine.” He sounds so hurt, and that makes Nadine a lot more sadder than she wants to be, so she lets out a sob. Something dawns on him, then, and he sighs, knowing what she’s asking. “Baby, no, no, listen. I would never in a million years leave you. Maybe that sounds like an empty promise, but sweetheart, you’re everything, right? You're it for me.” He toys with the ring on her left hand, presses a kiss to it. “That’s what this means. I love you and you’re stuck with me, right? We’re stuck together, you know that.”

“I know that, and I love you, but.. but he—” She shakes her head, and scolds herself for letting her emotions get the better of her. A tear falls, and Shawn thumbs it away. “I hate crying, what the fuck.” Shawn laughs, but it sounds choked, and he kisses her temple, her cheeks, her nose. “Shawn, I—”

“Sweetheart, he never deserved your love.” Nadine finally looks up, and his eyes hold love and compassion and concern and unshed tears and anger, and she doesn’t think...he’s ever expressed any sort of sentiment about her dad. Not even when he left, not when he stopped calling. “Any fucker who walks out of his child’s life like that is a coward. How could he leave you behind like that? You're probably the best fucking thing in his piece of shit life, and if he couldn't see that, fuck him.” Nadine shakes her head, and Shawn cups her face. Her heart might just burst. “He never deserved your mom, and he never deserved you. You’ve got your mom, you’ve got my family, you’ve got me. And I’m never fucking leaving. Never.”

“Never say never, I think Justin Bieber said that once.” Nadine starts to hum, and Shawn kisses her, hard and fast but so full of love she feels her chest start to expand. It shuts her up, though, and she lets him break the kiss. She clings to him, his thumbs gently brushing the shell of her ears, and she knows why she fell in love with him. He treats her like Nadine knows she deserves to be treated.

“Don’t bring him up on our wedding day, asshole.” Shawn sounds fond, though, so she’s not too worried. “Do you believe me? I’m never leaving. I mean it. Never in a million years. We’re. Stuck. Together. You can thank our moms for that, and I do every single day.”

Nadine laughs wetly. “God, you’re so fucking cheesy.” She hugs him one last time, squeezing so tightly that he actually lets out a tiny shriek. Nadine kisses his shoulder, and takes a deep breath. She loves him so much, and she’s marrying him. “Okay. Yeah. Fuck. I have to get dressed and so do you. Go dry your hair.” He shakes his head violently, droplets of water spraying onto her, and she pushes him away. He laughs. “Shawn! I just got my hair done!”

“And you look so beautiful,” he says, cupping her face. His eyes flicker across Nadine's face in apparent pride and bewilderment, and when he leans in to press a quick kiss against her lips, she kind of melts into a puddle. “Nads, I know we've been planning this wedding for ages now but I'm… I'm still in awe.” His voice is soft, like a child sharing a secret, and Nadine's grip around his shirt tightens.

“Of what, babe?”

“The fact that I get to marry you? I get to marry the person I've shared my entire life with. I feel so fucking lucky, Nads, you have no idea.”

Can't cry, can't cry, can't cry. Nadine pushes him away, turning her head to the side, and inhales deeply, “Save that cheese talk for the vows, bitch, or I'm kicking your ass.”

When Shawn gets up, he leans in front of her, grabbing her face between his hands and squishing it so she resembles a fish. He brushes their noses together, saying, “Yeah?” He's grinning against her lips, and she's a second away from pulling him in by his neck and just riding the smirk out of him then and there. “Too bad, Nads. Can't get rid of me anymore, because I'm fucking marrying you today.” He pinches her side, and she yelps as he chuckles. “I can’t fucking wait.” Shawn runs his thumb over her cheek, and she leans into his hand. “You gonna be okay for the next little bit?”

“I will.” With that, he exits the room, and the three women barrel in, eyes wide. She frowns at them. “What?” She knows she’s being difficult, knows her mom will be mad, but she can’t bring herself to care.

“Why’d you let him in?” Anaya shrieks. Nadine pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “When there’s tradition?!”

“Maybe she just needed to see him.” Aaliyah grabs the garment bag from the closet, unzipping her dress. “Maybe tradition and luck don’t matter when you’re Shawn and Nadine.” She turns to Anaya and Karen, frowning at the pair of best friends. “Don’t make this harder on her than it needs to be.” Nadine takes her hand, squeezing it gratefully. The knock on the door signifies the photographer’s arrival, and the day officially begins.

Properly mollified, Anaya pours mimosas into plastic champagne flutes, handing them out to everyone in the room. Nadine turns on music, and the four sit around for a moment, just talking like it’s a regular brunch, and not like it’s probably the biggest day of Nadine’s life. They gossip and bitch and moan and laugh until there’s unshed tears in their eyes. Anaya stands abruptly, turning off the music, and Nadine checks the time. She blinks. The ceremony starts in forty minutes.

“Ready?” her mom asks, and she nods, thinking of the moment she sees Shawn, and how she just might have to cry. It’s okay if she cries during her vows, though. That’s allowed. She strips from the robe, and her mom and Karen help her into the dress. The fabric slips over her shoulders, and she zips up the side, taking a look at herself in the mirror. The gold and silver plated stars glisten under the bright light, and she blinks, mouth parted slightly at the woman in the mirror. The click of the camera brings her back to reality as Aaliyah hands her the little golden crown of leaves, and they all pin it to her head. Her curls are tamed, skin glowing, nails perfect.

Nadine indulges her inner seven year old and does a little twirl, giggling in the process. She feels like an absolute princess, and for a moment, she's kind of glad that she didn't get to plan most of the wedding. She'd probably be in her cow onesie, and while that sounds comfy, the dress makes her feel… royal. Like a bride’s supposed to feel. Her mother comes up behind her, looking like the beautiful goddess she is, and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Mum?” she asks, and her mom wipes a tear away. She didn't know her mumma was capable of crying, and the shock on Karen's proof is enough that no one else did, either. It makes Nadine’s chin tremble.

“You’re beautiful.” She sweeps Nadine’s hair behind her shoulders, standing next to her. She’s taller than her mom, standing at 5’8, and Nadine curls an arm around her mom’s shoulders. She turns to face Anaya, who takes a deep, shaky breath. “I’m so glad you found your person.”

“He’s a good one,” Nadine says, and Anaya nods.

“I couldn’t have thought of anyone more perfect for you.” Her voice breaks on the last word, and Nadine’s pretty set on the fact she's never seen her mom cry. Not when her dad left, not when she cried over Hot Football Guy, not even when her and Shawn got into their Big Fight. Nadine’s breath hitches, and she crushes her mom in a hug.

“Don’t cry, Mumma,” she whispers, and that only makes Anaya’s tears fall faster. “I’m okay.”

“I know you are.” She composes herself, stroking Nadine’s hair gently, pushing it out of her face. “I’m just happy.”

A choked sob comes from behind the pair, and they turn to look at Karen, whose face is buried into her daughter’s shoulder. Aaliyah smiles apologetically, her mother's shoulders rising and falling with steady cries, and Anaya glares at her best friend.

“Karen. This is my moment.”

“Oh, shut up, Ana!” Comes her muffled reply, delicate hand waving her off, and Nadine has to laugh. “My daughter is marrying my son!”

“You know that sounds wrong, right, mum?” Aaliyah frowns, and her mother swats her arm. She groans in protest, sending SOS eyes to Nadine, who stalks over to Karen. Grabs her by the shoulders, and gently wipes her tears away. Her own smile is trembling, though, and she didn't know it was possible for her to feel so much happiness in one go.

“I'm so glad I have you…” Nadine drops her voice at this, grinning gently, “..Mum.”

“Oh my god, Nadine,” Karen's cry then is louder than the rest, and she gently pushes Nadine away, “That just makes it worse. I want to hug you so bad but I'll ruin your dress, and oh my… Ana. Ana! Did you hear that? She called me mum.”

Anaya breathes heavily through her nose, hands on her hips, and pretends to be annoyed. She isn't, though. Her daughter is marrying her best friend's son, and Anaya thanks the heavens. She isn't religious, and she's rarely ever found reasons to be thankful for, but she thanks all the Gods she can for all the fucked up things that led to this very moment. To her daughter marrying someone who loves her more than anything in the world. She thanks the eternal sky for giving to Nadine what it couldn't give to her, and sniffs.

“Okay, Aaliyah, your turn to cry now.” Nadine teases, and the younger Mendes playfully rolls her eyes, but the pink in her cheeks gives her happiness away. Nadine holds her hands out, saying, “Bring it in, mami.” And then the two hug, and they shriek a little, and Aaliyah does almost cry. She hopes to find love like her brother someday, because she feels lonely as fuck. That makes her squeeze Nadine a little tighter, who playfully chokes. (And almost gives Karen and Anaya collective heart attacks.)

Just then, there’s a loud knock on the hotel door, and in comes Catie stumbling through the door, a dress bag slung over her shoulder and a universe’s worth of mischief promised behind her naughty smile.

“Did I miss something?” Is the first thing she asks (several times, because nobody actually answers her). Her eyes flicker from Anaya, to Karen, to Aaliyah, and then finally to Nadine, and she gasps. Her hands fly to her mouth, eyes widening to the point where there's just white circles in her mouth, and she drops her bag to the floor to run into her friend's open arms.

(Karen winces. She can't believe she didn't hug her future daughter to be and this heathen gets to mess up her dress like that.)

“Bitch!” She shrieks when she pulls away, and then she hugs Nadine again, and then she pulls away. “Oh my fucking God, Nad, who knew? Who knew you could actually look like a…?”

“A bride?”

“No!” Catie giggles. When she shakes her head, a perfectly straightened strand of blond hits Nadine in the face. “Like a human.”

“Hey!” Nadine swats her friend, and then hugs her, and then thanks her. Over and over and over again. If not for Catie — or as Shawn would say, Catie with a C — and her game, there were very few chances for the two to actually realise their feelings as early as they did. (Early according to Shawn, of course. He suffered for a day and pretended like he shook hands with death. Nadine has to scoff at that. Men.)

“I'm kidding, Nad.” She asks her to do a twirl, motioning a spin with her index finger, and Nadine does. She's giddy and her head’s spinning a little but she feels so beautiful and loved that the little blemish of worry from the morning is nothing but a stain now, and she twirls the hell out of it. When she stops, she stumbles, giggling, and has to grab her mother's arm for support. Anaya squeezes her elbow, letting her go back to Catie.

Catie wipes a fake tear. “I can't believe Shawn's white ass gets to tap that.”

Nadine pulls Catie in by her elbow, lowering her head to whisper in her ear, “He gets to do a lot more than just tap it, honestly.” And then the two giggle like they used to in middle school, and it all falls into place. All of it makes sense, and there's not even a speck of doubt in Nadine's head.

Yes, Shawn and her were stuck together. But they’re more than that; everyone’s words and smiles give away. They were meant to be.

Karen, Aaliyah, and Catie eventually walk outside, leaving Nadine and Anaya alone in the room. Anaya smooths Nadine’s hair back, and Nadine lets her eyes flutter shut. She feels like she did when she was seven at her grandfather’s second wedding; out of her depth in a dress, hair flying wildly everywhere, very much like a little kid. She leans her head on her mom’s shoulder, and Anaya squeezes her tightly.

“Mumma?” Nadine lifts her head to meet her mother’s steady gaze, and holds her mother's hand, squeezing lightly. “I want you to walk me down the aisle.”

Nadine contemplated over whether she should ask her mother or tell her: Can you walk me down the aisle? or I want you to walk me down the aisle. She realised she wanted it as much as she wanted a remote control car when she was eleven, and you never ask for things like those. You demand them. If you don't get them, it's okay, but at least there's never the regret of how you willingly left scope and room for an answer that you didn't want. Nadine's learned to be straightforward with life and people alike now, because she deserves that.

“I thought Shawn was…”

“I was young, mumma,” She sniffs a little, and Anaya’s lips turn down into a frown. Nadine shakes her head, smiling, and continues, “I was young when dad left. I was stupid, and I spent way too much thinking about it, and Shawn was always there for me, yeah? When he promised to be my father and do all the things that fathers do.” She cups Anaya’s face. “I was too stupid to realise that I already had someone that did all that fathers do. You took me to museums, you danced with me in father daughter dances, you hoisted my fatass up on your shoulders. He wasn't there, mumma, but you were.”

Anaya isn't going to cry. She isn't, and her daughter can get fucked for trying. “Shawn did all he could, and that seemed to be enough, but only now do I realise how much you did. How lucky I am to have one parent who's done more than two parents can do in a lifetime. So what if one random fucker doesn't show up to my wedding?” Anaya grins approvingly, and Nadine shakes her head in feigned annoyance. “Shawn's going to be my husband now, mum. I don't want to walk down to an empty altar. I want you to give me away, because God fucking knows you've earned that right.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, Mumma. So fucking much. I wish you knew how much I loved you.”

“More than Shawn?”

Nadine shuts up, and then opens her mouth, and then closes it again. She pouts. “You know that's different!”

Anaya grins, playfully pinching her daughter’s side, and Nadine lets out an annoyed whine. “I know it is, baby. Just pulling your leg.”

“You're the worst.”

Anaya holds a hand out, smiling the widest she's smiled in ages, she thinks. “Let's go walk you down the aisle, Deen. Let's give that boy something to cry about.”

It’s like it happens in slow motion, Nadine thinks. Her mom leads her out of the room, and the girls turn to look at her. She spots Brian from the front of the altar when he waves at her, and she watches him lean forward to say something to Shawn. Karen kisses her forehead, sweeping down the aisle toward her spot at the front, and Aaliyah does a salute before turning back around to wait for her cue when the music begins. Her legs begin to shake, and Catie’s turning around, smiling at her mom, giving her a hug.

Nadine feels like it’s all a blur, Shawn’s little cousins walking down the aisle throwing flowers, carrying the rings. Is she dreaming? And then, before she knows it, Anaya’s leading her to the door, and Shawn turns around and Nadine feels it all stop, the music’s big, swelling crescendo finally softening to a pianissimo as Shawn’s glassy eyes meet hers, and she hears her cousin’s son ask if that’s a princess, and her cousin says, no, bud, that’s Nadine, and she watches Shawn surreptitiously wipe a tear from his eye as her feet land right in front of him. Her heart is going to burst, her tears threatening to pour. She blinks them away, but one falls, and Shawn thumbs it away. Her mom kisses her cheek, and then kisses Shawn’s. Nadine barely notices. Shawn’s smile is the softest she’s ever seen it.

“Hi,” he mouths at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks up at him, smiling, and then they turn, the officiant beginning the ceremony, but she’s only half listening as Nana Mendes speaks. She’s staring at the side of Shawn’s face, and maybe she didn’t get the point of a big wedding before, but right now, she can’t even see the other people. It’s just her and Shawn, Shawn and Nadine, Shawnadine. He turns to look at her as his nan continues on. It’s like they’re the only two people in the room, and she giggles a bit. He just tilts his head at her and grips her hand tightly, pulling her to the side to sit as Nana Mendes talks about their very own love story.

“For the sake of this holy matrimony,” Nana starts, clasping her hands in the front of her bunched up dress, “I will try not to curse today. If I do, me perdoe. Forgive me, please. Ah, my bebês, my loves. Where do I even begin with Shawn and Nadine? God give me the strength, por favor, and someone stop me if I speak too long.”

“I have loved four times in my life. Each one more passionate and fogosa; fiery, than the other. I have known love, I have dealt with it, and I have learned to take it as it comes. But I have never known love like Shawn and Nadine’s. Shawn was three, four, when I first knew he loved Nadine. There is this saying in Portuguese.. Amor, fogo, e tosse, A seu dono descobre. Love, smoke, and cough are hard to hide. I know, since poor Manny is always walking in on me inhaling and coughing up a storm..” The people laugh, and Nana smiles. Her face, usually cold and apprehensive, feels like a warm embrace, “But no, a sério, Shawn would always say, I hate her, mum, I don't want to play with her. I want to drive cars, like the big boys, but his eyes would give him away. Always looking for her, always glancing at her when he made a joke, always lighting up when she laughed. Ah, it could not be hidden.”

Nadine looks at Shawn, and he dips his head. There's a pink, fierce blush staining his cheeks, and she’s cheesing at the fact that he’s ashamed of how much he loves her.

“I knew Nadine loved Shawn the very first time I met her. She was six, I think. These two were running around the entire house, crianças safadas, naughty little kids. I remember Nadine asked if I wanted her to light my pipe for me.” Nana laughs, shaking her head. “Little six year old, asking me if I needed my pipe lit. But even as she talked to me, as she bounced in my lap, all she could think about was Shawn. She kept asking these questions — do you like Shawn? Does Shawn like you? Are you Shawn’s best friend? Did you get a toy for him? She even went as far as tugging at my blouse, and she narrowed her little eyes, and she said ‘I’m Shawn’s best friend. I am.’ I’ve been in a gang, once, but never have I felt more threatened.” The congregation laughs, and Nadine grins, because it’s true. She’s his best friend.

“Standing here today makes me unbelievably happy. I’m sure my face gives it away.” Her face is plain, lips in a thin line, and she looks as bored as can be. Nadine has to giggle. “Please join in me the holy matrimony of my favourite children, my bebês.”

Nadine pulls Shawn to his feet, and they stand in front of their friends and family as his cousin’s daughter brings the rings to them. Nadine crouches, taking one, and Shawn follows suit, taking the other ring and kissing his cousin’s forehead. She scurries off, and they both stand up straight, turning to face each other. Nadine can’t tame her giant smile, and Shawn gives her knuckles a kiss. Her heart flutters.

“Shawn, your vows.”

Shawn looks to his grandma, and she nods. When he glances out at the people, he spots his mom, his dad, his sister, and he smiles. He spots Anaya, and that gives him some calm, and he finally turns his attention back to Nadine. She’s giving him the softest smile in the world, and he’s never loved her more. “Oh, Nadine, can I tell you a story?” he starts, and she shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “When you were just a baby in your mom’s stomach—” Nadine groans loudly, and the congregation laughs, prompting Shawn to laugh, too. He shakes his head at her. “When you were just a baby in your mom’s stomach, my mom would point and say, ‘Look, Shawn, that’s your best friend in there.’ I didn’t know what a best friend was. I was like, barely one year old.” Nadine rubs her thumb on his wrist gently, laughing softly, and he smiles, takes a deep breath. “And then you were one, and I was two, and my mom would say ‘Shawn, your best friend is coming over,” but you were a baby and I was a big two year old and I didn’t wanna hang out with someone who could barely say my name let alone be best friends with them.”

“But our moms made us stick together, and I could never be more grateful to them for that, because I got something even better than a best friend.” Nadine sniffs delicately, and Shawn’s grin widens. “I got someone who I couldn't possibly be more in love with. I remember the first time you liked a girl..” He shakes his head, and there's a little smirk on his face, “Nadine, you asked me if I'd ever loved someone like that. Like my heart stopped when they came around, and my day instantly bettered when I heard their laugh. I said no then, baby, but I was an idiot. Because I had loved someone like that. You, Nadine, I—” Shawn breaks off, and when he hears a sniff to the side, his head turns. Nana immediately drops her head, hugging her leather jacket closer to herself, and Shawn’s lips part. He continues, though, still surprised, “I've loved you like that for as long as I can possibly remember. It didn't matter if… if I lost a stupid job, or if I couldn't get a lyric right, or if I got laughed at because there was toilet paper trailing behind me… I'd meet you and I'd be crying and you'd probably be laughing at me but you made it okay, Nads. You've made life pretty okay, and I couldn't, in any sense of the word, be more grateful.”

“You make me feel the way music makes me feel. Maybe I’m frustrated sometimes, or maybe I’m too in love. But you’re like the most beautiful song in the world, and I’m lucky to listen to it every single day.” Nadine squeezes his wrist, but he carries on. “And I’ll promise to listen to you every single day of forever, my love. I’ll listen and love you and hold you when that flicker of sadness starts to take over in your heart. But you’ll always be the most beautiful song to me.” Nadine’s breath hitches, and she’s not going to cry, she won’t. But he slips the ring over her finger, and she gasps, and he grins, watching her face go through a series of emotions before landing on elated, and he’s never loved her more.

“Nadine, your vows.”

“Shawn,” Nadine's hands shake as they reach forward for his, and he squeezes tightly, a reassuring smile on his face. “I hate you because my vows are nowhere as poetic as yours, you stupid songwriter.” The crowd laughs, and Nadine stalls a bit to let their laughter die down, and then continues, “I've liked you for as long as the world can remember. As long as we've lived, baby. And you once told me this story..” Nadine laughs, shaking her head, and she can't believe that their vows overlap too, “That when I was a fetus in my mom’s stomach, you used to kiss her belly because your best friend was in there. And that's… that's a cute story, to some. But it's my favourite story that you've ever told me, counting the one about the chocolate world where houses are peanut butter cups.” Shawn chuckles, and Nadine’s chin trembles a bit. She won't cry. “Because it's crazy, you know? It's beautifully crazy that some people spend their entire lives looking for the one, but I found my person before I even found the world.”

Shawn's smile is warm, gentle, and eyes brimming with tears. Nadine reaches over, cupping his face, and she wants nothing more than to kiss him. She mouths I love you before continuing, and he grins in return. “We've spent a good part of our lives telling each stories and pretending like we hadn't already heard them. Our story is one that I want to keep listening to over and over again. Shawn, my heart, you make it very difficult not to fall more in love with you every single day. You're like sunshine on a pleasant day, when you're happy because the world around is just right, but then the sun shines down on your face and everything… everything is just more. To quote some songwriter guy that I know, You're my summer in a winter day, love. You make my life better just by being you, Shawn, and I can't believe our mothers get to see their youngest matchmaking clients get married today.”

Anaya rolls her eyes, and Karen sniffs into her napkin. Shawn's grip around her hand tightens. “I wish it were easy to put into words how much you mean to me, but it's the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. And I've seen you at that phase where you used to sign bras and wear snapbacks, so.” Shawn shakes his head, and Nadine chuckles. Sobers down, then, because she knows she's getting to the heavy parts. “People have rooted for us since times immemorial, I guess. We, however, like the couple of dumbasses that we are—” She tilts her head to the side, and Shawn sniffs, “We took too long to see it. Better late than never, though, right? Shawn, I told you that you'd end up with someone as gorgeous and lovely as you. Someone so beautiful and funny that you'd say that you didn't deserve her. So for the last time, and in English now so everyone understands, I told you so.”

Shawn’s laugh is wet, choked, and a little close to crying than it is to laughing, but it warms Nadine's heart nonetheless. “Shawn Peter Raul Mendes, I promise to love you and treat you like you deserve to be loved and treated. I promise to stand by you in the worst of our days, because there's really no else I'd rather turn to. I promise to let you braid my hair if you let me braid yours. I’m really talking too much. God,” She laughs, shaking her head, “Our children are going to have really curly hair. And they're going to have the best father, because you've been nothing but the best. My best friend, my best love, I can't wait for you to be the best husband.”

Shawn’s grinning through his tears, and when Nana Mendes asks Nadine if she’ll have Shawn as her husband and live with him through yada yada yada, Nadine says I do through the biggest possible grin, and Shawn’s barely even listening when he all but shouts I do and he’s smirking and she’s giggling and it’s the sweetest thing the congregation has probably ever witnessed. Shawn’s cousin is still confused as to how Nadine’s not a princess and Catie is popping her non existent collar in pride and the waves are crashing in the background, and fuck, they’re married now, and Nadine can’t believe that this is her reality.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. So go, kiss each other! Go!”

When the two shuffle closer and Shawn’s hand presses into the small of her back and he tips her back like the cheesy fucker he is, Nadine laughs. And when their lips meet, Nadine genuinely thinks yeah, he’s it for me. And she knew that before, but now it’s real. They’re walking down the aisle and people are throwing rice, a tradition Nadine has never understood, and then they’re in the limo, shocked into silence for a moment, and then Nadine giggles and giggles harder than she ever has, and Shawn laughs with her. They’ve technically been legally married since yesterday, but this makes it so much more real. Shawn hands her a glass of champagne, and they toast themselves, laughing about it. She relaxes into his side, curling her fingers in his suit jacket. He kisses the top of her head.

“Hey, hey, Nads,” he murmurs, and she hums. “We’re married, baby. Like, for real married. You’re my wife now.”

She giggles again, feeling drunk already, though she’s only had a sip of this champagne. She thinks she might just be really happy. That feels good. “You’re my husband.” The word rolls off her tongue more easily than she expected. “This is fucking amazing.”

“What if we cancelled the reception?”

“We can’t do that, and you know it. All your famous friends are coming.” She tugs him in for a kiss, letting it linger. “Soon, though.”

They get to the reception—halfway through dinner, John Mayer gives a speech. Nadine was unprepared, but when he calls Shawn his son, she laughs, hard. Maybe she’s already drunk. The first dance happens and she’s not as nervous as she thought, though that’s definitely the alcohol, and also she can see Taylor Mason sitting at one of the tables, looking like the goddess she is, smirking into a wine glass. Nadine leans into Shawn, whispering. “I know we’re married, but Taylor Mason is here and ohmygodshesstillsohot so I think our relationship is over.” Shawn looks over, subtly, and bites his lip, nodding. “Oh she does look good. It’s done, Nads, it’s been a good ride.” They giggle to themselves, and he kisses her forehead. They’re kidding. Maybe. The night is a blur of alcohol and food and dancing and smashing cake in each other’s faces, and by the time they get to their hotel room, Nadine is exhausted. She’s standing in front of her mirror and she’s staring at herself, decidedly happy that she didn’t ditch her wedding dress for a cocktail dress and that Shawn’s still in his dress shirt and slacks when he comes up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and dropping his head on her shoulder because they look married.

“You look so fucking beautiful, Nads. I don’t think I got to tell you that. So fuckin’ pretty.” He kisses her neck, pulling back and resting his chin on her shoulder.

He’s staring at her through the mirror, and Nadine’s smiling back with the softest of smiles. That’s her husband standing behind her. She really married her best friend, and she really gets to see him smiling at her with her wedding band on his finger.

“I love you, Shawn.”

Shawn lets out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. His grin is cheesy when he says, “Oh, thank God. This whole thing would’ve been very awkward if you didn’t.”

“Oh, shut up, bitch.”

“That sure is a romantic way to begin a new, married life,” Shawn presses a kiss to her cheek, his grip around her waist only tightening. She melts into his hold. “You hear that, Nads? We’re married.”

“I can’t believe I said I do to your dumbass.”

“Hmm?” Shawn smirks against her cheek, and his fingers start dancing around her sides. Nadine squeaks, squirming under his grip. “So you don’t want to have amazing, post-wedding, pre-honeymoon sex with your husband?”

Nadine presses her lips in a firm line, trying to keep her giggles in. (Hint: She can’t). She toys with the ring on his finger, turning her head to kiss him square on the mouth, and mutters against his lips, “I do.”

“Not a dumbass anymore, am I?”

“No, you still are one,” She shakes her head, feeling his fingers fumble along her side for her zipper, “But I’m so in love with you that I’m one too, now.”

“Look at us. Two dumbasses in love.”

“Two dumbasses in love and about to fuck reallll good.”

“Oh,” Shawn bends, arms hooking under her thighs. When he all but throws her on the bed, Nadine shrieks, but it’s the giddiest kind and she’s the happiest she’s ever been, “Oh, I think I can take care of that.”

“S’why I married you, babe.”

“Nuh-uh,” Shawn leans over her, knee pressed into the mattress, and a curl breaks loose from his well-done hair, trailing loosely over her forehead. She twirls her finger around it, tugging at it so his head lowers, “I think you married me because we’re stuck together.”

“We are. Stuck together for life, baby.” She smirks, biting her lip. “Now, where were we, husband?”

She likes the sound of that.

permanent taglist: @yellowitsmendes @fuckneymar @heavenly---holland @sinceweremutual @bluerroses @rishlo @shawnjpeg @demolitionloversss @yourwonderbelle @shawnxmendesxo @rechema @curlyfan @yslsaint @posterioriii @maddie-silver @qxeen-of-hearts @xmadwonderland @thtsmileholycow @shawny-blogs @standingandstaring @shawniesbrownies @luvluvxx @chrizzy95 @bcihadyou @sleepybesson @shawnsmoose @grittyisathot @heyits-claire @oahbooks @sinplisticshawn @prttybitchin @royalexperiment256 @shaw-nm-deactivated20191104 @curlyshawny @poppyshawn @cheerfulmendes @mendesficsxbombay @softboycal @pxrrishly @justanotherfangurl272 @tequillasunrisee @shawnssongs @shawnwyr @rockstarshawnmendes @bodaciousbonzi1996 @shawnieeboyy @i-play-video-games @myyohmyuohmyy @shawnsblue @mendols @knee-deep-in-feels @parkeraul @imaginashawnns

stuck together taglist: @martinimendes @shawnm521 @muffins-cookiesm @petit-funsize @standingunderthisrain @mendesftoakley @ourlittleshawnie @ur-prfctlywrng @siennarossi @oyesmendes @ilovereadingstuff @shawnsmoose @unapologetic-always @manar-sabahi @justanotherfangurl272 @searchingunderthestars @mutuallynotmutual @accioalena @oyesmendes @etherealchar @stuckonspidey @shawnitsmutual @lostinroses (just asked to be removed or added!)

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes x oc #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #stuck together #shawn peter raul mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #best friend shawn #best friends to lovers #AU #shawn mendes AU

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smolshadeguardian · 5 years ago

Note

I'm not familiar with any of your OCs, so whichever one you feel like and these symbols: 🌙🔥🍼🏞️🔪🌗❓

Aaaa i’m so sorry i didn’t see this earlier!! I think I found the post this was to do with after some digging so i’m gonna do it with Kaazami because i’ve been playing Skyrim again recently :D

🌙 If your OC could have one wish come true what would it be and why? Would there be consequences to this wish or would they regret it once they get what they want? What would they give in return for this wish to come true? : If she could wish for anything at all... Kaazami would probably wish to see her parents again. Kaazami was trying to return to Skyrim to visit them and ensure that they were safe when they were caught in the ambush and, after escaping and subsequently finding out she was Dragonborn, she found out that her families farm had been destroyed by bandits. She’s always had that thought that if she had of just gone to the farm first and let someone else alert Jarl Balgruuf of what happened at Helgen that she may have made it back in time in order to save them. If she could bring them back just to see them one last time and tell them that she was sorry and that she loved them, there wouldn’t be much she wouldn’t give for that chance, apart from her new family or her own freedom.

🔥 Is your OC known for having temper tantrums? If not, what gets them really angry? What makes their blood BOIL? Is there anyway to calm them down or are they unstoppable? What are they like when they’re angry? Do they take it out on their loved ones? : Kaazami is not the kind to have her temper boil over without a fair few sticks being placed first. Trying to harm her family is something that, however, WILL cause her to immediately be down to fight. She went to town on the Penitus Oculatus agents after their attack on the sanctuary and actively hunted down Maro in order to deal with him in the most painful way possible as retribution for the deaths of her family at his hand.. Kaazami is a fuzzy little ball of rage and claws and will often not calm down once she reaches her boiling point unless she is pointed towards something physical is destroy (ie. trees, ice) or is allowed to wear herself out (ie. pacing). Despite this, no matter how angry Kaazami is, she refuses to take out such rage on those she loves. A part of this is the fact that she knows how strong she is terrified of harming them. She often refuses to use the Thu’um near them out of fear of harming them after having it hammered into her how dangerous it can be for those not trained to withstand it.

🍼 Does your OC have any children or want children? What names would they pick? Are they good with kids or a complete disaster? : Kaazami, at her current age of 17 does not have a grand interest in having children of her own. But! Once everything has blown over and she is able to settle down without having a new threat to deal with, she may be debating adopting 1 Aventus Aretino. Y’know, just to make sure that he grows up somewhere safe that isn’t Riften. Definitely didn’t immediately be filled with the urge to protect him after coming across him preforming the black sacrament, noooo sir, not at all. The only hitch in this plan is that Kaazami has very, very, very little experience with children of any type and should probably not be trusted with a small child in any way, shape or form. Not that she’ll ever let that stop her.

🏞️ If your OC could travel to anywhere in their world where would they go? Why? If they could live there would they? : If Kaazami could travel anywhere in the world she would, without a doubt, go to Elsweyr. She was raised in Skyrim and, after having very little contact with other Khajiit, would love to go there in order to learn about her own kind. She was planning on trying to travel there prior to the civil war and everything that's followed. Despite her desire to learn more about the Khajiit, she would never be able to live there for prolonged periods of time. She is terrified of something happening to her loved ones after all she has lived through and would, most likely be unable to stay away from Skyrim for too long, out of worry of something occurring and her being unable to protect them.

🔪 Has your OC ever killed someone? Ever had to defend themselves against violence? How did this make them feel? Or, alternatively, has your OC ever attacked someone? Seen someone die? : Even before joining the Dark Brotherhood, Kaazami had seen her fair share of death in her travels. Her first few kills when escaping Helgen were messy, blood everywhere, hands shaking as she held her sword in a far too tight grip. When she can, she far prefers to used ranged weapons, especially when it comes to humanoids. It helps her distance herself from her actions in a way, enemies become targets instead of people. Despite how unnerved she can be about killing humanoids, it is nothing compared to killing dragons. In a way, they are her family, her own flesh and blood, and yet she must kill them, in order to protect others. Often she will lay awake at night and wonder if it hurts to have one's soul torn from them in such a way.

🌗 Early mornings or late nights? What do they spend their time doing during these hours? : Kaazami LOVES being able to stay up late and can often be found laying somewhere looking at the stars if she can’t sleep.

❓ A random fact or short drabble! Or make up your own question to ask the OC! : Kaazami, when entering new holds or towns, will attempt to cover herself as much as possible, alongside tying her tail around her waist in order to try and hide the fact that she is a khajiit. Unless forced to remove her coverings, she will continue to wear them until she has formed a bond of sorts with the inhabitants of the area, in the hopes that they would be less likely to prevent her from entering the hold after all she had done for them because of a factor outside of her control.

#kaazami #i love being able to answer these so thanks for sending in the ask!

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doreatheinvisiblegirl · 5 years ago

Text

Kintsukuroi

Just to preface this, I’ve never posted my writing to Tumblr before so if anyone has any pro tips, please hit me up! Enjoy ;)

Chapter 1

“Jeez, you guys, again?” Tsutsumi Aiko chided with a smirk, stepping through one of her own portals. “The best heroes this world has ever seen yet you two somehow always end up trapped and then I gotta come rescue you.” Her wormhole closed the moment she was through it. “If I’m always out here rescuing the number 1 and the number 2, then shouldn’t I be number 1?” She queried, raising an eyebrow at the two young heroes sitting back to back, quirk cuffs cutting into their wrists. They were blindfolded and bound to each other at their torsos with rope and their hands and feet were tied together rendering them immobile.

Todoroki Shouto was the first to respond, sighing heavily, gesturing with his head at Midoriya Izuku behind him. “This guy.”

Izuku rolled his eyes, though it was missed by Shouto given their current state of imprisonment. “Nobody forced you to follow me.” Both of them laughed a little at that, everyone knew Shouto would never let Izuku go into a dangerous situation alone if he had a choice in the matter.

They froze at the sound of footsteps and Aiko’s head shot up. “Shit, someone’s coming!” She whispered. “We have to go, NOW.” She knelt next to them on the floor, looping her right arm through their bindings.

“Hey!” The husky male voice came from the doorway. The light that shown from behind was almost blinding and it was impossible to see any of the features or distinguishing marks on the person standing in it, just the outline of a body that didn’t look particularly imposing, but she had no idea what this person might be capable of. “What do you think you’re doing with my prisoners?” The voice sounded exasperated by the intruder who appeared in the makeshift jail cell.

Aiko smiled at the darkened figure in the doorway, “What prisoners?” She asked as her left hand splayed out on the floor and a portal opened below her and her two friends and they fell through, hitting the ground within a few seconds with a thud.

Shouto groaned in pain. He had landed face first from who knows what height, because he was still blindfolded and still tied to Izuku, with all Izuku’s hulking muscle landing right on top of him. He tasted dirt. He could barely breathe under Izuku’s dead weight.

“Izu..” He choked out, just barely. He could feel Aiko tugging on the rope tying them together. “Tsut…Tsutsumi…” He managed.

“Oh!” She yelped and rolled them over so they were laying side by side and Shouto gasped for air as soon as the pressure was alleviated from his lungs. “Sorry.” She gritted her teeth.

“It’s all right.” He panted, Izuku had said nothing nor had he moved and Shouto determined he must be unconscious. “There’s a utility knife on Izuku’s belt in the front.” He offered and Aiko stopped tugging for a moment. When she resumed, he could feel ropes being cut away one by one. Once she was able to separate them, she removed Shouto’s blindfold.

They were in the grass, tall trees began a few meters in front of Shouto and the forest extended beyond his field of vision. He sat still as Aiko was still cutting away the rope at his feet, and there was still the issue of the quirk cuffs. They could only be removed with a special device and he silently hoped she had thought to bring one. His feet were finally freed and he moved to stand, his body stiff from sitting on the cold hard floor of the cell they had previously been stuck in as well as sore from falling to the earth only to cushion Izuku’s own fall. Once standing, he stretched a little and then turned to take in the rest of their surroundings. Aiko was already busy cutting an unconscious Izuku free. His first reaction was to check Izuku for injury, but he was interrupted before he could kneel in front of the number 1 hero by the sight of someone several meters away staring at them as though she was looking at a ghost. When he caught her eye, she started toward them tentatively.

“A-are you guys ok?” She was American, he recognized almost immediately. She was clearly of some sort of western European decent but her accent was clearly American.

<Where are we?> Shouto asked in Japanese to no one in particular.

“Oh, you don’t speak English.” She said a little dejectedly, looking rather confused as to how to communicate with them.

“We speak English.” Aiko offered. “And yeah, we’re ok. Well, we think he is.” She stated gesturing at lump on the ground that was Izuku, newly liberated from the ropes.

The American girl looked at Aiko wide eyed, the way she was looking when Shouto noticed her. “Where the hell did you come from? I literally just watched you drop out of a hole in the sky.” Her eyes narrowed conspiratorially, “Are you guys aliens?”

Aiko had just closed the pocket utility knife she’d borrowed from Izuku’s belt and she let out a hearty laugh. One corner of Shouto's mouth even raised in a slight smirk.

“No! We came from Tokyo!” Aiko explained, catching her breath. “Aliens.” She muttered before erupting with laughter once again. The girl looked down, seeming even more confused than before, almost as if she would have preferred to accept that they came from outer space than another country on her own planet.

<Tsutsumi.> Shouto demanded and displayed his wrists behind his back still in the cuffs. <Do you have the device?> He asked, still speaking Japanese.

“Oh! Yes.” She pulled the quirk cuff removal device from her back pocket and stepped behind Shouto, he heard the click and then the cuffs fell away from his hands. Aiko threw them in the grass and Shouto knelt next to Izuku, checking him for serious injury and the strength of his pulse. He seemed fine enough, he must have been knocked out during the fall, though if anyone should have been rendered unconscious by that, it should have been Shouto. He sighed in relief and absently put his fingers through Izuku’s curls.

“They’re not in love.” Aiko said suddenly and he looked up at her, realizing she was speaking to the American girl next to her as they both gazed at the two men. He ignored her and looked back at Izuku’s peaceful face. “At least, that’s what they keep trying to tell all of us. Anyway,” she stopped and bowed to the girl. “I’m Porter, I’m a rescue hero in Japan. These are my friends, I’m sure you already recognize them.” She bent down and also freed Izuku’s hands from the quirk cuffs.

The girl looked at her strangely. “Rescue hero? I’ve never seen them before in my life.”

“Ohhhhhhh.” Realization bloomed on Aiko’s face.

<What?> Shouto stood again, eyeing her.

“I think I brought us to a parallel world.” She nodded. She spoke English, ignoring the fact that Shouto still spoke Japanese, she figured he didn’t want the strange girl getting any information regarding who they were or where they came from. Aiko wasn’t so tight lipped, she enjoyed meeting new people and making friends, and in order to make a friend you have to share information with that person. “I’ve only done this once before when I was a 3rd year at UA. Yeah, it was 3rd year, because you guys had already graduated.”

<Can you get us home?> He asked, panic rising in his tone.

“Yeah, of course. What do you take me for, Todoroki-san? I didn’t really think about it when I opened the portal, I was just trying to get us out of there. I don’t know if that guy had a quirk or what it was, I didn’t have time to think, I just acted. When I don’t think about my destination, I get dropped somewhere random. I’ll take us home after Izuku-san wakes up.”

“Did you- did you just say a parallel world?” The girl asked in disbelief. “What is happening?”

Aiko opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by a groan from the ground, signaling the return of Midoriya to the world of the living. <Jesus, Aiko-chan. What’re you trying to do to me?> He croaked and Shouto snorted but said nothing. Izuku sat up slowly, his head still slightly spinning, he must have hit it on the way down. He’d had worse.

“Again, I rescued you guys. If it weren’t for me, who knows how long you would have been stuck there.” Aiko argued. “Why do guys always complain after they’ve been rescued? No ‘thank you’, no appreciation. Just a lot of whining.”

<Thank you, Aiko-chan.> Both responses came at once.

<You’re welcome.> She started a little defensively but then softened, <Thank you. That’s all I wanted.>

<Do you have any water?> Izuku turned to Shouto, who opened one of the vials on his belt and looked inside of it, grimacing.

“Water?” Aiko said in English to the girl.

“I could go get some from my place. It’s right over there.” She pointed in the direction of a path through the woods. She shrugged, as though she felt she had nothing to lose. “You guys could come with me if you want.”

Izuku got up and brushed the dirt off his hero costume. “Thank you.” He switched over to speaking English and walked over to her. “I’m Deku.” He stated as if he didn’t expect her to know who he was.

“Jade.” She smiled at him, whatever tensions she’d been holding previously suddenly gone. Izuku had always had a way of making people feel at ease around him.

“Like the color?” His face lit up. “You know, your eyes are sort of that color.”

“So I’ve been told.” She smiled shyly, looking at the ground. The attention seemingly made her a tad uncomfortable, a hint Izuku caught onto.

“You know, my name is actually Midoriya Izuku, midori is Japanese for green.” He pointed at his hair and then his eyes. Jade looked up and met his friendly gaze and smiled again.

She looked back at Shouto and Aiko behind her and gestured to them. “Come on, I’ll show you the way.” They followed her to the wooded path.

<Shouldn’t we be getting back?> Shouto hissed in low tones to Aiko beside him, Izuku and Jade a few paces ahead.

“Oh, come on Todoroki-san, live a little.” Aiko teased and Izuku snorted a little, glancing back to catch Shouto’s eye briefly.

<We don’t even know this girl and we’re following her blindly into the woods.> Shouto spoke freely, growing comfortable in the fact that the strange girl didn’t understand him. <Am I the only one here who finds it strange that she seems completely comfortable inviting people that ‘dropped out of a hole in the sky’ into her home without knowing anything about them?>

Jade stopped in her tracks and turned around to face the pair behind her. “I have a lot of questions. But I’m not as stupid as I may seem to you.” She directed her statement at the one person who hadn’t yet spoken her native tongue. Shouto was certain she didn’t understand his words but something about her eyes told him she was very aware of what bothered him. “I already know what I need to know about each of you.” She smiled a little mysteriously and turned back down the path, the end of which was in sight, a modest ranch style house painted red with a fenced in backyard at the other end.

At the clearing on the other side, they came upon a row of cookie cutter houses, all of them appeared exactly the same save for the exterior paint. Jade led them between the red house and the white one next to it. They crossed a quiet residential street and approached one of the houses, painted dark blue. Jade turned to the 3 heroes again, “Do you guys want to come in? I’ll understand if you’re not comfortable with that.” Her question had been posed to all of them, but the statement she directed to Shouto. Aiko looked over at the man standing to her right, a turquoise iris glancing at her from the corner of his eye, then fixing on Izuku who stood next to Jade smiling.

“It’s ok, Shou. What do you think she’s going to do to us? To us?” Izuku emphasized that last part and Shouto sighed. He supposed Izuku was right, they were the best heroes their world had to offer. True, they got themselves into more than a few binds but Aiko was a really good ally to have in times like those. Between the 3 of them, they should be able to neutralize this girl if she’s planning something nefarious. Shouto wasn’t sure why this girl was putting him on edge but there was something about her that ignited a strange fear inside of him, there was something. He wondered if the fear was a side effect of whatever it was about her, he couldn’t quantify it, he just knew he wanted to leave. He also knew it was almost impossible to say no to Izuku. Izuku always got his way with Shouto, that’s how they ended up captured by villains in the first place. He nodded slightly at Izuku, who took it as an agreement. “Lead the way, Jade” He gave her one of his best, brightest, number 1 hero smiles. Shouto stepped closer to Izuku, in a protective manner, before they followed her through the door.

The inside of Jade’s home was cozy. To the left of the entrance was the living room, a bay window stretching across the majority of the front wall. A fairly large U-shaped sectional sat in front of it a few throws draped along the top and some pillows haphazardly strewn in various area of it, with a large leather ottoman in the center of the room. On the far wall was a floor to ceiling bookcase full of books in seemingly no particular order. A television hung on the wall opposite the bay window before that wall was cut short to lead into the open kitchen in front of them. To the right of them sat a small dining area and just behind it was a corridor, perhaps that’s where one would find the bed and bath rooms.

“Do you live alone?” Aiko asked, the home looked well lived in, but it was currently silent.

“No, I live with my two brothers. Taylor and Ryan. They’re both at work right now.”

Jade entered the kitchen and collected a few glasses from the cabinet above the sink. She moved to the refrigerator and retrieved a gallon jug of purified water from it, pouring a glass for each of them on the island in the center of the room. “So you guys are seriously from some other world, aren’t you?” She put away the jug and turned to them. “I mean, it sounds really, really far fetched, but it doesn’t feel like you’re lying. And I’m usually really perceptive when it comes to that kind of thing. Then there’s your strange hair colors,” She gestured to the two men, Shouto standing behind and to the left of Izuku, so close that their shoulders touched. “I mean, sure, people dye their hair all the time, but your eyebrows and eyelashes too? People sometimes dye their eyebrows but I’ve never seen anyone dye their eyelashes, I don’t even know if that’s possible.” she pointed to Shouto. “And he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who wants to draw attention to himself, so I can’t imagine he would willingly change his appearance to stand out.”

Izuku thirstily took the glass of water she offered and quickly threw it back, the refreshing liquid sliding cooly down his dry scratchy throat. “Wait.” He started after finishing the glass, “Another world?”

“Yeah, I managed to bring us to what I think is a parallel world. Jade seemed confused that we are heroes and she doesn’t know who you are.” Aiko caught Izuku up on the little bit he missed when he was out cold.

“What exactly do you mean by heroes?” Jade cocked her head to the side. “And you, Porter, is it?”

She nodded, “But you can call me Aiko, if you want.”

Jade smiled and continued, “Aiko, you said you’re a rescue hero. Like a firefighter or an EMT?”

“No, I use my quirk to rescue people. It’s called portal. I can open up holes to other places. If I have a clear destination in mind, I can control it. If not, it’s random.”

“That’s what you guys dropped through?”

“Yes. I usually don’t open them up in the floor but we needed to escape quickly, these two were indisposed and I couldn’t very well carry them out of there.”

“Where?” Jade had more questions with each answer she received.

“A shady industrial district of Tokyo. They were after a villain, they managed to get caught by said villain so I was sent in to retrieve them.” Aiko smirked a little. “That’s happened before, usually means they haven’t had time for, you know…”

“Aiko.” Izuku interrupted, fixing her with a look that pleaded ‘Not now.’

“So you guys are a thing?” Jade sipped her own water, leaning against the counter behind her, smiling at them comfortingly. She’d already guessed but she didn’t want to assume.

“Uh, well. Not exactly. Kind of? Maybe. I don’t know.” Izuku stumbled on his words a bit and Shouto said nothing.

Shouto owed this girl nothing. Her eyes bore holes through him and he averted his gaze to the wall on his right. It felt like she was searching his soul.

“Friends with benefits then.” She stated more so than asked. “You’re not necessarily in love or committed to each other. But there’s a lot of trust between you and you care deeply for one another.” She surmised with a smile, then cocked an eyebrow. “And sometimes you enjoy each other privately.” Both women giggled a little and both men turned beet red, Izuku’s hand coming up to rub the back of his neck nervously.

Shouto had to call upon his right side to suppress the flames threatening to escape his left. “Who are you?” He spat irritated, finally choosing to speak English.

Jade’s eyes widened in alarm, “I didn’t mean anything…” She trailed. “I just- I can feel the things you aren’t saying. I know that doesn’t really make sense, but it’s just a thing I do. I guess I’m just kind of sensitive to people’s feelings. I don’t know if it’s just I’m good at picking up on gestures and body language or…” She trailed off, uncertain of how to explain what she felt.

“Like a quirk, maybe..” Izuku picked up where she had trailed off.

“What is a quirk even? I don’t know what that means. A quirk is a strange habit that someone has. It doesn’t make people open portals to other worlds or have Pokeball colored hair. Explain what quirk means to you.”

“It’s an ability. Like a super power.”

“No. My ability to read people is not a super power.” Jade shook her head disbelieving. “Super powers don’t exist. At least they don’t here. I can’t speak to where you came from.” She paused. “What is your power?”

“Um…” Izuku was uncertain how to explain One For All to her, “It’s uh..kind of hard to explain. I’m best at close combat, my quirk helps to enhance my strength and speed. Detaining villains for the authorities and search and rescue following a disaster is typically what we are called upon for. We also run patrols throughout the city day to day in a bid to keep the crime rate low.”

“And you?” Jade’s eyes shifted to Shouto, his irritation still present in his expression.

“You know so much, you tell me.” He said bluntly in a low tone.

“Your super power is being rude then?” She quipped and Aiko stifled a small laugh.

“Shouto’s power is half-cold, half-hot. Hence the half and half appearance. He wields both fire and ice.” Izuku explained and Shouto glared at him for sharing additional information with this stranger.

<Can we go home now?> Shouto asked, again speaking Japanese.

“Not yet.” Izuku replied, still watching Jade. “We just got here. And this girl, she’s interesting. I like her.” He smiled over at her and she smiled back.

“Thanks, I like you too. Should I call you Deku or Midori?”

“It’s Midoriya.” He corrected. “Deku is my hero name, but you can call me Izuku if you want. Todoroki-san’s hero name is Shouto, which is also his given name. I think he’d probably prefer you call him Todoroki-san for now though.”

<I would prefer to leave now.> Shouto pressed and Izuku shoved an elbow at his friend’s ribs, silently attempting to remind him to be polite as they were guests in Jade’s home. <Don’t you think everyone at the agency is wondering where we are? Why Tsutsumi hasn’t returned with us yet?>

“That’s true.” Aiko piped up. “We should probably get going.”

“Can we come back?” Izuku asked hopefully.

“Sure.” Aiko nodded. “I don’t see why not. Now that we’ve been here, I can bring us back.”

“Maybe I could even come see your world sometime.” Jade shrugged. “Sounds more exciting than mine.”

“That sounds like a plan. Ready?” Aiko asked the two young heroes she arrived with.

“Yeah, I guess.” Izuku rounded the small island countertop that separated him from Jade. He bowed to her. “Thank you for your hospitality. And I definitely think you should visit us sometime. We’ll have Aiko-chan bring you. I think you’d fit in well there.” Izuku took her hands when they parted and lightly squeezed them giving her another of his famous grins.

Shouto said nothing at all and waited near Aiko for her to open the portal home. Aiko also bowed to Jade, thanking her in a similar fashion to Izuku before opening a portal on her kitchen wall. Jade craned her neck over to where Aiko had opened it and could see a busy lobby on the other side. A few people stopped and looked back in, presumably able to see the heroes and Jade in her home, but most people seemed not to notice.

“Izuku.” Shouto’s tone was urgent.

Izuku smiled at Jade one last time as he rounded the island and headed for the portal. “We’ll be back.” He promised as he stepped through, Shouto following him.

Aiko waved to Jade and as soon as she stepped through it, the portal disappeared and Jade was alone in her kitchen.

#bnha #fanfic #oc #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #m/m romance #m/f romance

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