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doienseatee · 4 years ago

Text

One with the Star

Gif not mine

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, College

Note: This is my first ever au so please bear in mind that I’m still learning. Inconsistent updates for this series, so please be patient with me. I’ll try my best to update regularly. :>

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You developed a crush on the school band’s vocalist and somehow got close with him when your friend, Jungwoo, joined them. You’re too shy to make a move and so you are more than happy to be friends with a star like him.

CHAPTER 1

next chapter

As someone who prefers to just lay in bed on a weekend and do nothing productive at all, it's a surprise to see yourself in the Freshman Night that the school organized. Is it the college thrill or is it the fear of missing out? or maybe it's just an abrupt change of heart? nonetheless, the first 30 minutes of the celebration already convinced you that you chose the right decision. The vocalist of the opening act definitely caught your attention and made you stay the night and just skip your weekend movie marathon date with yourself. You were so ready to just drop everything that you got from the buffet table and watch him sing an unknown song to you but luckily, you maintained your composure and sat on a table while quietly observing the vocalist.

"Hi! Mind if I share the table with you?" diverted your attention from the stunning man that you were watching just a few seconds ago and you had no choice but to force yourself to focus on eating to avoid embarrassment from the man in front of you or at least you tried because your ears were still listening to the man's angelic voice and wondering how can someone look THAT good and have THAT talent, how crazy.

You never intended to initiate a conversation with anyone but thanks to Jungwoo's special ability to connect with people, you blurted out words more than what you expected when you decided to attend the party and you spent the night hanging out with him. Eventually, you found out that both of you are taking up Mechanical Engineering — just from a different class, his educational background (and of course, it means that you shared yours too), that he aspires to be a singer on the side, and somehow you found out about the man of your night's name: Kim Dongyoung, a 3rd year major in Performing Arts Department. Apparently, Jungwoo aims to be a part of Dongyoung's band since they amaze him so much even wayback highschool that ultimately became a goal for him to enter the band when he steps in the college life. You wish him luck and told him that you should see him on stage on the next party to which he manifested excitedly.

—

On your 2nd month being a college student, a lot happened and with a lot, it means a lot of requirements and deadlines to pass and numerous sleepless nights. You weren't really aiming to be the top of the class and you just wanted to maintain having good grades but college is really testing your capability and patience. Luckily, you got closer to Jungwoo even more and you stick with each other most of the time. You were both working on your projects together especially you were both in the same field. One day while you were both completing a requirement, he asked you to join him on his auditions for the school band — NCT. It was as if dead butterflies came to life when you heard the band's name for college stressed you out so much that you totally forgot about the stunning man that you saw on the freshman night. Of course, you didn't express your delight in fear of being embarrassed but you said yes, after all you will still accompany him .

That same night, you somehow found a leisure time and searched for Dongyoung's social media accounts and you stumbled upon his Instagram account. To say the least, he was active in posting photos and they all showcased his features that you didn't really notice when you saw him. You slept with a lot of new favorite photos and a smile on your face.

—

Hearing Jungwoo practice for his audition piece made you fall for him even more but in a platonic way if that even makes sense. His angelic voice suits Dean's Instagram so much but there were times when you just suddenly think of Dongyoung's account when he sings the piece. It's safe to say that you developed a crush on Dongyoung but you were neither gonna admit it nor make a move. You're happy by just thinking about him and you look forward to seeing him more on stage — with Jungwoo as their member of course.

You still have a lot of pending requirements to finish but you didn't have any plans facing them right now for you wanted to show your full support to Jungwoo. The band is urgently in need of another vocalist for the past member already graduated and they need a new recruit to perform with them on the Sports Fest week and you were so sure that Jungwoo will be accepted, you just know it.

The audition was held on an open space somewhere that people often pass by and so anyone can hear those who are trying to be a part of the band. Hearing the other students who are also hoping to be a member of the band definitely made Jungwoo (and you) nervous at some point but you encouraged him to not be swayed by them for he has the capability to surpass them. You were jittery when his turn was near but of course, as usual, you didn't make it obvious for you know that Jungwoo's talents. The fact that Kim Dongyoung aka your crush is just a few meters away isn't also helping. Naturally, he will be here to screen those who are trying out too, right? But maybe it was the nervousness from Jungwoo's audition that made you forget about his certain presence in this audition and you were mentally scolding yourself for that.

The moment that Jungwoo's name was called by Taeyong, the band's leader, for his turn, everything happened quickly in a blink of an eye. You didn't have much time to process everything that happened but in conclusion, Jungwoo got the role and he's now part of NCT!!! You both hugged each other out of joy and excitement only to be cut off by another member named Jaehyun.

"Hey Jungwoo! Wanna have lunch with us? Your girl can join us." was what he offered but both of you of were startled when he thought that you were his girlfriend so you two immediately denied the assumption to which they complied, or at least you thought. You were also supposed to reject having lunch with them and let Jungwoo hang out with the band but the band insisted, Dongyoung included, that you join them too so you didn't have a choice but to sit with the five men you are eating with right now.

They introduced themselves one by one from Lee Taeyong, the leader, Kim Dongyoung or Doyoung, for he prefers being called Doyoung instead, Jung Jaehyun, a 2nd year major in Mechanical Engineering too, and finally Mark, who's a freshman too. Basically, you were just talking about how their group was formed way back high school that's why Mark is a part of the band already. They also complimented Jungwoo a lot and that they've been searching for exactly someone like him and that made you smile out of pride but it was soon your turn to be interrogated. They asked for your name and how you met Jungwoo, your high school life and all the basic information including your (non-existent) love life. They also apologized that they mistook you as Jungwoo's girl but proceeds to tell you that you both look good together. Of course, you tried to explain that you were just platonic and Jungwoo agreed but they were adamant so you just let them be besides, Doyoung is in front of you so you just went with the flow to not leave a bad impression on your crush after all.

You all separated ways when it was time for your next class although for sure, you will see them more often in the upcoming days since they ordered Jungwoo to bring you along during practice and knowing the man, he won't leave you alone until you agree.

—

You were halfway through your class when your phone vibrated indicating a notification from your social media accounts. You got curious so you checked it for a split second only to see that someone followed you on your Instagram account.

"@do0_nct is now following you."

-------

CHAPTER 2

*** chapter 2 is now up :)

#nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #doyoung fluff #doyoung au #doyoung x reader #jungwoo #taeyong #mark #jaehyun #nct u #nct 2020 #nct fluff

47 notes · View notes

uwua3 · 5 years ago

Note

Hi Bunnie! Your Misumi jealousy headcanon was so so amazing! Would it be okay to request the same hc but for Kazu, Tenma + Taichi? Ty and can't wait to see more from you! 🐰

oh my gosh! thank you so much!!! that makes me so happy to hear you enjoyed it; tbh i was a bit nervous due to the different take on misumi’s more thoughtful, erratic side so i’m glad it wasn’t too ooc! for you, i’d love to do a jealous hc for kazunari, tenma, and taichi! let’s GOOO !!!

summary: everyone gets their heart broken, and you were the cause of their broken hearts

warnings: anxiety, cheating, fake/toxic relationships, heartbreak, unrequited love

author’s note: i hope you enjoy it! thank you so much for your support ♡ this is definitely on the longer side for sure, i hope it’s worth the read!!!

i explored different types of jealousy for each person and how it would affect their daily lives! sometimes, the best thing to do is not act on your impulses. is it really worth losing a relationship with someone over? arguably, the only person with a “happy ending” would be taichi~ fair warning!

word count: 4,799 (total) — 2,078 (kazunari), 1,616 (tenma), 1,105 (taichi)

music: ghost heart – closure (kazunari), shouldn’t couldn’t wouldn’t – niki, rich brian (tenma), needs – verzache (taichi)

jealousy (pt.1)

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was so hard to always thrive off the attention of others when it was exhausting keeping a smile up

sure, kazunari was a burden when he was excited with his nonstop, loud rant about whatever he learned in his liberal arts university... but people seemed to like him even less when he was quiet and contemplative. he was the butt of the joke, so he had to fake it until he made it

he’d rather be the funny jokester of the group and be remembered as the tolerated clown than forgotten completely

kazunari wanted people to come to him, be his friend, and find him important in their life. kazunari wanted to be everyone’s favorite, the #1, the name you’d say when asked who your best friend was

but no one liked him like that. no one looked to him first when a joke was made to check if he was laughing, everyone assumed he was. but it was so much energy to keep this happy go lucky act and it began taking away from his art

envy made up every cell of his being as he saw groups of supportive friends, students congratulated in front of the class, and just happiness in general. kazunari was always jealous, he wanted so much. he wanted someone to be his best friend

and then, you aced the role with no auditions needed. you made the cut, you entered his life as kazunari’s best friend

you made an effort to include him in group activities, responded to his over–the–top DMs with too many emojis, and even amused him with his spontaneous ideas like road trips to the next town over for the hell of it

it didn’t matter if he called you at the crack of dawn, you picked up before the last ring with just as much enthusiasm to go wherever to make lifelong memories

kazunari didn’t have to pretend like he was full of energy around you, because he was! you charged him up to his full battery and he wouldn’t stop moving until he had you to himself for a few hours

at first, it started out by staying a little bit longer after group project meetings, offering to get absolutely buzzed on overpriced hipster coffee he had to perfect as a barista, and exchanging obvious notes in class while getting in trouble for snickering way too loud

then it became seeing premieres of movies kazunari honestly didn’t care about, he just wanted to do the yawn trick without getting made fun of. he liked dramatically fighting over the popcorn with you before pretending to give up, knowing damn well at the end he’d let you have all his snacks. movies became any event possible: single mixers that were just them huddling in a corner planning to make the most memorable exit ever, mall trips that had inappropiate fashion shows in the dressing rooms before getting kicked out, even beach visits year–round and complaining when the temperatures were too extreme but still having the sickest bonfire

all these moments were posted on his private, more personal instagram where his feed would have your face in every row (he also posted the extremely candid shots of you, he was sneaky with his camerawork). everyone with a social media account knew you guys were platonic soulmates, people destined to meet each other and be by their side for every lifetime

it moved into territory like bringing you to his favorite secret hideouts. eventually, it came down to places he knew his other friends would trash and poke fun at. he began trusting you with his most prized places. his safe space that became yours as well

even his art studio rented out at the border of the urban city with a water–damaged wooden floor. you would drop by everytime he didn’t respond to your text within 10 minutes, with plenty of food because you knew kazunari gets into an obsessive state with completing a project in one sitting. he let you in without a second thought even though you had the spare key; now you were lounging upon a thrifted sofa staring at the sunset

golden hour was gorgeous on you, kazunari thought out of no where, shocking him to the core when he nearly dropped his paintbrush onto the plastic covers. get a hold of yourself man! whatever, he always hyped you up, it wasn’t a big deal. it was just usually, intentional

you didn’t seem to notice, scrolling through your phone as your shadow giggled at something on screen. kazunari felt sick (and it wasn’t the cheap takeout), he hated not being in on the joke and getting left out. jealousy brewed at the pit of his stomach as he faked a childish huff to get your attention. you didn’t look over, too busy sending a meme to someone

“whatchu laughing at?” kazunari asked curiously as he resumed painting, to which you fidgeted under his gaze. shrugging nonchalantly, you pocketed your phone that pinged with a notification. the vibration caused you to read the screen immediately without a second thought. huh...

“just some guy.” you offhandedly mentioned, opening some dating app kazunari could pinpoint. he didn’t know you even liked those types of meet–ups, he dropped his brush this time before fumbling to pick it up as cool as possible

pretending to pay attention to the painting, he lost focus as he glanced at your frame. you looked so relaxed, so casual, who were you so close to? you always told him about the few partners you had, this one threw him for a loop

“guy? don’t tell me my best friend is falling in love~!” kazunari quipped, feigning a pose of shock like it was the worst thing he’s ever heard. honestly, maybe it was, or he was a damn good actor and those hours of practice were working. maybe they were if his best friend couldn’t even see past his facade

you blushed at the implication, but didn’t deny it. you just muttered something about having privacy and rolling over to your side, continuing to text at an inhuman speed

kazunari frowned slightly, drawing his eyebrows together as he couldn’t help but steal glances at your backside. usually he got a joke, a confirmation he was basically your boyfriend, and they both hysterically laughed about it at the end of the day. not this time, apparently

this time, it was different. next time he saw you wasn’t sitting next to him in class, or beneath his arm hiding from the scary film on the projector, it was at the café you frequented to see him. except, you were with someone else. kazunari hadn’t seen you in so long, ever since you were caught messaging someone else

you ordered the same thing as always, you didn’t even have to ask before kazunari had it ready for you. but his whole personality was jittery, like he accidentally ate the entire stock of cacao beans raw. he stammered and his tone fell flat, contrasting his lively speech and flair for drama. he looked... overwhelmed

kazunari spilt your date’s drink last second, his chaotic mind barely controlling his limbs as he knocked over the order. as you tried helping him, every customer saw kazunari hide back in the shell he tried so hard to break. he simply shook his head and delivered his customer service monologue about being very sorry and the next one was on the house

there was at least in attempt in sounding cheerful, but coach would’ve definitely cursed him out for his terrible performance. he knew he was showing too much teeth right now and his eyes were too big to be genuine, but he couldn’t do anything else without his foot tapping repetitively

when you shot him concerned side–eyes from their usual table by the window, you looked different in the orange–hued sky. you were gorgeous in golden hour, kazunari bitterly thought as he wiped down the surfaces until he could see his teary eyes staring back with disgust. he was letting his guard down in front of everyone, how lame

he could hear your walls coming down, you becoming attached to the hip with that date of yours as you two became the only customers left. he heard it all, the flirting, the conversations that would definitely lead to you going back to their place with them. he excused himself to his indifferent manager before hiding in the employee stall, sliding his back down against the wall to sit down on the cold tile floor

kazunari found dates boring. all they led to was him getting his unfinished meal in styrofoam boxes and taking an uber to your place to spill what happened like it was a daily struggle. you laughed and laughed, never having stories of your own since kazunari lived through a lifetime of them for the tall tales

kazunari wanted to go back to that, when both of you were single and laughing together about how absolutely dumb committed relationships were. who else would they need besides each other? kazunari remembered asking, knowing all they could trust in was each other forever

but more importantly, maybe kazunari wanted to be more than your best friend. you were the one who cured his constant artist’s blocks with just words of affirmation, the heartfelt gestures making his serotonin levels skyrocket to oblivion before maxing out on the motivation to create anything that would make your efforts worth it

kazunari thought he just did his best with his friends by his side. but, was it normal for friends to feel like this? kazunari began imagining a painting of a figure, of someone that looked like you, except they were so far away and out of his reach. he wanted to jump through the frame and find you, manifest you for him only

no matter what he did, he couldn’t get the face to resemble anything like yours, like you weren’t his to claim creative rights over anymore

kazunari was jealous. jealous of how easily passerbys fell in love with the way you made anyone feel like they were the main character of their own story. kazunari felt stupid, like he was your comic relief sidekick who so desperately would do anything to be your final love interest

alone, kazunari laughed pitifully to himself as he picked his head up to hear your voice through the thin walls. whatever elaborate joke you were playing on him, it wasn’t funny in the slightest

he only wanted you to laugh with him, hell, he’d go make a fool of himself at any time even if meant you laughed at him

you weren’t one of his artworks, yet you were a masterpiece compared to any canvas he could have made in his entire career

kazunari wanted to paint you in all the colors possible, make you see how you were the rainbow after his rainy life

pushing himself up, kazunari stumbled out of the bathroom before shaking his head. it wasn’t worth it, he got what he wanted, didn’t he? you’re still his best friend, you just loved someone else, that’s all. all he ever wanted was a best friend, why wasn’t he satisfied with that?

when would he stop being jealous? (when would he be your #1 boy? he thought against his will)

taking a deep breath to compose himself, kazunari smiled and waved at the new couple. he saw the relief on your face before you resumed the discussion with the most animated expression he hadn’t seen in a long time. he couldn’t even recall when

everything would go back to normal before you became kazunari’s best friend. you would begin hanging out with the other person more, taking them to all kazunari’s best events. you would eventually stop answering his calls because it interfered with the other person’s schedule. you’d have plans outside of him, and kazunari would go back to being by himself. he’d keep going on dates and stay till the end this time, searching for his #1

(he would have to mute your account after seeing your posts with them, but he never told you that)

kazunari heard something other than you. he looked towards the window: it was raining again, again, and again. he opened his smartphone to take a picture:

kaz–PIKO [new post!]: i hope this rain ends soon!!!

it didn’t, at least, not for a very long time

🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma

tenma was what you would call, gifted. grew up with successful, charistmatic parents who watched his every move like a hawk, never giving him the time to improve from his mistakes

so every time he didn’t immediately get something, he’d give up and find other things to beat others at

the only thing he did that was acceptable to his father was acting, so he never looked back

tenma became a headliner of countless blockbuster movies and walked the red carpet as a fabricated actor with no authenticity

magazines labelled tenma as the playboy with on & off again relationships, although they were staged by his label to make him appear like some heartbreaker

truth was, he’s just like every other high school student who was really bad at focusing on academics (and had definitely not been in a real relationship)

but tenma was famous, fake friends came and went every time his popularity rose, hitting him up for favors. it was okay, he was famous, anyways. it’s not like he needed a bunch of no–bodies

at least, that’s what he told himself every time he sat with his parents at awards banquets with no one to share his success

(tenma was not jealous at all of stars with full rows of people of their friends who were always so loud and supportive)

(it wasn’t awkward going up on stage to receive a trophy with only polite clapping in the background)

you got cast as tenma’s next love interest

you were supposed to be a fake relationship that lasted longer than every other person he’s been with before

you were an up and coming actress full of potential and enthusiasm to boot, ready to take on in the industry like you were the biggest threat around

but it was clear, you loved acting

you loved playing different characters like they were an extension of yourself, paying close attention to other people’s habits so you could incorporate it in your own persona

it was strange—meeting someone who loved acting at its core and didn’t do it for the money. most people wanted their name in lights, drama with them in the middle, to have an adoring fanbase. who actually liked acting as an art form?

tenma was sure you were just hiding something, lying about your sweetheart public image to gain fans

you and tenma became public by having a public brunch date (tenma hated brunch, it was so pointless!) where photographers hid in bushes to take expensive pictures of tenma’s newest girl

tenma at first put on a facade, pretending to be the cocky star everyone made him out to be by flexing his muscles with a charming but practiced wink. why not, right? every girl loved that!

all of a sudden, you were gripping the tablecloth, dying laughing as you tried your best to stifle your outrageous response. tenma grew hot under the collar when it was clear you were very much a real, hard to hide your feelings type person off screen

immediately, he told you off in an aggressive manner but before he could apologize for being so suddenly boyish, you retorted back just as quickly. the friendly banter between you two sent sparks flying from the electric energy

those staged acts didn’t have any effect on you (unless he was in the mood for some serious jokes which he gladly fought back) so a genuine friendship formed

due to you both being competitive at heart, you guys were always caught in a friendly rivalry where you two shared real bonding moments together

your chemistry was off the charts (your managers were both very pleased with the outcome, oblivious to tenma’s defensive no ways!)

tenma’s favorite memory was ditching a panel interview without his parent’s permission to go blow his money on a popular chain arcade im the mall he could most definitely afford with his credit card. it was impulse but he texted you the address and miracously, you showed up on your own

both of you wore the worst disguises possible: snapbacks and funky graphic tee shirts as if you two were just regular students. tenma tried everything that even caught his eye, and you knew he wasn’t entirely happy with anything he got despite winning ten games already

clearly he wasn’t getting distracted enough, something must have happened on set

so you made a bet, whoever won the basketball hoops game would take all the tickets. you knew this would ignite the competitive flame within tenma

“you’re on!” tenma declared, shaking your hand with a firm grip and wolfish grin. that would be one of the last times tenma saw you as “one of the boys”

it was when you finally won against his bruised ego but chose a prize for him that tenma realized, he liked you for you. normally, he’d be showering his fake partner with stuffed animals before being ditched on the street corner, the plastered smiles gone and replaced with nasty annoyance

(he’d never admit it, but even the fake affection was nice while it lasted)

no one really liked him for him, he was just another famous teen actor with passable looks to be the side boyfriend

yet, you still got him something despite winning, giving him the plant and ignoring his surprised face

it wasn’t expensive, but it was the most meaningful gift he’s ever received

it was the first time tenma was given a present like that: a tiny bonsai tree

“maybe that’ll teach you some responsibility!” you joked, pushing him teasingly as he just stared at the little tree, feeling like something inside grew as well

he ignored it by challenging you to a DDR tournament (you won, again)

tenma began seeing the bonsai as a symbol of your friendship with him, and it felt good to finally have someone who would go out of their way to be his friend

(as a result, the bonsai was as healthy as ever)

but maybe, his macho–man act turned you off the wrong way and made him seem like a spoiled rich kid. you never could open up seriously about problems you had without laughing at tenma’s serious face, always messing up his bright orange hair and calling him a loser

tenma was tired of being a kid in your eyes, he wanted to be your manly boyfriend that wasn’t just a legacy actor

he was jealous every time you talked about your actual friends from home, who you shared everything with and made them out like they were the best people on the planet

it was silly, but did you think about him like that? did your friends even know you were with him?

tenma, for the first time, wanted a relationship that was more than just a publicity stunt. he wanted to be your boyfriend, more than just the faker

he wanted to meet your friends, then your family, and learn more about who you actually were. know what you were made up of, past the glamarous movie lifestyle he knew too well

tenma wanted to stop lying to the media because you deserved the truth

tenma wanted to recite his script about love but mean it, pretending like he was staring into your eyes and delivering the best performance of his life (if you ignore the fact he almost said your name)

but every time you guys went out, you acted like you were a babysitter and tenma was a child. you never could see him as a potential partner, just a rival who reacted like a brother would

but you read his behavior all wrong

(though honestly, tenma took every opportunity possible to have you close, because he knew you’d never be his again)

by the time the contract was up, tenma was too late. you were ruffling his hair and smiling like a sibling would, commenting on how fun it was to be with him and he could call you up anytime for tutoring. to you, he was just some high schooler who needed you to study with

but to tenma, he had caught feelings and there was nothing he could do about it

tenma would soon see the tragic news titles of how japan’s favorite it–couple split and you moved onto someone else

(someone much more serious and cool than he was, unfortunately)

tenma began booking roles in much more different films, ones with much more somber tones and melancholy scenes that fit his jealousy perfectly (he was often reviewed as having a “real connection” to his character, like he lived through the pain)

tenma noticed the way you were around the same age as your idol partner, how you actually held his hand while blushing for once. you even kissed them and hugged them in front of the cameras, which you refused to do with tenma, saying it would be weird to kiss a kid

tenma was jealous. jealous how he wasn’t as grown up as you wanted him to be. how he wasn’t mature and had a fiery temper and didn’t think things through. but his next partner was assigned and he had an outing with them soon

as soon as tenma met up with them, he flashed a picture perfect smile and heard the cameras flash behind him. they seemed to like that

his new partner didn’t question a thing as tenma addressed them by your name without noticing

that day, tenma came home to his bonsai dying, despite watering it properly

tenma gave up on you, despite the jealousy. if he wasn’t good at this dating game, there was no need to try anymore

he didn’t return back to that arcade for a while

🍁🛹 nanao taichi

the moment taichi saw you, he was convinced you were the one like every hopeless romantic out there

he was literally blown away. the wind picked up stronger when he saw you and he swore he saw red hearts around you

pretending to skateboard like he was just passing by, he bumped into you on veludo way and pretended like he had no idea where he was going

“sorry! i’m a bit lost... could you help me?” taichi paired it with his puppy eyes and tragic pout, unaware he was a bunny face to face with a wolf in sheep’s clothing

but you recognized him, the famous actor from mankai’s autumn troupe

yet, you pretended to follow his plan, knowing how quickly mankai was regaining its popularity status in theatre

(hey, maybe you’d even get free stuff if you played your cards right)

then began your relationship with taichi, where he was head over skates for you and did everything in his power to make you stay

taichi rearranged his schedule for you, staying up countless hours into the next day just to text you and have every possible moment with you

taichi always reserved you front row seats for every mankai production, sometimes even bringing you backstages despite the warnings from his other members

(they never really liked you, especially not the way you had so much control over taichi)

“taichi... you look tired. are you okay?” omi asked one day, when taichi had been on his phone the entire meal and anxiously fidgeted for a reply

(you sometimes did that just to mess with him a little, by leaving his multiple messages on read) (he hated it)

“me? i’m doing the best i could be!” taichi exclaimed, sneaking a glance at his screen to still see it dark

when omi carefully nodded and turned around, taichi’s posture slouched and the insomnia he was developing just to talk began catching up to his performance

taichi did everything a perfect boyfriend did in plays: wrote you love letters (you never read them), created thoughtful playlists that flowed well (you never listened), even learning new fun talents just to impress you (you never paid attention)

it was never enough to make you see him as more than a key to the theatre industry

to you, taichi was nothing more than a loyal puppy on a leash

taichi didn’t realize how tight his collar was until he was confronted by his troupe members, all who were as serious as it got with them

“what’s up?” taichi offered, faking a grin and suppressing the yawn building in his throat. the bags under his eyes were dark, and his blue eyes were dull. he hadn’t slept in so long. he was low on money for buying too many things. he couldn’t remember the last time he finished a meal

omi exchanged looks with the others, knowing he had to be the one to deliver the news because well, maybe he’d soften the blow a bit better

it must be bad if even juza and banri are not fighting, taichi mused, not really listening until he heard:

“—they’re cheating on you, taichi.”

taichi’s head snapped up, his body becoming rigid from the accusation. his sight landed on a digital image on banri’s phone screen, where you were clearly all over another person

(taichi remebered them, they were your lockscreen. he never questioned it)

(even if he was always jealous of how you hung out with every other friend much more than him, you own boyfriend!)

there was nothing to justify. banri explained how he and juza came upon them at the mall, and he was sorry

(it wasn’t banri’s fault, but he apologized because he was genuinely sorry for all taichi went through)

it’s not like he could say anything, the photo was clear as day! but taichi’s fists were tight by his side and he stood up defiantly

“that’s not true! maybe, that’s just their friend! or family member! i trust them, stop making baseless claims against them!” taichi knew he was making a scene, but it gave him a window to storm out of the front door and run down the sidewalk

“taichi!” he heard, but no one dared followed him. maybe he needed to face it by himself and open his eyes

they’d be back waiting for him at the end of the day when he finally realized he didn’t deserve to be in a toxic situation like this

(taichi did so much to become even better, just so you would like him more... it never worked)

taichi stopped at the park, panting deeply and leaning forward to catch his breath

this couldn’t be possible! he was the perfect boyfriend, right? he did everything for you... what wasn’t enough? when would he be enough?

but the proof was right there. taichi could see you with the same person in the image right in front of him

that’s when it hit. you knew taichi had acting practice right now, he wouldn’t know any better

all the pent–up anger within him exploded, his desperation masking a much more weak, unstable truth: fear of abandonment and the unrequited jealousy of the other person, no matter how much he hated to admit it

taichi was jealous. jealous of how you liked everyone else so much better than him, taichi wanted to be better, for you

but you were gonna leave him, toss him aside like your time together was nothing, like he was nothing

you never loved him, you liked the attention

taichi finally saw the signs, the red flags you were manipulative and knew he was easy enough to twist and break. he opened his eyes and you hadn’t even noticed him

but then, he tried to tell himself maybe he actually liked that, but it sounded hollow and fake even to him

taichi had to say no now

taichi was hurt, but he couldn’t show that to you anymore. you didn’t deserve the privilege having a say in his feelings anymore

walking by and pretending to bump into you, your face didn’t change as you saw him, simply raising an eyebrow in question

“just leave me for somebody else,” taichi humorlessly laughed, staring at the way you felt nothing for him

you stepped onto his heart and broke it, there was nothing else to say. even then, he wish he was the person you loved, even if it killed him

“enjoy yourself.” taichi finished, knowing these would be the last words he would ever say to you before returning back to the dorms

he didn’t look back, not anymore

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bitchin-beskar · 5 years ago

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The Internet is Forever Part 1

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: T (vague mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly described)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Once more, y’all have The Gay Guard gc to thank for this lovely crack. It’ll be in three parts, with this one focusing on Joe and Nicky, Part 2 will focus on Andy and Quynh, and Part 3 will focus on Booker and Nile. I’ve never actually streamed or posted videos on YouTube, so I apologize for any inaccuracies, but... this is crack, so... you should kind of be expecting that at this point.

Tags: @the-chaotic-virgo, @hi-short-for-hello, @immortalwarriors, @the-killer-queenie, @roses-are-red713, @acolorandafeeling, @bookersebastien, @fetchmeabook, @ikilledtheducks, and @goalkeepernerd I blame every single one of you for this cursed fic. They all contributed to this AU so they ALL get credit for encouraging me to write this.

Also @perropascal!!!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my works!

Please consider liking and reblogging! I love the feedback!

You know the saying, “The internet is forever?” It’s true. It’s incredibly difficult to remove anything once it’s posted on the internet. That’s why Copley had been able to find all the evidence of Andy, Joe, Nicky, Booker, and Quynh from over the years. No matter how hard they’d tried to scrub their backgrounds, a few things always fell through the cracks. And now, in the twenty-first century, with technology growing at an unprecedented rate, it was harder than ever to stay off the internet. When the team had hired Copley to cover their tracks and find them jobs, he’d known he was going to have his work cut out for him. Unfortunately, he’d never expected… this.

***

“Nile, can you come here for a moment, please?”

Nicky’s voice called out from the kitchen, and Nile got up from where she was perched on the couch, shutting her copy of Les Misérables–in the original French, mind you, Booker was trying to help her learn another language–and tucking it under her arm, walking down the hall and into the kitchen. She stopped, frowning in confusion as she took in the scene before her.

Nicky was standing at the kitchen counter, a plate of baklava on the countertop in front of him. The rest of the kitchen was a mess, dirty bowls and measuring cups filled the sink, and ingredients covered the counter. He had a webcam set up in front of him, along with a laptop, and Nile could see that he was streaming.

He looked up as she entered, smiling brightly. “Nile! Come, you must try this baklava!” He holds the plate out eagerly, and Nile steps forward cautiously, carefully taking one of the little squares.

“Why? What are you doing?” Nile asks, suspicious, as she inspects the piece of baklava, not convinced that Nicky hasn’t done something to it.

Nicky looks at her, hurt. “I just want you to try my baklava. I’m teaching the internet the proper way to make it, and I want you to tell them how it tastes!” He gestures to the live webcam. “I need you to be honest, tell me how it tastes, even if it’s bad.”

She gives him the look. She’s never once eaten something made by Nicky that didn’t taste absolutely amazing. As long as this isn’t a prank, she’s not sure there’s any way his baklava won’t taste divine. She takes a bite, and nearly moans at the taste. The buttery texture of the dough is perfectly complemented by the taste of walnuts, hazelnuts, and pistachios, and there’s a hint of orange citrus that just brings everything together.

“Well?”

Nicky’s looking at her, his eyes wide and expectant, waiting for her to give a review. “It’s amazing Nicky, seriously,” she says, grinning as Nicky beams at her. “It’s the best baklava I’ve ever had. Try some!” Nicky picks up his own piece, taking a big bite, but before he can say anything, a voice floats over from the doorway.

“Yeah, but how much baklava have you had, really?”

Both Nicky and Nile turn to see Joe standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk on his face. “I mean, if you’ve only ever tasted his cooking, you don’t really have anything to compare it to, do you?”

Nicky growled–seriously, growled–under his breath, and Nile looked between the two, confused. She was so used to seeing them acting like they were still in their honeymoon phase that seeing this other side of both of them threw her for a loop. She backed away from the couple, glancing at Nicky’s laptop, seeing that he was streaming to YouTube. She snorted when she read his channel name: BetterThanOliveGarden. She glanced at the live stream of comments and had to do a double-take. Based on what people were saying, apparently, Joe and Nicky had this online rivalry, and people kept debating their relationship, whether they were roommates, dating, or something else.

She watched as Nicky shoved the plate towards Joe. “How about you try my food before you critique it, Joe?” A sly smirk spread across Joe’s lips, and he took the plate, setting it down without taking any food off it. Instead, he strides forward, cupping Nicky’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply. Nile looks away awkwardly when Nicky moans, and she glances at the comments and sees that they’re going nuts.

People are screaming, keyboard mashing, and comments like: OHMYGOD WHAT, are popping up constantly. Nile grimaces at the webcam. She whispers to the camera, “You guys do know they’re married, right? They do this all. the. time.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder at the two men, still locked in an embrace. Joe has one hand clutching at Nicky’s hair and the other in the back pocket of his jeans, and Nicky’s got his arms thrown around Joe’s neck, both of them completely lost to the world.

The comments are still blowing up, and Nile isn’t sure if she should actually end the video or not. She shrugs, deciding to leave it going. What’s the worst that could happen?

***

Well, apparently, Nicky and Joe forgot about the live stream. Nile only found out when she went to go and find the video, only to see that it had been taken down due to “violating YouTube content policies.” She asked Joe about it.

“Well, you see, apparently it’s frowned upon when two people decide to show their love for one another–”

“You two started taking off each other’s clothes, didn’t you.”

“Yes. Yes, we did.”

“Please tell me the two of you left the kitchen before the pants came off?”

“Of course we did, we have enough self-control–”

“Andy came in and yelled at the two of you that you were about to do it in front of a live audience, didn’t she.”

“Um, well… yes.”

***

Nicky’s retaliation happened later that week. Joe apparently ran an art tutorial channel, where he did sketches, showing people how to draw anything from animals, to the human body, to landscape, to architecture. His channel was called ScrewMichelangelo, which had confused Nile until Joe had explained the man refused to stop flirting with Nicky, so Joe hated him. Nile was skeptical, until Joe pulled up an image of the statue David, pointing out all the similarities between the marble statue and Nicky.

Nile was shocked. She could see the resemblance and turned to Joe in shock. “Wait, Nicky posed for Michelangelo?”

Joe grumbled, frowning deeply. “No. I accidentally left my sketchbook in his workshop one day, and there were some sketches of Nicky inside. He used those for his inspiration. When I found out I…” Joe looked sheepish. “I was very upset. Nicky keeping me calm was the only reason Michelangelo survived my wrath.”

Nile grimaced. “Yeah, I can see why you’d be pissed.” Joe nodded, and he began to set up the webcam.

Joe had asked her to help him out, so Nile was once again in the video, this time posing for Joe so he could show people how to draw braids. She was still trying to get through Les Misérables–seriously, she hated french–and she’d lost track of time when she was startled by the door banging open. She looked up from her book, watching as Nicky strode determinedly into the room.

“This,” he said, coming up behind Joe and laying his hands against the sides of Joe’s neck. “Is for ruining my baklava video.”

He tipped Joe’s head back, pressing his lips against Joe’s harshly. Nile had learned from the last time. She got up, shut off the webcam, and left the room, shaking her head when the men didn’t even react when she shut the door loudly.

“Stupid horny immortal husbands.”

***

It had been a quiet week, and Nile was suspicious. Nicky and Joe had each ruined multiple of the other’s videos with intense make-out sessions, and Nile was surprised that they both hadn’t had their accounts banned from YouTube. Neither of them had done anything this week though, so Nile was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When she woke up one morning to a YouTube notification from Joe’s account, she actually groaned. She wasn’t sure she wanted to watch what they’d gotten up to, but she figured she should probably check.

Clicking on the video, she was surprised to see that she couldn’t actually see anything, because the video was pitch black. Suddenly, a soft light appeared, showing a shirtless Joe. He held a finger to his lips, giggling, before shining the light onto a sleeping Nicky next to him.

“Nicolo, destati.”

Nicky grumbled, trying to swat Joe’s camera away, but he missed. “Nicolo, habibi, destati.” Nicky groaned, rolling over and blinking up at Joe.

“Yusuf, what time is it?”

“Three am, habibi.”

“Why Yusuf?”

Nile can hear Joe giggling. “I wanted to show everyone what I get to see every night for the rest of our lives.”

Nicky’s face softened, and he reached a hand up, pulling Joe’s face down and into the frame, and into a kiss. Joe managed to hold the camera steady, somehow. When he finally pulled away, Nicky grabbed one of Joe’s hands, tugging him down so that Joe is spooning him and his arm is wrapped tightly around Nicky.

“You’ve got your video, amore, now let’s sleep, please.”

Joe says something, but it’s muffled as he sets the camera down. The light turns off, and Nile thinks the video must be over, but when she checks, she realizes there are still hours of footage left. She fast forwards, and once the room starts to brighten, Nile realizes it must be morning. She sees as Nicky and Joe come into view, still spooning on the bed. She watches as Nicky wakes, and sees the camera still running before he reaches out to shut it off.

She shakes her head, shutting the phone off. Maybe now they’d stop ruining each other’s videos and she wouldn’t have to listen to their complaints anymore.

***

Well, Joe and Nicky had stopped bothering her. But Andy and Quynh were a whole other story.

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thathopelessromantic · 4 years ago

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Reckless Good (6/?)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Fic Rating: Explicit Chapter Rating: Teen+ Pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Midoriya Izuku Note: Thanks again for your amazing support so far! I really appreciate all of you and your comments have been making my weeks since posting <3 This fic will be going on a short hiatus...I'm not sure how long it will be but July has been shockingly busy this year and has only continued to get crazier so I need a little more time to write more of this fic

Todoroki Shouto had accepted his fate as a public figure when he became a pro-hero, but there are some parts of his private life he would like to stay private. When he gets invited to be a speaker in a college lecture series, he goes to the meeting with one goal: to give the coordinator a piece of his mind and finally put an end to people hounding him for information about his family.

The last thing he expects is the curious, and quirkless, hero- and quirk-study professor, Midoriya Izuku, who has no interest in his family’s history, and, somehow, even more ties to the hero industry than Shouto. Intrigued by the professor, Shouto tentatively agrees to the lecture series, unknowingly intertwining their futures.

But the more Todoroki sees of Midoriya, the more questions he has. When a villain attack leaves them living together until the culprits are apprehended, maybe he’ll finally get some answers.

AO3: (x) Beginning/Chapter One: (x) Previous Chapter: (X) TDDKBB2021 Companion Art: (X)

It’s been three days since the debriefing, and Shouto hasn’t been able to think about much else besides the weirdness of everything that happened in the meeting. Even now, standing under the scalding spray of his shower, he’s going through the motions, but his mind is in the hallway outside the conference room with Ingenium.

“I’m sorry about lying to you regarding Architect,” Ingenium had said solemnly. They’ve grown and their costumes had both changed since then, but without his helmet on, head bent to discuss something quietly, Shouto was reminded of the in-class exercises they used to do in high school. Off to the side in a hallway, as if creating a strategy. Somehow adult-Ingenium had gotten even more serious than his high school counterpart. “I know it was wrong to mislead you, but I knew he meant no harm. I knew he could help with Kou.”

“How?” Shouto had asked, but even then he had a feeling he knew the answer.

“…I’ve worked with him before,” Ingenium admitted. “I know the law, but he…he just wants to help people. And he does good hero work.”

Ingenium couldn’t say afterwards if he thought Architect would still somehow help the case. He knew he would want to, but with more people involved, and more people who knew he had been there before, it would be harder. Shouto can’t articulate exactly why, but somehow knowing he might be what brings more scrutiny towards Architect makes him feel…guilty? It’s not his fault that he didn’t know, nor is it his fault Architect is technically doing something illegal, but he feels guilty anyways.

Shouto’s phone chimes just as he steps out of the shower. Even before he checks it, he knows it’s a new text from Midoriya. While Shouto has thought of little else but the weirdness that had transpired at the debriefing for the last three days, Midoriya has acted as if it never happened. He had been quiet the rest of the day afterwards, but the next day Midoriya had picked up their text chat where they had left off as if nothing had happened. The few times Shouto tried to broach the topic of Midoriya’s behavior at the debriefing, his contacts with heroes, the vigilante Architect, anything from the debriefing, all he got was an abrupt subject change or radio silence for a few hours. After a day and a half of the back and forth, Shouto gave up pushing the subject. For now.

Shouto slings a towel around his hips and grabs his phone off the counter. There’s a new picture attached to the message. Midoriya’s scarred hand holds a large navy book out in front of the camera. The sidewalk serving as a background and the blurred edges of the image suggests he was walking somewhere as he took the picture.

I found a copy of the book!! The text underneath reads.

Shouto can’t make out any title in the picture, but he knows what book it is anyways. There was only one they had really discussed in-depth that would warrant such an excited text. It was an early study of dual quirks. Apparently, according to Midoriya, some of the information and conclusions they came to is now outdated but it is still considered one of the best introductory texts for understanding how dual quirks come about with inheritance. He had been suggesting it to Shouto practically since they had started their text conversation.

Another text comes in before Shouto can come up with a reply.

I can keep this copy in my office, if you would like to come by for it sometime.

Shouto wouldn’t mind going by the professor’s office again. It wasn’t that far out of his way, and it would be a good excuse to see him and talk to him some more – either about quirks, or whatever the hell was going on at the debriefing in an environment he can’t escape so easily. But as he mentally goes through his schedule thinking of a time he might be able to get there, it would be at least another week, if not two.

Shouto grimaces, running a hand over his face.

between normal wrk nd this new case itll be a while…

Of course I understand you’re busy! Oh unless you wanted to read it sooner

Shouto glances at the time. He still has almost two and a half hours before his next shift starts. It would be enough time. Probably. Depending on how long it takes to get Midoriya to agree. He has an idea but he knows Midoriya isn’t going to like it.

are u in musutafu now?

Yes. Of course! I could drop it off at your agency!

i was thinking just my apartment

Shouto puts his phone down to find something to wear. He doesn’t usually wear normal clothes under his uniform, but he figures he has a little while before he needs to change into it. He expects to get a flurry of messages protesting his suggestion as he finds and pulls on a pair of sweatpants, but a full three minutes pass before his phone chimes with another message. It just reads: what, lacking even Midoriya’s usual proper grammar and capitalization.

Shouto snorts. He knew he wasn’t going to like it.

im at the hospital on guard today and ill be out of the office the next few days. it would be quicker

That does set off the flurry of texts he expected the first time, Midoriya insisting that wasn’t necessary and he didn’t need to read it that quickly and a few that just said no a few times. The texts are still coming in, the notification that he’s typing still lit up on the screen, when Shouto presses the phone icon next to his name and starts a call.

The phone starts to ring. And then continues to ring for so long, Shouto thinks he’s going to go to voicemail, when Midoriya suddenly answers. There’s a shuffle on the other line for a moment.

“Entro-er, Todoro…hello?” Midoriya says.

“Hello, Midoriya,” Shouto replies.

Shouto’s simple greeting seems to knock Midoriya out of his stupor, because he immediately jumps back into his protests, picking right back up where he left off in his texts. Shouto waits until he has to stop to take a breath.

“I figured you would really frown upon me texting you my address, so I thought I’d call. Do you have something to write with?”

Midoriya sputters for a moment before he sighs. “You…yeah, go ahead.”

Shouto blinks in surprise. He really expected more of a protest than that. Still, he rattles off the address before Midoriya comes to his senses and changes his mind. Midoriya has him repeat it once, just to be sure he copied everything down correctly.

“Okay. I guess I will see you in a few minutes,” Midoriya says, sounding resigned.

Shouto almost laughs at the tone. “You don’t actually have to bring it to me if it’s any trouble. I can get it from the office eventually.”

“No, I don’t mind and it’s not that far out of the way actually,” Midoriya admits. “I’m a little concerned by your complete disregard for privacy or self-preservation but otherwise, it’s no trouble.”

“‘A lack of self-preservation and privacy’ is pretty much in my job description.”

Midoriya sighs. There’s some quiet mumbling Shouto can’t make out through the phone before Midoriya seems to give up on arguing the point for the moment and says his goodbye.

Shouto plugs his phone in by the bed to charge until he has to leave. Monarch and Momo still haven’t let go of the last time his phone died while he was on duty and he’s sure even being away from the agency for the next few days won’t save him from their ire if it happens again.

Shouto is still toweling off his hair when there’s a knock on his door. He glances at the clock on his wall, but even without the visual confirmation, he knows it has only been a few minutes since his call with Midoriya had ended. It was unlikely he found his apartment that quickly. He throws the towel over the bar in the bathroom and grabs a t-shirt on his way out of his room.

He opens the front door, expecting to see one of his neighbors in the hall. Instead, it is Midoriya staring at him from the other side of the door. He looks almost the exact same as the first time they had met with his thin, crooked wire frame glasses and oversized leather satchel hanging at his side. Though he had replaced his ill-fitting cardigan with a Froppy sweatshirt and a jean jacket over a button-up. Midoriya’s eyes scan over him quickly, pausing briefly at his middle before jumping back to his face and then to the space next to his head.

“Hello,” Midoriya manages quietly.

Shouto tugs the bottom of his shirt the rest of the way down.

“Hello. I…wasn’t expecting you to find the place so quickly,” he replies simply.

“Um, yes, it was closer than I realized too,” Midoriya finally looks him in the eye again, only to look away a moment later to bow his head. “I’m sorry, I should have announced myself somehow.”

“It’s fine, Midoriya. I’m glad you didn’t have to go too far out of your way.”

They stand in an awkward silence for a moment before they both seem to remember themselves and try to speak again.

Midoriya fumbles with the leather bag at his side, searching for the book. “Right, I’m sure you need to finish getting ready for work-” he starts to say.

At the same time, Shouto steps back, opening his door further. “Would you like to come in?”

Midoriya stares at him in surprise for a moment before his gaze jumps to something behind Shouto, brow furrowing.

“Todoroki, do you live alone?”

“Um, yes?” Shouto glances over his shoulder but doesn’t see whatever it was that Midoriya must have seen.

He turns back around, but Midoriya is still staring hard at something in the distance.

“Midoriya, what did-"

A loud crash of breaking glass cuts off the rest of Shouto’s question. Midoriya reacts a second before him, grabbing Shouto’s arm and throwing them both down the hall, away from his door as flames erupt in the apartment behind him.

They tumble to the ground. Shouto lands hard on his back as they roll for a moment, the floor below him and Midoriya landing heavily on top of him knocking the air from his lungs. One of Midoriya’s hands cushioned his head in the fall, but he pulls it back quickly as if Shouto burned him.

Midoriya quickly lifts himself up, carefully checking Shouto over. “Are you alright?”

Shouto nods, not yet ready to try speaking again. The sound of a vicious fire cracks behind them and the smell of smoke is already starting to fill the hallway. Whatever was thrown has a fast-moving fire and Shouto can feel the heat even from a few feet away.

“Will your fire alarm alert the authorities?”

Shouto pushes himself to a sitting position . “Don’t have a fire alarm,” he chokes out. They really need to move. “They go off too easily.”

Midoriya stares at him for a moment like he’s lost his mind before realization dawns. “Right your quirk would probably make that a pain. Okay, I’ll call for help. But we need to get as many people out as we can before they get here.”

Shouto climbs to his feet, using the wall to hold himself up for the moment. Everything seems to feel okay, so he doesn’t think he’s injured, just winded. Midoriya looks worried but he still scrambles to his feet a moment later.

“I can get my upstairs neighbors out,” Shouto says.

“I’ll help everyone below evacuate,” Midoriya offers before Shouto has barely finished speaking. He takes off for the stairwell, glancing back at the last second. “Be careful, Todoroki.”

Shouto stares after him for a moment, incredulous. ‘I’m the pro in this situation,’ he wants to remind Midoriya. ‘And probably marginally more fire-resistant than you.’ “You too,” is all he manages instead as the stairwell door swings shut behind Midoriya. Faintly, Shouto remembers another time he watched a civilian run head-long into trouble, but he brushes off the otherwise long-forgotten memory. It was so long ago, he’s not sure what dredged up the old memory, but dwelling on it won’t help anyone right now.

Shouto forces himself away from the door and his desire to go after the apparently reckless, mysterious, crazy-overachieving civilian he just let run into danger and heads for his closest neighbor. There are only three apartments on each floor. The one next to him has been empty for months, and usually both of the Fukudas were at work during this time of day, but he pounds on the door just to be safe, calling for them both. Smoke is finally beginning to fill the hallway and he knows it will only be another minute or two before the fire itself begins to crawl its way out of the apartment too.

Shouto breaks through the door, calling for either of the Fukudas to answer as he darts through the handful of rooms laid out in a mirror of his own familiar apartment. Satisfied that it is empty, he goes back to the hall heading for the stairs. He can feel his right side rapidly growing colder as his quirk tries to regulate his body temperature. The overheated air burns his already sore chest as he runs.

Shouto is already shouting as he reaches the next floor, hoping to alert as many of his neighbors as he can. One door opens as he throws himself down the hall, an older woman looking at him suspiciously through the crack in her door. For once he’s thankful for his unique appearance because he sees recognition dawn on her a moment later, even without his hero suit.

“A fire started on the floor below, I’m trying to evacuate everyone on this floor and the next, if you have anyone home with you, get them!”

The woman nods in understanding, throwing her door open and running back into the apartment calling for someone. Shouto goes to the next closest apartment, banging on the door and calling for anyone who might be inside. The door to the apartment next door opens and a man looks out.

“What is all the racket about? They went to their parents for the week, no one is in there.”

“The apartment is empty right now?”

The man glares at him, but Shouto pushes on before he can start an argument with him. The first woman comes out of her apartment with her grandson and a small dog in tow. “Sir, there is a fire on the floor below. We’re evacuating everyone.”

The man still looks like he wants to argue, but a moment later the sound of sirens grows louder as help arrives on the scene and that seems to be enough to convince him to cooperate. The three tenants follow him up the stairs to the last floor. Two of the three doors are already open, the tenants looking out obviously wondering what all the noise is about. The woman and her grandson greet one of the two women, immediately filling them in on what’s going on. Shouto goes to the last door.

“She’s at work,” one of the women calls to him. “She lives alone. Except for a cat.”

Shouto nods his thanks for the information. “I’ll go in to get the cat. Do either of you have a window that faces the front of the building?”

The other woman raises her hand. “I do!”

“Please take everyone into your apartment, clear a space in front of the window if necessary and I’ll be there in just a moment.” Shouto instructs. He waits just a moment to make sure everyone is complying before he forces the last door open. The cat in question makes itself known immediately, rushing to the door crying for attention before it realizes he is not their owner. The cat turns tail and darts deeper into the apartment.

Cursing, Shouto uses ice to create a small blockade in the hall that leads to the bedroom and bathroom, limiting the cat’s escape routes as he darts after it, sliding across the hardwood floor leading into the hallway. He catches himself on the wall just as the cat skids to a halt before the ice, trying to turn quickly but the floor is more slippery than its accustomed to and Shouto manages to grab it as it struggles to find its footing. He gets a few heavy scratches across his arms for his trouble, and the cat does its best to escape his hold, but he manages to get it out of the apartment. He wishes he had his tool belt on him, where he might have something that could contain the cat better, and make it easier to transport, but even if the fire-resistant fabric had lasted this long, it wasn’t worth it to try and get back into his apartment for it.

He rejoins his neighbors in the other apartment. Along with the three from the first floor, there are the two women from this floor, one of whom clutches a still-sleeping baby to her chest. From the window he can see the ambulance and two fire engines that have already arrived. And based on the sounds in the distance, the police and at least one more ambulance would not be far behind. Someone offers to take the disgruntled cat from him as he throws open the window.

Smoke is billowing from a window on a lower floor, obscuring his line of sight for a moment as the winds shift. Shouto swears under his breath, he can feel his neighbors growing anxious behind him, but he knows he needs a clear shot of the ground for this to work. It takes a few minutes for the view to clear enough for him to see a good landing place. By then a few people from the lower floors have started to evacuate, and he can see the first responders meeting them as they come out. He can’t tell from here if Midoriya is with them yet, though he has a feeling the answer is no.

Pushing his concerns aside for the moment, Shouto takes a deep breath to focus. Even after all these years of playing catch up, he still has a much better control of his right side than his left, but the overheated air is already putting a strain on his right side as it keeps his body cool. He creates an ice ramp, or perhaps more accurately a slide, from the window to the ground besides one of the fire engines. It’s as far as he dares to go to keep the slide from being too steep without also becoming too thin. He reinforces the part connected to the building and as much of the underside as he can from where he is to keep the fire from melting it down.

He turns back to his gathered neighbors. The adults gathered look unsure at best, if not down right afraid, but the young boy looks excited.

“It’ll be cold going down, but you should be perfectly safe,” Shouto promises. “Who’s first?”

Shouto helps the first woman up to the window. Once she is down safe, the woman with her baby goes, climbing up by herself first before Shouto hands the infant off to her. The young boy volunteers next before his grandmother can stop him, scrambling up to the window and then asking Shouto to hand the dog up to him. The older woman goes next, clutching the terrified cat tightly to her chest as she disappears down the slide.

Shouto waits until the older man safely reaches the bottom after her before he prepares to go down himself. Taking one last look back before he drops, he sees the smoke begin to curl around the edges of the apartment door.

The fire chief stops Shouto first once he’s down, thanking him for his help evacuating the civilians and asking about the conditions inside. Shouto gives as much information as he can about the fire and where it started. He ignores the concerned expression the chief gives him as he explains how it began. He knows it seems like an attack, and a targeted attack at that, but he doesn’t want to focus on it just yet. Eventually, the chief figures he’s gotten as much as from Shouto as he’s going to for the moment and sends him off towards the paramedics.

Shouto dodges them for the moment, finding the neighbors he helped down first to make sure everyone actually made it down unharmed. Everyone seems okay, the baby somehow still blissfully asleep and the young boy excitedly asks Shouto if he can go down his ice slide again some other time. One of the first responders found a carrying case for the cat until they could get ahold of its actual owner. He recognizes a few of the other neighbors gathered around from the lower floors. A few have shock blankets on and one person is perched in an ambulance with a paramedic attached to an oxygen machine, but there don’t seem to be any major injuries.

Midoriya is arguing with a paramedic, insisting someone else is in more pressing need of care when Shouto finally approaches one of the ambulances.

“What’s that saying about doctors being the worst patients?” Shouto asks.

Midoriya jumps, startled by his arrival, though he quick recovers from his shock to glare at Shouto.

The paramedic throws his hands up. “Entropy, please try and talk some sense into him. This is the fourth time he’s refused care.” The paramedic turns back to Midoriya and waves a warning finger at him. “I’m running out of other patients to look at.” He warns before storming off.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Shouto asks once they’re alone. Midoriya mostly looks okay, his glasses are missing and he’s a little sooty and disheveled, but Shouto figures everyone probably looks about the same in that regard.

“Nothing,” Midoriya starts to say as someone nearby loudly clears their throat over him. Midoriya scowls. “I think I might have landed on my hand funny earlier, but it’s fine, probably just sore.”

Shouto frowns. “You should at least have someone look at it, just in case.”

Midoriya opens his mouth to argue but a ringing phone cuts him off. He fumbles with his phone for a moment, struggling to pull it out of a pocket with his opposite hand. He winces as he finally pulls it out.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“It’s a video call.” Midoriya doesn’t elaborate anymore. He shifts around before he answers, holding the phone up at an angle that keeps his arm and the ambulance mostly out of the camera. He pastes on a bright smile. “Hi, Eri.”

“Oh Izuku, are you okay? I heard you were involved in a fire. Are you injured? What happened?” Dr. Aizawa asks in a rush, her worried face fills the screen. Red eyes move quickly, obviously taking note of Midoriya’s disheveled apperance.

“I’m fine. Everyone’s fine. We’re not sure exactly how it started yet,” he lies. “But no one was hurt.”

“Where are you? I’ll go-”

“No,” Midoriya cuts her off. “I’m fine and I’ll come by the hospital later so you can check me over yourself if you’re really that worried, but I’m fine. And I want to make sure someone is keeping an eye out for Kou.”

“You think this has to do with her?” Dr. Aizawa asks, surprised.

“I’m not sure yet, I would just feel better if I knew there was extra security around her.”

Dr. Aizawa nods. “Okay, Izuku. I’ll make sure someone has an eye on her at all times. I’ll call you later to check up on you.” She says. “And I’ll know if you don’t let the paramedics check on you so don’t even try it this time.” The call ends before Midoriya can refute her last statement.

“I’m supposed to be taking the next shift on the hospital,” Shouto realizes. “I still had another two hours before my shift began when you arrived, but I should let someone know.”

Midoriya offers Shouto his phone. Before Shouto can step away, the paramedic returns with his arms crossed.

“Ready to cooperate?”

Midoriya looks miserably over his shoulder at Shouto but lets the paramedic force him into a seat.

Shouto calls Momo on her private number.

“This is Creati.” Momo answers stiffly after a single ring.

“Momo, it’s Shouto. My phone is…I don’t have my phone right now. There was just a fire-”

“At your apartment building. I know I just got the alert. Are you okay? You were still home, weren’t you?”

“Yes. I’m fine. No one was injured, but they’re still putting out the fire and I’m pretty sure my apartment is gone. It started there.”

Momo takes a long time to reply. “Your quirk?” She finally asks, but she sounds like she already knows the answer.

“No. I think…It seems crazy, but…” Shouto hesitates. He lives on the third floor, but crazier things have probably happened to him. “I think someone threw something through my window to start it.”

Momo curses under her breath. “I was afraid of that. You haven’t heard from anyone else, yet, have you? There was another attack, across town. Not a fire, but a building came down. A few civilians were hurt, and…”

Shouto tries not to lose his patience with Momo as she hesitates.

Finally she sighs. “The latest report from the police just came over the radio. Mr. Smith was one of the only heroes in the area. He was severely injured while helping trapped civilians. Paramedics rushed him to the hospital a few minutes ago. No one’s sure of his status yet.”

“Fuck.” Midoriya was right. “This is about Kou. The girl from before you have to-”

“I know your schedule, Shouto.” Momo interrupts. “As soon as I got the alert I let them know you might have been targeted. Someone has already been assigned to your guard shift and they’ve added extra security to the hospital.”

Shouto feels himself relax for the first time since the fire began. If there’s one thing he can count on, it’s Momo to be on top of things. “Thank you.”

Momo replies with a quiet hum of acknowledgement. “Is there anything else I can do for you right now? Do you need anyone else at the scene?”

“No, everything seems pretty well in hand for now. But if you could let my mother and sister know, that would help. They’ll see it on the news eventually, but even if my phone survived the fire it will probably be a while before I can get it to contact them myself.”

“Of course, I’ll make sure they know you’re alright. Can I contact you on this number again?”

Shouto glances back at Midoriya. He’s, miraculously, still sitting in the ambulance doors letting the paramedic wrap his hand, but he also managed to call over one of the firefighters to discuss something about the attack. “Yeah, you can use this number again.”

“Let me know when you learn something more.”

“I will.”

“I’m really glad you’re okay, Shouto.” Momo says just before she ends the call.

Me too, Shouto thinks, looking around at all the people gathered in front of the apartment. He and Midoriya had managed to get everyone out, but if Shouto had been alone he might not have been quick enough. Hell, if he hadn’t been answering the door at just the right time, he might not have been able to save anyone at all. He would probably be right beside Mr. Smith in the hospital. I just wish it could be said for everyone.

Shouto returns to the ambulance, passing the cell back to Midoriya. Midoriya takes one look at his face and knows.

“You heard about Mr. Smith too?”

Shouto nods. “Creati already sent word to the hospital for extra security and for someone to cover my shift watching Kou.”

Midoriya cracks a small smile. Other than the one he wore to briefly pacify Dr. Aizawa, it’s the first smile Shouto thinks he’s seen from him all day. And bizarrely, it puts him at ease for a moment, lifting some of the weight of the attack.

“Remind me to send her a huge thank you gift when we finally get out of here,” Midoriya says, and even though Momo is just doing her job in her own efficient, overachiever way, he knows Midoriya is serious.

Midoriya moves over, offering the extra space for Shouto to sit down. Another paramedic almost immediately descends on them, finally checking Shouto over for shock, smoke inhalation, over-extended quirk usage, and other injuries. Other than the handful of cat scratches that they clean and bandage, he comes out with a clean bill of health. Midoriya is comparing their injuries, complaining that his “bruised wrist” didn’t need more bandaging than Shouto’s cuts, but while his tone is light, his eyes keep focusing on something in the distance, his attention obviously not on their conversation. Shouto can practically hear the wheels turning in his head as he thinks.

The fire chief eventually joins them as the fire dies down and more of the firefighters exit the building for the last time. “Thank you again, Entropy, for your help evacuating tenants before we arrived. And…Midoriya, was it?”

“Dr. Midoriya,” Shouto corrects when Midoriya simply nods. Midoriya elbows him in the side, but Shouto ignores the jab.

“Dr. Midoriya, thank you for your help as well. That was very brave of you. A number of the tenants I’ve spoken with were extremely grateful for your assistance.”

Midoriya shrugs a shoulder, as if he had truly done nothing of note. “I’m just glad I was in the right place to help, at the right time.”

“Do we know anything else about the fire yet? Or the building?” Shouto asks.

“The fire is mostly out, we just have a few more people inside checking for any hidden fires or areas that weren’t extinguished completely the first time. As for the building…it will take a little while longer to properly assess all the damage but the third floor where it started, and the second and fourth floors, took the most damage. At the very least it will be a day or two before it’s safe for the tenants to move between the floors to get their things.” The chief explains.

Shouto expected about as much, honestly he was prepared to hear worse, but it doesn’t make it easier. “Thank you for letting us know.”

The chief nods. “Of course.”

Shouto turns back to Midoriya as the chief walks away. “Can I borrow your phone one more time?”

Midoriya politely, but unnecessarily, turns away as Shouto crafts a text to Momo.

the tenants will b displaced for at least a few days. can we do smthing abt accommodations for them?

It only takes Momo a few seconds to reply.

Of course. Send me the number of people and their contact information and I’ll take care of everything.

A second text comes in almost immediately.

Will you need something too? You could always stay with me and Kyouka. Or I’m sure your mother would be happy to have you for a few days.

Shouto stares at the message for a moment. “Shit.” He hadn’t been thinking about himself. Obviously he couldn’t stay in his apartment. But he wouldn’t want to be housed anywhere near his neighbors, in case whoever attacked tried again. But that would put his friends, or family, in the same line of risk.

“What’s wrong?” Midoriya finally turns back, looking over Shouto’s shoulder. “Was there another attack?”

Shouto shakes his head. “No, sorry to worry you. Momo just reminded me I’ll need a place to stay for a while. I don’t want to risk a hotel or some public housing, if they try to attack again…”

Midoriya doesn’t need him to finish his thought before he nods in understanding. “And you don’t want to stay with your friends or family for the same reason. There’s too much of a risk they will try to target you again.”

Shouto groans, running a hand over his face. Maybe Midoriya was onto something with all his concerns about ‘privacy and self-preservation.’

“Stay with me.”

Shouto’s head shoots up. He thinks he had to have misheard, but the serious expression on Midoriya’s face suggests otherwise.

“What?”

“You can stay with me. No, you should stay with me.”

Shouto feels like he was just transported to a parallel universe. He was actually fairly confident his role as the only one to suggest ridiculous things in this newly-started relationship was already established.

“I-No. I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking, I’m insisting.”

Shouto ignores him. “I can stay in the dorms at the agency.”

Midoriya rolls his eyes. “That’s an extremely short term solution, at best. And a huge risk. If these villains have kept close enough tabs on you to find your personal apartment and attack it, it would be child’s play to figure out you were staying in your office, with a publicly available address, and target it too.”

“You would still be at risk,” Shouto says, baffled as to how Midoriya somehow managed to miss that very important fact. “The same way Momo and Kyouka or my family would be, I can’t put you in that position.”

“Todoroki,” Midoriya says, deadly serious. “You are not a very social hero. It is common knowledge who you are close enough with to consider a friend. And your family has been in the spotlight for years. Staying with any of them is an obvious and dangerous choice. I’m a nobody. No one knows me, no one knows you know me. Also my house is…private, secluded. Even if someone does eventually figure out you’re there, it will take much longer than any of the other places. Enough time that we can come up with another plan.”

Midoriya reaches over and takes the cell out of his hands. “Now, unless you have a more convincing argument, I will text…” he looks at the phone for a long moment as he trails off. Shouto has no idea how he can casually insist on Shouto staying with him and in the same breath be visibly uncomfortable texting a different hero. “I will text…Creati and tell her you have a place to stay. You should go collect everyone else’s information for her.”

Shouto stares at Midoriya in disbelief while he pointedly ignores him and struggles to craft a text to Momo. He only finally moves when Midoriya all but shoves him off the ambulance step, claiming to be unable to type while he was being watched.

“I…can’t make sense of you,” Shouto finally admits. Midoriya has baffled him basically since the moment they met and he’s beginning to think he might never fully understand him.

Midoriya looks up from his phone with a curious expression, as if surprised by Shouto’s admission, before it transforms into a smile Shouto has never seen before, but that he wants to pull from him again and again.

“I like to think that’s just a part of my charm.”

#bnha #mha #tddk #tododeku #tododeku big bang 2021 #midoriya izuku #todorki shouto #fic #rita writes #7.16.21 #fic: reckless good

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colorseeingchick · 4 years ago

Note

Hello, colorseeingchick, I hope you’re having a nice day, and congrats on reaching 200 followers! I wanted to say I really like your Kuroko no Basket posts. I was recently looking for some small fanfics of Kuroko no Basket and I am glad I’ve found yours. I am also looking forward to reading your “Oh! Baby Series” of Tsukishima.

For the 200 Follower event, I would like to request a Kuroko no Basket matchup. I’d prefer to be matched with a male and my pronouns are she/her. I am currently 16 years old, I have brown skin and dark brown eyes. My hair is a dark brown color(almost black), very curly, and it reaches toward my mid-back. I’m 5’2” in height and I am an Aquarius(For Midorima).

I usually like to watch anime and read in my free time. I really love chocolate and exercising. I dislike people that lie a lot, peanuts, peanut butter, pecans, almonds, avocados, and onions. My hobbies are writing, drawing, reading, watching tv, singing, and playing the Piano. I think I’m particularly talented at writing since everyone seems to like my writing very much and right now I’m practicing my creative writing skills.

Personality: When I first meet someone, I tend to be quiet and just observe everyone. If anyone comes up to me, I usually just introduce myself, and depending on who the person is I may strike up a conversation. If I don’t then the person that’s talking to me will usually make conversation and I will quietly listen. I would usually just nod or say things like (yea, right, mhm) to show that I am listening. If I begin to feel comfortable I will give my opinion on the subject or try to strike up my own topic. But once I get really comfortable with that person I can become very goofy. I’ll start randomly dancing in the hallways and make weird sounds when I’m with that person. And depending on the person this can either increase or decrease in weirdness. I’m very good at listening to people especially when it comes to a person talking about their passions. My friends and family tend to laugh at a few things I say. They’re never really jokes there just situations I’ve been in and Apparently, they’re funny. I don’t tend to touch people, the most I really do regularly is either is put my hand/elbow on the person’s shoulder(Doesn’t matter if they’re tall or short) or begin poking them in odd places.

Negative Things: If someone is sad or insecure about something, I don’t know how to react, I usually just stare at them while they cry to themselves. I would not suggest that any of my friends come to me for emotional support. Unless they just want someone to listen to them. I don’t know how to take compliments. Once someone compliments me I usually just stare at the person or say thank you very slowly.

Additional: Since me and my friends were in chorus, we would usually just begin singing our chorus songs very loudly. It didn’t matter where we were, we would just begin singing. There was a time where my friend called me super sweet because I was checking up on them during the pandemic. My friends also said I give the best presents and truthfully I struggle trying to find presents. I want to give my friends something they can use or they really like. For example, I gave my friend a drawing notebook and some art supplies since they like to do art. I’ve been told that I have a mean resting face and that I act more mature for my age. I also asked my friends to describe me and they said, “Beautifully, Creative, Loving, Silly, Writer, Fashionable, Pretty, Innocent, and Nice Hairstyles.”

I swear I don’t where they’re getting these nice compliments. Hopefully, this is not too long.

Hello noodleman!!!! This was perfect do not worry. They compliment you because you're amazing haha. I always see you in my notifications and it makes me so happy :) I’m very excited to do both your matchups! For KNB, I’ve matched you with…

Akashi Seijuro!

We all know Akashi is a powerful man who’s been through a lot. As a girlfriend, you would be the one to both compliment his power and balance out his emotional state, even if you don’t intend to. And that would be the source of the beauty of your relationship with him.

You were a student at Rakuzan who would mind her own business. Akashi was in your class (ranking at the top) for the new school year, and you two sat next to each other. Akashi (this is the OG Akashi- the nice one) would introduce himself to you, and you would do the same. You observed Akashi quietly. The way he was so put together. His calm demeanor. His pretty eyes and how they were keenly watching everything. You didn’t realize he was observing you as well. While you both were just normal acquaintances at that point, things were about to change.

One day, you heard Akashi talking about basketball next to you. You could hear how passionate he was about it from the way he talked. The person he was talking to walked away, but you couldn’t help but ask him about basketball. Watching him talk that way was so enticing.

He looked at you for a second before smiling kindly and asking, “would you like to learn about basketball?” From there, you two would have a very engaged conversation with Akashi fanboying in a way that was as classy as fanboying could get, while you were listening attentively. You had to leave for the end of the day, but you left with a smiling Akashi out the door of the classroom.

The next major interaction between you two happened a few days later. You were doodling in your notebook when you heard him speak. “You’re very talented at drawing.”

You smiled awkwardly at the compliment, unsure of how to respond, so you just looked at him. He didn’t mind though. He just smiled back. “If you draw again, I’d like to see.” He then left soon after.

While you didn’t doodle again, you decided that maybe you were comfortable around Akashi, more than you thought you were.

A major shift in your dynamic happened one day when you were writing down intensely into a journal, stopping only when your hand hurt, taking time to think about your next words when you felt a light tap on your arm.

“Excuse me, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you writing?” He genuinely looked interested, which caught you by surprise.

And so you explained the short story you were writing. Akashi asked questions about the characters, the plot, where you got the idea from- all sorts of things. You both didn’t realize everyone else had already emptied out. “If you would like to share your story with me sometime, I would love to read it. And if you’d like to come by and watch my basketball team play, let me know.”

He was surprisingly easy to talk to. And that was the point where you both got closer. As you got closer, talking and learning more about each other, you both started to fall bit by bit. You both had a long list of hobbies and talents, much of which overlapped. Akashi was mesmerized by your singing, though he knew you wouldn’t like to hear the compliment if he gave it to you. Instead, he just asked you to always sing and gave you his full attention when you did. It went without say he loved your writing. He was a talented musician himself, and you found his game pretty entertaining- the way he dominated on the court.

He asked you out after Rakuzan had taken a big victory before the winter cup. You’d come to watch the game.

“Will you celebrate with me?” He asked you.

“With your team?”

“No, actually.” He’d smile at you and step closer, but had not invaded your personal space. “I’d like to actually get some time with you, on a date.”

He was pleased you said yes. The date went well. He’d learned you were mature, which is what he was looking for in a partner. He already knew you were talented and a good listener. It wasn’t long before he asked you to be his girlfriend officially.

Your dynamic with Akashi was well tailored. Being the captain of Rakuzan, he had an image to maintain- one of power. And having a girlfriend who he knew to be intimidating as well (your resting face was intense) was a fitting situation. He knew you observed and listened well, which is why he could trust that you would be thoughtful- something that was also very important to him. You also cared for efficiency and purpose. But what he didn’t realize he needed so badly was your goofiness. After you two had gotten as close as you were, he learned how funny your stories were and saw you in your most comfortable states. He loved your fun goofy side. It helped him live a little, too. He enjoyed elbowing you back when you did it to him (it was the most innocent playful thing he’d done). It didn’t bother Akashi all that much that you didn’t know how to deal with other people being emotional. He wasn’t one to show negative emotions all that much and didn’t project that expectation onto you, which made it a bit easier. He knew that if he needed to talk it out and have someone listen, he could always go to you.

Overall you and Akashi managed to balance out on a lot of your ideologies, world views, hobbies, and life practices. While some were the same, others were different- but in a complimentary way. It’s quite a beautiful dynamic, really.

~~~

Ahhh I really hope you like it! Lemme know what you think hehe. I'm excited to do your MHA one too!

#knb #knb matchup #csc hits 200 #colorseeingchick milestone

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anxious-logic · 5 years ago

Text

A Burden Shared

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 6: When your soulmate is injured you will experience pain in that area.

Ship: Analogicality (Patton x Virgil x Logan)

Warnings: Mentions of unsafe binding, self-harm, periods

Word Count: 2,351 (it’s a long one!)

Patton – Age 3

“Ow!”

Patton gasped as he pulled his hand towards his chest. It felt like he’d gotten a boo-boo on his finger from the coloring book, but he couldn’t see anything.

“Mommy?” he called, looking up to find his mom. “Mommy!”

His mom poked his head out from her office.

“What is it, sweetie?”

Patton held out his finger, sniffling. “My finger has a boo-boo but I can’t find it.”

His mom’s face made a weird look. She didn’t say anything for a minute.

She walked over to where Patton was and picked him up, propping him up on her hip.

“Okay, Patton. Do you know anything about soulmates?”

***

Lisa – Age 6

Lisa was frustrated.

Now, this wasn’t exactly rare for her. She experienced frustration on a quite regular basis; usually caused by something to do with her classmates or teachers. But this particular brand of frustration was quite new to her.

“Lisa, just put on the dress!” Her father said, exasperated at having to repeat himself yet again.

“No!” she insisted. “I don’t want to wear a dress, I want to wear pants.”

“I told you, you have to wear a dress to visit your grandmother. We’ve been over this. Put on the dress.”

“No.”

Lisa sat down where she was, refusing to move. If her father wanted her to wear a dress, he would have to manhandle her into it.

Then she had an idea.

“It’s because my soulmate,” she said quietly.

Her father froze.

“What about him?”

“They hurt their shoulder yesterday. It still hurts today. The dress wouldn’t feel good on it.”

Lisa only felt a little guilty manipulating her father; he had no way to prove whether her soulmate had hurt their shoulder or not, he just had to trust her on it. But she felt so bad about wearing a dress that she would go as far as lying so as to avoid wearing it.

“I- fine. But you have to wear a dress next time, okay?”

Lisa didn’t respond.

***

Virgil – Age 9

Virgil had been playing on the playground when he screamed in pain, clutching his left leg.

“Ow ow ow ow ow-“ he cried, tears running down his face. The playground monitor came running, pushing the children who had mobbed around Virgil out of the way.

“What happened?” she asked, seeing that there wasn’t any visible injury.

“I- My soulmate did something, it hurts, it hurts so bad,” Virgil said, barely able to get the words out over the pain.

The monitor sighed. “Probably a broken leg,” she said. “C’mon, let’s get you to the office. They can figure out what you need from there.” She scooped him up into his arms, shooing the other children back to their play.

***

Patton – Age 12

When Patton had fallen out of a tree and broken and dislocated various parts of his leg at age nine, he’d had to accept with the idea that he wasn’t the only one having to deal with so much pain. It had hurt so much, and even once he got the painkillers it still hurt a little – he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without doctors there at every moment to help him manage it. Even now, he still got leftover pain occasionally, slipping up on him like the elementary school bullies: familiar but unwelcome.

Now, he was maybe beginning to understand what it might have been like.

His ribs hurt, all the time. Regardless of what he did, it hurt to breathe too hard or too fast. When he pressed on them, it felt like he was being stabbed with a blunt object. He was also getting really bad cramps in his stomach every month.

It really wasn’t fun.

His mom said he probably had a girl for a soulmate, which would explain the cramps. If that was the case, Patton thought it was probably a platonic bond; he couldn’t really see himself kissing a girl.

He winced as his stomach hurt more, and wondered what was happening to his soulmate, that he hurt so much through their bond.

He hoped they were okay.

***

Logan – Age 15

Logan hissed as he felt a stinging feeling on his wrists.

Dammit, he thought as he looked down. There wasn’t any reason for the pain on his wrists; it was one of his soulmates.

When he was twelve, and was just beginning to grow breasts, he had begun to bind them with bandages. He knew how dangerous that was – he’d researched what was going on in his mind, and how to make it feel better, before resorting to them – but he just hadn’t been able to handle it. He’d had to do something. Then he started getting his period, getting cramps along with the dysphoric blood. It was horrendous. He’d hoped that he was the only one going through mental pain affecting their everyday life.

But now his soulmate was cutting. Evidently, they were going through something incredibly unpleasant too.

He genuinely hoped that their bond was only two-way – he couldn’t imagine having his binding and his soulmates’ cutting to deal with, while probably having minimal personal problems with pain. There was the broken leg a few years ago, but that didn’t really count.

He determinedly flipped his math textbook open, ready to work his way through his homework and ignore his soulmate’s pain, as well as his own cramps.

There was nothing he could do about it right now, anyway.

***

Virgil – Age 18

Virgil glanced down at the old scars on his wrist, rubbing them slightly. When he was fifteen, it had been a dark time for him – the only way he had known that anyone could feel positive things for him was through the soulmate bond, and even that was only shown through pain. He’d gotten a lot better since then – amazing what therapy and meds could do – but he still couldn’t help but be reminded of the feeling, sometimes.

He thought of his ribs, how they had hurt every day for a solid eighteen months. He thought of his leg, which still lanced with pain every so often. He thought of his wrists, how he’d hurt himself purposely for months before stopping.

He knew he’d be okay.

He stepped into his dorm room on the college campus, ready to start the next part of his life.

***

Patton – Age 21

“Virge, love, I’m going out for coffee with a friend, okay? Do you want anything?”

He and Virgil had met each other during their first day of freshman orientation. Patton had stood up wrong on his leg and collapsed, bruising his arms on the way down. When he looked up, it was to see another boy leaning on a desk to favor his leg and holding his arm close to his chest. They’d figured out pretty quickly that they were soulmates.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Virgil called out from where he was working on an art assignment. “Have fun,” he tacked on as he frowned at his screen.

They had gone for a walk that evening, after their orientation events were done for the day. They’d talked about the major pains they’d been through – Patton’s leg, Virgil’s wrist, and someone else’s chest and stomach.

Apparently, despite Virgil’s wishes to the contrary, they had another soulmate.

“Okay. Be back soon!”

Patton hummed lightly to himself as he made his way to the coffeeshop on campus. He was planning on meeting Logan there so that they could work on their philosophy project together.

As he opened the door to the shop, he scanned the tables to see if the other boy was around yet. It didn’t look like he was, so Patton stepped up to the counter and ordered for himself – hot chocolate and a cookie.

He sat down at an open table, getting out his computer and a notebook. He looked up when Logan sat down across from him, an iced coffee in hand.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hi!” Patton said back cheerfully. Logan looked tired today – Patton hoped he’d slept okay the night before-

“Ouch,” Patton said suddenly, his thoughts distracted, as a lance of pain shot through the fingers of his left hand. “Virgil, what did you do,” he muttered, shaking his hand out. He looked up, to see Logan staring at him, his face white as a sheet. He was cradling his left hand to his chest.

“Sorry about that, my soulmate must’ve smooshed his fingers in a cupboard or something,” Patton said cheerfully. Logan shook his head slowly.

“I… that certainly is an interesting coincidence, is it not?” he said. “Because I believe mine just did the same thing as well.”

Patton gasped, his thoughts scattering every which way. “I can’t believe it! You’re our other soulmate!” he squealed, reaching across the table to grab Logan’s uninjured hand. “You’ll have to meet Virgil, he’ll love you, I know it. You two can get into so many interesting discussions-!”

Logan smiled slightly. “Uh- sure,” he said. “Show me?”

***

Virgil – Age 21

Virgil sucked in a breath at the sudden pain that came with slamming his fingers into the doorframe.

“Fuck,” he hissed, shaking his fingers out. He’d have to apologize to Patton for that one; it’d hurt to write for the next few hours, and he knew Patton was supposed to be out working on an assignment for quite a while.

His phone buzzed, a notification coming through.

Stay at home, a text from Patton read. Another one lit his phone up just seconds later. Found other soulmate. Bringing him over to meet you.

Virgil’s jaw dropped. He’d known that they had another soulmate – where else could the pain in his chest and stomach come from – but it hadn’t really, truly registered before now that the universe thought that there were two people that he could spend the rest of his life with.

He quickly moved to start cleaning the tiny living room, clearing off the papers and books from the couch and finding places to put the junk that had accumulated on the coffee table. He was interrupted by the sound of Patton’s laughing while he had a stack of textbooks in his arms, ready to bring them to the bedroom.

“Virgil’s here somewhere,” Patton said. “Virge? I’m home!”

Virgil came out of the bedroom, nervously wiping his hands on his pants. “Uh, hi,” he mumbled. “I’m Virgil-“

He looked up, and his jaw dropped. “Logan!” He felt his cheeks go red.

“Virgil?” the other boy asked, surprised. Patton looked between the two.

“Oh, you know each other already? Great!”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “We were in astronomy together last semester.”

Patton eyes went wide. “Oh, I see.”

Logan looked between the two of them. “I don’t know if I like the sound of that?” he said hesitantly. Virgil’s cheeks only got warmer.

“Uh- I just- Patton and I had quite a few conversations about opening our relationship so that I could maybe date you. Um. That didn’t happen because I kept chickening out, but- yeah.”

Logan smiled. “Then it works out for the better that we were told we belong together, yes?”

Virgil nodded frantically. “Uh. Yeah. I guess. Yep.”

Logan gently put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, slipping his other hand into Patton’s palm.

“Can we sit down to talk?”

***

Logan – Age 21

Patton led the three of them to the living room, sitting himself down on the loveseat and tucking his legs up underneath him. Virgil chose to sprawl on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, leaving Logan free to choose between the couch or the single armchair. Patton patted next to him, so Logan hesitantly sat down on the other cushion, crossing his legs uncomfortably.

“So, just to clear the air,” Virgil started. “I cut when I was fifteen, six years ago – that’s what the wrist pain was, for months there. Patton fucked up his leg at age nine – twelve years ago – and it never healed right. We have a mystery soulmate who had really bad chest pains for about eighteen months, starting almost ten years ago now – it hurt to breathe too quickly or hard. There’s really bad lower abdomen cramps about once a month, for the last ten-ish years too. I can’t think of anything else major. Does that line up with your soulpains too?”

Logan took a deep breath. “I… yes. The cramps and chest pain… that was – is – me. I, um. You were blunter than I expected. But, uh – I’m trans. So… yeah. I did… unsafe binding for a long time. That’s- that’s what the chest pain was about. And… periods suck. That’s what that’s about.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Fuck, that must be hard. I- sorry for being so blunt. That… probably wasn’t how you wanted to come out.”

Logan laughed slightly. “No, I- you’re fine.”

Patton suddenly nodded hard. “So we’re all soulmates, we think?”

Virgil and Logan looked at each other uncertainly and nodded.

“Great,” Patton said. Then he paused. “If we… feel anything… can we text each other? I kind of have a weird fear that we’ll all be super happy and everything, and we have another person who hasn’t had anything super big? And that we’ll miss them? And they have to deal with all of this pain and never meet us and get to know why and feel the good parts of a soulbond?”

“That makes sense,” Logan said. He pulled out his phone to make a group chat. He paused, and looked up over the top of the phone, blushing.

“I- I really enjoy spending time with both of you,” he said. “I can’t wait to get to know you better.”

Patton grinned at him. “Maybe it’ll make the pain better too, all the time. Sharing is caring, right?”

Virgil smiled slightly. “Hopefully, it’ll help with all sorts of things. Meeting Patton made me feel a lot better mentally. I- Maybe we can do the same for you?”

Logan reached over to hold both of their hands. “I look forward to it.”

#ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #analogicality #ts fanfic #soulmate september #tsshipmonth2020 #i can write sometimes

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chaoticowlpost · 5 years ago

Text

To New Friendships

Before the fic starts, I just want to tag @nourix-png because they’re so supportive and sweet and I love seeing their name in my notifications so here’s the update you asked for <3 (also check their account out because they have amazing art <3)

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

“Hello, Draco,” Harry said slowly, not yet sure of what to make of the other child. “I’m Harry.”

Draco took a pause before straightening himself in his seat and said, “Hello, I’m Draco.”

Harry couldn’t help it. He let out a laugh at Draco’s mistake and felt himself warm a bit towards the other boy when he noted his embarrassment through the light flush that covered his cheeks.

Harry’s mom ruffled the other boy’s hair before sending them off to Harry’s room with Harry leading the way while Draco trailed behind him. Once they arrived, Harry closed his door and they both took a seat on the beanbag chairs that were scattered on his floor.

While Harry practically flopped himself onto the red one, Draco sat carefully on the adjacent blue seat, wobbling a bit as he sank down into the material.

“So, you’re Draco.” Be cool, Harry, You’re the older one here so you have to look impressive.

“I am,” Draco nodded before letting his eyes wander around the room. “You don’t have to pretend, you know.”

“What?” Harry asked, feeling confused.

“You don’t like me.” It was a simple statement, one that was said with only the barest hint of a frown. “You could just ignore me and do whatever you want, if you like.”

Guilt washed over Harry, and he suddenly felt bad about his initial greeting with Draco from earlier. Especially after his mom warned him about the problem in their family.

“No,” Harry shook his head, because it was true. “I don’t dislike you. I just wanted to see my friend.”

“Right,” Draco nodded. “I’m sorry you can’t see him because of me.”

“No!” Harry exclaimed, realizing that Draco misinterpreted what he meant. “I just... didn’t know we had guests over.” There, Harry thought. Nice save.

“I’m sorry for-”

“Stop apologizing,” Harry panicked, unsure of what else he could say to make the blond forget how he acted just minutes ago. “Seriously, it’s fine.”

“Right,” Draco nodded, still looking unsure. After that, an uneasy silence settled between the two, and Harry was already regretting giving in to his mother so easily.

“Do you know the hand clap game?” Harry asked, although he was pretty sure that the other kid didn’t. His Uncle Moony taught him.

“No?” Draco responded, his eyebrows furrowing. “What’s that?”

“Here, I’ll teach you,” Harry said, excited at the prospect of getting to play it with someone else other than Moony, who kept winning against him. He began teaching Draco every step of the actions.

“-and then after each round, you have to add another clap at the end,” Harry instructed, repeating the game slowly as he taught Draco.

“And if one of us loses?” Draco asked.

“I dunno,” Harry shrugged. “My Uncle Moony normally chases me and tugs my ear.”

“Let’s do that, then,” Draco said excitedly. Harry quickly agreed and they began playing. Naturally, Harry was majority of the time in the beginning as Draco was still prone to confusing the steps but, apparently, the kid was also a fast runner.

“I got you!” Harry laughed, wrapping his arms around the other boy so he couldn’t escape. Draco slumped and gave in as Harry tugged on his ear, pink from all the other times he lost.

“One last,” Draco insisted for possibly the tenth time. Harry didn’t mind; this was fun. Except Harry, still high on all his winnings, made a mistake while counting and clapped one too many times.

“Ha!” Draco cheered triumphantly, grinning wide. “I win.”

“That’s not fair!” Harry protested, pouting. “I’m tired from all the running.”

“Or maybe you suck at counting,” Draco teased. Harry narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, flicking the other boy’s head before bolting away.

“Hey!” Draco laughed, getting up to run after him. They went on like that for a while since they were both beginning to get tired, meaning they paused their game every few seconds to take a breather, because that’s how these games work.

“Be careful,” Harry heard his mum say as she walked in the room. Both he and Draco stopped running to greet her. Once she left, Harry shot back up and began bouncing on his bed.

“C’mon, you haven’t caught me yet,” he taunted the younger boy.

“But your mother told us to be careful,” Draco said warily.

“We are being careful,” Harry huffed, but Draco still looked hesitant. He didn’t want his new friend to be uncomfortable, so he decided it would be better to give in. “Or we could just watch the telly.”

“The... what?” Draco asked, tilting his head a bit to the side.

“The telly,” Harry repeated, gesturing to the black screen that was placed above a high drawer. He knew, of course, that not a lot of wizards had them because it was a Muggle invention, and it could be hard to get them to work in magical houses.

“I was wondering what that was,” Harry heard the other kid mumble, more to himself than to Harry, which made him grin.

“There are loads of channels,” Harry bragged, grabbing the remote. “Follow me.”

He dove under his blanket, holding it up so that Draco could follow him as they crawled through the dark space until their heads were peeking through the bottom end of the cloth, facing the TV.

Harry fiddled with the remote and turned it on before facing Draco, excited to see the awe on his face when the light of the TV filled the room.

“Are they trapped?” Draco asked worriedly, looking at the screen with wide eyes.

“I don’t think so,” Harry furrowed his eyebrows. “My parents said that they’re just acting, and everything is recorded. Like a photograph.”

“Oh,” Draco murmured, still staring at the bright screen.

“Look, this is my favorite channel,” Harry said, flicking to the one that showed a cat and mouse chasing each other.

“Kneazles don’t look like that,” Draco commented.

“It’s a cartoon,” Harry explained. “They’re animalat- animini?... drawn animals.”

“Oh,” Draco nodded, not paying any attention to Harry’s little slip up.

He and Draco sat there and flicked through the various channels until the sky was dark outside, interrupted by a knock on the door while they discussed whether the animated mermaid in the movie was accurate or not.

“It’s time for dinner,” Harry’s mum called through the door before they heard the sounds of her footsteps fading. They both crawled out from under the sheets and went to follow the Potter matriarch.

The dinner was a chatter-filled one. Both Lily and Harry were excited to ask about Draco while the kid in question was happy to learn about Harry’s life as well.

Once dinner was finished, Lily began taking out the dishes while James finally caved and started asking Draco a bit about himself and his family until the little blond boy stood abruptly, gathering his plate before marching in the kitchen.

“Here you go, Mrs. Potter,” Draco said, looking up at her as he extended his arms, trying to reach high enough to place it in the sink.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she cooed, wiping her hand to run it through the boy’s head. “If only my husband and son could learn a thing from you.”

Harry, feeling indigent, gaped at the two from his seat while Lily threw a pointed look in his general direction.

“Go help your mother, Harry,” James shrugged, picking up the paper and straightening it out for him to read.

“But Mr. Potter,” Draco said, standing in the entryway that connected the kitchen to the dinning area. “You’re her husband. Shouldn’t you be helping her.”

This time, it was James’ turn to gape while Lily cackled loudly from the kitchen. “He has a point, dear,” she singsonged.

“I-” James sputtered, folding the newspaper and tossing it on the table. “Of course I can help her.”

He stood up and gathered his plate while Harry followed suit, marching behind his father as they went into the kitchen to place their utensils and plates into the sink.

“I told you I like him,” Lily smirked at James, who simply rolled his eyes.

“Hey mum,” Harry asked once she and James were finished talking, because it was rude to interrupt adults. “Since we’re done, can Draco and I grab one of the board games and go up?

“Sure, Harry,” she smiled, dismissing the two after Draco’s light protest.

Unfortunately, they weren’t able to make it much further than setting up the game and establishing the rules when Lily knocked on their door once more, telling them that Narcissa was back and it was time for Draco to go home.

“Does he have to?” Harry frowned, slightly bitter at the fact that they didn’t get to play the game.

“I’m sure Draco could come over again soon,” she said, trying to placate her son. “But I think Mrs. Malfoy is tired, so we should let them go now.”

“If she’s tired then she should rest, and Draco could stay here with us,” Harry argued.

At this, Lily let out a small huff of amusement. “Maybe plan a sleepover for another night.”

“Fine,” Harry pouted. The trio went back to the living room where Mrs. Malfoy was waiting, making polite conversation with James while Draco put on his shoes.

When both families stood on opposite ends of the doorway, Harry frowned as Draco gave him a small smile.

“We should play again sometime,” Harry stated. Draco looked up at his mother for permission, who nodded and turned back to talk to his mum.

“Bye Harry,” Draco whispered before stepping away when his mother did.

“Hey,” Harry said, taking a step forward as well before pulling the younger boy into a hug. Then, he whispered, “You have to come back.”

“Okay,” Draco nodded seriously as they pulled away.

“Promise?” Harry asked.

“I promise.”

-————————————————-

Masterlist

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Thank you for reading <3

#hp #harry potter #draco malfoy #lily potter #james potter #narcissa malfoy #drarry #drarry fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #no voldemort au

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nataliedanovelist · 5 years ago

Text

GF - Shards of Glass 1/2

After over thirty years, Ma is getting paid a visit, all thanks to the persuasion of a sweater-making, pig-loving teenager. A loud HAPPY BIRTHDAY for Stanley and Stanford Pines, born June 15th 19?? (who cares?) Part 2 will be posted on June 30th to conclude the celebration of their existence. So stay tuned!

@thestanbros

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel had never been on a plane before.

Well, okay, that wasn't entirely true; she had been on an airplane before, but she was so little back then and she didn't remember it now, so to her brain this was her first time on a plane, and she didn't like it much. She had to chew on gum the whole time to keep from getting a headache and the WiFi was too slow to function, so she daydreamed about the summer ahead as she watched the clouds roll by and imagined shapes.

Once, when she and Dipper were really little, maybe four or five, they had flown down to Ma Pines' house all the way in New Jersey for a holiday. Probably Thanksgiving since Mabel only had three memories of that trip. She remembered yummy sweet potatoes with marshmallows that she ate as much as she was allowed, she remembered the distinct smell of the flat, and she remembered…

"Attention passengers, we will be arriving in Glass Shard, New Jersey in five minutes. Please remain seated until instructed to exit the plane, and as always thanks for flying with us at…"

"Dipper, we're here!" Mabel cheered and checked her phone, her other hand busy petting a disturbed Waddles on her lap. By the time a message would load to her great uncles they would already be in front of them, so there was no point in sending a text to alert them of the arrival. "This is so exciting! A whole month sailing with my three favorite people in the world!"

"I'm so excited to see all the anomalies the guys were talking about." Dipper said, looking up from his special journal to smile at his twin. "Maybe we'll see a real adlet!"

"But first I wanna see where Grunkle Stan and Ford grew up!" Mabel piped in. "Maybe we'll see the cave where they found the Stan O' War!"

"Maybe," Dipper said, unsure how true that word was. "But don't you think they might not want to stay very long? I wouldn't be surprised if they want to set sail as soon as we get there."

"But what about their mom?" Mabel asked. "Don't they want to see her?"

Dipper looked down at the silver pinetree on his blue book. Their great-grandmother was a tough old bird (as Grandpa Shermie called her) and was still going in her early nineties. Grant it, she didn't do much besides give an occasional palm reading to keep herself busy, but she was definitely still around. Grandpa Shermie was good about staying in touch with her from what Dad said, and Dad called her every Sunday, but she was still relatively lonely due to the fact that her husband was gone (good riddance) and two of her sons hadn't spoken to her in thirty years. ("Stanford" had been very quiet during Stanley's funeral, had refused to attend Filbrick's, and when Grunkle Stan saw Dipper and Mabel being born he left just before Ma arrived at the hospital.) While a visit was way overdue, it might be too little too late.

"I'm sure they want to see her," Dipper finally said as he looked back up at Mabel. "But it might be too hard, now. And not just for them, you know? How would she take it? Would she even believe them?"

Mabel's attitude dropped a little bit more. She shrugged and scratched the spot Waddles can never reach. "I dunno… Dad took the news okay."

Dipper smiled. When their parents' had gotten Mabel's letter their mother didn't believe them, but their father took them seriously and only shrugged and said, "Yup, that sounds like my uncles, alright."

"I think it's a good idea to see Ma, but let's not pressure them, okay?" Dipper settled on.

"Don't worry, Bro-Bro." Mabel said confidently. "It'll all work out. Oo! Look, look, look! We're here! Look, Dipper, look!"

"Okay okay, I'm looking." Dipper chuckled as they both watched the ground come closer and closer, the plane landing safely on the runway and gliding peacefully.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford had always been more collected and self-contained of the dynamic duo; this became apparent as he was able to stand perfectly calm in the airport with his hands on the pockets of his blue jacket while Stan tapped his foot impatiently and checked his phone every minute, even though he never received a notification or heard a ringtone. Ford smiled and came up with a joke to poke the bear with. "Well well, has Stanley Pines truly gone soft for two teenagers?"

"Shaddup." Stan growled but smiled back nonetheless.

"You know, a watched pot never boils. Just relax."

"I ain't worried or nothing, Poindexter," Stan defended. "Sorry that an uncle's excited to see his kids!"

"I'm happily anticipating their arrival, as well," Ford chuckled. "I'll admit it, Mabel's idea of sailing with us is a fantastic one. Why in the Multiverse she wanted to go so badly she felt compelled to beg for a month straight…"

"Believe it or not, the kids like us." Stan lightly punched his shoulder. "I'm sure all they want is to be stuck on a boat with two cool old men for a month with nothing but fish and an occasional monster for company."

"And a pig."

Stan snorted. "I try to forget that naked jerk."

"And we all know how great of a job you…" Ford cut himself off, turning red and fearing he had crossed a line, but Stan laughed loudly and slapped his knee.

"Okay okay, you got me there…"

"Stanley,"

"What?"

Just as Stan turned around, his eyes landed on the two most precious things in the world: a boy in a ushanka and navy blue vest with a green t-shirt and blue jeans, a journal in his hands and a large backpack on his shoulders, and a girl with shoulder-length brown hair kept back with a red headband, wearing a purple sweater with a big pink heart that held a golden fish and a golden six-fingered hand, a pig in her arms and a huge suitcase just busting at the seam with sweaters and arts n' crafts supplies.

Mabel grinned with teeth free of braces and tears in her eyes and let Waddles down so they could all run freely. Stan broke into a run for his pumpkin and ignored the squealing pig that arrived at him first by a split second, little hooves on his jeans and button eyes requesting cuddles. Stan scooped Mabel up into his arms and held her tight, her arms wrapped around his neck and her face in his shoulder. Dipper was at his legs in an instant and hugged him, not bothering to pretend it's a chokehold or a means to make the old guy trip and fall. Stan freed an arm to keep him close, and not even a second after Dipper joined the hug Ford was by his brother's side and Dipper adjusted to hug him, too.

Stan heard a small sniff and rubbed Mabel's back. "Sweetie, you're not crying, are you?"

Mabel lifted her head up from his shoulder to look at him, wiping away the tears on her cheeks and eyes. "N-No…" Her smile unwavering through her white lie.

Stan chuckled warmly and put her down next to her twin. "Alright, let us get a good look at you two."

"You've seen us at least once a week." Dipper reminded him. They video-chatted constantly and there wasn't a day they didn't exchange an email or a text message.

"This is different, now shaddap and let me work through my cataracts." Stan and Ford looked at the kids hungrily, who was looking back at them just the same, as if they couldn't absorb each other's appearances enough. Which was probably true. "You've both gotten taller."

"I'm taller than Mabel now!"

"By one milometer!"

"Now don't get short with your brother." Ford said with a smile, making every laugh, including Mabel, who shrugged with a "whatcha gonna do" atmosphere to it.

"And your teeth look amazing, pumpkin!" Stan commented; back in March she had gotten the braces removed and admitted to being unsure if her teeth looked good enough, but they dazzled beautifully when she grinned and apart from a painful reminder that she was growing up, Stan was pleased with the new change.

"And the pictures and video don't do your hair justice. You look beautiful." Ford got on one knee and ruffled her hair, making her giggle and playfully swat his hand away. "I must ask, was there a reason for the new hairstyle, or did you simply fancy trying something new?"

"Let's just say an arts n' crafts accident didn't leave me much choice." Mabel said with a wink.

"She set her hair on fire and we had to cut off the dead ends." Dipper spoiled.

"Dipper! I gotta keep some secrets! It makes me look cool and mysterious!"

"No more secret, sweetie." Stan laughed alongside her.

"And Dipper, my boy, you've certainly grown up a lot since we've last seen you." Ford noted as he stood back up.

"Yeah, who gave you permission to look more manly and junk?"

Dipper rolled his eyes at Grunkle Stan's comment, but Mabel chimed in first. "He's already grown five chest hairs! I bet he named them, too."

"I did not!"

"He won't let me see, though…"

"Last time you saw my chest hair you put it in your scrapbook!"

"That's cuz it was your first, Dip-Dip. The rest aren't as special."

The uncles laughed at the kids' playful bickering and Stan took Mabel's suitcase and they ventured out of the airport with Waddles in Mabel's arms.

With the airport being on the furthest side of town from the beach, Stan flagged down a cab and they piled in for the docks. The entire car-ride they filled each other in on their lives, the kids talking about school and the adults giving brief summaries of some of their adventures. Waddles moved from Mabel's lap to Stan's, and without a single comment and only funny looks from the others, Stan scratched the pig as he talked and listened.

At long last the cab pulled up to the docks and the kids ran out, tired of sitting after a six-hour flight and a twenty-minute car ride, while Ford paid for the ride. The younger set of twins raced to the boat they had only seen pictures of and marveled at the vessel before them. Already showing signs of harsh weather and tons of love, the Stan O' War II stood strong on the gentle sea salt waves, the white letter shining in the early-afternoon sun. With a cozy cabin with a downstairs bedroom and an upstairs everything room, a hardtop for astronomy and sunbathing, and a big enough cockpit for the small family, the Stan O' War II had been an excellent home for the old pair of twins and the younger pair of twins were excited to live here for the first half of summer.

"There she is, kids!" Stan said proudly, a hand on Dipper's shoulder. "This ole girl survived Fiji Monkeys, sirens, and five different krakens. It's completely and totally safe." And then a piece of the antenna for the TV fell off.

"Grunkle Stan, if we can survive in the Mystery Shack for an entire summer, I think we'll be fine here." Dipper said while Mabel ran up to the boat and climbed up with Ford behind her.

"What do you think, my dear?"

"It's BEAUTIFUL!" Mabel squealed and hoisted Waddles up into the boat with them, her eyes sparkling with stars as she took in every detail. "I can't wait to get splinters and name all the moldy spots!"

"Unfortunately, there aren't any moldy spots yet." Ford chuckled. "But there are some craters in the wood that haven't been named."

"Leave that to Mabel!"

When Stan and Dipper joined them, the old men took the kids downstairs to the bedroom to unload their things and get situated. What once used to only hold a set of bunk beds and a dresser now also hosted a set of hammocks hooked to the wall and the dresser, one on top of the other for the kids. Mabel squealed with delight and snuggled into the lower one (still a little afraid of heights) and Dipper said, "Whoa, cool! Thanks, guys."

"Well, can't have you two gremlins sleeping out on deck, can we?" Stan asked. He clapped his hands together and declared, "Alright! You two get settled while Ford and I get us out at sea…"

Mabel sat up on her knees, her hands on the edge of the hammock. "Wait, Grunkle Stan! Aren't you gonna give us the grand tour?"

Stan shrugged. "It's a small boat. Not much to tour, kid."

"I mean Glass Shard Beach." Mabel pressed. "You could show us that old candy store and your swing-set and the boardwalk you used to play in!"

Ford looked over at his brother; while he could stomach saying here a little longer, he wasn't sure how comfortable Stan was taking a trip down memory lane, but then again Stan was always preaching about how "the past's in the past" and "old memories shouldn't stop us from making newer, better ones," but that didn't excuse the fact that Stan had been quick to suggest leaving the docks as soon as they picked up the kids and get the supplies they needed when they first arrived.

But Stan smiled, crossed his arms over his chest, and smirked, "I don't see why not? You cool with it, Sixer?"

Ford smiled at his family. "I think it's a wonderful idea. The boardwalk should be open, maybe the Freak Show is still there."

"Freak Show?! Let's go!" Mabel hopped out of her hammock and the four left the boat for town.

Walking alongside the beach and letting Mabel ride on Stan's shoulders, the kids got a good glimpse of the town. They eventually decide to walk into it on the way to the boardwalk, the old men wondering how much Glass Shard had changed.

It was an odd combination of "nothing changes" and "everything changes". The buildings were still the same, not much torn down or rebuilt, but the interiors were mostly updated or something completely different. They passed the Juke Joint and Stan found he couldn't ignore the growl in his stomach. Nothing but the staff had changed (and the prices had gone up due to inflation), the wall art and food and music still the same, but they had a fun time in the diner as the adults told the kids why What's New Kittycat wasn't an option in the jukebox.

After the late lunch, they were just about to enter the boardwalk when they spotted the candy store that mostly sold saltwater taffy, but they also sold jelly jeans, toffee peanuts, peanut brittle, and any kind of candy anyone could want. Though the store had been given a clean update since Ford and Stan were children, the candy was better than they remembered and they all filled their pockets with bags of sweets. Then they strolled along the Boardwalk and while they didn't play many games, the Stan-twins had a lot of fun telling stories that came along with each and every booth.

At the end, in a giant tent with a devil at the front, stood the Freak Show. Of course, none of the adults from the old men's childhood were still around, except for one muscular guy with tons of tattoos who growled at Mabel like an animal but then broke into a smile as she complimented his look and asked where she could get a cool tattoo of a headless seagull.

"Well, tear off my limbs and call me the next human pickle!" The very old tattoo guy said, his hair white and his skin in wrinkles, but his muscles still somehow very toned and his tattoos still clear as ever. "Good ole Six Fingers! How've you two been? These squirts normies?"

Dipper pulled off his hat and pushed back his bangs. "Who you calling normie?"

The whole tent gasped and a woman with hair growing all over her face said tearfully, "One of us."

"Yup, these little weirdos are Dipper and Mabel, our brother's grandkids." Stan introduced proudly.

"Aw, well ain't that swell!" A puppet said for it's puppeteer.

"So wait, you knew our great-uncles when they were kids?" Dipper asked the oldest weirdo.

"Tell us some embarrassing stories about them!" Mabel bugged, her hands on the guy's knee.

The old tattooed guy laughed. "Embarrassing?! Ha! Your uncles were cool little weirdos who made this dock more bearable! Nearly caught a devil at ten-years-old to boot!..."

"You did WHAT?!" The kids gasped at their beaming uncles.

"... Stan over there knew more swears than anyone else his age and Ford knew more secrets than anyone ever. Those two were hands-down the best pair of twins this side of the Mississippi!"

Ford, who was rosy in his cheeks, had his hands in his pockets and commented, "The Sibling Brothers would have loved to disagree."

"What who now?" Mabel asked.

"The worst pair of uptight dorks you would ever meet," Stan growled. "Ascot and Dickie. Blond-haired rich kids who claimed that no one solved a case quicker than them, but who found the Jersey Devil first, ey?!"

"You found WHAT?!"

"I wonder whatever happened to them." Ford pondered as he held his cleft chin.

"Who cares?" Stan said and motioned the kids out of the tent. "Now let's get outta here so I can show you what happens when a pelican eats a firecracker!"

"Stanley, no!"

"Stanley, YES!"

When the sun was setting beautifully on the ocean, the grunkles bought everyone some ice cream and they sat at the edge of the boardwalk to eat. At one point Stan got ice cream on his shirt with a small "Boo!" and had to leave to clean it off, but then got sidetracked and tried to cheat at a booth. Ford went over to rangle his brother, leaving the kids alone.

"Isn't this place great?" Mabel asked with Waddles licking her strawberry ice cream. "They were so lucky to grow up on a beach! Piedmont is so boring."

Dipper smiled at his sister and opened his mouth to respond, but something else caught his attention. A pair of look-alike kids were snickering and laughing as Grunkle Stan and Ford fought off a mean seagull that was trying to peek at the ice cream on Stan's chest. It was a cruel snicker, one the old men couldn't hear, but the kids could, only being a few feet away from them.

"What a couple of fools." The girl with short blonde curls laughed with a slight English accent.

"And does that one have six fingers?" The boy sneered with peering eyes, his hair greased and parted down the middle. "Ugh."

"Hey, hey!" Dipper snapped and stood up, pointing at the rude pair of siblings. "Shut it." He said darkly.

The boy scoffed with a cheeky smile. "Or what? What does it matter to you?"

"Yeah, you leave Grunkle Stan and Ford alone!" Mabel demanded, standing by her brother's side.

"Wait," The girl looked back at the old men, still fighting off the bird, and she cackled a mean laugh. "Six fingers? Rags for clothes? Stan and Ford? Are you the Pines family?"

Dipper and Mabel glared at them. "Yeah? So what?"

"I haven't heard that name since Uncle Ascot and Uncle Dickie told us about how they conquered the Jersey Devil and tricked some monsters to make the boys run away crying." The boy marveled.

Dipper and Mabel glared daggers at the kids, ready to snap at them, but a pair of adults came up behind the mean kids and a voice said coldly, "Bernard, Silvia, play nicely."

Mabel snickered. "Bernard…"

Dipper looked at the men who were around Ford and Stan's age. Their blond hair was freckled with gray, one of the men had a twirly mustache and wore a red and brown sweater-vest combo while the other was clean-shaved and wore a blue polo with khakis. Their blue eyes were cold and mean, and Mabel and Dipper instantly didn't like them. Ascot and Dickie smiled maliciously; these kids looked nearly identical to those pains in their sides. "I see twins run in your family, as well, do they?"

"Excellent deduction, Dickie." His brother commented. "My my my, I didn't think this town could get any worse, but here we are. Once again terrorized by the discount Mystery Twins."

"Hey!" Mabel snapped. "We're awesome! Our grunkles are the best! They go on super cool adventures all the time!"

Meanwhile Stan kicked the seagull away, making it squawk and dive for his red beanie. While Stan grabbed his hat in time and tugged, Ford grabbed the bird and pulled furiously.

Ascot and Dickie rolled their eyes in unison. "We can see that."

Huffing and puffing, Ford and Stan walked up to their kids while Stan readjusted his beanie and smiled down at the best pair of Mystery Twins he knew. "Kids, if we hurry we might make it to…"

Ford's eyes widened and then narrowed darkly. "No. Way."

"What? What…" Stan looked up and growled like an angry bulldog, a hand on Dipper and Mabel's shoulder instinctively. "Oh, great. You two."

"And so the Pines twins come crawling back, eh?" Ascot snorted. "I do hope the mysterious findings out in the West have served you well, Stanford, as you preached it would." He and his family looked up and down at their faded jeans and gruff stature.

"Clearly not." Dickie and the let slip his downfall. "And here I thought your family couldn't sink any lower."

He screamed as a pig bit his ankle and Stan stole the moment of weakness for his advantage, punching the old jerk in the face and Dickie slapping him in return, the two getting into a fight. The moment Stan punched Dickie, Ascot nearly punched Stan in retaliation, but Ford jumped him and started rolling on the docks with him. Mabel shrugged and pulled on Silvia's hair and punched her on the cheek while Bernard and Dipper began slapping each other.

And that was how Stan and Ford ended up fleeing from the cops with a teenager in their arms. Stan had to pull Mabel off of the girl like an angry cat at the sound of the sirens and Ford carried Dipper merely because the old scientist was much faster than the boy.

Luckily no one was hurt, aside from some bruises on their limbs from fighting, but Silvia had grabbed Mabel's arm awkwardly at some point during the fight and her long nails scratched Mabel's skin, actually just deep enough to make a bead or two of blood. So Ford sat Mabel on the table, her sleeve rolled up, while he tried to disinfect her injury, but Mabel kept pulling away and whimpering at the painful medicine.

"Mabel, please, you're worse than Stanley was." Ford said to ease the situation.

Mabel smiled and gripped his hand a little tighter as the medicine stung her arm. Ford then quickly wrapped it up as he scolded. "And really Stanley, you couldn't have controlled your temper?"

"You're one to talk, you jumped Ascot!"

"He was about to attack you!"

"Whatever, you were both awesome!" Dipper cheered.

"Yeah! Did you see the black eyes Dickie had!" Mabel laughed. "He'll be avoiding cameras for weeks!"

"Who says it never ends well to see old friends?" Stan asked and opened the cabinet to get started on a late dinner.

Over baked beans and hotdogs, or Beanies and Weenies as the Pines called them, Stan and Ford shared their plan with Dipper and Mabel, the map laid out on the table and the trail through Canada's islands written in pencil. The kids were beyond excited. The plan was actually pretty straightforward; they were all going home to Gravity Falls together. After first exploring Boston (mostly so the nerds in the family could geek about American History), they were going up north past Prince Edward Island and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, crossing the Labrador Sea for the Baffin Bay, passing the Cornwallis, Bathrust, and Melville Islands, sailing over the Beaufort Sea, down through the Chukchi Sea, and dipping around Alaska and down south for America until they arrived at Florence so the Stan O' War II could rest for whatever remained of summer.

"This looks incredible!" Dipper said, eyeing the newspaper articles on monsters around Canada and the foggy photographs that accompanied it.

"I'm so excited!" Mabel cheered, shoving her cheeks full of Beanies and Weenies.

"Then we'll head out first thing tomorrow!" Stan declared.

"Actually, can we go see Ma first?"

It was like a record had screeched horribly. Stan's whole body tensed, his jaw was tighter, and he was gripping his spoon much tighter than necessary. Ford, however, looked like he was caving in himself, like an animal curling up in fear to hide, his back hunched over and his head a bit lower. Dipper glared at his sister. "Mabel," He hissed in his warning tone.

"What?" Mabel asked gently. "I miss her. It'd be good to see her again, don't you think?"

"Well yeah, but…"

"I didn't know you had met her." Ford mumbled with a soft smile.

Mabel grinned. "Yeah! We talked on the phone sometimes when Dad would call. And we went to see her once. She loves us! She's super cool! She's the one that told me I'd one day marry a really handsome guy."

"She only said that cuz you wouldn't quit begging her to read your palm." Dipper sneered with a smile. "You know all her fortunes were fake, right?"

"The love behind them wasn't." Mabel insisted. "Come on, can't see just go say hello? We're already here, we might as well. She'd be so surprised!"

"I don't think that's a good idea, my dear." Ford said quietly.

"Why not?" Mabel asked gently.

"Well… given everything that has happened… it would just be very difficult."

"So is defeating a triangle demon, but you guys did it together, didn't you?" Mabel said with a soothing smile. She covered one of Ford's polydactyl hands and squeezed it reassuringly. "I know it'll be hard, but I think we should go see her? Don't you want to say hello?"

"Of course I do." Ford said quickly. "She's my mother, but…" His eyes went to Stan, suddenly concerned about something. "Stanley, you've been very quiet."

Mabel looked at her hero to find him engulfed in shame. She wondered if he had looked like that after Ford was lost behind the portal. He held his head with one hand, his elbows on the table, and the strong grunkle she knew resembled a tired old man too much for her liking. Mabel's heart dropped when she came to the conclusion that she caused that pain. "Grunkle Stan…"

"Look, it's no secret I did a bad job of staying in touch with her even before the portal business." Stan started with. "I definitely went months without a payphone for her."

"You're not the only one to blame." Ford sighed. "I hardly called her when I was in college and nothing changed when I moved to Gravity Falls. Fiddleford was actually the one who encouraged me to call her one day the summer before… before everything happened. That was the last time I spoke to her."

"Yeah well, I kept that character trait in my portrayal of you, Sixer." Stan growled, his anger at himself. "You know her; she's too smart. One long look at me and she would've known who I was. You can't fool the best conwoman in New Jersey. So I just straight-up avoided her. I didn't even go to Pa's funeral and showed up early to see you two gremlins being born, all so I could avoid her. And I would've been too tempted to dance on someone's grave if I had gone to the funeral." He added.

"Stanley,"

"Kidding, that was a joke. The point is, just popping in after all these years seems too little too late in my book. So, no. sorry, but we're not going."

"Grunkle Stan," Mabel said as soft as a kitten and got down from the table to stand next to him. "I'm sure Ma would wanna see you."

"I don't think so, sweetie…"

"That's not true." Mabel said firmly. "She loves you both. All moms love their kids, no matter how many stupid mistakes they make, or how old and grunkly they get." She added, making Stan crack a smile that didn't last long. "It doesn't matter how mad our mom would be, she'd still wanna talk to us. She even forgave Dipper for breaking her favorite mug."

"Geez, it's been five years…"

"And you still haven't replaced it, Dip-Dip." Mabel said and focused her attention on both of the old guys. "If you two really don't think you can go see Ma, it's okay. We don't have to go. But I think you guys want to go, and you two need to go. She needs to know the truth, she needs to know you're okay, and even if she doesn't take it well, at least you can say you tried and you won't have to worry about it anymore."

Stan and Ford's eyes flickered to each other to use that awesome twin-telepathy they had or whatever. Or maybe they were just close enough to be able to read minds with a single facial expression to go off of. Either way, Stan gently ruffled Mabel's hair with a smile and said, "Alright, we'll go see Ma tomorrow after breakfast."

Mabel wanted to cheer and shout and punch the air victoriously, but she managed to catch herself in time and only allowed a quiet "yes!" before hugging Grunkle Stan and saying, "I'm so proud of you guys." She quickly hugged Ford before returning to her dinner, choosing to ignore the star-struck looks on the old men's faces.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later and Mabel was sitting criss-cross in her hammock, wearing pajamas while knitting. The gentle clicking of her needles harmonized with the gentle rocking of the waves and her grunkle's humming from the tiny bathroom. Dipper was above her, reading a book quickly before bed, and when Stan emerged from the bathroom in his boxers and undershirt, taking his gray hair damp with a towel, and saw that his twin wasn't preparing for bed, he growled, "Sixer, do I have to drug you again?! Get down here!"

"I'm coming!" Ford called back.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Yeesh. You kids settled in okay?"

"Yeah," Dipper said casually.

"I love these hammocks!" Mabel said, rocking hers a little with joy. "Maybe we should replace the mattresses at the Shack with these!"

Stan chuckled as he threw his towel at the foot of the bunk bed and he noticed the beautiful deep violet yarn in his niece's lap. "Whatcha workin' on, Mabel? 'Nother sweater?"

"Yup!" Mabel said proudly to show a thick and cozy purple sweater that was a little more detailed than her usual creations. While this one lacked any pictures or designs, the sleeves had been woven with a special pattern down the arm and the wrists and neck were so thick and fluffy they resembled odd clouds you could sink into. "I wanna show Ma how much better I've gotten since she taught me."

Surprisingly, the mention of his mother made Stan smile, not frown. Ford came down the stairs just in time to hear Mabel say that, and they both smiled tiredly at their niece. "I didn't know she taught you how to knit."

"Oh yeah," Mabel said with a nod and resumed her work. "When Dipper and I were four or five we visited her for Thanksgiving with Mom and Dad and Grandma and Grandpa. I don't remember much about it, but I remember the delicious sweet potatoes with marshmallows, the flat's smell, and that Ma taught me how to knit. Mom and Dad and Grandma were busy in the kitchen and didn't want my help (I still have no idea why), and Grandpa Shermie had fallen asleep while watching the parade. Ma sat in this rocking chair, and at first I thought she was a witch and doing magic, making two shiny sticks click together to make something, but Ma laughed and explained what she was doing and asked if I wanted to do it, too. So she let me sit on her lap and follow her hands as we made a really pretty blanket until dinner was ready. Ma even let me take some yarn and a pair of needles home with me, and I haven't stopped knitting since."

Stan smiled, sitting on the bottom bunk. "That's really cool, sweetie."

Ford, who had slipped into the bathroom to change into his blue flannel pajamas, called from the other side of the door, "She will love a Mabel Pines original."

"Thanks. I hope so." Mabel inspected her work and gave a quick nod of approval before packing it away in her suitcase and curling up for bed.

One by one everyone settled down. Ford emerged with clean teeth and pajamas and climbed up to his bed, putting his glasses up on a shelf by his head. Dipper turned off the lamp on top of the dresser, leaving only Stan's nightstand-lamp on, and he set his book down and began to settle. Stan was just about to turn off his lamp, but Mabel sat up and gasped, "Wait! You guys! Tell us about the Jersey Devil!"

Dipper sat up excitedly and sided with his twin. "Yeah! When were you gonna tell us that one, anyways?"

Stan shrugged with a cheeky smile and Ford chuckled. "Oh come on, you don't wanna hear about the first pair of Mystery Twins." Stan teased, waving the idea away.

"Yeah we do!" Dipper argued with a grin. "Come on!"

"It can even be our bedtime story!" Mabel suggested, snuggling into her blankets and smiling at her uncle with those adorable eyes and cheeks no man was immune to.

"How old are you again?"

"Oh, just tell them, Stanley."

"Alright alright," Stan rubbed his hands together with a toothy grin and wiggled his fingers to begin the story. "The year was 1960-something in Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Summer had just started, but before we could figure out which urban legend to hunt down that day, Pa called for Stanford and was really mad about something…"

"Now, hold on, Stanley." Ford said, sitting up a little from lying on his front and listening to his brother's story. "Pa called for both of us! In fact, we called for 'Stan Pines' but we both knew that meant he wanted us both."

"What?!" Stan gasped, pretending to be offended. "Me, innocent and perfect, being angrily called? Never!"

Dipper and Mabel laughed, not sure if Stan had ever truly been innocent, and so from that point forward the elder twins told the story together, interrupting each other with corrected versions of the story and doubling the runtime, but the kids weren't complaining. Hearing about the old Freak Show, killing the Sibling Brothers, and basically acting how Dipper and Mabel would act on a search for the devil, was hands-down the best bedtime story in the history of bedtime stories, and by the time they had gotten to the part where Shanklin the Stab-Possum saved the day, Waddles was asleep on Stan's bed and the kids were shiny-eyed.

"And that's how Stanley and I ended up grounded for the summer." Ford concluded with, adding in a shrug. "To be honest, we didn't even mind. Solitary confinement is't so bad with the right prison mate. Pa was angry when Stan confessed, but I think some small part of him appreciated the honesty. I guess I'll never know."

"And that's when you two knew you'd be adventuring together for the rest of your lives and everyone lived happily ever after!" Mabel cheered.

Ford laughed at her adorable nature and commented, "I suppose we did."

"Alright, everyone get some shut eye." Stan gruffed as he laid down, gently pushing Waddles out of the way so he could rest his legs, but all that did was cause the pig to trot up to his hand and lay underneath it for sleep. "G'night."

Three voices returned the wish for pleasant dreams and Stan turned off the lamp. The room was soon filled with the gentle snores of the four Pines, escaping into a world entirely their own.

#GF #gravity falls #ford pines #stan pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #week 2: birhtday #june 15th #HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!#ANGST AND FLUFF

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magic-miraculous · 5 years ago

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Daminette December-- So Close (And Yet So Far), Chapter Two “Blind Date”

———————————————————————————————————– Marinette absolutely adored Gotham University. She felt free there, away from the responsibilities and drama that she’d been sucked into in Paris. Ever since the defeat of Hawkmoth a few months before, Mari had found that the only tie she had to the city was her parents. Luka was touring with Jagged as an intern, Kagami had gone to Japan for pre-Olympic training and University, and Chloe was planning to move to New York with her mother after her father lost his job as Paris’s mayor. She had no contact with anyone else in the class, but she did hear what some of them were up to through Luka, who was told from Juleka. Apparently, Lila and Adrien had started dating a few weeks into the summer (Marinette had left for Gotham just a few days after graduation, staying at the university for a summer program specifically for foreign students; where she met Damian, actually, even though he wasn’t a foreign student of course), and Alya and Nino had broken up yet again soon after. They got together for the first time during their last year in college, but the relationship had always been rocky. Alya was under Lila’s command, and Nino didn’t appreciate that. Luka said that this might be the real end for them, though. Nathaniel got into a prestigious art program at the Sorbonne, and Sabrina became one of Lila’s new cronies. The rest of the class didn’t do anything that Marinette or Luka found noteworthy. As much as thinking about her old class angered her, she felt comfort in the fact that she was able to escape and find such amazing friends.

Chloe, Luka, Kagami, Allegra, Felix, Allan, Claude. And now Damian, too, as difficult as it was for him to admit.

Marinette really appreciated Damian’s sobering and serious presence. He brought her back down when she spiraled, and he actually listened to her, which she really appreciated. He wasn’t the type of person Marinette ever expected to be friends with, but she’d found their personalities really complemented each other. Tikki even thought he reminded her of a black cat, and Mari agreed.

The duo was quiet on their walk, as Mari expected they would be. Mari waved as people she knew passed by, but Damian kept walking. She had to take quicker steps to keep up with his brisk pace, but with her extra endurance she wasn’t out of breath.

It was outside one of the academic buildings that a club had set up a table covered in newspaper-wrapped books. The sign in front of the table said “BLIND DATE WITH A BOOK: $2.00”

“Oh, look!” Mari said, pointing at the table. “Let’s go over!” She grabbed Damian’s hand, an act that he surprisingly didn’t recoil from as he would have if it was anyone else who’d done it, and headed over to the table.

“Hi! Want a book?” a boy sitting behind the table asked. “Some general info is written on the front, just so you have a general idea of what you’re getting into, but all the titles are hidden.”

Marinette picked up a thin book, reading the notes on the cover. “SUPERHEROES, BIRDS, WITTY BANTER”

“Can I take this one, please?”

“It’s all yours! Just two dollars, please.”

Marinette fished through her bag and frowned. “Any chance you would take euros? I need to convert some more cash…”

“I’ve got it, Mari,” Damian said, pulling out some money from his wallet.

“No, it’s--”

“It’s only two dollars,” he replied. “No big deal.”

“I’ll pay you back,” she said, making it clear that she wasn’t going to let him get away with that.

“If you say so. Want to keep walking?”

“Yeah!”

As they walked, Marinette started to unwrap the book. “Superheroes, birds, witty banter,” she told Damian. “Any guesses?”

“Comic book?” he suggested.

“Right you are!” She held up a copy of “Batman and Robin: Bad Blood.”

Damian scoffed. So it was one of the fake stories. There was no ‘bad blood’ between him and his father, and even when Dick was acting as Batman he was sure to keep things professional.

“--are so cool!” Mari said, flipping through the pages. Damian watched to make sure she didn’t trip over anything on the ground. “Who’s your favorite?”

Damian’s favorite hero? He couldn’t say Robin; that would be conceited, and on the slight chance she ever found out his alter ego she would think he was a raging narcissist. Definitely not Todd, and he would rather die than have Grayson find out he said something nice about the eldest brother. That only left--

“I guess Red Robin is pretty cool,” he replied calmly. “What about you?”

“I really like Robin,” Mari said. “Even though he has terrible fashion sense and his costume could use a serious update.”

Damian felt an unnatural blush forming from her first comment, but her second one sobered his thoughts. “What do you mean, ‘bad fashion sense’? His costume is tasteful, and timeless!”

“More like ‘lost in time,’” Mari told him, flipping to a page in the comic that had his full outfit on display. “The cape is old-fashioned and a bit too long, and the color blocking just gives you a headache, you know? The colors work, but they’re also very bright and… violent, maybe? I can’t find the right word, but you know what I mean, right?”

“Sure,” he muttered, staring at the page. He never really thought about any of the things she said, but now those critiques were all he could see. He’d have to talk to Alfred or one of his brothers about potentially changing it.

Wait, why did he care so much what she thought of his alter ego’s outfit? For some reason, he now craved her approval. He didn’t like that feeling at all. At least she looked happy, though. He always saw a light in her eyes when she talked about fashion, and this was just the distraction she needed to get over the stress of getting so many unsolicited calls.

Damian found himself wishing he could stare at that smile forever.

———————————————————————————————————–

BONUS #1:

“So, could you find out who the number belongs to?”

“Yeah, it’s a guy named Adrien Agreste. Age eighteen. Son of Gabriel Agreste; big fashion guy. Kid’s a model, currently living in London and attending University there. Business school, of course.”

“Any chance you can make it so his number can’t call this one?” Damian asked, handing Tim a piece of paper with Marinette’s number on it. “But you aren’t allowed to look up the holder of this number. You have to promise me.”

“Yeah, sure,” Tim replied, already typing away. “Okay, so now whenever he tries to call this number he’ll get one of those ‘why are you harassing women?’ messages. That good?”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

Tim blinked. “Did you… did you just thank me for something?”

“I take it back.”

“Too late! I’m going to cherish this moment forever, Demon Spawn. I hope you know that.”

“I’ll stab you, Drake. So help me, I’ll do it right now.”

“So that is a knife in your sock! Isn’t that uncomfortable?”

“Not as uncomfortable as it would be to be stabbed by it.”

“Touche.”

———————————————————————————————————–

BONUS #2:

In the Batcave:

Damian: Do you guys think my suit is outdated?

Dick: It’s a classic!

Damian: That’s what I thought too, but recently someone I know from school said that it was ‘lost to time,’ and that the colors were blocky and too bright and I’m starting to see it.

Tim: Is it the same person whose number you gave me to block from that creep?

Jason: What person? What creep?

Damian: Drake, I swear to all that you hold dear, I will stab you.

Tim: Do it. I’m calling your bluff.

Bruce: No stabbing anyone! We’ve talked about this!

Damian (mouthing to Tim): Watch your back!

Bruce: But yeah, the outfit can be a bit much sometimes.

Dick: *indignant noises*

Damian: Alfred, can we make some changes?

Alfred: Of course, Master Damian. I’ll have some new sketches ready in the next few days.

Jason: Hope your mystery friend likes it!

Damian: *scowls at Jason* You’re next.

———————————————————————————————————–

Hope you enjoy the bonuses! They're my favorite parts that I've written so far. Also I was planning to post this earlier but I’m dumb and accidentally deleted ALL of my tabs I had up and had to reorganize everything which took a WHILE so yeah.

Tagstagstagsallthetags:

@dawnwave16 @bluerosette23 @18-fandoms-unite-08 @northernbluetongue @latinawithbooks @blue-peach14 @weird-pale-blonde-person @astridflies @annabellabrookes @iloontjeboontje @abrx2002 @valeks-princess @interobanginyourmom @vixen-uchiha @sofmimis @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @thesunanditsangel @crazylittlemunchkin @caffeinetheory (comment/send me an ask if you want to be added! Also, please feel free to lmk if the notifications aren’t working and I’ll my best to fix it!)

@daminette-december2019 @ozmav @maribat-archive

All of the prompts are available to see on @daminette-december2019 on Tumblr, and that might give you a general idea of how this fic is going to go (but there will definitely be some twists, I promise you that!)

COMING UP NEXT-- Chapter 3 "Decorating"

#daminette #daminette december #daminette december blind date #daminette au #maribat #maribat au #marinette x damian #marinette dupain cheng #marinette x batfam #miraculous #miraculous au #blind date #chapter 2 #chapter 2 blind date #Ao3 #wip #so close (and yet so far)#sarah does a thing

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border-spam · 5 years ago

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Wolf in wolf’s clothing

Gift fic for the lovely @artisthicc-nikyri of her oc’s Ari and Jameson, and her Troy!

Make sure to check out her art blog for more of her amazing shit

Jameson had been right.

This was so much easier than working in the kitchens...

Ari snorted to herself smugly as she popped another piece of hard candy into her mouth, lazily eying the slow crawl of the progress bar on her monitor as the file continued to render.

This was a piece of cake, this was so chilled out in comparison.

She’d thought at first it would have been terrifying, that working in such close proximity with the God King would have been even worse than dealing with the head cooks, but man, she’d had nothing to worry about in retrospect. A whole month now since she’d joined the editing team, and she’d not seen Troy once.

The other editors in his media team had filled her in, and it seemed for all J insisted God King Calypso was a “Pretty normal person under all the bullshit”, he was an enigma to work for. Fair, but weird. Quiet, but frightening. If you handed in your projects on time and didn’t get in his way? The job was piss as long as you had the skills he wanted. Safe lodgings within the main COV compound, food and medical care, and a position in the God King’s own media team was something followers would tear each other’s faces off for, and did according to the footage she was currently working on.

If you didn’t pull your weight though?

Well.

They’d not gone into details, but made clear through hushed warnings that she really should make sure she didn’t fuck this up.

Bobbing her head in time to the music thrumming through her earphones, she slid further into the huge custom chair, pulling her knees up to her chest with a shiver in the cool dark of the editing room. It was always cold in here she’d found, aircon set to suck the heat out of the machines and consoles that lined the rows of editing desks in the dim glow of the sleep mode displays, while Calypso’s throne-like personal station flickered data across the wall of monitors it faced that she’d yet to actually see him use. Helios had been so pompous and insufferably showy when it came to displays of wealth, but even living on the station for years with J before they ended up on Pandora, she’d never had access to tech or setups like this before. “The God Twins provide” really did have credence when you worked directly under them. Everything from the top end rigs to the leather high-backed editing chairs stamped with Troy’s emblem felt like it cost more than she’d ever earn, a sad reality she considered while running her thumb along the bottom row of keys on her backlit keyboard.

Ariana Serino shone at her from the custom board’s base, pulsing red light against matte black just like everything else in the room. For someone who was literally never here, Troy clearly had a tight grip on the department’s aesthetic.

She had hated the kitchens, she really had.

The head cooks were egotistical shitheads with superiority complexes who like so many of the Twins’s followers, saw any step up in authority as somehow being closer to their Gods. They knew she was like a sister to Jameson, and they knew how close Jameson was to Father Troy. It had painted a target on her she’d rather have avoided, and they had never, once, gotten off her damn back.

ANYTHING they could berate her over had been used against her, anything to make them feel like they were better than her. Better than someone so close to the King’s Pastor.

J knew, he’d seen how tired she had been, how stressed. It had been him that had gotten her this sweet gig, and she’d made sure to work her ass off for the last month straight. No one seemed to have actually noticed, but then again, no one was screaming abuse at her either, so she must be doing a good enough job. Troy didn’t come across as the sort of boss to hold back in letting her know if she wasn’t.

Checking in on her next task with a quick click on the flashing mail icon on her screen, she sighed and rolled her stiff shoulders with a stretch, tapping the keybinds to begin the asset download as she scanned the mail contents. _ _

“Let’s Flay 22.12.NL, due scheduling & upload 48 hours fn.

Focus on clip 4, 7, & 11, Ty closeups, keyframes 4-gore use @ clip 1-2. Get that shit visceral.

GKT” _ _

She’d certainly not had any negative feedback from the God King at least, then again, she’d not had any words from him bar these shorthand communications, and they seemed identical to the ones he sent to the full editing group. She’d wondered more than once how much he actually knew about her based on what Jameson had told him in order to get her this position, or, if he actually even knew about her at all.

J loved to gloat to her about all the effort he’d had to labor over to get her in, all the late night convincing and grandiose bullshitting he’d done in her favor to the God King’s ear, wheedling her into the editing team like his own personal project, but honestly? She was pretty sure Troy didn’t even know her name, let alone much else. She was a symbol on his mailing list, a faceless employee to pump out fuel for the COV media machine at his behest, and being so unimportant had some sweet benefits.

Ones like the 3am flashing on the wall clock facing her across the room, neon numbers burning red through the inky darkness.

Mannn, she thought with a smirk as she checked the open messenger app on screen. She’d had such a good lay in today…

Not being important meant no one actually cared when she showed up for her shift. She’d realised last week after oversleeping and arriving hours late in a panic, then not having anyone so much as bat an eye. Shifts here didn’t seem to actually matter. They had assigned ones, but people just seemed to really come and go as they pleased. Long as they clocked in the required amount of hours and sent on their completed tasks, there apparently wasn’t any consequences, and that suited her perfectly.

She could sleep as late in the day as she wanted, drag her ass out of bed and to her desk, and work away till the early AM hours. A nice empty editing studio with no distractions, no colleagues to deal with, and no J pinging her 40 times an hour with silly chatter, she confirmed as she checked the empty notifications in the chat app. He must be asleep, it was literally the only time the guy shut up, not that she’d change that for the world. Jameson filled the sad silences of Ari’s life with infectious positivity. She owed him so much…

The sudden flash of fluorescent light as the room’s door swung open startled her out of her thoughts, and immediately into habits formed a decade ago on Eden-6. She froze, silent, heart slowing as her eyes narrowed and then shifted smoothly towards the danger on the other side of the room as she heard the door slam shut.

Padded, heavy footsteps marked someone’s approach along the side of the low walled editing desk rows, and she sunk lower into the darkness of her cubicle, flattening her silhouette like dad had taught her years ago as she slid the headphones down around her neck. Stay low. Stay quiet. Listen closely. Don’t move. It won’t see you. You won’t be eaten.

She felt her heart skip a beat as the shadow appeared before the predator, the dim lights of the editing room just enough to cast it on the floor as they approached, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she for a moment recognised the narrow height of the shape prowling towards her row. Jameson. Thank God, for a second she’d thought…

No, not Jameson. It was still coming, and the silhouette was only getting larger. Jameson wasn’t this tall. Jameson wasn’t this graceful. She’d convinced herself for a moment that she was safe, but she wasn’t.

Ariana felt her bones turn to ice as the harsh light of the data flickering across the throne’s monitors revealed the towering outline of God King Troy.

He shifted slowly, back turning towards her as he faced his desk, unaware of the woman watching him from under the gaps of her monitors.

He looked.. tired? Smaller, softer. Not exactly as terrifying as she had prepared herself for, not as imposing in a loose sweater and low set glasses as he was in raised collars and draped fur. He was still very clearly Father Troy, but like he’d shucked off a heavy costume after a long day. Neater, less makeup, hair looser and not as spiked. No chains or accessories hanging from his belt, just his slacks and a rolled up sweater sleeve his massive prosthetic was connecting to its socket through.

She trembled nervously as he stiffly lowered his weight into the hulking chair in front of her, settling the cup of coffee he’d been carrying down next to his flesh arm as he deftly hit keys with the cybernetic fingers of his right and began to pull up files across the monitors flashing to life in front of him.

He had no idea she was here Ari realised, beginning to calm as the scent of his coffee filed the room alongside the quick tapping of his mismatched fingers across keys. What was she meant to do…?

He clearly thought he was alone here. She’d never heard of the God King looking like this, the twins were always pristine in their curated appearances when around others. Grunge psycho-chic or draped in gold and jewels, but never average. The idea of Troy looking relatively normal like this? It felt like she shouldn’t be seeing it at all. It felt private. She pressed her palms harder against the flat of her desk and eyed the distance between the curve of his shoulders and the entry doorway she was considering bolting through.

“Shit” she hissed through gritted teeth. He’d catch her, he’d either see her from the corner of his eye or hear the automated door as it opened for her, she was running out of options. If he caught her trying to sneak out, he’d probably be even angrier, right? He’d prefer if she just broke the silence and apologised for interrupting him, she decided as she swallowed the nervous lump insisting on tightening her throat. J said he liked it when people were honest. He liked it when people didn’t bullshit him, and J knew Troy. She should just.. greet him. Dad used to say it was better to face a Tyrant head first than die with its teeth in your back when you tried to run, right?

She slowly straightened, lifting her chest off the desk and leaning silently back into her seat as she carefully tucked her hair behind her ears and flattened out her tank. Wide eyes not leaving the back of his head as he hunched over his station while she began to pump herself up.

You got this Ariana. You’ve faced bigger fangs than this asshole has, he’s just a man. He can be reasonable, just say something.

She breathed out slowly, steadying her lungs before breaking the silence.

“Forgive me your majesty, I didn’t know y-”

She startled out of her sentence as he whipped round to face her, unprepared for the violent speed of his reaction as he rose out his seat.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE??” Troy bellowed over her quiet greeting, and her brain stalled in trying to respond as he stormed towards her desk.

“I.. I.. I’m just.. working some overtime, Father Troy, catching up on som - Ah!”

She flinched as he yanked the mouse out of her hand, ice cold metal digits tearing it out of her fingers and onto the desk in front of him, expertly pulling up her activity monitor script over the chat window where Jameson’s afk profile pic still flashed.

“Overtime? Fucking bullshit.” he growled, flashing gold capped teeth as he sneered inches from her face. “LOOK.”

She cleared her throat quietly, cowering under his looming torso as she snapped her eyes to the onscreen log he was referring to.

“You clocked in 3 hours ago.. Bunny..” -Her chat nick? He’d seen oh god this was so embarrassing oh g- “Overtime means working after your shift, not starting it in the middle of the fucking night. Did you just lie to me?!”

Wow. She was dead. This was it. It was the end. Why’d she ever listened to J, he was an idiot. She should have just run. She was going to be ripped apart by this lanky asshole and it was all J’s fault for insisting he was nice underneath. She was going to haunt that green bitch for the rest of his life. Nothing left to lose now, she accepted with finality. Just be honest. He was either going to break her neck or not.

“I’m.. sorry.” She whispered, then continued as she realised with rising surprise that he was waiting to hear the rest.

“I was very late today and I just wanted.. to make sure I finished these edits for you for tomorrow. I don’t have the right tech in my quarters, it felt like the right thing to do was just stay here and get it done..”

Ari waited as the silence continued, swallowing tightly as she raised her eyes slowly, hoping for a positive reaction. He was quiet, still hovering above her and leaning heavy on the massive prosthetic still resting on her desk as he massaged the bridge of his nose with his human fingers, but his face had relaxed, his mouth no longer a tight grimace. He just looked.. sad, and tired, and like he was done with this.

“You’re Ariana, right?” he muttered through an exhale as he pressed his fingers tighter into the corners of his closed eyes under the glasses.

“Yes Tr-SIR! Sir. Ariana Ser-”

“I don’t care.”

She jumped slightly as the metal limb to her right lifted off the desk as he stood.

“I don’t care when you get the work done. It’s fine.” he sighed, voice rough and quiet.

“I don’t shift people late because I don’t want people here late, but you can stay till you get your shit done.”

His hand dropped to his side as he looked down at her, meeting her worried gaze over the frames of his glasses.

“..but don’t ever lie to me again. You’re here because Jameson recommended you, and as much as a pain in the ass as he can be, I trust Jameson. This is your one strike.”

She slowly felt the tension relax out of her joints as he turned and began to walk back towards his station, flopping down into the massive chair with a sigh as he raised his eyes to hers again.

“If he hadn’t, and you were anyone else and lied to me like that? …You’d be dead where you sat.”

Ari twisted her fingers between her hands nervously as he swiveled towards his monitors and began to type once more. How the hell had she survived that. How had that worked out when she’d been so close to getting the axe, figuratively and literally. She checked the chat app once more while beginning to settle back into a more comfortable position. Jameson was still offline, he was probably sleeping soundly through the most stress she’d had in years, typical.

Opening the editing software again, she began to work on the next clip in her log, painfully aware of typing as quietly as possible so as not to interrupt her new colleague.

As the minutes ticked by, she found herself relaxing slowly. The atmosphere stayed desperately tense, and the God King’s heavy silence punctuated each harsh snap of a key or frustrated sigh he made all the more as they continued to work together. Troy was noticeably on edge, fidgeting in the corner of her vision every now and then, tugging at the rolled shoulder of his sweater or trying to sweep his hair forward as if his appearance was upsetting him, making him feel awkward in some way.

He was angry with himself, more than anything. This was Jameson’s friend. This was his only friend’s closest companion, the person he described as a sister, and this was going to be her first experience of him?

He hadn’t meant to snap earlier. She’d just caught him so unprepared. No one was meant to be here tonight, he should have been able to get these final shots compiled and queued for upload in peace. Instead, he was sitting in the same room as someone he’d probably just terrified, trying to work while hyper aware he was out of character, and he hated being out of character around others. He didn’t even have his fucking hair done, he looked like a tool. This was not the kind of cringe he enjoyed, and he had no experience in how to deal with this situation.

Should he say something? He wasn’t sure, she probably didn’t want to talk to him anyway he worried, glancing over his shoulder at the back of her monitors, just able to make out her hands working away under them. Jameson would tell him to say something, but he didn’t know what that something should even be. What if he just made this worse. This wheedling grip of anxiety in his gut was one of Troy’s least favorite feelings. It was the kind of stupid, unmanageable worry that left your heart beating just a little too fast, your palm sweaty, it was horrible. He liked to be in control, always. Of everything, but especially himself. Feeling like a nervous child in his own damn editing office, where he had come to clear his mind tonight so he could possibly get some sleep later? It was bullshit, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and tapped his fingers against the empty coffee cup to his left, trying to focus on what he should say rather than how awkward the atmosphere was. “You.. uh..”

He winced to himself at how his voice caught in his throat. Great start, God King. Fuck. Get your act on!

“-Ahem- You know Jameson a long time, right?” He prompted, noting the sounds of her typing had stopped in response, and the slight squeak of leather behind him meant she had shifted in her seat.

“Yes sir...” Ari responded meekly, barely audible over the wall of monitors between them.

“Troy. Troy is ok right now. It’s not like there’s anyone else around, huh?” He called back, feeling his confident act begin to fall back into place as his practiced nonchalant speaking tone shifted over the tightness in his voice from a moment ago.

He felt the pull of a smirk at the corners of his mouth as he heard a soft breath of a laugh from Ariana, and the tension beginning to disperse from the room.

“Yes, si-Troy! Sorry. Troy.” She called back, louder this time, and he leaned back a little more comfortably into his seat. “Yeah we’ve known each other a long time!” She continued, voice tilting upwards in obvious excitement.

“We met on Helios, when we were kids.” Ari offered, noting the slight turn of the Holy Twin’s head towards her as he listened.

“Well I was a kid, he was a bit older, but we were in the same class in what passed for a school on that place. He didn’t have many friends his age I guess, and I had no friends at all, so he kind of just attached to me! You know how some people are just like that?” A quiet snort of agreement from the desk in front of her making clear that yes, Troy knew exactly what ‘kind of people’ Jameson was exactly like.

“We just adopted each other then.” She followed. “We’ve kind of always been together since. He talked too much, he said, and that I talked too little! He’s been trying to make me get better at that.. actually.. uhh..” she trailed off, feeling a rush of returned awkwardness in the fact she was currently monologuing at a deity who could rip in her two if she irritated him.

He shifted further in his seat, turning far enough for her to catch the reflection of his monitors in his eye as he glanced back at her. “No, go on.” he encouraged reassuringly. “Kind of interesting to hear someone else’s opinion of the caustic tool for once.”

She caught the wolfish smirk before he turned back towards his screens, and felt a genuine smile of her own blossom in the relief that she wasn’t talking too much, he actually seemed to be enjoying this in some way. “Sure. Umm... Oh! We left Helios before everything went crazy up there, not long after all that shit happened with Jack. I think the COV was just starting up around then..” she mused for a moment, then let out a short laugh. “He’s my brother now I guess, and like you said before, he’s a pain in the ass, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything!” Ari chuckled, before excitedly continuing. “Oh man! Sorry, I-I mean, I don’t need to explain that, do I! I guess you of all people know all about that kind of feeling for someone like a sibling, right?”

Her smile faded as the seconds ticked by to no response, just the quick tapping of his fingers across the keys as he continued to work. That cold tension began to creep back into the air, and for a moment, she wondered if she really should have shut up earlier. “Where were you before Helios?” he prompted, voice controlled and tone unsettlingly blasé as he deftly opened up 3 more windows and dragged clips into them, his head subtly moving with his eyes as they shifted from file to file. “You clearly weren’t born there.”

The misdirection didn’t escape her, but she knew he was purposefully attempting to put her at ease by continuing the conversation, and it wasn’t a gesture she’d reject. “No, no I was born on Eden-6. I was there my whole childhood with my family before we all moved to-”

His raucous barking laugh interrupted her mid sentence, and she blanched, unsure of what she had said that was funny.

“Eden-6! Mannnnn!” he balked, hiccuping laughter rolling into a growling chuckle. “Dude, sucks for you, that place is a fuckin’ swampass shithole.”

He broke into laughter again, tilting his head back and running his hand back through the thick hair that she realised had been falling in front of his face this whole time, and Ariana saw red.

What the hell was funny about Eden-6? They were living on fucking Pandora by choice, and he calls Eden-6 a shithole? Seriously? She squeezed her fists shut and barely registered the bite of her long nails as they dug into her palms, completely aware she was losing the battle to keep quiet and not say something she’d regret.

“Wow. Funny. So what kind of up-its-own-ass wealthy bullshit homeworld did you come from?” Ari snapped back, before almost instantly reeling from how stupid an idea that outburst was.

She recoiled back into her chair as fear crept up her spine again, and felt her stomach drop even further as he slowly stood out of his seat, turning towards her.

His icy eyes met hers as he crossed the distance between their desks, half hooded and lazy above the rims of his glasses, maintaining their contact as he stopped in front of her monitors and calmly reached his prosthetic over before gently plucking the empty soda can off the desk beside her. She felt a wave of confusion as he turned with one last glare in her direction, before he began to walk towards the wall near the entrance door. She finally noticed he was carrying his coffee cup in the other hand.

Oh.

He wasn’t going to kill her. He was just.. getting more drinks. For both of them it seemed, considering she could hear the hiss of the team’s coffee machine in the dark, and the quiet open and close of their small stocked fridge. Ari stared down at her hands in her lap, cringing with each step as she heard him approach, desperately embarrassed by her overreaction.

She winced as she heard the clunk of the soft drink can he’d placed on the desk inches in front of her, and muttered a breathy “Sorry.”, still avoiding looking at him directly. The tap of his prosthetic’s finger on the rim of the can was a clear signal he wanted her to however, and she reluctantly raised her eyes to meet his, painfully aware of her flushed cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it.” he chuckled, still looming over the rise of her monitors like a lanky predator eying up its next meal. “J said you were good at speaking your mind. I kinda appreciate that with the people I have here. Means the feedback I get is uhh” he raised his eyebrows as he thoughtfully looked to the side “.. actually useful at times.”

“Besides, you’re wrong anyway, little miss thinks-she-knows-shit.” he scoffed, smiling into his coffee as he sipped from the refilled cup, then letting his gaze shift afterwards from the hot drink back to the extremely confused Ariana. “I’m from a shithole too.”

It took her a second for what he’d said to really register, and then Ari laughed. Really laughed, deep from her guts in snorting, gasping bursts. A moment later, he joined her, and for the first time that night it was truly genuine from him, even if it was quiet and tired, and still a little awkward.

The pause after was comfortable, and he stalked back to his chair, slumping into it as he nursed his drink. She eyed the can he’d brought her, the exact same energy drink as what had been empty on her desk, and the realisation he had been paying such attention felt oddly flattering to Ariana, like warmth deep in her belly. She reached out and touched the can, only the sounds of Troy sipping his drink and the fans and quiet clicks of the machine components around them breaking the silence. It wasn’t something she was used to. She was used to not mattering enough to notice things about, and wasn’t sure how to really handle this feeling. It felt welcoming, but frightening. Like being on the precipice of something. Like change.

“By the way” he smoothly interrupted her thoughts as he called over to her “I’m here most nights, around this time. If, you know, you do prefer working late, just keep in mind I’ll be around too. Long as it doesn’t affect your work, I’m ok to share the editing room with you like this.”

Ari was unsure why exactly, but that did something to her. It was innocent, it was an olive branch of friendship, she knew, but the reaction was visceral. Her instincts kicked in once more and a thrill of cold ran up her spine, prompting her to stand quickly and finally attempt to take her leave, approaching his desk nervously to bid her farewell.

“Troy, um, God King, thank you! For.. the chat, it was .. fun?” she stammered while eying the exit door as he lazily watched from over his raised cup.

“I’ve finished the tasks you queued for me so I’m going to, um, go to sleep hahhh.” she laughed unconvincingly, wringing her hands together as she awkwardly sidestepped towards the door, slowly turning away from him as she edged closer to her escape.

“Mmhm.. sure. Night.” he mused, cocking an eyebrow as he considered her with deep set interest, before continuing just as she reached towards the door controls.

"Oh, and Bunny?“ Troy drawled, watching as she stopped in her tracks and slowly turned to face the editing chair he was draped over.

"Keep all of this - " He gestured lazily between them, and raised a finger to tap the frame of his glasses as he locked eyes with her over the lenses. "- to yourself."

"Being cute doesn't stop wolves from eating little rabbits alive... Understand?“

There was a pregnant silence as Ari parsed the threat, the roaring of her own pulse overpowering the background hum of the cooling fans thrumming in the darkness of the almost entirely empty editing room she was so close to escaping from.

"Yes... sir” she swallowed shakily “ I understand."

She winced at the streak of blue light that pierced the darkness when Troy's metallic canines caught the monitor's glow as his mouth split into a vicious grin.

"Good girl. Sleep tight then. Night night." the God King sneered through those sharp, sharp teeth...

---

But Ariana didn’t sleep tight, and she spent all night trying to work out exactly why.

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

If you enjoyed this I’d love to hear comments or feedback, and you can check the rest of my twins writing:

Here

#borderlands #borderlands 3 #bl3 #troy calypso #calypso twins #ariana-serino #jameson-black #my hcs #my writing

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devil-in-the-d3tails · 5 years ago

Text

It’s the End of the World as We Know It - Chapter 1

summary: During the international quarantine in your first-ever pandemic, the people around you slowly begin to disappear. As the world grows quieter and quieter, you find yourself all alone-- no power, no friends, and only one goal: to find whoever of your friends might be left and reunite with them.You're naive to think anything can be that simple. As you're faced with ever-increasing loneliness, you run into some boys who apparently went to the same high school as you. Will you join forces with them to figure out your strange circumstances together, or will you brave loneliness in a world that is slowly crumbling apart?

Link on AO3!

words: 4,452

rating: M - Mature

genre: angst/humor, romance, adventure, apocalypse AU, reader-insert

warnings: sort of depressing content, a smidge of violence, cursing

a/n: hello, hello! this is my first fic for haikyuu (originally posted on AO3), and i wanted to post it on tumblr as well just for shits n gigs. please enjoy!

- Beginning of the End -

It was a Thursday the day everyone disappeared.

The world was quiet outside, but it was loud in your phone, on account of the international quarantine. Everyone was tweeting, making dumb videos, playing video games. You would sit in your room for hours on end, scrolling through your phone as you mourned the loss of your senior year of high school. No prom, no graduation, no more arts and crafts club. It was bad enough that your closest friend group had been disbanded before your senior year even started-- it was just bad luck, but they all left to live in different states while you were left alone in suburbia.

You stayed home with your mom while your dad went to work-- he was considered an essential worker, as he worked in the grocery store. Your mom was much more active than you, constantly cleaning or cooking or going for a walk. It was admirable, but it irritated you how she would always try and get you to interact with her activities. She did it because she was probably worried about you, and she was probably lonely. You were lonely, too-- your friends lived miles away in the vast expanse of the suburbs, and your home was tucked into the fringes of soccer mom society. Your backyard was larger than most, and it was perfect for when you would host kickbacks with your friends. Recently, however, you had no reason to use the large space.

On Thursday, you decided to put down your phone for a while and play fetch with your dog. She was the biggest and fluffiest best friend you’d ever had, a german shepherd named Indie, short for Indiana, as in the archaeologist. You thought the name was fitting, because she could find almost anything with her nose-- you and your mom had trained her to do that a few summers ago.

Your mom had gone on a walk before you decided to play fetch with the dog. You had left your phone on the kitchen table. It wasn’t until the sun began to set and you felt your arm begin to ache when you noticed that she’d been gone for a while.

You gave Indie her stick, though she sniffed and whined at you stressfully. You frowned, and let her inside as you checked your phone. A few notifications from your friends’ group chat:

4:47pm

Kimi: Anybody else’s power go out?

Callie: omg i thought it was just Ohio!

Kimi: Nah, we got it in Connecticut, too.

Emily: New York, too!

They were asking if you had experienced the same thing.

6:48pm

Me: i didnt notice, i was playing with indie. wbu, sami?

Sami had moved to L.A., about two hours from your home, so you guys were able to hang out most weekends if you took the train or if she drove out to you. She didn’t even read the chat.

6:48pm

Me: bitch i know ur in quarantine smh read my message

[Kimi, Callie, and Emily liked your message!]

You dialed your mom’s number as you went to turn on the T.V., only to be met with static. You frowned, and surfed a few channels only to be met with more static before you turned it off. Her voicemail blared through your phone speakers, and that was when you started to worry.

You hung up, called your dad.

“Hey, honey!” He answered-- he must’ve been on break.

“Dad, did the power go out?”

“Yeah, for a couple minutes there. Did it happen at home, too?”

“Yeah…” You trailed off. Indie licked your hand, and whined some more. “Hey, mom’s not answering her phone and she’s been on a walk for a while. Like, three hours.”

“Huh.” Your dad let out a contemplative sigh. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be okay. Maybe she’s talking with the neighbors and her phone died.”

“Maybe.”

But maybe not. You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, and Indie could sense it as you sat on the couch. She slowly tried to inch her way into your lap, as she never really had a good idea of her own large size. You just let her and scratched her ear.

“Listen, honey, I gotta go. But we can make mac-n-cheese for dinner, how’s that sound?”

“Good, dad.” You said, biting your lip. “Okay, see you when you get home.”

Then, you hung up, and you waited for your mom.

[-]

When your dad got home, you went out to search for your mom. On your tour of the neighborhood, you came across others who had broken quarantine and were searching for their loved ones, too. Saying they went for a walk, or to the store and they didn’t come back.

Your dad remained the voice of reason, saying things like well maybe their phone died, or this is all just some big prank we’ll all laugh about later. You stayed silent.

[-]

Saturday was when your dad didn’t come home. His car was nowhere to be found, but you didn’t trust yourself to drive your mom’s car just yet. Or rather, you didn’t want to drive it because you didn’t want to be reminded that it was permanently vacant. You walked all the way to the store an hour after he was supposed to have gotten off. Manager Dan wasn’t there, either-- nobody had seen your dad at all that day; he was a no-call, no-show.

You walked all the way back home.

9:52pm

Me: my dad’s gone now too

10:05pm

Callie: fuck.

Callie: my sister…

10:06pm

Kimi: I still haven’t heard from Sami.

Emily: Yeah, me neither.

10:15pm

Me: we should check in every day with each other

[Callie and Emily liked your message!]

10:32

Me: Kimi?

[-]

It’s Thursday again.

Emily has stopped answering by now, and the frantic search parties that used to pass by your window every now and again have stopped, too. Even Twitter is quiet-- it seems with every passing day, more and more people go silent. As you lay on your bed with Indie at your feet, you keep refreshing your feed on every social media app, but nothing changes-- all of the posts are old. It feels like your world is shrinking while at the same time expanding into a terrifying void.

5:38pm

Me: callie?

Callie: im here.

You breathe a sigh of relief, which turns into a sob into your pillow.

5:39pm

Me: idk how long we’ll have wifi or even electricity.

Callie: my parents are still here. Come to ohio, seriously.

You bite your lip. You think about Sami, and how many times she pried the truth out of you when you were sad, how she was the only one who would sing with you at karaoke, how you promised to move to New York together.

5:39pm

Me: i have to find sami.

Callie: please just come here. We need to stick together.

Me: i’ll find sami and we’ll come to ohio. Then we go to NY to look for em and kimi.

5:45pm

Callie: okay. Please text.

Me: i will. I promise i’ll come to ohio.

You bite your lip, and glance at your phone’s percentage: 43%. You sigh, and put it on the charger while you go downstairs to scrounge for breakfast. You only woke up about two hours ago, though you can’t sleep much, anyways. You think to yourself how your mom would be scolding you for waking up so late.

As you eat the last poptart, Indie lays down on your feet. You toss her a couple crumbs, she eats them gratefully. You sigh, and look at your now empty pantry-- you have to try and go to the grocery store, whether you like it or not. You only have your permit, but you know that you’re a terrible driver. Still, you get up and put on shoes and grab your jacket. You probably don’t have to worry about cops or the law anymore, anyway-- you suspect everything has disappeared.

You look at yourself in the mirror; you didn’t think your outfit for the apocalypse would be sweatpants and a hoodie. With a sigh, you change into jeans and a long sleeve, layer a flannel on top of that, and your favorite jacket on top of that. It’s cold outside-- much colder than you’re used to.

Based on the incredible silence on Facebook, you figure that most of the adults have disappeared. As you drive further and further into town, you notice some obvious signs of looting from once pristine houses: trash littering lawns, doors left wide open. You get the haunting realization that you’re perhaps the only person left in your neighborhood. It’s amazing how quickly things can turn in just a few days.

When you pull up to the grocery store, you notice there’s only one other car there-- a white van, stationed by the curb and still running. You actually pull into a parking spot like some kind of society bootlicker, and cautiously put the car in park and turn off the engine.

You watch the van for a moment, slowly becoming hyper-aware of the very real possibility that you might run into robbers. Your stomach growls, and you take a deep breath. You should’ve brought Indie.

Grocery bags in hand, you exit your soccer mom minivan and lock it. Steeling your nerves, you put one foot in front of the other. As if on cue, two figures hurry out of the store, glancing behind them before they notice you. The automatic doors have long since stopped running, so they just pause in the doorway while you freeze on the curb, the fumes from the van tickling your nose.

They’re both boys holding bags you assume to be filled with groceries: both around your age, one of them has gray and black spiked hair, and eyes as wide and aware as an owl’s. The one next to him has dark, short, almost curly hair, and his gaze is calculating and cold.

You take a small step back, unsure of what to say. They seem just as apprehensive, when the van door slides open forcefully.

“Hey, what are you doing? Get in!” Another boy, this one of a larger build than the two in front of you with jet black spiked hair, snaps angrily.

“Kuroo, we have a situation.” The curly-haired boy says evenly, though he’s tense. His knuckles are white holding his bags.

“Huh?” The one who must be Kuroo says, and cranes his neck to the side to spot you. “Oh, shit.”

“U-um…” You stutter out, and you suddenly feel extremely cornered-- it’s three against one, and what if they want to take your car? What if they have some kind of weird cult and need a girl for breeding? “I’m just gonna get some-- some poptarts and leave.”

“Holy shit!!” The gray haired one seems to have broken out of his stupor, and he rushes over to you, dropping his bags and their contents on the ground in order to grab your shoulders. “Another person! A-a girl!”

“Yes, she’s a girl…” The curly-haired one sighs, puts his bags in the van and begins to gather up the other one’s forgotten groceries.

“First one I’ve seen in a while.” Kuroo grins and hops from the car to stand beside the gray-haired one who still hasn’t let go of you. You don’t have the balls to tell him to get off-- you’re not sure how dangerous these boys are. “How long have you been hiding out?”

“Come with us! We’re at the high school.” The gray-haired one beams-- how could he possibly be smiling?

You don’t know what to say, so you look away. Your voice seems to be caught in your throat, and that’s extremely frustrating-- but you’re not about to cry in front of these guys.

“Quit it, Bokuto.” The curly-haired one is eyeing you carefully, though not as if you’re a threat. He seems to be the only one that can actually sense your discomfort. The one that’s holding you-- Bokuto-- sighs, and lets you go, instead putting his hands on his hips.

“We should at least help her.” He points out, and grins down at you. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“She’s not gonna tell you. Let’s just go home.” Kuroo shrugs, and you cross your arms.

You tell them your name, if only to spite the taller one. He turns with a grin, and it only just occurs to you that perhaps, that was reverse-psychology. You huff, and look away with a little bit of a blush.

“Like I said, I just need to get poptarts and some other things and then I’m going back home.” You mutter.

“We’re wasting gas.” The curly-haired one calls, as he has already sat in the front seat.

“Hold on, Akaashi!” Bokuto calls. “Listen, there aren’t anymore poptarts in there. None whatsoever.”

Your heart breaks a little, but you keep it together.

“There’s, like, rice and stuff, but I think that’s it.” He shrugs, and turns to get into the van. You bite your lip-- might as well ask rather than waste your time wandering around all alone.

“Is there any dog food left?”

“Huh? Dog food?” Bokuto is right back in front of you. He and Kuroo speak at the same time:

“You’re gonna eat dog food?” Bokuto says. “You have a dog?” Kuroo says, and the two boys glare at each other.

“Yeah…” You say, though you still haven’t gotten an answer to your question. “I mean, I have a dog.”

“Yeah, it’s in aisle five.” You hear the one called Akaashi tell you, without even bothering to turn to look at you.

“I know that.” You snap-- your dad used to work in this store, you know it pretty damn well. Akaashi glances back at you then, probably a little surprised by your defensive tone. You huff, annoyed at yourself for being so touchy. These were the first people you met after about three straight weeks in quarantine, and they might be the only people left for miles. You need to play nice.

“My dad works here.” You explain, looking down at your shoes. Kuroo nods, exchanges a glance with Bokuto. “Well, he used to.”

A silence falls over the group-- they know. You all know, now, what it’s like to lose a parent, or any loved one, for that matter. You blink quickly to fight back any tears that might threaten to escape.

“We’re staying at Karasuno High-- it’s the high school near Flat Top.” Kuroo says. “If you want to join us, we’re kind of setting up camp there.”

“There’s more of us!” Bokuto explains. “We’re gonna find some mattresses after this to bring ‘em back so we can all stick together.”

“Oh, cool.” You say half-heartedly, unsure of why exactly they’re inviting you over as if it’s some kind of fun sleepover. “Wait, you guys went to Karasuno?”

“Yeah! You, too?” Bokuto lights up, and you look at the three boys a little closer, though you don’t seem to recognize them.

“Yeah… but I don’t think we were in the same circles.” You finally smile a little, albeit sadly, now that you’re remembering all the things you’ll never be able to return to now that school and society are essentially gone.

“You ever go to any volleyball games?” Kuroo asks, obviously encouraged by your smile. You shake your head.

Akaashi has exited the van by now with a sigh, coming to stand beside his two friends as he takes a look around. “We need to get going. If you want to join us, you know where to find us. But it’s gonna be dark soon.”

That seems to smack some sense into the other two, and they exchange glances with one another. Kuroo nods, Bokuto sighs, and the two get back into the van. Akaashi pauses, and you accidentally lock eyes with him.

His gaze betrays nothing, and you wonder for a moment how he ever became friends with these two. He reaches into the van, and pulls out a familiar blue cardboard box, gives it to you.

You take the poptarts, and glance up at him questioningly-- he puts a finger to his lips with just the hint of a smile. You smile back.

“Listen, it’s great you have a dog-- keep him close. And get home before it gets dark. And…” He glances to the side uneasily. “Get a baseball bat or something.”

A chill goes up your spine at that last part, and you frown, but nod to the boy in front of you anyways. He returns the nod, and gets in the back of the van. You both share a glance at each other one more time, and it feels as if he wants to say something more, but he doesn’t. He just slides the door closed, and Bokuto waves to you out the window.

“Byee! Hopefully we’ll see you later-- hey, where’d you get those poptarts?!” Bokuto’s voice fades away as the van drives off, and you are once again left alone.

[-]

You gather a fair amount of stuff-- rope, for some reason is included in your loot. You always saw people in the movies get rope, so you figure you’ll find some use for it.

There aren’t any baseball bats, but you do find a hammer and a paring knife. It’s small, but better than nothing. You load up on the dog food, and even manage to haul two huge bags of kibble into your car. As you load it up, you can’t shake the feeling of someone watching you. Even though you look around and make certain that you’re the only person present, the feeling doesn’t go away. You sort of wish you’d gone with those boys now.

You aren’t surprised when the street lights don’t turn on, but you take that as your signal to leave. Even though you want to scrounge for more supplies, you don’t want to risk it. Akaashi’s words of warning hang over your head like a humid fog.

As you drive home, you can’t stop chewing on your lip. Even with your headlights on, it’s hard to see, but you don’t want to turn on your brights and draw more attention to yourself. Just get home, lock the doors, and check in with Callie.

You park the car in your backyard because the garage door won’t open-- the power’s finally gone out. You close the backyard gate and lock it as soon as you’re out of the car, but somehow you still feel uneasy.

As you enter your dark home, you softly call out Indie’s name, and you hear her scamper up to you.

“Good girl,” You whisper, and scratch her ear. You decide to leave the larger groceries in the car for now, as you don’t want to go back outside and keep making trips of transferring the supplies into your house. For now, you need to sleep so that you can ignore the hunger in your belly and stretch out your rations just a little further.

Indie guides you up the stairs and into your bedroom as you set your bag down heavily. You come across your phone with dismay, finding that it hasn’t charged at all since you left, and is now at 7%. You bite your lip, and open up the almost abandoned group chat.

9:57pm

Me: callie im gonna come to ohio soon. I think we are gonna lose connection tho. Idk if this will even send, but ill see u in ohio. I love you.

The message doesn’t send. You shudder out a sigh, and you’re grateful when Indie nuzzles into your side.

Your phone finally shuts off, though it’s useless now, anyway. You crawl into your bed and Indie curls up next to you, and you fall into an uneasy sleep.

[-]

“Shh!”

You jolt awake at the hissing sound that’s coming from downstairs. Indie is tense and alert, and she licks your elbow. You sit up, and vaguely note the time: 3:37am.

There’s some shuffling, and you see the beam of what you assume to be a flashlight shakily illuminate the walls downstairs. You didn’t close your bedroom door when you came in, because you assumed that you were alone.

‘Stupid…’ You think to yourself as you grip Indie’s collar. She begins to growl, but you shush her quickly, though she flattens her ears back at you. Letting out a shaky breath, you crawl off of your bed as silently as you can manage, and reach for the hammer and paring knife in your bag.

Indie follows you as you venture into the hallway, and you perch behind the bars of your stairs as the hushed conversation down below becomes clearer.

“Just find whatever food you can and let’s go.” A deep male voice cuts through the silence.

“We need to check the car! There’s nothing here.” A stranger male voice answers, and giggles. “We should find the girl instead.”

You tense, and grip the hammer a little tighter.

“I don’t care about her. I just want her stuff.” The deep voice asserts, and you wonder what you should do next. Storm downstairs and hammer them to death? You’ve never fought anybody before, let alone killed someone. Your hands are becoming clammy, and you don’t notice the pregnant pause in the conversation downstairs.

It isn’t until you see a head of brown hair come into view that you’re snapped from your thoughts. Indie can’t help herself-- she barks, and bolts down the stairs before you can stop her. The two boys yell in surprise, and you watch as she tackles the tall one with brown hair. Meanwhile, the other one comes into view-- he has large, droopy eyes with spiked red hair, and he looks excited when he catches sight of you.

“There she is!” He coos, and begins to walk upstairs. You gasp, and you know in this split second that your home is no longer yours-- you need to get away. In one fluid motion, you run into your room to grab your single bag of groceries. It’s heavy, but you don’t notice as adrenaline rushes through your veins.

When you turn to run down the stairs, the red-head catches you by both of your upper arms. He licks his chapped lips, and your knee jerks out to hit his groin. He yelps and doubles over, and you fly down the stairs.

“Indie!” You whistle, and she actually bounds from the living room over the couch, to skid by your side. You swipe the car keys off the counter, rip the sliding glass door open, and use the fob to unlock the car. You open the passenger for Indie, she leaps in as you toss the bag and your hammer and knife in behind her, you slam the door closed, and hop over the hood of the car.

As you turn to open the driver’s side door, you watch as the red-head runs in slow motion from your stairs to the exit to your backyard. You don’t breathe or shake as you turn the ignition, throw the car in reverse, then drive, and plow through your flimsy backyard gate as you push your little soccer van to its limits.

Tires skid as you swerve onto the street, and you press down so hard on the gas, that a few minutes later, you don’t register that you’re going 90 miles an hour in the suburbs. Houses pass you at incredible speed, and you ease up on the pedal when Indie licks your cheek. You stare straight ahead, and subconsciously, you drive towards your high school. Those three boys were nice to you-- they warned you, and you didn’t listen. They even tried to help you and include you, and you flat out denied them.

You slam on the brakes as you turn into Karasuno High’s parking lot. It’s only now that you realize that you didn’t fasten your seat belt, and you shut off the car with a shaky breath. The front of the school looms over you, and you wonder for a moment if they’re even here-- was it all a joke? What if they turn you away because you were such a bitch earlier? No matter how many scenarios you run through your head, you come to the same conclusion every time: you can’t go back home, and you’re already here, so you may as well investigate. You grab your hammer and get out of the car, and Indie follows behind. You close and lock the doors, pocketing the keys, and turn towards the school you’ve known for three and a half years.

The front gates are locked, of course. You wander the perimeter of the school, Indie trotting beside you the whole way. The school looks different in the dark-- it feels different, too. It’s like you’re walking in a dream, or some sort of in-between space. You shouldn’t be awake, and you definitely shouldn’t be here, but you are. It’s strange. Everything is bathed in moonlight, so it’s all a very specific shade of blue that makes you feel like you’re underwater.

You come upon the gym in the back of the school, and you’re startled to hear voices coming from inside. You tip-toe up to the doors, and Indie sniffs curiously.

“If your leg gets cut off, would it hurt?”

“Please just go to sleep.”

“Duh!” A third voice chimes in, and the second voice groans.

“How, though?” The first voice presses.

“‘Cause your leg got cut off, dumbass.” Third voice answers.

“Where’re you gonna feel the pain?”

“In your leg…” The third voice trails off.

“Exactly, man. How’re you gonna feel the pain in your leg if--”

“--if your leg is gone?!” The first and third voice finish together, and you hear the second person groan.

“I’m going outside.” He says, and as his voice gets louder, you stumble away from the door just as it opens.

You blink rapidly and your jaw drops-- Akaashi stands in front of you, brows furrowed and eyes wide. You can’t believe they’re actually here.

“Akaashi?” Someone calls from inside. Akaashi opens his mouth to respond, but glances at Indie when she sniffs his hand curiously. He pets her absent-mindedly as his gaze wanders back to yours.

Bokuto and Kuroo pop up behind him a second later, and they’re just as surprised as Akaashi. Indie sniffs them in turn, and her tail begins to wag.

You drop your hammer with a thud, and sniffle like a toddler before letting out a sob you didn’t know you’d been holding.

“C-can I stay with you?”

#haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #haikyu fanfiction #akaashi x reader #kuroo x reader #iwaizumi x reader #oikawa x reader #bokuto x reader #reader insert #haikyuu x reader #slow burn

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mimi-cee-hq · 5 years ago

Text

Anonymous Text - Futakuchi x Reader

(I blame @/starlity’s blog for this story because it made me want to write for a Dateko character. 😊 )

Summary:

From Nametsu’s suggestion, Y/n starts taking requests to practise her makeup skills. Futakuchi starts texting her for fun without telling her who he is. But there’s a reason why he wants to stay anonymous.

I have a Futakuchi character summary post if you forgot who he is. I reference some of the scenes in that post for this story so I recommend taking a look at it. I also took a different approach to Futakuchi’s character, but it’s still based on canon events. Also, Nametsu Mai is Dateko’s manager, Koganegawa is their huge baby setter, and Onagawa is the season 4 dude with the big hair they nicknamed Pantalons.

Request from @rynn-lee:

hi, hi!! could i ask for a matchup? 🤓 well, i’m 18 and 5’4. i’m curvy and a bit chubby, and i have straight strawberry blonde hair and hazel eyes (also glasses uwu). my style is something in between 80s and rocker, i always wear black, RED, animal prints, leather… and my makeup has to be always on point lol (i’m studying makeup). about my personalityyy… i’m a very calm and patient person, i think i tend to be kind and very open minded. i can be shy sometimes, but i’m usually outgoing. i also love having fun, and i’m always teasing my friends. i may be a bit sarcastic too… 👀 but i always try to help and do all i can for them my passions are music (mostly hard rock and 80s), art, drawing, reading, cinema… (useless fact: i LOVE jurassic park omg) i also love very very much the beach, i could be there forever. and, although being calm, i have anxiety issues :( i’m a big nerd and i live for memes lmao i hope this works! thank you in advance! ❤️

Anonymous Text - Futakuchi x Reader

Words: 2,245

“You’re right. That looks pretty bad.” laughed Y/n.

“I told you. It looks worse than it actually is though. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

Nametsu continued to explain to Y/n that she had gotten the bruise on her cheek during the boys’ volleyball practice. Futakuchi had accidentally hit her when he turned around while carrying the volleyball pole.

“But seriously, I don’t know what to do with him. Futakuchi is supposed to be the captain, but he’s not exactly the best role model. Some days I feel like Aone would have been the better choice.”

“So is he the guy you have a crush on?”

“Futakuchi?” asked Nametsu. Y/n nodded. "Ew. No. You wouldn’t want to date him. He takes things too lightly. He was always causing trouble for our senpais.“

Y/n was in the same class as Futakuchi, but they had never really talked to each other. She’d hear about him at times from Nametsu, usually complaining about him. But Y/n was the kind of person who’d want to get to know someone herself instead of basing her opinion on what someone else had told her. She wondered if Futakuchi really was as bad as Nametsu had said.

“Okay,” said Y/n as she took a closer look at Nametsu’s bruise. "I might be able to help you out with this.“

It was Y/n’s dream to become a makeup artist, so she had recently went to a makeup camp for high schoolers. One of the things they had learned was to create a bruised look. She had also learned how to cover up bruises. So she was happy to help Nametsu with what she had learned.

“Thanks so much, Y/n,” said Nametsu. “I didn’t want people at school commenting on it all day.”

“It’s no problem,” Y/n smiled.

When she was done, Nametsu was amazed at her work. “It’s like it’s not even there anymore!”

“This is good practice for me too,” Y/n replied with a smile. “I could do this every day for you until your bruise disappears, if you’d like.”

Nametsu’s eyes sparkled, delighted at Y/n’s offer. “I’d love that! You’re the best!” she exclaimed as she hugged her. As Y/n packed up her makeup tool box, Nametsu asked, "Have you ever thought about taking requests? I bet other girls at school would love to have their makeup done by you.“

Y/n thought for a moment. She had never considered it before. "That sounds like it would be fun!” she replied with a grin.

A few weeks later, Nametsu’s bruise healed so Y/n wasn’t as busy with her make-up anymore. It was tiring for her to wake up so early every day, but she’d do anything for her friends. Nametsu helped Y/n create some posters to place around the school with information about this new undertaking of hers. It wasn’t too long before she got some make-up requests. But she also got an interesting one.

Unknown number: You do make-up right?

Y/n: I do. Is there a certain style you want?

Unknown number: Could you make my lips look plump? Extra plump? And really red? Could you also make my eyelashes 10 inches long?

Y/n smirked at the request. It seemed like she attracted a troll. But being the calm and patient person she was, she replied with sarcasm.

Y/n: Sure. I can definitely do that. Red is a nice colour. I’ll need $400 to cover the cost of the 10 inch false eyelashes.

Unknown number: What? They exist?

Y/n: Sorry, I forgot to add “/sarcasm”

“What are you doing?” asked Nametsu in class, noticing Y/n smiling at her phone.

“Just having fun with a troll,” she laughed. When she got another notification on her phone, she saw there was a reply.

Unknown number: I deserved that. How are you doing? Are you getting any requests?

Y/n didn’t expect that those first few texts to be the start of an interesting friendship. The two of them continued to text each other over the next few weeks. It was kind of weird, but also fun. She didn’t learn much about him. She knew he was a guy that went to her school. He had apparently seen the posters which is where he got her number. He told her that he wanted to keep his identity a secret for fun. She didn’t mind.

At first the texts were just silly. He’d share a picture making fun of one of the teachers. She’d share a meme in response. But after a few weeks of texting back and forth, they started sharing more with each other.

That guy: Have you ever dealt with people who say they understood what you said, but it looks like they didn’t understand at all?

Y/n: Lol. Are you having a hard time teaching someone?

That guy: I guess you could say that.

Another day, Y/n decided to share her worries with him as well.

Y/n: I’m starting to get anxious about my next request. The last one didn’t go so well. She didn’t like it.

That guy: What? You worked so hard! Who do I need to hunt down?

Y/n: Ummm… No. Please don’t. It’s not like you’d get away with it.

That guy: Don’t worry. I won’t get caught. I’ve had lots of practice!

Y/n just stared at that last text and laughed. “Who is this guy?”

“Who?” asked Nametsu, who was sitting beside her in class.

“Just ‘that guy’,” she replied.

“You’re still texting him?” asked Nametsu. Y/n nodded with a smirk. “Anyway, how are your make-up requests going?”

“They’re alright. I’m starting to run out of make-up though, so I’ll need to get more supplies.”

Y/n didn’t expect to see her tall and large classmate in front of her the next day. Aone handed her an envelope. When she asked what it was for, he just gestured to the note that was on it.

“This is for the eyelashes. I expect them to look awesome,” said the handwritten note on the envelope.

She read the note with a snicker. When she looked at the other side to open the envelope, there was an additional note.

“Actually, I don’t think they’ll suit me. Just use this to buy other make-up supplies.”

If this envelope contained what she thought, she couldn’t believe how generous he was being to her. He was really starting to spoil her and she couldn’t help but wonder who he was. He had told her that he still wanted stay anonymous. She didn’t know why, but she decided to respect his boundaries if he had a good reason to not reveal himself.

She opened the envelope and stared at the contents before she laughed her head off. “He’s such a dork!” she said, knowing that he likely didn’t mean to do that.

*****

Futakuchi felt his phone vibrate. He smiled when he saw that he got a text from Y/n.

Y/n: So what are your interests and hobbies? Besides texting me of course.

Futakuchi: They’re a secret. :P Are you still trying to find out who I am?

Y/n: Nope, just curious.

Futakuchi: Well, I’m not telling you. But what other things do you like?

Y/n: That’s hardly fair.

She decided to tell him her other interests anyway. She wished that their school didn’t have uniforms. She liked her own style: a mix of 80s and rocker. Futakuchi didn’t know what she meant by 80s style. She didn’t know if Japan had an equivalent style, so he ended up searching pictures for the fashion style during that decade. He laughed when he replied her.

Futakuchi: LOL! Their hair looks like Pantalon’s!

But it wasn’t until her reply that he realized that he let out a slip.

Y/n: Are you on the volleyball team?

Futakuchi panicked. He didn’t want her to know who he was. Now she was one step closer.

*****

A couple of months back, Futakuchi sighed as he walked back to his classroom. He had left his knee pads there the other day, so he had to get them before their morning practice had started. “I should apologize to Nametsu again,” he thought to himself. “I actually feel bad about giving her that bruise.”

When he arrived at the classroom, it was empty except for the one girl who had her head down at her desk. When he took a closer look, he saw that she was actually sleeping. He recalled Nametsu mentioning that Y/n had been helping her with make-up everyday. “She must have gotten here even earlier than us to do Nametsu’s makeup,” he thought.

He sighed, remembering that there was a time when he used to be like that.

In junior high, he had been best friends with a girl he had known for years. They had basically grown up together. He had liked her - a lot. She had decided to try to date him, but she had gotten overwhelmed with how much he would do for her. She had felt bad that she hadn’t been doing as much for him. He had told her that he didn’t care. But it had taken a toll on their relationship.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Kenji. You’re too serious,” she had told him.

It had hurt. So he had decided that he wouldn’t be so serious the next time he dated a girl. But as he looked at Y/n sleeping at her desk, he wondered if it would be different with her. “She works so hard for her friends,” he thought to himself. “Would she be the same for a boyfriend?”

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, until he saw her posters. When he saw her number right in front of him, he decided to text her on a whim. He saw her smile at his ridiculous request. After she gave her sarcastic reply, he knew they’d get along. But as they texted, he didn’t notice that his feelings for Y/n had grown so much to the point where he was worried about her finding out who he was. Since he had given her money for her make-up supplies, he was especially worried that Y/n would feel burdened by it. At least he could still hide behind the anonymous label. Or so he thought.

Y/n: Thanks for the money!

Y/n: BTW, I know who you are now. You’re on the volleyball team.

Futakuchi started to panic. “She knows it’s me?” He started to worry about what her opinion was of him. But then she next text gave him a different dilemma.

Y/n: I’ve been helping you too. :)

He was confused because she hadn’t been helping him with anything. They barely even talked in person. But during their next volleyball practice, he saw that she was a lot closer with Koganegawa.

“Thanks so much for helping me Y/n-senpai!’ said Koganegawa.

"You’re welcome,” she replied with a smile. “I was happy to help.” Koganegawa was moved to tears from how grateful he was and gave her a hug.

Futakuchi found himself stepping between the two of them and pushing them apart. “Futakuchi?” asked Y/n, confused. “What’s wrong?”

For Futakuchi, this whole thing was wrong. She had been helping the wrong person this whole time. He knew he could set it right if he just revealed himself to her. He started to grow frustrated at this situation. He had to decide. Was better to stay behind an unknown phone number and to be mistaken for Koganegawa? Or should he reveal himself to her at the risk of Y/n potentially being put off by him?

Futakuchi told her.

Y/n blinked a few times and had to do a double take. “I think you were supposed to say something else first?”

That was when that he actually confessed to her instead. “I like you.” He wasn’t supposed to say that. But his thoughts were such a mess that he ended up confessing to her instead.

Y/n just giggled at him. “Well, I already knew it was you who was texting me. I was just waiting to see if you’d tell me yourself.”

Futakuchi blushed, not knowing if it was from the embarrassment of accidentally confessing or from how cute her laugh was. “But didn’t you say that you were helping me?” he asked.

“I have been,” she replied. “I’ve been helping Koganegawa with setting practice. Didn’t you say you were having a hard time teaching him?”

Futakuchi couldn’t believe that he had misunderstood the whole thing. Koganegawa started to excitedly ramble about how much his practices with Y/n had helped. She had scolded him every time his sets were too high, knowing that Futakuchi wasn’t good with those ones. He was shocked that she had done all of that for him.

With determination, Futakuchi suddenly grabbed her wrists and told her, “Go out with me.” He stared at her eyes intently, waiting for her answer.

“I think you’re supposed to ask,” she teased.

Futakuchi smirked at her. “Fine,” he complied. “Could you be my girlfriend?”

“Maybe,” she said as she started to walk away. But Futakuchi didn’t let her get away and hugged her from behind. “Okay,” she said with a smirk as she turned around to hug his waist.

“Hold on a moment,” said Futakuchi. “How did you know it was me?”

“Pro tip: use cash instead of a check if you want to stay anonymous.”

*****

Extras

The Dateko volleyball club was very confused at the whole scene because they never saw the two interact before. Nametsu knew they were texting each other but didn’t think they’d like each other.

Nametsu didn’t approve of Futakuchi at first until she saw how serious he was about her.

He offered to take her to any movie she wanted. Y/n just wanted to watch Jurassic Park all the time to the point where he got sick of it.

@rynn-lee was actually a setter, but because she didn’t put it in the request, I was vague about how Y/n helped Koganegawa. 😊

I hope you liked it. This story ended up being so meta with me answering my request with a story about Y/n answering her request. 😅 It was actually unintentional.

Check out my other stories. I have a completed long fic and some other short stories too. 😊

Matchup tag list: @nagichi-deku, @nxlx96 (let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list) And tagging @haikoo because you usually like these stories.

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