#or well at least it becomes embarrassing when its. shippy
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Missed drawing these two too
Bonuses
#rendoc#still thinking about them a lot#always#hermitshipping#sorry for the weird empty area in the first one. It was my attempt to make it take up less of people's timelines#this art is so embarrassing lol but man I like when Doc's drawn as a big goat man I have no defense I plead the fifth#or well at least it becomes embarrassing when its. shippy#whatever Tumblr people are usually cool so here goes!!#I am 99% a fluff and hurt/comfort person. Idc how frisky these guys get in fanon all I can ever think of is fluff sorry#Also contemplated implementing Doc's accent into the dialogue but I am forever paranoid of offending someone lol#idk how to write accents etc but you guys will make it sound fine in your heads I'm sure#hermitblr#tubby art
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Fandom meme: Star Trek DS9 (or another Trek if you'd prefer!)
@portraitofemmy please also accept this as my general Star Trek Opinion offering, because I like many Treks, but this is the one I love.
the first character i ever fell in love with: Okay, bearing in mind that I started watching this show in 1993 and memory is a Strange Beast, I'm going to guess it was probably Sisko. I tend to gauge Treks by the quality of the captain first and foremost, so I was probably more focused on him than on the other characters when I was getting a feel for the show, and I'm definitely sure there was no point at which I wasn't All In On Ben.
a character that i used to love/like, but now do not: I'm in general more likely to soften up toward characters than get over them. I would say possibly Kira Nerys? Not that I dislike her now, especially, but I think at the time I was more excited just by the existence of a female Trek character who wasn't defined by her femininity, and looking back I find her...fine, but less interesting than most of the other characters.
a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not: Yeah, usually ride-or-die on ships, too, but I will say that if you'd told me early on that they'd be doing kind of shippy O'Brien/Bashir by the end of the series, I would have found that pretty exicting, except that when it actually happened, they'd already done a very embarrassing-to-watch Gay Panic, and they managed to use the idea of O'Brien/Bashir in the dumbest, most misogynistic way possible, so the reality of it was a Super Nope With a Side of Yikes.
my ultimate favorite character™: Oh, Garak, for sure. Garak – unless it's Jadzia, but it's probably Garak. But also maybe Jadzia. ...No, Garak. (Jadzia.)
prettiest character: Jadzia Dax. Like, Bashir tries, he really does, and he is a pretty dude. But this one is Jadzia for sure.
my most hated character: I'm a soft touch and I don't usually hate characters (except, like, in the way you're supposed to hate people like Gul Dukat, who are marvelously hateable), but I will say I prooooobably never gave Ezri Dax a fair chance, and I'm kind of not sorry about it and do not plan to revisit that decision.
my OTP: Garak/Bashir. Honestly, Trek is traditionally pretty shitty at romantic arcs, and it's not surprising that the most compelling one they ever wrote was entirely accidental. Bless their hearts.
my NOTP: Ezri/Bashir. A lot is wrong with this pairing, starting with the fact that I Just Don't Like Her, but primarily the fact that while I know she's not Jadzia, she also absolutely is Jadzia, and Bashir's thing for Jadzia was always uncomfortable as hell, and it's weird to reward it in any way. Also I don't like her, and also Julian should've been gay.
favorite episode: God, well, it's probably The Wire, but also it's hard not to pick Trials and Tribbilations or The Visitor, both of which just knock my socks off every time, obviously for completely different reasons. I don't know, I keep thinking of other episodes that completely deserve it, but – The Wire is my heart-of-hearts favorite.
saddest death: Jadzia, right? Who would pick anyone else, I will fight them!
favorite season: Honestly, probaby 6, which is wild because very few shows are not starting to run out of creative steam by season 6. But I love the whole Time to Stand arc, and I love You Are Cordially Invited, and there's so much good Julian stuff, Far Beyond the Stars, In the Pale Moonlight – like, just pound-for-pound, season 6 was so damn good.
least favorite season: I don't think 7 really holds up, but I'm not sure if that's because it's really weak, or just because I never rebounded from Jadzia's death, or because it looks weaker than it is because of its proximity to 6. I just feel like it never came together. Maybe the writing was on the wall about the ending, and the writers had kind of checked out by then? I don't know, there are definitely good episodes, but it feels sloppy.
character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: Again, I wouldn't say hate by any means, but I think I'm not as into Kira as most fans are. I don't love Visitor as an actor, and I think Kira's stories always felt very – external to me, like she's the lens through which we view Bajor and Cardassia and the occupation and all the political issues, but her reactions to that always feel like she's there to give The Bajoran Opinion, you know what I mean? Like, I don't feel like she's so much an individual person with individual story drives, so much as she's emblematic of Bajor, which is fine as a story device, but I think I don't connect with her as a person in quite the way I would've liked to. She's fine.
my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: I mean – Garak, I guess? He's a piece of trash but he's also a fucking hero, and that's my catnip, that's what I look for. It's not like “*but* he's still a fave,” that's why he's my fave.
my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: Nog. Like, objectively, the answer is Nog, right? What a dearheart. But also I think Julian counts; he's not uniquely picked on by the narrative or anything, but he is a true Cinnamon Roll, and he deserves better in, you know, the way that living in a tv show is always low-key a karmic punishment.
my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: I don't believe in guilt, but can I use this moment to plug a fic called A Light In the Mirror by Seraphtrevs, which is on the short list of fanfic I've read that is so compelling it transcends canon and genre and everything else and just becomes like a life-altering reading experience. It's relevant here because I probably should feel incredible guilt about how deeply I wanted MirrorUniverse!Garak and Enslaved!Julian to just, like, work things out, man.... That's bad, that's a wrong impulse, and the story is way too good to indulge my bad impulses, so it's definitely not a romance, but. I don't know, dude. I was into them, and the whole thing is brutal and gorgeous, as are the sequels. I think people should read it even if they aren't Star Trek people, because I think it holds up on its own! Read it, it's so, so bleak but also profound and good and compelling!
my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: I don't know if it counts because it's canon, but I do dig Jadzia/Worf. I'm happy they made it! I would've been, like, fine if they hadn't, but it felt really satisfying that they made this sweet odd-couple Klingon-adjacent romance work.
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Something There
During the fall of their second year at U.A. a trip is taken to a well-known hero training facility called Alderaan. During her time there Momo is paired with the person she least expects and unearths parts of him and herself that she never thought was there before.
Series: Boku No Hero Academia
Pairing: Bakumomo, Bakugou x Yaoyorozu.
Rating: T (canon-divergent)
Word Count: 5,473
A/N: Hello, yes hi. This is my first fic for an anime series so I’m so sorry if the honorifics are off! I tried my best to do the best research I could. Feel free to kindly correct me if you notice anything off about them for next time. I would also like to say that I have another side blog called @bakumomoandco where I will answer any questions, do headcanons, take fic requests and more. The Bakumomo discord should be up this week as well! Thank you if you take the time to read this. It can be taken as shippy or non-shippy, but I hope you like it! :D p.s. sorry for any mistakes I tried to catch them all.p.s.s. If you catch a certain Disney reference, it is intentional. Lol.
Momo had always been a slow walker. It was something her mother constantly criticized saying that she needed to pick up her pace and keep focused. She couldn’t help it though, her mind would wander and before she knew it she was trailing behind everyone else. It was never intentional, but it had become sort of a favorite pastime to trail behind her class. She liked to hear everyone chatter, study how they moved, or maybe even how they acted when they thought no one was looking. She used the excuse of Iida leading the class in front and so as his second she would trail behind to make sure everyone kept in line. So, maybe it wasn’t something her mother particularly liked, but it did help her focus. It gave her the sharpened eyes she used today to analyze a situation.
Aizawa-sensei said that they were going to a legendary gym called Alderaan. It was a fancy gym that even still some of the best pros trained at. It was in a secluded location and it had been rumored that U.A. students sometimes got to visit-- but no one had ever known for sure. It was quite the workout since you had to hike to get there, but they weren’t surprised at this rate. This was still much easier than when they had to find their way to camp last summer. However, they weren’t allowed to use their quirks, they just had to walk. Momo didn’t mind, she liked the quiet and she was sure their training would be quite challenging-- so it was probably best not to waste their energy now.
Her thoughts came to a crashing halt when a shoulder collided with hers. “Move, Ponytail” the blond huffed, nudging her sideways with his shoulder again. Momo felt the blood rush to her cheeks as she realized she was about to hit an electrical pole and he had stopped her.
How humiliating she thought, her hands coming to her face in embarrassment.
“Thank you, Bakugou-san,” her tone sincere, but filled with surprise at the same time. She didn’t think anyone noticed her back there, nor did she ever look behind her. Was he always there? So much for being observant.
He only shrugged keeping his hands tucked away in his pockets.
“Yao-momo!” Ashido chimed as she turned with a big grin on her face. “Hurry! We’re nearly there.” Jirou waved her over as well and Momo turned back to the blond who was now looking elsewhere. She picked up her pace to a quick jog; the cool fall air against her cheeks as she caught up with them.
In her sight line was a view of white buildings, some circular, some tall and skinny, while others were wide. The architecture had pristinely carved patterns along each one as if it were crafted by angels.They were all taken back by this sight. The air crisp from the high altitude, but it wasn’t the reason they were all stood there breathless. It was a dream for them to be there and maybe it was just her imagination but it seemed as if the buildings were glowing.
They were directed to the dorms they would be staying in for the week. Class B would be sharing with them which would be interesting. They didn’t spend too much with their other classmates, but Momo had made friends with Kendou and the other girls seemed nice-- so dorming should go over well. The class reps were in charge of assigning everyone a partner for the week. Aizawa-sensei said it was a good judge of leadership to see if they could pair people up with those suited for them.
“Of course, a test!” Iida spoke his hands pointed straight and stiff. “Leave it to U.A. to test our judgment as class presidents to see how well we know our fellow classmates. I will value your input greatly,” he spoke to Momo, Kendou and the other class B rep.
“This is not just about who you get along with. Conflict can be a good thing. Remember your exams and how some were paired up for more than quirks that compliment each other. People are more than their quirks. My one rule is that you cannot pick for yourself. Trust your fellow classmates. You have one hour, that is all.” Aizawa said swiftly turning away from them.
“Yes, sir!” the four replied as he exited shutting the door behind him.
How were they supposed to make these kinds of decisions?! Momo had analyzed her classmates sure, but it wasn’t like she had in depth notes. That was more Midoriya’s thing. Were they allowed to ask him for his notes? No, they could do this. Couldn’t they? She sure hoped so. The last thing she wanted to do was steer things in the wrong direction.
“Yaoyorozu-san, are you alright? You seem tense.” Iida stated. “Ah I see, you’re worried. No need! I have full faith in our ability to live up to this task!” His expression never once faltering from its serious state.
Kendou gave her an encouraging smile, “Yeah, we’ve totally got this. What do you think we should do first?” she asked.
“Maybe make a list of everyone’s quirks and then think about their personalities?” Momo suggested. An hour just didn’t seem like enough time to make this decision. This was a week with this person and one wrong choice could result in someone not getting the full benefit of this trip. That was a lot of pressure-- these were decisions teachers normally made for them. But she supposed that was the point.
“That’s a great idea!” Iida spoke and began writing. He quickly jotted down the quirks of everyone in their class and slid the paper to Kendou to write down everyone in her class. At the very least it was a starting point.
“And I don’t think we should pair anyone together who was already paired together for final exams,” Kendou added as she slid the paper back to Iida.
“Ah, yes, very perceptive! They would probably be disappointed if we reselected their former picks. We should get to work. We have fifty minutes left.” Iida stated as he looked over the list before him.
The hour passed by a lot quicker than they thought it would. They had agreed to pair each other first and then leave it a surprise until the end. From the four names crossed off she knew who her potential partners could be, but she didn’t expect what she read on the paper. She scanned over it one more time to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.
Class 1-A and 1-B Partners List:
Denki Kaminari and Kyoka Jirou
Eijiro Kirishima and Izuku Midoriya
Fumikage Tokoyami and Shouto Todoroki
Hanta Sero and Yosetsu Awase
Katsuki Bakugo and Momo Yaoyorozu
Koji Kouda and Pony Tsunotori
Mashirao Ojirou and Ibara Shiozaki
Mezo Shouji and Neriengeki Shouda
Mina Ashido and Tsuyu Asui
Minoru Mineta and Manga Fukidashi
Rikido Satou and Kinoko Komori
Tenya Iida and Ochako Uraraka
Toru Hagakure and Hiryu Rin
Yuga Aoyama and Jurota Shishida
Itsuka Kendou and Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu
Monoma Neito and Juzo Honenuki
Kojiro Bondo and Kosei Tsuburaba
Reiko Yanagi and Sen Kaibara
Setsuna Tokage and Shihai Kuroiro
Togaru Kamakiri and Yui Kodai
Nope. She had not read it wrong at all. Although she supposed it could be much worse. It could be Mineta she was paired with. She shuddered at the thought. She knew that she was supposed to trust them, but she was curious as to why they would pair them together. However, she didn’t get a chance to even bring it up.
“Time’s up, hand me the list.” their Sensei spoke. His expression stayed straight aside from the smallest curve of his lip. But if you were to blink you would completely miss it. “Get to the common area with the others. You have a big day tomorrow.” He cleared his throat, “Spend tonight setting a good example for your classmates. There will be festivities for some reason,” he shrugged. “Use that time to bond with your partner.”
“Yes, sir!”
The fire crackled as students sat around it attempting to stay warm. Momo had created scarves for everyone to help. She had one left that she had yet to deliver to her partner. He wasn’t usually so receiving or even social for that matter. He was sitting off to the side by himself and he didn’t exactly look thrilled to be there. Momo wondered if that was an act. Couldn’t he simply have just gone to bed by now?
“It’s getting late! I know I cannot speak for class1-B! But we should all turn in by 10:30 class 1-A! So we can assure proper rest and be good partners tomorrow.” Iida announced into a megaphone that echoed loudly.
“Where did he get a megaphone?” Jirou griped rubbing her ears. They were sensitive to sound and it didn’t help that Iida had been standing right near them. “Cut it with that,” she sniped at him.
“Oh, my apologies!” he yelled into the megaphone. He quickly released it realizing he had done it again.
“He puts my teeth on edge,” Jirou grumbled.
“More than Kaminari?” Ashido teased, nudging her gently. “No,” she shot back quickly. “That’s different, he’s entertaining because he’s so stupid.” she snickered.
“Uh huh,” A coy smile on the pink girl’s lips.
“What is that look for?” Jirou asked eyes narrowed.
“Nothin’- I just think it’s cute.” she giggled. “Don’t you think so, Yao-momo?”
“Wha?” she asked being pulled from her thoughts once more.
“It is not cute. He’s gross,” Jirou grumbled standing up. “I’m going to bed. Are you coming?” she asked Momo.
Iida was right, it would be wise to get rest, but she also had yet to approach Bakugou. She held the scarf in her hands bunching the material between her fingers. “I’ll be up soon,” she spoke softly as she stood.
She could only hope this conversation would go well. It wasn’t like he was known for being a conversationalist of any sort. The only person who could seem to talk to him was Kirishima. Should she stop to ask him for tips? It only made sense to learn about him as much as possible. Similar to her quirk it would help if she had prior information. She scanned the crowd for them but found him laughing with Midoriya and some others. Maybe she shouldn’t bother him with her questions. She could figure it out for herself.
His back was turned as he sat on a log overlooking the view.
“Bakugou-san?” she cleared her throat.
He turned toward her. A pause.
“What do you fucking want, Ponytail?” he asked.
So vulgar.
Momo cringed at such harsh language and held out the scarf to him. Her cheeks were bright red and hands were now trembling. Why was she trembling? It wasn’t like she was afraid of him. She had called him out in their first battle at school. And she knew him long enough to know his bark was much worse than his bite.
She supposed it was just her nerves of talking to him one on one, but even looking at him now-- he wasn’t scary. He was difficult sure, but not scary.
“Why are you giving me this?” he asked, voice gruff. “I’m not fucking cold.”
“But your hands,” she trailed now noticing that his were trembling too.
“I’m fucking fine!” he growled but grabbed the scarf from her anyway. “See you tomorrow, Ponytail. Don’t be late.”
“I would never be late!” Momo gasped, offended. Her hand colliding with her chest in shock.
Bakugou just smirked as he walked away from her. Maybe being paired with her wouldn’t be the worst thing that ever happened to him. At the very least he could mess with her a little and she wouldn’t slack off on any of their work. Yeah, he could work with her.
It was late afternoon the next day when they were told they were dismissed. It had been an extremely challenging day. They had to work an obstacle course, had to trust their partner to guide them through a maze blindfolded-- Bakugou blew up three of them. He was lucky Yaoyorozu could recreate them or they could have failed. By the third one, she had scolded him and said he needed to put some type of faith in her.
Her mind was still replaying the moment-- he had never said something so honest in front of her before. Maybe these exercises were put together to push them in more ways than one.
“I hate not having control, alright? It’s fucking terrifying. I need to see where I’m going, what target I’m aiming at-- I don’t do teams.”
And Momo understood that completely, before U.A. she hadn’t met anyone as skilled as herself, at least not anyone her age. She expected to, of course, she wasn’t naive, but it still could wear on a person's confidence. Even someone who seemed indestructible like Bakugou. He was just as terrified as the rest of them so much so that he isolated himself to keep a laser focus. Part of her always suspected this was why, but it was nice to gain confirmation from him.
“Well, for this exercise, I’m your eyes. So let me do my job.”
“Whatever.” He mumbled clearly regretting being so vulnerable.
She handed him a bottle of water as they sat there together trying to catch their breath. “Here, you should probably hydrate.”
He smirked, looking away from her to hold back a chuckle. It wasn’t really like him to hold back laughter when it came at the expense of someone else.
“What?” she asked him growing self-conscious in the process.
“You’re like a fucking, mom.”
Momo was taken back by this. She just liked to be prepared and water was essential to helping them stay on top of their game. How did that make her like a mother? She cared about their well being and wanted to do well? Didn’t he also want to do well?
“Perhaps I’m just very prepared.”
“Like a mom.” He reiterated and she furrowed her eyebrows.
“Does that upset you?” he asked her.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Wha?” she asked him, eyes wide.
“Something should fucking upset you-- you’re too agreeable.”
And then he left her standing there again, dumbfounded. Why did he keep doing that?! And did he have to swear so much? He was so-- well he was so uncouth.
The rest of the week went by quickly. Each day provided new challenges and sometimes they would have to work with not only their partner but other teams. Each night they went to bed exhausted, dragging their half dead bodies into the comfort of their temporary beds.
She could even say that she understood why Midoriya admired him so much. No one was unaware that Bakugou was powerful or talented, but there was much more to him than that. He had come quite a long way from that guy she analyzed in their first test. He listened more, he never made her feel weak, and eventually, he seemed to rely on her too.
It was like they were an actual team and when Momo was working with him she felt a boost to her own confidence. It made her feel like anything that he could do she was somehow capable of doing it too. And strangely enough, when she hesitated he didn't yell at her. His voice could get gruff, but that was just how he spoke.
“Keep going, Ponytail. Try. again.”
“Stop thinking about it-- trust your damn gut.”
And yes, maybe he pushed her buttons too, but she caught on quickly that it was just because he liked seeing her get flustered. Which frankly was quite rude.
Now that the week was over she was almost saddened. She was sure that they would go back to their friend circles slightly intermingling but no longer speaking like before. Maybe Momo could keep her olive branch extended by offering for him to eat lunch with them sometime? No, he probably would just laugh at that ‘I don’t want to eat lunch with your shitty friends.’ And then she would be taken back by how vulgar he was and remind him those are his classmates. But he wouldn’t care.
“Since you’ve all done so well, surprisingly so-” Aizawa-sensei began.
“Aw, come on, Aizawa-kun give them more credit. They’ve worked hard!” All Might interrupted him. “Because of that, we have decided you can have this last day off to rest! Or train in the gym if you like, but these are your leisure hours! We leave first thing in the morning tomorrow.”
It was rare for U.A. to ever cut them a break like this, but most of them could hardly move-- so maybe recovery was necessary for today. Momo knew exactly what it was she wanted to do after she got in a workout of course. She wouldn’t completely slack off-- her studies were too important to her.
Two hours later Momo had her bag around her shoulder and began her small trek to a place of relaxation. They had stumbled upon an area with a quiet spring during one of their training exercises and she wanted to return there for the day. The fresh air was nice, the sun shining brightly making it a nice temperature for a fall day. The trees were shaded with different colored leaves and some already crunching under her feet as she walked.
As it came into a view she couldn’t help the big smile that came over her face. It was a breathtaking sight. The water cascaded off the rocks and into the cool blue water. A few of the autumn leaves had blown in almost like drops of vibrant red, yellow, and orange paint swirling around. She found a spot under a shady tree placing her blanket down and getting comfortable. She reached into her bag pulling out a few snacks and a stack of books. She had some fresh blueberries, peeled orange slices, and walnuts to enjoy.
Their training had been so vigorous that Momo was too exhausted to read at night like she usually did. And she had earned it since she still trained today, right? Right. Maybe she should have stayed two extra hours. Three hours of training probably would have been better than the hour and a half she did today. Maybe she should go back or she could get more hours in this evening. Yes, that would work.
“I could smell your brain frying from a mile back,” a now very familiar gruff voice spoke. “What are you over thinking now?” he asked.
“Bakugou-san?” her eyes wide.
“Nothing,” she blushed cracking open her book and attempting to read. He only smirked which slightly infuriated her. Why was he always smirking at her like that?! She didn’t see what was amusing. She was almost tempted to ask what he was doing here but decided against it.
He sat down next to her and an audible gasp escaped her as she peered over the top of her book. He turned to look at her and she quickly buried her face back into the pages. She reached for the container of her fruit holding it up to offer him some.
Bakugou had spent the better half of the morning working out and figured he might get in a few more hours later. Kirishima had tried to talk him into hanging out with everyone else-- and he almost considered it. Maybe if Ponytail girl was there he could annoy her or something-- hang out with Hair For Brains for a while. It could be worse.
Eventually, he decided that none of that was worth it. Solitude would be a much better use of his time. Everyone was so damn loud all the time and got on his nerves. He could just sit for a while by that dumb spring Yaoyorozu Ponytail found so interesting when they discovered it on Wednesday.
He hadn’t been expecting her to actually be there. He thought for sure they would have all roped her into hanging out with them. But, at least she was a classmates company he could tolerate. Maybe even more than Kirishima because she didn’t bother him as much. He liked that if he wanted to sit in silence she didn’t really feel the need to say too much. What was the point in opening your mouth if you didn’t have anything to fucking say?
He surprised himself by sitting right beside her, but she was sitting under the shadiest tree. Maybe he enjoyed her company more than he would ever admit. As she held up her fruit container there was a part of him that wanted to flip it out of her hands for being so nice to him. Why the fuck was she so nice? She didn’t need to share her food with him and why didn’t she yell at him for invading her space?
“I don’t want any.”
“You mean, no thank you, Yaoyorozu-chan,” she corrected, “Or Yao-Momo.”
“Hey, I didn’t swear doesn’t that fucking count?” he asked balling up his fists. He was playing right into her trap. He could see the smirk rising up on her lips and he was almost proud? “Hey! Don’t you fucking smirk at me, Ponytail! I’ll fucking kill you right here.” His eyes were glowing and he could feel the small explosions firing off in his hands.
“No you won’t,” she stated simply. “You’re all talk Bakugou-san. I’ve got you figured out, you can’t hide from me.” She brought the book back to her attention, popping a blueberry into her mouth and he was furious. His blood boiled and his breathing grew heavier because she was fucking right. He blamed Kirishima for making him weak and more sociable. He blamed her for being too damn nice and himself for growing used to her kindness.
He stood towering over her now. His eyes bright red, though Momo was secretly nervous she didn’t show it. In one swift motion, he picked her up, tossing her book over to the wayside. “Put me down!” she yelled hitting his back. He didn’t care though.
“DIE!” he screeched as he tossed her into the spring before him. That would show her that he wasn’t all fucking talk. He stood at the edge on a rock watching as she swam up to the surface with his signature grin present on his lips. That would teach her to ever see him as anything less than a man of his word. He was not weak.
Momo was shocked the moment she hit the water, it was cold, but not as freezing as she would have expected. She was quick to rise to the surface and she was torn between crying and killing him. “Bakugou-san!” she jumped up grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him in with her.
Normally she never would have done something like this, but she was angry. Here she was just trying to enjoy her day off and he had to come spoil it by throwing her in the spring. She held him under the water for a few seconds, surprised she was even able to do so. He wiggled out of her grip coming up from the water with a gasp.
But he was laughing? That was almost more terrifying than an angry Bakugou. It wasn’t a smirk or even a chuckle-- he was actually laughing. Momo’s face grew red as she looked around to see what he could be finding so funny. “What are you laughing at?!” she asked him, panic present in her voice.
“You make a great face when you’re pissed off. Your nose scrunches up and your eyes get fire in em’. It’s a good look on you.” he snorted climbing out of the water. He extended his hand back towards her. She expected him to pull some dirty trick like trying to push her back in and she would have clung on to take him back down with her-- but he didn’t.
“It’s fucking cold, neither of us needs to get sick.” He grabbed the blanket off the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders without even thinking twice about it.
Momo’s eyes were wide with concern. Had the spring water cleansed the monster out of him or something? She had read something before about water having healing properties--or maybe this spring was somehow magical. Perhaps this was actually just what Bakugou was like under all of the armor he wore. No one could ever really figure out why Midoriya and Kirishima thought so highly of him. It was true that he was skilled and everyone in the class respected that-- but not many actually liked him. It could be that she was catching a glimpse of the hero that lived within.
She didn’t mention his kindness, instead she just quietly thanked him. She turned away opening up her shirt under the blanket and made him a towel. She caught the red in his face as she turned back around and refrained from laughing. “Fucking exhibitionist,” he muttered as he took the towel. Her face went red now, but with irritation. “I’m not! I was just making you a towel so you could keep-” she watched the grin and narrowed her eyes at him. Damn him, he got her again.
He laughed and without thinking about it she shoulder checked him. Her face went blank and her hand came up to cover her mouth. “Bakugou-san, I apologize. I didn’t mean-.” She could feel her cheeks were pink and her head was hanging in shame. That was not an appropriate way to react.
“You don’t need to fucking apologize, Ponytail. I told you, you’re too agreeable.”
They didn’t see each other much the rest of the day. Just glances of one another and every time he would nod his head up towards her. She didn’t exactly know what that meant. Was he saying hello? She understood the gesture-- but what did it mean when it came from someone like him? She supposed it didn’t matter now.
They began their trek back to the bus early that morning as promised. Most of the class seemed to hardly be awake and it was certainly colder in the morning. Cold enough that they could see their breath. It was strange how quickly the weather had changed. Yesterday it was sunny and today was more of a traditional fall day with the gloomy weather.
Eventually, Momo found herself drifting to the back like she normally did. Her mind was consumed with different thoughts as she played over the past week. She never in a million year would have thought that she and Bakugou would make a good team. Nor would she ever think that they could get along personally.
She felt someone nudge into her shoulder and looked to see it was him. “Good morning, Bakugou-san.” she smiled. He rolled his eyes at her, but they kept at the same pace as they walked together. They didn’t say very much, just a jab here or there-- but it seemed they both liked the company as they trailed behind their class.
When they loaded the bus for whatever reason Bakugou sat in the seat next to her.
“Ah, good idea!” Iida chimed in noticing this. “We should all sit with our pairings if they are on this bus with us!” his hand gestured swiftly. “That way we can review how our weeks went!”
“I don’t care what you do. Just let me nap,” Aizawa-sensei spoke.
The ride back to the school was long and Momo pulled her book out of her bag once more as she read. Bakugou had his eyes closed and every once in awhile he would glance over to see what she was reading. There was idle chit-chat on the bus and no one put much thought into them sitting together because of Iida. Not that Momo would have minded if they had, he sat next to her and she wasn’t going to be rude and say he couldn’t sit there. Besides, whether he liked it or not she considered him a friend.
“What are you reading?” a half sleepy Bakugou asked her.
She was caught off guard by this question, her cheeks a little red. Her mother only wanted her reading books that were educational, but sometimes she would sneak fiction. She found it fascinating and educational in its own way. Maybe it didn’t help her with her quirk, but it gave her a better insight into the world of imagination and art.
“The Boyfriend List, it’s kind of a romance, but real life novel. The girl is our age.”
“I bet it’s fucking stupid,” he chuckled and Momo kept a hard glare locked on him. He sat up straighter as he looked at her. “Tell me about it,” he shrugged. She wondered why he cared, but no one could ever stop her from talking about her beloved books--especially if they asked.
She explained to him in full detail how this book was about an American girl named Ruby who suffers from panic attacks. Her whole life gets turned upside down after losing her boyfriend and all of her friends. Bakugou does his best not to laugh, but he can’t help it. This book sounds stupid as hell to him, but even he has to admit that he likes to see her passion and her glaring looks when he makes a face. He even asked her to read to him and he has no idea why he does this, but she doesn’t even hesitate. It made the time go by quicker on this dreaded bus ride and he even forgot about the cold for a while. Especially when she was glaring at him for his snide remarks.
He didn’t even notice that he had gotten so relaxed that his coat fell open-- just enough to reveal what was tucked away underneath. He was wearing the scarf she had made. He caught the smile on her lips as she noticed it and glared at her. “It’s fucking cold, alright? Don’t make a big deal about it.” he huffed pulling his coat tighter around him. Now it was Bakugou with the blush painted across his cheeks.
Momo looked at him sincerely and this made his blood run cold. He hadn’t met anyone in his life nearly as sincere or as good natured as her. He even valued when she was brutally honest because it came from a genuine place. “I wasn’t going to.” A smirk appeared on her lips and he knew he thought too fucking soon. “But, I’m glad you like it,” she grinned reaching over to pinch his cheek.
“Yao-Momo, I’m going to fucking kill you!” he screeched his hands balling into fists. Not only was everyone shocked, but Momo herself looked at him like she had seen a ghost.
“D-Di-Did you just call me Yao-Momo?” she asked not able to wipe the shock off of her face.
“You fucking said I could. Do you have a problem with it?” he grumbled not liking that the bus was suddenly very quiet and that everyone was watching them.
“No, I just think it’s shocking that you did. It looks good on you to be respectful,” she teased.
Little explosions were going off in his hands now as he grit his teeth. His face was as red as Kirishima’s hair and Momo couldn’t help but burst into laughter. It was the first time his swearing hadn’t caught her completely off guard-- maybe she even welcomed it. For comedic purposes only.
“What’s up with those two?” Ashido asked Deku and Kirishima who were sitting behind them. Tsuyu watched them as well, “Ribbit just seems like Bakugou being Bakugou to me.”
“No, Ashido-san is right,” Midoriya spoke shaking his head. “There is something different that wasn’t there before.Kacchan’s being kind of nice to her--in his own way.”
Kirishima draped an arm over the back of the seat as he turned to look at the two. Bakugou was bright red, but they were both laughing now. It was the weirdest thing he had ever seen. He had only seen Bakugou get like that a few times and never publicly. It was almost like they weren’t even on the bus with the rest of them. “Midoriya-san is right. There may be something that wasn’t there before.” He paused as the four of them just quietly observed the pair. “It’s like they’re actually friends.”
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Hello! For the prompts could I please have Olivier and Miles /shippy/ no.8 ''You're seriously like a man-child'? Thank you!
My dear! Finally!
I’m so sorry for the long wait, but this one, urgh, it wanted to change course three 3! times! And not only a bit, no, it wanted to be radically different, always prompting me to start it over :D
But at the same time it was really fun to write, especially when it finally decided what it wanted to be^^
Soooo, I really hope that you like it and it is what you hoped it would be :D
And sorry again for the long wait!
“Why are you looking like that?”
She was smiling at him, blonde hair in aloose braid, weekender slung over her shoulder and wrapped canvas in hand. Anold picture of her dancing with her father, she couldn’t be older than six,repainted in vibrant colours. Oil on linen, sixty coffees and two temper tantrums.He smirked.
“I honestly thought someone would open thedoor for us!”
Soft laughter, like bells in the distance.Led him inside without hesitation, the mansion not only big from the outside,but from the inside also. Bustling with people, running from place to place,carrying an array of normal and rather weird things. They went unnoticed, untila shout had almost all people stop at once.
“Oh, you’re finally here!”
Cleaving through the throng of people, allof them quickly moving again, was a woman walking towards them.
Tall, blonde hair also put up loosely,wearing a pair of loose cloth-pants and a fitted blouse. There was nojewellery, only little make-up and a big smile on the woman’s face. It matchedOlivier’s, as did the eyes and even though he didn’t need these details tounderstand that this was the head of the house, the confirmation through thewomen hugging each other tightly helped.
“I’m so glad you could make it my dear,with the hold-up and all of that! I missed you terribly!”
He watched, a little bit nervous, but alsoquite touched. It was not often that Olivier returned affections of people, notlike this. And that she seemed to have missed her mother was clear, hugging hertightly back, small quiet words exchanged between them, making him almost feellike an intruder.
Suddenly, he was in on the fray.
“And this is Miles!”
It had his cheeks redden a little, when sheintroduced him with the proud tone. Saw her mother’s eyes raking up and downonce, quickly, before smiling at him, extending her hand. Took it, bowing alittle, lips ghosting over its back.
A giggle.
“My, you’ve been brought up well, weren’tyou? Augustina Philippa Armstrong, but I guess you know that, huh?”
He was a bit struck, but regained his witsagain fast. Worked with this woman’s daughter for too many years, to be put outby the displayed natural authority. Reminding himself to stand straight, hesmiled.
“Nice to meet you Mrs. Armstrong. Ifthere’s anything I can be of assistance with, do not hesitate to ask.”
Another giggle, though not in demeaningmanner. Eyes turning to her daughter, almost a look of disbelieve in her eyes.
“Now this is certainly a step up from whatI usually hear about!”
“Mother!”
“Oh what?! He’s chivalrous! You don’t findthat often!”
“Mother!”
“And he’s charming! Not that you ever hadbad taste, you’re coming after me in that regard, but I remember thatClaudio…”
“Mother!”
The increasingly embarrassed look onOlivier’s face was worth the trip alone in his opinion.
Her mother riled her up, quickly, though hethought the woman’s talk to be rather endearing. Seemed to do it on purposetoo, good at coaxing her daughter out of her icy shell.
Turning on him quickly, apparently tryingto test him, too.
“So dear, while I appreciate your offer,there’s nothing left for you to do I guess. But you two must be awfully tiredafter the hold-up with the train and we want you to be fit for tonight. So howabout you get your things to your rooms and relax a little?”
She waved lazily, a middle-aged manappearing at her side seemingly out of nowhere.
“Galahad, if you’d be so kind to show thetwo to their room?”
He heard a snort to his right and saw thestern-faced man flash a smile for a split second.
“Mother, I know where my own room is!”
Another giggle.
“Well, your gentleman here could go ahead.I guess the big thing is your gift? We’ll get it settled in the ballroom. Comeon!”
Her mother turned brusquely, dragging herdaughter behind with a hand firmly wrapped around her wrist. Olivier only ableto wave at him and mouth an “until later”!
He followed the man called Galahad, ofcourse introducing himself first.
Still a bitstruck.
“Wasn’t that your adjutant a few yearsback?”
Stayed cool at that question, simplybecause she’d been asked it a hundred times over.
“He was indeed, but he transferred under adifferent command a few years back, helping with the restoration of Ishval.Took us some time to figure things out.”
Three years in fact.
She visited Ishval once a year, he the Forttwice after the railway-construction was completed. And each visit hadboundaries slipping, chipped some of the ice away. Hadn’t known what to make ofit, when he’d told her that he’d never come back to be her adjutant. Neitherwhen he’d told her that he’d like to be at her side in any way she desired. Hadoffered him only silence for a few minutes after these statements, untilfinally catching on. Faintly remembered Scars yell of triumph in the backgroundof the memory.
And now they were one, however far apart,steadfast as the mountains of Briggs. He came up when he could, she down whenshe could. Grumman had made peace possible, she soon becoming the main liaisonfor any Drachman contact. Miles was a solid part of the Ishvalan government bodytoo by now, especially as Mustang had moved back to Central after three years.Talk of a soon coming presidential election ringing in her ears constantly now,plenty of people testing the waters with her, curious if she was interested.
She’d not lied when she’d said that theseat was too exposed for her liking.
“And how long have you figured those“things” out by now?”
Knew that her mother was curious, that shewas secretive. Glad that there was no bad blood because of that, onlyunderstanding. She’d heard of Miles, but only met him today, was of courseinterested in her wellbeing. His too, if he treated her right.
“About a year and a half now I guess, thoughI have to admit it feels longer.”
The canvas found a place on the already setgift-table. Everything would be put there, though not opened publicly. It wouldbe done only with the family around, probably tomorrow and as she’d be there,she’d not attached a name-tag. He’d identify her style immediately anyways.
“I guess you knew a lot about the other,working so closely before?”
Half-expected to see wiggling eyebrows whenturning, but being met with her mother’s rarely shown serious-face when inprivate.
“Looking back on it, I think I’ve beenblind.”
Almost a tad too honest for her, but hermother had never been one to accept lying.
“So, it’s serious.”
“Quiet.”
“How serious?”
“I wanted to ask dad for grandma’s rings.”
Her mother gasped.
The Grandmother Jedda, her father’s mother,had been a strict woman. Adamant, often called a devil by many. She called herspiritual successor as a kid. You were buried with your wedding rings as anArmstrong. They’d not be kept, nor given away. It was tradition instead, thatthe grandparents picked out rings, fitting the characters of theirgrandchildren, for them to use later on.
Rose gold and a single white pearl.
She was engulfed in a fierce hug.
“Oh, gods Olivier, I’m so happy for you!”
And she hugged her mother back,unbelievably happy too. Would never have thought to come so far, to feel sostrongly and yet here she was. Bringing Miles into the dangerous waters of herfamily, of the social pitfalls of her father’s sixtieth birthday celebration.
Not doubting that he would prevail as theydid.
Her mother, always a bit taller than her,took her face in her hands and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.
“Does he know yet?”
She laughed.
“I hope not.Wanted to have him cornered when I ask.”
“I’ve seen you before, are you the newusher? What were you doing in these rooms?”
On his way up, he’d met all of her sistersin quick succession, all of them eyeing him, yet all of them friendly. Tellinghim how they were looking forward to getting to know him, happy that he’d staythe next few days. Him returning those words.
Knew Amue to be a rather important localpolitician in Central, Strongine a modiste. Catherine still living at home,though no official occupation known to the wide public, but remembering thatOlivier had said something about alchemy and to never startle her.
But her father, and there was no doubtingthat this was him, he hadn’t met yet.
Had hoped that she’d be by his side whenthat happened.
“Speak up boy, or a you a dirty-handedlittle thief? What were you doing inside my daughter’s rooms?”
There was little chance to get a wordin-between the man’s accusations. His wits were slow, the train-ride and thelong hold-up due to a collapsed tunnel taking its toll. They’d both not sleptwell, were rather dirty, needed a change of clothes and at least he thought tohimself that he smelled awfully of sweat. He wanted to shower and he wanted anap.
Most of all, he wanted Olivier by his sideright now.
“Probably brought in the luggage, father!”
He’d have hugged and kissed her, if heweren’t so certain that it would worsen the situation.
“So, you brought your own servant withyou?”
“Boyfriend it is.”
For a second he saw the man’s angerdeflate, just to have it blow up again at her words. Eyes ghosting over himagain, taking in his skin, the stubble on his chin, the wrinkles in hisclothes.
And then he scoffed.
“This guy?! A dirty-handed, unkept leech?He looks like he wants your money!”
He coughed, tried to get their attention,but that seemed almost impossible. While he was the subject of the ensuingfight, he had little part aside from that in it.
“This is Colonel Miles of the AmestrianMilitary father, treat him with respect!”
“I don’t care who he is! He’s here with youand you’re an Armstrong!”
“What is that supposed to mean?!”
“That you don’t just pick someone from afilthy street-corner and expect him not to know that you’re a really goodcatch!”
He tried to butt in, said sentencescompletely going unheard.
“So, I come here, to introduce him to youproperly and you get hung up on what exactly?”
“You know what they say!”
“Enlighten me!”
And then Miles witnessed a bit of sensereturning to the furious man. Saw him stumble over words, knowing that what hewanted to say was wrong. Things ingrained to the mind since childhood, deemedwrong a thousand times over and yet still there. Understood rather suddenly,that he wasn’t the problem. Well, he was, but he would’ve been whatever helooked like.
Mr. Armstrong feared for his daughter’sheart.
She simultaneously didn’t for his plight.
“I thought so! Anything else you want tosay?!”
The man turned on his heel and walked away,expression hard to read, Olivier all the while, was seething with anger.
“How can he?!”
Her question directed at him, had him raisehis hands up in a defensive gesture.
“Liv, I guess he was just surprised.”
“He called you slurs!”
“And he immediately regretted it.”
She hid half of her face in a hand, anexasperated sigh slipping from her mouth.
“How can you stay so calm?”
“Worked with you for a decade. I hadworse.”
Laughed when she pushed him into the roomsof her childhood, something between angry and tired.
He’d talk to the man after a long shower hedecided. Introduce himself properly, congratulate him on his birthday, becauseapparently nobody had as of now.
Looking at aclock on the wall, happy that the ball was still so many hours away.
He knocked on the doorframe, trying not toshow his insecurity.
“Excuse me, Mr. Armstrong?”
Silence for a moment, the man not turningfrom his stance at the window, looking out of it.
“Come in Colonel and please close thedoor behind you.”
He did so, carefully, his gut clenching atthe man’s serious tone.
“I guess that you wanted to talk withme, concerning my earlier words?”
Steeling himself, he stood at attention,voice strong.
“Partially Sir, though I’d ratherspeak with you about my relationship with your daughter.”
A sigh, and then the man turned, handsstill folded behind his back.
“I would like to apologize firstthough, my words have been uttered in rage, were inconsiderate and as we bothknow, prejudiced too.”
There was true remorse in his eyes, thoughMiles had not thought the man to mean such words at all in the first place. Hadidentified many of Olivier’s tales of outrage at her father’s behaviours forwhat they were: worry. It did not justify anything, but it was a reason nonetheless.
“Accepted Sir, but my question is ofanother nature.”
Philip Gargantos Armstrong sat down in hischair, with as grand a gesture expected from such a huge man. Motioned for himto sit at the opposite end of the desk. Miles felt that it would be rude todecline and sat down, the knot in his gut not yet resolved.
“I think we have not been properly introducedyet Colonel, but I’ve heard much about your good work in Ishval!”
“Thank you, Sir, it wasn’t easy atfirst and neither is it now, but worth every second.”
“And you are in a relationship withOlivier for how long?”
He gulped, though not audibly, but had afeeling that this was the prep-talk with your girlfriend’s father that everybodyalways went on about. It was too late to mourn not having listened.
“More than a year now Sir, though Ihave to admit that it feels longer.”
A chin propped up on folded hands and anintense stare, not unlike Olivier’s.
“And you’d say she is happy?”
He would marvel later, how fast the answercame to him.
“She laughs more than I ever heard,takes her time during the days. Is relaxed, paints again. I’ve never seen herlike this before.”
Was not looking at Mr. Armstrong, but slightlyto the side, not seeing anything. Thinking about the way she smiled while doingthose things. Missing her own father’s smile.
"And you’ve not yet introducedyourself to me?”
Took the challenge, countering it with thetruth. If the man was anything like Olivier, he could sense a lie anyways.
“Olivier demanded to introduce meproperly and personally and with my work in Ishval and the peace negotiationsin the north, making time was rather difficult.”
Satisfied the man smiled at him, somethinglurking in his eyes.
“And you indented for more than justgetting to know me now?”
Heard the man continue, feeling found out.
“You know, love never came easily toOlivier.”
Took in the almost wistful words of afather, again not getting a word in between.
“You want her hand?”
He retorted, quickly.
“I want to offer you a place in myfamily-line.”
Stunned silence for several moments, beforethe big man started to raucously laugh. Not demeaning, not belittling, butapparently charmed by his gal.
“Now I see why she likes you so much!But tell me, what do you mean by that?”
Pulled out the box he’d gotten out of hissuitcase before, setting it down onto the table.
“In here is a traditional sash of myfamily. A valuable thing to offer to anyone outside of it, meaning that you areinvited into it. With accepting, you’d allow me to join our families.”
Armstrong senior turned thoughtful, thoughseemed intrigued.
“And your family-line isimportant?”
“Illustrious.”
He was met with another laugh.
“So, if I accept, you’ll want therings from me?”
Nodded, familiar with their traditions, onpurpose seeking to mix them.
“I cannot answer you right awayson.”
The sigh spoke of honesty, of a fatherfeeling like he was about to lose a daughter.
“I will think on it though, will watchyou for a bit. If Olivier is willing to show me her face ever again. She’srather good at bearing a grudge, especially when she holds it for good reason.”
He stood with the man and took his hands.Pocketed the box again.
"Thank you, Sir!”
“It’s Philip to you now!”
Returned the smile and turned around,leaving the room. He’d not won the man over yet, but he’d not lost any groundeither.
Hoped that it would at least stay likethat, asking a maid for directions to Alexander Armstrong’s rooms.
Ready to showhis worth in a tuxedo too.
He was not given the chance to leave hisstudy, before his eldest came in, beautiful and strong-willed, foregoing the typicaldance of curtesy. He’d always admired her for it.
“What do you want Olivier?”
He knew her to still be angry. It showed inthe way she held herself, back straight, hands balled into fists. The way shebreathed in a controlled manner, almost inaudible. The way her eyes were ablazewith fury.
She did not dance around the subject; hisown behaviour having ridded her of every shred of polite conversation sheprobably had stored in her body. Which had never been much to begin with.
“The rings grandmother put aside forme!”
He marvelled at the determination in hervoice.
“Is it not proper anymore, to ask foryour fathers blessing?”
The hurt tone of voice came unbidden, yethe couldn’t supress it. Knew her answer before she said it. Dealing with herhad always been his weak-point, her emotions so strong, so unbridled. His wifehad been able to get along with this, never trying to reign her in, ratherriding the moods out with her.
“You made your opinion clear!”
He’d indeed done so, too many times in herlife, always telling her what he thought about the things she wanted to do,whom she wanted to be. Wondered why he’d never learned to keep his mouth shut.Why he’d never allowed himself to doubt his own convictions.
“I cannot give them to you Liv,I…”
Voice wavering, he looked away, unsure whatto say. He did not want to hurt her more, had done so too often, but also notwanting to spoil made deals. And when the awaited screaming did not come, therage, the righteous anger, he dared to look her in the eyes again.
Watched, as for the first time his daughterseemed to be devoid of an answer, looking at him shocked, stunned and sad.
“He may not be your choice father, buthe is mine. I thought you’d respect that!”
Not loud, but almost quiet she talkedsuddenly, voice barely above a whisper.
He had no answer to her, sincere apologyfor all his mishaps not in his mouth, nor the will to ruin her loves plans.
“I love him father, enough to show theworld!”
Dangerously close to a plea she came andhis hand grabbed the corner of the desk, knuckles turning white.
Left without ananswer, she stormed out.
“Oh, you got to be kidding me!”
She sat on the bed, legs folded underneathher, book in hand. Clad in a pair of fuzzy sweatpants and one of his worn-outshirts she used as pyjamas. Looking up and smiling at him shortly, beforelooking back into her book again.
“Hey Miles.”
“Why are you not dressed?”
The tuxedo fit, his hair was done. Onlyfeeling a little uncomfortable before stepping into the room, now his gutclenching. Something more had happened, something he hadn’t been there for.
“I’m not going.”
She seemed too calm for his liking.
“It’s your father’s birthday Olivier!We travelled half the country for it, beneath us are hundreds of people,pouring into the ballroom!”
All he got was a shrug.
“Oh Olivier, you’re seriously actinglike a man-child!”
She looked at him now, fiercely fixating himinto place, over the rim of her book.
“He called you a dirty-handed servantand a leech, unwilling to apologize!”
“I talked to him Olivier, it’s fine,really!”
“And I talked to him too! And let metell you, he not acted like a man approving of you!”
“Since when have you ever cared aboutapproval!?”
“This is my family Miles; theiropinion means something to me!”
He stopped his hand millimetres before itcould burrow into his slicked back hair.
“Why is it suddenly so important what theythink?! Didn’t you always end up doing what you wanted?”
“You’re more than just my will Miles, you’vegot your own! And I want them to respect that and to respect you!”
“Well, we won’t achieve that when we stayup here, sulking!”
The book landed pages first on the bed, heranger knowing no bounds.
“I’m not sulking Miles, I just don’t wantto subject you to the tattle! The room follows my father’s opinion, whicheverit is!”
Did not know where his calm came from.
“But Liv, please trust me when I say thatI’ve talked to him. Spend time with your siblings and mother at least, all theother people you haven’t seen in such a long time!”
“And you?”
“Well, you can rub me directly in his faceif you want to, too. Show me off without shame, dance with me and kiss me whenhe can see.”
And now he’d gotten her mood to lift alittle, had her chuckling at least.
“You want to swagger with me on your arm!”
“Maybe a little.”
Winked at her, smiled widely.
“And you’d really be fine with it?”
Worry was in her repertoire too, though shehid it well, kneeling on the bed with her arms crossed, loose shirt and fuzzypants.
“I’m the onealready dressed, am I not?!”
Her daughter made him wait.
It was in good tradition that the men weredone earlier than the women, simply clothing themselves, then meeting for acigar and a brandy.
The women on the other hand, needed helpwith pulling their dresses on, with make-up and hair. She’d paid a hairdresserto come into the house and be at the ready, prepared a room for her girls tocluck in beforehand.
Catherine and Amue had been down first,announced to the crowd. Whispering to her soon after, that Strongine was stillbusy with getting their oldest sister in her dress. All the while Milesstanding in the grand foyer, waiting beside the stairs to the sibling’shallway.
They’d thrown him out of course, told himthat he wasn’t allowed to come nearer then this.
And when she finally caught a first glimpseof her daughter, on the last shred of fashionably late as it was, she breatheda sigh of relief. She’d heard about the rather “eventful” morning, wouldn’thave been surprised if Olivier didn’t choose to attend. Philipp would beoverjoyed to see her now, so ashamed for what he’d said already.
On top of the stairs she stood, the dashingIshvalan on her arm and when the whole room turned, she saw him loose his cooland her icy shield fall into place.
Strongine had outdone herself.
Dark-blue flowers of lace covered herdaughter from neck to wrists and from there to her feet. Below her knees thedress flared, golden shoes peeking out underneath, fitting scattered petals ofgold in the pattern. And between the flowers, it looked like there was nothing.Only little specks of skin showed of course, but all over they did, sometimesin places that left eyes searching. Knew that nothing would show thatshouldn’t, yet could hardly take her eyes off it too.
The dress was fitted perfectly, followed abody somehow beautifully shaped by a lifetime of war. The up-done hair and thelong golden earrings, simple in style, yet elegant, accented her long neck.Lips, no more than their natural colour, forcing the people to look into hereyes. A bit of black and specs of gold, nothing more was needed.
Felt a surge of pride when she saw herdaughter embrace her femininity, making it her very own, the rumours about herbe damned.
And Miles, the sweet man, was staring ather too, seemed awestruck. Handsome himself with his strong face, shaven andclean. Hair slicked back, bound at the back of his head. Tuxedo ratherstandard, but the cummerbund usually going with it exchanged for a traditionalIshvalan sash. The one from his family she learned after chatting with him inthe foyer, a traditional garb only worn when you wanted to show someone theutmost respect.
Realised rather suddenly, that Olivier hadapparently asked Strongine to make the dress this exact shade of blue, just sothey’d fit.
“My, you look gorgeous!”
Embraced her daughter after thisexclamation, grabbing her shoulders and looking her up and down.
“Gine did everything, so you should praiseher instead. But thank you!”
Let her daughter go on, talk to hersisters, all four of them looking beautiful tonight. Winked at Miles, who stoodin the middle, apparently the centre of attention, wanted or not.
Her husband had managed to anger all their daughtersbefore tonight, all over the course of a week. It took skill and his very ownbrand of foolery to achieve something like that, seeing as only her two eldestgirls had a flaring temper, Gine and Cathy rather calm instead.
Amue and he had fought over her girlfriendand her will to move in with her.
Strongine had voiced the want to travel fora bit, alone, feeling the need to draw inspiration from other sources, as wellfeeling the need to be free for a while. Her husband was against it of course.
Catherine wanted to further her alchemicstudies, wanted to seek out a master. Out of the question this was for him, atleast it had been two days ago.
And Olivier had brought a man home, afirst, with her mind set on marrying him and a love strong enough to prove it.A man he’d foolishly insulted first thing upon meeting him and fumbling with anapology too.
Yet, they were all here. Would dance withhim, from youngest to oldest, like it was tradition. Chat with the guests, eatand dance. Get to know each other again, time spent apart often too long.
And sooner or later, they would get theirwill.
She blamed the stubbornness that has beenpassed down through the Armstrong family-line through generations for that.
“Why looking so lonesome?”
He came up behind her, free fromcongratulators for a few moments, arm looping through hers. A smile in hisvoice.
“Not lonesome, but watching our girls. Thepoor lad is practically torn apart verbally.”
Both watching a bit as Colonel Miles,blushing and laughing and also looking a little bit uncomfortable, stoodbetween their daughters. Quiet obviously the matter of discussion and the buttof every joke, yet not fleeing Olivier’s side. Alex would be glad for therespite offered to him from his sisters.
She spoke again, lowly, honest question onher mind.
“You really won’t give them your blessing?”
Felt and heard him grumble.
“I told him that I want to think about it. Wantto get to know him a little first. This is Olivier we’re talking about hereafter all. She’s never brought a boy home.”
“Yeah, but why insult him?”
“He came out of her room and I was quitesure that she’d been in it at the time. Looking dishevelled. I felt like I didback when she was fifteen, finding here snogging that Claudio behind thestables!”
“The first man to have called PrinceClaudio a Casanova, but not the last?”
They laughed amongst themselves, watchingas their daughters dispersed.
“She’s not fifteen anymore Phil and I’mquite sure she isn’t just bringing him here to rile you up.”
“I know that Tina, I know. But you knowwhat they say: Never let your daughter marry the first man she brings home…”
“…except for when they’d beenchildhood-friends.”
Sighed, the rule so outdated in truth andyet common word amongst the people she talked too.
“If this would’ve been Mustang…”
“The only way she’d have brought him as herpartner is in a body-bag!”
Which was a truth, met with laughter again.
“She’s over the moon with him Phil, believeme.”
“It’s not her I’m worried about!”
Grim, unsatisfied and yet wistful. Herhusband had never known what he wanted, always tried to meet every expectationand losing sight in the process. It was her that brought him back on track.
“Take your time, watch them tonight. I canpromise you, someone who’s worked with your eldest for almost a decade andstill wants to be with her, is quite sure what he wants.”
Never took too well to her advice, butanswered with a sigh anyways.
“We’ll see.”
His arm thoughnever leaving hers, pulling her onto the dancefloor.
She had fun, lots even, though she wascareful to put on a sour face when passing her father.
Had felt exposed in her dress at first, atthe same time marvelling at Gine’s craftmanship, yet worried that her ownwishes were coming back to bite her in the ass.
“Iwant his eyes to pop out of his head!”
And her own had at first, standing stillduring the tedious process of getting into this thing, over forty goldenbuttons following her spine, all latched closed by hand. Doubting that this hadbeen a good idea, yet walking down the stairs with faux confidence, waiting forhis reaction.
Had been sure that she could’ve convincedhim to go back upstairs again with her, if push came to shove.
His reaction had chased everything fauxabout her confidence away.
Talked with people, avoiding those she knewto be not worth their time anyways. Danced with Miles as often as she could,roasted him a bit together with her sisters. They ate and drank, laughed andwhispered sweet nothings and sweet naughties to one another.
Face only crunching up again, when the timefor traditions came.
Each son or daughter in law would firstsing a song for him, or show a sketch, anything that could even remotely beconsidered as artsy. As he had none as of yet, this part got glossed overquickly.
The daughters dance though, he had plentyto show with that.
Catherine had gone first, looking like afairy-tale princess in her dress, dancing energetically with her father.
Strongine next, then Amue. They were tallerthan him, dresses cut to become their tall figures. Both had their own troubleswith him, all of them had, but they were so much better at hiding it.
She envied their ability to reign theirtemper in when she hardly could, being led onto the dancefloor.
Was too preoccupied with keeping a straight,dignified face, to notice how gracefully Miles released her arm, giving herinto her father’s trusty hands. Let herself be led away, not caring for themany eyes, nor perturbed by them.
She’d first done this with barely six yearsold after all.
They danced elegantly and effortlessly. Nottalking for the longest time.
“I’m sorry for having reacted the way I didLivvie.”
Barely above a whisper, yet honest. Didn’t stumble,but was shocked anyways. He’d never apologized before.
“He is a good man and you seem to be sohappy with him. I’ve never seen you smile so much.”
Remained quiet, let him talk. The faces aroundthem a blur as they swirled.
“I always had a lot of trouble with thefact that you were growing up. You’re my little girl after all.”
Broke her own rules when she answered.
“But I’ve grown up by now dad.”
Looked him in the eye, taking in the way hesmiled, like a man who couldn’t decide if he was feeling happiness or pain.
“Yeah, you have. Into a beautiful woman. Buta father never forgets the first time he understands that, so forgive me mywords please, my hesitation.”
Felt herself whisper, before thinking longabout it. He’d never sounded like this before, so wistful, so sad. So sorry.
“All forgiven.”
Heard the music end, felt her face takeninto his hands, a kiss pressed to her forehead. Closed her eyes, smiling. Would’veturned to go now, would let him step into the spotlight alone to give hisspeech, but felt his arm loop through hers.
He led her to Miles again, handed her overproperly, smiling. In front of hundreds of people, meaning clear, traditionsforgone for one night.
“She’s all yours now.”
The words carrying something they’d beenlonging for.
And while she watched him step onto thedancefloor again, smiling and gesturing in a grand manner, she felt unshedtears sting her eyes. Miles warm hand on her arm, squeezing tightly, shakingslightly. Exchanged a warm look with him, red meeting blue, the water standingin his eyes too.
Rested her hand on his shoulder softly,eyes trained on her father, listening to his words.
Fingers snakingup to hers, intertwining.
The cool air was a godsend.
With so many guests in the ballroom the airhad grown a bit stale, almost stuffy and when she’d noticed, he’d found himselfled outside by her, knowing every secret escape.
Breathed freely, feeling her eyes on his.
“Olivier, what you father said to me…”
“He approves of you!”
Smiled at him, held his hand softly inhers. Cutting into his sentence with the known brusqueness.
He laughed. Caught his breath under hergaze, feeling the words tumble from his mouth before thinking properly, beforeremembering his plans, she doing the same thing at the same time.
“I offered your father a sash!”
“I asked my father for the rings!”
Stunned silence that held longer than a fewmoments, stretched into minutes. Hands holding the others tighter.
Then the sound of the balcony-door opening.
“Oh, there you are! We were searching allover for you! Come back in soon, we want to take the family photo!”
Shut again with a bang you wouldn’t expectfrom Catherine Armstrong’s slight body.
And then she started to laugh, sound clearlike bells. Eyes closed, the specks of gold glittering. And he waned himselfentranced, answer and question given at the same time, to booth of them. Tookher face in his hands when the laughter died down, drowned in her eyes.
Lips pressing against hers, sealing the promise.
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Yuletide Letter 2017
Dear Yuletide Writer,
Hello, and thanks for writing for me! This is my third year doing Yuletide, I’ve had fantastic experiences both other times, and I’m really excited about all of my requests (and offers, though that’s probably less relevant to you). I actually had a hard time narrowing down my requests for this year, which I think bodes well.
I am alessandralee on AO3, faleronofkingsreach on tumblr, and alessandra_lee on LJ.
My fandom requests are: Orphan Island - Lauren Snyder, Call the Midwife, Emerald City, Provost’s Dog - Tamora Pierce, The Bold Type, and Wayward Children Series - Seanan McGuire.
General Likes: worldbuilding, fics that focus on the relationships between characters (be they romantic/platonic/familial/adversarial/etc.), backstory, slice of life, future fic, pining, happy endings, holiday fic (winter holidays, universe-specific holidays, or otherwise).
General dislikes: 1st/2nd person point of view, focus on non-canon pregnancy/children, non-canon character death, explicit sex, rape/noncon, incest, graphic violence, gore, character bashing. Also, I’m not really interested in receiving AUs for Yuletide this year (with 1 exception mentioned under Wayward Children).
The Bold Type (Jane Sloan & Ryan Decker) I let friends and a barrage of Facebook ads talk me into starting this show and I fell in love with it, and with Jane Sloan specifically. I love that things scare her and embarrass her, but she does them anyway (and then writes something honest and heartfelt about it). I love her friendship with Kat and Sutton, so feel free to include them and any other characters from the show in your fic. I like Ryan, hence my requesting him, but the TBT really only shows him from Jane’s point of view, so I have a hard time really pinning him down.
I really enjoy the two of them together, and would love to receive a fic that involves the two of them giving a serious, exclusive relationship a try. Jane clearly has a certain idea about what Ryan is looking for from a woman, but she hasn’t given him much of a chance to prove otherwise (nor has he put much effort into getting one). But what if he did want to date Jane seriously, and only date her? It seems like he at least entertained the idea. I’m sure there would be some missteps along the way, but I’d love to see them put in the effort. Maybe they have to go separate ways for a while, but run into each other years down the line and find that the attraction’s still there. Do they give it another go? Or do they give casual another shot, only to eventually find they want to be less casual, and then try to broach the topic again?
Call the Midwife (Trixie Franklin & Christopher Dockerill) I forget how I started watching this show, but I’ve watched the last few seasons over long weekends with my mother. I love the historical aspect (fashion! medical breakthroughs! the horrible trauma of a generation that survived World War II!), as well as the focus on women and all the different types of relationships that they have. It took me a season or two to warm up to Trixie, but as we’ve gotten to see more sides of her I’ve come to love the vulnerability that she hides under her perfectly applied eyeliner. I’ve been hoping she’ll get some sort of happy ending since she broke off her engagement to Tom, and I like the idea of Christopher being that for her. Neither one of them was entirely forthcoming about their pasts at the start of their relationship, but it was to avoid getting hurt (and in Christopher’s case, also to avoid his daughter getting hurt).
Please, please, please give me a happy ending (or middle) for these two. Whether it’s a sweet holiday interlude (I love the show’s Christmas episodes, but I’m also in for any other holiday), or something that has them both opening up a little more about their pasts (Trixie’s childhood and alcoholism, and Christopher’s divorce), and not letting that get in the way of their future. I’d love to see more of Trixie getting used to the idea of being in a relationship with a man who has a child. Trixie was really great with Alexandra during their first meeting, but things aren’t always that easy or pleasant when there’s a child involved. Alternately, I think there could be a lot to explore by having Christopher be formally introduced to the rest of the nuns and midwives. I love all of the canon pairings on the show, so feel free to include them, but I’d like the focus to be on Trixie and Christopher.
Emerald City (Dorothy Gale & Lucas/Roan) Oh man, this show sucked me in from the first episode and I was so sad to hear that it was canceled. I love tv shows/books/movies that take a well-known story and twist it up, and this was no exception. At the start, Dorothy was so clearly thrown off-kilter by being sent to a world with completely different rules than her own, but she learned to play by them and play by them well. I also love how emotional she could be. When something affected her, it was clear for everyone to see.
For this fandom, I’d like to see something that picks up where the show left off. I think there’s so much to explore there, with Dorothy returning to Oz and also being around Lucas/Roan again. Something that shows them trying to figure out where they stand with each other now would be much appreciated. They were lovers and they were enemies, and they very nearly killed each other. How do they reconcile that? Is he Lucas or is Roan or is he some combination of both of them now? Where are his loyalties now? Can they trust each other? So much of their relationship is completely up in the air and can go down so many different paths. It’s exciting to think about. I also really loved both of their relationships with Sylvie, so feel free to include her.
Orphan Island - Laurel Snyder (Abigail) I am a children’s librarian and I read this book for a committee I’m on at work. I wouldn’t say that I like the way it was open ended and mysterious, but I loved the book and the unanswered questions have definitely been circling around in my head since I finished. I will give Laurel Snyder a lot of credit, because usually books like this annoy me rather than intrigue me.
So I’d love to have your take any of the many unanswered questions. Who was Abigail, where was she from, and what happened to her? How did the first children end up on the Island? Where to the children start out from before coming to the Island, and where do they end up afterwards? Is there a purpose to the Island? How does the Island manage to provide the children with everything they need (at least until it’s rules are broke, and then how does it know the rules have been broken)? I know I requested Abigail, but if you’d like to focus on any other character or just give me worldbuilding, you do not need to include her.
Provost’s Dog - Tamora Pierce (Sabine) I’ve been reading Tamora Pierce’s books since I was a kid, and about two years ago I did a re-read of everything she’s written. I wasn’t overly enthusiastic about the Provost’s Dog trilogy when it originally came out, but the second time around I got so much out of it. As an adult, I loved seeing the Tortall of the past, as well as all these events/trends/movements/etc that created the Tortall we see in Pierce’s other books.
Sabine in particular is a great example of this. We tend to think that as time moves forward society gets more progressive, but Sabine is a lady knight in a society that is becoming more narrow in its gender roles. It would be fantastic to receive something that explores that more. How does the Cult of Gentle Mother affect her life as a knight, or even her life farther down the line when she’s put down her sword? How does it affect women knights as a whole? Alternately, something that shows Sabine processing/recovering from Tunstall’s betrayal and coming to terms with the inequality he saw in their relationship would be wonderful, as would something showing her relationships with Bekah and/or Clary in the wake of this.
Wayward Children series - Seanan McGuire (any) Oh man, I was in love with this series from the moment I first read a description. And then I was completely awed by Seanan McGuire’s handling of it, especially in regards to the worlds she created for these children to have spent time in. I found every character in this tagset so interesting, and they each have so much about them to be explored, so whoever it was that you offered and whoever it is that you ended up writing about, I’m sure I’ll love it. I’m not really interested in anything shippy with regards to this series (I don’t think I really have ships for this series), so feel free to have any characters interacting in any way. Also, this is my first time requesting ‘any’ in an exchange, so I’m sorry if I’m explaining things I shouldn’t or not explaining things that I should.
Some ideas: We’ve seen/heard in first person what Nancy and the twins’ worlds were like, so I’d love to see or hear more about where Loriel, Christopher, Eleanor, and Kade went. That could be done set in their first trips to those worlds, or because one of them finds a portal back, or whatever interests you. I’d also love to see an alternate universe in which Loriel does make it back to her world. We know the Spider Queen mourned her for a long time; what was their relationship like? What happens to Jack, Jill, and/or Nancy now that they’re back in the worlds they longed for? Is it different now that things are permanent, now that they have a more concrete understanding of where they are and how they got there and where they were from? For Eleanor, what happens if she run out of time and her door closes? What happens when Eleanor goes through her door, and Kade is now in charge of the school? What would it be like for Kade to cross paths with someone who had been to the same world that he was in (maybe someone who wants to go back)? Also, any sort of worldbuilding would be much appreciated, regardless of which world you are building and which characters appear.
So that’s my letter. I hope it was easy to follow and that you now have an idea about what it is that you want to write. I am eagerly looking forward to opening your fic.
Best of luck!
Alessandra
#yuletide#yuletide 2017#the bold type#call the midwife#emerald city#orphan island#provost's dog#wayward children
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