#seriously like i enjoy every single comment in the tags and reblogs i get like im laughing and crying right along with u guys | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bvckandeddie · 10 months

Text

Tumblr Fandom: A Year in Review 2023

i was tagged by @captain-hen, thank you! 🥰

i was tempted to skip the top five blorbos/fandoms/pairings section because let's be honest, it's really only been buck and eddie for the entire year, but i do have other interests even if i'm not as involved in them as i am in buddie. so enjoy learning more about my ao3 history, i guess? 😂

top 5 blorbos:

evan "buck" buckley (9-1-1)

eddie diaz (9-1-1)

roy kent (ted lasso)

clint barton (marvel)

billy butcher (the boys) (i literally started watching this show two weeks ago but y'know what? i'm adding it. butcher is just so blorbo shaped.)

top 5 fandoms:

9-1-1

avatar: the last airbender (for anyone who doesn't know, my atla sideblog is @zukkababey!)

marvel

ted lasso

teen wolf

top 5 pairings:

evan buckley/eddie diaz (9-1-1)

roy kent/jamie tartt (ted lasso)

clint barton/bucky barnes (marvel)

arthur/eames (inception)

billy butcher/hughie campbell (the boys)

shoutout to some new friends:

i've talked to so many new people this year who have really made me feel included in the 9-1-1 fandom, namely @devirnis, @colonoscopys, @shitouttabuck, @housewifebuck, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @vampbuckley and @buck2eddie. i love seeing you all in my notifications, and so many of you have been so encouraging, especially during my writing drought that's been persisting for months. y'all are great 🥹🫶

shoutout to some old friends:

i'm kinda new here but @eddiediaaz, i'm pretty sure you were my first ever 9-1-1 mutual that i talked to and you really made me feel so so welcome in the fandom when i posted my first buddie fic back in 2022. i will always be grateful for that and you!!! ❤️

favourite creation you posted this year:

it's definitely gotta be what a heart can do. i love dad buck so much, i had such a fun time writing it, and i think it's some of my best storytelling. it makes me really happy that so many people have read and enjoyed it!

favourite creation posted by someone else this year:

THIS VIDEO by @butchdiaz. holy fucking shit. i'm sure everyone reading this has already seen it, but ohhhhh my god. this video rearranged my molecules. i can't listen to ceilings without thinking about it. the way you edited it to match so many important buddie moments, it genuinely makes me feel so insane. i re-watched it last night and i'm still vibrating just thinking about it.

people who brightened your year:

so many people!!! @negansmiith made a graphic for hurt locker that basically made my whole year! it is saved in my camera roll and i look back on it frequently. 🥰 @housewifebuck made a beautiful hat that i am genuinely obsessed with. check out their shop!!! anyone who has ever read my silly tags on a post i reblogged and dm'd me to chat about it��i love you.

anyone else you'd like to mention:

everyone who has read my fics or commented on them telling me your thoughts, thank you. seriously. just know that when i read your comment(s), i was twirling my hair and kicking my feet back and forth and squealing and smiling so hard my cheeks started to hurt. every single comment made 2023 that much brighter.

five of your favourite authors this year:

@gayhoediaz - every time i get an email that you've posted a buddie fic, i know that i have a bedtime story for that night. i know it's gonna be a good one, every single time.

@devirnis - i read your fic about buck and eddie ring shopping and getting caught up in a robbery and i've never looked back. i've read so many of your fics this year (and tbh, thank god i still have more to read) and i'm looking forward to reading all the ones that you have in the works!!!

@colonoscopys - i’m pretty sure that i binged basically all of your fics this year and i don’t regret a single thing (except maybe going through them too fast). god, i love your writing.

@rewritetheending - gosh the way you’re able to get to the heart of emotions and describe them in a way that puts an ache in my chest makes me want to claw the ground until my fingernails break off. my fave fic of yours is still while we do what lovers do and i know it wasn’t posted in 2023 but i needed to shout it out here because goddddddd. i still think about it all the time.

@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels - i enjoyed reading your halloween fics this year so much, particularly your dark buddie au. sometimes you just gotta imagine your wholesome, already in love blorbos be absolutely unhinged and crazy about each other, and that’s perfectly normal. i actually remember looking for a dark buddie fic when i first joined the fandom and there were none, so i’m glad my wish was fulfilled, especially when it was done so damn well.

five of your favourite artists/gifmakers/podficcers/etc. this year:

@try-set-me-on-fire - you could have gone under fave authors too, but i fucking love your art style. i don't know art terms so forgive me, but something about the messiness and abstractness scratches this itch deep in my brain and they evoke such unnameable feelings that want to burst out of my ribcage. ugh!!!!!! if you sold prints i'd be checking out in two seconds flat.

@butchdiaz - i know i already waxed poetic about your ceilings edit, but i love your edits/gifs too, particularly this one. it's so simple but so beautiful and fucking devastating. the gif aspect is subtle but intentional (buck fading to black and white while the blood stays red?????? KILL ME!). i'd eat your gifs if i could.

@shitouttabuck - you could go under fave authors too (hello i love you like a dog fic) but i wanted to shout you out here because you are so fucking funny. every single edit you post makes me giggle out loud. tbh i didn't even realize they were all from you until i started scrolling through your edit tag looking for this post. i can't get over it. i literally laughed at it AGAIN when i found it.

@eddiediaaz - you are constantly feeding the 911 fandom. you make so many gifsets on so many different sideblogs that i'm sure no one actually knows how many gifs you're constantly making. and every single one is so goddamn good??? and they're so creative. like this one??? there are so many things going on, i can't even fathom how the hell you did it. gifmakers are magic, i swear.

@iinryer - YOUR ART FUELS ME. your style is so *clenches fist* fucking cool. the lines are simple but they still look like the characters?? i admire that so, so much because i know if i ever tried that they'd look so wonky, lol. i think about juice box chim all the damn time and i don't know where i've been lately but this one with buck and chris??? it's so soft and sweet and vulnerable, with the way buck is holding him and chris is nestled. GOD. everything you make is gold.

three (+1) things you're looking forward to in 2024:

getting my masters degree!

getting a job, maybe???

posting more buddie fic 👀

+ season 7 of 911, obviously.

i’m sure i’ve missed some people inadvertently but this was really fun to do! at this time of year, with the short days and cold weather (at least for some of us), i think we could all do with a little bit of joy and a brighter day. i really love this fandom and i'm so grateful to be a part of it!

tagging everyone i mentioned in this post, if you haven’t already done it and want to participate! ❤️

#tag games

27 notes · View notes

yandere-daze · 1 year

Note

have you ever think about people who might be defending themselves not to reblog because they have a right to decide or something? this has been bugging my mind... no offense to anyone though, sorry, and love your works !

Rant incoming, just as a warning lol

But yes, obviously people have the right to decide if they want artists and writers to keep being motivated to post works on here for free or not.

As a writer myself, I just don´t understand the rationale behind it. There is literally zero reason not to reblog. It takes just as long as leaving a like and if you have zero patience to type out the tags then you don´t even have to necessarily to do that ( even if I will literally love you if you do!)

Likes do and mean nothing. They´re the equivalent of being left on reading after writing a long and heartfelt message.

Reblogs help our words getting spread around and actually show us that people care about our posts and want us to keep doing them.

But why have some people decided that they just refuse to do the thing the entire website is built around that would actually help their favorite blogs to stay motivated?

They have the choice not to reblog anything but it´s a selfish one and they better not complain when they get blocked or their favorite creators stop posting.

Just think about it: People ( me included) take hours out of their busy lives to write something and then post it because they want people to read and enjoy their works.

Writing sometimes takes hours of time and effort and it´s not always easy. If we were just going to do it for ourselves there would be no need to type out all of it out because the main fun part of the creative process to me is just daydreaming about an idea I had.

Actually putting it into words to tell a compelling story is tough and takes lots of patience. But we do it anyway because we want to share our ideas with other people, we want to talk about them with others. We want to ramble and fantasize about different scenarios. That´s fun.

It´s only natural to want at least some sort of feedback after spending so much time on something. And then it just hurts when people refuse to reblog your posts for ctually no reason at all, other than that they´re lazy or think a reblog is something super rare and special that only the "best" posts get to benefit from.

( Seriously, I don´t understand the sentiment of "Oh I really liked this but I didn´t like it enough to actually reblog and share it with other people. I don´t think the author should get any recognition. Oh but they better keep writing anyway and fast!")

At this point, rambling about ideas in a friend´s dms feels way more fulfilling. You guys have no idea of all the extensive rambles I went on with Korka that most likely will never see the light of day.

Why should I put in the effort and write it down to share with others when they can´t even bother to spend a single second to reblog it to show me that they appreciated what I wrote.

It makes no sense. Feedback and the back-and-forth with readers and fellow writers is what keeps us going. It´s super fun to get a conversation going about a cool idea you had! It´s not fun at all to see the notes on a post go up but no one saying anything. All that tells me is "huh, I guess people didn´t like this one. Guess I won´t post any of that anymore"

This complete lack of feedback from readers combined with work picking up is actually the main reason why I stopped writing for a few months. It didn´t feel rewarding anymore.

The recent yandere Alcryst post is actually one of the reasons why I started considering posting a bit more again. I was pleasantly surprised by all the nice tags and comments that one got and it made me smile every time I saw a new one pop up. I don´t care if it didn´t get as many notes as most twst works, I still felt way more satisfied and proud of it.

And that´s sort of where I come to the conclusion of this post:

Feedback matters, it really does! Likes tell us absolutely nothing, you could have downright hated it for all I know. But rest assured that I do screenshot every nice tag or comment I get, no matter if it´s actually a thought-out comprehensive analysis or just someone going "HJVJMVJM". I appreciate all of these so much. I save all of them in a little folder and look at them to cheer myself up when things might be tough.

So please, if you want your favorite blogs to continue then reblog! Maybe even leave a nice comment! Don´t forget that you get all of this stuff for free, creators are the ones keeping a community truly alive. You would probably be sad if your favorite writer or artist suddenly stopped posting due to a lack of support.

Please. Take that single second out of your life to hit the reblog button. It helps out more than you think and goes a long way to keep us motivated.

#anon ask #ramble #anyone that has been following me for a while knows that I´m pretty passionate about this topic #support writers #support artists #reblogging is not hard

74 notes · View notes

inukag · 1 year

Note

Hello, so I'm not heterosexual (I'm ace) and as you can tell I do like one of those ships in the poll. I thought your language was very harmful. Now, I'm not here to say those characters are nice people but that doesn't mean their fans like them because they are "hetero" and just like a hot guy. They are good characters and had cool dynamics with Kagome (yes that's subjective and you might disagree with it but some people did enjoy it). I do agree that Sango should have been on the poll but there are legit reasons people enjoy darker ships or enemies to lovers trope, they can be engaging to some. So to dismiss it as just "hetero girls liking a hot guy" is very bad. The reason I'm sending you this ask is because I think you are a good person and might recieve well my comment. I considered sending an anon but I wanted you to "see" me as we talk and I hope I don't get any harassment over this from others. Anyway, thank you for reading.

First of all thank you for sending this message non-anonymously! I know it can be stressful but it is definitely better for discussions. If I see anyone sending you hate over this I will fight them personally.

When I said “this fandom is painfully straight” I did not mean “every single person who likes these ships is straight”, that would be ridiculous. But it IS a straight ship. My point is that gay ships are almost never taken seriously in this fandom, as shown by the fact that people ship Kagome with all the male characters she canonically doesn’t like before shipping her with girls that she actually likes. I find that sad. Literally the only gay ship in this fandom that has a sizable fanbase is Inu/sess, but that’s another can of worms.

I’m not here to change anyone’s mind about sess/kag or kog/kag, I’m very much a ‘ship and let ship’ person. Those ships have existed for years so I know very well that me saying “Kagome Higurashi would never canonically love these guys” is not going to change anyone’s mind. So I’ll spare you the whole rant but I’ll say that I’ve read some sess/kag stuff (Raindrops and other fanfics I found years ago) and I’ve never seen Sesshomaru portrayed as anything other than a kind, suave, gentleman who saves Kagome from Inuyasha the toxic, two timer. His canonical racism and lack of empathy for others is gone. So I have a hard time believing people when they tell me they love the ship because it’s a “sexy villain/heroine, enemies to lovers ships” lol. Anyway like I said, I’m not going to change your mind and you won’t change mine, so no need to argue about this.

Also for added context regarding the “gay ships aren’t taken seriously” issue, a couple weeks ago a bunch of people on Twitter (inukag shippers) made tweets saying they were “disgusted” by the fact that many people headcanon Moroha to be a lesbian. That her blushing at and complimenting girls is “not evidence that she’s gay” and that the “real canon” is that she will end up with Koga’s son (who doesn’t even exists in any Inuyasha media!!!). It’s not an isolated issue with Sesshomaru or Koga fans, as I pointed out the people doing this were inukag shippers and they were called out by other inukag shippers. This fandom as a whole is just not the most friendly when it comes to lgbt+ stuff.

So yeah, I have nothing else to add. I don’t see how my language was harmful if I’m being honest. Regardless of people’s own sexual/romantic orientations this fandom mostly talk about and support straight ships. This isn’t really a call to action either, I’m not telling people what to ship, I was just jokingly pointing that out and hoping that next time people would just consider the fact that gay ships exists as well.

Thanks again for the message and I’ll take this time to remind everyone following me that I use the tag #<ship/character>-critical tag when I criticize stuff, so you can blacklist that if you follow me and don’t want to see negativity about characters or ships that you love. I didn’t tag my first reblog of the poll so that’s my bad, I’ll go back and fix that.

#ask #sesshomarusamas-blog #discourse #sesskag-critical

10 notes · View notes

equinooxe · 1 year

Note

for some reason tumblr isn’t showing me your reblogs in my notifications(?) but thanks to the tag in your answer i got to see the tags you put in the royai day art and i can’t stop thinking about them.. you’re so right..!!

i drew that thinking about how roy feels responsible for everything she has been through, and yet riza still gives him another chance to fulfill his promise to make the world a better place and chooses to keep trusting him… he can’t make up for what he’s done, so he wants riza to never regret trusting him again. you know that scene in ishval when riza basically tells roy she’s responsible for what he’s done since she trusted him in the first place? if i were him hearing that would hurt way more than if she just shot me in the head LOL

so it might be delusional thinking but to me everything roy fights for leads back to riza. he wants to make things right for what it is but also because it’s what he’s promised her… so hearing from riza that she doesn’t regret trust him would mean that he’s finally doing things right :,) i would sob too

im happy you mentioned the fact it’s young riza in your tags, bc i felt it adds much more weight drawing this representation of her instead of any other, but i rarely see people commenting on it and i felt so proud of myself for that train of thought HAHA to finally fulfill the promise he made so long ago to that young and innocent riza who believed in his idealistic dreams enough to trust flame alchemy to him………..!!!

i always enjoy reading about your interpretations and thoughts because i always agree wholeheartedly…!! the fact my drawing brought more of that makes me very happy, so thank you for the tags!! love the way you put it all into words, i wish i had that power too :,) sorry for the long message ……… !! have a nice day!!!

YEAH!!!!

I really wish we knew under what circumstances Mustang left her after he deciphered flame alchemy. Now it just looks like he got what he wanted from her and then left. Roy said at the funeral he would do anything for his master. Berthold makes one request: look after Riza. And he just... doesn’t do that. What a bastard.

Like he was so focused on his own quest for knowledge and power, that he did not see how he failed the person closest to him. He left her behind and did not use the alchemy how he promised. He couldn’t protect her from her father, not from herself and her choices, not from her becoming a murderer. Of course he will regret not doing more, and feels responsible for ruining her life. He even encouraged her to go down the same path by inspiring her. At least that is how I think Mustang may see it from his perspective?

It does makes sense that what he fights for leads back to her!!. His philosophy/goal is to protecting as much people as possible by protecting those closest to him, then they in turn protecting those close to them. And Hawkeye is the closest to him :) he would even give up everything just to protect her if he had to.

I love that you drew that piece with younger Riza, the person he failed the hardest, and future fuhrer Roy who has reached his goal. For him to hear he made that young Riza’s dream come true...... Your brain is massive.

But seriously I love your amazing art and attention to all those details like that!! I’m Likewise nodding along your interpretations. And how you can capture that all in a single image every time. Or just with your fun doodles. It really shows how much you get them personally...! Say hi to arakawa for me hfjgjjgjs

#To be fair Maybe she rejected his help. She also didnt contact him when she could. And she feels responsible too etc.#they are both at fault #but this post is about mustang for once. Kinda #Ask #<3 <3 <3 #This got long too :’)

8 notes · View notes

crusherthedoctor · 2 years

Note

No listen because I am just SO tired of seeing this.

It's happened with 2012 TMNT and it's happening with Sonic, like in every single form of media Sonic has.

People watch/read something they don't like and spread unnecessary hate/rumors about the media as if it won't affect anyone else. I've been a victim of this for so long and I genuinely don't understand why people just can't decide to stop watching something if they don't like it. The only reason I think this happens is because they WANT to spread hate for the media and that upsets me so much.

I understand criticism. It is necessary when it is necessary. But you can't sit there and say "this isn't my Sonic" and then continue to read the comics and find "your Sonic". There is no one Sonic, and I am sick and tired of people treating him like some. Thing they can just take for themselves.

Sonic is allowed to express emotion. The problem that I have with him is that he doesn't do it often, but this isn't me complaining about it because this was an intentional choice by SEGA/IDW, they have proven and said it many times now. He is not some robot, it wouldn't make any sense for him to get back up from being electrocuted and almost drowned (which is one of his biggest fears, by the way) and be expected to be okay. That exact thing happened in Forces and you all complain about it, but you expect that to happen here??? Istg make up your minds.

What Surge said was a lot. What he went through was a lot. He's going to be tired and angry. It's normal and it's allowed.

I have said this before and I will say it again: If you don't like reading the comics, then stop reading them just to hate on them. And if you can't do that for some reason, then stop posting your hate in the idw Sonic tags, make a anti-idw tag if it appeases you. But stop making it seem like they're ruining Sonic's character when other people are trying to enjoy this new direction.

I already use an anti tag for my more bitter-tasting posts about the comic.

I already stopped buying the comic a long time ago, because I'm not going to waste money on somthing that continues to disappoint me. As for why I continue to acknowledge it, that's because pretending it's not there won't make it go away, especially since it's still ongoing and still influencing the rest of the franchise to an extent. Not to mention the sheer amount of influence that Ian Flynn in particular has been given lately. It's kind of impossible to ignore.

I already limit my thoughts to my own blog and the reblogs of those who share similar opinions. If I'm reblogging a comment of someone who likes the comic, it's usually for the sake of bringing up a valid point rather than going "fuck IDW" and leaving it at that. And I tend to use the aforementioned anti tag on top of that.

I already go out of my way to NOT hunt down IDW fans' blogs just to shit on them and their enjoyment, nor do I wish ill upon them for having a different opinion. You know. Like what they do with me and my friends.

Sonic is allowed to show emotion, yes. Neither me or anyone else who has criticised the comic has ever said that he shouldn't. But different characters express their emotions in different ways, and not every character is going to react with 100% emotion. Sonic is a subtle character despite his simplicity and outward demeanour, and the games - the core and meat of the franchise, whether you like it or not - have consistently shown that when he's feeling particular strong emotions, he does it in his own way. Are you seriously going to tell me with a straight face that he wasn't cold to Erazor and then sympathetic with Shahra in Secret Rings, or sad when he seemingly lost his friends in Lost World, or when Emerl died in Battle? Fans demand for nuance, and yet they refuse to see it when it's there, in favor of shallow drama where everyone calls out their feelings like a Pokemon attack.

Also, Sonic gets back up in the face of adversary all the time. It's one of the most consistent displays of his resolve, with Black Knight being a famous example.

Also-also, while Sonic does have trouble with water, him having an outright fear of water is something that's only true in adaptations and mistranslations.

As for Forces... complaining about what in Forces? I genuinely don't know what you're referring to here. Do you mean the line about torture? Because I don't actually mind that line as much as most fans do, even if was a bit hamfisted in execution.

And spreading hate and rumors? How about you take that complaint to the people who are actually guilty of that? As in, the stans who stalk and send threats to people like myself who don't like the comic, and try to gaslight us? I've never done that once, no matter how passionately I've ranted about my issues with the comic.

But it's always us, isn't it? The people who actually engage in legitimately twisted and dangerous behaviour are allowed to do what they do, but the moment you explain on your own blog why a comic's character decisions don't work, oh no, THAT'S inexcusable.

If you're going to request that I silence my problematic Sonic thoughts like a good little subservient, the least you could do is pay attention to what I actually do and don't do. Your inability to tolerate the mere thought that someone isn't in love with what this comic has been doing with the characters ("stop making it seem like they're ruining Sonic's character") is not my problem.

#Crusher's Asks #Opinion #Anti-IDW Sonic #Oh look it's that anti tag that I already use

19 notes · View notes

marthawrites · 2 years

Note

thank you for reblogging my aemond fic and leaving such a nice and thoughtful comment. it truly means the world. i don't really have the same fanbase as some writers who have people coming into their ask box to talk about their writing or who get like thousands of notes on a fic, so little things like your reblog really mean a lot to me! thank you for taking the time to read it and i'm so happy you enjoyed it as well. thank you again!!!

-sin aka oldtowrs

It was my absolute pleasure! The way you wove all your sentences together to craft your rhythm and cadence was seriously soooo good I loved it so much!!

After I finished reading and feeling it I was gonna put my phone down and do something else, then I was like "PFFFT NO WAY I have to reblog this. HAVE TO." 🤩

And yes I'm right there in the same boat with you! Your ask is only the second I've got on this blog. Every single reglog, tag, and comment means so much to me too!

Thank you right back atcha! 🥰 Happy New Year dear!

2 notes · View notes

gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 35

(Master post)

(Insert excuse on why it took so long) (Insert comedic joke on why I didn't update sooner) (plea of trying better) (Heartfelt compliment on why all of you are awesome and patient)

Okay so now that we got that out of the way. But in all seriousness. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy.

If you do enjoy the fic, please Comment and reblog. Reblogs are like Gold on Tumblr and being a writer and posting to Tumblr is difficult. So every little bit helps.

Alright so now lets get to it.

_____________________________________________________________

The nurse heard the commotion going on in the halls. She knew that shortly after Chloé left, things outside the office became… restless. She turned off all the lights and locked the door to the nurse’s office. She did her best to stay quiet and not draw attention to the room. She knew those akuma were out there and she needed to focus on stabilizing her patient.

“I hope that Chloé managed to get that message out.” The nurse whispered to herself.

The woman felt weird pinning her hopes of escaping this place on a spoiled teenager, but at this point, beggars can’t be choosers.

She heard someone approach the door. The nurse felt her blood turn to ice. She refused to move a single inch. She hoped and prayed that the person would go away. She could hear the screams of students outside. She knew the akuma, whoever they were, were out there, and they were taking anyone they could find. Right now, all she could do was pray they don’t check.

“Please… for all that is good… let them leave.” She prayed under her breath.

After what felt like an eternity, she heard the sound of footsteps away from the door and everything returned to eerie silence.

She felt her essence sigh in relief.

She got up from the ground and went to go attend to the unconscious woman in the cot.

“Its strange for someone so young to be so exhausted… but then again, when I get into the line of work I am hoping for, it is likely I will be seeing a lot of cases like this.” Angela joked, trying to keep herself in good spirits. “Society is such a mess.”

Angela checked Nathalie’s pulse. It was present, but it felt off. It was weaker than she was expecting from someone of her age. Perhaps she has a much more serious medical condition. Angela would probably recommend that this woman see a professional when this is all said and done. Though for now, she was stable and calm, which was a very good sign.

The nurse considered that maybe she wasn’t getting an accurate reading, was something off with the assistant’s breathing? She would need to check. The nurse grabbed a stethoscope and moved closer, getting ready to check again.

“Ow!” She yelped as she felt something grab her arm. Nathalie had awaken and she had a firm grip on the woman's wrist.

“What are you doing!?” The surprised assistant exclaimed

“You're awake!? Oh, thank goodness.”

“Awake?”

“Yes, you passed out at a most stressful time. Right now, I recommend we keep our voices down.” The nurse hushed.

‘S***’

Nathalie mentally cursed to herself. She knew it had to be Masquerade. Her little episode resulted in her being far too late to get in and out without issue. She was planning on getting Adrien out of here before things went south.

She got up from the cot she had been laying in.

“Hold on a second.” Angela called out. “You need to stay and rest. I am glad you are conscious. But that sudden fainting spell could be indicative of…”

Nathalie did not have time for this. She gave an ice-cold glare at the nurse.

“If you intend on making me stay here, you will need to do so by force!”

The nurse felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. This woman’s eyes clearly showed intent on fighting. Angela was not a fighter, she helped people, not hurt them.

“You are my patient, and there is a lot of danger outside. You are in no condition to go out there.”

Nathalie had to respect the woman’s guts for standing up to her, despite the nurse’s knees shaking as she maintained eye contact.

“Okay, so how will we deal with the akuma breaking in then.”

“What!”

Angela turned her back to Nathalie, who took full advantage, giving the school nurse a fierce chop to the neck. Causing the nurse to drop like a sack of potatoes.

“Rest up.”

Nathalie put the nurse in the cot that she had previously been resting in.

“Seems I don’t have time to be subtle. Duusu.”

The blue Kwami popped out.

“Nathalie! Do you want to play?”

“Yes Duusu, the game is find Adrien and get out of here.”

“Horray!”

“Duusu! Spread my feathers!”

_____________________________________________________________

“Get down!” Ladybug dived into Chat noir, helping them both avoid the pause symbols and deadly bubbles headed their way. The akuma on both sides of them managed to avoid the incoming attacks they had sent towards the heroes.

“Thanks LB.” Chat noir thanked. “While you are the second person I want to be dancing with. We can't keep dodging forever. Even if their moves are predictable. Maybe those masks are the key to stopping them."

“Hardly a dance, its ettiquette for the boy to lead if it is. And I don't think so. Those masks appear to be unbreakable and impossible to remove” Ladybug said as she pulled her partner quickly back up, both noticing the akuma were ready for more.

“We still haven’t tried cataclysm.” Chat noir comments as he runs and jumps over a trashcan to avoid getting nailed by Bubbler’s attack bubbles.

“Right, but that would leave you exposed. Call it a hunch, but we will need to save it for later.” Ladybug responds as she jumps away and opens a door to block several pause symbols. "Besides, do you want to be mask-less at this Akuma calamity?"

“I was going to say it was more like a Masquerade ball. And no I would not."

Ladybug rolled her eyes at the lame joke, but still had a bit of a smile. Lightening the mood.

"Silly kitty"

"But seriously, we need a plan. If we can’t free them, what can we do?”

Ladybug focused for a moment. She noticed the way they were attacking, it was predictable and slow. Normally the akuma change up their attacks, or at least seem more aware of what the heroes are doing. The akuma were acting a lot more like controlled puppets. Much like when she had to deal with Puppeteer. Seems this akuma had some drawbacks that could be exploited. This was where Ladybug realized there was a way to deal with them.

“We disarm them. Break Bubbler’s wand and I will terminate Lady Wifi’s phone plan. Their reflexes are way more sluggish than usual. My bet is that having so many servants is starting to have a drain on the effectiveness of her forces. We just need to act quick.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.”

“On my mark we charge.”

Ladybug kept an eye on both akuma, after they sent a flurry of attack, they would usually have to take a moment to recharge. Bubbler would need to dip his wand back into his bubble pack and Lady wifi would have her hand cramp after sending 10 swipe symbols and would need to pull her hand back.

“Now!”

Chat noir and Ladybug both pounced at the two akuma, moving fast enough that their foes couldn’t retaliate as the heroes swiped the weapons from their respective wielders.

“Sorry to burst your bubble.” Chat noir joked as he snapped the bubble wand.

“And you’ve reached your data limit for the month.” Ladybug chimed in as she crushed Lady Wifi’s phone.

Both akuma began swinging their fists at the heroes, trying to turn the fight into a bare-knuckle brawl. But Ladybug’s assessment was correct, their attacks were too predictable. Ladybug caught Lady Wifi’s fist and flipped her over her shoulder to the ground.

Chat noir ducked under bubbler’s punch and slipped behind him. The cat used his staff to swipe at the feet of the forward moving akuma and knocked him mask first onto the floor.

“Alright, their disarmed. Now what?”

“Move him over here.”

Chat noir picks up the akuma by his bubble pack and throws him over to ladybug like a curling stone.Ladybug uses her yo-yo to tie the two dazed akuma back to back.

“Let’s put them somewhere where they won’t cause any trouble.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Next!” Masquerade called out in annoyance.

She had gotten her akuma servants to capture as many teachers and students as possible. She had the element of surprise and with the amount of akuma she had at her disposal, it was easy to capture several. Though she figured none would escape and cause panic, Timebreaker was guarding the parameter and kept her informed of any people she ‘Tagged’. Horrificator finished sealing all of the exits so no one would be able to come in or out.

She figured there was a good chance for adding more akuma to her rank. The problem was, most of the akuma sucked. She ended up developing a system for them. If they turned out to have no useful ability, she would humiliate them, have reflekta turn her into replicas of herself and then have Princess Frangrance spray the rejects to turn into obedient servants, this way she had something useful out of them. Make them get snacks or whatever. There were multiple uses for mind-controlled students and teachers. So far, she didn’t find a single one worthy of her time.

“I SAID NEXT!” Masquerade shouted louder.

Masquerade sized up the black-haired girl that one of the Reflekta duplicates had pushed forward. She recognized the shy smile from television. She was one of the weather girls on the KIDZ+ network. That was a contest Lila would have KILLED to have been a part of. She mentally told herself she would have won if she had entered.

“Your Mirelle aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes, please don’t hurt me.” She pleaded.

Masquerade rolled her eyes.

“Let’s, see what the deepest parts of your mind hold.”

“Stop!’

Masquerade stopped to turn to the person that shouted.

“Well, well, well, seems we have both weather girls that go to this school.” Masquerade commented. “What a coincidence.”

Masquerade’s eyes went to the honey blonde weather girl. The akuma had to respect the fierce glare the girl was giving her.

“Aurore don’t.” Mirelle tried to plea.

“Fragrance, shut her up.”

The perfume akuma moved from the wall and sprayed the shy weather girl.”

“No!”

Masquerade felt her bracelet glow, indicating that there was an akuma victim present.”

“So, stormy weather, does this rain on your parade?”

“Don’t call me that!” Aurore spat with disgust.

“That loss still bothers you. How the city voted and you were blown out of the water.”

“I know your trying to get under my skin, it won’t work.” Aurore said. “I’ve dealt with Chloé, and she is way meaner.”

Masquerade kept her smile.

“You’re right, that wouldn’t bother me. The comments by everyone else questioning why you are there would. All of those people wondering what the point of that vote was. So now you have to constantly push harder and harder to prove you deserve to be there with Mirelle. It has become your obsession; the way people perceive you. You need to be the perfect weather girl, with the good looks and the good grades. You can’t let anyone begin to doubt your ability.”

Aurore felt her heart shatter at the comment. It was like this akuma had reached into her chest and pulled her heart out. She could see her biggest fear.

“Shut up! I am good enough! You can’t tell me otherwise.”

Masquerade felt a twinge of annoyance, but a sinister idea came into her head. She touched the perfume bottle charm, her colors shifted to match the color scheme of the Perfume akuma.

“Mirelle, tell her what she needs to here.”

The controlled weather girl felt something intrude in her mind, for a brief second, she winced, before turning into a creepy smile.

“Mirelle?”

Aurore felt her skin crawl as she turned to see her coworker and friend staring at her, a creepy smile on her face.

“You aren’t good enough. You were never good enough. You tried so hard to be charming and cute, but the network thinks your redundant. They were going to get rid of you as soon as they could. I hear they are aiming for the end of the month.” She sing-songed.

Aurore dropped to her knees. Her confidence shattered. She broke down, tears streamed down her face. She covered her hands to cry. To hear her say those awful things, was it true? Was she gone? Was all her work for nothing?

Mirelle’s creepy forced smile stayed, but from the corner of her eye, a single tear began streaming down her cheek. Unbeknown to Aurore, Masquerade was using the controlled teen like a ventriloquist dummy.

“Excellent work.”

Masquerade shifted back to her original colors and grabbed a mask from her dress before she flung it right at the depressed weather girl. She took joy in watching it clamp onto her face like an alien face-hugger. There was a brief moment of struggle, but Aurore was no more. Stormy weather had taken her place. Masquerade laughed as a new charm appeared on her bracelet.

“Finally, some better servants. And these powers are no joke.”

Stormy weather raised her umbrella at Masquerade.

“Oh? Are you trying to resist?”

The akuma’s arm was shaking, but then dropped. Her body becoming inactive, like a toy robot with its batteries removed.

“And there goes the last of your resistance. Now go out and find Ladybug and Chat noir. Lady Wifi and Bubbler haven’t returned.”

Stormy weather nodded and headed out of the classroom.

Masquerade noticed the cowering captured students and took a moment to appreciate the power she wielded. Sure, she would have preferred to have been loved by the school, but being feared is a close second.

Her joy was cut short when something pinged into her mind.

Requirements met for new akuma. Confirm merge?

‘Merge?’

Masquerade tried to figure out what that meant. What was merging.

‘The components for the akuma Oblivio are now available, would you like to merge the two akuma to make new akuma?’

“Oblivio? I don’t remember an akuma by that name?” Masquerade said to herself. “Well, if two people are needed to make it and it is making something new, it must be good. Confirm!”

A new charm appears on her bracelet, one in the shape of a question mark.

"Creating Lady Wifi, Bubbler, Oblivio fusion.'

“I wonder what this will bring.”

_____________________________________________________________

Hawkmoth got felt a sudden shift in the mood of his akuma.

"So Lila found a way to merge akuma with multiple different forms into one. And now she is able to create a completely new akuma. Perhaps Ladybug and Chat noir have finally met there match."

The butterfly villain rubbed his hands smugly as he continued observing. Though part of him wondered if Nathalie was able to secure Adrien safely.

_____________________________________________________________

“Okay, these should work.” Chat noir exclaimed as he opened two empty lockers.

Ladybug removed her yo-yo that had tied the two akuma together and shoved the two of them inside each locker before slamming it shut.

“We need something to lock them in for a while.” Ladybug exclaimed as she held the doors closed. The akuma started trying to break free. Moving in any way they could to bust out.

Chat noir looked around, looking for something to shove in front of the lockers.

“Ugh, there is nothing to barricade them with!” Chat noir exclaims.

“Just seal the doors.”

“Right!”

Chat noir put his hand on the lockers where the doors would open, he focused all his strength into his hands and crunched doors by the lock, making it impossible to open in the conventional way.

“That should hold it.” Chat noir exclaimed with relief.

Ladybug slid down the door as resistance finally ceased.

“I think they realized they can’t escape.” Chat noir eased.

Ladybug got up from the floor. They give each other a fist bump on their success.

“Well thankfully that deals with two troublesome akuma. Now we need to get to Lila before we get overrun with them.”

The two heroes quickly leave the locker room.

"By the way, you mentioned earlier I was the second person you wanted to be dancing with. Who is the first?"

Chat noir felt a faint blush on his cheeks.

"How about we talk dances later." Chat noir dodged the question.

Both heroes hurrying down the hall to try and get to Masquerade.

But after they left, the lockers they had left the akumas in started to shake wildly…

_____________________________________________________________

“Heads up!” Viperion exclaimed as he pulled Ryuuko out of the Akuma’s range. The vanishing miracular was a far more difficult opponent then both reptilian heroes were expecting. The akuma vanishes just before Ryuuko could retaliate.

“Every time we lose sight of her, she vanishes and I can’t get a clean hit!” Ryuuko grumbles.

Viperion looks around frantically.

“Yes, but I do believe we have some interesting intel. The akuma seems unable to use both her powers at the same time. She needs to turn visible in order to try and attack us with those Tonfa of hers” The snake hero explains

Ryuuko backs up, looking around to see if she can notice anything that could help her locate the sneaky servant.

“And whatever its other power is seems to involve using those Tonfa. Call it a hunch but we can’t let her use it on us.” Ryuuko discussed her instinctual feeling.

“Guard my back, she can’t sneak up on us if our backs are covered.” Viperion instructs. “Her strategy is very straight forward. We just need to wait for an opening”

“Got it.” Ryuuko says just as she notices something from the corner of her eye. “There you are.”

Ryuuko makes a charge at what appeared to be a wall, but her sword contacted Miracular’s tonfa. Forcing her visible again.

Viperion took noticed of the poor stance that Miracular had while blocking Ryuuko. He wasn’t an expert but even he could see that an unexpected hit would knock her off her feet.

He threw his lyre right at the akuma’s knees and made contact, the force causing her to buckle and Ryuuko disarmed the akuma by parrying her tonfa.

Viperion caught the weapons and broke them over his knee.

“Well that takes care of her weapons.”

Ryuuko noticed the akuma tried to get away but she dove tackled her before she could turn visable.

“Nice work. But what are we going to do to stop her from getting in the way?” Viperion inquired.

Ryuuko band the akuma's face repeatedly against the floor in order to break the mask. Sadly there was not even a scratch on it.

"Well this mask is durable. Might need to lock her somewhere."

The snake hero thought for a moment. he remembered back to a previous akuma attack. Chat noir had put him in a locker to be safe. He still remembered the playful wink the cat gave.

"Any ideas Viper piper?" Ryuuko inquired as she maintained her hold on the akuma.

"Huh? Oh right. Why not take to the locker room and throw her into a locker. She isn't super strong so we could easily just toss her in and lock it. Also, what is with the nickname?"

"I heard that giving people nicknames helps endear people to you."

"Okay, well you can keep trying, but I don't play pipes. What other ones do you have."

"... That was the only one I had... Ill try and come up with more as we go."

"Looking forward to it ... Dra-girl"

Ryuuko paused to look at him as she stood up with the akuma.

"Yea... It felt wrong as soon as I said it. Lets just go."

_____________________________________________________________

Chloé had given most of the akuma she encountered the slip. Not from expert hiding of fighting skill, she simply walked passed them. A normal individual would realize how amazing it was that as long as you don’t freak out, the akuma basically don’t notice. But to Chloé, it felt insulting. Did the akuma seriously believe she was not worth chasing?

“Un-be-lievable.” Chloé huffed. “Most of these akuma would have been chasing me like crazy by now.”

She grumbled to herself as she made it to the front entrance, which she realized had been slimed on.

“EWW, they got that nasty slime monster on their side.”

The mayor’s daughter felt a mix of disgust and annoyance. With this door sealed, she would need to get to one of the other exits, on the other side of the school.

“This would be a really good time for Ladybug to show up and let me be Queen bee.” Chloé stated aloud.

But the area she was in was practically empty.

“Figures.” Chloé sighed. “Why do these gross rejects always have to make things so annoying!”

Unfortunately for her, her complaints did attract some attention from a group of Reflekta copies roaming the halls.

“We order you to come with us!” The three reflektas sang in unison. Chloé didn’t know or care if the original was among them.

“How about no.” Chloé scoffed. She pushed one of them down and walked past them. The other two rushed to her to capture her. But Chloé easily knocked both of the reflektas down easy. The servants were not use to walking in heels. They may be controlled, but Chloé can tell when an amateur walking in gaudy heels from a mile away.

“You 3 need to learn how to walk and a lesson on fashion before you can even THINK of taking me hostage.” Chloé flipped her hair and smugly continued walking, as the three reflektas tried to get up.

Hidden from view, hiding in what appeared to be an abandoned janitor’s cleaning cart, an old man popped his head out slightly.

“Ladybug does need all the help she could get right now…But would she be the right choice?”

_____________________________________________________________ (End of Part 36.)

What other akuma will be joining Masquerade's ranks?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to face the old and new threats?

Will Mayura cause more problems or solve em?

Also, what do you think this new akuma fusion will look like?

I would love to see your takes.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ml soulmate survey #soulmate survey #ml fic #ml fanfic #miraculous fanfic #ss fic #ml au #slight lukagami #chloé bourgeois #masquerade akuma #fan akuma #drama #action #new akuma #ladynoig #ladybug #chat noir

495 notes · View notes

syms-things-5 · 2 years

Text

Touch & Go - Chapter Fourteen (Finale)

Previous Chapter Here / Masterlist Here

Series Summary: Ten months after leaving Boston, Sarah’s starting over again in Nashua. A new apartment, a new hospital, and closer to her parents, she’s finally finding some peace following her ill-advised affair with her best friend’s brother. But Sarah should have known it would only be a matter of time before the past catches up with her.

Warnings: Strong and suggestive language

Tags: @ppal3 @bookwormchick91 @redhairedfeistynerd @memoriesat30 @patzammit @before-we-get-started

And so, here it is, the final chapter of this series. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thank you for all of your support; it kept me going when I nearly gave up a couple of times. I really, truly appreciate every single like, reblog, DM’d message and comment that you have given me over the past year or so, and I’m so happy you stuck with it and with me xxx

Chapter Fourteen

“You think we’re crazy, don’t you?”

Scott looks to the ceiling as he works his mind through a serious of responses that might give Chris the encouragement and support that he seemed to be looking for. It was nearly seven in the evening, the sun was low in the sky, and neither of them had the energy to get up and make some food.

“No, I think you’re in love although there isn’t much of a difference to be fair.” he muses. “So, how is this gonna play out exactly? What timeframe are you guys looking at?”

“Um…”

Chris didn’t have those answers. Neither he nor Sarah had thought much beyond the ‘oh wow how amazing is this going to be!?’ phase that comes along with deciding you’re going to move in with someone. There were nerves of course but that all seemed to ebb away as soon as they started thinking about what the future could hold for them both. The thought of picking out china patterns really did something to him apparently. In a good way.

It had been a few weeks since they had decided to take the plunge. Surprisingly, they had both found a quiet eagerness to tell most people despite them both initially agreeing to keep things quiet, at least just until they knew for sure that it was definitely happening. For Chris, though, “people” didn’t always include Scott so he ended up knowing almost straight away, and Sarah had found Audrey was just scarily prescient at guessing things, so she knew pretty soon afterwards as well. Chris was almost certain she and Scott were now talking to each other on a daily basis. His suspicions were confirmed when he spied Scott buying baby toys online.

They were met with a lot of different reactions, the majority of them positive, thankfully, or at least that was how Sarah had chosen to take them at the time. There were definite variations of surprise and shock and Seriously? You??

That had been Chris’ fault. He had always been vocal about wanting to remain in Massachusetts, so steadfast was he to maintaining some semblance of normality in the face of what he had chosen to pursue as a career. Also, he wasn’t exactly known for his commitment so he had to answer some tough questions about that as well. He really didn’t enjoy having this pointed out to him multiple times in the same 24-hour period either.

“But you hate everywhere else.” Was one such helpful comment curtesy of Brian, an old pal from high school who had just moved back to the area after a decade of living in Canada. “And there’s, like, other people there. People who you don’t know.”

“Is there a Dunkin’ nearby? ‘Cos you’re gonna be fuckin’ unbearable if there isn’t one.” Came Mark’s contribution.

It was so nice that his friends were thinking of the bigger picture, Chris thought to himself as he lay on his sofa, beer in hand, this Thursday evening. Scott had ventured over to borrow something but that had been forgotten about and it was now three hours later and they could both feel hangovers slowly coming on.

“They’re just guys, you know?” Scott offered. “It’s how they deal with stuff, like, joking around about it. They’ll probably miss you once you’re gone.”

“Probably?!”

“Obviously they will miss you, we all will, but it’s not like you’re moving to another country, or Alaska or some shit.”

“I know you’re right, it’s just…” He waved his hand above him to try and conjure up the right words but nothing came to mind. “I know they’re happy for me and everything, I just didn’t realise I was so predictable and mundane. Mom said I’m not spontaneous so she was surprised but I think I’m spontaneous, right? Scott? I’ve done impulsive shit before.”

“I don’t think buying a different brand of beer counts as impulsive. Buying a house in a different State? Yeh, I’d say you’ve definitely proven them wrong this time.”

“And,” Chris leans up, swinging his legs off the side of the sofa so he’s sitting upright. “I’m gonna do lots of spontaneous shit from now on. I’m gonna really surprise folks, make that my new thing. That’s gonna be my new opera.”

“Modus operandi?”

“Yes! That’s the shit. Definitely.” He pointed defiantly at Scott. “In fact, I’m gonna call Sarah right now and tell her.”

“Won’t that defeat the object?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna tell her so she can prepare herself.”

“Prepare herself for spontaneity? OK, cool, makes sense.”

Chris dismisses his brother with a wave of his hand and staggers off to the kitchen to grab his phone. He holds it tightly like he might drop it and squints at the numbers until they make sense so he can safely locate the profile for ‘Bernette’. Carefully, he presses the call button and sways unsteadily on his feet until, after a few rings, she answers.

“Hey! What’s up?” comes the sweet reply and he melts a little at her soft tone. She’s always happy to hear from him no matter the time of the day or night, and it never fails to make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Admittedly, though, the alcohol may be doing some of the heavy lifting on this occasion.

“Ohhh…” Is all he can manage at first. “You’re so lovely, do you know that?”

She laughs as she realises what’s going on. “I do, thank you. You tell me that a lot.”

“Well, good! Someone should and I’m very glad it’s me.”

“What’s up, Chris?” She asks again, trying to hide her obvious giggling.

“Oh yeh! So, I just wanted to say that Scott and I have been talking and we both think it’s time that I did some really surprising stuff, you know? Like, die my hair blue or…go sky-diving! Like, why don’t we go sky-diving next week?!” Chris is pretty sure he’s just had the best idea of all time. “OH MY GOD it’d be so much fun, Sarah! I did it once before but I had my eyes closed the entire time.”

“Err I’m going to take a pass on that, buddy, thank you, and I think you should, too. Isn’t there something in your contract that stops you from doing stuff like that before a shoot? Like, hazardous pursuits or something?”

He rolls his eyes to the top of his head as he tries to locate the memory of some upcoming work. Something blurry comes into focus but he quickly shakes it out and replaces it with a memory of Sarah instead. He smiles softly to himself and Scott looks confused when he sees him.

“Hi Sarah!” Scott yells from the other side of the counter as he opens the fridge to retrieve another bottle of beer.

“Oh hey! Tell him I said hi.” Sarah tells Chris on the other end of the line.

“She says ‘fuck you’” Chris grins, far too proud of himself, and Scott flips him his middle finger before walking out of the kitchen again.

“Oh, that is not what I said at all but OK, I’m gonna leave you guys to it. Maybe call me in the morning when you’re a little more sober, yeh?” She suggests with a chuckle and is about to hang up until Chris stops her.

“Wait, wait, wait…I just wanted to say I am so happy we are doing this. I mean it. It’s gonna be so freakin’ awesome.” He sways a little more on his feet, tears starting to prickle at the corners of his eyes. “I’m gonna learn to cook and we’re gonna garden and build birdhouses together.”

She smiles, both at the likelihood of him never remembering this conversation ever again and at the utter pile of sopping wet cuteness he becomes when he’s drunk a little too much. He could be so ridiculously lovable sometimes; it made her heart skip a beat.

“And then we’re gonna have sex in every room of the house.” He says, boldly.

“Get a room!” Scott’s loud addition came barrelling down the line as clear as daylight causing Sarah to rub her brow in mild embarrassment, and she wasn’t even in the same room as the pair of idiots.

“We will, Scott! We’ve got like, twenty, of ‘em now!” Chris yells back causing Sarah to swiftly jerk the phone away from her ear. “Anyway, where was I? Oh yeh, the sex is gonna be amazing, and-”

“-As romantic as I am sure this is about to be,” She interrupts him again. “Let’s save this for another time, yeh?”

“Ohhh….” He winks at her even though she can’t see him, and clicks his tongue. “Gotcha.”

As hard as it was for Sarah to finally get him to stop talking over her, they eventually ended the call. Or at least she did; he just sort of trailed off like he usually did when he was on the wrong side of sober and she became convinced he’d forgotten to put the phone down.

Chris was left staring at her name and photo on his phone screen. He rubbed his eye free of the tears that had formed and the tiredness that had made an unwelcome appearance in his beer-addled brain.

“So, has she dumped you yet?” Scott asks when he, again, appears in the doorway. “Oh my god, why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying, I’m just…” He thinks for a second, still looking at her photograph on his phone. “I think this is what happiness is.”

The sale of the house was deceptively easy all things considered. Sarah figured it was because of the money. Money can get you anywhere you want to go faster than a blink of an eye. The more zeroes that appear on a cheque, the easier it is to make things work. That was, apparently, a rule of life she had learned, albeit rather reluctantly.

She had learned it from the early days of working in private hospitals where she would routinely witness the more well-off folk try and pay their way to the front of long queues. Queues for knee replacements, queues for personal medications, queues for transplants… You name it, everything had its price and it was a fact that made her feel rather despondent. After a while, she decided to cut her losses and seek work in the public sector instead. It wasn’t easier but it felt fairer at least, ironically.

So, that was that.

Chris texted her a simple “Done x” one afternoon while she was getting changed into her normal clothes so she could walk home following the end of her shift. She felt shaky on the ground, her feet feeling alien to the rest of her body, a light-headedness filling her brain seemingly out of nowhere. She didn’t know what to say back to him but she knew she had to say something at least. He’d just paid an extraordinary amount of money and was uprooting his entire life for her. Something would be better than nothing, but nothing was all she had.

Audrey 17.02pm: Wow that was fast!

Audrey 17.03pm: Congrats!! We’ll need to celebrate soon. I can finally drink wine from this Sunday…… xx

Sarah sat on the bench in front of her locker, her phone in her hand as she rested her elbows on her knees. She took a deep breath and opened Chris’ message again. It wasn’t like she had misread it or anything.

Sarah 17.11pm: Thank you x

She regretted it as soon as she had sent it but didn’t have time to correct it or build on it before Chris’ quick response pinged in her hands.

Chris 17.11pm: You’re welcome roomie x

He likely knew she was stuck for what to say and the fact he knew that caused tears to fill her eyes until she couldn’t quite make out the screen anymore.

There was a lot she needed to do, a lot she needed to get organised, but that was all practical stuff. It was stuff to be added to a list, to be put into boxes or to be donated. It was emails she had to send to people, companies she had to let know about a change of address, notice she had to provide the hospital with now she could definitively tell them she was leaving and, most likely, leaving soon. It was people she hadn’t told yet.

Like her mother.

Chris 17.22pm: Will call later. Just driving. Love you x

She took a deep breath and packed her bag before leaving the locker room. She passed by a couple of her colleagues and exchanged rather cheerful goodbyes. It was all so melodramatic, she thought to herself as she vacated the ambulance bay before turning down the street. It wasn’t like she was about to turn around and say her very last goodbye, but it felt like that was what was about to happen. It was silly.

She grabbed a small tub of ice cream on the way home and waited for Chris to call her. As if sensing she was ready for him, the phone rang a little after 6.20pm.

“Sooo?” He posed, playfully. “Cool, right? We’re gonna be roommates.”

“God, yeh.” She dug the spoon deep into the ice cream so it could hold it for a second while she adjusted herself into a more comfortable position on her couch. “Crazy how fast these things can move.”

Chris was quiet for a second longer than was comfortable. “But that’s good, right? I mean, it’s done, the thing we wanted?”

“Absolutely! I’m just…” She couldn’t put into words what she was trying to say and he wasn’t there to watch her body language, which was highly inconsiderate of him. “It’s awesome. I don’t know what to say.”

She could hear him move around as he made himself comfortable on his sofa. Something clunked on the floor and she realised he was taking his shoes off.

“You know you’re gonna have to tell Joss, right? It’s gonna be hella awkward if we bump into her in the supermarket.” He pretended like he was finding all of this amusing but she could tell there was a definite undertone of concern and, probably, annoyance.

“I know. I’m gonna call her this evening, I promise. At least knowing it’s all done means she has no choice in the matter now and she can’t mither me about it.”

God, that sounded depressing, she thought to herself.

“You think she will? Be cross about it, I mean.”

“No, I’m probably being unfair towards her. But I’ll need to come up with some clever way of telling her we’re doing it ‘cos we love the scenery or the schools or something.”

“Schools, eh?” He joked and she can picture the exact look on his face as he says it, slightly playful and frisky. How she wished she was with him right now so he could do that thing where he hugs her tightly to his chest and all her anxieties fade away into nothingness while they watch Arrested Development.

“OK, no, not schools, let’s not give her a panic attack just yet.” Sarah says.

“Just tell her I’m a big fan of their football team or something.” Chris shrugs.

“They don’t have one.”

“I…what?” He stopped dead. “How can they not have their own NFL team?!”

“I don’t know, they just don’t.” She says, a mouth full of ice cream. “I thought you knew this already?”

“Er, no! I sorta thought they might just be a bit crap or something so no one ever mentioned them.” He seemed genuinely surprised by this seemingly brand-new information. “I mean, this changes everything, Bernette. I can’t be seen to live in a football-free town. I have a reputation to maintain.”

He’s glad to hear her laughing again.

“This is weird. I should be there with you.” He says, quietly turning serious. He didn’t want to crack jokes; he wanted to talk about living together and all the nice things they could do with their time. Nice, comforting, possibly energetic things.

“Well, we’ll have a lot of that soon enough. You’ll be sick of seeing me before long so get your personal guy-time in now while you can.”

“It’s so cute how you think that I am ever going to get sick of you. I think you’re kinda stuck with me now, you know?”

“Really?”

“Hmm.”

They stay on the phone for a little while longer, long enough for Sarah to eat halfway down the tub of ice cream before she feels bad for not eating a proper dinner first. Chris was entirely supportive of her decision, however. Likely a sign of things to come, he said. He’d fill a whole fridge with enough ice cream for the both of them if they wanted. Any and all flavours.

Ah fuck it, she thinks. She’s a grown-up. She can do whatever the hell she likes, including choosing where to live with her boyfriend and not have to feel edgy about telling her mother.

So, she tried her hardest to calm her nerves down as she settled back on her couch an hour or so later. The sugar high slowly creeping into her bloodstream was causing her pulse to beat a little more and it was not at all helping her maintain a steady sense of rhythm, physical and otherwise. No matter what ideas Chris gave her, she still wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of telling her mother that she, a grown-ass woman, was finally moving in with her boyfriend. Even reminding her of how much she like Chris didn’t seem like the right way to go. Maybe all of this semi-reluctance was a result of left-over guilt from a childhood where she occasionally strayed out of the lines and had spent years trying to make up for it by doing a “proper”, respectful job that she and Noah had both been insanely proud of.

It wasn’t going to help matters now, though. The more she sat looking at her phone, her finger hovering over the green ‘call’ button just below a photo of Jocelyn, the sillier she felt.

What was the worse that was going to happen?

“Sarah, why? I’m not a child. I can look after myself.”

Oh yeh. That.

“I’m not saying that, mom” She tried to calm Jocelyn down. “We both want to do it. It’d be a nice change for the pair of us and Chris loves the area.”

She could hear her mother’s eye roll from across the state line. She would have done the same, truth be told.

“Oh, I am just sure Christopher wants to move to a random part of the country where he knows no one and is even further away from where he works, Sarah.” She spoke, dripping her words in sarcasm like only she knew how. “You think I’m an idiot but I see what you are both doing. I don’t need you to babysit me. I am fine. I promise you; I am OK.”

Jocelyn attempted to soften those last few words, perhaps realising she was being a little harsh, but not soft enough to let Sarah think she would be in any way OK or accepting enough of this decision any time soon.

“Oh, mom…” Sarah sighed again as was the theme for this conversation, her head looking down to her lap. She should have had this conversation in person. “I thought you’d like having us closer. And it’s not further away for him either. He can work anywhere, and he probably will do, too. He could live in the Arctic Circle if he wanted to.”

“That’s ridiculous. The wifi would be atrocious. He’d never get his emails all the way up there.”

Now it was Sarah’s turn to roll her eyes.

“I was speaking with hyperbole but OK.” She said. “Point still stands, he can live and work wherever he wants to. It makes no difference to him.”

“The difference is he would be leaving his family. What about them? What do they think? And what about your job come to think of it?”

“Well, I’ll…”

Sarah didn’t have a definitive answer for that right this minute but she would do, eventually, if her mother would just give her a goddamn minute. If there was one thing Jocelyn was very accomplished at, it was firing off blunt questions to undo someone’s argument. Sarah had lived with it as a teenager when she would attempt to sneak back into the house after a party. It didn’t have to be family either, though; she witnessed her do it with a stranger in a “MAGA” cap she had once seen sitting in a restaurant. Sarah could have almost felt a little sorry for the guy if, you know, he hadn’t turned out to be such a massive racist.

“I haven’t thought about that yet but I transferred to Nashua before so I think I can transfer again if I want to. They’re crying out for nurses all over the place.”

Sarah wasn’t 100% sure if that was accurate but it sounded about right. It was passable. Jocelyn seemed to accept it anyhow.

“But Chris’ family?” She pressed again. “They can’t be over the moon about this.”

“Actually, they have all been really supportive. Lisa’s really happy. Surprised, but happy.”

“Have you heard that from them directly? Or is it just what Chris has said to you? Do you think he would likely say that to protect your feelings?”

“I…” Oh for God’s sake. “No, he wouldn’t just say that and we’re within driving distance anyway so it’s not like we’ll never see them. Honestly, mom, you’re acting like you live in the middle of the ocean or something when you’re literally only a couple of hours away. Lisa’s even said she’d love to come and visit the area next week and maybe catch up with you or something.”

“I just don’t want him feeling like he’s trapped.” Jocelyn had clearly chosen not to hear the nice thing Sarah had just mentioned.

“Why would he feel trapped? This was his idea…”

Jocelyn went silent on the end of the line. Sarah could no longer even hear her breathing.

“Mom?” She chanced it after a minute. “You alright?”

Yet again, silence. She heard what she thought was Jocelyn breathing in and out through her nose like she was doing yoga but likely she was just steeling herself for what to say.

“So, which area are you guys looking at?” Came her rather tempered response.

“Um…” Sarah wasn’t actually prepared for that question but hopefully it would steer the conversation into more pleasing territory. For now, at least. “Well, we’ve sort of found somewhere near Vinalhaven as it happens. Just over the coastline.”

“Oh, right.” Jocelyn seemed a little more interested now but didn’t want Sarah to know that just yet. “It’s very nice around there.”

“Yes, Chris thought so, too. Lots of private spaces and he’s always been into boats so he hopes it might finally push him into sailing.”

Jocelyn chuckled, fondly. “It’s a shame Noah didn’t get to spend more time with him. I think they would have had shared some good beers on his boat.”

Sarah smiled. If nothing else, they could both agree on that.

Night shifts weren’t the best but on occasion, if the gods were smiling down on them all, they could provide a sweet little opportunity to catch up with some life admin. Or a game of Words-With-Friends that she had going on with an old college pal who now lived in a different time zone.

That night was one such night and Sarah found herself sitting alone in the canteen on the 7th floor, in the far corner near the door to the secret balcony few people were aware of. The door looked like a Fire Exit except the alarm had been deactivated years earlier following an inspection, and was now used as a all-too-literal escape for when you needed five minutes peace.

She sat there quietly for twenty minutes, playing a couple of rounds of the game and flipping through some photos of Benji that Audrey had sent earlier that day. The coffee in front of her was now cold and far too sweet but she would still drink it. The place was empty except for Raffey who was cleaning up around her and mopping the floor in time for the day staff to take over.

Something clinked in the near distance that spurred her from her relative tranquility, and she clocked the time on her watch. 3.05am. It should be illegal to be working this late. Or early. She didn’t know which it qualified as.

She had always felt that there was a portion of the night shift, somewhere between 3am and 5am, that should have its own name for how utterly and ridiculously weird it felt. It was too late for the drunken antics to stumble through the front doors, but too early for people to start having innocent accidents around their own homes. It was just…nothingness.

“Night Sarah.” Came Raffey’s tired drawl.

She turned in time to catch him placing the mop back in the cleaner’s cupboard and wave a half-hearted hand in her direction.

“Night Raff. Get home safe.”

Some of the motion-sensor lights eventually darkened down giving the place a more serene and peaceful ambiance. The light from her phone was the brightest thing in the entire place now. It was only serving to make her feel sleepier, though, but she didn’t have the energy to move quite yet. There wasn’t nothing going on downstairs thankfully, but up here she could take her break in peace without feeling guilty that she wasn’t doing more to help on her scheduled break.

“You want some company?” Came a familiar voice from the shadows.

Sarah looked up in time to find Chris casually leaning against a conical pillar, his car keys dangling between his fingers. She smiles at him briefly before turning back to her phone on the table.

“I told you not to come.”

“Yeh, but when have I ever done what you told me to?” He said, playfully scrunching his nose up at her as he moves closer to where she is sat. He pulls out the chair across the table from her. “Why break the habit of a lifetime?”

“That’s not healthy, you know, doing the opposite thing all the time. It doesn’t bode well for us. I’m gonna have to try reverse psychology or something.”

He slid down into the uncomfortable plastic chair and yawned a little. She noticed it immediately and flicked her fingernails at her half-empty cup, inviting him to take a sip. He took it, gladly. He’d grown to like cold brews now, cups of tea or coffee that had been steeped in their own flavours for far too long.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way, pal.” He said, winking as much as his tired eyes would allow him. “This way, you get to say what you think you should say while still getting the thing you so obviously want but seem to insist on denying yourself.”

Maybe it was the sheer exhaustion at this point of the week, or maybe she didn’t hear him correctly, but he really did know her better than she knew herself.

“See?” He interrupted her thoughts as if on cue and waggled his finger between the pair of them. “It works this, you and me.”

She chose to ignore his comments instead focussing on his faintly watery eyes. “You look shattered.”

“Nah, I’ll be fine.” He shakes off her comment almost as quickly as she made it, before taking another sip of her coffee. “How long you got left?”

She looked at her watch and sighed, defeated.

“About four hours.” She said. “You’re not gonna stay, are you? I don’t think I can hide you anywhere for too long unless you want to hang out in the mortuary.”

Chris ponders that a second longer than she expected him to, and is relieved when she sees him shake his head.

“I’ll be fine.” He says. “I’ll head over to yours and come get you when you’re done.”

She smiles, gratefully. More than grateful, truth be told. It seems it’s pretty much just him and pictures of her friend’s baby that only serve to make her feel even remotely light and breezy these days. That and YouTube videos of dogs that get shared around her team.

“Don’t worry about it, if you fall asleep. It will only take me twenty minutes to get back home.”

“No way, I’m not that tired. I won’t fall asleep until you’re home again. I still want some attention, too, you know.” He smiles sleepily at her before yawning once more and it almost sets her off. “I got something for you by the way.”

He leans to one side so he can dive his hand into the pocket of his suede jacket and fish something out that is completely hidden from her view. From the awkward look on his face, it’s not a small thing but she is pleasantly surprised when he places a small, plastic container in front of her.

She raises an eyebrow curiously at him and is gifted with a sheepish smile in return. Upon tugging at the plastic ribbon and opening the tub, she’s greeted with a small, round cupcake. It’s decorated with a glittery white frosting that pretty much doubles the height of the sweet treat, and what she soon realises is an iced image of a house, cartoonish almost in its appearance.

“I had to stop for gas and I saw it in their display. Probably tastes awful…” He shrugs it off like it’s nothing. “But I thought it was cute. I just realised I hadn’t bought you a gift as like a ‘Congratulations’ or whatever and apparently, Mom says, I should do that.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle as she squints a little at the iced picture on top. She’s momentarily quiet before she meets his eyes again and mouths a ‘thank you’.

“I don’t have anything for you.”

“Well, if you want to bring some waffles home when you’re done, I won’t stop you.” He chuckles, a winsome look on his face as he regards her holding the cupcake in its casing and tracing her finger over the icing. “You could keep that, y’know. There’s probably enough sugar in it to preserve it for centuries.”

Instead, she swipes her index finger across the top and finds the icing softer than it looks. Taking a lick off her finger, he laughs at her.

“Or that. That’s also cool.” He laughs again.

He watches as she laughs also, ridiculous cupcake in her hand. He holds his hand out to her and she takes it, tying their fingers together.

“You’re so cute.” He says. “This is gonna be fun.”

#chris evans #chris evans fic #evans fic #fanfic #touch & go #Fractured #chris evans x original female character #au #chris fic #fanfiction #writing #chris evans fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

stealing-jasons-job · 4 years

Text

Dear fanfic readers...

I want to start this by saying I love you all. Seriously. I honestly wouldn’t still be writing fanfic if you guys didn’t exist. And I think that’s probably true of a lot of writers. We thrive on readers enjoying our work, leaving kudos/comments, reblogging, sharing with friends, etc. And 99% of people who read/comment don’t fall into this category.

But I have to address something. Er, I have to address a few somethings. Tonight, one of my dear friends received a nasty comment on one of their fics. It was, frankly, a mean rant disagreeing about the choices said writer made in the chapter update. But what really struck me was what they said at the end of the comment—that they admire the author’s work and that they are excited about future chapters. Which to me, meant that they meant their comment as a constructive criticism rather than to be purposefully hateful.

Which leads me to my first “something”:

Long comments about things you personally disagree with in a story is not constructive criticism.

I say this as someone who gives actual constructive criticism to writers for a living. Calling someone’s work horrible or hollow or misguided or flat or [insert long list of other adjectives I’ve seen non-writers call someone’s work] isn’t constructive criticism. It’s not constructive. It’s just mean.

Moreover, constructive criticism has to be founded on mutual trust. If you’re commenting on ao3 or Tumblr or Twitter on someone’s work who did not ask you specifically for constructive criticism, that trust isn’t there.

You’re welcome to your opinions about someone’s story or work. But you are not welcome to share those negative opinions when you don’t have consent. Even when you DO have consent, that constructive criticism needs to be well-structured to include real reasons why something isn’t working in a story (”I don’t personally agree with this choice” is not an example of a real reason) and ways to improve. That respect is the very least a writer deserves when someone is asked (notice how I bolded asked, bc it’s fucking important) to give feedback on work that they spent time and effort on. Which leads me to my next “something”:

Fanfic is provided for free, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t cost something.

I saw a post on here recently (linked here) that talked about how fanfic is provided at no cost to the reader, but that doesn’t mean it’s “free” for the writer. And this is something I think some non-writers don’t quite understand.

Writing a story—whether it be based on characters from a TV show like this fic or based on original characters of your own creation—is a lot of fucking work. It takes hours of your time and so much mental energy. There's the planning and the plotting and the actual writing and the editing and the working up the nerve to post it so that others can see it and hopefully like it. And all of that labor, all of that emotional/mental/physical labor is done for free. So that the stories in our heads and hearts can exist and so that readers can enjoy them.

EVERY choice is thought out. Every. Single. One. Every conversation is considered, every dialogue tag is placed with intention, every choice the character makes is one we make first. And do we always agree with the choices our characters make? Do these choices always perfectly mirror what would likely happen in real life or even if another write were to have written the story? No, not always. But damn if we didn't have a reason for letting them make them regardless. Every facet of a story is considered—especially for longer fics.

So hours of work and a mountain of emotional, mental, and physical energy is put into a fic. Writers open up a door for readers to see into our minds and hearts and souls for these stories. And the very least readers can do is tell us when those stories resonates, and be kind and respectful regardless of if it resonates or not. Deciding to shit on a story because you don't personally agree with the direction the story is headed? That's heartbreaking. And irritating. And frankly unmotivating.

Which brings me to my final “something” of this post:

Negativity and indifference are killing Fandom.

We’ve all seen how Fandom (and I’m not just talking about one specific fandom, I’m talking about capital-F Fandom as a whole) has gone downhill in recent years. There’s less engagement with works, less discussion happening between readers/creators/writers/casual viewers of a fandom, and more writers/creators leaving Fandom behind.

That’s mostly because of negativity and indifference. There are a lot of posts about how people (and I include myself in this because I really need to do better, and I’ve been trying) need to make a mindful effort to comment on fics you like, kudos fics you like, reblog, retweet, converse with your favorite writers/creators, etc. So I won’t harp on that again here.

But negativity is another culprit here. Putting a fic or a piece of art out into the world is terrifying. More terrifying to some than others, but there are nerves and anxieties that go into it no matter who you are. And unlike paid authors publishing books or showrunners air tv shows, the only thing we get in return are the kudos/comments/reblogs/retweets from readers. That’s it. So when we put hours of time and effort and those little pieces of our soul into works only to be met with indifference or hateful comments (even when they are misguided attempts at constructive criticism), it makes the benefit of all that work less and less appealing.

I’ve seen too many writers abandon works and leave fandoms (including t100 fandom, specifically the bellarke fandom) because of this. And I hate it. We have too many talented writers and creators for that. Moreover, the world needs those talented writers and creators to keep making things they love for it to keep spinning (a topic for another long Tumblr post).

So how can Fandom be a better place for writers/creators?

First thing’s first, participate. See a piece of art you loved? Reblog it. Read a fic you adored? Comment something to that effect. Find authors or creators you admire? Reach out to say hey! Or just hit the follow button and interact with posts if you’d rather not say hi. We appreciate all of it and love you immensely for it.

But the kicker once you start participating is doing it mindfully. Think about what you’re commenting and whether it’s helpful or harmful. A long string of emojis bc you can’t put how much you loved a fic into words? We love to see it. Novel-length tags in your reblogs about your favorite lines? Will probably make our day. DMs or asks about upcoming chapters or fic ideas? We’ll scream our joy and talk your ear off.

A rant about how you thought the characterization of Bellamy in this fic was off? That’s not helpful if the writer didn’t ask you specifically for that kind of feedback. And hateful comments about how a fic needs to be updated sooner or how a certain update didn’t mean your qualifications for how you personally wanted a story to continue? Definitely not helpful (and a honestly a dick move).

I have no qualms about speaking on behalf of all fanfic writers when I say that we LOVE every single person who reads our shit. We thrive on people reading our stories and then telling us and their followers how much they loved it. No (kind) comment goes unnoticed or unappreciated.

So please, please, please spread kindness whenever you can to writers and creators. <3

All my love,

A fanfic writer who is terrified that negativity is going to drive all my fandom friends away, and who might get carpal tunnel if I have to write another novel-length rebuttal to someone being an ass on AO3 to one of my friends

#fandom #the 100 fandom #fanfiction #for the love of god be kind to writers/creators #this was long but like it needed to be said #so no regrets #y'all read 100k fics on the reg so y'all can read this lol #to all the readers who comment and kudos and share their fics #I LOVE YOU

323 notes · View notes

allhailthewicked · 3 years

Text

Random JATP Headcannon: The Wilson’s and Street Food

Do you ever think about how after the boy’s death Bobby was probably extremely weary of all take-out, street food, and basically all food that he can’t see how it is prepared? Because I do! SO I decided to write a headcannon about it.

I mean my man watched his three brothers die a horribly painful death because they wanted to have a quick bite to eat. Don’t think about how he was probably the person who found them dying from food poisoning, in excruciating pain probably scared out of their goddamn minds. Don’t think about him clutching their bodies sobbing. Don’t think about how Bobby 100% most definitely didn’t eat anything for the next few days after the guys’ death. Don’t think about how he was probably too scared to trust any foods that he doesn’t make himself. But honestly, he is terrible at cooking that was Reggie’s and Alex’s jobs. I mean he can make a couple of Filipino recipes that his Lola taught him how to make like halo-halo, adobo, liempo sinigang rice.

Then eventually, he started to eat again, well not exactly, I mean Dr. Crystal seemed hopeful. But like he would go to restaurants with like multiple EFFING Michelin Stars and like refuse the food because he’s so scared that he might choke, or get food poisoning and die like the others. Like he low-key throws a tantrum because he is freaking and upsets the chef, but can you blame him?

Without any contexts the public and gossip magazines were like:

“woah I know he’s a rock star but what a spoiled brat”

“TREVOR WILSON: A FOOD SNOB?!?!”

“I Can’t Believe (It’s Not Butter sorry back to the headcannon lol) That This Rising Star Threw His Soup at the Chef a Michelin Star Restaurant”

(It was completely by accident btw!!! The matching friendship ring with the guys fell in the soup and he didn’t want to lose another part of his friends. So he started to rush to the bathroom with the soup to find the ring and fix it. .....and the chef just happened to be right behind.....and the gazpacho just happened to spill all over him. But he did get the ring so..... that’s good!!! But he also cried a bunch washing the tomato off of it tho)

Rose started to swing by his house every couple of days with bags full of ingredients and she checks in with him as she is making classic Puerto Rican comfort foods. She quickly realized that his vegetarianism wasn’t a lie and adjusted the recipes that she grew up with to suit his needs. Rose also realizes that if Bobby doesn’t know how a certain food is made and if he can’t see all the ingredients that went into it then he would refuse to eat it. So she fell into a pattern where she would cook at his mansion as he looks over her shoulder seeing how she make the dishes, sadly laughing at the terrible dad jokes she makes. (The jokes remind him of the one Reggie use to make)

Rose “The Queen of Meal Prepping Before Meal Prepping was Popular” makes enough food the next couple of days. Together they would sit down together to enjoy a meal. Rose just tells him it was to make sure that she made the recipe correctly. But really it was to ease his anxiety about eating and to prove that the food isn’t poison. However, deep down it was to also show him that it is okay to make new friends and the boys probably would have wanted him to at least try to move on a little. Quickly Rose discovered that his favorite dishes are arroz con gandules (basically white rice with peas and olives), mofongo (think like mashed potatoes but with plantains), and some many pasteles and empanadas. And even after Julie and Carrie were born they have family dinners once per week that Rose cooked.

Well I mean until her chemo started of course because that when the roles started to reverse..... (but I’ve given y’all enough angst today, so that’s a story for another time)

I mean at some point he probably had to learn how to cook for himself and Carrie or at the very least he goes to a restaurant that personally shows him how the food is prepared/ he can see most of the steps on how it is prepared. Like one time The number of professional chefs my manz personally knows is ridiculous!!! I mean once he became FILTHY LIKE DIRTY LIKE I WOULD EAT HIM rich he definitely got a personal chef to either meal prep or cooks meals for both him and Carrie.

Bobby had one of the worst anxiety attacks of his life (I mean other than when he found out the guys died) when Carrie was 7. She went to Flynn’s birthday party at an arcade and found out that she ate cheese pizza and hot dogs (I mean Lukie, Lexington, and Reg died from street glizzies for fuck’s sake). Sobbing he called Rose freaking out as he drove Carrie (who was blissfully ignorant singing along to the Kidz Bop CD she got from the party favor) to the ER. “Rose I can’t lose another person who I love” Rose right before she had to perform at a gig she convinced him to turn around and go back home.

This is @iamthefryiestfrench-blog genius idea and I love it so, so much but Carrie and Bobby definitely started to cook dinner together like a couple times a week as Father-Daughter bonding time. Well until Carrie started to get super busy with Dirty Candy and before Trevor started touring again at that point they started to drift away. Fights started to happen more frequently. Carrie started to get more and more take-out to spite Trevor, but she didn’t realize that Trevor stopped eating again. A major fight erupted after Trevor passed out from hunger a couple of weeks after the Orphuem concert.

“Carrie sweetie it is NOT DRUGS”

“Then why did I walk in to you knocked out on the floor”

“I just hadn’t had time to eat today mahal”

“Dad do not lie to me! I cannot lose another person who I love. I can’t Dad. I’m going to call Dr. Crystal!!!”

And that was when the truth was revealed...

Carrie’s channel is slowly started to be sponsored by hello fresh, cookunity, or blue apron every single week without fail. Both of them wouldn’t admit it, but this was her offering the olive branch and Trevor took it IMMEDIATELY. (He missed cooking with his little girl). And in the sponsorship ad you would see Trevor cooking a meal with his hair in little pigtails with pink scrunchies.

Of course, they get the vegetarian meals and if you use here promo code “DIRTYCANDI10” then you can get up to 10 meals for free!!! So thank you so much Hello Fresh for sponsering today’s video!!!

It took almost 25 years but cooking with Carrie again made things feel almost alright again and that’s all Bobby could have asked for.

A/N: Hi! Thanks for reading this it was really fun to write :) (because I love to write pain lmao) But please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist down below by either replying to this post, reblogging this post, or sending me an ask! I would appreciate reblogs and feedback because I love reading your guy's comments and tags they seriously make my day but it's fine if you don't want to :)!!!

~✨My Taglist is Under the Cut Lol✨~

@poppin-peters, @sunset-bobby, @theobligatedklutz, @soupforfree, @iamthefryiestfrench-blog

151 notes · View notes

real-jane · 3 years

Text

AWtA: Potions Partners

(hermione x draco)

summary: draco offers to be hermione's potions partner, per their agreement. the stark reality of their shared history comes to fruition.

warnings: draco teaches hermione how to brew a potion properly, he comforts her during a panic attack, talk about his dark mark

a/n: part 2 of ‘a week to atone’, my 8th-year hogwarts-era series. enjoy! message, comment, or reblog with request to be added to the tag list!

series masterlist

She smiled all the way back to the castle, as Harry filled her in on which first years had been sorted into Gryffindor, and who looked especially promising for quidditch draft picks, a subject that was as banal as it was unimportant to her. She smiled as they passed under the archway and the massive clock. She smiled as she unloaded her trunk in the eighth year dorm, which afforded her her own room and a striking view of the Black Lake from the east. She smiled as she changed into her denims and a light jumper.

And then she went into the girl’s lav, which was a shared affair amongst the eighth years and looked herself in the mirror--her lips weren’t any more pink than usual, but she knew where they had been--and she was hit with wave after wave of icy regret.

Malfoy now had license to ruin every single moment of her life at Hogwarts--she had handed it to him directly, a boy who had only ever tried to make her miserable. Why had she let him kiss her, and then on every subsequent opportunity after that, taken the initiative to do the same, going so far as to pull him into a more secluded spot to continue? Call it temporary insanity, impulsivity of a moment, and brought on by an impressive amount of civility compared to his usual… attitude.

Yes, she thought, that one will really hold up… I snogged the face off Draco Malfoy because he was uncharacteristically civil. That’s my type! Especially when said boy has spent the better part of seven years, by his own admission, attempting to make my life hell-on-earth. A boy with violent tendencies, and parents who would wish me dead. But a touch of civility, and I’m wooed! By a sweaty wizard, with no friends.

A boy who, for reasons she still didn’t understand, she had grabbed by the jumper one other time, preventing him from being pulled into the clutches of Deatheaters during the last battle. His heart had pounded under her hand that day. Something about feeling his heart beating had made her think, which was dangerous.

Even worse--seeing him again in the Great Hall after months of trying to remember if it had really happened… somehow, it had never occurred to her that he might actually return for an eighth year. But oh, return he did.

She skipped supper. Call it punishment, part of his penance, not to see her after she left him at the quidditch field. Her stomach growled painfully.

Hermione pulled back the covers on her bed, suddenly feeling at once like it was too lonely not to be preparing for sleep amongst the murmurs of her fellow Gryffindors, and far too lonely to be wondering if he would actually take her seriously and show up in their first Potions lesson of the term, ripe and ready to volunteer to be her partner.

She lay awake, well into the night, trying to remember where the impulse had come from to demand seven days of his time… and what in Merlin’s name she was going to ask of him the rest of the week. Maybe she could get him to scrub the toilets in Myrtle’s loo. She chuckled against her will. The sound echoed up into the rafters.

***

Malfoy was the first student in Professor Slughorn’s classroom the next morning. He sat near the back, to her relief, but… Hermione walked in with Harry and Ron shortly before the first bell. When the rest of the classroom was still empty. Her stomach sank like a stone. Malfoy didn’t turn to look at them; he was teetering back on the bench against the wall, reading his potion’s textbook. For a fleeting moment, she imagined walking over to him and knocking the feet of the bench flat, plonking her bookbag down and sitting beside him. But she had laid out her terms. He had to volunteer.

So, she assumed her regular position at the front of the classroom, while Harry and Ron took the table beside her. They were deep in a conversation about whether or not the new quidditch uniforms would come in time for the first match against Ravenclaw, who had apparently acquired a transfer from Durmstrang over the summer. Victor Krum’s little brother. It was a massive deal, and had consumed every moment of their breakfast conversation.

As the other students filed in, the remaining tables were filled with twosomes of eighth years from other houses. Nobody sat with her. She never worked with a Potions partner in years past. She was difficult to work with. So. It was expected. She ventured a glance back over her shoulder, but she couldn’t see Malfoy over the heads of her fellow students. She folded her hands on the table. She bounced her knees.

“Come to order, class!” Professor Slughorn’s jolly voice boomed as he shut the classroom door behind himself. He waved to several enthusiastic Hufflepuffs, and took his place on the raised platform at the front of the room, beside the blackboard.

“What a marvelous first day! I trust you all enjoyed your Summers off with your families, and that none of you were too put out by the events of last May, given that we lost so many--”

Harry cleared his throat, which threw Slughorn off his tangent. The professor scratched his head.

“Anyhow. It is a new year. Eighth year is an exciting time for students of your caliber. Preparations for final exams began the moment you set foot inside this room. Keep in mind that your work here could make a significant difference in your future successes. Every potion that we brew together will be challenging. I advise you to pick your partners wisely, for the wrong partner may mean failure. And yes, everyone will have a partner this term, Miss Granger. Even you.” Slughorn considered her over the rim of his glasses and Hermione felt her entire face alight in embarrassment. She looked away.

“Now--if you are satisfied with your current table mate, then you may sign off on this sheet with your pairing.” Slughorn handed Harry the paper. Both boys signed it under the slot for Table One. Hermione signed the first line for Table Two, and attempted to pass the paper on to the third, but Slughorn held up a hand. “Nah-ah, Miss Granger, as I said: you, too, must have a partner. Who will be your partner this term?”

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She had hardly expected Slughorn to make such a thing of her reputation for working alone--and she had made plans to rectify that--but she was taken aback by the way he insisted on singling her out for it.

“I don’t know,” she said softly.

“Who will be Miss Granger’s partner?”

Slughorn opened his question up to the class. Several people snickered, but the room remained largely quiet. Wood clattered on stone. A bench scooted back. Hard-soled boots clacked from the back of the room and approached. Draco Malfoy sat beside her, signed the empty space beside her name, and passed the paper onto the next table.

The professor could not have looked more surprised if Malfoy had set the table on fire. Hermione could feel the intense concern from Harry and Ron to her left, but she didn’t dare look at them. She couldn’t react at all. Just stare down at the table.

“I’ll do it,” Malfoy said softly. “I don’t have a partner, either.”

“How very… gallant, Mister Malfoy.” Slughorn had to coax his eyebrows down from his hairline, but he went on with his instructions for the class. Hermione didn’t hear them; his voice became distant, like an oboe being played badly in a far-off room. Instead, she focused on the heat radiating from the very tall Slytherin who had just met her challenge, and volunteered to be her Potions partner.

For the entire term.

Like she had charged him to do. And if her memory served, he had agreed to do whatever she asked.

“Didn’t see you at supper.”

Hermione started. “Sorry?” she murmured, as if she hadn’t heard him.

“You skipped supper.” Malfoy was fidgeting with his quill, twirling it between his fingers.

“Mmm.”

“Hm.”

They both remained in perfect stasis, staring at the cauldron they would be sharing, neither one seeming to know what to say. When he stood, Hermione snapped back to reality. She looked up at him and he nodded to the supply closet, where their fellow students were gathering supplies for the first potion. What potion that was, she couldn’t be sure. One student from each table took their turn. As soon as Malfoy was out of earshot, Harry leaned over as far as he could in his seat.

“Hermione, are you alright?” His black hair flopped across his forehead, while simultaneously sticking up in many directions. Over the Summer, Ginny had convinced him to at least keep the sides and back fairly short in the simulation of an actual hairstyle. It mostly worked.

“Yes. I’m fine,” she said, shooting him a small smile.

“I’m sure Slughorn will let you switch, if you ask him after class--”

“Honestly, Harry. As if I can’t handle myself with Malfoy.” She glanced at the closet, where Malfoy had just picked the ingredients for their brew. He turned back to her, but upon seeing Harry leaning over to speak with her in confidence, his expression flattened into an unreadable affect. Hermione’s stomach flipped with anxiety. What he must be thinking? Ron shouldered past him, and Malfoy took it silently, even though the red-haired boy gave him a look full of pure ire.

The Slytherin set their ingredients down on the table carefully, mindful to separate ingredients which Hermione assumed could not or should not be mixed until absolutely necessary--she assumed, because she couldn’t pay attention to anything other than the veins on the backs of his hands, and the way they danced.

“Having regrets?”

The question sent her heart into her heels, but Hermione finally managed to look him in the eye. She squared her shoulders. “No, of course not. I never regret anything, as a rule.”

“Hmm,” he replied. He had a terrible habit, it seemed, of merely grunting a response, when actual words would do better.

“Are you?” She felt relatively safe to ask, given that the classroom was alive with a hubbub of chattering and discourse about the proper way to brew whatever this potion was, and also because Ron and Harry were preoccupied with whether or not they needed to slice some kind of nut.

Malfoy couldn’t help the wry smile at the corner of his lips. “No. I am wondering if yesterday was a strange dream. I can’t seem to remember whether or not I woke up yesterday morning, you see, and then… I had quite an interesting conversation on the quidditch pitch, which also involved a fair amount of not talking with a witch who has, thus far, had no reason to be within ten yards of myself. So. You can understand my confusion.”

“Hush,” Hermione said quickly. Seemed like she would be perpetually blushing.

“Thought you didn’t have regrets.”

“I don’t. Lapses in sanity, perhaps.”

“Don’t think you were alone in that… doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy myself.” He smirked at her in such a self-satisfied way, that Hermione was rendered speechless for the second time. She merely stood, brushed the wrinkles from the front of her robes (the ones he liked), and rolled up her sleeves.

“What would you suggest for the first step?” she asked.

“Slughorn wrote the order of operations on the board,” Malfoy said softly as he rounded the corner of the desk, and came to stand beside her again.

“So he did.” She coughed lightly. “Well, then. You can chop the roots, and I will grind the…” Hermione searched for the small vial which apparently would hold bat talons. “...ah, yes. Thank you.” His fingers brushed against hers as he produced the ingredient.

“As you wish.” Malfoy took a small, slim knife in hand, and proceeded to split a jagged root down the middle. Elbow-to-elbow, they performed their tasks. After a time, Malfoy stirred the yarrow root into the cauldron with five counter-clockwise rotations of his wand. When it came time to add the bat talons, however, he grimaced at her mortar.

“Granger… this won’t do. They’re supposed to be ground until ‘resembling granules of fine sand’.”

“...that’s what I did.”

“This is the consistency of ash.” He pressed the tip of his pinky into the dust and held it up. Of course, he was right. She had purposely worked the pestle against each talon as if they had a grudge. But it meant they would have to be re-ground.

“So, I’ll do it again--”

“Allow me,” he chuckled. “Think you can be trusted to drop a whole bezoar into the cauldron without making a splash?”

“I could stuff a bezoar down your gullet,” she grumbled, but she passed off the bat talons to her partner.

“Next time I’m poisoned, I’ll owl you. Unless you’re planning to off me?”

“I’m considering it.”

He laughed--actually laughed, not because he was relishing her discomfort or chuckling at her expense. Like he was… enjoying himself. Malfoy deposited his perfectly ground bat talons into the cauldron, and gestured for Hermione to drop in the bezoar. She held her hand over the cauldron, but he pressed on her arm until she could feel the steam from the liquid on her forearm.

“Lower,” he said. “So it doesn’t disturb the surface. Ideally, it will drop straight to the bottom, and lay there until the very last stir.”

“What good does that do?”

He blinked at her. “Well… the bezoar eats away at the proteins which synthesize an acidic reaction between the yarrow root and the bat talons. We want that acidic reaction at the very end, to make the draught bubble. If the bezoar splashes into the potion, it will disturb the ingredients and the hellebore won’t intermingle with the… what?”

She was staring at him, jaw unhinged. Hermione shut her mouth. “I’ll just drop it in then, shall I?”

Malfoy nodded. Sure enough, the stone sank with minimal disturbance to the potion, and it could be seen clearly through the grey liquid. “Look at it--” he pointed to the stone-- "see those tiny bubbles around the base?” Hermione leaned over the lip. Sure enough, miniscule bubbles gathered around the surface of the bezoar.

“That’s the acid?”

“Mmhm.” He was very close to her, then. “You… this isn’t your favorite subject.”

“Um. No, no. I can brew adequately, but I… I don’t always know the reasoning behind the order of ingredients.”

“You should read more.”

Hermione gasped, but when she looked up at him, his eyes were glinting. She narrowed her own. “I read plenty, thank you very much.”

“Then, you should read different books. There are plenty of thrilling titles, if you need recommendations.” Malfoy de-veined the hellebore leaves and extracted the sap with the tip of his knife. He gestured to the final ingredient they needed to add, an oblong nut with faint white stripes down the shell. “Know what to do with that?”

Hermione glanced at the blackboard and the final step read thus: mascerate the hazelnut until a pulp. “...how are we supposed to do that? Masceration can take hours.”

“In this case?” He raised the nut to his lips and then popped it inside his mouth.

“What the hell are you doing--”

“Relax,” he said, though his speech was garbled. “When brewing a potion for oneself, it helps if the masceration is done with one’s own… saliva.”

“For… yourself?” Hermione’s head snapped to the board, to the one thing she hadn’t fully taken in yet. The title of the potion.

Draught of Consciousness: for two days of uninterrupted alertness

“Oh. Well. Could come in handy for finals.”

Malfoy turned his back to her for a moment and took the nut from his mouth. He used the pestle to insure that the nut was indeed pulpable, and then began to stir it in. He used his wand. As he agitated the mixture, the liquid began to bubble. It splashed onto the cuffs of his sleeve. When he removed his wand and set it on the table, he turned his back to her again.

“Should’ve rolled up my sleeves,” he breathed. Then, his shoulders hunched forward. Hermione noted the sudden change, and it took everything in her not to reach out for his elbow.

“What is it?”

He looked at her over his shoulder. He frowned deeply. “Don’t look,” he said. He unbuttoned his cuff. As he began to turn back towards her, Hermione looked at the cauldron, watching as the bubbles dissipated on the surface of their potion. He braced his hands on the table to inspect it, and out of the corner of her eyes… Hermione chanced a look.

She regretted it immediately. She couldn’t look away from the bit of skin which peeked out from his sleeve. When her breath caught, his attention snapped back to her, and he blanched.

“I told you not to look,” he spat.

Hermione felt weightless, floating. Panicked. She let her feet carry her out from between the bench and their table towards the professor. She must’ve asked him to be excused, or made some sort of explanation for needing to leave, otherwise he wouldn’t have patted her shoulder and said ‘by all means, we’ll see you next class’ and let her go.

She didn’t know where she was going, but when she came back to herself, she was standing on the wooden bridge, clinging to a post for dear life.

Of course he still had his mark. You can’t just cut out something like that--well, one could, but he hadn’t. It made sense why he didn’t roll up his sleeves to brew a bubbling potion. Why he told her not to look.

She felt her eyes well up, the moment the telltale click of his boots hit the wooden walkway. His pace slowed upon his approach. Hermione couldn’t decide what she felt about him finding her there, whether she wanted to hex him, or have it out with him for seven years of pain at her expense. But she did not expect him to touch her arm.

“Slughorn said our draught ‘exceeds expectations’,” he said softly. Why did he have to sound so sad? He attempted to hand her a small vial full of pink liquid, but she shook her head. “Suit yourself.” He pocketed the thing. Then, he sat against the railing beside her, with his arms crossed, cuffs firmly buttoned, and his back to the considerable view of the whole valley below. Malfoy just looked at her. Studied her face. She hoped he was noting the wet trails down her cheeks.

“If… if you want to call this quits, I understand,” Malfoy managed. “I don’t expect you to put yourself through this if it’s going to disturb you in this way.”

Hermione sniffled. “I’m not disturbed. I’m… heartbroken. Why didn’t we just get to be children?” A sob wracked through her, and her head fell to her chest. Unbidden, the boy beside her stood and she was engulfed in strong arms. “Why did you get branded?” she wept into his chest. “Who let that happen to you? Who let you mark yourself like that--”

“It was my choice.” His voice rumbled between his ribs, beneath her ear.

“No!” She pushed away from him. “I’m--gods, I won’t hear it. I don’t care. I just don’t want to see anything that reminds me of everything that happened--”

“Granger, it doesn’t work like that.” His face was forlorn, brow furrowed so deeply that he looked as if he had a headache oncoming. Malfoy’s mouth was twisted. He was pained by it, too. “But if I could take it off, I would. I… I didn’t want you to see it. But… if you want me to try to get rid of it, I will. I have to do what you say, remember? If you’ll stop crying, for Merlin’s sake.”

Hermione wiped her face on her sleeve, which made him wince and whip a handkerchief from his pocket. He brandished it towards her.

“I look crazy, don’t I?” She snatched the white kerchief from him. It was plain, not the sort of embroidered frippery she would expect of a Malfoy.

He shook his head. “You look much like how I feel.”

“I’m sorry for the way I reacted.”

“Who could blame you?”

She shook her head in disbelief and tried to quiet her breaths, which came fast and ragged. “What are we doing?” Hermione asked the question of herself, but she heard the sigh from him right away.

“Can’t answer that.”

“Why can I stand to be near you, now--and you, me? Why do I not want to banish you from my sight? Or…” She met his eyes, despite the fact that he was blurred in her vision. “Other things?”

He shrugged. “If you find an answer to that, let me know. I’m as puzzled as you.” He raised his hand, outstretched to her. The gesture made new tears flow. Still, she took his hand. Malfoy squeezed it. “Maybe we don’t have to figure that out today.”

“Okay.”

He pulled her until she stood between his knees, and then he sat on the rail again. His thumbs found the wetness of her cheeks, and he smoothed them away. For all intents and purposes, Malfoy ignored her sniffling, choosing instead to take his handkerchief from her and make sure she was done weeping. He pocketed his handkerchief. Then, he leveled his gaze with hers.

“There’s still a lot of time left in the day. Day One of seven, may I remind you.” He smiled softly. “What would you have me do?”

Hermione reddened. “I haven’t thought that far, to be honest.”

“This is supposed to be my penance. So you had better make it good.”

She did think, then. What, of all the things, all the possible tasks, would feel suitable? Not just suitable for a punishment--for Merlin’s sake, if she could ask him to do anything at all, what would it be?

“Far be it from me to tell you what to do,” he said, touching her shoulder, “but I have a feeling you could use some tea.”

“I could,” she groaned. “I’m famished.”

“Yes, I can tell.”

“You what?” She feigned insult, but his assessment was spot-on.

“Come on, Granger. You are emotional, forgetful, and indecisive. It’s not trauma from the worst years of your life, all bubbling to the surface at once, no no. Don’t be daft. You’re hungry, and you haven’t had any tea.” He raised his eyebrows in question.

Hermione took the bait. “You should get me tea. And…”

“Cucumber sandwiches?”

“No. Chocolate biscuits. And then deliver them to my next class yourself.”

His eyes grew wide. “Well. That’s… horrifying.”

“You have to do it--”

He raised his hands in resignation. “I didn’t say I wouldn't, I’m just saying it’s cruel, and perhaps excessive. Chamomile?”

“English breakfast, two sugars.”

“Alright.” Malfoy stood, looming above her as he did, now that he had had his Summer growth spurt.

“Before you do, can I ask you a question?”

He crossed his arms and nodded, bracing himself for whatever she might say.

“Why did you kiss me, yesterday?”

“If I had an answer for that, I would supply it readily,” he said, though he was flushed. “But having done so three times, I cannot say that I wouldn’t do it again. If ordered to do so, of course.”

“Hmm. But only if ordered.”

“Right.”

“Hmm. Alright.” Hermione turned to go, but was spun on her heels by him grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back to him. He cupped her cheeks.

“Are you better, now?” He was deadly serious, looking over her face for any sign that she was still distressed.

She sighed. “I don’t know. I think I will be. Eventually.”

“Slughorn singled you out. He shouldn’t have done.”

“It’s not as if he mortified me. I have a reputation for being a difficult partner.”

“We have that in common.”

Hermione shook her head. “You were a dream.”

“A dream, eh?” The grin which took up residence on his face could be called shit-eating.

“Not a complete nightmare, at least.” She wrinkled her nose at him.

“Mm.” Slowly, giving her plenty of time to back away if she so chose, he lowered his face towards hers. He paused, centimetres from her lips. “Give the order. Please.”

“Why?”

“Because it would punish me exceedingly.”

“Liar.”

His kiss was sweet, gentle compared to what she believed him capable of. He did not linger, he merely set her on her feet again once he was certain that she had indeed quieted what panic had struck her during class. She was sure that wasn’t the last they’d speak of things which pained them both. But even more clear was the notion that she wasn’t dreaming. There was a pull. Daft as it was.

Malfoy stepped back from her. “What’s your next class?”

“Divination.”

He scoffed. “Of course it is. Don’t you hate Trelawney?”

“I didn’t give her a chance before.” The way Hermione felt about Sybill Trelawney had changed so immensely after the war. In no small part to the way Headmistress McGonagall had come to her defense against Umbridge. Part of her ‘new leaf’ this year was to give a chance to those she had written off… a pattern she was repeating with Malfoy.

“If you say so. Expect me there, prostrating myself with your tea, shortly after the bell.”

“Will I make you late to your class?” She smiled innocently, but that thought gave her no small amount of glee.

“It’s my free period. Didn’t want to take Divination,” he chuckled. He bowed, and turned on his heel--only to stop in his tracks. Hermione touched his elbow.

“What is it?”

“‘Mione?”

Slowly, Hermione peered around Malfoy’s hulking form. At the end of the bridge, two boys stood with their jaws affixed to the floor. Ron and Harry made startling likenesses of codfish. Hermione pushed at the small of Malfoy’s back.

“Go on,” she breathed.

She watched him retreat, dodging around her two friends as he went off to fulfill her orders. He looked back at her once he had cleared them. He saluted her, as if to say… ‘good luck.’

Hermione clasped her hands together and smiled brightly at the boys. “Let’s get moving, we’ll be late for Divination.” She strode to them. They opened like swinging doors to accommodate her, falling in step beside her hastening gait.

She would not explain herself to them, no matter what they asked. Hermione merely led the way to Divination. And when the class bell rang, and moments later Draco Malfoy appeared with a small tray, balancing a small teapot and saucer of biscuits… both boys could’ve been felled by a stiff wind. The Slytherin boy set the tray on Hermione’s desk, bowed to her for the second time that day, and begged Professor Trelawney’s pardon for disturbing her classroom. Then, he left.

Oh, but it was worth it for the abject silence which followed his departure, and the shock on her friends’ faces. It was indeed embarrassing, as the reddened tips of Malfoy’s ears had matched hers, but… so worth it.

Part 1

Part 3

tag list: @adecila

message, comment, or reblog with request to be added to the tag list! :)

#draco x hermione #dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco and hermione #dramione fanfiction #draco malfoy x hermione granger #draco malfoy and hermione granger #a week to atone by realjane #a week to atone

47 notes · View notes

candyopala · 3 years

Text

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 7

Chapter Summary: Y/N and Obito have to get around the awkwardness of the events from that night, and what better to help with that then team seven in all its glory?

Words: 2.3k

AO3

Please like or reblog if you enjoy, check my rules for requests too! My dms are also open if you want to chat or anything else.

After spending a whole day on the hospital, Obito heads home for some well-deserved sleep. It is only on the next day, on his way to the field, that he starts properly processing what happened that night with Y/N. Her bandaging him up with a weird look in her eyes, him crying in front of her… the warmth he felt when she held his hand. Why did he do that in front of her anyway? They barely know each other, she teases him to no end, but he can’t help to already feel close to her, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

The way she held him…. He hasn’t felt this way since long ago, he felt accepted in an intimate way, he felt genuine companionship with her. Obito feels bad when he remembers too the reason for that whole situation, he wanted to get rid of the girl; he wanted to make her go away without giving her a chance.

I’ve been so blind, shutting her off like that…

Without knowing anything about his failures and only knowing that ugly side he shows to everyone, she still helped him through a tough time. He can’t help but feel his heart flutter with embarrassment, he didn’t even give her much of a chance. She might not be from Konoha, but there’s still good in her. He needs to take his mission with her more seriously.

He walks down the market streets, instinctively analyzing every single action that happens around him, seeing the faces of the people going up and down the roadway busy with their things. It’s not long before he spots four familiar figures walking down the street together: team seven. Naruto and Sakura discuss loudly about a matter Obito doesn’t bother try rearing, followed by Sasuke and Kakashi tagging along. Obito tries to say hi to Kakashi, only to be attacked by a running Naruto that throws himself onto him with all his force:

“Big bro Obito!”

“Hey! Calm down now! It’s only seven a.m. for Kami’s sake!” He scolds while laughing aloud and hugging the thirteen-year-old back

“I’m learning something new, you have to come see it! Are you busy?”

“I’m going to the training grounds, I can’t Naruto, sorry”

“Come on! Train with us!”

“Hey Naruto, stop bothering Obito, all right? He’s busy” Kakashi tries to intervene in Obito’s sake

“Huh… actually…”

Obito’s mind starts functioning, he does need to teach some new stuff to Sasuke and bringing Y/N along would be good for her training. He decides to join them, he actually feels deep down the need to introduce her to new people, to get her more settled into the village.

“I guess I’ll come along. There’s someone I want you guys to meet”

“Oh, is it her?” Naruto says with a devilish sparkle in his eyes.

“Her? Are you dating?” Sakura jumps up, immediately invested into the conversation.

“Finally” Sasuke also joins to make it all worse.

“Guys, calm down…” Kakashi once again tries to save his friend from his hyperactive trio “He’s just training a new member of the village”

A collective “oh” is heard from the two in disappointment. Great, now even the kids are invested in his love life. Obito tells them a little bit more about her on the way to the field, and he notices that even Kakashi seems a little bit more enthusiastic than normal.

When they reach the training grounds, he finds Y/N laying back on a tree, with a surprised look on her face when she sees the kids. Obito tries to introduce them, but they end up introducing themselves, with a hyperactive Naruto leading the presentations followed by his teammates and his teacher.

“Nice to meet you guys! Are we training together today?”

“Yup” Obito tries to say in the middle of Naruto’s ramblings

“How’s your arm?” She asks him back in the midst of it, a bit of what seems worry flashes her eyes, only to be quickly concealed with a look to the side.

“Oh, feeling like new. Some medical ninjutsu quickly solved it.” He states as he gets more embarrassed by the minute, once the memory of their shared companionship floods his mind. He needs to try to actually be nicer to her.

Meanwhile, Sakura flies a sly meaning smile in Obito’s direction, to his utter desperation. Watching the whole scene develop, Kakashi once again intervenes, trying to get to the subject of training.

“So, Y/N, dumbi- ahem, Obito told me you need some help with discovering your chakra nature. Coincidentally, that’s what I’m currently doing with the kids, so we could help you with that”

“That would be great, thanks guys! Out of curiosity, what horrible things did my mentor say about me?”

“Only the most terrible embarrassing things I found on your file” Obito teases back in a flash, without doing much thinking, letting himself play around a little.

“Oh then I should tell you friend about your new nickna-“

“Let’s start training, shall we?” He interrupts her before she can say it, since letting Kakashi know about that would be the end of him.

Kakashi started trying to teach Y/N a couple of techniques, teaching her to concentrate her chakra and showing her the right hand signs. Obito also explained about the ideal state of mind each element requires, the type of energy each one of them consumes.

Raiton was immediately out of question, and despite her special punch technique, doton seemed to drain too much of her energy, as well as suiton. She was able to produce a small amount of katon, only achieving smaller jutsu still due to the immense amount of chakra these require, so the fireball jutsu was out of question.

Futton was their last attempt and the one they were more successful with. She could produce wind with her running speed, creating vacuum spots, using the element in a less concentrated way than the rasengan requires, since she is still inexperienced with chakra concentration at that level.

Obito was actually pleased with today’s developments; he thinks that she can become even stronger by actually doing jutsu in battle. Naruto was also overjoyed to learn that his new village mate had the same main element as himself, showing her his still developing rasengan, proud of his own training and giving her some tips.

Obito let the pair talking and went to oversee Kakashi and Sasuke, now training his chidori technique. His little cousin had also developed a lot, and was now opening up to be a wonderful kid thanks to Naruto and Sakura’s insistence on their friendship, and Itachi’s efforts to make him socialize more.

He then also let them train and sat down together with Sakura, who was watching her colleagues train too, while she herself studied some medical ninjutsu books. The small girl looked at him with curiosity, noting the different expression on her sensei’s friend, who was usually much more uptight and serious. With that knowing look again, she simply stated:

“Mr. Obito, your main element is katon, right?”

“Yes Sakura, why?”

“Ah nothing, I was just wondering… katon is compatible with futton, right?”

“Yes, both can be used together to create more powerful jutsu”

“So… we could say that you and Y/N are compatible”

Obito’s eye goes wide with the way the girl says it. Both of them know she is not talking about just jutsu here. The implication of what she said makes him go as red as a pepper.

“N-no Sakura, she is my colleague, we are just that.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about sir, excuse me.”

The girl gets up and runs into Naruto and Y/N’s direction, winking back at Obito on her way.

~”~

The team gathers up for lunch, Y/N sits beside Obito’s friend Kakashi, opposite to her mentor, who sat in front of her. She avoided his eye contact, still feeling a little inappropriate for her behavior that night. She fears that what happened was too intimate for her own comfort, that she should not try to get that close to him. She should be his teammate, nothing else. She must ignore that pull that she feels from him, that desperate need she feels to talk to him about why he was crying that night.

She tries to strike up conversation with the ninja beside her, and he is very receptive, if not for his general lack of energy and relaxed demeanor. She sees a small little orange book protruding from his pocket, is that what she thinks it is? It is! The greatest book series of all time!

“Hey, is that Icha Icha?”

“Yes it is! I just picked up the latest volume!” he immediately assumes a whole different behavior, now fully invested in the conversation.

“What chapter are you on? Did you reach chapter 37 yet?”

“No, and no spoilers, please! I dying to know what she will do when she finds out about that thing”

“Dude, trust me, it’s going to be awesome”

They both strike up conversation about it for a couple of minutes, Y/N talks excitedly about the romance’s structure and how she finds it poetic in a way. They both discuss the general plots, praising the author despite Naruto’s loud complaints about him being a total pervert.

When she finally looks at Obito’s direction, she sees the jonin hunched forward, with an unimpressed look on his face, matching Sasuke’s that also seems to be bothered by the subject matter.

“Great, another one, they will talk about it forever” The young Uchiha comments.

“I don’t know what you guys see in this stupid book anyway” The oldest complements.

“He didn’t even give it a try; can you believe it, Y/N?” Kakashi teases in response.

“Sacrilegious! How could he say such things?” She retorts with fake shock.

“Shut up, you two perverts.” Obito says with a scorn forming on his lips, something he usually does that Y/N is starting to find extremely fun and… endearing?

Y/N, Kakashi and the kids laugh at his little tantrum, and later even himself. He is acting different today, more open, with a more lighthearted attitude, a lot less uptight and grumpy. Y/N feels a little happy knowing that he is feeling better, but she quickly shuts off the realization.

Concentrate on what’s important here.

They quickly fall back into training, with Y/N sitting back due to her extreme exertion during the chakra nature tests. After he has finished with his portion of the training with Kakashi and Obito, Naruto joins her. They sit together observing Obito discussing the fireball jutsu with Sasuke, Y/N can’t help but notice the proud look on her teammate’s face when his little cousin does a perfect ball of fire, making her let out a small smile. He’s not so cynical after all.

Naruto begins to talk about how he needs to be as strong as his father is, and Y/N learns that he is, in fact, son of the Hokage. He talks and explains a lot about the village and also talks about how his mom is always bothering him to make his bed in the morning. The kid is all over the place until he focuses on the subject of Obito.

He begins to tell her about how he is like a big brother for him and how he taught him his most deadly jutsu, something about a sexy jutsu, and how he is cool even if he has no girlfriend. Y/N, being the innocent thing she is, prods him for more embarrassing details about her mentor.

“One time he got stuck in the sexy woman form and Jiraya followed him around the village for a day! He had to hide from the pervert in the sewers! And once he choked with candy in the middle of a jonin reunion, Kakashi told me that”

Y/N cannot help but bust out in laughter at the image that forms in her mind, not being able to breathe while the kid continues to spill out embarrassing stories about the Uchiha. Naruto is suddenly stopped when Sakura lands a punch on top of his head, screaming in annoyance with her teammate’s attitude:

“Stop ruining everything!”

What she meant with that remains a mystery to Y/N. The discussion has to be separated by a tired Kakashi, holding Sakura back with all his force. Y/N is caught off guard by Obito’s presence by her side.

He helps her get up, giving his gloved hand in support. She accepts it, steading herself up.

“So, that’s all for today, sewer boy?”

“He told you about that, huh?”

“Of course he did”

“Yup, that’s all for today. Let’s head home”

“Let’s? I didn’t know you had moved into my broom closet, Obito”

“You know I’m not letting you walk around exhausted like that, Y/N”

The change in his tone scares her. He sounds serious, almost protective, and he calling her name like that sends shivers down her spine, in a not so bad way. He also didn’t call her a dumbass, is that an improvement?

She once again insists on walking by herself, but he insists on it so much that she eventually gives up and lets him accompany her. They discuss her new technique possibilities on most of the way, only for the subject to change as they reach her apartment.

“So, what did you think about them?”

“They’re nice kids, all of them seem to look up to you, Naruto especially”

“He’s a good kid, they are all like family to me”

Y/N agrees with her head, thinking to herself about the word family. She once had one, but lost them very early on. Moreover, once she found another person she could call that, she lost them too. The memories flood her mind, making her face go serious and eyes to go foggy.

“Take good care of them Obito, what you have here is… amazing”

“I will, I promised that long ago”

They reach her door, saying their goodbyes quickly. As Y/N closes her door, Obito calling her name again interrupts her.

“Oh! Y/N! I forgot; we have an important meeting with the Hokage tomorrow at ten in the morning. We will be heading out for our first mission, be ready”

#Obito #obito uchiha #obito x reader #Jonin Obito #obito x you #obito x y/n #uchiha obito #naruto fanfiction

29 notes · View notes