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kismetharborapps · 5 months ago

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Finn Goodman

ooc information

name: Desdemona

preferred pronouns: She/Her

age: 39

timezone: CST

activity level: 7-8

triggers: none

anything else?: Nope

character information

name: Phinneas “Finn” Andrew Goodman

faceclaim: Josh Hutcherson

gender & pronouns: Male/He/Him

age: 31

birthday: October 12, 1992

place of birth: Kismet Harbor, Or

occupation: EMT working towards becoming a paramedic

neighborhood: Cresthill Meadows

time since arriving in kismet harbor: Birth

filling a wanted connection?: No

biography:

TW: CHILD ABUSE, DV, TEEN PREGNANCY, MISCARRIAGE, CHILD LOSS, RELIGION, FAMILY DISAPPROVAL, BLOOD, DEATH, DEPICTION OF WAR/INJURY

Phinneas was born under a Libre moon with plenty of stars in the sky. His parents, Stella and Daniel, were ecstatic as he was considered a miracle child. Stella was told at an early age that she would not be able to conceive despite over a decade of trying. Finally, it happened. And to Stella, he was perfect. She made sure he got whatever he wanted and was never without the finer things in life. His father owned the first ever law firm built in Kismet Harbor, Lighthouse Legal, and his mother was a Sunday school teacher at the local church. Finn grew up innocent, assuming that his life was perfect. He had his best friend, Marley, living next door and they did everything together, attended church, went to the movies, all the things that best friends did. Their parents were friends so it was only natural that they would gravitate towards one another.

When Finn was about 9, he started noticing strange people coming and going from both his home and the law firm where he would hang out after school and do his homework. It was really the only time he got to spend time with his dad as he was always working late and would come home after Finn was already in the bed. One particular day, Finn was playing in the house when he stopped outside his dad’s study (which he was not allowed in) and overheard two men inside talking about something called ‘coercion’

and ‘witness tampering.’ Of course he was only 9 so what did he know about all that? He just walked away and let the grownups talk. He was over at Marley’s house so often that he considered them his second set of parents. They always came around for dinner and to talk business while he and Marley disappeared upstairs to play video games or watch a new film he’d just gotten.

Things like this were normal. He attended church every Sunday and never missed an opportunity to hear his best friend sing at all the functions, even if Mom and Dad weren’t as interested. One day, Finn was approached by a tall male outside his house and he wanted to know where his dad was. Finn didn’t think anything about it and told him he was at his office at the Law Firm. When dad got home that evening, he hit Finn for the first time and left a bruise on his face that he had to lie about. His mom said nothing about it to anyone and life went on, with the occasional beatings when Finn would misbehave or act in any way that his father didn’t approve of. He would find out later that he hit Stella as well.

When Finn turned 15, his relationship with Marley had changed and instead of seeing her as his best friend, he had started liking her as more so one day, out of the blue, he asked her out, knowing that if he didn’t, his mom and dad would start asking around at church for someone for him to date. He knew she would say yes because that is just how they were but now it was different. Now there were real feelings involved, and consequences for actions that you couldn’t blame on being kids anymore. Their relationship soon blossomed and they became even more inseparable. Still, being raised by strict religious parents, whenever they hung out, it was ‘doors open’ or a curfew wherein they only had a couple of hours where they could truly be alone.

By the time Finn was 18, he had endured enough to fight back against his dad’s beatings. “I’ve already been cursed with a midget for a son, i’ll not have a sissy too.” His dad was smart enough to know how hard to hit to either not leave a mark or leave them in areas no one could see and Finn had gotten tough enough to fight back, ending most of them before too much damage had been done.. Escaping to Marley’s house was his safe haven, even if his dad knew exactly where he had gone. They spent all day together while her parents were away and they discussed their future, fully expecting to get married like everyone expected. The next day at school, his friends teased him about having sex, wondering why they hadn’t done it yet. He just brushed it off with a joke but the words stuck with one.

One night, after a church function, Finn told their parents they were going up to the lookout to eat dinner and listen to a podcast, to which their parents approved. During this time alone, Finn brought up the idea of sex and they both agreed that they would like to take it to the next level so there under the stars, they had sex in the backseat of his car. It was just like he had imagined and so much more. He was already convinced that they were soulmates, destined to leave Kismet Harbor and his parents behind for a life of pure bliss. Then Marley sort of became distant and he could tell something was different about her. He decided to ask her about it and she told him she was pregnant.

He made the decision right then to step up and be there for her, like a good future husband and partner should. They kept it hidden for as long as they could but then one day, her mother found out and then as a result, his parents found out. But instead of preparing for a beating like he had assumed, they had just told him that he had to marry her, which he was planning to do anyway. His mother gave him her mother’s ring and said to propose to her on graduation night, to which he agreed. He was shocked that his parents weren’t more upset that they had had sex out of wedlock but as long as he wasn’t being beaten, he was okay with it.

Finn was at home that fateful day when Marley showed up, looking absolutely terrified and scared. She told him something was wrong adn they rushed to the hospital. He stayed by her side the entire time and cried with her when they told her that their baby girl had died. In a cruel twist of fate, she still had to deliver the baby and Finn had barely even seen her face before they whisked her away forever. He didn’t blame Marley for what happened, it was an accident, but his father didn’t feel the same. He tried to forbid him from seeing her but he defied him, needing to check on her. They tried to make it work for weeks after but eventually the grief was too much and they broke up.

Finn wasn’t sure what to do now, he still loved Marley, still wanted to be with her, wanted to marry her but his father had convinced her parents that it was best that they stay apart. One evening, as Finn was filling out college applications, his father came in and ripped them up, throwing them in his face in anger. “I told you not to see her anymore! You’ve got good genes, Finn, and I’ll not let you throw them away on some girl who can’t even keep a child alive! Now you’re going to take this ticket, hop on a bus and join the military. And if you don’t, then your mother is going to end up homeless and on the streets and you, you will never see another dime of my money.”

Finn knew he meant every word so without even so much as a goodbye, he hopped on a bus and that was the last time he saw Kismet Harbor. He wrote letters to Marley during his time in the service but never received anything in response so he just assumed that she had moved on, eager to forget the man that had given her a beautiful child and then left her without so much as a goodbye. He couldn’t blame her, leaving like he did was torture and he wished he could go back and explain it all.

It was a cool night in Afghanistan, and he and his friend were on patrol around the campsite and they really should have been paying attention where they were stepping but Finn was telling him about Marley when he heard a click and two seconds later, an explosion rocked the ground. Finn was thrown 30 feet in the air, landing hard on his left side. His head slammed into the ground, causing him to immediately pass out. He wouldn’t learn about the extent of his injuries, or the fate of his friend, until he woke up 3 weeks later. His friend had died instantly and Finn was seriously wounded and would have died had it not been for the quick work of his squad mates. He had lost his leg, his arm was broken and now put back together with screws and plates, and had broken 7 ribs. “But you survived. You get to live your life.” What kind of life could he possibly have?

He was honorably discharged from the military after 4 years of service but instead of going home, he went to New York, enrolled in Columbia University and got a business degree. He still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with his life but he could figure it out now that he had a degree. One day he got a phone call from his mother, saying that his dad had been arrested on conspiracy charges and that she would explain things once she knew more. His father was doctoring and falsifying evidence against his opponents so that his clients would win and therefore line his pockets while also simultaneously stealing from his elderly clients.

During this time, he met a famous Broadway actress named Kelly and while he would always love Marley, he knew he needed to move on so they started dating. It would be another year before he asked her to marry him and she had said yes. They got married in 2022 and for a while things were good but being in the limelight was not something Finn enjoyed. He didn’t like reliving the trauma he experienced overseas, or dodging questions about his injuries.

He and Kelly fought constantly because she wanted a trophy husband and a family and Finn wasn’t about that life. He had made a promise to himself to never have a child again, not after what he’d gone through and she couldn’t accept his answer so she filed for divorce in 2023. He was getting used to being single again, thankful to be away from that lifestyle and just being able to focus on himself. He missed Marley, he missed his mom, but he couldn’t go back there. His father had screwed over the entire town, all the clients who had invested their money into his services and he had screwed them over. Even if he had nothing to do with it, he was guilty by association. No, he was better off where he was.

So why was he on a plane back to Oregon right now? Because his father had died. He had had a heart attack while awaiting trial. And in an odd twist of fate, and a final fuck you from him, he had left the firm in Finn’s name, making him the sole owner. He was shocked but knew he needed to go back to take care of it, and quickly, so he could get back to New York. A quick trip home, 2 weeks maximum. It was a big small town, no chance of running into the one that got away right? Right.

other: N/A

pets:

His service animal named Stitch and his cat named A’hole (It's really Quincy but he calls him A’hole)

town activities:

Compassionate Friends

Knit Happens

LGBTQIA+

Mindful Madness

Wounded Warrior

Draw of Luck: Yes

#submission

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jargonautical · 8 months ago

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A meeting at the museum

ALFRISCOMBE’S TOWN MUSEUM is easily the nicest site any of the team have ever worked on, especially compared to the bland university campus most of them have recently been transplanted from. In a former life it was the vicarage, built in the same pale streaked granite as the magistrates’ court and the imposing town hall at the top of the main street, and gifted to the council under covenant ‘for the good of the townspeople’ in 1921. It retains much of its original grand character, including the famous sweeping curve of the double staircase rising up from the entrance hall. It’s a happy place to work, something above and beyond just the aesthetic. There are both grander and prettier buildings in Alfriscombe but this one somehow generates a glow of contentment in its inhabitants, as if over the centuries the house has absorbed happy memories into the very brickwork and releases them back into the air bit by bit.

The cleaners may roll their eyes sometimes, hearing the praise heaped on the house, but it’s more indulgent than exasperated. That eternal gloss on the banisters, the glowing patterns on the floor tiles in the hall, it’s not invisible midnight pixies making that happen. A building this old demands sustained and expert effort to make sure it shines. But they’re every bit as happy as the office personnel, seeing their efforts rewarded every day by the smiles and appreciative comments of the occupants and by the responsive glow of the building itself as they bring it to life.

Today in particular the house seems determined to put on the best possible show. Just yesterday the glass panes of the side porch and inner door received a thorough cleaning using an old-fashioned concoction of vinegar, newspaper, and elbow grease, encouraging this morning’s broad sunshine to flood though into the hall and highlight the tiles to perfection. Off to the right, on either side of a little fireplace, two upholstered armchairs in a deep red velvet invite guests to wait in elegant comfort. There’s no fire laid there today, not with the weather turned so warm recently; a tasteful arrangement of dried flowers in shades of pink occupies the tiny iron grate instead. To the left of the door a rotating team of volunteers man the front desk in a pokey cubbyhole where the cloakroom once would have been, dispensing old-fashioned paper tickets and taking payment under the flirtatious gaze of a marble bust depicting ‘Miss Amelia Waldron aged 18yrs on the occasion of her coming out’.

Despite its small size the museum contains some impressive collections. A former son of Alfriscombe donated a significant proportion of the artefacts during his career as an Egyptologist, a collection stretching across the whole ground floor of the east wing. On the other side of the house there are smaller displays of Alfriscombe’s own history, from eighteenth century watercolours of the fishing boats on the harbour through to Second World War gas masks and ration cards.

Upstairs, the prehistoric collection is richly populated by finds from the caverns under the top end of town, a tourist attraction in its own right. It’s been less popular in recent years, there only being so many flint scraps and mammoth molars you can look at before you head for the gift shop, but the word is it’s about to receive some very significant new exhibits.

Today’s visitor is yet to appear to appreciate the museum’s delights, despite having been informed that the briefing is scheduled to begin promptly at a quarter past ten. The tall clock beside the door is showing a few minutes after the hour already, and the welcoming committee have been ready and waiting since a quarter to.

Raj fidgets by the door, peering out periodically to see whether there’s any sign of someone coming up the drive. ‘I know we didn’t think he’d be bang on time, but this is ridiculous. What’s the plan if he doesn’t show?’

The second member of the committee is feeling less welcoming by the second. Jonas has one anxious eye on the clock, conscious that he’s already going to be late for the daily site security meeting - not that he likes attending the blasted things and there are never any surprises, but by God does management ever make a fuss if you’re not there on time.

‘Give it ’til ten past and then I’ll have to pack up and take the kit back to the office.’ he announces. ‘You’ll just have to start without him.’

The kit under discussion is a hastily assembled photo set up; backdrop screen, lighting rig, camera and tripod in one corner, along with the triply-secure laptop and the special printer, a small but disproportionately heavy box in yellowing plastic that transfers images to plastic cards. Dragging it down here and getting it all set up just right was, to be frank, a massive pain in the arse, but their instructions were clear. Every possible effort must be made to smooth this particular consultant’s way into the building and on to the project, and if this means bringing the entire set up down to the hall to save the man the bother of climbing a couple of flights of stairs then so be it.

With precisely one minute to go before Jonas makes good on his threat, Mr Mainder at last strolls through the door. Reports varied as to what to expect, ranging from local gossip about a harmless middle-aged shopkeeper, through to shady and possibly criminal dealer in artefacts - this from overheard fragments of the Archchancellor’s embittered rant on his most recent visit.

The man now approaching quite frankly defies both of those neat pigeonholes. Tall, dark - well, two out of three isn’t bad. Rather than handsome, his face is better described as ‘interesting’; high cheekbones and a wide mouth hint at Slavic ancestry somewhere down the line, and the bridge of his nose kinks in a way that suggests it’s been broken more than once in his lifetime. A neat four-day beard is a strange contrast to his hair, clipped short apparently at random and showing all the signs of wanting to curl if just given enough leeway. Deep-set eyes are clouded blue-grey, the colour of flint. A shade over six feet tall and lean with it, with shadowed hints of tattoos and a hint of muscle under his long-sleeved shirt suggesting he’s in halfway decent shape for a man his age. What that age actually might be is harder to pin down; he could be anything from a weathered thirty-something to an incredibly well-preserved fifty.

He halts on the threshold and takes in the scene in the hall; Jonas glowering with one guilty hand already on the release catch of the tripod, and Raj hovering with an uncertain smile. After a moment’s hesitation he accepts the offered handshake, and those clouded eyes brighten momentarily. Raj catches himself checking out his other hand, inexplicably cheered to see no wedding ring. He can’t help but feel a spontaneous surge of attraction, however difficult the man is being. For all that he’s dressed for a day’s work down in his shop he moves and stands like someone who’d be entirely at home with a blade in his hand and a horse under him. That kind of confidence is a powerful draw.

Jonas, less impressed, gestures for Mainder to hurry up and be photographed for his security pass. He does so, flipping the tails of his coat out from behind him and settling on the plastic chair with the leisurely air of royalty deigning to sit for a formal portrait. At least he’s cooperating for this part, and a suitable image is quickly captured and transferred to the laptop for it to do its thing. Meanwhile Mainder rises and submits without complaint to being scanned and patted down, obligingly raising both arms to shoulder-level to facilitate the latter, all with a faint smile on his face.

He isn’t carrying anything remotely like a weapon - in fact he isn’t carrying anything at all, not a wallet or a mobile phone or even a set of house keys. Polite attempts at small talk falter under that flint stare and the half-smile. He answers readily enough, but it’s all one-word answers establishing that yes, he’s been to the museum before; no, he didn’t drive here and yes, it’s certainly a lovely day. It’s very much a relief when the printer rattles to life and disgorges his pass, the laminated image faithfully like him but at the same time strangely unlike, and forever fixed in that same unsettling smile. At last, with the clock now showing twenty-three minutes past ten, he’s finally ready. He thanks Jonas with solemn courtesy, even as he drops the rectangle of plastic into the pocket of his coat like he’s forgotten its purpose already.

#fantasy #fiction #somewhere to be #books #booklr #reading #faerie #storygraph #goodreads #a chapter at a time

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sloshed-cinema · 10 months ago

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Small Axe: Education (2020)

The British school system is fucked, yo! Going back as far as Dickens and beyond, it’s clear that bullying runs rampant and schoolmasters are miniature fascists with a long leash. And that’s even before you add systemic racism to the mix. Education examines just how fundamental the failings of the British state are—by design—toward the West Indies community in the nation, and how it starts practically from birth. While this is a small story in some senses, it masterfully incorporates elements from prior installments of the anthology, indicating the dual structure of an institutional pipeline designed to grind individuals under the heel of the white majority, and those individuals who are bound and determined to resist that grinding. Initially, Kingsley seems doomed to suffer like Alex Wheatle, utterly isolated both at home and at school. His teachers disproportionately target him, and his overworked mother resents him for not succeeding within the system in the same way his older sister has. But then his mum actually listens. The outreach work of determined activists seeking to end the British norm of simply shuttering away “undesirable” children into a purgatory of non-education gets through to her, and she becomes a fiery and powerful champion for change. Powerlessness to empowerment is an important arc in these films, and here we see the contrast of Kingsley struggling to read a passage from Of Mice and Men with him recounting, if occasionally needing support, the tale of an ancient African queen. Ever aware of textural detail, McQueen depicts the essential boredom of the ill-served children at length. When left to their own devices, they scrawl nonsense on the blackboards and pummel one another. When subjected to their negligent “teaching,” life is a never-ending drudgery: I too long not to listen to one man’s slurred guitar version of karaoke. But the film opens and closes on cosmic possibility, Kingsley awestruck by a planetarium display, and propelled back to those possibilities as he reclaims ownership over his own education.

THE RULES

SIP

Someone names an occupation.

A teacher is a paragon of pedagogical perfection.

Someone says 'Kingsley'.

BIG DRINK

A prayer begins.

Children making animal noises in a scene.

#drinking games #small axe #education #steve mcqueen #drama #fuck margaret thatcher

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chaotic-archaeologist · 3 years ago

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What do you wish more people knew about college, working, and sex? (This is three different categories but some of them can overlap.)

For sure! Once again I'm going to break this down into parts and answer the less safe for work stuff under a read more.

College:

College is not for everyone, and/or it isn't right for everyone right after high school! Maybe you would be better off going to trade school to become a plumber or electrician. Maybe you need a gap year or two or three to figure yourself out a little more. Maybe your parents are pressuring you into a certain major and you want to wait until you're more financially independent so that you can study what you want. Our society tends to give the impression that everyone can and should go to college, but the reality is that it's totally optional.

If you are going to college, check our community colleges first! They can be great places to get your general education requirements for less money, and often with smaller class sizes and professors who genuinely want to teach rather than research. Community colleges are not better or worse than other schools, they each just have different pros and cons.

Additionally, if you do go to college, know that it's okay to fuck up a little, even if that means partying a little too hard or having a rough breakup. What does matter is how you correct yourself and get back on track. The vast majority of people aren't going to care about your grade the moment after you graduate, so don't stress if you can't do it in four years with a perfect grade point average.

Working:

Know what your skills are worth, continually work on developing or maintaining those skills, and use those skills as leverage. Do some research to see what other organizations are paying for someone equivalent to you and make sure that you're not being underpaid. Negotiate for your salary/wages. You don't have to say yes to the first figure they give you. Ask "can you offer anything better than that?"

Not all of us can work for passion, and it's okay if you don't end up in your dream job right away or ever. You should have a well rounded personality that has foundations outside of your occupation. Do magic tricks, knit, play D&D, whatever you enjoy. Also work to maintain a healthy work/life balance. Don't burn yourself out by saying yes to everything that you're asked to do. Set and enforce your limits.

For sex:

You do not have to engage in sex if you don't want to, and whatever reason you have for not wanting to have sex is 100% valid. You also are not required to have sex with anyone and/or at anytime.

Know that every single time you have seen sex depicted in porn, tv/movies, or literature, that scene has been specifically created for entertainment and is not reflective of the actual reality of having sex. Be prepared for awkward moments, funny moments, even potentially gross moments. You also don't have to be ashamed about sex. Purity culture can make you think that some things are wrong or immoral, but as long as everything is legal and consensual, there's no need for shame.

The more you communicate, the better sex you will have. Not just communication about consent, but communication about everything. What you do like, what you don't like, and everything in between. Take the time to educate yourself on what's out there, especially if the sex education that you got in school was inadequate. Scarlteen is a great website that has lots of inclusive information, and you can always pop into my inbox as well.

Most importantly, you deserve a partner who is respectful and reciprocal. You do not ever have to settle for second best.

Hope this helps,

-Reid

#he speaks #he answers #sex advice #academic advice #life advice

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stark-tony · 4 years ago

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today is my 22nd birthday so i’m celebrating by reccing 22 of my favorite fics and giving my general thoughts about them.

atla

i'm still here by owedbetter (77.7, T, zutara) "You see me."And somehow, that makes all the difference.

thoughts: One of the first zutara fics i ever read and it’s still one of my absolute favorites. The characterization of all of the characters is superb and the gradual development of zuko and katara’s relationship is amazing.

such selfish prayers by andromeda3116 (47.6k, T, zutara) Katara's ambition, so long set aside for the good of others, breaks free and sets fire to her soul. Or, Katara has a vision of her canon future, casts it aside, and becomes a world-changing politician instead.

thoughts: while this fic is a zutara fic, the majority of this fic is centered on katara and her helping rebuild the world after the war and it does an astounding job of portraying just that. and honestly this probably has my favorite characterization of katara i’ve ever read in a fic.

Southern Lights by colourwhirled (501.8k, M, zutara) A world where the Avatar has disappeared from memory. Where Sozin’s Conquest was successful. Where the unsteady order of the empire is threatened as members of the royal family are picked off one by one and lines are slowly drawn in the sand.One last chance for peace forces an unlikely alliance between a homesick waterbender, a carefree Air Nomad, a runaway Earth Kingdom heiress, and the fire lord's inscrutable son. Together they must learn to shed old enmities and become the balance they seek to restore to the world.OR:The avatar has four heads.x[[Chapter 4: "And always, his eyes, cautiously watching her. Even when he thinks she isn’t looking. It drives her mad"]]

thoughts: when i say i was unable to put this fic down i genuinely mean that. like i’m pretty sure i was hooked from the very first chapter and i never looked back.

bnha

stickers and stars by aloneintherain (1.9k, G, gen) “Aizawa, are you sure I’m the best person for this job? There are a lot more qualified people on campus. People who have been teachers for years, and—”As All Might spoke, Midoriya Izuku crawled the length of the couch, ducked under All Might’s arm, and made himself comfortable on his lap. All Might’s hands rose into the air, as though unsure of what to with his arms now that he had a toddler curled against his stomach like a cat seeking the warmth of its owner.“Um,” All Might said.

thoughts: is it not enough to say ‘baby deku’ and leave it at that?

Butterfly by aconstantstateofbladerunner (198.8k, T, gen) The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home. But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air. But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.Or rather, what finds him.

thoughts: it’s incredibly well written and the horror aspect is so good. also the dad might in it is top tier.

villain eradication plan 5C: let them attack budding heroes mothers, wait appropriate time for mother to defeat them (3.4k, G, toshinko) Targetting the civilian families of hero students should be cakewalk. Pity they decided to go with Inko first.Or the one where Inko accidentally defeats the League of Villains.

thoughts: this fic is basically inko accidentally being a badass and it’s as hilarious and awesome as it sounds

see it all in bloom by aloneintherain (57.2k, T, tododeku, kiribaku, momojirou, bullying) Midoriya looked over the occupants of the room with butter soft eyes. “We should do this again. Seeing everyone in one place … it’s like we’re back in school again.”Todoroki said, “It feels like a family reunion.”(Social media fic, counting down the five months to Class 1-A's ten year reunion.)

thoughts: this series deals with social media + the lives of class 1a after they become pro heroes and it is amazing.

remember from here on in by aloneintherain (8.1k, G, gen) Aizawa glances from All Might to Midoriya quickly. It sounds impossible—he’s never heard of a quirk that can be handed down like a family heirloom—but at the same time, it makes perfect sense. Midoriya’s inability to use his quirk at the start of the year. The strange, familial relationship between All Might and Midoriya. The slow malnourishment of All Might’s body, like his power was being siphoned away.“You’re …” Aizawa begins.“I’m All Might’s successor.” Midoriya’s proud but shaky voice rings clearly down the empty corridor.Aizawa finds out about One for All.

thoughts: this fic deals with one for all being revealed to aizawa + midoriya getting more quirks and it is amazing

could i but teach the hundredth part by terra_incognita (5.2k, G, gen) Ito Matsu knows three things about her neighbor, Mr. Yagi: he's very skinny, he's very kind, and he has enough children to overthrow the Japanese government.Or:All Might is retired, but his former students keep coming up with reasons to visit.

thoughts: this fic is so lovely and i adore it so much

mcu

the talk by parkrstark (3.1k, pepperony) “Wait, man, what’re you doin’?” Rhodey asked, leaning forward.“Giving the kid his talk before he goes off to college.” Duh.Rhodey blinked. “At 3am when you’re probably too drunk to even spell your name, months before he actually has to leave?”“Yeah.”Rhodey blinked again. “Okay.”

thoughts: this fic is absolutely hilarious and poor peter is suffering throughout all of it

call you home by Madelinedear (19k, G, pepperony) sometimes family is who you're born with.and sometimes family is a spider boy, a rich not-dad, and a kickass aunt.(or; tony, may, and peter find a place in each other's lives)

thoughts: to me, this fic is the tony may co-parenting fic. like i honestly don’t think that anything can ever top it

I Never Lived 'Til I Lived In Your Light by losingmymindtonight (38.4k, T, pepperony, character death) As the world shifts to make space for Morgan Stark, everyone around her shifts, too. (As it turns out, this also includes Peter Parker's sleep schedule.)

thoughts: this fic is both fluffy goodness and heartwrenching angst and it handles both beautifully.

Lazarus, come forth by iron_spider (47.9k, T, pepperony) Tony's mind is a chaotic mess but he remembers the moment—remembers his death, remembers the red hot pain and Peter screaming, Rhodey rushing to his side. How he knew he’d never see Pepper again—but they’d fixed it. They’d fixed the world, erased the lost time, set things right—and the kid was back. The kid was crying, the kid hated him for doing what he did, but he was back. He was alive.Tony Stark was dead. But now he’s breathing again, trying to think, gasping, hands tracing the box surrounding him, covering him, suffocating him.He’s in a coffin. He’s under the ground. He’s under the fucking ground.(Tony Stark dies defeating Thanos. But then he comes back to life. He has to find out how, why, and how to live again. And how to deal with the changes in the people he's coming back to.)

thoughts: although this fic was written and finished pre-endgame but to me this fic is the fix-it fic for film.

Identity Saga by KitCat992 (400.7k, T, pepperony) An organically developed, platonic slow-burn of Avengers-fam dynamic with a heavy hand of Irondad & Spiderson. Throw in an overdose of whump, a couple of cunning villains and a big-bad hiding in the shadows, and you got yourself this hot mess.

thoughts: i just love the avengers dynamic in this series and the whump is medically accurate which is amazing.

college applications: the biggest meme by sagemb (3.3k, T, pepperony) Tony covered his face with both hands and screamed very gently. “Can I just bribe the school to let Peter in?"

thoughts: this series is absolutely hilarious and i love it

The Changeling + Armistice Series by Annerb (586.6k, M, hinny, rape) Ginny is sorted into Slytherin. It takes her seven years to figure out why.

thoughts: this fic is absolutely golden and i adore it so so much. the characters are so well written and the worldbuilding in this fic is fantastic and it actually has an original aspect of hogwarts (aka the parlor) that i practially consider to be canon at this point. also the depiction of slytherin house + house unity in this fic is just *chef’s kiss*

boy with a scar by dirgewithoutmusic (208.7k, T, hinny, romione, jily) A series of "what if" rewrites of Harry Potter, books 1-7. Cross-posted from tumblr (ink-splotch).

thoughts: every single one of these fics are exquisitely written and i wish that i could experience the beauty of this series again for the very first time.

Hogwarts, to welcome you home by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger) (11.1k, G, ginny) “You understand, Professor,” Harry began, after a moment, “that I don’t have my N.E.W.T.s. I never even finished seventh year. Between everything, I never had a chance the first time around, and then afterwards there didn’t seem to be much point. Hermione argued for it, of course, but I was so tired of Britain. So technically, I am completely unqualified for the position.”“Quite a way to begin an interview, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, dryly.Or, three years after the war, Harry Potter becomes Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

thoughts: this is my favorite harry as dada professor i’ve ever read. no doubt about it

And the Unethical Binding Contract by justafandomfollower (14.6k, G, gen) AU. What if the Triwizard Tournament took place in Harry's first year, not his fourth?

thoughts: this fic is beautifully written and i love the relationship that forms between harry, cedric, krum, and fleur.

Regulus Black and the Way Things Changed: A Not!Fic by imaginary_golux (8.8k, T, wolfstar) What if Regulus Black, and not Severus Snape, ended up being the turncoat Potions Master of Hogwarts?A not!fic written in bullet points, ignoring the Deathly Hallows entirely because they annoy me.Beta by my immensely patient Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw, and by the delightful starbirdrampant.

thoughts: this fic may be ooc at some points but it’s so funny that that makes up for it

spn

Broadway Musical by Griftings (12.5k, M, destiel) This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

thoughts: this fic is quite possibly the single most funniest thing i have ever read. like i was straight up cackling when i was reading some of the scenes.

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1 million+, E, destiel) There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

--Harry Takes the Field by bratfarrar (AO3 link here.)

thoughts: this fic is an absolute work of art. the characterization dean and cas and all of the ocs is astounding the world building is immaculate and the writing is so detailed and in depth. a fair warning though to the first time reader as this fic can get very confusing at times but trust me it is worth it.

#mcu recs #atla recs #hp recs #bnha recs #spn recs #my fic recs #bullying tw #rape tw

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chat-noir-always-here · 4 years ago

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Chat Noir’s True Role

So I was thinking about THEM.

Which then led me to thinking about how someone i know recently said this about Chat Noir:

“[Ladybug] doesnt really need [Chat Noir]. Like he’s nice, but she doesn’t really need him.”

...They say as we wrap up Pupeteer of s1--an episode in which Chat Noir is hit by an akuma attack and used against Ladybug.

Needless to say I’m not looking forward to how this person reacts to s2 where that happens A LOT.

But anyhoo, back on topic. I would like to point out this little moment from Reflekdoll and how it kinda depicts LB and CN’s respective roles in a nutshell:

She does actually, kitty--she pokes fun at you and various little things from time to time.

But yes, for the most part Marinette takes her role as Ladybug very seriously.

These are a couple of children at war with a psychopath who would even akumatize a little girl and, although neither of them know it yet, his own son.

Marinette’s role as Ladybug means she is the last line of defense and the one responsible for restoring damages, reviving those killed in akuma attacks, and capturing akumas before they can multiply. For all of s1 she had to operate without Master Fu, meaning she had to act with the knowledge that she was the last line of defense

And we saw how she reacted to not being able to fix things in the New York Special.

Her life as Ladybug isn’t the highlight of her day, the way it is for Adrien. Being LB isn’t her chance for freedom, or her escape from a toxic household, or her path to the one connection she has that lacks silly preconceptions (i.e. “Adrien is perfection.”)

She has a warm home and a loving family to get back to. She has an ideal occupation she’s working towards.

Does Adrien even know what he wants to go to college for? Or did Gabriel decide that for him already?

Thus Marinette who started out her role as Ladybug saying “Clumsy, I’m so clumsy” is now at “It requires a sense of responsibility.” She takes her job seriously because she can’t really see it as anything other than that--a serious task which she cannot fail at lest dangerous consequences befall Paris. And possibly the world.

So Ladybug became “all work, no play.” The leader. The serious one. Because she felt that’s what she had to become.

It’s different for Adrien tho.

What does he have to look forward to at home? The shattered remnants of his family, haunted by the absence of Emilie?

How does he get to spend his free time? He doesn’t have any. His dad has him booked solid throughout the day.

Adrien didn’t become Chat Noir out of sense of duty or obligation. He was offered a chance to wriggle out from under the thumb of his father and the “fashion model” scrutiny and what did he receive in exchange?

The chance to be himself, or to at least figure out who that was.

Really what did Plagg say in the origins special?

He was offered an opportunity to be a little less lonely.

And what did this path lead him to?

Chat Noir is his break from being an overworked, love-starved kid. It’s his chance for freedom and fun. It’s his reminder that there’s a whole world and plenty of wholesome people outside his dad’s shadow and the cold walls of the too-big, too-cold mansion which serves as the constant reminder not only of his mother’s absence but his father’s maltreatment of him

For Adrien being Chat Noir, despite all the risks involved, is fun.

And that’s what he brings to their duo--a chance to laugh, a breath of fresh air, the reassurance that all will be okay in the end. Fun, freedom, reassurance. Most important--what he brings is a very literal sense of lightheartedness.

Yes they’re at war, indefinitely. No they can’t afford to fail. Yes, it’s a serious situation. But they can get through it together because he’s here and he has faith in her. He will never not have faith in her. Even though his own undying loyalty and faith in her may cause her some fear, he knows she will never fail him when it matters

He is the support she needs to get through an otherwise paralyzing situation.

Which, added to her more serious attitude as the leader, results in a balance.

And makes him essential.

#chat noir #ladybug #ladynoir #miraculous ladybug #chat noir defense post #adrien defense post #HE'S ESSENTIAL #I WILL DIE ON THIS MOUNTAIN #miraculous new york #gamer 2.0 #reflekdoll #copycat #origins #stormy weather #style queen

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lgbtqiahistoricalromance · 4 years ago

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LGBTQIA+ Historical Romance Novels w/ Ghosts, Vampires, and Other Gothic Delights!

Graveyard Sparrow by Kayla Bashe (f/f)

Katriona Sparrow, dubbed the Mad Heiress by most of London’s upper class, is the deceptively fragile ward of a foreign nobleman. She can’t stand making small talk with strangers, but she’s unparalleled when it comes to deciphering the dead. On a routine investigation, though, something goes horribly wrong, leaving Katriona catatonic in an upscale hospital and a serial killer with an artistic bent stalking London’s most vulnerable.

Enter Anthea Garlant, a young witch and academic ostracized from polite society for traveling the world without a chaperone.

She devises magical accommodations to protect Katriona from the side effects of her abilities — but as she grows more and more attached to the other woman, her professional façade begins to slip. Will they be able to stop the man who turns beautiful dead women into works of art — the man who is closer to Katriona than anyone suspects?

In The Valley of the Earth by RR Pearl (The Watchers #1) The only thing more dangerous than their chemistry…is their enemies! Mild-mannered Xenoarcheologist Dr. Alec Coimhead and his best friend, Dr. Clemy Armistead, are certain that they have just found the ancient location of an apocryphal battle between demons and angels. Whisked away on a rollicking adventure, Alec finds himself under the watchful eye of Rafe, a taciturn mountain of a man with a mysterious past.

Working with the enigmatic Praesidium, which claims to have protected humanity for generations, Alec clashes with his ethereally handsome bodyguard. As the New Watchers pursue the rambunctious pair across the globe, Alec and Rafe will have to battle ancient terrors and mythical creatures come to life. Racing to the ancient tomb of a fallen angel, Alec and Rafe may lose it all - and each other - to save the world. The Watchers: In The Valleys Of The Earth is the first book in an MM Action Adventure paranormal romance series.

Heart of Stone by Johannes T. Evans

The year is 1764, and following a glowing recommendation from his last employer, Henry Coffey, vampire, takes on a new personal secretary: young Theophilus Essex. The man is quite unlike any secretary - or any man, for that matter - that Henry has ever met. — ‘Heart of Stone’ is a slowly unfolding period romance between a vampire and his inimitably devoted clerk: lushly depicted in flowing, lovingly appended prose, we follow the slow understanding these two men grasp of one another, and the cross of their two worlds into each other’s.

Henry Coffey, immortal and ever-oscillating between periods of delighted focus upon his current passion project, is charming, witty, and seems utterly incapable of closing his mouth for more than a few moments; in contrast, Theophilus Essex is quiet and keenly focused, adopting an ever-flat affect, but as time goes on, he relaxes in his employer’s presence.

Craving resounding intimacy but with an ever aware of the polite boundaries for their situation, Coffey and Essex perform a slow dance as they grow closer to one another, and find themselves entangled.

The Strange Case of the Big Sur Benefactor by Jess Faraday (f/f and m/m)

Billiwack, California, 1884. When translator Rosetta Stein comes across her rival, Bartholomew Vincent, under attack by weird, raven-headed man-beasts behind the infamous Puckered Rosebud Gentleman’s Club, she senses opportunity. She rescues him in exchange for a crack at the commission he stole from under her nosea strangely inscribed artifact found by Big Sur bigwig George Taylor Granville in the Santa Lucia mountains. Misfortune has stalked Vincent from the moment he took on the project, and he’s only too happy to share it. In the meantime, a lady marshal has come to Billiwack, investigating rumors of strange, unlicensed weapons, and she can’t seem to decide if she’d rather kiss Rosetta or arrest her. And Vincent is suffering romantic complications of his own, in the forms of Rosetta’s charming layabout brother, and an amorous professor who won’t take God, no! for an answer.

The Harvest Moon by Joshua Ian (Darkly Enchanted Romance #1)

England, 1834. On the night of a harvest moon, in the shadows of late autumn, Malcolm comes across a quaint village tucked away in the forest. It seems the perfect spot for a weary traveller to lay his head, and maybe find a little company. But there is dark magic afoot, and lots of local gossip swirls around the seductive titian-haired weaver, Daniel. All Malcolm seeks is a night’s pleasure. He never suspected he would have to worry about losing his life. Or his heart.

The Ghost of Hillcomb Hall by Joshua Ian (Darkly Enchanted #2)

England, 1910. Landscape designer Jonas Laurence arrives at the cheerless and fog enswathed Hillcomb Hall, home to the Earl of Stanley and his family, to renovate their crumbling gardens. With a great storm crashing all around, his time is at the mercy of the house’s odd and mysterious occupants. Captivated by the hauntingly attractive portrait of Lord Stanley’s ancestor, which constantly seems to watch and taunt him, Jonas’s dreams become weird and distressing. And his waking moments are consumed by the strange stories and weird atmosphere of the manor estate. Ghostly visits in the night leave Jonas no choice but to accept his attraction to the otherworldly spirit from the painting. But is this affaire de coeur real? Or it all just a trick of the mind, a sinister game being played by the inhabitants of Hillcomb Hall?

Kinship and Kindness (Paranormal Society Romance Book One) by Kara Jorgensen (transmac MC)

Bennett Reynard needs one thing: to speak to the Rougarou about starting a union for shifters in New York City before the delegation arrives. When his dirigible finally lands in Louisiana, he finds the Rougarou is gone and in his stead is his handsome son, Theo, who seems to care for everyone but himself. Hoping he can still petition the Rougarou, Bennett stays only to find he is growing dangerously close to Theo Bisclavret.

Theo Bisclavret thought he had finally come to terms with never being able to take his father’s place as the Rougarou, but with his father stuck in England and a delegation of werewolves arriving in town, Theo’s quiet life is thrown into chaos as he and his sister take over his duties. Assuming his father’s place has salted old wounds, but when a stranger arrives offering to help, Theo knows he can’t say no, even if Mr. Reynard makes him long for things he had sworn off years ago.

As rivals arrive to challenge Theo for power and destroy the life Bennett has built, they know they must face their greatest fears or risk losing all they have fought for. With secrets threatening to topple their worlds, can Theo and Bennett let down their walls before it’s too late?

The Death Under the Dark Arches by Selina Kray (Stoker and Bash #3) Sing a song of sixpence A stage full of fright One two-faced blackbird Won’t last the night

When a phantom presence lures Hieronymus Bash into a deadly game, threatening to kill one of the players at his beloved Gaiety Theater each day until famed actor Horace Beastly returns to the stage, London’s premier consulting detective is on the case. The trouble? Horace Beastly is Hiero’s alter ego and the true object of this murderous obsession. When the current star of the show is struck down, Hiero has to risk everything by stealing back the spotlight.

After a golden summer together, DI Tim Stoker would do everything in his power to protect the man he loves. But a specter from his own past proves an unexpected, and perhaps fatal, distraction.

Scheming prima donnas, grudge-fuelled critics, and an axe-wielding theater ghost are all out for blood. Will Hiero and Tim unmask this menace before the final curtain call, or are they past the point of no return?

Secrets of Milan by Edale Lane (The Night Flyer Trilogy #2) (f/f)

Some secrets are meant to stay hidden.

While Florentina as the Night Flyer searches for a mysterious underworld organization that has attempted to murder the woman she loves, Maddie struggles to deal with the danger Florentina is courting. Her brother, Alessandro, has become the most prominent merchant of Milan, but the Night Flyer uncovers a secret so shocking it could destroy them all.

Secrets of Milan is the second book in Edale Lane’s Night Flyer Trilogy, a tale of power, passion, and payback in Renaissance Italy.

The Gentleman Attraction: a short victorian mm paranormal romance by Connor Peterson

Emerson Mallory never mixes business and pleasure. His eyes might wander but he certainly wouldn’t risk his professional reputation over a tryst. Not even for a silver-haired scoundrel who clearly knows his way around a bedroom and makes his heart race with just one look.

When a flirtatious train ride turns into a weekend in close quarters, Bennet Clarke doesn’t agree that it would be best to leave their attraction at the door. He gave up worrying about human sensibilities the night he became a vampire centuries ago, and right now he wants more than one taste of Emerson’s charm and unnerving ability to see past his cavalier masks.

Their host has a few secrets of their own and a madcap plan that requires Emerson to enlist Bennet’s help. When the inevitable happens, Emerson begins to think that maybe Bennet’s way of looking at things isn’t so bad. Bennet, however, is faced with a dilemma. Keep up the ruse, or confess that Emerson has no idea who he’s gotten involved with.

Amidst the flurry of activity surrounding their host, the two men will have to keep their affair secret, plan a successful party, and decide if forever is too much to ask.

The Faerie Hounds of York by Arden Powell

England, 1810. The north is governed by a single rule. Faerie will take as it pleases.

William Loxley is cursed. A pale and monstrous creature haunts his dreams, luring him from London to the desolate, grey landscape of his forgotten childhood. There, it will use him to open a door to Faerie—a fate that will trap Loxley in that glittering, heathen otherworld forever.

His only hope of escaping the creature’s grasp lies with John Thorncress, a dark and windswept stranger met on the moors. The longer Loxley stays in Thorncress’ company, the harder it becomes to fight his attraction to the man. Such attraction can only end in heartbreak—or the noose.

But Thorncress has his own bleak ties to Faerie. They come creeping in with the frost, their howls carrying on the winter wind. If Thorncress’ past catches up with him before they can break the curse, then Loxley will not only lose his soul. He’ll lose Thorncress, too.

Best Laid Plaids by Ella Stainton (Kilty Pleasures #1)

Scotland, 1928 Dr. Ainsley Graham is cultivating a reputation as an eccentric. Two years ago, he catastrophically ended his academic career by publicly claiming to talk to ghosts. When Joachim Cockburn, a WWI veteran studying the power of delusional thinking, arrives at his door, Ainsley quickly catalogues him as yet another tiresome Englishman determined to mock his life’s work. But Joachim is tenacious and openhearted, and Ainsley’s intrigued despite himself. He agrees to motor his handsome new friend around to Scotland’s most unmistakable hauntings. If he can convince Joachim, Ainsley might be able to win back his good name and then some. He knows he’s not crazy—he just needs someone else to know it, too.

Joachim is one thesis away from realizing his dream of becoming a psychology professor, and he’s not going to let anyone stop him, not even an enchanting ginger with a penchant for tartan and lewd jokes. But as the two travel across Scotland’s lovely—and definitely, definitely haunted—landscape, Joachim’s resolve starts to melt. And he’s beginning to think that an empty teaching post without the charming Dr. Graham would make a very poor consolation prize indeed…

Where There’s a Kilt, There’s a Way by Ella Stainton (Kilty Pleasures #2)

Sweden, 1930 Two years ago, Dr. Ainsley Graham proved the existence of ghosts, and fell in love–hard to top that. But a trip to Sweden to research at a prestigious University for the summer is nothing to sneeze at, especially since his partner, psychologist Joachim Cockburn, will be teaching alongside him. A change of scenery might be just the thing.

Their idyllic trip to Sweden is interrupted by a ghost with a proclivity for rude hand gestures and graphic curse words–and a ghastly history begging to be investigated. Life among the living is complicated, too, by a gruff professor who can’t take his eyes off Ainsley, and an enticing new job offer for Joachim. What starts as an adventurous trip abroad turns into mayhem, murder, and…a magical moose? And everyone–well, perhaps not the moose–is a suspect in the death of the ghostly young man who brings them

together to expose secrets, loves lost, and a crime that will shock them all. The Harp and the Sea by Lou Sylvre and Anne Barwell (Magic in the Isles #1) In 1605, Robbie Elliot—a Reiver and musician from the Scottish borders—nearly went to the gallows. The Witch of the Hermitage saved him with a ruse, but weeks later, she cursed him to an ethereal existence in the sea. He has seven chances to come alive, come ashore, and find true love. For over a century, Robbie’s been lost to that magic; six times love has failed. When he washes ashore on the Isle of Skye in 1745, he’s arrived at his last chance at love, his last chance at life.

Highland warrior Ian MacDonald came to Skye for loyalty and rebellion. He’s lost once at love, and stands as an outsider in his own clan. When Ian’s uncle and laird sends him to lonely Skye to hide and protect treasure meant for Bonnie Prince Charlie’s coffers, he resigns himself to a solitary life—his only companion the eternal sea. Lonely doldrums transform into romance and mystery when the tide brings beautiful Robbie Elliot and his broken harp ashore.

A curse dogs them, enemies hunt them, and war looms over their lives. Robbie and Ian will fight with love, will, and the sword. But without the help of magic and ancient gods, will it be enough to win them a future together?

Starcrossed by Allie Therin (Magic in Manhattan #2)

When everything they’ve built is threatened, only their bond remains… 1925 New York

Psychometric Rory Brodigan’s life hasn’t been the same since the day he met Arthur Kenzie. Arthur’s continued quest to contain supernatural relics that pose a threat to the world has captured Rory’s imagination—and his heart. But Arthur’s upper-class upbringing still leaves Rory worried that he’ll never measure up, especially when Arthur’s aristocratic ex arrives in New York. For Arthur, there’s only Rory. But keeping the man he’s fallen for safe is another matter altogether. When a group of ruthless paranormals throw the city into chaos, the two men’s strained relationship leaves Rory vulnerable to a monster from Arthur’s past.

With dark forces determined to tear them apart, Rory and Arthur will have to draw on every last bit of magic up their sleeves. And in the end, it’s the connection they’ve formed without magic that will be tested like never before.

Automata by Hayden Thorne (Curiosities #2)

A disastrous incident at a ball in St. Jude threatens to undo Alexej Sauveterre, and his protective adoptive family whisk him off to San Marco, a mythical and romantic city in the water. Born sickly, young Alexej has grown up resigned to the fact that only his family’s immense wealth makes him barely palatable to other gentlemen seeking partners.

The family’s sojourn in San Marco at first promises a much-needed distraction to Alexej when his older brother introduces him to an aristocratic inventor of automata as well as an old school friend who now tours the European continent as a classical pianist. Baseless hope and heartbreak, however, seem to follow Alexej everywhere.

Alexej’s fascination for automata and his hopeless infatuation with Briant Cousineau draw the attention of an entity from the otherworld, one that’s been wandering the globe for unwary souls to claim through cursed wishes. San Marco’s winged lion summons the city’s supernatural guardians in answer, and in the midst of glittering balls, magical clockwork puppets, and lonely dreams, a terrifying fight for Alexej’s soul darkens the streets of a fading city.

Extensive List from 2018 Even more for 2019

#historical romance #gothic romance #f/f romance #sapphic romance #lgbt romance #gay romantic comedy

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5-seconds-of-bucky · 4 years ago

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Glad It’s You (Shawn Mendes Soulmate!au)

A/N: We got all kinds of classic tropes and au’s in here. Coffee shop, friends to lovers, soulmate. Also, let’s appreciate the fact that it’s actually of decent length this time :) My longest fic yet!

Also, I’m aware that the timeline of some events that correspond to real life aren’t perfect but for the sake of my sanity please go with it

Summary: Shawn lives in a world in which he believes he doesn’t have a soulmate until he starts feeling the emotions of someone else. You live in a world where undiagnosed social anxiety prevents you from finding yours. After not seeing each other for three years, the bond you once had is no longer as strong. How does Shawn tell you that he thinks you’re his soulmate when you’re still scared to talk to him like you once did?

Word count: 8.9k+

Warnings: Reader is heavily implied to have social anxiety, swearing, descriptions of an anxiety attack

*Disclaimer: The depiction of social anxiety is based off of my own experience and research and may or may not accurately reflect the experience of other people with SAD*

It was hard to tell if soulmates made life infinitely better or perpetually more difficult.

The discrepancy probably stemmed from the fact that not everyone had the same soulmate indicator. Some had the tattoos of the occupation of their soulmate. Some couldn’t see color until they met theirs. Others could feel the emotions of the other person. There was an endless array of indications. Oftentimes, soulmates had different indicators. It wasn’t rare for someone to have a tattooed name while their soulmate could feel the other’s emotions.

Since the day you were born, the initials S.M. were tattooed on the inside of your wrist. As a child it was a game. You asked every person you met what their name was, your mind consumed with the idea of eternal love that had been ingrained from a young age. There was always a moment of disappointment when they would tell you “Sammy Jones” or “Eric Miller”. With all the adults romanticizing the idea of soulmates, it was hard not to look for yours in every place you could.

For a long time, Shawn thought he didn’t have a soulmate. There were no indicators while he was growing up to show that he could have one. He could see color and there were no special tattoos marking his body. It was a source of shame when his friends would ask, “What about you?” after telling him about theirs. Watching his friends talking about their indicators and finding their soulmates was frustrating. He was a normal kid. What did he do to deserve a life of loneliness that only a soulmate could fill?

Even when his career as a singer launched and he started to understand why it was possible that he might never find love, it was hard to comprehend that he was destined for no one. Was he really that undeserving of love?

He was twenty when he started feeling someone else’s emotions.

It came out of nowhere. He was celebrating the release of his third album and he couldn’t have been happier. He was on cloud nine, meeting everyone at the party with an enthusiastic smile and hug. He felt complete, even. He had stopped dwelling on his lack of soulmate and instead focused on putting everything he had into his songwriting.

It was the best choice he’d ever made. His music blossomed and his mental health was better than ever. All the anxiety of being alone and hoping that something, anything, would pop up to show him that he was meant for someone had started to fade to the background. Maybe he would never truly be over the fact that there was no perfect match for him but he could try to block it out of his mind.

There was a point in his life when he thought that maybe he did have a soulmate. That the system was screwed up and he did have a person. He was 16 and his career was already taking off but he couldn’t help but think that he was falling in love with you, his best friend, while he also fell in love with making music.

You were by his side through it all: random nights when he’d ask you to come over to help him come up with lyrics, days when it started to get a little too much, evenings when he just needed a quick break. You were the best of friends and there was a bond you thought would never be broken.

One day, he realized that he didn’t need some tattoo or the ability to read your thoughts; you were meant for each other. Neither of you could deny the pull you felt when you were together and random people who didn’t know better often mistook you for a couple.

But he realized too late. He went on his first world tour and wasn’t sure how to tell you his feelings when he was constantly so far away. You liked plans and stability; his life didn’t offer that in any capacity.

And then it was too hard to stay connected. He was touring and you were still trying to finish school. There just wasn’t time for you to talk to him at 3:30 in the morning. So you lost touch. There was a text every once and awhile. An empty promise of “we need to meet up” or “wanna talk?”

You both decided in your minds that it wasn’t meant to be. That you had a different soulmate and he had none. It’s been three years now since you were together to have a real conversation. You were beginning to grow frustrated with the search for your soulmate and Shawn had given up all together.

That was, until he felt a surge of anxiety hit him like a truck in the middle of his party. It lasted no more than three seconds but he couldn’t quite shake the feeling after it passed. He had no idea where it came from. One second he felt on top of the world, the next like he couldn’t stoop lower.

It had only been an hour and a half but you were ready to leave the party. It had been an eventful night by your standards. You had talked to two people besides your roommate, which was two more than usual. Your roommate, Alana had been by your side the whole night, a promise she had to make before you agreed to come, but she eventually had to go to the bathroom, leaving you leaning against a wall by yourself. She had only been gone for three minutes, you could feel all the anxiety creeping up on you.

Do they think I look lonely? My friend will be back in a minute, I swear!

If I look at my phone they might think I’m just chilling.

They probably think I’m that weirdo that stands against the wall the whole time and doesn’t talk to people.

Calm down. Nobody cares what you’re doing. They’re all doing their own thing.

. . . They looked at me funny. They think I’m weird.

Oh can we just go home?

As much as you tried to tell yourself that no one cared that you were standing against the wall by yourself, there was that part of you that convinced you that they cared a lot. You were already exhausted purely from being around all the people and loud music. Alana had been gone for three minutes and in those three minutes you had begun to shake and sweat just the slightest bit. You knew that nobody was judging you, it was irrational, but in the back of your mind told you otherwise.

Shawn excused himself from the room, taking a minute to gather his thoughts. While it wasn’t completely abnormal for random bouts of anxiety to hit him, this one felt different. Foreign, as though it wasn’t his own emotions, rather, someone else’s.

He wiped his hands on his pants, confused as to why they were so sweaty all of a sudden. It wasn’t particularly hot yet he felt warm. Maybe he was worrying too much. It was probably nothing. He ran a hand through his hair before going back to the party, putting a smile on his face and the past ten minutes behind him.

“Hey man, you alright?” Brian asked as he approached him.

‘Yeah, just needed to go to the bathroom.”

“You sure? You look a little shaken.” He wasn’t blind to how Shawn’s eyes were darting around and how he appeared a little more closed off than usual.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He turned his head when someone else called his name and nodded to Brian before heading over to them. He spent the rest of the night doing his best to look excited, but those three seconds plagued his mind the whole time.

While Shawn struggled to keep his hopes of a soulmate under wraps, you were more desperate than ever to find yours. It seemed like all of your friends were finding theirs and you were perpetually alone.

With the way you tended to shy away from meeting new people, most people assumed you didn’t want to find your soulmate. That you would rather live a life alone, or that maybe you were never assigned a soulmate to begin with.

You had met a few potential soulmates after losing touch with Shawn. Every time you heard an S.M. name your heart stopped. Maybe you had finally found them. You pushed past the fear of approaching them, rationalizing it with the thought that this could be your only chance to find them. It never worked though. They all had an indicator pointing towards someone else, leaving you upset and embarrassed.

There was always a small part of you that thought Shawn could be your soulmate, even if he didn’t have any indication of one. You were sure he thought the same way but you lost touch before either of you could really say anything about it.

You thought about asking him to meet up when he was in town a few times but something stopped you every time. The thought of what if he doesn’t remember me? or worse, what if he doesn’t want to talk to me? was enough to keep you from sending the text.

It was easy to ignore your loneliness when you could bury yourself in schoolwork, which you had a tendency of doing. It was the easiest excuse to get out of everything. Don’t want to go to a party? Oh, I have to finish editing my essay. Alana tried to set you up on a blind date? I have tests coming up I need to study for.

Alana was determined to help you find your soulmate, even if you didn’t want to cooperate.

“Come on, Y/N. Maybe they’ll be at this party! I promise there won’t be a ton of people there and I know you finished that essay last night cause you told me about it and said that you were looking forward to a work free night,” she said, closing your laptop so you couldn’t “work” on your already finished essay.

“But I want to go over it a few more times to make sure everything is right,” you replied. “Besides, we went to a party last month.”

“Exactly, last month. Let’s go.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“You’re never going to meet your soulmate just sitting at your desk and pretending to work on an essay.”

“It’s not entirely impossible.”

“Y/N.”

So that’s how you ended up at the party, looking around for a potential soulmate. You insisted that they wouldn’t be there; they never were, but Alana insisted that a night out would be good for you, no matter the soulmate circumstance, and dragged you along.

Truth be told, it was a good thing she forced you to attend. If you had it your way, you would spend most nights in your room, ignoring the rest of the world and sitting on your phone. You were fine hanging with close friends every once and awhile, but a night in was always more appealing.

According to Alana, however, that wasn’t normal, and you needed to go out in the world and talk to people, unless you wanted to be alone forever.

You would say, “But I do want to be alone forever. If you haven’t noticed, I don’t even like going to the bank, much less a party filled with people I don’t know.”

And she would say, “Please, I know that you want to find your soulmate and the only reason you don’t like going to the bank is because it makes you nervous and you’re worried that the people working there are going to be mad at you for no reason.”

So you would say, “I’ve probably met all the potential soulmates already. What’s the chance that some random person is going to show up to the party and just happen to be that person?”

And she would tell you, “People randomly meet their soulmates all the time. Yours isn’t going to walk through this door without knowing you first. If you don’t at least leave this dorm you’ll never meet them. Think of how lonely they must feel, waiting for you to come out of hiding.”

And, as much as you wished you could, you couldn’t really argue with that. The real problem after that was talking to people. You argued that you’re already there, so there’s no reason that if your soulmate was at the party, they couldn’t come find you. Alana tried to get you to socialize by walking around with you and introducing you to new people, but they were usually more interested in talking with her than you.

That’s how you ended up against the wall, allowing yourself to overthink while Alana went to the bathroom.

Shawn continued to experience those random emotions throughout the tour. Random flashes of feelings that weren’t quite his. He would be lounging around when he would suddenly feel excited and energetic, only for it to pass by within a few seconds. One time, he was feeling particularly miserable when a surge of adrenaline and anger came through him.

He had no idea where the feelings were coming from. He was starting to think that they were somehow connected to his soulmate.

A glimmer of hope after years of desperation and disappointment.

Part of him wanted to dismiss it, thinking that no, I can’t have a soulmate. I’ve worked way too hard to get past this to dwell on it again. The other part wanted to take the idea and run with it.

He tried to argue with himself that it couldn’t be soulmate related.

It’s not like it happening all the time or constantly in the back of my mind.

How would this help me find them anyways?

It’s all in my head.

Still, it did little to block the thought that maybe, just maybe, it was related.

It was a quiet day at the coffee shop. Granted, most days were fairly quiet, as the shop was located in a secluded area, but still. You assumed it was mainly attributed to the fact that exams were coming up and people didn’t have time to drive down to the shop when there was a Starbucks much closer to the dorms. You were in the same predicament, having your books splayed out on the counter to study in between customers.

You and Shawn used to come to the coffee shop every Friday after school. Even after Shawn left to go on tour and live life as a rockstar, you made sure to visit the shop at least once a month. Afterall, you were friends with the owner, Eileen, and you would hate to just stop coming and never see her again.

You eventually landed a job there. It was a little bit of a drive from the dorms but you knew that when Eileen offered you the job, you wouldn’t be able to find one with as good pay and flexible hours anywhere closer. Sometimes being friends with the owner for a long time has its perks.

There was a collage of photos on the wall behind the register that made the place really feel like home. There were tons of random photos ranging from when the shop first opened to when Eileen took a picture of a slice of cake she insisted had a face in it.

You appeared on the wall a few times, but your favorite picture was the one of you and Shawn right before he left for tour the first time. You were both laughing in the picture, Shawn’s arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. It was the last time you went to the shop together and you remembered just how fun of a time it was. It always left an ache in your heart when you looked at it, remembering all the good times you had together.

You didn’t have many other close friends, so once Shawn left for tour you felt a lot lonelier. Your mom tried to get you to make new friends, but it wasn’t as easy for you as she insisted it was.

“Why can’t you talk to the people across the road? They have a girl your age.”

“But she already has a friend group. We’ve lived across the street from each other for years. It would be weird if I suddenly introduced myself and tried to break into her friend group.”

“You’re never going to make friends if you don’t talk to people.”

“I have friends.”

“But don’t you want to hang out with more than two people?”

“No, I have my friends. That’s all I need.”

More often than not, you did wish you had more than two friends, or that Shawn would come back and eliminate the need to make new ones, but wishing did nothing to help your loneliness. You made a few more friends once you went to college, and you were completely okay with your small group, but it never satisfied the longing to see Shawn again.

“What are we doing here?” Brian asked as Shawn pulled into the parking lot of a worn down but homely looking building. “And what is this place?”

“It’s a coffee shop I used to come to every week. I haven’t seen Eileen in years,” Shawn said with a wistful look as he parked the car.

“Eileen?”

“The owner.”

Brian huffed, realizing that they would be stuck there for a while if Shawn knew the owner. He liked to talk to people. And when he talked, he talked and talked and talked.

“Relax, I’ll buy you a coffee.”

They both got out of the car and walked into the shop, Shawn smiling when he heard the bell above the door ring. He looked around for a second, noting how almost nothing changed since he’d last been there a few years ago. The chairs and tables were still in the same places, same coffee smell, even that stuffed cat that Shawn gave Eileen as a joke was still sitting on the windowsill.

The only big change he noticed was the photo wall. There were a lot more photos than he remembered. He wondered if he would still be able to find that picture of you and him.

He looked to the counter and saw a girl with Y/H/C hair, her head buried in the textbooks that were scattered across the counter.

“Dude, we getting coffee or what?” Brian said with a teasing smile, walking closer to the counter to read the menu posted on the wall behind it.

You were so invested in studying that you didn’t even hear the bell ring when they came in, only looking up when you saw someone approaching the counter out of the corner of your eye.

“Oh, hi, sorry ‘bout that. How can I help you?” you said as you looked up, met with the face of an oddly familiar young man.

“Can I get a-”

“Y/N?” Shawn questioned from behind him, confusion painting his face. He hadn’t seen you in three years but you didn’t look all that different. A little more mature, sure, but he could tell it was still obviously you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the familiar voice, glancing behind Brian to see Shawn. Your eyes widened at his appearance, no longer a boy but now a man. “Shawn?”

“Hey, Y/N, can you empty the garbage and put it out back?” Eileen asked as she walked out of the small kitchen area that was closed off from the rest of the store. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Shawn, a smile taking over her face as she took in how he’d grown up over the years. “Shawn Mendes, is that you?”

“Indeed, it is,” he said with a shy smile. “How are you Eileen?”

“Pretty good if I do say so myself. How are you? How’s the rockstar life treating you?”

“It’s pretty great.”

Meanwhile, you were still staring at your former best friend, mouth slightly agape as you took him in.

“Well why don’t we get you two some coffees? On the house of course. Y/N, stop staring at the poor boy. It’s not like you’ve never met him before.”

You looked at the ground for a second and blushed, smiling at the sound of Shawn’s giggle.

“Alright, what can I get you guys?”

They gave you their orders and you got to work, denying the ten dollar bill Shawn offered you to pay for them.

“On the house, remember? Or are you Mr. rich guy now?” you asked with a slight surge of confidence. You hadn’t seen him in years, but the urge to tease him every chance you got was still there.

“Ooh, okay. You think I’ve changed that much?”

“A little bit. It’s been a while.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I am the exact same person as I was three years ago.”

“I’m not too sure about that, but okay.”

Shawn rolled his eyes and put the bill in the tip jar. “Alright, coffee girl. I would like my coffee in two minutes flat. No more no less. Brian is on a very tight schedule so we have to get him home in time for his nap.”

So Brian was his name. “Your wish is my command, good sir,” you said, bowing at him before turning around to start the drinks. You could hear Shawn giggle behind you, sending an eruption of butterflies to your stomach.

Shawn felt a slight nervous tinge as well. One that wasn’t quite his. He felt completely natural around you but maybe his soulmate was somewhere else feeling nervous about a presentation or something.

You gave the boys their coffee, sticking your tongue out at Shawn when he commented on how it took three and a half minutes instead of two and demanded his money back. You returned to the counter, trying your best to focus on studying. You kept getting distracted by Shawn’s voice, which carried across the shop, as he talked to Eileen. He was sitting in the same two person table against the wall that you used to sit in during your weekly visits.

“You need to go talk to him.” You jumped slightly when you noticed Eileen next to you.

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me,” you replied tentatively, flipping the page of your book in hopes that it would make it look like you were actually studying. The burst of confidence was gone and you came to the reality that you were both no longer the same person you used to be, therefore, you couldn’t keep that same dynamic.

“What makes you say that?”

“I dunno. Just a feeling.”

“Go talk to him. I know you want to.” She gave you a knowing look and you sighed. “I’ll take over for you for a bit. Go talk to your best friend.”

“But he’s with Brian and I don’t really know Brian and what if they don’t want to talk to me they just wanted to hang out and-”

“Y/N.”

Suddenly, the butterflies grew, and it became more of bird wings than butterflies. You took a deep breath and made you way over there, praying that it would be over quickly and you could go back to studying by yourself.

You quietly pulled up a chair and sat in it, waiting for Shawn to finish whatever story he was telling Brian.

“Y/N, just in time,” he said with enthusiasm. “I was just telling Brian the story about Willy the window cat.”

“Ahh, a classic.” Shawn could sense your unease and quickly introduced you to Brian. He was well aware of your lack of people skills and how uncomfortable you got around new people.

You spent the better part of the rest of the hour catching up with each other, Shawn doing a lot more talking than you, which you were completely fine with. You tried your best to not show how nervous you felt.

Even as you tried your best to hide it, Shawn was picking up on the nervous habits. Your lifestyles might’ve changed but you were still the shy girl who subconsciously picked at the inside of her elbow and bounced her foot excessively when nervous. It didn’t matter if you hadn’t seen each other in years, he still knew you like the back of his hand.

There were days, back when you were really friends, where he would reach over and grab your hand so you would stop picking, or place his hand on your knee to stop the bouncing. He chose to ignore it now, realizing that you had grown apart, and now wasn’t the time to jump back in so intimately. You were always self conscious about the habits and he didn’t want to make you more nervous by pointing them out.

Even though he was more focused on you throughout the conversation, he noticed how Brian was seemingly getting more and more bored hearing him talk. As much as he wanted to stay and talk to you, he knew he should probably get going. This was supposed to be a quick pit stop to drop in and say hello, not an hour long catch up with the girl he used to be sure was his.

“We should get going. I think Brian is going to walk home if I stay here much longer.” Brian’s head perked up at the mention of his name and Shawn chuckled.

“Meet you at the car. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He was up and out the door in a matter of seconds, causing Shawn to chuckle again.

It didn’t sit all that well with you though.

Oh no, he doesn’t like me.

He thinks I’m some weirdo who doesn’t talk.

I barely know the guy and he already hates me.

“We should meet up, just the two of us, sometime. I’m on a break from tour if you’re free anytime soon,” Shawn said, breaking you out of your thoughts. “And don’t worry about Brian. I think he’s just tired.”

It did little to ease your fears but you smiled like it did anyways. Were you that easy to read? “Uhh, yeah. I have exams next week but we can meet after that.”

“Alright, how does the eighteenth sound?”

“That works.” You stood up and put your chair back at the table it came from, turning around to find Shawn closer than you expected him to be.

“Awesome. Text me your address so I can pick you up and take you somewhere.”

“Okay.” He threw you his signature smile and it made you melt a little.

“It was great seeing you, Y/N. Tell Eileen I said bye.”

“Good seeing you too and you got it.”

He pulled you into a quick side hug and left.

As much as you tried, you couldn’t study for the rest of your shift. Only three more customers came in within the two hours you had left, so you spent a decent amount of time staring at the wall and stressing about meeting up with Shawn. Two weeks gave you plenty of time to stress about it, which led to thinking of ways to get out of it.

Maybe if I don’t text him the address, he’ll forget, you thought as you stared at your phone the next day, messages open to Shawn’s name, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. It could work. That was enough to convince you to turn off your phone and worry about it later. You went back to working on the presentation you were working on, only pausing when you felt the buzz buzz of your phone telling you that you got a text.

From Shawn: Hey, what’s your address? What time do you want me to pick you up?

You panicked slightly, upset that your plan had already fallen apart. You decided to ignore it for the time being. You would worry about it later.

“Hey, Y/N, can I borrow your phone for a second? Mine’s dead,” Alana asked as she came into the dorm.

“Sure,” you said as you handed her the phone, not bothering to look away from your computer.

“Who’s Shawn and why is he asking where you live?”

Your eyes widened as you realized you forgot to clear the message. “He’s just an old friend. We’re uhh meeting up since we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Well are you going to text him back or do I have to do it?”

“I will, later.”

“You’re actually going to do it?” she asked with a curious smile. “And you’re actually going to meet up with him?”

“Yeah . . .”

“I’m holding you to this.”

“What, why? I’m capable of handling my own social life.”

“Sure you are. You’re not getting out of this though. I know that look.”

You sighed and glared at her. She knew you too well. “Do you actually need my phone?”

“Yes, I need to call my mom.” She sent you a sweet smile and you shook your head. “Thank you.”

You texted Shawn at 9:12 that night, six hours after he sent the original message. 9:12 specifically so it looked like you just saw it and responded as soon as you did, not like you ignored it and were planning to send it at a specific time, like 9:15.

He responded thirty seconds later with a thumbs up.

The day of the meetup was stressful. You had already been in your head about it for the past two weeks, but you really started worrying when you realized you had no idea what was going to happen.

Shawn refused to tell you where you were going, only telling you to dress comfortably and that you would only be gone for a few hours. Being a person who liked schedules and knowing exactly what was going on, this didn’t make you too happy. It sounded a lot like a date, which only made you more stressed.

“Do you think this will be okay?” you asked Alana. You were wearing jean shorts and a semi-cute top. Not too fancy but not too casual.

“Is this a date or friend meetup?”

“Friend meetup.”

“You look great.” She could sense the hesitation as you looked in the mirror, deciding if you agreed with her or not. “You’re gonna be fine. From what I’ve heard, you were best friends for a long time. You’ll be back to that in no time.”

“I don’t know. It’s been so long and-” You were interrupted by a text from Shawn telling you he was there if you were ready.

“Go have fun. Take a deep breath and stop worrying about it, alright?”

“Okay.” You gave her a smile before putting your phone in your back pocket and leaving. You could see Shawn leaning against his car and looking at his phone once you left the building.

Shawn had been quite excited to hang out with you again. There wasn’t any part of him that was nervous until he went to get drinks for the two of you that morning. It had been slowly building up all day, but it felt more like his soulmate’s than his own.

“Hey, you,” he said with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“You bet,” you smiled back at him, walking to the other side of the car to get in.

“I got you a frappuccino.” He gestured to the cup holder. “I don’t know if what you like has changed but it’s what you used to get so I hope it’s okay.”

“My taste hasn’t changed a bit,” you chuckled. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”

“Of course. What better way to rekindle our friendship than by reliving the old times?”

“True, true.” You discretely wiped your palms on your shorts, unsure if it was from nerves or the heat. “Want to tell me where you’re going?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.” His eyes had a mischievous glint to them. He knew how much it was bothering you.

“This feels like a first date,” you mumbled, avoiding eye contact. You knew that Shawn was like this by default, but you couldn’t help but feel a little extra awkward anyways.

“Not my intention,” he chuckled. “I just wanted to be nice.”

“I know, I’m just awkward.”

Shawn laughed and shook his head.

You didn’t drive for much longer, arriving at a small park no more than fifteen minutes after you started.

“I figured we could walk and catch up, if you’re good with that.”

“That’s good. Why didn’t you just tell me we were going to the park though?”

“Wanted you to get worked up about it.”

You gasped. “That’s mean.”

“Gotta balance the niceness out somehow.”

You spent two hours walking around and catching up. You felt yourself ease up as you talked. He was still your Shawn and he barely changed from the last time you talked. The evening ended with a hug and promise to hang out again soon.

“See,” Alana told you when you told her how well it went. “Sometimes you need to just give yourself the push.”

The more and more time you spent together, the more and more Shawn became sure that you were the mystery soulmate whose emotions he had been feeling.

He would feel a twinge of extra excitement before you hung out or right before you texted him I got an A on that essay!!!!!

He was never completely sure though and never told you about it. He wanted to test the theory but wasn’t sure how he could do it without you knowing.

Meanwhile, your search for your soulmate slowed. You came to terms that they would come when the time was right and that you needed to enjoy life as it was. Your best friend was on a break from his hectic life for the first time in a long time and you wanted to spend all the time you could with him. You felt a little less anxious when you were around him, which could also be attributed to the lack of school work due to summer break, but you liked to believe he was helping.

The great thing about Shawn was that he knew not to push too hard. Alana didn’t always know when to stop pushing you towards doing things out of your comfort zone. You’ll admit, it was sometimes good for you. Other times, it caused way more anxiety than necessary and you would be out of it for the rest of the day. Shawn, on the other hand, could tell when something really could be too much and would stop.

There was only one time when he knew he was pushing too hard but continued anyways.

“You wanna be my date to the Grammys?” You had discussed his nomination earlier that day, but he never mentioned bringing someone with him before.

“Date?” You had a playful smirk on your face and Shawn just rolled his eyes and nudged your shoulder.

“Do you wanna be my extra person who’s my best friend, not date, cause I don’t have a date, date?

“As amazing as that sounds, I don’t think so. Way too many people.” You hoped he would just drop the subject.

“Come on, it would be fun. Besides, how often do you get an invitation to the Grammys?

“Never . . . because I don’t want to go.”

“Please, Y/N. I don’t have anyone else to take and we would have such a good time.”

“Take Aaliyah.”

“She probably has stuff going on.”

You have tons of other friends. Take one of them.”

“Yeah but you’re my best friend and I want to take you.”

“Shawn I really don’t think I should. There’s gonna be a ton of people there and I don’t have the money to buy a fancy dress-”

“I’ll buy you a dress and stay with you the entire night.”

“I can’t ask you to do that. Besides-”

“Please, Y/N. I will beg you every day until you say yes. Just this one time, then I promise I will never ever make you go to a party or awards show of any kind.”

“Fine,” you sighed. You knew that it was a bad idea but you also knew that Shawn would hold true to the begging.

“Thank youuu.” He reached over and pulled you into a hug

“You owe me.”

The week before the Grammys was more anxiety inducing than anything in your entire life.

You got your dress a month ago but was starting to have second thoughts on it. Was it fancy enough? You had scrolled through endless pictures of past Grammy looks and everything looked so much more elaborate than your midnight blue dress. Tiffany had picked out the dress for you, noting how you wanted something elegant but nothing that would make you stick out.

You had to admit, you loved the dress. It fit you perfectly. You were yet to show Shawn but you knew he would love it. There was just one part of you that thought that everyone would think it was too simple and know that you had no business being there.

Shawn was doing his best to help you through the anxiety.

“Think of the best possible situation,” he told you.

“Nobody notices me and I stay completely under the radar or they note that I’m your friend who’s been seen with you before and leave me alone.”

“Now tell me the worst possible situation.”

“I do something embarrassing and stick out so that everyone notices and realizes that I’m obviously not supposed to be there.”

“See how the worst case scenario is so much more unlikely to happen?”

“Shawn, I know it’s irrational but I can’t help it. No matter what, I’m going to have a worst case scenario.”

“I know you are. Y/N, I do too. But think for a second,” he said. “Everyone else is too caught up in their own affairs to give a flying shit about what you’re doing. Unless you walk the red carpet with me, they probably won’t even notice you.”

You knew Shawn was right. You knew the worst case scenario was irrational, you just couldn’t help but dwell on it; you were so scared of embarrassing yourself. You were once again planning excuses for not being able to go. I’m really sick and throwing up everywhere or There’s a family emergency. I can’t go.

But even as you worried more and more, you knew how much you needed to do it for Shawn. He had done so much for you. You could do this one thing.

“You ready?” Shawn asked with a huge grin. He had been getting more and more excited by the day. The happiness blocked the intensely anxious feelings of his soulmate to the slightest. At this point, he was almost positive you were his soulmate. Of course, anyone could be this anxious for a long period of time and it just coincidental to yours. He wanted more time to think about it though and if it was true, to tell you at a time when you were in a better mental state.

“Not really, but I don’t think I have a choice,” you said through the door. You had to admit, you felt absolutely beautiful. Your thoughts of sticking out because of your dress were fading with every look in the mirror.

“I’m sure you look absolutely fantastic.”

“That’s not the problem but thank you.” You both giggled at that and you wished you could get over yourself and go out there.

“You know I’ll be with you the whole night, right?” His tone changed to a more serious one, and it was comforting to know he cared so much.

“I know, but still.”

“Can I see you now? This is easier when I can see your face.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, opening the door slightly before taking a deep breath and stepping out. You grasped your hands behind your back and smiled shyly as Shawn stared at you in awe.

“Wow,” he whispered. “You look absolutely stunning.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks and you looked down to your feet.

“Come here.” He pulled you into a hug, his head resting on your head as yours was on his chest. “You’re going to be amazing tonight, okay? So stop worrying so much and enjoy it as it comes.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know you are, I just wanted to remind you.” He squeezed you tighter for a second and drew back, smiling widely before completely letting go.

You both said nothing as you got into the car to go to the show, allowing yourselves to try to relax before the long night ahead of you.

“Good luck,” you grinned as he prepared to get out of the car for the red carpet.

“Thanks, see you soon.” He took your hand and squeezed it, causing the butterflies in your stomach to explode. He stepped out of the car and winked at you, laughing at the finger guns you sent him before he closed the door.

You both agreed that it was best for you not to walk the red carpet. You didn’t want to be bombarded with questions asking if you were in a relationship and Shawn didn’t want to have to deal with the drama it would cause afterwards. You decided to meet inside, which led to you awkwardly standing around and waiting for him to come in.

After what felt like a lifetime and a half of avoiding eye contact and trying to look like you belonged, Shawn appeared at your side.

“How’d it go?”

“Good. Took some really hot pictures I think people will enjoy.”

“How is that possible? You can’t take hot pictures.”

“As if I haven’t caught you ogling over pictures of me before.”

“As if,” you scoffed and Shawn let out a loud laugh, which made you laugh as well.

“Alright, sassy pants, let’s find our seats.”

The show went well and you eventually realized that you got worked up more than you needed to. You didn’t have to interact with many people and you were able to sit in a seat and enjoy the show more than you thought you could.

What you should have been worried about though, was the afterparty.

Shawn said you didn’t have to go but you could see how much he wanted to. You also knew that if you told him you were going to go home but he should go to the party, he would opt to go with you. So, against your better judgement of what you were up for that night, you decided to go under the condition that Shawn would stay with you the whole time.

It was a little too loud and crowded for your liking but you did your best to hide the discomfort. The faster you got out, the better, but you were going to try to enjoy the party the best you could.

Unbeknownst to you, Shawn could definitely sense your discomfort. Something inside himself was telling him he should take you home, but everytime he suggested you leave, you insisted that you wanted him to have fun and that you would stay until he wanted to go. You knew he came with intentions of talking to other people and refused to leave until he did so.

“But I’ll have fun with you.”

“Shawn Mendes, if you do not socialize tonight, you will spend the rest of your life regretting it so I suggest you start mingling.”

“I feel like that’s an overstatement, but fine.” He started walking away but turned around when he noticed you weren’t following. “Come on, wallflower, I’m not allowed to leave you by yourself.”

You rolled your eyes but pushed yourself off the wall and made your way towards him anyways.

He made his way around, talking to friends and a few people he didn’t know, making sure you were close at all times. You were quiet the whole time, only speaking when asked a question. Like with Alana, people tended to be more interested in the person you were with than you yourself.

Shawn caught you picking at the inside of your elbow a few times. Part of him wanted to scold you for doing it, but he knew it was a subconscious habit and that you couldn’t do much about it unless he pointed it out. He would wrap his arm around you, gently placing his hand over the spot so you couldn’t pick at it. You would sigh once you realized you were doing it again and Shawn would squeeze your upper arm lightly, as if to say, it’s alright.

He eventually gave you a water bottle to keep your hands busy and you accepted it graciously, secretly in awe of how he knew you so well. He was about ready to go after that, drained from the long night, when someone called his name. He made his way towards them and you tried to follow but got blocked off by someone walking in between you. In a split second he was gone, and your anxiety only grew as you struggled to find him.

You found yourself standing next to a table, texting Shawn to tell him where to find you once he was ready to go. You hoped it wouldn’t take too long, but the voice who called him sounded like Niall’s, and you knew they would want to talk for a while.

Shawn was too busy talking to Niall to notice the growing anxiety coming from his soulmate. He didn’t even notice that you weren’t next to him.

You tried your best to blend in, something you thought you were doing a good job of, when someone who looked very vaguely familiar tried to talk to you.

“That dress looks quite lovely on you,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said rather quietly. There was an awkward pause for a second and you wondered if he was waiting for you to say something else.

“Enjoying the party?” He stepped slightly forward to let someone pass behind him.

You stepped back to keep the space, forgetting about the table and knocking into it full force. A loud clanging noise could be heard as a few platters flew off and your eyes grew wide at the realization of what you just did.

The man in front of you laughed but his attention was quickly called elsewhere.The people around you looked behind themselves to see what was going on. The looks of confusion and giggles probably lasted no more than a few seconds, but it was enough to send you into a full panic.

The lights were suddenly too bright and all the noises around you jumbled into a muffle. You pressed your back against a wall as you tried to gain your composure, panicking more when you couldn’t. The music was too loud for anyone to hear your rapid breathing but you wanted nothing more than for someone to come help you; for Shawn to come help you.

“Yeah we definitely need to meet up sometime soon,” Niall said to Shawn.

“Totally. I’m-” He was cut off by a paralyzing burst of panic. He didn’t even have to think to know it was you. The urge to protect you came over him and he quickly excused himself from Niall to find you.

It didn’t take long to see you standing against the wall and curling in on yourself. He felt like he couldn’t get there fast enough. There was nothing he wanted more than to take the worry away from you but it felt like there were a million people in between you.

“Breath, Y/N, breath,” he said once he finally made it to you. Your eyes locked with his and he could see the absolute panic in them. “I’m going to take your arm so we can go outside, okay?”

You nodded frantically, allowing Shawn to guide you to outside. The cool air was a relief but did little to calm you down. Shawn gently leaned you against a wall and put one of your hands on his chest.

“Breath with me, sweetheart,” he said, exaggerating his breathing to help you. “You’re okay. Just focus on breathing.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered once you calmed down and your breathing returned to a normal rate.

“Y/N, no. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I messed up your night and-”

“It’s not your fault. I know exactly how you feel and I promise you, it’s not your fault.” He could see from the look in your eyes that you didn’t believe him and it broke his heart. “Come here,” he said as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one around your waist, one pressing your head to his chest.

“I know you think it’s your fault, but you did absolutely nothing wrong,” he said lowly, leaning his head down close to your ear so you could hear him. “If anything, it’s my fault for not realizing you weren’t with me.” He felt you tense up and rubbed his hand up and down your back. “You are amazing and wonderful and so strong, Y/N. We all have our low points. Nobody is blaming you for anything.”

You didn’t say anything and Shawn took that as a sign to stop talking. He held you in his embrace for a few minutes longer, relaxing a little when he felt your arms wrap around him.

“Let’s get you home.”

“You should stay.”

“Y/N.”

You dropped it and let him call an Uber, hugging him again once he finished. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you felt yourself once again wishing he was your soulmate.

After a long talk with Shawn the next morning, you decided to go to the doctor to get an official diagnosis. The social anxiety diagnosis also came with the recommendation of therapy. It was time to take control of your anxiety and your life.

Shawn was there for it all. Helping you through the bad days and celebrating the good ones. You were celebrating a good one today and Shawn could feel your happiness before you even walked through the door.

“You won’t believe what I did!” You exclaimed once you were seated on the couch. “I needed this tomato sauce but I couldn’t find it anywhere in the store but I knew they had it somewhere. So instead of not getting it, I actually asked one of the people working there where it was.”

“Good job!” The smile on his face was huge as he gave you a high-five. “Was it really that scary?”

“Yes, but I did it, which is more important than if it’s scary.”

He was so proud of you. It had taken a few months, but therapy was doing wonders for you. It might have been small progress, but even small progress was big progress.

He had held off on telling you about the soulmate situation, wanting you to be in a better space before he dropped the bombshell. Now felt like a good time to do it.

“Not to take away from you, but I have some good news myself.”

“Tell me!” The eager look on your face made him even more nervous for some reason, but he knew he needed to do it.

“A few months ago, I started feeling these feelings.”

“Oh wow.”

“Shut up,” he giggled. “They were emotions that weren’t mine. Like, they felt like someone else’s.”

You nodded your head, having an idea of what was coming: he finally found his soulmate and it wasn’t you.

“And at first I couldn’t figure out who they belonged to but then I met you again.” He looked up at you but your face was blank. “And then I was starting to feel feelings you were experiencing. Like you would text me about being happy and that background feeling of extra happiness would be there but I wasn’t sure if it was really you.”

“Are you trying to test it out now?” He could see you trying to put the pieces together.

“No, I kinda already did in a way?” You looked even more confused so he kept going. “When we went to the Grammys I could feel how anxious you were. And then we went to the party and I could feel it but it wasn’t anything that was too overwhelming. Then, I went to talk to Niall, which is when you had that panic attack, right?”

You nodded.

“And I was fine but then there was this really really intense second of pure panic and I just knew. Some kind of protective instinct went off in me and I just had to get to you.”

There was a pause as he let you process what was happening.

“Y/N, I think you’re my soulmate.”

There was a deafening silence but Shawn was too scared to look at your face to see your reaction.

“You really think?”

“I know it sounds crazy but-”

“Could we really be soulmates?”

“. . . yes?” He finally looked at you to see a smile creeping its way along your face.

“Holy fucking cow.” You both burst into laughter, leaning into each other as you did.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Shawn said once your laughs turned into tiny giggles. He looked at you with a glimmer in his eyes.

“I’m glad it’s you too.”

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starsfic · 4 years ago

Text

Smoke and Gold, Chapter 1: Love Potion Mishap

AO3

Summary: Red Son goes to do a task. It...doesn't work out as planned.

Notes: @fosermi

-_-

Life was good.

Qi Xiaotian was enjoying life. He was the delivery boy of one of the greatest (in his biased opinion) noodle shops in the city. His best friend was the greatest (again, in his biased opinion) street racer. He was the future successor and adopted son of the Monkey King, his idol.

Truth be told, the last one's charm had worn off when he was fifteen, a year after he had run away from his parents, met the Monkey King, and had been brought to Flower Fruit Mountain. The teenage angst phase had hit then and he had kinda realized that Sun Wukong was depressed. And lazy. And kinda selfish. And that had killed the awe of it.

But he had also realized that he also loved him. Enough to try. It was slow going and there were bumps in the road but at twenty-one, Xiaotian was happy at how his family had turned out. Sometimes, that love and awe bubbled in his heart and the world turned brighter.

Like now.

It was Xiaotian’s last delivery of the day. He was on one of the city’s high roads and, from his angle and with the sun setting, the city was golden. It was so pretty that he wanted to take out his sketchbook and draw the scene. Unfortunately, he was driving.

And also had a stalker.

Xiaotian parked and got out, ringing the doorbell. The exchanging of food and money went smoothly and he was soon heading back to the noodle cart. He pulled out his phone as he walked. As he pretended to be fiddling, he sneakily caught a picture.

The image loaded easily on the screen: a robot, wearing armor, and wearing the crest of the Bull Demon family. He sent the picture to Wukong before hopping in.

He wasn’t sure why these servants of Princess Iron Fan had started stalking him. Xiaotian hadn’t even noticed until Xiaojiao had pointed it out, two weeks ago. He and his dad had sat down, debating the possibilities. Ultimately, they came up with nothing because, as far as anyone not in Xiaotian’s circle of trust knew, he didn’t have any connection to them.

Who was interested in a simple delivery boy?

The ride back to Pigsy's was tense, ready for something to happen. Nothing happened. But he didn't relax until he was parked in front of the shop with the logo he designed himself.

A bird call made Xiaotian look up, right before entering the shop. He grinned when he saw a familiar bird, flying around, the sunset reflected on golden wings and a clear monkey tail. After a quick look around to confirm the street was empty, he held out his arm. After another circle around, the bird flew down and settled on, careful to not dig his claws into skin. Xiaotian couldn't help his smile.

"Hey, Dad."

-_-

The Bull Clone, hiding on a nearby roof, watched as the bird settled onto the delivery boy's arm. After what appeared to be a one-sided exchange, the boy took the bird into the little hole in the wall. The robot watched this all.

A few miles away, in another part of the city, Iron Fan watched the scene. It was oddly domestic, her new enemy clearly having experience with holding her old enemy. She hissed in distaste. But, the scene would soon be ruined.

She tore her eyes away from the screen to the bottle in her hand. Iron Fan turned it, considering it.

For all purposes, it was a simple glass bottle. The only decoration was a purple ribbon wrapped around the end and the characters written carefully on top of the cork: LOVE. Inside, a purple potion glittered.

This love potion had been part of a scheme of one of her husband's old advisors. They kept the court in order while Iron Fan worked on freeing their king. But this advisor had wanted more. He had been executed a few days ago.

But, despite his betrayal, he had presented a solution to her problem. The door behind her opened. “Yes, Mother?” Red Son said, sounding annoyed. He didn’t understand her desire for petty vengeance, busy as he was. She was so glad she had such a dedicated son, but it would work out.

“I want you to take this,” She handed him the bottle. “And make Sun Wukong’s successor fall in love with a demon.” Red Son adjusted his glasses before looking over the bottle. When he looked up, he was frowning.

“Mother, not to question your judgment, but...wouldn’t it be easier to kill him?”

Iron Fan smiled, reaching out to squeeze her son’s cheeks. “My dear, stupid boy,” she cooed. “If we simply do that, Sun Wukong could track that back to us. We aren’t prepared for that.” She released him to turn back to the screen, considering the shop. “But, if he falls in love with a random demon, he’ll either be dead or kidnapped. Either way, Wukong never tracks it back to us and we’ll have one less obstacle.”

“But-”

“Go.”

She didn’t even have to let out a warning breeze. Red Son groaned but stuffed the bottle in his pocket and marched off. Iron Fan didn’t watch him leave. She was more focused watching Qi Xiaotian leave.

Heading to his doom.

A smirk spread on her face. Victory had never been closer.

She couldn’t wait.

-_-

It was late when Red Son landed on the beach of Flower Fruit Mountain. He had sent Bull Clones to spy months, making sure what was the right hour and path to do a late night attack, if it was ever required. He took off on the back path his robots had marked for him. The bottle of love potion was warm in his pocket.

He walked for what felt like hours, the jungle heat making him sweat, before reaching the second, smaller back path that led to the Monkey King’s cabin. Red couldn’t help but smile at the thrill as he took off down it. Sun Wukong didn’t know he was here.

And he wouldn’t until the trap slammed shut on his so-called successor.

Red finally entered the large cave inside the mountain. Moonlight bathed the cabin, but that wasn’t what he was looking for. He walked around the standing stone the cabin was on until he found what looked like cellar doors.

Nobody knew this, but the manor that the Monkey King had found when he first jumped through the waterfall was still around. The cabin was an entrance to it. The mansion itself had been sunk under the earth to hide it and the treasure it kept from prying eyes.

Unfortunately, prying eyes had found it.

Red opened the doors. There was a creak of rusty hinges. The demon froze. But nobody came out looking at the noise, so he continued down. He entered into a warm dirt and stone tunnel. Red followed the instructions of the Bull Clone that had been brave enough to go down here and went right.

The tunnel this way, straight down, led to a set of gauzy curtains. Red pushed them aside.

A skylight filled the room with moonlight. The bedroom was warm, the floor decorated with multi-colored carpets and the stone walls decorated with artwork. Red had to pause when he noticed one. The little Red Boy depicted on it made him grin. He shook off the happy daze and returned to his task.

He pulled out the bottle as he approached the nest that was made of large rocks, blankets, and pillows, another set of curtains hiding the occupant. Red pushed aside the curtain...and froze.

Dark hair was spread out on the pillow. Dark eyelashes rested on the cheeks of a lovely face. Whatever he was dreaming about had made him pout, revealing soft lips that would be perfect to kiss. Red swallowed before looking away.

No. Nope. Yes, the mortal was lovely and yes he was kinda curious about what his eyes looked like. But there were more important things to do. Like revenge.

Still, he hesitantly swallowed before uncorking the bottle.

Then there was a sudden snort and something else and Qi Xiaotian sat up. Red bit back a yell, the bottle flew out of his hands as he scrambled back, and he landed on his butt. He barely had a moment to wonder where the love potion was before something spilled over him. He groaned as something purple and smelling of orchids rolled over his face.

“Oh no-”

And then he was looking into Xiaotian’s eyes.

They were a beautiful dark brown that reminded him of the dirt that grew Guanyin’s private bamboo grove, warm and full of life. Despite them being open, they were glazed over, clear that he was mostly asleep. Red couldn’t help but wonder what they would look like when bright with excitement. Xiaotian sat up a little longer before falling back down to his bed.

Red stared, feeling his hair give off sparks.

...oh no.

Oh no, he liked him. The love potion had pushed him over that cliff into the horrid fate. He was in love with Qi Xiaotian. Red groaned, moving to collapse on his butt, back against Xiaotian’s nest.

His mother was going to kill him.

#Spicynoodleshipping #my writing #Eros and Psyche AU #Monkie Kid #Lego Monkie Kid #au #Qi Xiaotian #MK #Princess Iron Fan #Sun Wukong #Red Son

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cherrywoes · 4 years ago

Text

ii. the girl in the foxes' den.

chapter two. heads for pikes.

The orphanage was a quaint little thing just on the borders of Shiratorizawa. Surrounded by a small lake dotted with water lilies, lily pads, and other winter resistant flowers that were the staple of your kingdom, it was perhaps the epitome of homeliness—what your brother aspired for the rest of his kingdom during his reign, a peacefulness that couldn’t be broken.

You had played at the lake as children, of course, when your father would sneak the both of you out of your mother’s insufferable tutoring lessons to mingle with the common folk. “To grow and learn,” he had said, but all you had learned was that people only believed in themselves, lived for themselves, and died for themselves. With the exception of Wakatoshi, maybe, you knew that the commoners were just as cutthroat as any other noble; just as worse, perhaps, or more so. You’d witnessed people, more than once, slit throats over the barest crumb of bread, and there was plenty to go around—and that was just amongst nobles.

Shiratorizawa prided itself upon strength and superiority, but that could only get you so far when you couldn’t even trust your neighbors not to stab you in the back.

“Wakatoshi can change that,” you mumbled to yourself. The smell of horse sweat, tangy and distinctly equine, assailed your nostrils; a comforting smell, despite how unappealing it sounded. You’d spent most of your life training or riding horses, after all, and paid quite a lot of attention to them when you weren’t busy wrangling disrespectful court women. Your mare nickered softly the closer you drew to the orphanage, where a singular crowd of children and a nun stood waiting for you to go to them. “Is it just me, or are there more orphans than before? Goshiki?”

The Elite Knight in question swallowed and swerved his head to pay attention to you. He, and another Knight, Semi Eita, had caught up to you as you were exiting the main wall that separated the main city from the palace. You recognized them as Wakatoshi’s close friends, nobles sworn into his personal circle after he was crowned King. They were never far from your brother’s side, so you had to wonder why he left them behind when he could have taken them with him. Tendou was far from the most physically capable man; his eagle form was much more sturdy in terms of battle.

“It makes sense,” Semi said instead, before Goshiki could stutter out an answer. He, like Goshiki, wore the same purple-tinged armor and sweeping crushed velvet cape. You’d found the whole ensemble ridiculous, right down to the plumage on their helms, but Wakatoshi was a stickler for tradition, at least in the uniform’s sense. “A lot of the commoners have come down with a sickness lately. Tracking down the source has been a pain; a lot of them died before we could get to them with a healer in time.”

You frowned, a distinct line on your face. Wakatoshi had always said you had a very foreboding frown, whatever that meant. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

Semi shrugged. You were tempted to kick him off his horse and drag him down into the grass to strangle him for shrugging at you. You didn’t know what Wakatoshi let him get away with, but you hated people you weren’t close with acting casual towards you. It was one of your worst pet peeves, besides girls trying to play Queen, and you were sure your glare was enough to smelt steel if you tried hard enough.

“It wasn’t your place then,” he explained, tugging the reigns to veer around a slab of stone depicting the orphanage’s name. “King Ushijima was adamant that you have no part in it so as to prevent you from catching the illness.”

“And?” With a huff and a subtle side-eye, you watched him move back into place at your flank, staring straight ahead and cleverly avoiding your gaze. “Illness is no issue for me. I am an Ushijima—I don’t get sick.”

And that was true; besides small sicknesses like seasonal allergies or colds, you were invulnerable to everything else. Even poisons, to an extent, as long as they were ones you had been exposed to previously in small amounts. Though you hadn’t gained your eagle form just yet, you had the immunity of a shifter, which your brother found endlessly perplexing. You were grateful for it: it kept you from dying so easily at the hands of an assassin, if it ever came to that. You had been trained well enough to be a deadly opponent since you couldn’t shift, not that anyone except Wakatoshi and your mother knew that. The nobles would have heart attacks if they knew their princess could disarm a man faster than she could finish a single stitch of embroidery.

“He didn’t want to risk it, my lady.” Semi reached up and adjusted the pin of his cloak from poking into the gap between his chain mail and pauldron. “That’s all.”

Your lips drew into a thin line, but you quickly found yourself without time to retort as children swarmed your mare. You squeezed your legs against her sides in warning and carefully dismounted, narrowly avoiding swinging your boot into a poor child’s head when he refused to move out of your way. Goshiki took your hand to allow you to get to the ground without falling and you gave him a grateful nod when another child went straight for your knees to grab ahold of you.

“Children!” The nun scolded, bustling forward with a shiny red face. Her robes looked particularly suffocating in the heat as she began rerouting them all into the tiny group that had been around her previously, giving each one a specific and deliberate warning that perhaps went over deaf ears. She looked at you, an apology in her eyes, although it was eclipsed by the intense dislikement that came from your presence specifically. “Crown Princess [Name]. I was not aware of your visit until early this morning. I’m afraid we aren’t prepared for you at this time.”

You smiled bitterly. You had expected this, of course; nuns, specifically this nun, had an extreme hatred for you whether you were kind to them or not. It all stemmed from one little fact: you were not your mother. They saw you as weak, as prime pickings when Wakatoshi was away. It was a common perception, the same one you had concocted with your brother, and while you were keen on keeping it up for the time being, it didn’t mean you didn’t feel some measure of irritation at being unable to freely express yourself around others. Because you played the docile, meek princess locked away in the castle, you had no true way of earning power except through deception. And that was what you had intended—there was more power in the dark than the light.

“That’s quite alright,” you replied soothingly, using the sweetest tone you could muster. You opened your saddlebag and produced a bag of gold—ones, ironically, with your face on them to be petty—to hand over to the nun. She looked at you questioningly, the weight heavier than she was used to getting from you or any royal, and squeezed the pouch thoughtfully. “To buy the children new clothes for the upcoming winter—extra for more food, since there are more than before, I hear?”

“Yes, your majesty.” The woman tucked the pouch away into her robes. You made a mental note to tell the local seamstress and hunters to make sure she only bought furs and shoes for the children—you didn’t trust anyone in positions of religious institutions as far as you could throw them. And that wasn’t very far. “Is there anything… else you needed?”

“No. I came to—” Your eyes caught on a woman lingering at the edge of the crowd of children, dressed in rags. She was fairly petite, blonde of hair, and looked completely out of place in Shiratorizawa as a whole, where brown hair and black hair was most common. She stuck out as much as Tendou did with his red hair. “Who is that?”

The nun turned to see who you were looking at. You were surprised to see disgust crawl over her features, more potent than if it had been aimed at you. “Oh, that’s a refugee from Karasuno—the neighboring Empire to Nekoma. She says while the King and his advisor are away, some other kingdom stormed their castle, raided their lands, and now hold their capital ransom until King Sawamura returns.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Wakatoshi’s aides hadn’t notified you of this. And judging by the alarmed looks on Semi and Goshiki’s faces, they hadn’t known either, which meant this was a very recent occupation, or someone had swept under their noses, past their borders, and invaded Karasuno without so much as a warning. And any kingdom who could be that discreet, that sly, was worth keeping a very close eye on.

“I see.” You forced your features to be more sympathetic, bringing your hand up to your cheek in faux thought. You might have even tried to cry if it wouldn’t have seemed so fake. “Well, she can’t just stay at the orphanage—what is her name?”

The nun shrugged, disgruntled, and waved for the woman. “You! Come here.”

The blonde haired woman startled, looking towards them with wide eyes. Her gaze darted between Semi and Goshiki with their armor and then finally settled on you, dressed less than princess-like, and the tiara on your head that you’d thrown on when you found it in your saddlebag before you left. It was, luckily, made with black pearls and onyx, so it fit well with your outfit and didn’t look too out of place.

“Your majesty,” she whispered when she drew near enough. Her feet were calloused from miles of walking, raw from running over craggy peaks and sharp cliff faces that separated Karasuno from Shiratorizawa, a feat in its own right. Blood still seeped from open cracks in her heels and dripped into the sand, turning it a deep red. Though her face was dirty, smeared with dirt and dried mud that hadn’t been cleaned, she was pretty underneath it all—and very clearly of some nobility. Her features were too aristocratic to be anything else, a bastard maybe, but clearly noble. When she curtsied, you noted the practiced ease and near perfect posture even with infected wounds and wounded feet. “I apologize for my appearance—”

“No need.” You held up your hands and reached over to straighten her. Gravel rolled beneath her heels and she shifted, sending a waft of sweat, days old blood, and what you could barely say was stale perfume towards you. You had to blink to keep your eyes from watering at the pungent scent; so as not to humiliate her, you smiled, though you had a hard time blinking the water from your eyes. “You are nobility, yes?”

The nun looked over, alarmed, but the girl was already nodding her head in a reluctant affirmative.

You stepped back and between Semi and Goshiki in thought. Her presence could easily be taken as an offense; she was here without invitation, despite her empire being occupied, and living in squalor at the orphanage, unbecoming of a noble, especially a woman. But she could also be a valuable asset: she was a well of knowledge about Karasuno and the current political situation. If you could wheedle enough information out of her, you would be able to yank Karasuno right out from under the invaders’ noses and instill Shiratorizawa rule, but you knew it wouldn’t be that easy—there was an edge in her gaze that spoke of a cleverness. She wouldn’t release her secrets so easily.

“Well, then.” You scanned her up and down and pursed your lips. “We can’t leave you here, Lady…?”

“Yachi.” She shifted uncomfortably. “Yachi Hitoka.”

“Yachi Hitoka,” you amended, the name foreign on your tongue but vaguely familiar. A family name you had heard before, perhaps in your studies. You would make sure to crack open the records whenever you returned back to the palace. “You can’t stay here. Return with me to the palace and we’ll see to getting you a bath and some food… Unless you would rather stay here?”

“Thank you, your majesty.” Yachi’s voice was quiet, but there was gratitude there—step one complete.

You smiled and turned to your horse. Semi knelt down and allowed you to step into his hands to settle your leg over the saddle, hooking your foot in the stirrup when you were settled. The mare tossed her head with a snort, eager to get going, and you patted her neck gently. You jerked your head towards Goshiki—the one least likely to say something rude about her smell—when you spoke to Yachi again. “You’ll ride with Goshiki. His horse is the gentlest, which will be better on your wounds in the long run. I wouldn’t want you to rip open the ones that have already healed.”

Yachi nodded. “Thank you, your majesty.”

You waited for her to mount with the help of Goshiki, watching as she struggled to support herself on hurt feet. He allowed her to sit in front of him rather than behind, even though, to your amusement, it made his face burn a bright red, so she wouldn’t fall off as easily. Semi snorted beside you at his babbled explanation and Yachi seemed to notice, her face flushing—you wondered if she also had a fever—and dropped her head to avoid your gaze.

You turned your head and nodded to the nun in silent farewell, turning your horse and heading back the way you came. You tried to keep quiet, to not pester her with questions, but your curiosity won out.

“So, Lady Yachi,” you called, looking over at her from your horse,”what banners did these… invaders fly with their troops?”

She looked uncomfortable at the memory, but answered,”None, your majesty. A banner with a black field was all I saw.”

“I see.” That made no sense. Any organized army with enough might to siege an empire could only be another kingdom or empire; none that you knew employed a plain black field upon their banner except for Karasuno and Nekoma themselves, and you knew Nekoma didn’t have the capacity to invade and occupy another empire without aid from another. No, this was something different—a mercenary group, perhaps? But that made no sense, either. “And did anyone else escape as you did?”

“I… I’m not sure, your majesty.” Yachi took on a look of genuine anguish at the thought and you had to pity her just a little. “But if they did, they wouldn’t have risked Shiratorizawa as I did—perhaps Nekoma, or Aoba Johsai.”

Yes, those two were indeed more likely. No one would want to brave the cliffs and hills that made up Shiratorizawa; they were made for eagle shifters and those who knew the terrain well enough not to fall to their deaths. It was dangerous for any other to go through them, which was all the more suspicious now that an army had seemingly snuck through without anyone noticing. You would have to dig deeper into this—and worm your way into Wakatoshi’s advisor’s good graces, too.

“Hmm.” You scratched your chin. “Semi, when we return, assemble a small group of men and head to Nekoma and then Aoba Johsai to search for survivors. Get their stories; I’m concerned about this new militant force, whoever it is. They could target Shiratorizawa next.”

“W-wait!” Yachi made Goshiki shove his horse forward. You raised an eyebrow at her inquisitively. “If you can—can you see if my friends made it out? You can’t miss one of them, he has orange hair, and is short—”

You looked to Semi for confirmation. It was his squadron he would likely be sending out; it was his choice. You had no interest in her friends, even if they were survivors. You just wanted their stories. When he nodded subtly, you inclined your head and looked back to Yachi. “Very well. They will look—but they will not hunt them down. That’s the best I can offer you, Yachi. I apologize.”

“That’s alright.” She smiled, a pathetic, weary thing. “It means a lot to me that you even considered it. I hope they’re okay, wherever they are.”

You couldn’t relate. Your kingdom wasn’t occupied by an unknown enemy force, hopefully it never would be. You could only nod and nudge your horse into a trot, eager to see if you had drove that arrogant little girl playing Queen out of the palace, only to see a procession—a very haphazard, unsteady procession—proceeding towards you faster than you could blink. Among them was an eagle shifter you knew well—Kenjiro Shirabu—and he never used his eagle form unless it was of the utmost importance.

Because he was smaller than the others, you were able to hold out your arm and allow him to land safely, even if he almost knocked you over in the process. His claws dug into your arm and ripped through your sleeve as he tried to steady himself, but he looked so terrified, so scared, even in eagle form, that your concern quickly overpowered your smugness.

“Shirabu?” You reached up and plucked a loose feather from his wing. “What’s wrong?”

“King Wakatoshi’s squadron—what was left of it—returned home moments after you departed.” He was out of breath, taking deep inhales through his beak to catch it, and you watched him with concerned eyes. “I was told to return and inform you.”

But that made no sense—what was left of it?

“What do you mean?” You squinted at him, understanding settling in your gut even though you denied it. “Shirabu?”

He avoided your gaze. “They were attacked. King Wakatoshi… King Wakatoshi did not return with them. Nor did Tendou.”

It was like someone had dropped a cold stone in your belly. “What?”

“Please hurry to the palace.” He was already rising, flapping his wings to gain altitude. You reached up to snatch him back down, but he evaded your grasp and hovered just above your reach. “The advisors are in a panic. They don’t know what to do—you’re the only one who can take charge now, Princess [Name].”

He was gone before you could stop him. You watched him fly away, in a daze, eyes fixed on his steadily shrinking form, much like when you had watched Wakatoshi leave that day. He had promised to bring you back honey from the forest.

“Let’s go.” You spurred your horse into a run, Goshiki and Semi following right behind you. You had to know if it was true. And if it was… If it was? “We… We need to do damage control.”

“I believe the damage is already done, your majesty!” Semi shouted over the roaring wind in his ears. He gestured to the outside of the palace, already in sight from the breakneck pace, as you merged with the retinue that had come with Shirabu. People rallied around the gate, rioting, demanding to know what was going on. Tomatoes and sour fruit flew and hit the men standing guard at their post. “We’ll go through the back way!”

You allowed Semi to take charge, moving his horse to the head of your group because, for once, you could make no decisions. Your thoughts revolved around your brother—undefeated, unconquerable Wakatoshi, so confident in his decisions and quiet and kind. Now he was gone, dead or missing, and you had no idea who had done it.

But when you found them, whoever had taken your brother from you and kept him from returning home, you would skin them and place their heads on a pike.

And you would start with Akira Saito.

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taglist (open): i don't think i got any requests for this taglist (if i did i forgot) so feel free to ask me again to add you if i did. <3

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu x reader

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