#this is pure self-indulgent sappiness sorry not sorry
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shares-a-vest · 2 years ago
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@steddie-week Day Six: True
Call him a snap. A lovesick loser. A nerd. A guy who likes fantasy stories and make-believe a little too much. An idiot who is setting himself up for disappointment and heartbreak.
But Eddie Munson believes in True Love.
He has read the stories and been swept up in the romantic plotlines of his favourites. He creates NPCs for his campaigns with unnecessarily detailed backstories with whole lives set out for them. Then he uses them to write poems and short stories he keeps safe in his notebooks for no one to see, where everyone gets a sweeping grand love story and a 'happily ever after' waiting for them by the end.
He's well aware others catch on, especially after he starts dating Steve. Yeah, an actual real-life love story sweeps him off his feet and he lets his guard down. Dustin and Lucas call him, "a pathetic lameoid". Mike and Will descend into a chorus of gagging noises. Even the guys tease him for writing song lyrics featuring admittedly, very obvious saccharine declarations. George will give a "Yuck", Gareth practically sings out his disgusted "Ew" and Jeff gives perhaps the worst reaction of all...
"Eddie... just. No."
Steve might as well be a Prince. Or a Knight in shining armour. A combination of both, maybe? Mixed in with the weapons and demon-slaying expertise of a high-stats Barbarian who runs around shirtless.
When Steve visited him in the hospital, drugged-up delirium had Eddie's mind drifting to fairytales where he lay in a nightmare-riddled slumber as a blood-stained and beat-up version of Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. Just laying in wait to be fixed by true love's kiss.
Steve calls Eddie his Prince sometimes when he's being all sappy and cute. It makes them both blush and giggle because, while it's romantic, it is also Steve trying desperately to sound impressive.
But Steve really is the Prince. Eddie insists on the matter. Even when he arrives at the trailer from a closing shift at Family Video, visibly tired with dark eyes, hair now flat and unstyled with a pained expression on his face as he blinks at a snail's pace.
"Thank god, I'm home" he sighs, voice cracking a little as he sets his keys down on the shelf near the front light switch.
Eddie snaps his book shut (A collection of Grimm Fairytales, no less), feeling all giddy at the thought Steve considers the place 'home'. But his glee doesn't last long as his homebound Prince barely toes off one of his sneakers before he clambers forward, arms unstretched in the direction of the couch.
Eddie catches him - or more, Steve collapses onto the couch and rolls into him.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he panics, brushing back the mop of hair that has flopped in his face.
"I have a headache," Steve groans, talking into his makeshift pyjama top - an old Hawkins Tigers t-shirt, "Started as I was closing up."
Steve heaves his body against the couch, resting his head on the cushion back and screws his eyes shut. He fumbles with the buttons on his polo, failing to get anywhere near unbuttoning them. So, Eddie does it for him, barely finishing on the last one before Steve pops his shirt off and flings it halfway across the room.
Then Steve starts doing the same with his belt and fly as a wash of sickly paleness drains down his pretty face.
"I'll do it," he grumbles, pushing Steve's mighty paws away.
He helps there too, willing away a blush and a dirty joke as he loosens Steve's obscenely tight jeans. He isn't exactly sure how it works anatomically, but he is growing more certain with every headache that these damn jeans aren't doing him any favours (other than giving him a tight little, very squeezable, butt).
Steve puffs out what is vaguely a laugh before he slurs, "Think this is as far as you gonna get tonight, Eds."
He gestures at his underwear peaking out from his undone jeans.
"You want me to run you a bath? Squish you into the teeny-tiny combo?"
Steve sniffs under his arm and grimaces at himself.
"'Kay," he lolls his head back on the couch.
"Anything else?"
"Can you make me some tea?"
"Tea?" he questions.
He can't help it. Usually, he keeps his queries to a minimum when Steve is like this (which has been all too frequent lately) but this is a new request.
"Wayne made me some last week when I had a migraine."
"This is the first I'm hearing of it," he says, and in lieu of a physical presence, he glares at his uncle's recliner chair.
Steve smiles at the ceiling, his eyelids softening with a light flutter as he hums, presumably thinking about this magic tea Wayne is most definitely being interrogated about first thing in the morning.
"'S'nice," Steve shrugs.
"That old man with his tea collection like he's some old English Granny."
"Stops me from feeling sick."
Eddie leans over and pecks his deceptively-hot cheek. Stinky and on the precipice of a migraine or not, Steve is still his Prince Charming. He pauses there. Steve must feel his breath lingering because his lip quirks, threatening a smile and he opens his eyes.
"What?" he asks, a teasing tone dancing in there somewhere as he blinks slowly.
Eddie takes his hand and squeezes it.
"Let me kiss you."
"Okay," Steve replies and puckers his lips without moving an inch.
"True love's kiss will make you feel better, promise," he whispers as he closes the distance between them and presses a soft kiss to Steve's lips.
Steve squeaks out a noise and Eddie can feel his frown as he murmurs, "You're so silly."
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teardrop-scales · 8 months ago
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For once a number one
(Adam x female!reader)
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A.N: this is purely self indulgent, but I decided to publish this anyway. Hurt-comfort I guess and general fluff, although this is Adam we're talking about, so of course there are swear words and some suggestive stuff.
Please note that english is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Also, my Adam is probably ooc.
(Also I suck at beginnings, endings and titles, sorry ><)
You don't even hear him come in.
No wonder, since you are currently blasting his band's music on full volume. Mostly 'Stick it to the man' to be honest; until now it always helped you cheer up and relax a little if you were angry at something or someone. But this time even this wasn't helping. Still you refuse to turn it off because you love your boyfriend's voice and his music (even though you won't ever tell him that, his ego is big enough as it is).
So here you are, laying on the couch with 'Stick it to the Man' blasting in the background, still in your more formal and nicer clothes, not even having the strength to change into more comfy ones, only forcing yourself to take off your boots once you got inside.
Pathetic much.
And so, that's why you almost have a heart attack when the loud music suddenly stops and you hear the voice of your boyfriend, this time talking and standing a few meters away from the couch.
"Heyyy, I see your music taste is still intact, babes! Though if you wanted to hear my singing, you could've just asked me for a private concert. For a price, 'course~."
You don't bother to look up at him, but you can imagine the smug grin on his face and the wiggling of his eyebrows.
To be honest, you thought you had more time until Adam comes home. You didn't want him to see you like this. He never was very good at this 'mushy, sappy emotional shit' (his words). And you really don't have the strength now to deal with his mocking and teasing.
So you just groan in response.
Even though Adam isn't usually really good at reading people and their emotions, your state makes it clear even for him that something is wrong.
"Geez, the fuck is up your ass?" He hisses, walking towards the couch and putting a cold palm on your forehead to check for fever. "You sick or somethin'?"
You, albeit a bit reluctantly, swat his hand away.
"I'm not sick. I have some other problems, you wouldn't understand." You respond, still laying on the couch, pathways made from tears still visible and fresh on your cheeks.
Adam scoffs and puts his hands on his hips.
"Try me, bitch."
You finally look him in the eyes, skeptically.
"Are you really gonna listen to me yap about this? Without cutting me off and mocking me?" Somehow you want him to both go away and stay right beside you.
"You always listen to me when I'm fucking mad at something and need to talk it out." He shrugs. "The least I can do is return the favor for once, since I'm so generous and in a good mood today. Now move your ass."
Adam makes the 'shoo' gesture with his hand, and you move a bit to the side on the couch, making space for him to sit down. Once he plops down on the couch, you put your head in his lap.
"Where to even start." You say in a bit of a sarcastic manner, your voice breaking just a bit once again.
You tell him everything, somehow managing to not break down again during the tale. You tell him how your friend got bored of you when another, seemingly more interesting and fun person than you appeared. How when the tree of you hang out, they paid more attention to the new person, only rarely talking to you and when they did, they were a lot colder towards you. It wasn't fucking fair. You were there longer and you always tried your best to be a good friend, the best you could be. And it still wasn't enough.
Surprisingly, Adam kept his promise and didn't cut you off even once. Instead, he was on his phone the whole time, but with his other hand he played with your hair. He only let out some hums of acknowledgement every now and then, not looking at you at all. It may have seemed like he was disinterested in your problem, but the way his fist clenched around the strands of your hair during certain parts of your story suggested otherwise.
"...and that's the situation." You sigh heavily finishing your rant after a while.
Adam scoffs and puts his phone down.
"Well, what do you want me to say, bitch?" He shrugs. "I mean, yeah, sure sucks to be you I guess, but why the fuck are ya getting so worked up over this?"
"Well, that's because--"
"Honestly, thought you were tougher than that. Thought you were a badass, not a pathetic little cunt--"
"Adam, you promised you wouldn't cut me off." You remind him coldly, lifting your head from his lap and glaring at him.
Adam rolls his eyes.
"Fine, fine, jeez." He tsks. "Sorry, babe."
You stay quiet for a few seconds, searching for the right words. This is tricky, your boyfriend is not the best at dealing with emotions like this. He can't relate because he has a totally different strategy when someone doesn't like him. Heck, most of Heaven doesn't like him, he just doesn't seem to care. He always makes it seem so easy. You envy him in that aspect, you envy his ability to not give a fuck.
"You know what?" You finally say, causing him to raise an eyebrow. "I wouldn't care if this was a first situation like this. I wouldn't give a damn. But the truth is, this happens to me every single motherfucking time I manage to form a meaningful relationship with someone." Despite your best efforts, frustration tears appear in your eyes. "I'm tired of this. Tired of being thrown aside once everyone gets bored of me, tired of always being second-best, of being the spare friend and 'number two'. "
You shake your head and then say quietly:
"I bet sooner or later you're gonna get bored of me and leave too."
Silence falls. You don't dare to look Adam in the eyes as you sit beside him on the couch, but at a slight distance.
You're not looking at him, so you fail to notice the flabbergasted and almost offended look on his face.
"The FUCK!?" Adam suddenly breaks the silence with his angry shout as you look at him confused. "I'm not fucking going anywhere! You're stuck with me babes, whether you like it or not. Also, geez, I know I'm a major jerk but I'm not like those trash you call friends!"
You finally dare to look at him, amazed. He really seems put off by your suggestion. You feel your heart flutter at his words and his statement that he isn't gonna leave no matter what. Despite his many flaws, Adam always has been very loyal and dedicated to you. You feel ashamed that you doubted him. Before you can apologize however, he continues his rant:
"And anyway, fuck them--"
You raise an eyebrow in amusement at his wording. Adam sees your expression and scowls before smirking.
"Look who's dirty minded now, bitch~" He teases you, earning a light slap on the shoulder.
Adam chuckles and you roll your eyes, but with a small smile dancing on your lips.
"Whatever." You say, wanting him to continue.
"I meant like, stop giving a fuck about those fake-ass people, y'know! You fucking rock babe, and if they can't see that, it's their loss. Don't waste your precious time on those who don't deserve it."
Your smile kept growing the longer he kept talking. Of course, his rant didn't magically solve your problem, you were still mad and sad, but less now. Because now you are sure that Adam will always be on your side.
"...you should focus on people who really deserve your time. Like me." Adam finishes with a smug grin as you slap his arm lightly, both of you chuckling.
Then you climb in his lap and hug him by the neck, minding the spikes on his collar, but still pressing your face in the crook between his neck and shoulder. Adam smells of his usual cologne and you can sense a faint scent of ribs, which he must've had for lunch.
"Thank you, honey." You say softly. "I think I needed to hear that."
You can feel the First Man shiver slightly at the sweet nickname. You know that that's his weakness, even though he always tries to act like he doesn't like it.
You wait for him to tease you or try to make this moment sexual like he usually does. You expect Adam to go back to his usual annoying self. But instead, he sighs through his nose and slowly wraps his arms around your back and waist, hugging you tightly and pressing you even more into his soft chest and stomach. He even wraps his beautiful golden wings around you for extra comfort.
"Anytime, sweetie." Adam says softly while caressing your back gently.
Something swells in your chest at the nickname he almost never uses. The only times Adam uses this particular one is when he's mocking you or someone or when he's feeling especially soft and at ease. Even though you two have been dating for quite some time now, you only recall one or two instances of him using "sweetie" as a nickname for you in a soft manner, not counting now of course.
You smile into his neck and raise your head slightly to press a kiss to his cheek.
You both stay silent for a while, just enjoying each other's presence and touch.
"You know" Adam says suddenly, still embracing you. "If you need friends or some shit, I can set up a meeting for you with my girls and Lute. They've been up my ass recently about wanting to 'get to know you' ".
"That's actually not a bad idea." You reply, pressing your cheek against his.
"Yeah, it's a win-win situation, babe." Adam muses, squeezing you momentarily. "You get new friends, and I get some fucking peace from their pestering."
You giggle.
You were scared to talk to him about your problems, knowing how he is. But now you realize that was stupid. Adam is a jerk to everyone but you. He's always been more patient, gentle and soft with you than with anyone else. You feel really ashamed for thinking he wouldn't listen to you and support you in your problems, even if they are trivial to him.
"I'm sorry for not believing that you'd listen to me and my problems." You sigh. "And I'm sorry for saying that you'd leave me and comparing you to my ex-friends."
"Yeah, you should be fucking sorry." Adam grumbles, grabbing you to lean you away from him a bit and then embracing your face with his palms. "You're one of the best things to ever happen to me, truly babe. I love you, you're my bitch and I wouldn't trade you for anyone."
You smile brightly, placing your smaller hands on his bigger ones on your cheeks. Then Adam continues before you can say anything, like he usually does.
"And if I ever hear you doubting yourself like that again, I'll literally fuck these thoughts out of you. I'll fuck you until you start to see yourself as a motherfucking goddess." He threatens with a grin.
You laugh. This time not a giggle or chuckle, but a big, bubbly laugh. You don't fail to notice the soft, fleeting smile which appears on your boyfriend's face at the sound of you laughing, but don't comment on it.
"Don't threaten me with a good time, darling." You tease after you calm down, putting your hands on his cheeks and squeezing them a bit. "I love you too."
Then you lean towards him and carefully place your lips on his in a gentle kiss. And for once, Adam doesn't make the kiss more heated, instead kissing you back just as softly.
For once, you feel completely and utterly loved and appreciated. For once you're someone's number one.
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nametakensff · 6 months ago
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Relinquish Control (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)
Sooo I wrote 5.8k of sickly sweet K/im x H/arry whump following on from this fic (though you don't need to read it)
K/im inevitably catches J/ean's cold from H/arry, but ends up feeling a lot worse than anyone had bargained for. Caretaking ensues 💕
~~~~~
Content:
M/M, ongoing bg M/M/M, H/arry has a sneezing fetish, cold sneezes, spray, handkerchiefs, sneezing on someone's face, nose blows, mentions of mess (nothing graphic), contagion, fever, coughing, v whump heavy fic, lots of sappy feelings and caretaking, mentions of sex, mentions of erections because H/arry is insatiable
CW: Unintentional contagion with unintentional complications, K/im develops a chest infection, H/arry has a lot of self hatred, K/im has control issues, language mentioning animal death because J/ean is hyperbolic as fuck, all these men are emotionally damaged and immature in their own ways but trying their best anyway
NSFW - Minors DNI!
“I’m so, so sorry I got you sick.”
Harry gently pushed Kim’s sweaty hair back from his forehead, biting his lip in concern as the Lieutenant shivered at the contact. The fever had left his skin overly sensitised – even the slightest touch seemed to cause him discomfort.
“Harry, it’s okay. Honestly.”
Kim peered up at him, bleary eyes seeming especially bloodshot and vulnerable without the regular framing of his thick spectacles, mustering up a tiny smile that made Harry’s heart ache. This was all his fault. He’d fucked around with Jean when he was sick, he’d gotten himself sick, and then he’d gotten Kim sick. It had been as stupid as it had been wonderful, for the first couple of days. He’d taken a sick day and Kim had done the same, even though neither of them really needed it – they’d fucked within an inch of their lives and cuddled up with tea and tissues afterwards.
Of course getting the opportunity to indulge in such kinky, nasty, fantasy tier sex had been too good to be true. Harry was already on the mend, and Jean was almost entirely healthy – but Kim was another story altogether. Whether it was the recent stress of his transfer, the lingering physical and mental impact of the case in Martinaise, or plain old bad luck - what had been a simple, albeit nasty head cold for Jean and Harry was now shaping up to be a miserable chest infection for him.
Harry could feel his expression shifting into a countenance so pained he was grateful Kim’s eyesight was bad. He didn’t want to cry, but he felt so guilty and so useless in the moment it was feeling like an inevitability.
Apparently Kim’s eyesight wasn’t poor enough to misconstrue the pure misery etched onto Harry’s face – or he was already an expert at reading his supreme moodiness, like he had a built in barometer specifically attuned to Harry’s idiosyncrasies. He reached a weak hand out from under the veritable cocoon of bed sheets and squeezed his wrist.
“Harry. Really. It’s not your fault. I’ve been overdue something like this.”
His hand dropped limply back onto the bed. It was horrible, seeing Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi in such a state. To Harry, he was a knight in shining armour. He had seemed indestructible. He was beginning to see what Kim had meant about his putting people on pedestals, but all the same - Kim was strong, organised and composed. Harry just hadn’t been able to mentally picture him ever looking quite so unwell. ‘Weak’ and ‘Kim’ felt like antonyms.
Even if technically, yes, it wasn’t his fault Kim’s cold had worsened so dramatically, he’d still given it to him. He’d still reaped the benefits of all the sneezing, all the ground-shaking fetish sex Kim had indulged him in. He was itching to pour his heart out and lament about how truly awful he was, how irresponsible and insatiable he had been, but there was something else he was begrudgingly learning. People do not like to listen to overly self-indulgent, narcissistic proclamations of self-depreciation. Even for the ever-patient Kim, there were limits. He would not make this about him. He was trying to change.
And so, Harry merely swallowed back the guilt and the tears against the lump in his throat. He cupped Kim’s cheek in his palm, chest blossoming with warmth as Kim sighed and let his head loll sideways and into the contact.
“Do you need anything else? Seriously, is there anything more I can do for you? Just say the word and I’m on it.”
Kim was still burning hot to the touch, even after the assistance of a cool compress. It occurred to Harry that he was now seeking the relative coolness of his palm – which was worrying, considering Harry ran hot on a normal day, and his temperature was still a little elevated from his own lingering cold. At least his sneezing had stopped – he didn’t want to trigger Kim into more sneezes of his own, not with his throat as swollen and sore as it was. He never thought he wouldn’t want Kim to sneeze – at least not this early into their fumbling speed-run of a relationship. He wasn’t so delusional as to deny they didn’t still thrill him – he was a greedy, selfish man – but he could wait.
“Mm. No. I’m…fine.”
He wasn’t. They both knew he wasn’t, but Harry thought perhaps it occurred to Kim that admitting how poorly he actually was would be the final straw, the tipping point into relinquishing all control. And what could be more terrifying than that?
~~~~~
In the early stages of his cold, Lieutenant Kitsuragi had been sneezing and marginally lethargic – but, for all intents and purposes, not all that different from his regular self. When he’d started to feel worse - genuinely unwell - he had withdrawn. He’d been short with Harry in the office – he’d been short with everyone, his normal taciturn composure beginning to crack, and with it, his professionalism. Everyone had quickly given him a wide berth, which Harry could see he hated despite practically manufacturing the situation for himself in the first place. He’d called out sick on Friday, ignored Harry’s calls all weekend, and when Jean confirmed he’d called in sick a second time on Monday, Harry had been practically climbing the walls with anxiety.
Kim wasn’t answering his latest calls, every nervous one of them made hourly from his desk. The palpability of his anxiousness was concerning to both himself and everyone around him - he looked pathetic and desperate. He was pathetic and desperate. Jean kept casting him contemplative glances all morning before he eventually took pity on him.
“Go see if he’s okay. I’ll cover for you this afternoon.” He’d offered as he and Harry sat eating lunch in the communal kitchen.
Harry had looked up from where he’d been picking dejectedly at his sandwich, eyes round and glossy enough to put to shame any orphaned puppy.
“Really? Is that okay?”
“Listen, Shitkid. Life is a joke and as such, you're my superior officer. You don’t need my permission to check in on your boyfriend – a valuable member of our unit, in case you’ve forgotten.”
Harry smiled at him, delighting in the sheepish way Jean couldn’t quite maintain eye contact with him. He deduced that Jean was also feeling somewhat responsible for Kim’s misery - being patient zero, as it were.
“You’ll be alright? I’ll come back as fast as I can.”
“Yeah yeah, don’t bother. Just go.” Jean nodded. “I can’t watch you play with your food like that any longer. You look like a fucking box of kittens just got set on fire right in front of you.”
Harry jumped to his feet in an instant.
“You’re the fucking best, Vic.”
Jean halted him with a strong arm around his middle before he shot out of the room, forcing a soft ‘oof’ out of him.
“Take your sandwich with you. People who don’t obtain most of their calories from booze actually eat food instead.”
Harry raised an eyebrow at him.
“Rich coming from the depressed masochist subsisting off of coffee, cigarettes and the occasional chicken breast, but okay.”
Jean scoffed and rolled his eyes but otherwise didn't take the bait. Harry snatched his sandwich up from the table, feeling warm and grateful. His partner’s words were biting, but his concern for his well-being and the obvious pleasure he had in knowing that Harry was maintaining his sobriety were loud and clear - if you knew how to look past the guarded, gruff exterior. He waved at Jean as he hightailed it out of the joint, practically running the rest of the way to Kim’s apartment block.
Winded by his frantic ascension of the building’s winding staircase, he probably overdid it with the pounding on Kim’s door – no, he definitely did, on reflection. It was just that with the lack of immediate response following all those missed phone calls, his mind was conjuring up every worst-case scenario in the book. To say he was overwhelmed with relief when Kim finally started to open the door was an understatement.
He’d been grinning in gleeful anticipation at finally coming face to face with the Lieutenant, but his expression promptly fell as he took in the sight of Kim - shaking, sweating, miserably unwell. He looked as though he barely had the strength to stay upright, let alone pull open the door.
“Harry, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”
If Kim looked bad, he sounded even worse. In fact, he sounded as though he’d been gargling with razor blades. Harry winced.
“Oh my god, Kim…”
Kim huffed out a little laugh, both amused and insulted by the naked dismay directed at his person. He opened his mouth to speak but was promptly overtaken by an intensely violent and hacking coughing fit, gripping the door frame like a lifeline as he angled his face away from Harry with a fist pressed up to his mouth. It was a horrible cough, chesty and audibly painful. Within seconds, Harry was manoeuvring the door shut behind them as he stepped into Kim’s apartment and ushered him, still coughing violently, back into his bedroom.
The room stank of illness – that distinct, cloying scent of unhealthy sweat and misery. Kim was still going, gasping for breath with desperate little snatches of air between the coughs that racked his slender frame. Harry sat down on the bed beside him, stroking his back and biting his bottom lip so hard it almost bled.
Finally, some agonising moments later, Kim managed to stop. He sat there, slumped forward and breathing in a careful, measured fashion. Harry reached for the half empty glass of water on Kim’s bedside table and handed it to him wordlessly, cringing as Kim choked a couple of times at the sensation of the liquid trickling down his raw throat. When he managed to avoid triggering another attack, both men practically deflated with relief.
“Thank you – sorry.” Kim delicately wiped his lips with the back of his hand, letting Harry take the glass back off him.
“Kim…how long have you been feeling this bad?”
Kim looked at him, and Harry realised that he was sans glasses. His hair, normally slicked back, hung loose in a messy shock over his forehead, and his face was unshaven, several days of stubble growing in alongside his standard pencil moustache. His nostrils were chapped, pink and raw. Harry would have found his dishevelled appearance painfully attractive were it not for the overwhelming concern that was currently squeezing his heart in a vice-like grip. Kim sighed.
“Since Saturday evening. I was hoping it would go away on its own, but-!”
Harry swore and reached out to support him as Kim was cut off by another round of coughing, mercifully shorter than the previous attack but still leaving him shaking against the larger man when it finally released him.
“Fuck…” Kim muttered. He burned under Harry’s touch.
“Shhh – I’m gonna get you some water, and some tea, okay?”
“Harry – you don’t need to, I can- “
“Kim.”
Harry almost shocked himself with the authoritative tone with which he silenced the Lieutenant. Thank God for the gift of his irrepressible (and irresistible) masculinity - it ever so occasionally came in clutch for him. Kim shut his mouth and didn’t seem pissed off in the slightest that Harry had cut him off. He looked at him expectantly, like a dog awaiting a command. That alone was as clear an admission of illness as any to Harry.
“I know I don’t need to do anything.” Harry started. “But I want to. You could have called me. I was calling you. You’re – you’re really sick right now.”
Kim huffed.
“I’m not that sick.”
“Sure, and I’m Dolores Dei herself.”
“Hm.”
If Kim had been even the tiniest bit more prone to immaturity, Harry was sure he would have rolled his eyes at him.
“Will you please get back into bed and let me help you?” He patted the bed behind them, inviting Kim to crawl back into it. “You help me all the time.”
“I’ll let you help me when I actually need help.” Kim rasped, but dragged himself back under his duvet all the same. Harry watched him, the undignified crawl of defeat paired with the stubborn backchat causing him to reassess his recent impression of Kim as an obedient dog. No, he was instead a recalcitrant cat – if he’d had a tail, it would have flicked back and forth with displeasure as he nestled into the sheets. The thought was endearing, and almost comical enough to make him laugh.
Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi was, in fact, a huge, stubborn baby when sick. This was a delightful new discovery which made Harry both despair and rejoice in equal measures. He’d had years of experience (only some of which he could actively recall) of Jean vehemently denying affection and assistance when he needed it the most. Hell, he himself was an expert in pushing people away whilst simultaneously (and paradoxically) demanding their perpetual assistance. Kim, it turned out, was only marginally less emotionally constipated than either of them. The only thing for it was to match that stubbornness head on.
“There.” Harry crooned as he tenderly organised Kim’s duvet around him. “Doesn’t it feel nice being tucked in?”
Kim looked up at him with tired eyes. Harry could see that he was a conflicted mix of embarrassed and grateful. Good. This would be easier than anticipated. Unable to help himself, he leaned forward and peppered Kim’s warm face with tiny kisses. He nearly died when the tickle of his unruly facial hair made Kim actually fucking giggle in response.
“You’re adorable.” He murmured against Kim’s mouth, stroking his cheek.
“Detective, I’m a 43-year-old police officer.”
“An adorable 43-year-old police officer.” Harry corrected, pressing a quick kiss to Kim’s chapped lips. His voice was nasal, nose miserably clogged – Harry didn’t want to deny him oxygen any longer than need be.
“You shouldn’t be kissing me.”
“Why the hell not?” Harry kissed him on the tip of his poor, red nose, melting as he watched it wrinkle and squirm in response. “I gave you this cold in the first place.”
Kim sighed. Harry did not like the way his chest seemed to wheeze.
“I fear it’s become something worse, at this point.”
“Yeah.” Harry frowned at him, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on Kim’s cheekbone.
Abruptly, he stood up, tossing his blazer into the corner of Kim’s room and rolling up his shirt sleeves.
“I’ll be back in a minute. You just rest, okay?”
“Okay.”
~~~~~
Harry fumbled about in Kim’s kitchen, trying not to make a racket as he hastily put together a cup of tea. He also filled a pint glass with water, cursing under his breath as Kim began to cough from the other room - a nasty, punishing sound that seemed to go on and on. He needed to see a doctor, Harry thought. He’d breach the topic with Kim in a bit.
He'd helped him sit up in bed, first to drink some water, which Kim sipped gingerly. Harry could tell he was dreading every cough that threatened to burst out of him. He’d taken the glass from Kim and exchanged it with the tea, asking him to drink as much as he was able.
“Have you taken anything for this?” He asked, watching Kim with a worried frown.
“…Not since Saturday. I didn’t have a lot of medicine on me.”
‘I rarely need it’ went unsaid, but Harry heard it all the same.
“When did you last eat?”
“…Yesterday. I’ve been meaning to go grocery shopping, but…” Kim sighed, wincing as the tea rolled down his throat.
“Well, shit. I’m running out to get you meds and soup as soon as you finish your tea, okay?”
“Detective, you have a job.”
“Jean-Jean gave me explicit permission to come and check up on you. He told me not to bother going back today.” Harry grinned at him, pleased both by Jean’s leniency and the way Kim could no longer leverage work to get him to leave. Kim sighed.
“Honestly, you’re acting like I’m terminally unwell. I’ll b-be…I’ll be f’fi-hh!”
Harry’s eyes zoned in on Kim’s flaring nostrils in an instant. Despite it all, despite the concern, he couldn’t help the way that ominous catch of breath went straight to his cock, twitching briefly in his trousers in anticipation. Kim was unmistakably going to sneeze.
“Ohh, can you - !”
Harry took the mug of tea from Kim and placed it safely back on the bedside table. He watched through unblinking eyes as Kim’s eyebrows rose, mouth dropping open and revealing his pink tongue as it cupped itself in ticklish preparation of the sneeze to come. It really didn’t get old, watching Kim like this. His poor, reddened nostrils twitched devilishly against the cold-induced tickle, urged along by the warm vapours of steam.
He took in one final, sharp little gasp, briefly waving his right hand in front of his face before pitching to the side, away from Harry and into the protective cradle of that same hand. Harry reached out to place a strong arm around his trembling shoulders, half in support and half out of the raging desire to be touching him every time he sneezed.
“HgGK’TSSChh!! Hpt’TSCHGHHh!! Hagk’TSCHOOouuu!!”
They shuddered through him, the vibrations running through Harry in turn and leaving him to break out in an excited rush of goosebumps from head to toe. Kim was miserably congested, and the sneezes were much thicker, much more nasal than usual. The definitive sneeze of that violent little triple was deliciously desperate and vocally rich. Harry was almost entirely hard when Kim snuggled into him, snuffling into his hand and trembling against the crook of Harry's neck.
“Ough. Désolé.” He muttered, sounding entirely wiped out.
“Bless you, honey.”
The pet name rolled out of him so naturally that it took Harry a whole few seconds to realise that he had even used it at all. He tensed in sudden anxiety, kicking himself for the slip-up. Were they ready for ‘honey’ yet??
 When Kim didn’t pull away and instead snuggled even closer, he let himself relax, circling both arms around Kim and holding him for several moments. It was only when Kim sniffled again, keeping his hand securely over his nose and mouth, that Harry realised he’d probably made a spectacular mess of himself.
He pulled back, rubbing Kim’s back and looking around the room. It didn’t take him long to locate a handkerchief, half buried in the bed sheets, which he held out to Kim. The Lieutenant reached for it gingerly, uttering a small “merci” before skilfully obscuring his face from Harry and indulging in a quick nose blow. It was crackling and thick, but judging by the sound of it, not awfully productive following the initial few seconds. He sighed, swiping at his twitching nostrils for a couple of seconds longer before folding the handkerchief shut and snuggling back into the crook of Harry’s neck.
They sat together for a few moments before Harry cleared his throat.
“Ready for more tea?”
“Yes. God…I’m so tired.”
“Yeah, I bet.” Harry cooed, reaching out for the mug, helping Kim into position and nobly ignoring his throbbing erection.
~~~~~
After he’d finished his tea, Kim had been exhausted enough to fall asleep within minutes. Harry stood over his bed and watched him sleep for a while, feeling a little like an invasive creep but also finding no fucks left to give. Now that Kim was unconscious again, the all-consuming panic was returning.
He hurried through the store in a daze, buying an assortment of different foods and canned soup for Kim. He bought cough medicine, decongestants and tissues before saying ‘fuck it’ and buying a huge carton of orange juice for good measure.
Kim was still sleeping when he got back. As he set about making him soup he listened to him snore, the sound so congested even through the wood of his bedroom door that it made his chest ache.
Harry left the pot to simmer for a while, collapsing onto Kim’s sofa with a heavy sigh and dragging the palm of his hand up and down his face a couple of times in exhausted resignation. He wouldn’t let himself lie there for long, knowing any more than five minutes in a supine position was a dangerous game to be playing if he didn’t want to fall asleep for hours on end. The soup would be done soon enough, but the waiting was agony. He was happy that Kim was able to sleep but he just wanted him awake; he wanted Kim to reassure him that everything was okay. Stupid. Childish. He needed to snap out of it. He slapped his own face in reprimand and immediately regretted the power in his swing, cursing the sheer size of his palms.
His body jerked violently, suddenly, a terrible falling sensation. The shock of it had him scrambling to his feet. He’d been dozing off, exactly what he’d been hoping to avoid. He glanced frantically at the clock on the wall and was relieved to see that at most he’d been borderline moribund for no longer than 10 minutes – just enough time for the soup to be done.
He ladled a decent portion into one of Kim’s pristine bowls and helped himself to a spoonful. Not bad, he decided; the flavour could be a little stronger but Kim likely couldn’t taste much anyway. He placed it on a small tray with a clean spoon and another glass of water.
The domesticity of it all made him nervous as he carried the tray out of the kitchen; it was like he was a little boy again, nursing his first serious infatuation. He must have done things like this for Dora – unavoidable, in a relationship that long, and yet. Thoughts of her still ached. He pushed the blurry, blonde image away, replacing the vague outlines of her with a clearer impression of thick glasses and slick black hair. He would overwrite her, record over their memories together the same way he would have eventually recorded over their wedding tape – had he been good enough for her to marry in the first place.
Kim was still asleep when Harry entered the room and placed the tray gently on the bedside table, careful to avoid disturbing the Lieutenant’s glasses. He was facing Harry, but only partially visible, tangled up in the cocoon of his blankets. It was fucking adorable. He looked like the world’s weariest caterpillar. His mouth hung slightly open to accommodate his poor stuffy nose, painfully pink and nuzzling into the fabric of his bedding. Harry buried the devious thought of waking Kim up by teasing his sensitive nostrils into a sneeze, instead reaching out and gently shaking his shoulder.
The Lieutenant was an incredibly light sleeper normally, so when he hadn’t woken upon Harry’s entrance and only cracked open one bleary eye after twenty seconds or so of increasingly vigorous jiggling, it was another nail in the coffin of Harry’s soaring anxiety.
“Heyyy, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?” He smiled as encouragingly as he could muster at his sick boyfriend, who groaned and promptly launched into a lengthy coughing fit. Harry swore, helping Kim to sit up and stroking his back.
“Here, Kim, fucking hell…” He handed him the glass of water and the Lieutenant gulped it down greedily, panting when he was done. He was struggling valiantly to maintain an even breathing pattern between the warring hindrances of his blocked sinuses and tickly throat.
“Better?” He asked when he’d helped Kim relax back into the pillows he arranged between his back and the headboard.
“A little. Thank you, Harry.” Kim smiled at him. “I’m okay.”
That meek little smile was clearly manufactured for Harry’s benefit, and that only made it feel worse, somehow. Kim yawned into his duvet, one hand clutching the fabric to his face.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“About an hour and a half.” Harry answered, turning to retrieve the soup. “I made you something to eat – wanna give it a go?”
He proffered the tray towards Kim, taking in his surprised expression with pleasure.
“Did you cook this?”
“Well, it’s canned soup, technically, but I tossed in a couple of things to spice it up.”
“You didn’t have to, you know. I could have done this much.”
Harry sighed, waiting for Kim to take the tray.
“A simple ‘thank you’ would have sufficed, you stubborn ass.”
Kim flashed him an apologetic smile and took the tray.
“Sorry, sorry. And thank you. I really do appreciate it.”
“That’s better.” Harry huffed, adopting the authoritative tone he used to whip out whenever his high school students were testing him. “Now eat your damn soup.”
Kim grinned.
“Yes, sir.”
It took Kim an exceedingly long time to get through even half of the soup – he kept needing to cough, and Harry decided to permanently hold the tray in place for him whilst he ate. It was much easier than repeatedly leaning forwards and backwards in anticipation.
It was as he held the tray in place, angled over Kim’s lap and several inches away from his face, that Kim’s breath started to hitch. Harry barely had a second of recognition before Kim was swallowing frantically, dropping his spoon onto the tray a moment too late to be able to catch the desperate sneeze in the palm of his hand.
“Hah’AEGK’TSChhuu!!”
Harry shivered, eyes closing reflexively against the delicate smack of spray that misted his face. On the technicality that he was needed to hold the tray in place and prevent Kim from spilling the soup, he didn’t bother moving.  The second sneeze baptised him in much the same manner, barrelling out of Kim almost immediately after the first.
“hAGK’TISHHH’Uuu!!”
The brief hesitation as Kim sucked in air to fuel a definitive third sneeze allowed Harry to open his eyes, taking in the Lieutenant’s tortured expression, his damp, flaring nostrils stretching to their limits. Instinctively, he leaned even closer, watching as Kim’s face froze for a moment in a rictus of irritation before he was sneezing hard enough that some soup sloshed over the rim of the bowl. He had managed to bring up a hand last minute, but the covering was lazy at best, spray escaping through the gaps between his fingers and misting Harry again.
“hHH’GKKT’TTSschoouu!! Ugh, excuse me…”
He snuffled miserably, blinking away a few stray tears. Harry handed him a clean tissue, feeling giddy and electric but trying his absolute best to disguise it. He was doing a horrible job; he was entirely hard, painfully so, and he could feel the smug grin that parted his lips despite his best efforts to remain placid. He tried to subtly wipe his face clean with his shirt sleeve as Kim busied himself with blowing his nose.
“I take it you enjoyed that?” Kim asked suddenly.
Shit. He’d been even less subtle than he’d hoped. Harry winced and cast a guilty ‘well shucks, you got me’ grin his way, relieved to see that Kim didn’t look bothered in the least. If anything, the cheeky lilt of his voice and the smile that reached his eyes seemed to imply a sense of endearment and satisfaction.
“I did. Sorry. Bless you three times.” He wiped the spilled soup away with another tissue, offering out his hand to Kim to take his own used tissue and tossing them both.
“Mm, Thank you. No need to apologise, detective. It’s quite nice, you know. To feel desired at one’s most disgusting.”
“You’re so not disgusting right now. But trust me, Kim – I get it.”
They smiled at each other until Kim broke eye contact, reaching for his spoon and clearing his throat. Naked adoration, both giving and receiving, was still relatively uncomfortable for him - Harry understood this implicitly - but the tension of his mouth belied how much effort he was putting into repressing a most persistent smile. Noticing this just made Harry beam at him even harder.
~~~~~
To Harry’s dismay, Kim’s condition only seemed minutely improved after eating. He’d cuddled with the smaller man until he’d fallen asleep again, then pulled up KIm's desk chair and sat beside his bed, leafing through one of the Lieutenant’s books on Aerostatic Pilotage. It was good to distract himself like this as his boyfriend wheezed and snored several feet away from him. The endless stream of information that he filed away in the recesses of his brain was always a decent method of channeling his focus within the relative chaos of his noisy mind. Besides, it was much less destructive to overload his system with facts than substances. He tried not to think about the cooking wine he'd seen in a kitchen cabinet earlier.
A sudden whimper from the pile of bedding and limbs that was Lieutenant Kitsuragi had him mobile in an instant, hovering by Kim’s bedside as he groaned again, opening his eyes ever so slightly and panting for air. Before Harry even reached out to touch him he could feel that he was boiling, burning up as the heat radiated off of him. He was damp with perspiration, loose hair plastered to the skin of his forehead.
“Oh, sweetheart…”
Kim turned towards him, eyes unfocused and glassy with fever. When he didn’t say anything, just peered miserably in Harry’s general direction, almost through him without the aid of his glasses and with the sickness fogging his brain, Harry had to dig his nails into his palm to prevent a full-blown panic attack.
“I’m gonna get you a cold compress, okay? Just hold on a minute.”
He scrambled round the small bathroom for a face towel before rushing back to the kitchen, filling a bowl with ice cubes and water. The bowl was too small and the towel a little too big, but it would have to do.
~~~~~
Kim’s attempts to convince Harry that he was fine eventually came to an end. As Harry cupped his cheek and lay beside him on the bed, adjusting the compress and supporting him through the occasional bout of coughing, the Lieutenant’s resolve finally broke.
“Harry…” He started, and before Harry’s eyes he seemed to physically shrink down into the bedsheets. It was as though the determination and stubbornness left him all at once, his energy positively depleted. “I feel terrible.”
Kim’s eyes squeezed shut. Harry didn’t know if he was cringing, humiliated by his own admission of defeat, or whether he was trying his best not to cry. It might even be that he had a migraine coming on. It didn’t matter. None of that mattered – all that mattered was making him feel better. His chest physically ached.
“Okay. It’s okay.”
He kissed Kim’s burning cheek, took one of his clammy, limp hands in his own and laced their fingers together.
“Will you stay here tonight?”
“I can’t believe you even felt the need to ask.”
“Mm…apologies. I’m not used to this.” Kim spoke gently, squeezing Harry’s hand softly, far too softly.
“What - being looked after?”
Kim smirked at him just a little.
“’I can’t believe you even felt the need to ask.’”
“Ha ha. Funny man.” Harry deadpanned, pressing their foreheads together, forcing Kim’s eyes to cross as he stared at him down the length of his nose. The Lieutenant huffed a small laugh against his lips, just as Harry had intended.
“Listen, being a lonely, touch-starved, middle-aged man is my shtick, okay? If you come for my gig like that I’ve got nothing.”
Kim closed his eyes and smiled against Harry’s mouth.
“Not even communism?”
“Political alignments alone do not a personality or archetype make.”
“So find a new archetype. Maybe the loving, doting boyfriend.” Kim muttered. “You’re doing a very good job of it right now. It suits you.”
Harry moved down to nuzzle his face into the crook of Kim’s neck. His skin was sweat-slick, hot, and smelled distinctly unwell, but it didn’t bother him. He wanted to bite down into the flesh and taste him. He wished he could physically crawl into Kim and live inside of him. The feelings that overwhelmed him brought stinging tears to his eyes.
“You think so?” He asked round the lump in his throat.
“I do.”
They lay there for a little while longer, jostled only by another round of coughing from Kim that urged Harry to prop him up in bed again. The change in position seemed to shift the congestion in his poor nose, and with it, triggered an irritating tickle. Harry watched in adoration as Kim’s expression twisted, then gasped softly as Kim turned and sneezed twice against the column of his throat.
“Hupt’TSHHUuuu!! HGKk’Tschoouu!! Ohh…”
He rubbed his runny nose against Harry’s skin, causing him to stiffen and moan in pleasure. Kim now had intimate knowledge of exactly how to drive him crazy, but he sensed that this particular, miserable little motion as his boyfriend attempted to quell the tickle in his nose was simply enacted out of sheer exhaustion, rather than any active desire to work him up. Somehow, it just made him even hotter – that Harry was simply a means to an end in that moment, a substitute for a tissue or a hastily raised fist to rub against his nostrils was – well. His pants were torturously tight.
“Bless you, baby. You poor thing.”
With all the willpower he could gather, he lay Kim down again and wiped his dripping nose clean with a tissue. He couldn’t help taking his time, luxuriating in the sensation of playing with his nose through the thin material. He swallowed back a groan when Kim’s nostrils flared wide, flexing under his fingers and pushing them apart. He didn’t sneeze again, for which Harry was grateful – that might have been the final straw before he was forced to sneak off and rub one out in the bathroom. Not that Kim would have minded, he was sure. Enabler.
“You should try and sleep now, okay?”
“Yes.”
“I’m gonna stay here until you’re out and then I’ll crash on your couch.”
“Do you need – there are no clean sheets –“
“It’s okay, Kim. There’s a throw blanket, and it’s getting warmer. I’ll be fine, honestly.”
Harry stroked his cheek, something that Kim seemed to like a lot. The Lieutenant nuzzled into his palm and hummed an affirmative. Harry clucked his tongue softly - he was still much too hot, burning into him.
“Gonna take you to a doctor in the morning, honey. You’re not well at all.”
“Okay.”
“You sure? Gonna let me drive you there? No complaints, and no apologies?” He teased, relaxing just a little bit when Kim’s lips twitched into a tiny smile.
“I’ll behave.”
“Good boy.”
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innocent-cat · 2 years ago
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I like your headcanons. Can I be self-indulgent and ask for headcanons of married life with Soldier 76? (I'd like male!reader, but idk if the gender will even really come up much in this topic lol)
thanks<3 This is the last fic of the night. I've been trying to clear my asks lololol. The last one in there is vex vax and percy, so if thats not your's, i have politely rejected your idea. Sorry, i love you for asking anyway!!<3
Soldier 76 x Reader
Warnings - none
Tumblr media
"Husband76", Soldier 76 x Reader
.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺༻
oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my goshh
As a worker of overwatch, you were usually scheduled with him for missions when you two first met
When they realized you two worked well together, you were paired up VERY often
to the point where there was teasing towards the both of you
"You sure that's not your 'honey munchkin scurdel'?"
they would say anything to embarrass him its crazy
that implies that they totally knew he had heart eyes for you from the start
he didn't even tell them is the worst part
he just follows you around like a lost puppy
BUT enough of that
MARRIED life??
so so sweet.
yeah you guys are totally old working in an army
but the moments alone at home?
it makes an eternity seem like bliss
he really likes to hug you from behind and bury his face into the nook of your neck
so expect to feel his bristle beard a LOT
his voice is still totally dead, but the words that glide of that tongue? pure sugar.
"Are you okay, dear?"
"Hey."
"You always look amazing. Your beauty never left you from the day I first laid eyes on you."
"Did you need something?"
All of that was said with a smile on his face.
A pure, sappy, genuine smile
he literally smiles whenever he sees you
rizz76
you are his SUN
you go out, he goes out
At headquarters, the teasing died down, but the sound of the younger overwatch members cooing at you got 10x louder
"Aww it's 76 and 77 again! How are you two?"
just smile and wave
You two are definitely called relationship goals constantly
"I wish my boyfriend treated me like that."
(^said after Jack literally does anything romantically standard to you)
They all have low standards
(Save them)
He'd buy you anything you looked at.
Saw something in a window you pointed out?
whatever holiday is closest, he buys it for your gift.
even if it's just april fools.
"April fools!"
"Jack this isn't what you get someone for April fools."
it followed with a laughing fit between the two of you and you thanked him for whatever you pointed out
(he does it just to see you smile)
Sleeping in the same bed will always be the right kind of warm
summer or winter he is holding you
very closely
what if someone steals you in his sleep man??
If it's too hot he turns on the AC just to hold you
hes lowkey crazy for it
old age is getting to him
maybe both of you
Expect many dates
no matter how old the two of you are, he wont ever stop being romantic to you
if you guys ever get into an argument??
He is immediately working it out with you
"Love, what's upsetting you?"
Apologizes for whatever it is
and get this
HE CHANGES
HE CHANGES IT
he LISTENS bro
one time he asked you if he could pick you up
and you said yes
and he legit carried you around everywhere bridal style for a week
hes crazy strong
romantically strong
he'd die for you before he could even think twice
which is why the two of you WILL be together until the end of the world
holds your hand CONSTANTLY.
its like the fucker is glued to you
he has really rough hands
you made him start using lotion though
not as rough anymore!!!
thank god
oh my gosh he loves u sm bro
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banjjakz · 10 months ago
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"oh shit someones already figured it out" hehe i saw right through ur tricks LMAO just thought that gloomy yandere shoko would b Very hot (oh pretty neurotic woman w eyebags... u have captivated me). that was my argument. that one meme that says "my pussy has led me to places i wouldnt even go with a gun" HAHAHA
and abt final girl thoughts... squeezes ur gojo in my hand.... hes so dear to me, in all of his charming asshole and eldritch horror glamour. no cuz the way he chuckles and grins while demeaning reader !! he is not driven by pure love but by deeply rooted obsession, and its only suguru whos at its core- not reader. i love how neither gojo or reader respected each other despite their interactions taking place in the "gojo route". sure it is an otome route but you get no sweet lovin at all! you get literallyreduced to shreds, dissolved into particles scattered across the universe instead! sighs dreamily. anti-otome final girl fanfiction written by banjjakz youre so dear to me........
btw the gojo dsm comment took me out LMAO kinda unrelated but i know psychologists would NOT b welcomed in the jjk world lmao. the stigma around mental health matters between non-sorcerers pales in comparison to how a mental health professional would b treated by a higher-up, for instance. supposing ur goal is to have young sorcerers manage their negative emotions so that they dont go mental and die before they turn 18 then youre unfortunately getting executed for sabotage at best... i remember reading a yuuta fic in which it was mentioned that he had seen a psychologist after the rika incident. makes me wonder if thatd mean hes learnt (within that au) lets say breathing exercises and if he practises them whenever he gets anxious. every other sorcerer watching him like: https://www.tiktok.com/@androidg1rl/video/7291743972991503649
anyways sorry 4 rambling lolll thanks 4 writing final girlll loved it smmm and will be waiting for the secret endings eagerly :> !
no truly like serial bereavement was written for yuuta fans sure whatever but the actual intended audience is the #real sick and twisted individuals with a penchant for off-putting women who lowkey look like they'd be into consensual vivisection
"anti-otome" why am i obsessed with this label LOL wow this is really high praise anon like thank you???? crying.... we are inventing new genres of fiction over here..... just another day on banjjakz.tumblr.com
as for gojo's route, yeah, to be quite honest i can't in good faith imagine him in any lifetime or in any universe with anyone other than suguru. not even in a sappy stsg otp way, but like, just going off of my own personal notes of his characterization.... to me, pairing him with someone else -- even a self-indulgent MC -- would be egregiously out-of-character LOL. this was actually a point of writer's block for me as i was drafting final girl. like, i knew i wanted to tackle satoru. but i also knew there was no way i could convincingly or ethically produce a route where you were the object of his affections. had to take the cowards way out and have him kill you, lol, but at least we get lore? (more will be revealed in the final updates... i promise...)
KJHKSJDK mental healthcare in the sorcery world is actually insane like let's focus on physical healthcare and increasing the life expectancy first maybe
also if you'd like to slide the link to this therapized!yuuta fic.... [eyes emoji]
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finding-the-daylight · 4 years ago
Text
I haven’t written a headcanon in a minute, so I decided to try my hand at writing one again.
So we all know Kate and Garrett meet in Breaking Dawn and fall in love (idk if this happens in the book too because I haven’t read it in years, but it happens in the movie so we’re going with it). But what happens after they first meet? What happens between Kate shocking Garrett and him wanting to travel the world with her by the end? Here are some thoughts:
Garrett falls in love with Kate nearly immediately because of the power she possesses. He’s spent so much of his life fighting battles and trying to come across as being in control and powerful, so when he finds someone who has such power and strength without even trying, he’s immediately captivated. Kate, on the other hand, doesn’t care much for Garrett at first. He’s boisterous, he likes to show off, and he likes to think he’s right about everything. Kate’s been independent from day one and she’s the most powerful in her coven, so Garrett gets on her nerves as he shadows her around and tries to get her attention. The two of them really connect later on in the Cullen household as Kate grabs a book off the shelf and starts rattling off her favorite things about it - the warmth of the holiday scenes (something she tries to recreate with her coven every year), the love story, the happy ending, the way the author writes about the clothing in detail. It’s more of a distraction than anything else, because she is concerned for Renesmee who she considers to be a niece. She and the child had worked on puzzles earlier and as much as Kate enjoyed the human moments in her favorite books, having someone she considered her own niece helped her to feel more alive and human. It helped her to remember what she thought she never could. Garrett looks at her in awe as she goes on. He can sense that she is nervous about the upcoming fight and he knows how much she loves the Cullens as her own family, yet Garrett knows how much she truly values humanity and wishes to find and hold onto it within herself. Rather than attempting to remain his typical competitive and controlling self, he lets his guard down and shares with her some things he wishes he’d be able to have - a pet dog, a large family with lots of grandchildren running around, fresh coffee in the morning, and to know what it’s like to hear the heartbeat of the one you love as you drift to sleep. They bond over this connection. Both of their worlds have seemed so cold for so long, and yet, in this one conversation, they only find warmth. The two continue to talk and learn more about each other as the days pass on. They go on a few impromptu dates, mostly walks through the woods and even a hunting trip as Garrett agrees to try hunting Kate’s way. She learns that his sense of humor is unmatched and when he gets on her nerves, she’s able to get to him to settle down with just a few demands. Garrett learns that Kate truly has a heart of gold and when she’s stubborn, he has the patience to talk through everything with her until she’s able to compromise. The two of them are in love by the time the battle takes place and happily spend the rest of their eternities together.
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fyschl · 4 years ago
Text
summary : with an affectionate s/o ; gender neutral
characters : diluc, childe
warnings : none !
diluc
diluc can’t help but be flattered by each and every one of your advances,, his soft spot for you becomes especially evident whenever your name is even mentioned!!
he appreciates having you by his side and tries his best to let you know that,, although he isn't the best at it,, he can have a hard time keeping up with you, but he still gives his all to return as much as you give him
he often feels sorry for having a difficult time being as affectionate as you are. he gets concerned about you not feeling as loved as you make him feel, so he has a tendency to randomly surprise you with meals cooked by him and handmade gifts made during his spare time.
he swears you have some sort of healing effect on him.. there’s no way it isn't a possibility from the way your gentle smile, reassuring words, and soft touches seem to sooth both his heart and body
diluc, despite himself, gets sentimental on late nights. it’s on these moonlit nights where he really lets himself go,, showering you with his own sappy words of praise and appreciation
sometimes it just hits him like, wow, my s/o really does love me huh :]
as much as diluc enjoys being on the receiving end of your bouts of affection, he does get easily flustered when you indulge him in more public settings. he has enough self restraint to never snap at you, but he allows himself to gently push you away when he feels as though his heart’s on the verge of bursting. he has a hard time deciphering whether it’s from pure love or embarrassment,,
afterwards, he becomes overly apologetic once you’re finally behind closed doors,, the last thing he wants is for you to feel dejected by him
childe
childe relishes in your affection literally all of the time </3
he may even make it into a little game between the two of you.. who can outdo the other’s affection ? who’ll be the first to get flustered ? he comes out as the winner more often than not, too stubborn to give you the satisfaction of seeing him off his guard and red in the face
he gets jokingly pouty on days he feels as if your acts of affection were lackluster in comparison to other days. he’ll continuously prod at you until you give in and offer a peck on the forehead at the very least
every expression of love you give him is always, without a fail, returned with double the amount
make a comment about how pretty his eyes are ? he’ll respond with his own compliments about your features, with an added squish to your cheeks for good measure. praise him for his wide array of skills ? he laughs and messes with your hair, telling you that they’d definitely come in particularly useful when you finally move in with him
childe’s the type to come over to your house just to flop over your body and just,, lay there for a while,, he wouldn’t mind if you did the same !! he finds great comfort in just being near you,, he loves the safety and contentment he gets to let himself feel when alone with you
he’s all over you even in public.. it’s not that he has a hard time holding back, he just doesn't realize exactly what he’s doing until someone points it out ?? it just becomes second nature to him to have an arm tossed around your waist at all times. he feels a small hollowness inside whenever you’re gone from his side for longer periods of time than usual
he’ll make sure you make it up to him when you’re back in his arms,, clinging to your side until he gets his fill of your warmth
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jolynej · 4 years ago
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may i ask some hc's for a bisexual artist reader dating bruno, giorno and doppio? 🥺 👉👈 (bonus: reader gets to flip off/ smack diabolo for interrupting dates lol) - 🎨
yes! sorry it took so long, honey! this was really fun to write!! hope you enjoy, bby!!
all characters are 20+ in this piece!
CW: implied nsfw, a curse word in Doppio’s part
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• Immensely impressed with your artistic and creative capabilities, no matter your preferred medium. Each time that you present him with a finished copy of your work, his cerulean eyes light up, and his amber lips tug up to reveal a proud, dazzling smile. He gets worried that some of his compliments may sound repetitive, so he has developed a habit of commenting on and praising the most random aspects of your work. From anyone else it’d be odd to hear about that ‘handsome shade of green’ or the ‘fascinatingly sexy technique’ you used, but it’s Bruno, and you wouldn’t expect anything less
•If you’ll indulge him, he’s a big fan of sitting back and watching you work. Full warning though — those odd comments of his are in full abundance! The man truly hangs on to everything that you do and is very anticipatory of how your piece will turn out. But he is far from overbearing. He knows how bothersome it can be to have someone hovering over your shoulder, and he makes sure to allow you to have more than enough breathing room and space to work
•On special occasions such as anniversaries or your birthday — or even just on a random Tuesday, the man just loves surprising you, let’s be real — he’ll gift you art supplies. From brushes to paints, to art programs and aprons, Bruno has given you an array of art-related items. The moment you say that you’re eyeing something in particular or are running low on a particular supply, he mentally catalogues that information away for later
•100% into paint and sips! He signed you up for one as a date idea, and he found out that he really enjoyed himself. It’s a fun way for him to loosen up, relax, try something new, and to, of course, spend time with the person he loves most. He’s a bit of a giggly drunk, and he has definitely made you, and some other angry patrons, mess up due to his loud gasps and snorts and wheezes that he makes because he made such a silly little dolphin, wheeee!!
•Bruno offers to model for you — nude, if you don’t mind certain things popping up. He acts all suave and nonchalant when he proposes the idea, but when it comes down to the actual event of him posing on an ivory-colored sheet draped over a chaise lounge with one hand propping up his head and the other sat upon his thigh, he’s trying everything he can to keep himself from getting turned on. But there is something about the distinct way in which your eyes are narrowed in pure concentration, because of him, that gets him going
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•He’s a good critic — he’s fair and offers constructive criticism but is never harsh nor rude, plus, he’s quick to remind you that he knows next to nothing about art and what exactly goes into the creation of your pieces, so he tells you to take his suggestions with a grain of salt, it’s just his way of trying to get you to challenge yourself and achieve even great heights! Still, Giorno always finds something in your latest piece that he admires, and his compliments are always very genuine
•Definitely hangs your work up in his office and whenever someone comments on the work or asks who the artist is, he just smirks and says in a knowing, smug tone that he’s intimately familiar with their other work and that he’s grateful for the exclusive access that his position as don has given him. Whether or not the innuendo is lost or not on the other party is solely dependent on their own inference
•Giorno will absolutely surprise you with your own art studio and/or gallery to display your pieces. While the actual work and planning that went into this took months of proper organizing and hours of him touring different venues to search for the perfect place, the don makes it seem so nonchalant and casual when he calls you out of the blue to tell you to meet him at ‘x address’ at 6:00 PM sharp for your birthday present
•If you have any plants in your works, then he may surprise you with a fresh cut flower or fern or even a potted sapling, depending on the specific species of flora that was featured in your piece. Don’t be shocked to find a vase of roses or hydrangeas or forget-me-nots, or any flower for that matter, on your kitchen counter when you come home from work. He leaves a handwritten note in gorgeous cursive that says something sappy along the lines of ‘I hope this bouquet blooms new inspiration, amore’
•Much like Bruno, he’ll be happy to model for you, and he’ll have no qualms about doing so nude, if you ask, but he probably won’t bring it up otherwise. He’s very patient and does a great job staying still for you, and he will also create a few spontaneous vines and blossoms to better accentuate his chiseled features, stringing the delicate petals through his golden hair and dotting a few at his feet
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•Since the boss has him traveling all over, he’ll commission a small self-portrait of you to keep with him when he’s away. He’ll ask for a new picture every few months, which he explains is because he wants to keep up with your change in appearance, be it a new hairstyle/color, new glasses, a new piece of jewelry that he adores on you, etc... but honestly, he just wants to have as many pictures of you as he can — you’re just too lovely!
•Doppio brings up making one of those giant canvas pieces where you both cover yourselves in paint and make love on the canvas together. He had overheard Squalo and Tiziano discussing it one day, and he immediately found himself torn between whether you’d look cuter in pink or blue paint — or both. Doppio would love to sit and have his portrait painted; but alas, that wouldn’t go over well at all with the boss, so this, to him, is the next best thing! Plus! It’s a testament to the love that you both share, and no one has to know how it was made!
•During his travels, he’ll visit little gift shops and will mail back postcards that feature the work of local artists or photos of the scenery or native wildlife. He writes you a cute ‘I miss you’ letter and signs it with a tiny doodle, a heart, and in cursive he ends the note with a simple but intimate ‘your Doppio’ You should plan on making a scrapbook one of these days due to the amount of postcards that you’ve received over the years!
•You have a date night where you both paint along with an episode of Bob Ross, and to put it kindly, Doppio’s painting ends up on the fridge and not on your living room wall, but he’s still proud of himself, considering it’s his first time painting. A few days later, Diavolo walks by the refrigerator one day and asks you why ‘that tasteless shit’ is on display, causing you to scowl and smack him clean across his disgusted face
“Ah, tesoro...” Doppio winces, rubbing his cheek, red and hot from the impact of your harsh slap. “Why does my face hurt?”
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honeyedlashton · 2 years ago
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✨🐝🍼🥀 for ur pure asks !!
Thank you, Swan for asking me these!! I’m gonna answer them to the best of my ability:
✨- which fictional character (book, show, or movie) do you relate to most?
Okay to answer this one I actually had to get another opinion, but I think out of all the ones I got (Steve Harrington, Leia, Fred from Scooby Doo, Lagoona Blue, Ron Stoppable, David from Lilo and Stitch, Hercules, Milo from Atlantis, Kronk, Orange Blossom, Funshine Bear, Ferb Fletcher, and Jane from Daria) I’m gonna be a little self indulgent and say I most relate to Miss Honey (and Ferb). But I’m including the others cause they’re true and funny.
🐝- describe your aesthetic in emojis.
💫💘🌟🌷🛍⭐️🧸🍁👒✨ I hope this makes sense to every one else, because it makes perfect sense to me.
🍼- What is your favorite memory?
To kind of cheat on this question I’m gonna present a combination of memories. Specially with you, Swan. Like when we’re hanging out eating lunch, or researching some random thing, or are laughing till our tummies hurt, or are out shopping with our drinkity drinks, or are talking about deep shit no one else knows about us, or even when we’re doing brand new things we’ve never done before. Like those memories are always fond to me because I’ve got my bestie—more than my bestie, my family—by my side. So…sorry to turn it sappy, but there’s the truth folks. 🦢&🍯
🥀-last time you cried?
Probably like yesterday…literally yesterday cause we were going through Niall’s music videos and 1D songs and I love a good emotional punch. But the last time I like really cried was when we fucking watched Matilda. Damn…I was in hysterics, but who wouldn’t be. (Five fuckin minutes into the movie and I’m a blubbering mess)
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vale-writes-stuff · 4 years ago
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Shipping my friends with random people
A/N: Ok, sorry, this isn't really anything, but since one of my closest friend's birthday is today, I decided to do this. Not that she's gonna see this... Although if she does I'm in trouble. This is pure self indulgence, idk why I’m publishing this.
Stefanie:
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Ok she won’t see this, but happy b-day.
Ok so she’s a very... head-strong person
She's disturbingly smart, but always seems to get in fights...
She also likes one of her other friends, but I'm gonna pretend he doesn't exist for this, cause from what I can tell, he's kinda a dickish skater-boy with daddy issues-
But I honestly ship her with Kirishima
At first, I shipped her with Bakugou, before realising she literally is literally him- just a bit less violent and bullyish (and she's a bit more fun)
She'd 100% hate him at first. Sorry, but it's true.
And he wouldn't care, cause she sorta hates everyone
She has MAJOR trust issues (if she sees this, I'm dead)
So anyways...
She probably wouldn't even realize she liked him
*Cue me being a wing-person, and Denki and I trying to get them together (I'd literally be such good friends with him... and for what?)*
Or Kirishma getting the balls to ask her out
Either way, she'd definitely open up after that
And he'd laugh at how sappy she can be
Hypocrite
But they'd be cute- ngl
But if she were to ever find this, I'm dead
I could also see her with Iida though- cause they're both pretty studious
But she'd literally corrupt him...
Olive:
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Omg, so uh, idk what to say
But she's really sweet
And she loves to draw
And she has ADHD
Also, she's really chill and understanding
And like, rlly tall
So ofc, I ship her with Todoroki
She's such a compatible person- I could also see her with Tsuyu
Knowing how the both of them act though, again, someone would have to literally force them together
Like, It'd be painful at first
Again, lowkey wanting to be friends with Denki Kaminari (not like he's my favourite character or anything...)
So we'd have to literally force them together
Like lock them in a room
They'd eventually start talking
And boom- instant attraction
Ok maybe not yet
But Denki and I would wear them down eventually
She may be taller than him (idkkk??)- but I feel like he just wouldn't care
Misty:
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Ah yes, my favourite overly shy lesbian friend (ok she's my only one, but still)
I know her from Snapchat-
Shit- she may actually see this. She has Tumblr I think
Sorry Misty, love ya
Momo Yaoyorozu
Ok ok, hear me out
Misty is like, shy shy
And really sweet
But at the same time
Absolutely terrifying
Like, she even scares me at times
And that's what would make Yaoyorozu go, "I want that one"
Denki and I wouldn't even have to mess with her love life-
But they would be absolutely adorable and terrifying
I could also see Aizawa... cause she seems to have a strange obsession with strange men twice her age
Sara:
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Ohhhhhhhhhh shit
Again, from online
She's an... interesting person
If anyone here would have a super powerful quirk, it's her
Can I say Dabi? No, she'd probably dislike that
But she's literally him
Her entire family's conservative christians
She's a leftist bisexual with bright lime hair
And her father's... interesting
And is in a pretty high position in some boring company
Hitoshi Shinso.
I've thought long and hard about this
And they'd be... interesting
High-key hate each other at first
Like full on enemies to lovers
This wouldn't even be the first time this has happened to her...
Yeah... like I said
Not saying Kaminari and I would definitely have to force them together for a few months or anything. But we would.
But neither of them sleep...
And they've both been unjustly viewed as bad people their entire lives, despite wanting to help people (she wants to be a doctor)
Anyways
They'd be scary...
Me:
Idk I low-key like Hawks-
Idk I have no self awarenes
Someone help-
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karmasuna · 4 years ago
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》you have a crush on bobby pins
pairing; shinso x f!reader
genre; fluff
wordcount; 2235
synopsis; it’s shinso’s birthday and he gets a very peculiar gift from a mystery person.
a/n; wooooo it’s shinso day! this is purely self indulgent and also heavily inspired by this assclass karashuu fic by @/gwendee on ao3! they’re like my all time favorite writer yes i just-
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“Happy birthday, Shinso!” 
“Thanks,” the purple haired boy glances back at the girl who had just walked past time, giving her a small smile just to be polite. 
He doesn’t know that girl, he thinks. Ever since he’s joined the hero course he’s been getting a lot more attention, which he guesses was to be expected. It’s not bad, he supposes, but it does stand in stark contrast from how they had treated him just a year ago, shunning him because of his quirk. It’s a nice change.
 Coming to a stop in front of his shoe locker, he opens it only to promptly be hit in the face by an onslaught of gifts and letters. Shinso sighs. 
“Isn’t this is a bit too much,” he mutters quietly as he bends down to pick them up, nose scrunching a little when he catches a whiff of all the combined perfumes the girls must have drowned their cards and presents in.
Behind him Kaminari whistles lowly, eyeing the small mountain. “Bro, you’re gonna catch up to Todoroki’s level in no time. That dude has two fanclubs just here at school, I seriously have no idea how he does it.”
Finally managing to get everything out of his locker he slips on his indoor shoes, tapping them gently the floor before looking up at the blonde, unamused. 
“Take whatever you want,” he gestures at the pile. “It’s not like I would be able to eat so much chocolate anyways. I don’t even like them that much.”
“Sweet,” the blonde flashes him a grin, already fishing out a bag from his backpack and wasting no time with shoving boxes in. “You’re the best.”
“You came prepared, didn’t you.” Shinso grabs the cards and envelopes, scanning through the names to see if anything catches his eye. Unsurprisingly, nothing does so he just tucks them away in his bag. Of course you hadn’t put something in his shoe locker, that’s just cliché.
Kaminari shrugs, standing up and heaving the bulging bag over his shoulder. “Bakugo never wants his presents either, so I’m ready for it.”
When he gets to the classroom he’s greeted by a chorus of birthday wishes and another small stack of gifts on his desk. These elicit a genuine smile from him. They’re from people who know him well and it shows in the unique presents they had each picked out. 
It’s sappy but the thought they put into the presents makes his heart warm, and he doesn’t even try to stop the fond smile creeping onto his face as he flips through the album Midoriya had given him, complete with cute little notes from everyone. 
His eyes widen when he gets to the bottom of the pile, looking at the small pouch in confusion. There’s a few bobby pins inside and a small scrap of notebook paper, unfolding it to see “happy birthday” hastily written in chicken scratch. Clearly whoever wrote it was either in a hurry or didn’t really put any effort into the gift.
It’s a strangely thoughtful present, he supposes. Maybe now his hair would finally stay out of his face even when he does his homework after school and his hair gel softens just enough to let a few wisps constantly poke at his eyes.
Shinso thinks long and hard about who possibly could have given him such a peculiar gift even as the school bell rings, tuning out Aizawa’s announcements as he gets lost in his own thoughts, eyes scanning the room for any potential answers. 
There’s no way it could’ve been a boy. Last time he checked none of them were beauty gurus, and he’s pretty sure they wouldn’t know how to even use a bobby pin either, including himself.
So it was most likely a girl then. He finds his thoughts automatically drifts toward you, but he shoots the assumption down before it can even become an idea. Sure, out of all the girls he was definitely closest to you, but he’s convinced that you only talk to him because you feel sorry for his antisocial ass.
He sighs, burying his face in his hands. Now that he had jumped onto this thought train he can’t stop thinking about those stupid bobby pins. 
---
“Midoriya,” he later asks during class when he can’t take the curiosity anymore, “do you know if anyone in our class uses bobby pins?”
 Midoriya looks visibly confused from his strange question, and Shinso honestly doesn’t blame him at all. “Aren’t they really common? I’m not sure, but even Eri has some.”
That wasn’t helpful at all. Shinso thanks him anyways, and moves on to see if Kaminari and his habit of “observing” girls would be of any help. 
“Kaminari, I need you to help me find out who gave me bobby pins as a birthday present.”
The incredulous gaze he gets in response is definitely something he expected. “Um, what now?”
Shinso repeats himself, slower this time. The blonde still doesn’t seem to get it, so he pulls the small satchel out of his pocket and shows him. “Bobby pins,” he repeats, hoping Kaminari would connect the dots.
“Woah,” says Kaminari.
Shinso waits patiently to see if he had anything else to say. “That’s it? /Woah/?”
“I don’t know, man,” Kaminari peers at the little scrap of paper, studying the handwriting carefully. “I can help you ask around though. See what Jiro knows.”
---
Later that day after school he takes the bag out and puts it on his desk, staring at the small note that came with. He feels stupid for having used up most of his birthday thinking about bobby pins of all things. 
 “I need to know,” he tells himself before pulling out his phone and dialing.
 “The fuck you want, dipshit.” Bakugo picks up almost instantly, which Shinso is very thankful for.
“I need advice.”
“And you think I’m gonna help you like some shitty therapist? Fuck off, I don’t wanna hear you whine like a little bitch.”
Shinso waits a few moments, and when Bakugo doesn’t hang up he starts talking again. “I got bobby pins from someone in our class,” he begins. 
“Why do I need to know this.” The blonde sounds angry on the other end, so he decides to stoke his ego a little.
 “You don’t sugarcoat things, and I need you to tell me what I don’t want to hear. Not exactly something Midoriya can do.”
Bakugo snorts. “Damn right that shitty Deku’s useless. He’s fucking stupid.” 
“Yes,” Shinso agrees, “so help me out here.” 
And so he tells Bakugo everything. It’s not much given he really didn’t know anything about the mystery sender, but the blonde listens anyways, grunting occasionally to acknowledge his story.
“You have a crush on bobby pins,” Bakugo concludes when Shinso’s finished. 
“Say what now.” 
“You don’t know shit about whoever sent them but you can’t stop thinking about them. It’s pretty straightforward.”
The purple boy sighs loudly, not knowing what to say. Bakugo’s not wrong, really. It’s either that or-
“It’s either that or you have a crush on Y/N, since you obviously think she’s the one who gave them to you,” Bakugo says.
Shinso swears out loud. “I did not want to hear that,” he tells the other boy.
“Sorry. Maybe you shouldn’t have fuckin called me in the first place. This is a waste of time.” Bakugo doesn’t sound sorry at all.
“She doesn’t like me back.” At this point he doesn’t even bother hiding his crush on you anymore. If you were going to find out you would have ages ago.
“Why can’t you just ask her yourself and quit forcing me to listen to you whine like a little bitch.”
“Oh yeah.” He hadn’t even considered that an option. “I’ll definitely do that.”
“Cool. Can I leave now?”’
“Sure. Thanks, Bakugo.”
“I don’t want to hear your sappy shit,” is all he says before he hangs up. 
Shinso takes in a deep breath before pulling up your contact and quickly typing in a message, finger hovering on the send button, contemplating whether he should send such a dumb-sounding message and potentially weird you out. 
He’s still staring at the screen, his other hand going to brush hair from his eyes as he debates with himself.  
Suddenly there’s a knock at his door that snaps him out of his thoughts and makes him jump, resulting in his finger accidentally hitting the send button. Groaning in frustration, he gives himself five seconds to wallow in his regrets before getting up to open the door, definitely not expecting to see you there. 
“‘Toshi! I know it’s your birthday but it’s still Friday night, and you know what that means,” you grin at him, letting yourself in and flopping onto his bed. 
He closes the door and nods, sighing with the motion makes his hair fall into his eyes again.
“Yeah, you’re gonna force me to watch Haikyuu with you again.” 
You pout at him, scooting over to make space for him as you pull up the website on your laptop. “Don’t say it like you don’t enjoy it. I see the way you look whenever Yamaguchi gets to serve.”
“Shut up,” is all he says in response, but there’s no heat in his words.
“You aren’t denying it,” you say giddily, but your tone changes when you look at him and see him brushing hair out of his eyes again. 
“Didn’t you get the bobby pins his morning? Use them, geez,” you say casually as if it were no big deal.
Shinso freezes in his actions, trying to process what you had just said. “Yeah, I did,” he says carefully, trying not to give way the way his heart was racing in his chest, “how’d you know?”
Just then your phone pings, you laughing when you see his message. “Mhm, I put them there. If you’re not gonna use them then give ‘em back, I don’t wanna waste any. 
“Thanks,” he says, feeling oddly touched now that he knew it was really you. “I would use them but I don’t know how to.”
 You raise a brow, surprised by this new information. “Seriously? Don’t worry, I gotcha. Where are they?”
 Reaching over to grab a few from his desk he hands them to you, sitting still as you shuffle around to sit between his legs, carefully gathering the stray locks and twisting them gently. “Tell me if it hurts, yeah?”
 His brain is short-circuiting from how close you suddenly are. He can practically smell your shampoo, and seeing you so pretty and focused up close doesn’t help him calm his heart at all. 
 Your lips look really kissable right now, he thinks to himself. If he just tilted his head up the smallest of fractions your lips would meet, but he’s too afraid of ruining your friendship.
 “Damn, you really put a lot of effort into getting me a present,” he murmurs, “with the chicken scratch and all.”
 “Shush, you know how bad I am with birthdays. Be grateful I got you anything at all.”
 “Wow, I’m so touched,” he retorts sarcastically, rolling his eyes at how you had just blatantly admitted you didn’t remember his birthday, “guess this means I don’t have to get you that Oikawa figure for your birthday then.” 
 He chuckles when he feels you freeze up from his words. “What? You literally gave me your own pins and told me to give them back. What kind of a crappy birthday present is that?”
 “No, please. I need my Tooru,” you whine, voice smaller than before. “I’ll get you something, anything I can afford, okay? Just tell me what you want.”
 He hums, thinking about his options,  waiting for you to get back to work on his hair before speaking up again. “Anything?”
 “Anything my wallet can handle,” you clarify, mock glaring at him as you pull at the strands roughly, making him grunt in pain. “Okay okay, I got it, chill.”
 “I don’t think what I want is going to hurt your wallet at all,” he breathes, studying your reaction to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. 
 “Mhm,” you say, not really paying attention to his words as you slide the last bobby pin into his hair, “I’m done! What do you want then-”
 You’re interrupted by him tilting his head up ever so slightly to press his lips against yours in a soft kiss. Gasping in surprise, you don’t even have time to react before he pulls back, rubbing at the back of his neck bashfully. 
 “Um, I’m sorry,” he begins, but this time you cut him off, throwing your hands around him and grinning.
 “For what, stupid? Kiss me again.”
 There’s no denying your words set his cheeks away, but he swallows before leaning back in to connect your lips again. Hands carefully snaking their way around your waist and pulling you even closer, holding you so gently as if he were afraid you would shatter or disappear. 
 “I really like you,” Shinso whispers when you pull apart, bumping his nose gently against yours.
 “I like you a lot too, ‘Toshi,” you grin, “happy birthday.” 
 He hums in agreement, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Best birthday ever.”
---
“I should just give you my phone case or something for your birthday.”
 “What the hell? Our phones aren’t even the same model!”
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imaginefe · 4 years ago
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Naga Saias- so uhhhhhh, I wrote a kind of sappy Joshua fic like a minute ago. If you’d like to see I can submit it? (It’s purely selfish wish fulfillment on my end 😅)
YESSSS... SORRY IM SEEING THIS LATE I WOULD LOVE TO READ SELF INDULGENT JOSHUA SAP FIC
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scribble-fics · 6 years ago
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My two favorites
Welp. Figured i make a post regarding my favorite characters from bnha Warning these are very self indulgent. Also yeah, they are side characters but i love them💖 besides i dont see any headcanons for them. So figured I'd make some.
Tetsutetsu-
♡- he's an absolute darling of a boyfriend. He's so compassionate and helpful and encouraging. He's perfect?? Hello??
♡- he sends you good morning texts every morning with like 20 heart emojis. He is purely in love with his s/o and he's going to show it.
♡- gives the best hugs in class 1-b. He's so affectionate with his s/o and just so amazing.
♡- loves when his s/o plays with his hair. Its so soft and fluffy and he thinks it feels amazing.
♡- couldn't you just imagine him coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you? Nuzzling into the crook of your neck? 💜💜🧡💙💕❤💖💖🖤💚 GOD I LOVE THIS BOY SORRY HHH
♡- his kisses being sweet and full of love💖💖💖 its weird because his lips are kinda cold but his tongue is warm. So its a good contrast.
♡- tickle fights where he doesn't go overboard but still tickles you a bit. Because he loves hearing your laugh.
♡- tetsutetsu allowing only you to just call him tetsu for a shorter version of his name. Anyone else does it and he'll bark at them, "ITS TETSUTETSU!"
♡- him taking you to the gym when he goes. Letting you encourage him to push harder and be his little cheerleader.
♡- testu letting you steal his jackets and hoodies and shirts because it lets people know your his and its adorable.
♡- doing the cute coupke sit-up thing where when he does a sit up you'll be there ready to smooch him.
♡- testu being protective about you!! Wrapping an arm around your waist when he sees other people looking at you in a certain way.
♡- GIVES SOME GOOD GODDAMN CUDDLES!!! He's always so warm and inviting. Definitely the type of person to trap you in his arms and refuses to let you leave!! Who would want to though.
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Tokoyami-
💜- bird boy being really embarrassed with public affection is my drug.
💜- hes not saying no to it, hes honestly just really embarrassed and shy about that stuff.
💜- not being able to kiss, tokoyami has studied the way of the hug. He's one of the best hug givers.
💜- darkshadow getting along with you!!! Just coming out randomly and nudging you for pets.
💜- in private tokoyami will be a sappy boyfriend who holds you close and mumbles poetic verses and he traces patterns on your skin.
💜- you are the light of his life. His only weakness is you and your love and he never wants to overcome it.
💜- he's 5'2 do unless you're really short, then you're going to be either his size or a bit taller. He doesn't mind though.
💜- his feathers will floof all up if you kiss his beak. It's just too much for him, how is someone like you so cute?
💜- Wear his capes and stuff!!! Joke around with him and stuff about how your batman!!!! Hear him chuckle and see him smile!!!
💜- on a date in a park one day he did that cheesy thing where you carve your initials in a tree with a heart around it. Its the tree where ge confessed to you. Its your tree of love.
💜- take him out places he's never been!! Like McDonald's or somewhere he would turn his beak up to because irs not edgy enough for him, "holy shit their sweet tea here is amazing..",, "I TOLD YOU!!"
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sidehowriting · 6 years ago
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Movie Night
Masterlist in bio!
A/N: I posted a bit ago about how I was writing some Supernatural stuff with Jack. I decided to post one of them! This was purely for my friend and mine’s self indulgence. Also, I 100% wrote this while I was on my period. 
If this is your introduction to me and you’re thinking “hmm, does she have more Supernatural fics?” I don’t! They’re all Marvel! This is my first Supernatural one. But I have more written of Riley and Jack so if you want an emotional roller coaster (fluff, smut, heart break) lemme know! I have 4.5 other parts in various stages of development. 
Pairings: Jack Kline x OFC (Riley)
Summary: Riley and Jack have a movie night.
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings:  Fluff, period talk, Jack being too pure for this world
I walked into the bunker, plastic bags in my hands. I was happy to be back with my supplies and ready to hunker down for the evening. Sam and Dean were at the table, looking over some fliers. I was hoping it wasn’t a case.
“Hey, Riley!” Dean signaled me over. “Look at this.” He held the flier out to me.
I read it over. “The new diner just opened? That’s cool.”
“Not just cool.” Dean rolled the flier up. “They have this burger. Double The Triple. Six layers of pure beef and cheese.”
“It’s a heart attack on a bun,” Sam interjected, glancing from me to his brother.
“Sounds like it,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Anyways,” Dean said, louder than normal, glaring at Sam. “They’re having a contest. If you can eat it all in one sitting, you get it for free. If you can eat it in under a half hour you get a free piece of pie.”
“Could you even eat a piece of pie after that?” I asked.
“You can take that home,” Dean countered, sounding offended. “I love me some pie.”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. Of course, Dean would want the pie.
“So, Dean’s making us go right now,” Sam said, sounding annoyed.
“Dude, the flier says while pies last.”
“I don’t think they’re gonna run out of pies anytime soon, Dean. No human can eat that much in that short of time.” Watching Sam and Dean bicker was always fun. “Wanna come?” Sam directed the question at me.
As my reply, I simply dumped my bags out in front of them. Bars of chocolate, boxes of tampons and pads, and pain killers skirted across the table. “No, thanks. I’m gonna stay in tonight. Just bring me back Dean’s leftovers.”
“I’m wounded you don’t think I can do it.”
“Oh, I know you can’t.” I started putting all my stuff back into the bags. “Is Jack going with you guys?”
Sam shook his head. “No, he said he wanted to stay here.”
“So, you’re babysitting tonight,” Dean said, getting up. “We’ll be home later. Call if you need anything.”
“Yeah yeah,” I waved them off. “Try not to die.”
“I’m not gonna die. I’m gonna truly be livin’,” Dean said, pulling on the opening of his flannel. Sam rolled his eyes and followed Dean out, still trying to convince his brother this was a terrible idea.
With the two of them out, I went up to my room and got comfortable. Big, baggy sweats, all my chocolate around me. I was snuggled under my covers, laptop prepared with sappy romantic comedies. I was ready to fully indulge.
Just before I pressed play, I heard a knock on my door. “It’s open!” I called, knowing it had to be Jack.
Sure enough, he peaked in. “You didn’t go with either?”
“And watch Dean vomit up two pounds of cheeseburger for a free slice of pie? No thanks. Plus, I’m on my period. Don’t really feel like goin’ out right now. Why didn’t you go?”
“Dean still doesn’t seem to care for me. I didn’t want to burden him.” He sounded so defeated. It broke my heart.
“Do you wanna hang out with me instead? I’m not doing anything real exciting, but I could use the company.”
Jack’s face instantly lit up. “I’d really like that.”
I scooted over, inviting him in under the covers. He climbed in, his warmth filling the bed. I adjusted my laptop so we could both watch it. “I hope you don’t mind rom coms.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
I smiled. “Well, I think this will be a good lesson for you.” I pressed play and the let movie start, passing some chocolate to Jack. He took the piece, popping it in his mouth and eating it happily. “This is nougat!”
“It is!” I smiled at him, knowing it was his favorite. “I have chocolate nougat, chocolate crunch, chocolate peanut, and dark chocolate. You can have whatever you want.”
“Thank you, Riley.” His smile was so cheery and sweet, warming me from the inside out.
We went back to watching the movie and Jack seemed very engrossed in it, much to my surprise. He munched on the chocolate nougat, eyes glued to the screen. “So, they end up falling in love?” Jack asked, breaking the silence.
“Yep. That’s the basis of rom coms. Man and woman meet. They kiss. They fall in love. They live happily ever after.”
Jack studied the screen again, brows furrowed and eyes tense. “This isn’t how it works in the real world, is it?”
“No, Jack. This is fiction,” I said softly, watching him. “Not everyone falls in love. Not everyone gets a happily ever after.”
He leaned back against my pillows, his shoulder brushed against mine. “Have you?”
“Fallen in love?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think so. I thought I was back in high school, but he was a douche and just wanted to sleep with me. That’s probably as close as I got. Then after my mom died and I moved in here with Sam and Dean… Dating and boys really hasn’t been a top priority since.”
“I’m really sorry you lost your mom. I understand what that pain is like.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. “I really appreciate that, Jack.” I leaned back next to him, laying my head against his shoulder. There was a moment where he was tense, but that quickly dissipated.
As the movie went on, I felt his hand moving towards me. Small, light touches. Like he was testing the water. I didn’t push him away and, eventually, his fingers twisted themselves with mine. Coincidently, it was the same time the two characters in the movie were holding hands.  
Lying next to him was relaxing. He had a warmth and gentleness to him that made my heart flutter. It was something I could do all day. I snuggled closer, rolling and wrapping my other arm around him. I quickly glanced up at him, happy when I noticed he was smiling. I mimicked his reaction and turned my attention back towards the movie.
The credits had just started to roll when I heard Sam’s voice again. “Riley!” He called and tapped lightly on my door. “We’re back. I have food for you.”
I closed my computer and moved off Jack. I winced, feeling a sting of cramps. “I’ll be right back,” I said to him. He nodded, his usual sweet smile on his face.
I found Sam in the kitchen, unloading some white Styrofoam containers. “Hey,” he greeted me. “I got you and Jack a cheeseburger. Do you know where he is?”
I nodded. “Yeah, he’s in my room. We were watching a movie while you guys were gone.”
“Anything good?”
“Just a rom com.”
“Did he like it?”
“I think so. He was smiling a lot.”
Sam gave a soft laugh. “I’m sure that’s why he was smiling.”
I changed the subject. “Where’s Dean?”
“Probably dying in the bathroom.”
“Did he win the free pie?”
“Ha, no. But he did eat the whole thing by some miracle. He had to have me drive us back.”
Sam handed me two of the containers and I took them. “He’s so dumb.”
“Tell me about it. We coulda just bought a piece of pie.”
“Well, I’m gonna go back and lay down. I’ll give Jack his food. Thank you, Sam.”
Sam gave me a wave as I carried the food back to my room. Jack was exactly where I left him, perched on my bed next to my laptop. I climbed back in, curling my legs to me to help with the pain. “Sam brought us food.”
I passed Jack his container. He opened it and pulled out the burger. “That was nice of him.” He took a bite of it. “Can we watch another rom com?” He asked through bits of food.
I smiled. “Of course. I’m glad you liked the other one.”
“I did,” he said as I started to scroll through the options. “I like seeing couples in love.”
Hunched over my computer, I glanced at him. His eyes shone so brightly, his lips slightly shiny from grease. Sam had pointed out before that Jack had a crush on me (much to Dean’s dismay). I wasn’t sure I believed it at first. Sure, Jack was very nice to me and always smiling. He’s like that to everyone. But now…
“That’s real sweet,” I said softly, setting up a new movie. He smiled proudly and I couldn’t deny that I had some feelings for him as well.
With my own food in my hands, I adjusted on the bed and hit play. Jack ate eagerly, focused intensely on the movie. My hunger and focus were fading in and out, interrupted by cramps. I set my half-eaten burger to the side, reaching to my bedside table. I started searching around for the pain pills I had just bought.
“Are you okay?” Jack asked, his eyes now trained on me.
“Yeah,” I said, finding the little bottle. “This is just a rough period. Lot’s of cramps.”
“I know you mentioned it before, but I don’t exactly know what that is.”  The look of confusion on his face was utterly adorable and I started to giggle.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t explain. You know what makes boys and girls different right?”
Jack nodded and said bluntly, “I have a penis and you have a vagina. Dean told me.” He had no shame.
“Yes, that is accurate,” I said, brushing my hair behind my ear. “Well, I also have a uterus in my body and every month it thinks I’m going to have a baby and every month I don’t so it basically…” I started sweeping down my lower half like I was brushing crumbs off. “Sheds. The lining of it sheds.”
He just stared at me in utter fascination, not a spark of shame or embarrassment on his face. He seemed more concerned than anything. “Does it hurt?”
“Very much so.”
“I can help.” He sounded excited and eager. “I can take the pain away.”
I had nothing to lose. “Okay. How?”
“Show me where it hurts.” He put his food to the side and scooted closer to me.
I placed my hand on my lower stomach where the cramps were currently showing no mercy. “Right here.”
“Lay down,” he instructed, and I did as he said. I stretched on my bed, laying perfectly flat. He took a deep breath and hovered his hand over mine. “Will you move your hand?” I did and a moment later his hand was pressing against me. It was uncomfortable, lying flat was not an ideal pose for dealing with cramps. But as Jack’s eyes and hand began to glow, the pain ebbed away.
“How did you do that?” I asked once the pain was completely gone. He removed his hand as I sat up, staring at him in shock. “That was incredible.”
“I’m not really sure. I’m still learning to work my powers. But I just thought about how I didn’t want you to be in pain.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, sitting back up. “Thank you so much.”
He gave his signature smile and I leaned across the bed and kissed his cheek. His eyes widened and the blush spread across his face at lightening speed. Startled a bit by my own brazen gesture, I turned my attention to the movie still playing on my computer. I adjusted it to the point we dropped off.
Jack and I re-positioned ourselves, still sitting close to each other, shoulders touching. We finished our food as the movie played, scooting closer and intertwining when we were done. By the time the second movie came to an end, I was laying across Jack with his arms wrapped securely around me.
I didn’t bother to stop the credits. I was too comfortable laying with Jack. “Can I ask you something?” I tilted my head up at him, trying to meet his eyes.
“Of course.”
“Do you like me? Like, how it is in the movies?”
“I do,” he said shyly. “I think you’re really pretty and nice and you always make me smile.”
“Jack,” I pushed myself up, leaning across him. “You’re so sweet.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Does that mean you like me too?”
“Yeah, it does.” I sat back on my legs, facing him. “Do you wanna kiss me like the movies?”
Jack nodded eagerly, making me laugh. I took the initiative and cupped his face, bringing him to me. He seemed frozen when our lips touched. Very unsure of how to act. “It’s okay,” I said softly against his lips, brushing my nose against his. “Just relax.” I opened my eyes and saw him staring back at me. “Put your hands on me. Be natural.” He complied, setting them on my waist as I kissed him again.
It took a few more kisses but he got the hang of it. Head tilting, lips parting, tugging me closer to him. I pulled away again, stroking his cheeks with my thumbs. His breath tickled my skin, our lips still close. “Was that good?” He asked so innocently. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“It was perfect, Jack.”
Tags: @lancsnerd @81mysteriouslyme (hope you don’t mind the tag, and tagging this account since this is a Supernatural fic lol)
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johnny-and-dora · 6 years ago
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creator tag meme 2019
i was tagged like a million years ago by the absolutely lovely maddie @alljustrunaways and the equally darling hannah @nevermindthewind! thanks babes! sorry this took me so long christmas kinda got in the way haha
Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc!) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2018. Tag as many writers/artists/etc as you want (fan or original!) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!
holding back the flood
i love this fic, you guys. writing dialogue has never been my strongest suite and it was kind of a challenge seeing as i’d never written rosa before but i’m so happy with how it turned out! a true ode to the sleuth sisters (and also jake peralta, super husband)
every storm that comes, also comes to an end
i love the whole coral palms saga so dearly and i really loved writing this little scene post coral palms pt.3 and giving these two the proper reunion that they deserve. writing sappy and drowsy jake’s pov for this one was especially fun and i’m really proud of this fic <3
i’m electric, a romantic cliche
i’ve always loved the mattress and just early relationship peraltiago in general so it was really fun to write amy gushing about jake so early on. i love writing for the both of them but i really do adore amy’s internal monologues and this is full of her just being soft about this huge dork that she’s just maybe starting to fall in love with. write what you want to read i guess haha
tell me everything’s okay
this got a little lost bc i posted it the day before b99 got cancelled and the apocalypse happened haha but i’m still pretty proud of it! i rarely write angst but show me going - more specifically, jake’s character development (which is one of the things i love most about the show) - really inspired me - don’t worry though, i’m physically incapable of writing something that doesn’t have a happy ending.
you do know me
this fic is pure unadulterated self-indulgent fluff and honestly i find it a little too cheesy but. i don’t care. because who doesn’t love a fic that could basically be lifted straight out of every rom-com ever? this one also reminds me how much my writing skills have subtly improved since i wrote it at the start of the year which makes me more proud of what i’m writing now :)
i’m 99% sure that every single b99 fic writer on this hellsite has done this tag by now so i’ll leave it up to you - instead i’m going to use this space to thank every single b99 fic writer for blessing us with their wonderful wonderful writing (but specifically @startofamoment, @amyscascadingtabs & @fourdrinkamy bc they’ve been very nice to me and encouraged me to keep writing whether they know it or not haha) <333 thank you!
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shewhowantsmouseears · 6 years ago
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The Son Of Scheherazade, 24
Notes: As always, big thanks to my wonderful editors, Drucilla and BlueShifted!
This arc is going to be kind of... wonky? It's one of those things where I know point A and point C, but no idea how to tie them together via B. So, expect some making up of stuff as I go along. Hasn't hurt me so far, right?
Summary: With the last piece of the "map" in sight, Mickey and Minnie indulge in finding their own treasures. But love comes at a cost, and Mickey isn't willing to pay the price.
The crew bid goodbye and good riddance to Lotus Blossom, after she rejected Mickey's rather generous offer to drop her off at the nearest town – as she correctly guessed that Mickey planned to drop her into the first jail cell he could find – and they were off to the fishing town of Alnihayat. Mickey's guess about the map was, for now, still only a guess, as he had only one small piece of proof. No matter how you arranged the three pieces, they didn't fit in any map-like shape. Instead, as Mickey explained to the crew as he laid out the pieces in his room, they were shaped more like book pages. They appeared to fit together better when one was put on top of the other, and there was an old, sticky substance to the edges that could have been part of a book's binding. They still couldn't read a word of it, but Mickey figured they might not have to – that with the final piece, the spell would be complete, as per the Phantom Prince's plan.
But they could only tackle one problem at a time, and right now that was finding the final piece itself. Everyone was grateful to get back to that chase, as the inner demons of the Cave of Wants had tormented their minds plenty, and boy did they need a distraction. Nobody talked about what they saw, and nobody wanted to think about it, Mickey most of all. As disturbing as the whole thing had been, there had been one damming, undeniable thought he couldn't put away.
What good is controlling your anger after it's already happened?
He could be sorry all he wanted for his actions, and do his best to avoid losing his temper in the first place, but both of those meant squat if he was still continuing to hurt people. He needed to find a way to control himself once his anger was at its highest, and he suspected that his eventual final face-off with the Phantom Prince would make him the angriest he'd ever been. What to do, what to do...?
“Alnihayat is a pretty small town,” Goofy explained that day, when they were laying anchor to the sand and getting ready to depart. “And the locals are friendly, so we shouldn't have any trouble. No legends, no monsters, this town is as normal as normal can be.”
“No town is that normal,” Horace countered with a grumble. “It's probably got some deep dark secret that will pop open the second we step foot inside.”
Clarabelle punched his shoulder. “Oh, you're just upset Lotus stole your wallet.”
“Who steals a wallet from a guy trying to kill himself?!”
Minnie bit her lower lip as she watched everyone talk and discuss who would split off where. Truthfully, she had a slight ulterior motive – when she first heard the words “fishing town”, she had a fair assumption that the ocean would be there, and as someone who had never seen it, she felt an itch to take a look, especially after her revelation within the cave. It felt selfish to ask this, though, as this was a mission, but on the other hand, maybe the map piece was on the beach. Her newfound independence was a shaky thing, but it became stronger each time she used it. She opened her mouth -
“Can I take the beach?” Mickey asked, his voice tingling with excitement. “I've never seen the ocean before!” He then turned to Minnie, oblivious as always. “How about you, Minnie?”
Her first instinct was to say of course master, yes master, whatever you say master, oh happy day, her and Mickey were completely in sync! “I... I haven't seen it either, Ma... Mickey.” It had also been a struggle to say his name instead of his title, but this hadn't gone unnoticed. The first couple of days, it got proud smiles from everyone – save for Daisy, who always had to ruin things (“Aw, is the spice out of your relationship?”) and earned a good ponytail-yank from Mickey again. As she did it more and more the ship adjusted to it, but the one who kept smiling about it no matter what was Mickey. He grinned merrily, and there was an extra flick-flick-flick to his thin black tail. It was embarrassing, and even more embarrassing to admit to herself she enjoyed his reaction.
“Well!” Mickey slapped his hands on the table, unable to stop smiling. “That settles that! Me and Minnie will take the beach!”
“Why don't you take Pluto along with you?” Goofy suggested. “Poor pup's been cooped up here for so long, could use some time in the fresh air. I'll hang back today and guard the ship.”
Mickey's joy grew tenfold. “Aw, really? Thanks, Goofy! Why, I'll even take my flying carpet along, see if I can get it to work! I bet we'll find the last piece of the spell in no time flat!” Flashing one more gleeful grin to Minnie, he jogged off to his room, eager to tell Pluto and grab the carpet. In his room, after sharing the news with man's best friend, he rolled up the rug and tied it to Pluto who offered no complaint. After a few more minutes of planning, Mickey was ready to leave when he saw Donald standing in the doorway. “We're all set, Donald!”
“I figured,” Donald said, glancing this way and that before entering the room. Though Daisy had finally, reluctantly, shown she cared about others, she was still ready to tease and trick at the drop of a hat. Some conversations were better off private. “But I wanted to help you out before you go.”
Mickey raised his eyebrows. “Help with what?”
Donald lowered his voice, one hand to the side of his mouth. “You and Minnie, going together to the beach, a sight neither of you have ever seen before... that's totally a date.”
Mickey's entire face turned crimson, and on impulse he began to flail, his heart skipping several beats. “W-what?! No! No it isn't! It's just a...” Then again, what did he know? He who avoided every sappy lovey-dovey moment with his parents whenever possible? “... Huh. Is it a date?” He glanced at Pluto, in case he had the answers, and the dog shrugged.
“I may not know much about much,” Donald conceded. “But this spells out a date to me. So you gotta make it count! Who knows when another good chance like this will come up? If you want to be Minnie's suitor instead of her Master, you gotta do three things to make this a good date!”
Mickey was ready to learn, but he had to ask. “How do you know what a good date is?”
“I've done my homework,” Donald said, leaving out that he had asked Goofy for advice, as he didn't trust Daisy to be entirely truthful, Horace and Clarabelle would have argued about it, and gods know what kind of musical number Jose and Panchito would have done. After all, Goofy had, somehow, charmed his fair share of women, even if some of it was purely by mistake. “And as long as you do these three things, you've set yourself up for future dates. Number one, you gotta make it enjoyable.”
“Makes sense,” Mickey replied, arms crossed and head tilted. “I'm sure there are lots of fun things we can do at the beach. That's the easy part.”
“Number two,” Donald continued. “You have to learn more about each other. That way, you make sure you're compatible!”
There was a bit of hesitance on Mickey's part about this. “I... guess so...” He didn't care to share his father's bloody history, even if it was to come up someday, and Mickey himself was seemingly very dull. He hadn't gone on any big adventures until he met Minnie, so what could he tell her? On the other side, there was plenty he still didn't know about Minnie. What kind of places had she been to? What kind of masters had she gone through? What were her favorite stories, what were her favorite teas, what were her favorite type of jewels he could reasonably buy to make into earrings – it was fair to say that Mickey wanted to know everything and anything about Minnie, no matter how obscure and tiny the detail. “So what's number three?” Was it a kiss? He hoped it was a kiss.
“Set up the future,” Donald answered, dashing Mickey's silly hopes. “That's what ties the first two together! If you can always find a way to have fun and learn more things about each other, that means you two can be together for life. So make plans for what to next! You gotta think of the big picture, what to do once we beat the Phantom Prince and get your parents back!”
“Oh. Is that all?” Mickey was surprised at this, as that detail had been with him for ages. “Shoot, she'll just come home with me and my folks to live in the palace. Then we can spoil her rotten and give her the life she's always wanted.” It was a perfect, fool-proof plan!
“Oookay...” Donald was reluctant to burst Mickey's bubble, but as he had made it one of his life goals to repay Mickey for all his kindness, it was for his friend's own good. “Sounds nice, really does, just one tiny detail missing... have you asked Minnie if that's what she's always wanted?”
If there was a facial equivalent for a wooden boat crashing into sharp rocks, that was Mickey's face right that second. As the boat broke into tiny splinters, so did Mickey's plan, which ultimately made him the fool. “Uhhhhhhh...” He dragged the sound out, feeling his entire body shrink smaller and smaller. Here he'd been trying to plan for Minnie's freedom and there he went snatching it away. “I... mean... I just... kind of assumed...” And how did that make him any different from any of Minnie's previous masters? Doing whatever they wanted with her and not bothering to ask her opinion on it? He was a heel! He was the biggest heel to ever heel!
“Hey, hey, back into real time, buddy!” Donald poked Mickey's cheeks, trying to snap him out of his downward spiral of self-loathing. “It's okay! You meant well! You just have to talk to her about these things! Take a deep breath now...” In, out, in, out, everything was fine, just fine. “You're going to have a great date with Minnie, you'll learn more about each other, you'll ask her about the future, and in the mean-time, just remember you're not a bad guy. You're going to give her her freedom...” Donald trailed off. Come to think of it...
Mickey took one last deep breath through his nostrils and straightened up. “Okay! You got it, Donald! Pluto, let's head out!” He began to march forward.
Donald turned around, trying to catch him. “Actually, Mickey-”
“Not to worry, I can do this!”
“Yeah, you can, but I just wanted to-”
“I'll let you know how it goes!” And Mickey was gone, Pluto trailing along behind him.
Donald stood alone in Mickey's room, the unheard question still on his lips. Hm. Hm! Perhaps it could wait. Yes, surely someone as nice and kind-hearted as Mickey would figure it out on his own, and if he didn't, Minnie might bring it out of him. They were both wonderful people who deserved one another, and Donald wanted them to be together, as he felt they would be happier this way. He truly did love them both in his own way, like a brother and sister. And he wanted his brother and sister to be together!
“… Right, we tell no one that thought,” Donald said quietly, amazed he could humiliate himself without Daisy's help. “Ah, I'm worrying over nothing. They'll be fine.” He put his hands in his pockets and whistled, a little ray of cheerful sunshine basking over his head. For now, he took that question and tucked it away for another time.
Why was Minnie still a genie?
~*~
It was a warm day, with no clouds in the sky but a pleasant breeze would gently sway in from time to time. The group left the ship and entered the sleepy town before parting their separate ways, and at first Goofy's description won out. It was a tiny town, with only a handful of shops that weren't devoted to fish and the job of fishing, and even tiny children were selling necklaces made out of clean fish bones, yelling out in the wet streets about their wares. Mickey and Minnie were overwhelmed by the smell of the nearby ocean, and they didn't wait to say goodbye before suddenly rushing off in the direction of the boats, knowing their destination was close. Jose mused about young love, and Panchito bought six necklaces.
The two mice zigzagged their way around amused fishermen, Pluto yipping at their heels. They nearly tripped over wooden stairs that led down onto the hot sand, but they refused to stop running until the water was right at their feet. Mickey panted to catch his breath, but when he stood up straight, his breath was taken away again.
Mickey and Minnie had both pictured this mystical sight many times in their imaginations, but none of it could compare to the actual, real thing that brushed over their feet. White foam sparkled like diamonds, and the water wasn't just blue, it was green, it was dark, it was light, it was everything at once, a living thing that breathed in and out alongside Mickey's chest. It seemed to stretch on for ages, each ripple different than the last one.
It was beautiful. Everywhere they looked, it was beautiful. These children of the sand found it impossible to look away, to miss a second of this ever-changing landscape that pulled in and out without fail. But Mickey wasn't content to merely look and call it a day. With a gulp of air, he began to walk forward, his sandals squishing in wet sand.
Minnie was jolted out of her gazing. “What are you doing?”
Mickey glanced back at her with a grin. “You're not just going to stand there, are you? C'mon!” He offered her his hand.
Minnie reached out, but stopped, smirking. “Do you know how to swim?” “... No. Do you?”
“Not at all. So I can't save you if you drown.”
“Well then, I won't drown!” Mickey flashed his own toothy grin, swatting the water around him to splash at her.
Minnie shrieked, only out of surprise, not expecting the water to be that chilly. “It's so cold!”
“Now you're just making excuses! I bet you want me to drown so you can kiss me back to life.” He'd been practicing that line in his head for an hour and was very proud of himself for not stuttering once.
Minnie's eyes widened, and it was time for battle. “You – you're awful!” She laughed, and used both of her hands to splash right back.
Mickey yelped – that was cold! “Hey, take it easy! I gotta get used to it first!”
“Oh, you think you can tease me and get away with it, your highness?”
“What happened to saying my name!”
“I'll say whatever I like!”
It was a nonsensical argument that went around in circles, and it was one of the happiest talks they'd ever had, their splashing becoming wilder and more erratic. Pluto was tempted to join them, but decided it was too risky as the carpet might get wet. He was just grateful to be outside, and so used his time to dig up potential holes for potential bones. He figured he was having more fun than those two, who were now chasing each other up and down the shoreline, Mickey trying to scare Minnie with a piece of seaweed and pretending it was an eel, and Minnie retaliating by dropping a gooey mound of wet sand down the back of his shirt. It was a war with no winners, and they wound up soaked from head to toe.
They only stopped their chase when Mickey stubbed his toe on a spiky seashell, which made for a fascinating discovery. It was a completely foreign object to both of them, and they began collecting as many as they could find, comparing shapes and colors and trying to guess how they were formed. One fun time led to another, as Minnie realized that since wet sand stuck together, maybe it could be formed into shapes. At first they tried to create miniature statues, but they fell apart easily, and so the idea of creating buildings came next. Minnie enjoyed decorating them with the shells, while Mickey made up stories of those who lived within.
“The brave soldier has returned home!” Mickey declared as a skittish hermit crab climbed its way into the mouse-made castle. “At long last, he can put down his sword and rest.”
“And tell all his friends about the life he's led,” Minnie offered, digging a small hole in the interior for a makeshift swimming pool. “And stay up all night and day for every story he's got.”
“But he must also stay vigilant! For any moment, one of his former enemies could-” But Mickey's dramatic gestures knocked down one of the columns, interrupting his plot twist. “Whoops.” He quickly tried to build it back up.  “Sheesh, this stuff doesn't stay up for too long.”
Minnie sat down in the sand, curious. “Does your palace look like this?”
“Naw, it's kind of more... square-ish. If it were, my room would be right about... here,” He pointed out, drawing a line on the wall. “And it's got a balcony, where I can see the whole kingdom. And my parent's room would be right over this way, and this there would be Pete's room...” Mickey went on explaining where everything and everyone was, noting where the gardens flourished and how tall the highest tower was, his favorite places to hide when Pete was on the prowl, where the cooks hid their snacks and often shared with their favorite prince, and Mickey's voice grew more and more quiet as he talked. To think that so long ago life in the palace was dreadful, and now he missed it terribly.
Looking back on it now, the servants and the townsfolk never meant any harm when they called him the Son of Scheherazade. They just wanted to show their gratitude for his mother's selflessness and bravery, and since they couldn't constantly go to her and shower her with gifts and praises, he was the next best thing. Would any of that change if they learned what saved them wasn't her mind, but her Eye? Just as importantly, would they listen when Mickey would come home and stand up for himself? He sighed, and then shook his head. Dwelling on it wouldn't help, and this was a prime opportunity to take step two of Donald's plan. “Say, uh, you ever been to a lot of palaces?” Minnie nodded, having waited patiently for Mickey while he thought of his homeland. “I've been in all kinds of homes, from tiny shacks to grand castles... although with my powers, they didn't stay that way for long.” She plucked one shell off from the wall, this one pink and white. “They weren't all bad... One woman wished for flowers to grow every day in her house. Then she would cut them all and give them away as bouquets to her neighbors.” She smiled fondly at the memory, trying not to think of when the neighbors had gotten suspicious and eventually raided the poor woman's home to get their hands on Minnie. “And then there was the time I wound up in the hands of a little boy... he wished everything he touched would turn into candy.” She giggled, recalling how the boy soon had his favorite toys turned into taffy. “He had me undo it in ten minutes!”
Mickey snorted, able to see himself making a very similar wish at that age. “Sounds like you've been all over... and I've never even left my kingdom before. By now, you've probably got way more stories than my Ma. I bet she'll want to hear them all...” He hadn't meant to jump to step three so quickly, but here they were, and he didn't want to waste the chance. He nervously fidgeted with a sand dollar that had once been a door. “My... my folks will probably have a lot of work on their hands when they get home, since they've been gone for so long. And I'll do my best to help 'em out, even if I'm not sure what I can do. What... what do you think you'll do?” he lifted his head. “When this is all over... when you're free... what do you want to do?”
This was a question that used to fill Minnie with dread and keep her up at night. Yet as she hugged her knees, watching the hermit crab inspect his surroundings, she felt tranquil. “It's strange... I've been wanting freedom all my life, but... I'm not sure what I'll do. I'm not even sure what I'm good at, besides granting wishes... but... at the same time...” She smiled, brushing some sand off her arm. “It's kind of exciting, don't you think? Having all the choices but not knowing which ones to start with... I think no matter what I wind up doing or where I wind up going, I'll be happy. Because it'll be my own doing.”
All right, Mickey decided, time to ease into this slowly. Whatever you do, do not just blurt out YOU CAN COME LIVE WITH ME THAT'D BE SWELL. “Well, uh... you could, um, if you wanted...” Mickey's fingers tapped on the sand dollar, the question bouncing up and down in his throat and refusing to enter his mouth. “I know I just said we'd be busy and all, but... it'd be one of those 'we need all the help we can get' situations, right?” He found it difficult to look at her sweet eyes, and the stammering and stuttering increased tenfold. Because, from a certain point of view, this was, kind of, sort of, in a way, like a m-m-marriage proposal... Not that it WAS because it WASN'T and DANG IT DONALD LOOK WHAT YOU DID!!!! “Y-y-y-you, um, that is, i-i-if you like, them, and me, if you liked all of us, together, then, m-m-maybe, possibly, there's room, there's always room, th-th-there's always room...”
Minnie could tell whatever Mickey wanted to say was going to take a while. As awful as it was, a laugh began to rise in her throat. How could she have ever thought the Mickey of the Mirror was the real one? Sillier still, why did she think she wanted him that way? Her lips trembled, and the urge was getting harder to fight. It wasn't her fault Mickey was ridiculously adorable! What would he have thought if he saw that “other” self in her dream? Envious or incredulous? She bit down on her lip, but lost the battle, and she wound up laughing so hard she had to hold her stomach. “I-I'm sorry!”
Mickey blushed deeply, deeply, deeply. “H-Hey! I'm tryin' to say something!”
“I-I know! It's not you, it's just... heehee... I can't explain... teehee... it's too much!”
“You can explain right now!” Mickey tried to grab Minnie, but miscalculated and landed belly-first on the castle. He winced, and then froze, hoping he hadn't squished the hermit crab – nope, it quickly crawled out and headed away from the nonsense. Naturally this made Minnie laugh much harder, and were their positions reversed, Mickey would have been fit to burst as well. “Aw, you're a real riot, Minnie! I could wish the truth right out of you!”
“Instead of wishing you could talk to me without stuttering?” she teased, lightly poking his forehead.
“I don't s-s-stutter... I don't s-s-s.... I D-D-DON'T...” She was going to be the death of him, he was going to be the first person to literally die of embarrassment. “Quit giggling! I wanted to ask you somethin', dang it!”
“I really am sorry.” And Minnie mostly meant it. “It's just... you wouldn't understand, it was the Cave of Wishes, what it made me see...”
Mickey finally began to get up. “What about it? I know exactly what you saw.”
Any remaining laughter died in Minnie's mouth. No he didn't. Surely he didn't. “What... do you mean?”
“I mean, isn't it obvious?” Mickey shrugged his shoulders. “I bet the entire crew knows what happened in your dream.”
What a fine way to turn those positions around – now Minnie was struck with the love arrow of denial. “Uh, no, I'm... very, very sure you all... didn't see anything...” She wasn't that obvious, was she?! Could all of them really guess that she wanted to sit in Mickey's lap while he caressed her with sweet nothings? No way, nooo way – Daisy would have never let it go!
“It's written all over your face,” Mickey went on, mortifying Minnie even more. “What else am I supposed to think?”
All over her face, even right now?! “W-well... I... I am...” Her voice died down, and she looked down at her twiddling thumbs, mumbling shyly. “I am a girl, after all, and...girls like to... hear certain things, sometimes...”
“What's being a girl got to do with it?” Mickey asked, dumbfounded. “I think anyone in your position would want the same thing – your freedom!”
… Well. He wasn't wrong, technically. She made sure to look away, a hard, fake chuckle forcing its way past her lips. “... Y-Yes, of course, that was it... that, and nothing else, absolutely nothing else...” Not Mickey kissing her neck and telling her she was beautiful, ha ha ha haaaaaa.
To Minnie's dismay, Mickey's obviousness wasn't as strong today. “Was there... something else in the dream?” What else could she possibly want? Was it something he could also grant?
It turned out the flight or fight instinct also lived in genies – rather than answer that, Minnie took to her feet and ran. Mickey stared and then chased after her. “HEY! What was in the dream?!”
“NOOOO I'M NEVER TELLING YOUUUU!”
“NOW I JUST WANNA HEAR IT MORE!”
Mickey never did get around to asking the important question, but at least he got step one and two down. Even with the two of them being humiliated in different ways, that was fun in its own frivolous way. Minnie never did tell him what the other part of her dream was, even when Mickey tackled her down and tickled her. She distracted him with the discovery of a sea star, and they spent many minutes mesmerized in feeling its bristles. Mickey recalled a story his mother once told of mermaids, and given her Eye there was a possibility they actually existed, and Minnie responded with stories of past masters, including one who had wished to breathe underwater.
Mickey was learning not to hold a pointy sea urchin in his hand after Minnie spoke of a master who wished to be faster than ten racing camels. “Gee, Minnie... you sure do remember a lot. Do you really remember each and every single one of your masters?”
“I do,” Minnie said with a notch of pride. “It might be part of my magic, but I recall every single day of all my many years. I remember every morning, noon, and night I spent with them, all as if it happened yesterday.”
“Shoot, sometimes I can't remember what I had for breakfast,” Mickey replied, fairly impressed. Such an ability sounded like both a blessing and a curse. He sat down in the sand, letting his feet get wet in the passing tide. He felt his next question was a simple one. “What was your first master like?”
And Minnie...
… couldn't remember.
She knew her earliest master, a dark-skinned gentleman who thought perhaps she was a goddess first, before understanding she was a servant. Yet a part of her knew that this was not the first master. A feeling, a dreadful feeling, a coldness deep in her bones told her not to go any further. “I don't... know...” she said softly, her eyes going over the water's horizon. “My... my first memories, I already knew who I was, and what I could do...” But how does any living creature know such things right away? How does all life come into being? Once more, the Imp's wickedly amused inquiry came to mind.
Do you remember how you were created?
Minnie shut her eyes, her mind flashing with pain. “I don't know!” she suddenly cried out, to the Imp and herself. “I don't know where I came from, or who made me... and every time I try to think about it, I get so scared... It's like... there's another me telling me I shouldn't.” But why? What was so awful about her birth? She wasn't a mortal, but she had understood this, lived with it, what anguished truth was being locked away? Would she ever know?
Mickey's hand clasped hers, warm despite being covered in cold ocean water. “It's okay,” he insisted, trying to put on a brave smile for her. “There are plenty of things I don't know either... and maybe we'll find out. Maybe we won't. That's not so bad.” He scooted in closer, and put an arm around her shoulders. “Whatever happens, we'll face it together. Long as you want me around, I'll be there. Whatever you wanna do once those shackles come off, I'll support it.” Not only because he loved her, not only because he promised her, but because most of all, it was the right thing to do. That, to Mickey, mattered most of all. The right thing should always be done, regardless of how it would affect him and his heart.
If the right thing meant letting Minnie go and never seeing her again... it would hurt. It might be a wound from which he might never recover. Yet he would do it. He heard Minnie whisper quiet words of thanks, her head tucked under his chin. Even with this closeness and tenderness, it was no absolute guarantee she would stay with him. The thought of it almost drove him to tears. When he freed his parents, he could lose her, but she deserved to be free and happy, whether it was with him or not. He had to ask her, even as the question now hurt his soul.
“Minnie... when you're free...” Dang it all, his eyes felt wet. Why hadn't his parents warned him that love could be as painful as it was wonderful? If it came to be that she told him no, and her days on the ship would be their last together, he still wouldn't trade the memories he had of her for anything in the world. Their time had made him a better person, he believed it, and he would treasure every second they spent, even the angry and confusing ones. “After everything is done, and my parents are free... If you want... Will you...”
“WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF!”
Mickey paused, and rushed to wipe away the tears from his eyes. “Pluto, this is NOT a good time to ask for a treat!”
He whipped his body around, but Pluto wasn't interrupting for snack time. As the two mice had been sharing memories and trust, a few ner-do-wells from the docks had spotted Pluto's odd carpet attachment. Fabric like that was rare in this part of the world, and the three beagle-faced bandits had decided to take it for themselves, even if it meant taking the dog along. Mickey had turned just in time to see three grown men lifting Pluto up and away, with Pluto barking frantically for help.
“PLUTO!” Mickey yelped, on his feet in seconds as was Minnie. “Leave my dog alone!”
“Finders keepers, kiddo!” the head beagle snapped, and with his brothers they began to run towards the stairs back to the docks.
“Give him back!” Mickey yelled, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword and running after them, with Minnie in hot pursuit. “Don't you hurt him!” The beagles had a head-start on the hunt, and it didn't help that many busy fishermen had returned and were trying to unload their smelly wares. Mickey and Minnie had to leap over full fish nets, burst past ripped sails, and slip past soggy sailors. With so many obstacles in their way, it was getting difficult to catch up.
“Mickey!” Minnie shouted when it became harder to see the thieves. “Use a wish to stop them!”
“No!” Mickey objected automatically. “We'll find another way!” Think, think, there had to be a better way than to use a wish – they were entering the fisher's market, and there was a fresh crowd that made things all the harder to push through. “Come on...” Mickey's eyes flew around until he saw a lopsided banner advertising the world's mightiest minnows. “I got it!” He ran towards the falling banner and began to use it as a climbing rope, scrambling until he was on the rooftop. “I'll get the drop on 'em!” He backed up, and then sprang forward in a hot run, jumping from that building to the next.
“Mickey!” Minnie shrieked, yelling as loudly as she could to be heard over the crowd. “Stop! It's too dangerous! You'll get yourself killed! Use a wish!”
He didn't need a wish, he was fine! Mickey had trained under Horace and Clarabelle's watchful eye, and his stamina and speed had built up considerably. He would get ahead of the thieves and catch them from above! It would be as easy as -
As slipping on a loose stone and plummeting downward.
Mickey managed to catch himself by the skin of his teeth, or more literally, by clutching onto the decaying store rooftop with his fingers. But this store was in need of many repairs, including a crumbling roof, and Mickey could feel himself starting to slip, his ocean-wet fingers making it harder to stay on. Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't fine.
“MICKEY!” Minnie was now screaming so loudly the entire shopping audience could hear, and now all were staring at the boy who was near death's door. “USE A WISH! Wish for the carpet, wish to fly, wish for the ground to be made of marshmallows, just wish for something!” Pluto, hearing all the distress, could feel the carpet wriggling fiercely under the tied knots, and he clawed desperately to free it if not himself.
“No!” Mickey said again despite all reason, teeth gritted, trying to climb back up but finding it impossible to do so. “I can't! I should only use wishes... for emergencies!”
“WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS?!”
Just because she was right didn't mean he had to concede anything! “I... I can't! I just can't!” His fingers were starting to ache fiercely...
“We've been in so many life-threatening situations before! The Cave, the Imp, and you still wouldn't use a wish! You can't keep doing this! Why am I still a genie if you aren't going to use my powers?!”
“Because... because...” He had his reasons! He needed to be ready for any emergency! He needed to save them for his parents! He didn't want to hurt her! He didn't want to waste an opportunity! But for each and every single reason he could think of, none of them held weight to the awful, real truth that he'd been trying to avoid. “Because I... I don't... I don't want... I don't want to let go!”
But he did. And down he went.
Instead of meeting the harsh, unforgiving ground, he met the soft, rather forgiving carpet. He blinked a few times to make sure this wasn't some sort of dying illusion – a pinch to his cheek proved the truth – and he rolled onto his stomach, staring at the familiar mix of colors. “Huh. Not quite how I wanted to test you out, but thanks!” Maybe it was just the near-death high messing with his eyes, or maybe the carpet's tassels actually gave him a thumbs-up. “Mind helping me down?”
The carpet gently glided downward, with the crowd backing up in surprise and wonder, talking excitedly to each other about the miracle they just witnessed. Once he was close enough, Mickey hopped off the carpet, and gave it an appreciate pet like he would've Pluto. “See, Minnie? It all worked out, everything is-”
A hard slap to his left cheek proved that, no, things were not whatever he'd been about to say.
Mickey slowly turned his head, touching his hurt cheek, to see Minnie trembling with anger, her hand still in the air. Her teeth were tight together, a sign that she was pushing back the urge to cry. Mickey gulped, sure he was in trouble but not quite sure why. At least, Mickey thought, things can't get any wor-NO, NO, NEVER THINK THAT, NEVER THINK THAT -
Too late. It had been thought, and just to prove him wrong, the man who'd they soon learn was the ringleader of the thieves stepped from the crowd, an all too familiar face. “Look who's come crawling back to the most magnificent man in the world!”
Mickey's stomach and jaw dropped together. “... Mortimer?”
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