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brockadoodles · 4 years ago

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Snow doesn’t fall in scottsdale - a. matthews

AN: Uhh just ignore the text in the gif since it’s obviously not relevant to the story. (even though Ema is the best) But here’s what might be the last Christmas fic in my eight weeks of Christmas series. I’ve been finding myself inspired for other stuff, and there’s so much wonderful Christmas content out there that I’m sure you don’t need 47837584 more from me. So enjoy this one, a nice anon requested more Auston content, so that’s why I wrote it. But, I really liked it and hope you do too.

This is also for @broadstbroskis who I love to send things at absolutely inappropriate times for her so, I hope this hits you at a bad time ;)

Word Count: 4628

Warnings: None, it’s floofy.

Auston felt himself sigh as he looked at you. You were sitting out on the roof and holding an old mug of tea. He noticed the way you held the mug close to your chest and looked out at the skyline. The sun was just beginning to set, the deep orange and purple hues and the hot dry air were some of his favorite things about where he was from and lived during the offseason. But as he carefully looked at the somber expression coming from his limited view of your face, he could tell that you missed Toronto.

You were the type of person who had a firm belief that Christmas wasn’t really Christmas without the snow, and Scottsdale, Arizona might have felt cold at 20 degrees celsius to those that lived there, but to you all it was, was a dry desert with fake Christmas trees and a painful lack of snow covering the ground. Your favorite memories included carrying a small sled down the street while holding your mom’s hand, or sitting on your dad’s shoulders at the Christmas market every year, snow piling onto your beanie as you stuck your tongue out hoping to catch flakes. Those were your favorite memories of the holiday and even if the view was stunning, the palm trees simply didn’t hold a match to the thick, evergreens covered in snow. But you were thankful to have Auston, and his family, who had been nothing but accommodating to you. So you kept your homesickness away from them, plastering on a smile that faded as soon as you came out to the roof to take a moment to yourself.

You didn’t want to complain, because you were genuinely grateful that Auston had invited you to spend the holiday with him. Before you could contemplate the weight of the question, or think about how spending Christmas with your friend who always felt like something more would only entangle your heart further into the mess of feelings that it was already nestled in, you said yes. The decision didn’t phase you until you were waiting for a flight, your thigh brushing his and his head resting on your shoulder, that maybe this was only going to end up hurting you in the long run because of your own harbored feelings for one of your closest friends.

You’d liked Auston for almost as long as you’ve known him, having met in a chance run in when he bumped into you on a night out with your friends, spilling your drink all down your dress. He offered you a new one, and soon you found yourself tumbling into a dangerous friendship with him that your heart always wanted to pull more out of. It was a bad idea, going home with him. It was something that was debatably far too intimate for two people who were supposed to be just friends. But you didn’t know that Auston harbored feelings of his own, and you didn’t know just how much he’d do to make your Christmas special.

Auston watched carefully as you set the mug down and snapped a picture, one that would later end up on Instagram for the world to see, captioned “there’s no snow but the view is great.” You flipped your phone back over, presumably hiding any potential interruptions from your time up on the roof. He took your pause as his moment to make his presence known, and he carefully opened the tall glass sliding door and stepped out onto the roof. You looked over at him before curling your feet underneath your legs to make space for him to sit.

“Are you okay?” He tentatively asked. You simply nodded and leaned your head on his shoulder, causing him to instinctively pull you closer into his body. It was almost terrifying how well he knew your mannerisms, each breath you took or movement gave away everything about how you were feeling. It scared him how well he could read you, but he paid attention because he cared. Auston knew this was about Christmas, and while didn’t know how to pull any of it off, he'd drive to Colorado and back if it meant bringing you a dusting of snow to the desert in December.

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The following afternoon, your mood had improved and the melancholic moment shared between you was nearly forgotten as you sat across from him at the small coffee shop. Auston had this ability to know your every emotion. He knew when you wanted to talk about what was bothering you and when you didn’t, and you appreciated that when you woke up the next day, he offered nothing other than a soft smile and asked if you’d like to check out this new small coffee place with him.

“I can’t believe you managed to get this much time off this season, normally you don’t even go home.” You hummed as you sipped on your drink. Auston held the door open for you as you walked out, the heat hitting your skin almost instantly as the loss of air conditioning from the shop became more apparent.

“I know, but it’s good.” He shrugged, offering no indication that there was any deeper meaning to that statement as he followed you out of the shop. The truth was that the extra time was much needed, as it gave him the perfect opportunity for an impulsive trip out of town that just might lift the mood you were so desperately trying to conceal.

You handed Auston your iced coffee for a moment so that you could toss up your hair. The sun was starting to beat down, heating up your skin and causing a light sweat.

“It’s too hot, how can you even be wearing that?” You gestured to his outfit, which in contrast to some of the clothes he normally wore, was relatively relaxed and normal. He was wearing black joggers and a dark t-shirt, with a light flannel on top. You were sweating just looking at it in comparison to the oversized Nike t-shirt you had stolen from him that morning, and your soft shorts. You couldn’t deny that it looked good on him though, and if it wasn’t so hot and you lived in a reality where you could act on your feelings, you wouldn’t mind tucking yourself right into his chest.

“Ah well, that’s because we’re not staying here.” He shrugged, shaking you out of your daydream and tugging you back toward his car. He laced his fingers in yours and it sent fluttering right to your chest. The simple display of affection was something that you were likely reading entirely too much into. But you didn’t care, because your brain was communicating chemicals of fondness that were being sent straight to your heart with the simple gesture, and you were going to let yourself enjoy it even if it ultimately didn’t actually mean anything substantial.

“What? Where are we going?” You asked. Auston just smiled nervously at you as he unlocked the car. He untangled his fingers from yours and walked to the driver’s side door, a sensation that you subtly frowned at.

“Uh, well I hope you don’t mind but…” His voice was muffled as he got into the driver's seat.

“But what, Auston?” You pressed.

“We may be going on a road trip.” He bit his lip slightly as your eyes went wide. He knew this was spontaneous, and maybe too much. But all he wanted was to see a smile on your face and if he had to spend all night looking up weather reports and finding a town that had a substantial amount of snow and drive you there, that was a task he was more than willing to do.

“To where? And why?” You laughed. Auston smirked at you as he started the car.

“This small town in the mountains in Colorado. We have a cabin, we’re bringing Felix, and there’s a ton of snow right now.” He smiled at you, watching out of the corner of his eye to see your reaction as you took in what he was saying. Your eyes widened and your heart rate quickened. You reached over the center console and grabbed his hand and slid your fingers through his once more.

“Thank you.” You whispered, hoping that the simple words could accurately depict just how appreciative you were of him. He pulled your hand up to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to the back of it and smiling at you once again. The adoration in his eyes was more than what a friend should show, but this entire trip was more than friendly, and you didn’t really care that you were setting your heart up for the inevitable disappointment you might face by the end of it, because you at least somewhat had Auston. He may have not been your boyfriend, you couldn’t kiss him whenever you wanted, or hold him beyond small gestures but he cared about you, probably more than he cared about most of his friends, and that was enough. So you packed a bag, loaded Felix into the car, and drove just over eight hours with him to spend a few days in the snow before Christmas.

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The first night you got there, the two of you were exhausted. You were so tired that you couldn’t even register the lines you were crossing as you climbed into bed next to him, Felix tucked securely under your feet. You were so tired that you didn’t question it when his arm came around your waist and slid just underneath the waist of the sweatshirt you were wearing. He was warm, and you felt safe, so you let yourself drift off to sleep without thinking of the emotional consequences of the romanticization of all of this.

The second night, Auston had insisted on another surprise for you. One that he was tight lipped about, but swore that you would love. All he told you was that you needed to dress warm and be ready to walk around. So, you threw on more layers than was probably necessary and let him lead you into town.

You grabbed onto his arm to not lose him. The crowd was larger than you’d expect for the small mountain town he had brought you to. Auston just pulled you in closer, wrapping an arm around you to tuck you safe and secure into his side. It was another simple gesture, adding to the annoying list in the back of your mind of things that Auston Matthews could do that caused a flutter in your stomach and slight heartache in your chest. But it was cold, and the gesture was one that made you feel calm and content as he led you further into the town.

The small town was quant, and reminded you of some picturesque stereotypical German town that went all out for the holidays. The Bavarian style cottages and buildings were all decorated with lights, and the snow on the roofs was a sight that made you smile even more as you kept walking. You were about to ask Auston where you were headed when suddenly the lights came into view. Your eyes went wide as you looked at the giant tree in the center of the town square, it was lit up with white lights and shiny, multicolored ornaments. Snow was settled into the branches and littered on the ground. You nearly cried when you realized where he had brought you.

“I can’t make it snow in Arizona, I can’t replicate the tree, but I found this place and thought it was pretty close.” He looked down as you with a subtle smile on his lips. You reached a hand up to his cheek, running your thumb along the stubble from where his beard was growing in, feeling his cheeks shift into a larger smile. He wrapped an arm further around your waist and pulled you into his chest. Auston looked at you like you were his entire world and his heart lurched in his chest at yet another grip you were securing on it. He wanted to lean down and kiss you. He wanted to walk through the door to your soul that he had been waiting behind for so long because for the first time, standing there with your hand on his cheek and you looking at him the way that you were, it felt like it was finally opening for him.

But the moment was fleeting and as your eyes scattered away from his and you stepped back, his heart dropped. Because in that moment he could almost see the intricate parts of your mind racing, probably regretting getting so close to him in the first place. He didn’t get to kiss you that night, but as you threw on his sweatshirt and crawled into bed next to him, letting your head fall onto his chest, he let himself wander back to the idea of your feelings being reciprocated. It was that feeling that left him softly smiling as he fell asleep.

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“I have one last surprise for this trip.” Auston came out into the kitchen. He stood behind you and reached an arm around to grab a mug, resting his other hand on your waist as he did so. You were growing almost too accustomed to the subtle touches shared on this trip, to falling asleep in his arms. You were in your own almost blissful world, and there was a part of you that had been thinking about taking the leap and kissing him. Because in this blissful world, reality didn’t exist. You weren’t going back to Arizona tomorrow, and you weren’t ultimately going back to Toronto to your separate apartments. In this reality, you could stay with Auston forever, without the pressures of everything that real life brought both of you.

“Do enlighten me on the latest Auston Matthews surprise experience, because I must say that I am enjoying it.” You teased, passing him the coffee pot that was in front of you. You spun around to face him and his smile grew. There was a soft glow to his smile and his eyes that had your heart racing even faster than it already was previously, and you bit your lip as you waited for a response.

“We’re going skating.” He grinned, a satisfactory laugh coming from him as he watched your eyes go wide and mouth hang open just slightly. You had only skated once in your life, and it was when you were seven. Your older brother had shoved you onto the ice and you tumbled, breaking your arm in the process. Ever since then, skating was the one fear you had, which was slightly ironic considering the person you were essentially in love with did it for a living.

“Auston… you know I don’t know how to skate.” You glanced over at him, his hand reassuringly came to rest on your hip, a soft squeeze that sent shivers running through your body at the contact. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and you nearly fell over. The line that the two of you were balancing on felt like it had been crossed with the intimacy of the kiss. It was a simple, quick, but tender kiss to the forehead, and it was rushing into your heart, causing it to react and demand more from him.

“Time to learn, babe.” He patted your hip and walked out of the kitchen. The disconnect from his body no longer pressed almost against yours was almost excruciating. You stood there in the kitchen for what felt like hours just replaying the moment in your mind. You were so focussed on how badly you wanted him that you didn’t even register the fear that you normally felt when it came to the idea of skating.

Later that afternoon, after resolving yourself to the fact that you were definitely not getting out of this surprise, and realizing that he even bought new skates for you, Auston led you through a snow-covered pathway on your way to the frozen lake. The walk was quiet, the only sounds coming from your feet crunching in the snow. As you got closer and the lake came into view, you were regretting leaving Felix at the cabin because he could have been a great excuse to use to get out of this.

Auston spotted a small bench and instructed you to sit down on it. He sat down beside you and lifted a leg into your lap, sliding the skate on and beginning to tie it securely for you. You watched as his hands moved, tightening the laces. When he was done with both skates, his hand slid up your shin, a soft reassuring smile on his face as he tapped your leg indicating that you needed to move so he could put on his own skates. You were starting to get more and more nervous as he finished lacing his up and grabbed your hands, helping you stand on the edge of the lake. Auston took a few steps backwards, guiding you to the very edge of the frozen lake. Your stomach dropped when he stepped out, the sound of skates hitting the ice shocking you back into the reality of what you were doing.

“No railing baby, you’ve got to hold onto me or accept that you might fall.” Auston teased as you stood at the edge of the lake. This felt like a disaster waiting to happen, a tragic ending to what would have been the cute cheesy skating scene in one of those terrible lifetime Christmas movies. You felt slightly ridiculous out there, but Auston didn’t see it that way. He saw this as another opportunity to help you have the best possible Christmas even if you were away from your family.

“You know.. what if I just sit here and watch you?” You offered, biting your lip as he skated to the edge of the lake. He positioned himself right in front of you and took your gloves hands in his, guiding you slowly onto the ice.

“I’ve got you, I won’t let you fall, okay?” He reassured you. If only he knew that falling on the ice was the least of your concerns when it came to the meaning of that word. Auston reached for your hand, silently lacing his fingers with yours as he guided you into taking your first step. You crashed into him, hands flailing into his chest as he laughed softly at you.

“It’s not funny!” You whined, grasping onto him as tightly as you could. Auston didn’t mind the contact, he wanted to be with you all the time, his heart carefully locked in your possession to keep, whether you knew it or not. If anyone told him that he’d have gone through all of this for a person who he wasn’t even dating, he would have laughed in their face. But you were different, and no matter how hard he tried to pretend you were just a friend, he knew he was potentially setting himself up for a shattered soul if you didn’t feel the same way that he did.

You let Auston guide you around the ice, his hands secure on your body to prevent you from falling. When he guided you off the ice, you sat straight down onto the same bench you had previously. Auston leaned in front of you, grabbing the back of the bench with his hands on either side of you. For a moment you let your mind drift, thinking about what it would be like to reach out and grab the strings tauntingly hanging from his sweatshirt and pulling him into you from where he was standing. You thought about how you could press your lips softly to his, reaching your hand through his hair to pull him closer into you. You felt your stomach in knots as you thought about kissing him, something you’d been wanting to do for a while, but never had the courage to, and it wasn’t until he waved a hand in front of your face that you realized you weren’t kissing him, it was just an image projected from your imagination as you sat there, wishing your feelings away so that you wouldn’t constantly be rejected in your own head.

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The two of you set off on the drive back to Scottsdale the next day, leaving behind the bliss of being unplugged and away from everyone for just a few days. The whole experience almost felt like a melatonin induced dream, the last three days spent with him. But as you settled back into the guest room in his Arizona house on Christmas Eve, your bed felt cold and empty without him.

Christmas day had come and was nearly over, and you smiled more than you thought that you would. It was weird how the short trip had changed your perspective over the whole holiday. You weren’t nearly as homesick as you had been. You were genuinely enjoying yourself, and felt like you belonged right where you were as you helped Ema in the kitchen with Christmas dinner. You felt a sense of ease finally about Auston, clarity slowly drifting from your heart to your brain about how you felt about him.

You had excused yourself after dinner to go up to the roof once more, just taking some time to let all of your feelings settle. The reality of going back to Toronto was starting to creep back in. Soon you would be home and back in the routine of the second half of the hockey season. Auston would go back to being gone all of the time, and you would go back to work, the fleeting feelings you were experiencing would pass, and you’d get back to the place that you had been before where you were content with him just being your friend.

Auston however, had different hopes for the last few hours of this short escape from Toronto. He loved his job, he loved his teammates and the city, but he’d be lying to everyone and himself if he didn’t admit that you were one of his favorite parts of the whole thing. He lit up whenever he’d see you in the crowd, the same old Maple Leafs beanie you had since your high school days adorned on your head. You fit seamlessly into his life in every single way except for the most important one, and he had enough of it. This week spent with you had shown him that he needed to be honest. He needed to release his heart from the weight of his own growing feelings for you, and there were moments where he truly thought that you were going to catch it. He needed to take the chance, he might explode if he didn’t.

The gift was entirely too much, it was too sentimental, too heartfelt, too every other adjective in the dictionary for the word much, and Auston knew that. He knew that this gift sealed any chance at keeping his feelings opaque, the transparency of the glass felt like a metaphor for a window into his own heart. But he didn’t care. He didn’t care that it was too much, all he wanted was for the horribly wrapped confession to somehow be enough for you. Auston took a deep breath as he held the box, the one that Bre had helped him wrap just the night previously. You were up on the roof, sitting peacefully as you watched the sunset over the skyline. The palm trees and dry terrain are vastly different than what you were used to in December. It was almost like you had a sixth sense he was behind you because he swore he felt his heart drop into his stomach when you turned your head just enough, showing a warm and soft smile as he tentatively stepped toward you.

You were in one of his sweatshirts and your hair was up, a look that in all your years of knowing each other he never got tired of. You were everything to him, and he had been so sure about how he felt about you right from the beginning. But, you weren’t ready. At the time you had just had a bad breakup, your heart was tucked in a locked box in your chest, no hope of it being unlocked by anyone else for a long time. But, a long time had been coming, and now that you were here, in Arizona, in his sweatshirt, smiling at him, he could only hope that you would at least consider giving your heart to him.

Auston stepped out onto the roof again, a familiar feeling settling into his chest from just a few days prior. You lifted your eyes up to meet his, this time a genuine smile adorning your lips as the moon and small patio light lit up your face. He sat down next to you once again, handing you the small, wrapped gift that he had been holding.

“I have one last surprise for you.” He quietly spoke.

You took the box in your hands and you slowly unwrapped the gift. You set the paper down under your thigh and pulled out the small snow globe, letting it feel heavy in your hands. Your fingers traced over the details, the fetched mountains in the glass and the hint of green pointing through the white snow. It was a simple gift, something plucked straight out of a bad holiday movie, but you didn’t care because it came from him, and the thought behind it was better than any tangible gift he could have bought for you.

“Turns out, snow is very hard to come by around here.” He smiled down at you. You looked at Auston with a new perspective filling your mind, you noticed all of the things about him that you were blissfully ignoring before for the sake of guarding your own heart and hiding your own feelings. You knew his eyes softened when he looked at you, you just chose not to see it until now.

“Auston-“ you started, but his eyes shifted as he spoke. His entire speech was tossed off the side of the roof, he was going with his gut here. He was going to tell you how he felt, because he simply couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“This is probably the worst time for this. And you deserve better than some shitty rooftop confession on Christmas. But, I like you. I like you so much, I have probably since shortly after we met, and I know I didn’t make snow fall like I promised, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. How badly I want to kiss you, how badly I want to just say that I love you all the time.”

“Auston, you talk too much.” You smiled at him. Everything felt warm, and it wasn’t just because of the slight heat in the air, or his body closely hovering above yours. You were warm because you loved him, a concept that you weren’t expecting yet somehow ended up prepared for.

“Well, I’ll shut up and kiss you, then.” He teased, smiling into a soft kiss. Your hand tangled in his hair, and your eyes fluttered closed as you melted into him.

“Oh, and I love you too.” You smiled as you leaned in to kiss him once more. Sure it wasn’t Toronto. It wasn’t that blissful three days in the mountains. There weren’t lights or trees or snow or anything that you’d traditionally associate with December 25th, but you had Auston in exactly the way that you had wanted him for a long time, and somehow that was better than all of it combined.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #8 weeks of christmas #hockey imagine #hockey fic #auston matthews x reader

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digitalstowaway · 3 years ago

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No Winners: Chapter Three (Mia & Miles AU)

Read on AO3 | After failing to win a guilty verdict at his first trial, Edgeworth is denounced as von Karma's protege. Mia finds him, alone and traumatized, and decides that befriending him is like picking up a lost, wounded puppy on the side of the road. But it turns out they're connected in more ways than Terry Fawles' death.

It was Friday afternoon by the time Lana knocked on Miles’ front door, holding a thermos of soup and smiling.

Miles stood in his doorway, squinting at her. He wore his pajamas still—a comfortable set of flannel bottoms and a large t-shirt that hung off of his scrawny frame—and his hair was ruffled and messy. Lana could see how it stuck up in the back while the fringe had become frizzy and laid flat against his face.

“I thought I’d check up on you,” Lana said. “And bring you soup.”

“That was… thoughtful.” His voice was hoarse, and it sounded like he strained to get the few words out.

He would have looked adorable if there wasn’t a worrying flush to his face and glassiness over his eyes. But he did look younger than Lana had ever seen him. And smaller. If Lana didn’t know any better, she would have assumed he was a teenager taking a day off school.

She just had to take care of him. She couldn’t leave a sick child home alone.

“Mind if I come in?”

Without waiting for an answer, Lana pushed past him and was walking into the house. His home was cute but definitely belonged to a 20-year-old boy. There was hardly any decor, and all of the curtains were drawn shut—though, the latter could have been due to the poor thing looking like he had just crawled out of bed—leaving the rooms to be dark and stuffy. The kitchen was bare, most notably. The only items on the countertops were an electric kettle and decorative containers that Lana suspected held nothing in them.

“May I ask what you’re doing?” Miles asked, standing behind her as she unscrewed the top of the thermos.

“If you don’t eat the soup now, it’ll get cold.”

If I don’t watch you eat right now, I don’t think you’ll eat at all.

“I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter if you’re capable of it or not, it’s just nice to have someone with you.”

She began rifling through his cabinets. She was happy to see full sets of plates and bowls and cups. She wasn’t very happy to see, though, the lack of food on his shelves.

She motioned for him to sit at his island. He did, looking like he was obeying the command of a superior.

“I can make you tea as well,” Lana said, pouring out the soup in front of him.

“Are you always in the habit of inviting yourself into people’s homes and invading their kitchens?”

“I’ve been known to do so on occasion. But usually, people are more accepting of it than you because I’m also known to be a good cook.”

Miles looked down at his soup. He stirred it, mixing up the vegetables and noodles in a whirlpool, and then set his spoon down.

He was tucked into himself, arms discreetly wrapped around his middle. Lana recognized the position as someone who couldn’t stomach the thought of food.

And all of her forged maternal instincts that came from taking care of Ema rushed forward. Really, a 12-year-old girl and Miles Edgeworth couldn’t be too different to look after.

Lana pressed her hand to his forehead. He allowed it, closing his eyes.

“You’re really warm,” she sighed. “Do you have a thermometer?”

Miles shook his head. Lana tutted.

“Do you have cold medicine? Or any medicine?”

“I have aspirin.”

He was barely old enough to take aspirin. Lana prided herself on her knowledge of over-the-counter meds, and she clearly remembered the warning label on the back of the aspirin bottles to not give any to a person under 20. And god, the kid was just old enough to take such a simple drug? He was just entering the final stages of his coming of age?

Lana had had a thought or two upon first meeting Miles that he was truly too young to be in a prosecutor’s office. Not for the uptight, snooty reasons her colleagues had. But because she couldn’t bear to think of the toll it would take on someone so young—so bent on perfection.

“Do you have anything else?” she asked.

Miles shook his head. His eyebrows raised as if he was in trouble and scared of being scolded. It was always the subtle things that made Lana worry.

“Well, lucky for you, I carry everything in my purse.”

As she dug through her purse for her trusty bottle of acetaminophen, he coughed harshly into his elbow. It sounded worse than the night before. Like his lungs were trying to come up his throat. He winced and grimaced and struggled to breathe through it. Lana forgot about the pills and pulled out her phone.

“I’m going to have Mia pick up a few things for you,” she said.

“No—”

“Miles, you’re not going to get better like this. I’ll have her drop off something for your cough and a thermometer at some point today, okay?”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to make sure you finish your soup.”

—

By the time Mia arrived with a little bag from the pharmacy, Lana was waiting in the doorway with her phone in hand. She tried to smile when Mia met her, but she looked tired and worried.

“Is he okay?” Mia asked.

She tried not to care. People got the flu. People lived through the flu. Miles was going to be fine in a week.

“He’s in rough shape,” Lana said with a shrug. “I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

Mia passed her the bag with the highly specific requested items inside. Two types of cough syrup—antitussives and expectorants. Whatever those were. Lana had said a balance of both was necessary. A bottle of acetaminophen and another of ibuprofen. There was something about alternating between the two that wasn’t explained well over text. And cough drops (of which Mia had bought three kinds), acetaminophen, ibuprofen, and a thermometer. Any thermometer, Lana told Mia.

The shopping list had been followed by a notification that Lana had sent Mia more than enough money to cover it all. There was a note in the money-sharing app that said and buy yourself something nice ;) xo Lana

It had been a nice break from her anxiety-ridden text messages. Mia had bought herself a pack of gum and two lollipops.

“That’s for you,” Mia said when Lana pulled out the second lollipop.

“How sweet,” Lana said.

“Can I see him? I want to look at the scary prodigy all sick.”

“Yeah, but be quiet. He just fell asleep.” Lana led her in. “Why do you want to see him like this?”

“Blackmail. In case he ever tries pulling something, I’ll have a picture of him all snotty and gross.”

“Mia, don’t take a picture of him.”

“Why not?”

“It’s mean. And isn’t your whole thing being anti-blackmail?”

This was different. There would be no one to truly show the picture to. And Miles would catch on to that. The threat would be superficial and empty.

The living room was dark and quiet, and Mia nearly missed Miles on the couch. He was curled up under a blanket, blending into the upholstery. But looking closer, Mia could see how pale his face was and the light layer of sweat covering his forehead.

Lana unpacked the pharmacy bag on the coffee table, careful to not make a sound to disturb Miles. But he woke himself up anyway, his uneasy breathing turning into a coughing fit. A hand emerged from the blanket, and a crumpled tissue in his fist was pressed to his mouth. His cough sounded awful. Mia nearly gagged in sympathy when she heard something deep in his lungs get stirred up.

“Miles, Mia brought you some stuff,” Lana said. “Can you take your temperature real quick?”

She assembled the thermometer. Mia had picked one up with multiple tips in hopes that the fancier it looked, the better it would work.

Lana handed the thermometer over, and Miles laid it under his tongue. Mia was surprised by the lack of fuss he made, and he did close his eyes immediately and seemed close to sleep by the time the thermometer beeped.

Lana slid it out of his mouth for him as a mother would.

“103.5,” she read.

Mia grimaced. That wasn’t good at all.

Miles’ eyes opened, but they didn’t react to what Lana had said. Instead, they fell on Mia with a glare nastier than what he usually served.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I delivered you half of a pharmacy,” Mia said, gesturing to the table. “Be grateful.”

Lana interrupted them. “Miles, if your fever gets much higher, I think I’m going to take you to a hospital.”

And the glare towards Mia immediately changed to a scared look to Lana. He shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he said.

“But if you get any worse, I think you’ll need help and there’s no clinics open at this hour. It doesn’t sound like you’re breathing very well, either.”

It didn’t. Every other intake of breath was raspy.

Miles shook his head again. Lana sat next to him on the couch and brushed his hair back from his face. It was absolutely out of character to allow himself to be coddled in such a way.

How childish he looked, Mia thought. He certainly always carried the air of a brat, but he had never looked so small. So helpless. So in need of a person like Lana Skye.

“Only if you get worse, okay?” Lana said. “And Mia brought you a lot of medicine, so hopefully you start feeling better by tonight.”

But Miles still looked scared, and Mia wondered what his damage was with hospitals. Not that anyone particularly liked having to go into hospitals. They were genuinely acknowledged as places no one ever wanted to be.

“Let’s try to get this cough under control first,” Lana said and reached for one of the bottles of cough syrup.

Hours passed, and Mia stayed. She felt bad about leaving Lana alone with the possibility of Miles needing to be taken to a hospital hanging in the air.

It was also nice to see Lana mother Miles, waking him so often to take a different pill or to press the thermometer into his mouth one more time. When she wasn’t doting on the prosecutor, they snuck into the kitchen to talk like children.

“He really needs a doctor,” Lana said. “But it’ll be best if I can get him to a clinic tomorrow instead of putting him through the emergency room tonight.”

“You’d go with him?”

“Do you think he could drive himself?”

Mia rocked against the countertop. “No.”

“Then, I’d have to go with him. Or someone would have to go with him, and I don’t really see anyone else lining up to escort him.”

Lana picked up her phone and, looking over her shoulder, Mia could see her texting Ema and then Damon Gant. One a reassuring conversation and the other a semi-desperate beg to ask anyone at all if they could do her a favor.

“You know,” Mia said, “if someone needs to watch Ema tonight, I can do it.”

Lana looked up, perhaps embarrassed that she had been caught in such weakness. “Would you?”

“Unless you need someone to wrangle Miles to the hospital.”

Lana smiled. “We’ll see which child needs the most supervision. But if I did ask you to watch Ema tonight, you wouldn’t mind?”

“Of course not. I have nothing better to do.”

“And if I asked you to help me get Miles to a hospital?”

Mia tilted her head back. She had little reason to say no. “Sure.”

—

As the sun was finally setting, coughing turned to choking.

Miles struggled to pull himself up. He rested on his elbows, his head bowed, coughing too hard to take in any fulfilling breaths.

Lana tugged him up so that he was sitting against her. His shoulders heaved and with his coughs, small strings of bile spilled from his mouth.

“Can you get towels please?” Lana asked Mia.

Mia ran down the halls until she found a closet and stacks of towels. It was an unnecessarily large house for one kid. Mia had a one-bedroom apartment with barely enough room to accommodate Maya when she visited. And there was Miles living in a house with, if Mia counted right as she passed them, two bathrooms and a bedroom on the first floor alone.

But she couldn’t be mad at him if his sleazy mentor gave him the money to buy the house. If anything, it was good for Miles to keep whatever that man had already given him.

Mia grabbed all the hand towels and wash clothes she could, wetting a few down, and ran back to the sitting room where Lana was trying to keep Miles up.

“It’s okay,” she was repeating, and Mia could hear Miles mumbling apologies as she handed over the towels.

Lana got to work cleaning up his face and then his clothes. Miles’ thin hands were limp on his lap, only being moved by Lana to scrub at the bile that hand landed on his sweatpants.

“Do you want to change?” Lana asked.

Miles shook his head. He was usually so pristine, Mia was surprised he didn’t want a fresh pair of clothes.

“Okay. We can lay back down for now.” Lana helped him shuffle around until he was lying back down.

She covered him with his blanket again and left one of the damp cloths over his forehead. Mia stood awkwardly off to the side.

“It’s getting kinda late,” Lana said.

“If you want me to watch Ema now, I can,” she said.

“I don’t know. I think I should really get Miles to a hospital, but I think it’ll take at least the two of us to get him anywhere.”

“Is there anyone else who can watch Ema?”

Lana didn’t say anything. Mia didn’t know many people who could really be left alone with a child. Not any that could be called at the last minute.

“What about Diego?” she asked.

“Ema’s never met Diego before. I’ve barely met Diego.”

“Yeah, but he’d probably be willing to stay with her for the night. He mentioned to me once that he likes kids.”

“Miles is a kid, and he doesn’t seem to like him.”

“Miles is 20.”

“I’m 20,” Miles agreed sleepily.

“And Ema isn’t Miles,” Mia said. “She’s… less difficult.”

“Okay,” Lana said. “If he doesn’t mind, tell him I can give him our house key if he meets us here and helps us get Miles into my car.”

Mia didn’t hesitate to grab her phone and begin texting Diego, her newest message harshly juxtaposing her previous, half-flirty ones. Miles whined next to her, telling Lana that he would be okay. That he didn’t need to go anywhere. And Lana gently cooed to him that it would be alright. He needed more help than she could give him, and she and Mia would stay with him.

Mia didn’t remember when she volunteered to stay with Miles in the hospital. She thought that she would be there long enough to get him inside and moved on from the waiting room before going back to her own apartment. She watched Miles cough into his pillow and Lana brush his damp hair back from his forehead and knew that she was well past the point of any further negotiations.

#mia & miles au #ace attorney #miles edgeworth #mia fey #lana skye #my fics #no winners #finally chapter three!!!

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hockeyisit · 3 years ago

Text

First Night

Summary: Auston and Amelia spend their first night with the twins at home.

A.N. See the end for note!

Unedited

Word Count: 3,118

Masterlist

I let out a loud groan as I pulled the baby monitor closer to me trying to muffle it. Auston and I had gotten home from the hospital early in the morning and the babies had woken up every two hours like clock work. It was now approaching two AM and they were crying again.

“I can get them,” Auston mumbled into the pillow.

“No,” I mumbled, reaching out to put my hand on his chest to stop him from getting up.

“You need to sleep, you have a game tomorrow,” I reminded him as I pushed myself into a sitting position. I lowered the volume on the baby monitor and then made my way out of the room to go check on Noah and Kai.

“Shh hi babies,” I cooed as I walked into the room. Auston and I had placed them in the same crib so I made my way over and reached in to pull out Kai who seemed to be crying louder.

“I know, baby. I know,” I reassured as I rubbed my hand up and down his back in a comforting manner. His cries didn’t quiet down at all which was just causing Noah to let out louder cries of his own. I let out a whine of my own as I rocked the two of us back and forth hoping it would help quiet him down. After another two minutes of pacing I let out a soft cry of frustration.

“What’s wrong baby?” I asked tiredly over the screaming. I jumped letting out a loud gasp as I felt a hand slide onto my back.

“Auston! You scared me,” I told him as I reached out to slap his arm. He moved quick to avoid the slap. He reached into the crib and pulled out Noah who was now crying as loudly as Kai.

“Hey buddy,” Auston cooed at Noah who immediately started to quiet down in his arms. I sighed dramatically as I stared at the two, Kai still screaming in my ear. I walked over to the rocking chair and sat down pulling my shirt up so that I could try to feed him.

Kai started feeding immediately leaving the four of us in a welcomed silence. I leaned my head back against the couch as I waited for him to finish. Auston walked over to us and rested his hand on my shoulder as he looked down at the two of us.

“You didn’t have to get up,” I mumbled as I peaked my eyes open. He gave me a disbelieving look as he kneeled down

“Babe we're in this together,” he glanced back at Noah when he made a tiny cry.

“I am going to help you when they get up, this is a two person job. I want to help. Also I think he might be hungry as well,” Auston whispered.

“Alright take Kai,” I mumbled, we switched babies and Noah immediately started feeding.

“You should go get some more sleep Aus,” I whispered. He shook his head gently as he burped Kai.

“When you do,” he mumbled quietly. We sat in silence for a few moments as we waited for Noah to finish eating, both too exhausted to really start up a conversation. When he finished I burped him and then went to set him in the crib. As soon as I had him laying down he started crying again causing me to let out a soft sigh as I picked him back up.

“Auston just give me Kai and go get some sleep. I don’t want you to be tired for your game,” I told him seriously as I held out my other arm. He glanced at Kai again before finally nodding his head.

“If you need anything and I mean anything say it into the baby monitor,” he leaned down and pressed a long and gentle kiss to my forehead before heading back to our room to get some more sleep. Once Auston left the twins fussed for another thirty minutes before I was finally able to get them back asleep by two forty-five.

“Huh,” Auston grumbled into his pillow as I slid into bed next to him. He was laying on his stomach with his hands shoved under his pillow.

“Shh. Go back to bed,” I whispered as I rubbed his back softly.

“They sleeping?” he mumbled as he shifted so that he was laying on his back. I cuddled up to him and wrapped my leg around him and laid my hand on his chest.

“Yeah,” I said as I took a deep breath. He wrapped his arm around me and we were both passed out within a few minutes.

----

“No,” Amelia groaned out. I reached over her body so that I could grab the baby monitor.

“We got this,” I told her as I stood up. She let out a soft sigh as she nodded her head and pulled the blanket off.

We made our way into the nursery and over to the crib. I reached in to grab Kai since he was crying harder and Amelia grabbed Noah. I immediately wrinkled my nose at the smell.

“Oh my god dude you reek,” I exclaimed as I held him further away from my shirtless chest. I walked over to the changing table and set him down before I started to undress him to change his diaper.

“Make sure he doesn’t pee on you,” Amelia teased as she walked over to me Noah settled in her arms happily. I rolled my eyes fondly at her teasing. When we were at the hospital I had been learning how to properly change their diapers and I may have gotten peed on by both of the boys.

“I’m a pro at this,” I joked as I cleaned him up and changed his diaper. She let out a soft giggle as she moved away from me to the rocking chair.

“Your Papi is so goofy,” Amelia cooed as she rocked Noah. I felt a smile overtake my face as I dressed Kai back up.

“Auston I don't think I’ve ever been this tired and it’s only the first night.”

I let out a laugh at that as I turned around holding Kai. Amelia had pulled the blanket on the rocking chair over her lap and she was slowly rocking herself back and forth. She had obvious bags under her eyes from the lack of sleep in the last few days and her hair was up in a messy bun. She still looked absolutely breathtaking.

“I know. I’m pretty tired too,” I admitted. I glanced at the clock on top of the dresser. 4:35.

“Thankfully I think they just needed a diaper change because they both look like they are about to pass out,” she mumbled as she glanced up from Noah. I nodded, Kai was already sleeping in my arms.

“Let's put them to bed,” I reached over the crib and set him down and Amelia followed after. We both made our way back into bed and curled up behind Amelia so that I was spooning her.

“You okay babe?” I asked as I wrapped my arm around her waist. She let out a soft sigh as she relaxed against me.

“I’m a bit sore but I’m okay,” she promised as she placed her hand on mine.

----

“They never sleep,” I cried as I pushed the blanket off of me. Auston sat up as he nodded in agreement. We made our way back into the nursery.

“I think they are hungry,” I reached into the crib and picked up Noah who seemed to be crying louder then Kai. Auston picked up Kai and we both sat down on the rocking chair. I was half sitting in Auston’s lap with my head leaning back to rest on his shoulder.

I settled the twins so that I was holding them in both of my arms with help from Auston. Once they were both in a comfortable position I started feeding them. I started to doze off slightly but was started awake by Auston talking.

“They look wide awake,” he said speaking directly into my ear.

“I hope not its only 6:30. I want to get more sleep,” I said sleepily. He hugged me closer to him as he nodded his head.

“Me too.”

“I love you so much,” Auston mumbled as he brushed his lips against my ear.

“I love you too.”

When they finished eating we both burped them and tried to get them to go back to sleep. After almost an hour of trying we gave up and made our way down to the kitchen. We set them in their bouncers and cuddled on the couch with a blanket.

“Would it be bad if I fall asleep?” I asked him as I cuddled closer to him. He glanced down at me and shook his head slightly.

“But I am also trying not to fall asleep,” he told me as he grinned at me lazily.

“They are safe so I don’t think it would be a horrible thing,” I closed my eyes and let myself relax.

----

“What are you two doing down here?” Ema asked, causing both Auston and I to shoot awake on the couch. I glanced around worried for a moment before my eyes landed on the boys still exactly where we left them.

“They got up at 6:30 and wouldn't go back down so we came down here to hang out with them,” Auston answered her as he adjusted the pillow that he was using moments ago.

“Well you're lucky I’m here now,” Ema chuckled as she took her coat off. She had been staying with us up until I gave birth. I think she wanted us to be able to enjoy our first night alone as a family so she had stayed at a hotel for the night. Truthfully I think she just did it because she knew they would be up all night crying and she wanted to get her sleep.

“What time is it now?” Auston asked as he reached up a hand to rub his eyes.

“Eight,” she said, causing my eyes to widen as she looked up from her watch. No way we slept for almost two hours.

“I was going to start some breakfast,” Ema trailed off as she made her way into the kitchen.

“I need to get changed,” Auston grumbled as he ran his hand over his face. He had practice today along with many other commitments he always has before games.

“Okay but will you help me get the boys changed first?” I questioned as I pushed myself up into a proper sitting position instead of leaning against Auston. He sent me a sweet grin as he nodded his head. I knew secretly that dressing the boys was going to be one of Auston’s favorite things. We made our way up the stairs with the boys and into the nursery. I immediately took a seat on the rocking chair because I was feeling extremely sore from all the moving I had done throughout the night.

“Aus where are you going their clothes are in the drawer,” I told him as I watched him walk over to the closet instead. He sent me a shy smile as he pulled the door open and then pulled out what looked to be like four boxes out of the closet. I let out a surprised laugh as he set them on the footrest in front of me.

“Oh my gosh Auston what is this?” I asked as I shuffled around in the top box.

“Is this Gucci clothes?” I exclaimed when I finally caught the logo on the sleeve. Oh my gosh I’m married to a psycho.

“Babe they are going to grow out of these clothes in like two weeks,” I told him as I pulled out the cute little Gucci onesie. He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I know but we can donate them when they don't fit anymore,” he grabbed the onesie from me and started to put it on Noah who he had laid on the changing table. I let out another small laugh as I continued to look through the box. I pulled out a matching onesie but then decided against it and put him into a onesie that was a different color. When Auston was done changing Noah he walked over to me.

“Do you think you can handle both while I go change to get ready for practice?” he asked softly. I knew that Auston felt guilty for having to leave me and the twins to go to practice but unfortunately he was only able to get the days off when I was in the hospital.

“Yeah I should probably feed them really quick to be honest. Just take them both real quick so I can move my shirt,” I told him. He did what I asked and I quickly pulled my shirt off and pulled the blanket we had for privacy around my body. Then I held my arm out for him to settle Noah into and Kai in my arm opposite.

“I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast,” I told his retreating figure. He turned and gave me a thumbs up before continuing his way to our bedroom. When they finished eating I burped each of them and slowly made my way down to the kitchen.

“Hi sweetie,” Ema smiled at me from where she stood at the stove. I gave her a soft smile as I walked closer. She immediately reached out and stole a Kai from me.

“Hi wonderful, you look so much like your Papi,” she cooed at him as she settled him down into a comfortable position. I gave her a soft smile as I slid onto one of the stools at the counter.

“So much,” I agreed as I looked at Noah.

“How did they sleep last night?” she asked as she turned her attention back to the omeltee she was making. I let out a soft sigh as I slouched against my chair.

“They were up every two hours for maybe an hourish and then woke up for good at 6:30,” I mumbled tiredly.

“Was it just you getting up or did Auston get up?” she questioned as she put the omletee on a plate and slid it in front of me. I gave her a grateful smile as I reached forward to pull it closer.

“He got up with me. It’s kind of hard to get both of them to stop crying when it’s just me,” I admitted feeling slightly scared at the idea of doing this alone when he was away on roadtrips.

“It’ll get better and easier,” she reassured as she reached her hand out to settle on my arm. I gave her a soft smile as I nodded my head.

“I know.”

“Morning Papi,” Ema called out as Auston walked into the kitchen with a smile on his face.

“Morning mom,” he walked up to her and placed a quick kiss on her cheek before turning to me so that he could take Noah out of my hands.

“Finish eating and then you can have him back,” he whispered into my ear before pressing a kiss to my head.

“Thank you,” I mumbled as I started stuffing my face.

“What time do you need to be at practice?” Ema asked Auston as she set an omelette in front of him as well. She handed Kai over to me when she took a seat by me. We all started to eat and converse about how the night went for Auston and I and how the hotel was for Ema.

“So I was thinking that maybe I could stay for two weeks. I know we talked about me going home in the next few days but I think I could be really helpful especially because Amelia is still really sore,” Ema suggested as she stood up to put her plate by the sink, grabbing Auston and mine since they were empty.

I shared a look with Auston as I shrugged my shoulders. I honestly wouldn’t mind having her around to help me out during the night. I was scared for what my first night alone with them would be like. I never realized how hard it would be to get two babies to stop crying during the night.

“I mean your more then welcome to stay if you want to mom,” Auston told her as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“But don’t feel like you have to and if you miss home and want to go back we can survive,” I said as I stood up from the chair slowly. I winced slightly as pain shot though my lower body.

“You arlight?” Auston asked concerned as his arm shot out to my back. I took a deep breath breathing in through my nose as I nodded my head.

“Yeah just still in a bit of pain. Probably from moving so much but I’m fine. I think I’m going to lay down on the couch,” I told them making my way out of the kitchen and into the living room. I could hear the two of them talking as I walked further away.

I settled down on the couch and set Kai on my chest so that I could hold him close to my body. He relaxed into my hold. I could feel myself starting to dose off and everytime I was about to fall asleep I tried to wake myself up. A few minutes later Auston appeared infront of me empty handed.

“Where’s Noah?” I mumbled sleepily as I rubbed my eye. He sent me a soft smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to my lips.

“My mom has him.”

He pressed another kiss to my lips as his hand came up to move my hair behind my ear. I held onto Kai so he wouldnt fall off my chest but I reached my other arm up to tangle it into his hair and pull him into a deeper kiss.

“I have to go to practice,” he whispered when he pulled away. I gave him a slight pout causing him to frown and lean forward to capture my lips in another kiss.

“I love you. Call if you need anything. I’ll be back around 1:30,” he promised pressing another quick kiss to my lips.

“Okay love you. Have fun at practice,” I mumbled as I shut my eyes. He let out a soft laugh kissing my forehead before leaving.

A.N. Hey guys I hope everyone is doing well. I have been going through a lot with moving home and just spending time with my family. I recently lost someone so I’ve been really busy just trying to spend time with my family. I really did want to write and post something though because it is a way for me to relax and it’s something I actually enjoy. I wasnt compelty happy with how this piece turned out but I hope that you guys enjoy it. I also am currently trying to work on another piece that someone requested where Auston spends alone time with the boys but I havent finished that. Once I do I will for sure get it posted. Also request are still open and I’m always free to answer any questions for Auston, Amelia and the twins. I’m trying to keep my mind distracted so anything that would help with that is greatly appreciated.

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #auston matthews fanfic #auston matthews fic #auston matthews x reader #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs fanfic #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #auston Matthews fan fiction #Auston and Amelia

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gilly-bj · 4 years ago

Note

Sorry not to be rude ( I prolly worded this better in my head lol ) but when people say "isayama doesn't owe us anything" fr writing a bad ending or whatever, I laugh because he does??? ?? We are the audience , aot is source of income where do you think the money comes from? A fucking tree? It's a give & take relationship. As viewers we have the very right to criticize and ask for a better ending but in 139's case that's not even good enough, we need proper explanation for so many plot holes hello?? Even Isa himself believes that he needs to make the majority happy which is precisely why he went online searching for reviewed and comments from ppl. That's why it's a fan service ending bc the vast majority are either Ems who thrash ehs or ship em by default + ema Stans. And yes he did admit to making changes due to his editors in the past and if that ain't evident enough for the possibility that the ending in fact was charged last minute. Yes isayama can make mistake he is a human and he even said he regrets the ending which clearly tells us that it's the not the ending he wanted. Idk ppl be like "fans think as if they can make better ending" but yes it's true they can actually🤨 , if Isa himself isn't happy with it that means someone else CAN in fact make a better ending because surprise surprise Isa isn't the ONLY ONE with an understanding to his story and decent reading comprehension. It's okay to admit the ending was bad just because the entire series until that point has been a masterpiece, criticism isn't disrespectful it's having common sense to not blindly love what your favs puts out. Em Shipers are now screaming "y'all don't understand the interview" the fuck? How long are they gonna gaslight EHS even after continually getting what they want when are they gonna stop acting like it's not just EHs who didn't like the ending. Eh, Eren being the father made sense for the plotline, unbiased people can have no trouble admitting that. Em was picked up from the trash as a wallmart version of Romeo & Juliet ( even then they lacked "true love" concept by 100% ) at the cost of mikasa's character development. I remember defending 138 and I quote myself saying "isayama gave Mikasa the development of a lifetime" but now I can't even say that anymore because caniconally there is no evidence that supports that anymore. And I'm open to Mikasa critcisism bc i actually cared about her as an individual character. The way the news of Eren X Mikasa love comedy upseted me is because even as a joke we are gonna be stuck in that "Mikasa showed Erne how to love 😍😍💔" agenda with that collection 🤢🤢. Whatever the fuck I do not care anymore ( but I really do ) I just hope what we get for rivamika adds to the theory of Mikasa moving on and does not mess up our healing pace as fandom, I rest my case. 🕳️🏃‍♀️

Hi my dear @ackermanshoe and thank you for this looong ask!

Okay joking apart, I agree with you. “Isayama doesn’t owe us anything” doesn’t make sense; when you post something online, it isn’t yours anymore. AOT is famous worldwide, he hasn’t written it just to keep it in a drawer of his desk. He’s giving us something, which is the time and “effort” he puts in creating the story, and we are giving him something else, popularity and money, that obviously doesn’t make happiness but we must accept that it is important. I don’t think he’s the type of person that just cares about the money; if he was, he would have stopped with season 3 but despite the fact that he was tired he decided to give aot a conclusion with the last arc that unfortunately ended the way we know. So I think that something happened; for me, it’s both his readers’ and editor’s fault. He probably saw many of them disliking the Marley Arc and when the editor talked with him about Erem*ka and the other fanservice shits we got in 139, he just said “ok fine” since he was tired of everyone. Rereading 139, the Erem*ka scenes really look like some kind of sarcastic criticisms towards their relationship. It looks like he made fun of it since everything is really absurd and stupid. And even if he didn’t owe us anything, we would have had the right to express our disappointment; when you work with audience you have to be ready to accept compliments and criticisms. Those excuses to me sounds like the words of an e* that doesn’t accept others opinion about their “canon” ship ☠🤡 They don’t understand that it’s not about shipping, everyone who just looked deeper into the story and wanted and expected the best for the last chapter didn’t like it, even non shippers. Some say it’s fine because everyone is alive but i don’t understand how can you say they are alive when their characters were fucking ruined, they are physically alive but those are not the characters we knew, especially Eren. Even non shippers said that Erehisu made more sense than E*, their ship is completely baseless; we have not misinterpreted the story for 11 years it was just obvious that Eren didn’t love Mikasa; it was confirmed various times that he saw her as a mum and not as a lover and where’s this extreme care he felt for Historia. When did he show that care for Mikasa ☠🤡??? He was ready to kill all his friends, including her. And the “Mikasa taught Eren how to love” is so disgusting that i can’t believe someone actually has the audacity to say that. What love? Does it look like love to you? When you love someone you want the their happiness and Eren said that he didn’t want Mikasa to be happy. He treated her like an object and that’s not romantic, AT ALL. It’s not about shipping it’s just that you have a completely wrong mentality if you think that treating a woman, a man, or basically a breathing human being like that is fine. Mikasa deserves more than a man like Eren, she deserves someone that respects her and loves her. I can’t believe there’s someone in this world that thinks that it’s an healthy relationship. Look, if you are an Erem*ka shipper and you think that their relationship is fine you better leave my blog because, honestly, a person with this wrong mentality doesn’t deserve my respect. Now, I’m sorry for this long post, but I had to vent out my frustration about e*.

These are just opinions but I don’t regret a single word that is written here.

#gilly bj #ask me anything!#answering ackermanshoe

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legalbrats · 3 years ago

Text

starter for @edgelord-dl6

Ema was tired. She was beyond tired, actually. All this travelling around the world, going to Khura’in and back and back to Khura’in and staying unspecified amound of time to rebuild the local justice system... What they needed to rebuild was some sort of work schedule!

And there was this stupid bird in this stupid bazaar filled with people... She was told she would get used to it. She actually did. But right now she was decidedly grumpy and she was going to be grumpy about everything! She was grumpy about the bird, about the lack of Snakoos, about that obviously European lady looking very out of place...

Hold up. Ema stopped and looked in the direction again. Wasn’t that...?

“Franziska Von Karma?”

#edgelord-dl6 #showing off the badge | ic #fräulein detective | ema #no whipping nonsense | franziska #SoJ+ | verse

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letterboxd · 3 years ago

Photo

Pride is a Riot.

Writer and festival programmer Shayna Maci Warner says no to corporate slogans and yes to twenty films that celebrate queer joy, crime and chaos.

See the full ‘Pride is a Riot’ list—from John Waters to Jamie Babbit, and Gregg Araki to Miranda July—on Letterboxd.

During every Pride, and ever more frequently, there is an aggressive push from corporate sponsors and political interests alike to broadcast their participation in the acceptance of LGBTQ+ people.

We see you, wave the triple-decker ROYGBIV sandals, available for a limited time only. We want to be in you, sing the multi-hued photoshops of signature dishes from fast food franchises. We will write off our taxes to *one* charity and work throughout June to not let you know we sponsor bills against trans kids, blare countless icons of patent-hoarding pharmaceuticals, selectively arms-stocking department stores, and trans healthcare-incompetent insurance companies halfheartedly. And in my personal favorite bold PR move, screw you, we’re taking away the rainbow altogether, says the temporarily monochrome packaging of a candy brand.

My friends and fellow movie lovers, I am tired. The double consciousness of knowing a company wants my income and sanitized image, while actively doing harm to those it deems most exploitable, had my broken brain sighing in relief when I walked to my local 7-Eleven and noted that they did not bother to paste up rainbow anything. Is this internalized homophobia? No.

The problem is not that I hate being gay in June, it’s that companies would like to limit my desire to material representation during one month out of every year, and they’re so loud about it this month. You could almost believe that being gay is about looking like you stepped out of an ad—not sex, drugs, or god forbid, healthcare for all.

Luckily, I’ve consumed enough media throughout my life (and lived through my home state of California voting to repeal same-sex marriage in 2008) to know that any sudden embrace of palatable queerness is for one thing only: to distract us from fulfilling our destiny of being gay and doing crime. As The Living End and Kajillionaire remind us, we’re ill-adjusted vagabonds!

Following our ancestral history of breaking man-made laws, Set it Off and By Hook or by Crook instruct us to rob the banks that hand out ill-fitting plastic sunglasses at the parade on June 30 and make billions off overdraft fees by July 1. And as any of John Waters’ oeuvre drawls, if someone finds us digestible enough to sell our own aesthetic back to us at a marked-up rate, well, we will simply have to try harder to be downright disgusting.

I hardly have to remind anyone that the first American Pride was in commemoration of an uprising against law enforcement. Some corporate slogans have caught on to that language, thanking “brave trans folks” with pastel flag merchandise. However, the phrase “pride was a riot” is mired in the past, thanking symbolic faces obscured into legend for fighting for all of us, and exempting our own lack of cause. Pride is still a riot, if you want it to be. You can still challenge corporate and institutional interests in erasing erotic identity, forcibly upholding white supremacy in and out of queer culture, and targeting the most vulnerable for perpetual incarceration of both body and spirit. You, too, can fuck shit up!

In honor of the ongoing choice to accept our own monetized and dulled image, or as Born in Flames, Ema, or Bloodsisters would trumpet, to join with fellow queers in refusing to reign it in under capitalism, here is a list of twenty films, in no ranked order, that exemplify queer principles of anti-assimilation, collective strength, and/or straight-up crime for this Pride season.

These are films that deviate from a Hollywood norm of queer people victimized solely for their orientation (like the effortlessly-named Victim) or playing a queer-coded villain (sorry, Rope fans, we’ll get you next time!), and instead favor the notion of queer characters choosing, and often relishing, an act of crime, a more metaphorical life of an outlaw, or joining the ranks of a rebellious queer community.

Ranging from documentary to narrative feature to experimental, shoestring-budget hybrid, I hope you find something you love to help you celebrate pride in your own way—even if it’s not by starting a fire or robbing a bank.

Ema (2019) Directed by Pablo Larrain, written by Pablo Larraín, Alejandro Moreno and Guillermo Calderón

Flushed with the adrenaline of a fresh act of arson and backed by her cult of devoted dancers/criminals/orgy partners, Mariana Di Girólamo’s titular Ema is an arbiter of chaos. In Pablo Larraín’s contemporary fable of maligned motherhood and unrest fomented by the mistreatment of Chile’s working class, brashly bisexual Ema moves through the world as an outlaw—both repulsive to and desired by those who consider their own moral compasses beyond reproach. In answer, Ema leads her band of queer chaos-makers to a new world—one thrumming with an EDM-reggaeton beat, forged by the fires of their own literal flamethrowers.

Set It Off (1996) Directed by F. Gary Gray, written by Takashi Bufford and Kate Lanier

In Set It Off, F. Gary Gray’s tale of four women who decide the only way out of their immense financial and societal burdens is to turn to bank robbery, Queen Latifah shines as Cleo, an equal-parts goofy and ultra-cool, bonafide Black queer action hero whose love for her mood music is only matched by devotion to her girlfriend.

The gang of aspiring robbers, also comprised of Vivica A. Fox, Jada Pinkett Smith and Kimberly Elise, have their hands full of adversaries in face offs against scheming bosses, Child Protective Services, and an inept, murderous LAPD, but the adrenaline and occasional silliness (planning their next heist like a scene from The Godfather! Ramming through a display of teddy bears with the getaway car!) with which they navigate tense situations makes you root for them all the more.

By Hook or by Crook (2001) Written and directed by Silas Howard and Harry Dodge

A one-of-a-kind film of gender-fuckery, queer companionship and trans masculine found family, Silas Howard and Harry Dodge’s San Francisco-based masterpiece has long deserved its due. With a zany, energetic, DIY-feel and open-hearted performances from Howard and Dodge as odd couple and aspiring criminals Shy and Valentine, By Hook or by Crook takes on poverty, institutionalization and isolation with incisive wit and sincerity.

With good gay humor, the film presents a picture of the determination needed to take care of one another when no one else will do the job, and includes inventive, incredibly funny “heist” scenes to boot.

Bound (1996) Written and directed by Lilly Wachowski and Lana Wachowski

Bound is a sultry, shadow-dipped escapade of lust and danger that your run-of-the-mill, formerly incarcerated gay mafia-affiliated plumber Corky (played to the teeth by a leather-clad Gina Gershon) might not expect out of her day. Gershon and Jennifer Tilly create one of the most iconic cinematic romances of all time as they form a precarious plan to free Violet (Tilly) from the grasp of her controlling, abusive mob-entrenched boyfriend. By parts harrowing and hot, the Wachowski sisters’ neo-noir is a brilliant, cathartic example of the power of unabashed queer love to successfully pick the greatest getaway vehicle known to man.

La Leyenda Negra (2020) Written and directed by Patrícia Vidal Delgado

One of the more under-the-radar releases of the movie-going year that wasn’t, Patrícia Vidal Delgado’s narrative debut is a compassionate, unassuming portrayal of two girls falling in love under an encroaching reign of terror. In La Leyenda Negra, the brilliant, new-to-town baby anarchist Aleteia (Monica Betancourt) is taken under the wing of soft-spoken but determined popular girl Rosarito (Kailei Lopez), who spends her time trying not to look too hard at her classmates’ butts.

Together, they navigate schoolyard bullies, quinceñeras and the looming presence of ICE in East Los Angeles, in a film somehow simultaneously sweet, and burning with the rage of a teenager who can’t understand why an unjust country hasn’t already been torn to shreds.

Pink Flamingos (1972) Written and directed by John Waters

The first entry of John Waters’ much beloved and reviled trilogy of trashterpieces, Pink Flamingos stars perpetual inspiration Divine as herself-in-hiding, furtively holding the title of “filthiest person alive” while living under a pseudonym—that is, until someone else attempts to one-up her reigning notoriety. Debauchery, de-balling and reckless chicken-handling ensue.

The film is full of characters and imagery that Waters hoped would offend the very audience he had accrued with his previous works. Love it, hate it or regard it with a sense of shock and admiration, there’s no denying that Divine’s portrayal of a murderess at large is a successful “screw you” to any expectations of an acceptable homosexual aesthetic.

Screaming Queens: The Riot at Compton’s Cafeteria (2005) Written and directed by Susan Stryker and Victor Silverman

Susan Stryker’s self-reflexive documentary is part historical investigation, part recreation of the drag queens, gay hustlers and trans women who threw the first cup of hot coffee at Compton’s Cafeteria, three years before Stonewall’s infamous brick. As she trawls the archives and interviews those who could still tell the tale, Stryker shapes a lost picture of San Francisco’s attitude toward their trans inhabitants of the ’60s.

Even with the violence of law enforcement and discriminatory businesses alike, Screaming Queens: The Riot at Compton’s Cafeteria stitches together a community that found a wonderland, a glittering land of “Oz”, in pageants, sex work, each other and a 24-hour diner.

D.E.B.S. (2004) Written and directed by Angela Robinson

Despite its initial bomb, director Angela Robinson’s first feature, adapted from her short film of the same name, is a perfect girls-in-revolt viewing experience. The ultra-2000s espionage spoof chronicles the meeting of star-crossed lovers: a hot super-villain and the head of a squad of young women recruited by the FBI for their Discipline, Energy, Beauty, and Strength (hence D.E.B.S.).

When the twain do indeed meet, respectability and responsibility fly out of their heads, but their two worlds still have a vicious grasp on them. Of course, love conquers the FBI, and the stacked cast, including supporting turns by Devin Aoki, Holland Taylor and Jimmi Simpson, conquers the rest, in a tale that flouts every rule in the pursuit of fun and flirtation.

Born in Flames (1983) Directed by Lizzie Borden, written by Lizzie Borden and Ed Bowes

Lizzie Borden’s guerrilla-shot, mockumentary-style dystopian tale of a future just slightly sideways from our own present is both a warning and an instruction manual: solidarity or bust! In the wake of the “Social Democratic War of Revolution” that turned out to be just another transfer of power unto the mighty, underground radio networks of lesbians and their allies start to whisper: another revolution must come, if all people are to be free. As the FBI, once again proving to be the enemy of all queer people, circles the “terrorists” of the Women’s Army for extermination, everything in Born in Flames falls into place, broadcasting a message loud and clear that the power of the people united isn’t to be trifled with.

The Itty Bitty Titty Committee (2007) Directed by Jamie Babbit, written by Abigail Shafran and Tina Mabry

Directed by But I’m a Cheerleader’s Jamie Babbit, this comedy of tiny proportions follows a renegade group of queer women opposed to just about everything touted by the mainstream—including gay marriage. While mired in some dated feminism and patterns of casting cis actors in trans roles, The Itty Bitty Titty Committee takes its pleasure in letting queer and trans siblings-in-arms literally blow up everything that resembles patriarchal values. Add a riot grrrl soundtrack, suspend some disbelief, and you’re in for an exhilaratingly good time.

The Living End (1992) Written and directed by Gregg Araki

Almost any of Gregg Araki’s New Queer Cinema tales of punk youth riot and existential teen despair could make this list, but perhaps the most challenging is his road-trip-to-perdition movie, The Living End. When the aimless, self-destructive Luke (Mike Dytri) kills three violent homophobes in self-defence, fate brings him a quick escape in the form of deadpan, pretentious film critic Jon (Craig Gilmore). As Luke convinces the newly diagnosed-with-HIV Jon to give in to his own “screw it” attitude, the two embark on a codependent romance fueled by horniness, rage, and a killer soundtrack and score by Los Angeles shoegaze and metal disco greats.

Kajillionaire (2020) Written and directed by Miranda July

In Kajillionaire, Miranda July’s off-kilter, bubblegum-pink portrait of a family being strangers to themselves, the crime may be petty, but the consequences are life-altering. Raised into a family of distrusting, conspiracy-theorist conmen, Old Dolio (Evan Rachel Wood) has learned that the only way to garner praise or something resembling love is to play her part in scamming anything that breathes. When an outsider in the form of ultra-charming, any-way-the-wind-blows Melanie (Gina Rodriguez) flirts her way into Old Dolio’s life, she begins to question her upbringing, and look for the people who will love her the way she needs, not the callous ways in which they demand.

BloodSisters (1995) Directed by Michelle Handelman

With a raucous, queercore soundtrack, pummelling MTV-style editing, and thoroughly informative and entertaining interviews, Michelle Handelman’s documentary BloodSisters captures a scene reviled by straight society and upwardly mobile gays alike. Through protest and performance, the leather dykes of San Francisco take the camera on a magical and consensually dangerous journey that pisses on censorship, broadcasts the still-relevant urgency of collective political action and illuminates the inextricability of queer autonomy to unhindered sexual expression. Including interviews with legendary pioneers of the scene like Patrick Califia, Tala Brandeis and Queen Cougar, this is one history lesson you won’t sleep through.

Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018) Directed by Marielle Heller, written by Nicole Holofcener and Jeff Whitty

Based around the true memoir of Lee Israel, Marielle Heller’s quiet, by turns dryly funny and heartbreaking exploration of isolation, fading relevance and friendship, centers Lee (Melissa McCarthy) as an author who turns to forgery as a last grab for her dying career. As the stakes get higher and the game of composing fake correspondence between literary celebrities of yore gets riskier, the unlikely criminal partnership between Lee and her old, flamboyant friend Jack (Richard E. Grant) stands out as a perfectly-matched feat of the actors’ chemistry, and a rare fictional depiction of platonic love between a gay man and a lesbian. Though Lee’s own queer identity is somewhat under-utilized, Can You Ever Forgive Me? succeeds in giving a finger to ideas of celebrity and placing monetary value on authenticity.

Major! (2015) Directed by Annalise Ophelian

Serving as a biography of the innumerable accomplishments and extended matriarchy of living legend Miss Major Griffin-Gracy, Annalise Ophelian’s documentary, Major!, follows the Black trans activist as she unwaveringly cares for her daughters, other Black trans women so often the aim of police brutality and incarceration. The documentary gives a glimpse into Miss Major’s joy in her community-building under the TGI Justice Project, as well as the physical and emotional toll it takes to work ceaselessly for the abolishment of the prison industrial complex. The work is never over, but as Miss Major’s recounting of her own accidental study under the leaders of the Attica Prison riot shows, there will always be teachers handing out tools to tear down the walls.

The Handmaiden (2016) Directed by Park Chan-wook, adapted by Park Chan-wook and Chung Seo-kyung

What’s not to love about the Sarah Waters Cinematic Universe? Endlessly complex schemes, real danger, twists upon twists, and endings that somehow manage to be both completely unexpected and earned populate both filmic adaptations of the Welsh author’s most widely recognized lesbian crime novel.

Whether you prefer The Handmaiden, Park Chan-wook’s lush, slickly erotic masterwork of cinematography and envious costume design, or 2005’s Fingersmith, the more understated, soft-lensed deviousness of the BBC miniseries directed by Aisling Walsh, hell and all her tricks await in this densely packed narrative. To explain too much of the premise is to destroy the fun for the uninitiated, so I’ll leave you with encouragement and a warning not to trust what’s before your very eyes.

The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999) Directed and adapted by Anthony Minghella

Truly a classic of the genre, the filmic adaptation of Patricia Highsmith’s novel is an evil romp for its insidiously charming anti-hero, one Tom Ripley (Matt Damon). Through fraud, impersonation, seduction and murder, Ripley bullets his way to the upper echelon that would never accept him for who he truly is, all the while enjoying the benefits of a homosexual thief-chic wardrobe from legendary costume designer Ann Roth and long-time collaborator Gary Jones. And unlike René Clément’s earlier Purple Noon, director Anthony Minghella’s adaptation of The Talented Mr. Ripley sticks to its source material, refusing to mete the strong hand of the law for that messy moral deviance.

Bad Education (2004) Written and directed by Pedro Almodóvar

What would this list be without an entry from one of the mightiest purveyors of psychosexual desire this side of the ’70s? Like The Handmaiden, to explain the plot of Pedro Almodóvar’s Bad Education would be to take the sting out of its many double-crosses, but I can tempt you with its display of subversive sex during the fascist anti-sex Franco era of Spain, movies within movies and people within people, noirish blackmail and, of course, the immense talents of Gael García Bernal.

Kate Bornstein is a Queer and Pleasant Danger (2014) Directed by Sam Feder

Self-proclaimed “Gender Outlaw” Kate Bornstein is an author, activist, sadomasochist, performance artist, trans dyke, lapsed Jew and outlandish Twitter personality who scares the hell out of people. In Sam Feder’s personal documentary, we also get to know Bornstein as a parent, cancer survivor, partner and ex-member of the Church of Scientology, who hopes to craft her legacy as a pillar of strength and compassion for those cast out for their own gender or desire. As Bornstein makes her way through their latest book tour, Feder attempts to capture just a fraction of the fairy godmother/energizer bunny that simply can’t stop until every young queer rule-breaker feels like they have a real connection to someone who loves them.

Looking for Langston (1989) Written and directed by Isaac Julien

In a space and time where queerness is often scrubbed from history, Isaac Julien’s poetic montage recreates the true fantasy of Black gay life during the Harlem Renaissance. Through evocative black-and-white photography, Julien sets the stage for the ultimate joys of dance, merriment and cruising, powerful enough to supernaturally defeat the police forces that would put an end to their effervescence. In dream sequences and archival footage alike, Looking for Langston mesmerizes, promising the existence of a place beyond the law or suppression of desire that will someday flourish once again, even brighter than before.

Related content

Shayna’s full list of the films mentioned above

Stonewall Revisited: 12pt9’s never-definitive list of non-populist, non-stereotypical and groundbreaking LGBTQI-centred films

Queer Cinema Before Stonewall: Kevin’s list of Film Society at Lincoln Center’s early queer cinema celebration, organized by Thomas Beard

Follow self-confessed ‘Desert Hearts’ enthusiast Shayna on Letterboxd, and keep up with them at their newsletter, which explores the girls and gays that make movies worth watching.

#queer cinema #shayna maci warner #letterboxd #pride #pride 2021 #pride month #pride is a riot #lgbtqia cinema #lesbian cinema #trans cinema #gay cinema #trans filmmaker #trans director #trans writer #gregg araki #miranda july #john waters #queer film #queer filmmakers

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merryfortune · 3 years ago

Text

Coffee Before Work

This is a gift to @kitameguire! I’m your secret santa :D

Ship: Hireshipping | Akira/Ema

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Word Count: 1,715

Rating: T

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Domestic, Fluff, Established Relationship

Entirely against his will, on pure autopilot, when Akira heard the droning tones of his phone alarm go off, he roused and woke up. He forced himself to sit up in bed and he sighed. The morning was balmy and uncomfortable, there were bags under his eyes, his hair was a mess.

“Ema,” Akira announced in agony, “I don’t want to go to work today.”

Ema groaned as she stirred, waking up. She had done very well thus far to teach herself to ignore and sleep through Akira’s alarms but the dulcet tones of his strained voice pierced her like no machine could, apparently. She unfurled herself from how she had been sleeping like a lump under the doona and half removed her eye mask. She pushed it half up the side of her face, wearing it like a sash across her head, it dipped low slightly obscuring her vision and the elastic straps were getting knotty in her hair but Ema hardly minded as she cooed over Akira.

“Are you sick? Are you running a fever? Got a man-cold, you poor diddums?” Ema teased him as she started to proper herself up more. She was still bleary with sleep but even so, she reached around and up to Akira’s face.

He blushed slightly as Ema touched his forehead, her palm was warm against his skin and he smiled. As did Ema. He felt perfectly room temperature and lukewarm. Not a cause for concern, not a single one.

“Nope.” Ema concluded, most medically.

“I just don’t want to go to work. I’m too tired, it's too busy, I just want a break.” Akira murmured in misery.

Ema snickered, “You sound like an elementary schooler.”

“I know.” Akira agreed.

“But you're the goddamn CEO of SOL Technologies instead.” Ema pointed out.

“And it's because I’m the goddamn CEO of SOL Technologies that I have an incredibly tiring schedule. I need more hours in the day to get things done, mediate and barter, set schedules, approve or disprove ideas, it's bothersome. Then I need more hours in the night to sleep.” Akira complained, rambling.

Ema glanced at him, sympathetic, and pet Akira’s shoulder, “I don’t kick in my sleep, do I?” she asked, half-joking.

“No, no, you don’t.” Akira sweetly assured her. “I just can’t make up for lost sleep and rough nights from, well, even years ago.”

“Sounds to me like you need to get some coffee into you, with extra sugar and I bet there’s whipped cream in the fridge, too. Or chocolate spread. Maybe even both.” Ema smiled coquettishly.

Akira let out a nasally sigh, “Ema, that sounds far too…” He wanted to say that it sounded sugary. Or lacking in any nutritional value but Ema’s playful grin wore him down in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t remember the last time he had anything more lackadaisical than black coffee. “That sounds perfectly fine.”

“Good.” Ema chirped.

She leaned in and pecked Akira’s cheek. Akira smiled a small smile whilst Ema ungracefully exited the bed. She wrecked the doona and sheets, letting Akira stay in bed just that little bit longer. He watched as she left to go turn on the coffee maker and blinked tiredly to himself. He was starting to feel just a little bit better about the insurmountable work that never stopped in front of him.

He stayed sitting in bed for just a few minutes longer. When he heard the kettle boil, Akira got up. He was like a zombie, how he walked through the halls, all but dragging himself and all whilst trying to be quiet. It was still early, Aoi would be asleep right now, or so Akira hoped but either way, he didn’t want to disturb her no matter what she was doing: sleeping, scrolling social media, or if the heavens permitted it, studying.

Walking into the kitchen, the smell of coffee was vibrant. Vibrant and chocolaty. It wasn’t bad, however, even if it was an overwhelming aroma, it reminded Akira of the sort of art house cafes that Ema liked and visited on a regular basis; cafes that Akira had only been to once or twice, when he could fit it into his schedule. It was a heartening smell and one that Akira was looking forward to getting a taste of as Ema walked two mugs over to him as he stood by the central kitchen table.

Looking over her shoulder, back to where the coffee maker was stationed, was a third mug which had a note with instructions: for Aoi. The gesture was subtle, unmentioned as Ema loaded Akira up with his mug and was eager to tuck into her own but it meant the world to Akira anyway. He must have been really tired because it almost made him cry. He teared up as he accepted that warm mug of coffee from Ema.

“Enjoy.” she bade him.

“I will.” Akira replied.

They sat down together at the table and drank their respective coffees in quiet comfort. Akira cheered up immediately from the first sip and Ema’s heart, admittedly, skipped a beat seeing such genuine joy and vulnerability on his face. It mightn’t have erased the dreadful bags under his eyes but it certainly gave him some cheer.

Inside the mug of coffee, it was piled high with whipped cream from the can and smelled excruciatingly sweet. Akira wasn’t even sure if he could call it coffee since it smelt and from preliminary tastes, was a lot more like a vaguely mocha flavoured hot cocoa. This sort of caffeinated, chocolate concoction was absolutely not the sort of thing that Akira would ever make or even buy for himself but that made him relish all the more. The chocolate flavouring that Ema had added - either from malt or from the tub of spread - was immaculate.

“Thank you, Ema, I love it.” Akira told her with high praise entrenched in his voice.

“You're welcome.” Ema fondly replied, dreamily watching as Akira drank more of his coffee.

He looked and sounded as excited as a child with his warm drink in his hands. Even if he was trying to hide it but the twinkle in his eye betrayed him. His lips quivered with an endearing smile as he drank more of his coffee, trying hard to scull it down despite it being hot because he felt like he didn’t actually have time to enjoy it. Being a CEO never stopped for anyone and he didn’t want to be late to getting changed, late to getting work, and late to getting anything at all done.

But as the saying went, haste makes waste and Ema snickered to herself. Akira stared at her pointedly, bemused by her impish chuckling. He was completely oblivious to the smear of whipped cream on his upper lip.

“Y-You’ve got a li’l something on your face, right… here.” Ema said and she pointed on her own face where the mess was on Akira’s. He tried to reach for a serviette from the holder in the middle of the table, beside the salt and pepper shakers but Ema cut in first. “Let me help you.”

Ema was smooth as full cream milk as she leaned in closer to Akira so she could caress his face. She smiled softly, even as she felt the prickle of Akira’s unshaved stubble underneath her thumb as she took her sweet, indulgent time doing something about that smear of whipped cream on him. She licked her lips and then his.

She kissed him indolently. Akira didn’t mind one bit, how Ema kissed him, sloppy and open-mouthed as she tried to clean up that whipped cream. She was languid as she enjoyed the fluffy texture of the whipped cream and the softness of Akira’s lips.

As Ema took her overly sweet time, it gave him time to enjoy what was left of the chocolaty, mocha taste in his mouth and remind him, there was still some in his mug if he wanted to savour it. For that, he was grateful - and, quite possibly, for the umpteenth time this morning alone, reminded of how head over heels in love with Ema he was. He almost didn’t want the kiss to stop as Ema licked up the cream off him and then smacked her lips in satisfaction thereafter, a flirtatious sparkle in her eyes.

“Why don’t you take the whole day off if you're so tired? A sick day.” Ema suggested, non-serious but she tried to convey the opposite, just to tempt Akira.

He shook his head with responsibility, not lamentation, “I shouldn’t. I don’t truly want to take today off.” Akira admitted. “I’m not like you. I can’t come and go like a cat, lounging around, doing work at whatever time that pleases me.”

“Fair enough,” Ema shrugged placidly, “that’s what I admire about you. That work ethic.”

“Thank you, Ema.” Akira replied and he drank the last of his coffee, it had grown lukewarm but it hadn’t lost its sweetness or its caffeinated effect. “I should go and get ready for work. I’ll buy breakfast on my way into the office but I thoroughly enjoyed this, Ema.”

“Knock ‘em dead at work then, tiger.” Ema grinned and she playfully punched Akira’s shoulder. “I really liked this, too.”

“We should try and do it more then.” Akira said but his nose scrunched up, he knew that if anyone was going to rain check these sorts of dates, as mundane and not overly frivolous as they are, it was going to be him, not Ema.

But Ema didn’t mind, “Have a good day then.”

“You as well.” Akira bade her fondly. “And, if you could, could you let Aoi know I want the same for her.”

“Of course.” Ema replied. “And I’ll clean these up for you, too.”

“Thank you.” Akira said and he got up.

Ema smiled as she collected up Akira’s mug, placing it closer to her own, the handles clinking against each other. Akira was awkward but he left the kitchen, shuffling off still in his pajamas. He would come back in his suit and tie soon enough so he could go to work having had his chocolaty, whipped cream on top coffee, at home for once with his girlfriend.

#kitameguire #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #hireshipping #zaizen akira #bessho ema #writing tag #merry christmas kita!! and a happy new year

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letusmeetagain · 4 years ago

Note

First i wanna say i really like all your analysis and theories because you put so much effort into them and im really gratful we have someone like you who like i said again have wonderful theories that make so much sense so please i have a question for you regarding a certain well...very dragged topic so if you wouldnt like to awswer i will totally understand it just i wanted to hear YOUR opinion because i really do appreciate your analysis of snk anyway my question is regarding erehisu...not i dislike it but its just im so tired can isayama make em or eh canon already so this clownery end...BUT i really do believe eremika will be the endgame because of all the proof that we have in the manga but people tend to make it as if its a crack ship ugh...what do you think hisu's final role will be? What do you think eren awswered her? Though i dont believe hisu's question meant any romantic undertones what do you make out of her question to eren?

Hi anon!!

Thank you for your kind words T.T

Well... the question focuses on my opinion on which ship has more chances to become canon, right?

I’ve spent some time thinking about my answer to this question, how I could go direct to the point while giving enough arguments to defend my opinion. Prepare yourself because I couldn’t and this will be very long. Sorry...

1. Eren’s characterization + romance

First of all, there is a very important point about Eren that shipers (even me sometimes) forget. A friend that loves and understand Eren the most pointed this many times when I was starting to forget about it... I dare to say that nobody surpasses her understanding of his characterization.

Eren isn’t a romantic person. We all have to keep in mind that his priorities aren’t the priorities a normal person would have. He is like Rick from Casablanca. There’s the duty and then dreams and then, maybe, romantic love (If we take for granted that he knows what it is). Erwin loved Marie but he had a priority. (There’s me finding more similarities between Erwin and Eren). Eren’s current development is more about his mission than a romantic one. Although he plays with romance, he does it while being blatantly blind about it.

Eren got caught in the middle of his normal development from a child that gets annoyed by romance and has some kind of allergy against cheesy moments (for ex. in ch. 3 with Franz and Hannah) to a teenager that blooms to feel romantic love as something important and unavoidable. It’s normal for kids. But Eren hasn’t a normal life. There was always something more important than learning how to love, be loved and express it openly. It’s not that he isn’t able to love, more likely the opposite. He knows how to love and he has his own ways to do it... but the way the world is restricted his possibilities to live a different life. Even in the way EMA never got to communicate properly most of the times. Communication runs sometimes as a question, a statement and no back question (for ex. ch. 3). Eren asked about Mikasa’s reasons to follow him, about Armin’s reasons, where he threw that line about his death being meaningless. Nobody said anything, neither Mikasa nor Eren reacted stating the opposite. They usually don’t have the time nor oportunity to talk or even think about essential topics as feelings of love or labeling their feelings.

Given Eren’s lack of experience and maturity that we could see until Marley arc. Is it even possible that he developed a carnal relationship with Historia before going to Marley? No. No, because it would contradict somehow his characterization. Eren is depicted exactly as someone that took this decision because he lost every single deep bond that would have stopped him. This lack of understanding brought him to this point. The lack of value he places on life and a comfortable life with friends and family.

2. The baby

The whole baby plot point is from my perspective just about the curse and a new generation (maybe) free from being SoY but just normal human beings.

Historia choosing this way was also the safest way to oppose her destiny... strategically speaking. She could trick everyone without being called openly a traitor. So I’m agree with you. Her question wasn’t romantic.

3. The father and his meaning

The father is, as I pointed out once in my Twitter acc., the farmer. My reasons are that there is a meaning behind his existence. He was a boy that dared Historia to break the rules and stop being submissive. He is aligned with Historia’s current role as someone who stopped being the good girl that follows stupid and detrimental rules in disregard of her own life. He is also a man that decided to redeem himself by helping her with the orphanage without trying to get her attention at all. Being a normal person who enjoys a normal life and also redemption. I’m not saying necessarily that it’s about love, but he isn’t just a nobody. He holds a deep, positive meaning for the story. Isayama pairs usually a sinner and an “innocent”: Annie and Armin, Eren and Mikasa, Erwin and Levi, Ymir and Krista, Historia and the Farmer. Eren and Historia are the current sinners on the matter that both chose the rumbling... let’s say.

Why this kind of pairing? Because one has to contribute to the improvement of the other. Two sinners (with the same crime and perspective) can’t help each other. It’s opposition what will bring them to overcome their weaknesses.

4. Development of the couples

That being said, Eren and Mikasa as pair are in the focus. Isayama went through 10 years of development of most of the pairs to build up a support for EreMika. He build parallels with YumiHisu and Falbi and gave us hints to understand EM better. The vow he made to her was probably one of those moments when he started to be romantic without noticing.

5. Eren and Historia: their moments

EH interactions are, conversely, of other nature. Both feel related about the point of carrying a big burden. While Eren has to save humanity fighting, Historia has the role of a founder who has to assure humanity’s survival by having children and keeping the royal family alive. Both want to be free from that burden and end up being “partners in crime” by betraying everyone. I’m missing the romantic interactions to be very honest. It’s because Eren is so self-focused that he anchors here when someone who is alone and having the same problems and feelings appears. But... where did the fandom start to see something between them?

Two moments. The moment when he said “she is admirable” and the moment when he insisted to spare her life. That obsession that is so tricky to even be explained.

The first one made a difference between how Eren acknowledges Historia’s attributes and disregards Mikasa’s. The fandom uses this to point out that Eren likes Historia more. Well, no. His relationship towards Mikasa was characterized by jealousy. He won’t admit anything.

Regarding his “obsession” to save her... this started when he knew the existence of Eren Krüger, his thoughts and the whole story about Dina. It wasn’t before that. We must also admit that Historia’s safety was related to more characters than just Eren. Since the very beginning, her safety was conveniently displayed by Frieda, Ymir and Reiner, what makes me believe that her destiny was to give birth to this baby (aka. plot armor). Her role is to avoid becoming a titan by her own choice, that’s her arc. With Krüger we also knew the importance of a royal: they can give birth to more convenient instruments for war. Knowing that he was devoted to the mission, I believe that Eren is being influenced by him (I want to highlight the word “influenced” as something different to manipulated). So this is all related to the mission and the final outcome about Ymir, the curse, the power and the baby. Eren partly wants to grant her the chance to choose, but he also pushes her to do so based on part of her desires because of the mission as he did with Grisha.

Add here the fact that Historia was prepared to sacrifice his life at the cave if it was needed. That shows her priorities.

A lot of EH shippers claim that she saved him. Regarding her role as savior, I’m more objective and skeptical. She spared his life, but emotionally speaking, she didn’t really save him. The proof is that he was still low, thinking that he was a nobody. Carla’s words were the message with enough impact to relieve him and make him open himself to Armin and Mikasa and tell them about his sorrows. This shows the difference on the impact on him when it comes to Historia and when it comes to Carla... this happens again in ch. 131. He thinks about his mother instead of Historia who was the one reproving his plan. To me, Historia is his friend and inspired him to fight just for his sake against the system and rebel those who are over him and oppressing him. But his soft side is related to Carla, Armin and Mikasa: his family and those, who appreciate his life over his fate and urge of freedom and to be acknowledged.

Bonus: when Eren told Historia that she saved him was more like “You chose this path once and I’m sorry. I’ll be starting the rumbling and you contributed”. Historia’s face to that looks like this: “Oh no...I fucked up”. It doesn’t look like “Oh no... I don’t regret saving you because I love you and I can’t live without you”. On the contrary, that’s when she realizes that she was part of this since the beginning and that by saving him, she chose to let the rumbling happen once in the past. Then she goes along with the plan for her own reasons and because she hasn’t better options to choose either.

Summary:

Eren didn’t develop as a romantic person yet nor prioritized romantic love over his mission. It goes against a previous explicit development of EH before the trip to Marley. The farmer has a positive meaning as the father. EM is more developed and shows romantic undertones and common tropes. EH hasn’t romantic undertones and it’s more related to the mission to save the eldians.

So... that was it. Sorry again for the length and thank you for the ask!

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katsukikitten · 5 years ago

Text

Hell Bound 2

Katsuki notices that with each howl of the wind you snuggle deeper into your scarf, often checking your jacket sleeve to make sure all of the buttons are secure. He knows that they are all neatly fastened as he did them himself but there was nothing he could do about the biting air seeping into your bones.

All the while you drink in the sight before you, thoughts swimming with the swirls of the ornate roof tops, staring up at the large gate to the shrine.

A harsh wind carries with it the threatening scent of snow causing your teeth to chatter, Bakugou elbows you then. Palm held upwards towards you. Hesitation grips onto your body as you look up into normally harsh scarlet eyes.

“I won’t bite, damn.” He says, nudging his open hand against your fist. You see a small blush creeping along his cheeks and take the rare opportunity to tease him.

“What if I want you to?” It comes out as a flirtatious purr, earning you a quick glance from Urarka-san who quickly turns away with flushed cheeks as she reads the language between you two.

A deadly smirk washes over his kissable lips as you take his palm, he leans in lips beside your ear as he speaks in a husky tone.

“Then I won’t disappoint.” What he wants to do is bite your ear then but instead he pulls you along towards the whole reason why you were here.

The Ema are neatly stacked, both the clean slates and the filled ones as you approach the covered walls. Markers are piled nicely by the clean slates as you grab one, suddenly feeling the weight of all of the wishes in the open courtyard.

You stare at the small plank of wood before deciding on your wish.

Scarlet eyes watch closely as your fierce handwriting dances across the board.

‘Happiness for my friends’

His lip curls, as he is about to tell you that you’re supposed to wish good fortune for yourself he watches an idea form in your head. You grab for another board and try your best to hide what you are writing from your tethered friend.

‘A boyfriend too please I don’t need one but it would be nice’

He bites back his snort, watching you place it gently among the other planks when you turn to face him he acts disinterested, his free hand shoved deep into his pocket. He feels the chain pull as you reach for what he thinks is your third wish before he finds the wood being pressed into his chest.

“What’s this?” He snarls out of habit, somehow you do not shrink away or growl back as you normally do. He begins to wonder if all of this time bound together has gotten you so used to his gruff attitude.

“You have to make a wish too Katsu…” You clear your throat, “Bakugou.”

He stares down at you harshly, the capped marker and corner of the wood beginning to bite through his jacket, he sighs.

“You can say Katsuki ya brat.” He grabs for the wood with his left hand, “Now how am I supposed to write?”

“I’ll angle myself like this.” You turn your body closer to his blocking your left wrist and his right, “Now we look like an overly affectionate couple and people won’t look.”

You giggle at the end, he tells himself not to like the sound.

But one can only lie to themselves for so long. He stares down at the Ema not knowing what to wish for for the first time in his life.

Before he would have known what to write without question, ‘Number One Hero or else Kamisama’ but now he finds himself at loss.

Then the marker moves on its own as you furrow your brows in question.

‘I wish for her safety and happiness’

Had Bakugou have a crush that you were unaware of? Regardless you smile almost stunned that he would write a wish other than himself.

He places it then offers you his hand to which you take without any hesitation, snuggling into his warmth anytime the wind whipped through your jacket.

“Y/N! Y/N! Good news! Kirishima lied to Sensei and said his project was locked in the classroom. Sensei agreed to letting him in! Kirishima is going to grab random papers and the key tomorrow! Aren’t you excited?!” Mina throws herself onto you, flashing her boyfriend’s phone with waiting for approval.

“I think they are starting to look like a real couple though..” Denki says nudging Kirisima, earning a glare and an elbow to the ribs. Scarlet eyes gauge your reaction, your hand loosens just a hair, pulling Bakugou’s heart.

“It’s just pretend though….” You gulp, eyes holding some emotion that Katuski cannot place, “We actually don’t like each other much.”

With that Bakugou drops your hand barely letting his fingers brush against yours. Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach, push past the feeling lacing your fingers back with his own.

He glares down at you with a heated gaze, if you ever had a chance before you sure as hell ruined it now. You gulp but choke on the lump in your throat as you’re guided to the train to return home.

💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣

The day yawns into night, the two of you choosing to opt out of the festivities to count down the New Year and instead retreat to your room. Bakugou is far from tired despite today’s adventure and the lack of sleep the night before. He is tense as he replays the day, memories fixating on you from both lack of choice and repetition. He sighs when your skin brushes against his but he cannot deny that it relaxes him some. He fishes for his phone, using his left hand as much as he can to avoid disturbing you, that and he is not sure if he would be able to resist your touch should you curl any closer to him.

‘We actually don’t like each other much.’ The words echo in his head causing him to suck his teeth.

He scrolls idly trying to let social media consume him only for his feed to shove couple pictures down his throat. Todoroki and Momo at the shrine, Kirishima and Mina at the shrine.

Fucking Deku and Urarka at the shrine, he goes to exit out of the gram when he spies a picture of the two of you.

Looking every much a couple as the real ones. You’re looking up at him some type of way, your look softened and seemingly only for him. Your hands intertwined as he gazes down at you.

This was when you were pressing the Ema into his chest with blatant force.

Had you looked at him like that then?

Damn you were a good liar weren’t you?

He goes to the home screen searching for anything before he reluctantly plays an old mobile game.

Reluctant only because he has been stuck on this particular level for much longer than he’d like to admit. The colors of his screen start to catch your eye, capturing your attention as the answer jumps out at you. You take your cuffed hand and swipe across the glass before it flashes three out of three stars.

“Oooii”,” He growls but begins to fly through the levels behind it, “Did ya fucking look it up?”

You giggle that damn giggle again before turning your attention to your own phone.

“No, just a fresh perspective.” You begin tapping at your screen smiling as you do. Curiosity gets the better of Bakugou as he grabs for your phone.

“OI!” It is your turn to shout as he holds the phone away from you, pressing yourself into his body as you attempt to reach your phone, “Stop!”

“Why? I just want to give you some fresh perspective on your game.” He smiles wickedly before turning the screen to face him. He blinks slowly as he digests what is on the screen. An animated man dressed to the nines, a slight flush to his cheeks. Obviously trying to avoid whatever affection MC is giving him.

“Is this one of those fucking OTME games?” He snorts, “You get the recommendation from Denki?”

This time he laughs and embarrassment melds hot with rage in your cheeks. Scarlet eyes rove over the three options as your fist finds his solar plexus.

“OOOF”

You snatch your phone before settling down, he turns onto his side to watch you play. You glare at him as he gestures for you to go on before you stare at your screen. Unsure what option to pick, five minutes tick by.

“Oi, what are you waiting for?” He hisses interest fading fast, you bare your teeth at him before admitting.

“Look, this is the character I’m after…” Before you can finish he picks the middle option, you’re furious, there is no replaying this scene without starting over. If this leads you to a bad ending you’ll just have to kill Bakugou Katsuki.

Where you expected a shake of the tough guys head instead comes a bigger flush.

‘B..baka…Don’t say such things so frivolously…’

You watch the screen flash the character’s main portrait with the intimacy level filling all the way up. Something you had yet to be able to do.

“How did you…” You stare as you begin to prepare for the next part of the story.

“He’s a fucking tsundure. They act all tough but they’re all soft and shit.” He yawns as he watches you play quietly for the next twenty minutes. The men on the screen seem to pine for your attention, saying all sorts of devotions. Were you always this hungry for attention and affection?

You didn’t act like it during class or even when Denki tried to ask you out. In fact you seemed cold only ever spiking any sort of emotion when you were around Bakugou.

And that was solely ever wrath or rage.

The thought snakes its way to his heart, coiling it in a tight vice. He swallows thickly, it does nothing to alleviate the pain in his chest.

“Is this what you want in a boyfriend?” He asks aloud, he notices the dusting on your cheeks.

“Well…” You start but cannot bring yourself to finish. Your man of choice flashes across the screen. Hand held out, eyes averted as he says something so damn sweet. Bakugou sucks his teeth beside you.

“I could be a better boyfriend.” He selects your option for you again, you think for sure he is going to sabotage it this time, but your “intimacy” levels all the way up once again. You side eye him while crimson eyes bore into your screen.

“You? A boyfriend?”

He thinks of your wish, he thinks it wouldn’t be so bad to fulfill it. Shit he had to be better than a virtual one.

Then again a virtual one hardly ever had a real temper.

“Yes me, a boyfriend.” Is his only reply. Your brain goes into hyper drive as you let the question sink in.

“Wa…wait are you asking me out?”

“FIVE!” The rest of the class downstairs begins to shout, reaching all the way up to the two of you enveloped in the intimacy of your room. Somehow you deepen in hue as you become hyperaware of your proximity

He holds your gaze carefully biting the inside of his lip.

“FOUR!”

“Depends, you might not like me once we are uncuffed. You claimed you’d rather be tethered to grape shit head than me. ‘We don’t like each other much.’” His voice dips dangerously low as he repeats your words back. He tucks some hair behind your ear as your heart races.

“THREE”

“I…” Words lodge in your throat.

“TWO”

He can no longer deny that he wants to be some sort of happiness in your life, especially so after seeing that you’d rather turn towards a program than a human being for any sort of affection. He watches your lips in the low light, you do not speak further but you do not avert your gaze.

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The rest of the class screams from the common room. Bakugou’s body moves on its own accord as he leans in kissing you gently, bringing in the new year with you. He goes to pull away, staring into your glittering eyes, stomach twisting as he thinks of your laugh

Of your smile

And how selfishly he wants it all for himself.

“The offer still stands after we are freed tomorrow.” With that he turns onto his side giving you his back.

‘B…baka’ Your phone echoes out in the darkness, you lock the screen and stare at the ceiling as if it had the answers.

It gives you nothing but more questions in return.

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha au #bnha imagine #bnha otme #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo

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