#today in therapy i accidentally annoyed him so hard | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wizkiddx · 4 years ago

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hiiiii i love your stuff - could u do one where the readers ill but they have stuff to do and tom has to look after her. maybe if they were just friends before too but both pining? thankuuuuuuuuu

should I be writing this instead of revising? clearly fucking not. Did I make this little blurb req ridiculously long purely to procrastinate? Of fucking course.

but also this was v cute! I assumed u meant famous!reader, sorry if that's not what u were after at all anon x

summary: Tom Holland turns into the readers knight in shining armour when they get ill during promo

warnings: fainting / feeling ill

///////////////////

It couldn’t be today. Of all days, why today? You’d been at home for two weeks doing absolutely nothing, before this trip. And yet it’s when your itinerary is packed to the brim, people moving heaven and earth just speak to you. Two weeks of unrelenting press for Marvels next big ensemble movie.

Your manager was speaking to you, reeling off a run down of todays activities but instead of listening you nodded along blankly - head rather cloudy with this heavy mist that was not shaking off, no matter how hard you tried.

“You got that Y/n/n?” Lucy pointedly spoke, eyes almost physically knocking you backwards as if her eyeliner was battery rams. Fumbling with your thoughts, your answer wasn’t particularly cohesive earning you just a disappointed head shake.

“I um… yeh I think. Who-who did you say I was paired up with?”

“Y/n please for the love of god. Tom, like I said the past fifty times.” And to be fair to Lucy she wasn’t wrong. It was the first major major promo tour for the both of you and after just two days so far - you were both exhausted. She was more than allowed to be a bit short tempered.

“But we-we hardly know each other? The chemistry won’t be there and-“

“As I said, I tried to re-jig it but Kevin is of the mind that acting is your job.” Her tone was sharp but as she glared across the opposing seats, in the little mini van Marvel had hired for you as transportation, her eyes softened. Lucy had been so wrapped up in her own stress she may have overlooked quite how gingerly you were sitting. By the time she had arrived at the hotel, your stylist had already managed to half save your ghoulish looking face, with sunken under eyes and tired skin, so it wasn’t so blatantly obvious how crap you were feeling. “Is everything okay with you?”

It felt pretty puny to say that the jet lag from flying to Tokyo had been weighing you down further than you wanted, or that the local cuisine top chefs had kindly prepared for you last night wasn’t siting well in your stomach. To be honest, even you thought it was just your body being a bit overdramatic. So in response, you put on your best happy-go-lucky face feigning a smile.

“No no I’m fine, just want to give the best interviews I can and you know…. I’m awkward as hell as it is, then pair me with the most talented actor that I share about two minutes of screen time with…it’ll be interesting.”

The way Lucy reacted with a weird slow nod, eyebrows furrowed, meant it was quite apparent you had perhaps overplayed that one. Had you not been so over the day before it even began, you would’ve tried again to give a more believable act. But as you were, you turned your attention back out to the bustling streets of Tokyo and the high rise buildings bordering each pavement.

You didnt have a problem with Tom, far from it in fact. Tom was hilarious and the times you had met him, you’d both built up this weird and sarcastic competitiveness with each other. It was a game of who could get the last laugh, each of you pushing each other with the Mickey taking just a little further. Of course, not in a malicious way, just the way you’d both lived pretty similar but parallel careers - when everyone drew comparisons between the both of you, it was nice to make it a joke.

Like Tom you’d also started out on stage, had a ‘big break’ movie as a kid and then spent your teenage years on and off film sets - till marvel happened. Then everything blew up to epic proportions, changing your life forever. Actually, it was so similar to Tom’s story, plus the fact you were also from the south west of the UK. It was bizarre your paths hadn’t crossed more - He probably could’ve been a useful ally in the the whole ‘becoming famous’ thing.

And yet, you could probably count on two hands the amount of conversations you’d had with him.

Now that, that was the issue. Right from the beginning you learn what the press want and when you are publicising a movie you cater into it too. They’d all be asking for the insider scoop on set; what pranks you’d pulled on each other; what was the most annoying thing about each other. Which is hard if you’d only had 5 or 6 days actually on set together.

By the time the cab had wormed its way through the Tokyo traffic and you arrived at the PR hotel, it was already 9:30 - making you 15 minutes late (blame it on the traffic). Instantly then you were ushered straight to the interview room for the evening, no chance of green room chat or grabbing a drink before. The place was stuffy, everything was draped with black curtains except the poster board that Tom was already sitting infront of.

He’d scrubbed up well, no doubt about it. He was wearing statement-ish burgundy suit trousers, teamed with a black knitted but collared shirt thing - that was clearly tailor made for the man. As soon as he noticed you scurry into the room, his face broke out into a warm smile, jumping up to greet you in a friendly hug. It was brief, and as you pulled back you accidentally bumped your head on one of the overhanging lights. No doubt someone had spent a ridiculous amount of time configuring them so they were positioned perfectly, which you had just ruined with your big head.

“Oh shit!” Tom just laughed in response, shaking his head slightly as he lead you the two steps across to your pre-positioned seats.

“Making an entrance as always I see!”

“Yeh, you know me, a bit of chaos just to keep everyone on their toes.”

“Oh is that why you’re ‘fashionably late’” With a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, you just rolled your eyes, fidgeting on the chair to find a position that didnt aggravate your stomach so much.

“I’m ready now though! What did I miss? Just having to pretend to be your friend for 15 minutes?” You stressed the words as though the thought of conversation with Tom was the absolute worst thing in the world - which you definetly didnt think. Scowling like you’d insulted his dog Tessa, it was almost visible how the cogs were turning in his head looking for a comeback. Unfortunately for him though, he was quickly shut up but the organiser bringing the first interviewer in .

For what would, no doubt, be a long day.

////

Everything had started off so well, the banter was flowing between you and Tom, no major spoilers revealed that meant Marvel would have to make the journalist disappear. It was once you hit an hour of back-to-back interviews that everything started to crack bit. Because yes, it had only been an hour but that was enough to exhaust you on this particular day. When Tom joked around you got slower and slower, similarly the energy was zapped from your own answers. It’s not very compelling when someone says ‘you have to watch this movie’ in a monotonous voice with sullen eyes.

As the interviewers were swapping in and out, Tom actually lightly nudged your shoulder.

“Everything alright? We’re trying to sell tickets and you’ve got a face like thunder.”

“Oh no-no sorry I just, I-um.”

“You want some water?” Now looking at your with more concerned eyes, as if he was just nervous he’d actually offended you for calling you a boring bastard. And you would’ve picked up on it and alleviated his concerns, if it weren’t for the fact your eyes were glued on the water bottle he was holding out to you. You were thirsty. You knew that, that wasn’t the conundrum. What you weren’t so sure about was whether your stomach would accept it, or more violently reject it. In a very non ‘we’re-trying-to-sell-a-movie’ style.

But the lightheaded fogginess in your brain won out, as you nodded jerkily, taking the bottle and taking a little swig - too cautious to take anymore.

Now concerned with how Tom thought you were being a Debby-downer too, you managed to perk yourself up for the next four interviews. They were easy, asking questions without any activity and though you did rely on Tom beefing out and adding to your answers, it was okay. Then the next interviewer came in, who you recognised as being from the BBC, Ali Plumb, that had interviewed you a number of times. From the way Tom jumped up to give him afirendly bro-hug, you guessed he also was familiar with him. As soon as he took a seat the cameras were already flashing with the red light, demonstrating his 7 minutes had already started.

“Guys! It’s been a while.”

“How are you Ali?” You started it off with the pleasantries, Tom echoing, before the speccy dirty-blonde asked his first question.

“So the last time I spoke to you guys the universe was in chaos, Peter Parkers on the run and Aurora Blake was trying to strip her own powers, so I guess my first question is how are you both doing? We can use this as a therapy session if you guys need.” His very typical nerdy joke made Tom laugh, nodding as he leaned forward and repositioned a bit.

You didn’t share the same humour though, more focused on this invisible blanket of stuffiness that seemed to have been thrown on top of you. It made you feel groggy, incredibly hot and so unbelievable nauseous. The lights weren’t helping either, it felt like you were pouring with sweat from your forehead. You thought Tom was answering Ali, even if you couldn’t really hear - everything had merged into a deafening roar. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, unconsciously making you fumble yourself to standing, desperate to get somewhere with fresh air. The last thing you saw before your vision tunnelled into darkness was Tom, reaching out to try and catch you.

Because next thing you knew, you were on the floor, wires from all the cameras and lights digging into your back as you looked up to see Tom on one side and Lucy on the other - both wearing a similarly panicked expression. You knew you hadn’t been out long, seconds if that, going by the fact everyone else was in the ‘oh my god’ phase of panic. It was a bit weird how calm you where, but then again all your life you’d been the ‘class fainter’. Waking up on the floor was something you were long since used to.

“Y/n? You awake?” Rather stating the obvious Tom asked the question as you bent your head up - allowing you sight of all the concerned facing oggling you. With a defeated sigh, you flopped your head back.

“If this is a dream then it’s a real bloody nightmare.” This time Tom didnt seem to appreciate your joke, looking at you without almost dumbfounded eyes, as you blinked repetitively and groaned.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Lucy appeared to want to lecture you, which to be honest wasn’t the most time appropriate. You were still on the floor, legs crumpled up under you, so ignored her. Instead you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, taking a moment to blink away the blotchy haze that threatened to takeover your vision once again, whilst the pair above you both cautiously rested their palms on each of your shoulders -trying to be useful. The room still felt cramped and stifling, as everyone around were no doubt looking at you.

It took a few minutes but your body seemed to get over itself, sitting up normally and trying to make small talk with Ali - who, by the way, was still sat awkwardly in the chair. Still nestled on the floor, your back up against the chair you had been siting on as you raved with Ali of the Harry Potter theatre show. In a natural lull in conversation, Tom perked up - from the door where he’d been muttering with the organiser as Lucy bit her nails nervously.

“Y/n you need to go home.”

All of you knew what Tom said was impossible. Not being egotistical, but you were too important. Although you hadn’t been paying masses of attention for Lucy’s run down of your itinerary - you knew it was packed.

So you just looked up and rolled your eyes at Tom, earning yourself a strong glare, before locking the organiser in eye contact.

“How many have we got till lunch?”

“Um this gent here” He gesturned toward Ali, who was almost squirming in his seat now “then two more.”

“And then lunch?”

“Yes, then you have a personal appearance at a dinner, so transport will be coming to pick you both up.” This poor guy seemed obsessed with the clock and his timetable, looking at your with a mixture of panic and frustration. You should know this stuff, you should’ve listened to Lucy.

“How fars the drive?”

“At this time probably an hour and a half.”

The plan was clear in your head, you’d sort yourself out in the car and be fully fine by the afternoon and evening engagements. Plus you felt almost fine now. So with a sigh, you hauled yourself up onto the chair, patting for Tom to sit back down.

“It’s half an hour and then I’ll sort myself out at lunch - come on their waiting.” The way Lucy pouted showed she disagreed somewhat, except a stern look kept her from protesting, as Tom walked toward you.

“Are you sure you don’t loo-“

“Let me stop you before you insult my appearance.” Snickering slightly at his worried face, you laughed it off , knocking his side with a gentle murmur of ‘don’t worry about me’.

In fact after that little episode you did feel a little recovered, which meant you were properly noticing the change in the boy sat next to you. Throughout the remaining three interviews he’d done a complete 360 from earlier. Rather than trying to get little digs at you, he had become fiercely protective - jumping in if a questions wasn’t particularly appropriate or relevant to the movie ( meaning when an awfully crap man asked what underwear you’d been able to wear in your suit) ; taking the heat of the conversation as well as just watching you like a hawk. Each time you answered his beady brown eyes were watching you from the side, you got the impression it wasn’t only just because of the risk of spoilers.

Quite remarkably, you survived the rest of the day pretty well, after a power nap in the car on the way over - even if it was a bit difficult when you had your manager watching you like a hawk from the seat across. It was as if Lucy had never seen anyone ill before, she seemed concerned that you were going to spontaneously stop breathing and die at any point.

Though by the time all the official business at the dinner was done, your body and willpower had reached the end of their tether. You and Tom were both on a round table, surrounded by 6 CEOs and execs of what seemed to be a multimillion pound business enterprise. With the language barrier meaning you had to speak through the two people on the table who were fluent in both japanese and English, the conversation was already pretty jilted. Though to be fair, the six did seem to be enjoying the evening - something you werent able to reciprocate. Thankfully, five minutes after the main course dishes had been collected, Tom spoke up from his position opposite you.

“This has been lovely and we really appreciate your time and generosity but me and Y/n have a really early start tomorrow so I think we should probably get back to the hotel.” You swore in that moment you could’ve kissed him, and it looked like Tom could tell - by the way your shoulders sagged and you let out an exhale of pure relief. Apparently even if you’d managed to convince the hosts you were enjoying the evening, Tom easily saw through the performance. After some hurried goodbyes, Tom led you out of the hall with his hand hovering over your lowerback, trying to make sure your exit was as discreet as possible.

Away from the bubble of chatter and activity, in the deserted hallway, Tom stopped you - lightly holding both hands on each of your arms.

“Wheres your team?”

“Um Luce is back at the hotel, she was trying to see if she could reschedule any of my stuff tomorrow.” You winced at the way he sighed, realising you were all on your own in some random business event hall in Tokyo.

“Harry -my brother- is waiting in the car at the front - is that okay?”

“No Tom, don’t worry abo-“

“Yeh well I am and I think you feel ten times worse than you’re letting on.” He spoke harshly, like a school teacher telling you off - except the hint of a kind smile at the end was a dead giveaway.

“You sure?”

With a relieved nod (Tom had thought you might be a bit more stubborn - you obviously were really really ill) he wordlessly shrugged his suit jacket off, wrapping it round your shoulders. He muttered something about not wanting you to catch a chill but to be quite honest you were a bit distracted by the woody cedar smell of Toms aftershave that enveloped your senses. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being fussed on by him? To be fair he wasn’t wrong either, you were in a strapless evening dress - you would’ve preferred to be in joggers, but Marvels press team had other ideas.

After a quick pit stop at the toilets, the two of you managed to make an unnoticed escape out the building - into a big SUV which had seconds prior pulled up onto the steps. You literally melted into the nearest window seat, body hunching over as you probably crumpled Tom’s jacket beyond belief. 2 seats along from you, a frizzy haired boy gave you a sympathetic smile, which you returned weakly whilst muttering a ‘hi’. Meanwhile, Tom pulled the sliding door shut, sitting across from you.

“Oh Y/n this is Harry and Harry this is Y/n.” In unison both of you replied with an ‘I know’ eye roll. Your response was somewhat more shocking to both Holland boys, you could tell from the way they had this whole nonverbal conversation with their eyes - they were very clearly brothers. Needing to explain you continued. “I like to keep tabs on my castmates, I’ve seen you on Toms instagram.” That had both boys smirking, Harry presumably just because you knew who he was; Tom more smugly, you’d just given away you slightly stalked him on instagram.

Silence reigned for a moment, as the driver put his foot down slightly.

“How you doing?” Tom asked.

“Mhm…” you thought for a second, how to eloquently describe the sensation.

“shit.”

Both boys chuckled a little and even though you had closed your eyes in an attempt to dull the throbbing behind your temples, you could feel the eyes on you.

“You want the music off?” Harry asked, referring to the indie-rock coming quietly out the speakers of his laptop, which was resting on his lap. With a shake of your head you refused, even if really silence probably would help your head, you were already causing the two Hollands enough trouble - no need to bore them during the journey back into central Tokyo, especially when you weren’t the most enthusiastic company ever.

Thankfully the music stayed on a low volume, whilst the car seemed to settle into a comfortable silence. With a long exhale you fluttered your eyes open, seeing Tom focused on his phone, before you rested the side of your head against the black-out glass. Taking some relief from the cool glass, you huddled further into the corner of the car against the door.

Floating in the space between sleep and wakefulness, you were kind of aware of your head occasionally bobbing and jerking about - but really didn’t have the energy or willpower to do anything about it. Instead, the thing that perked your attention was hearing some supposed-whispering from inside the body of the car.

“I know she said she didn’t care but she was clearly lying-“

“Like you know! You’ve been desperate to try and spend some time with Y/n- maybe you poisoned her just so you could be all knight-in-shini-“

“Turn. The. Music. Off.” Tom sounded scathing now, and with a grumble from your other-side the cheery drum beats ceased.

“Happy now?” …and Harry was sarcastic.

“Swap places with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Why?”

“So she can lie down.”

“Well no because you would still be in the way if we swapped.”

“Yeh but she can lie on my lap idiot.”

“She can lie on me.”

“She doesn’t know you!”

“Well for 1, barely ten minutes ago she said she did know me. And 2, she doesn’t know you any better!”

If this was their version of whispering, you would love to hear what volume ‘shouting’ was. There was no reply for a short while, you imagined the two brunettes locked in some intense staring match.The next time Tom spoke he sounded more defeated - almost begging.

“If I admit you beat me at the driving range the other day will you-”

“I KNEW IT!” Harry yelped, the volume making you jerk, eyes flying open before reflexively closing because the light was too bright. There was a little mutter of an apology, then silence again.

Once agin you must’ve drifted off because it felt like absolutely no time had passed when a firm but gently hand on your shoulder nudged you awake.

Sure enough the boys had swapped position, Tom now sitting along the seat from you, Harry looked a little sulky from across the way. It was Tom who was reaching over, a gentle and peaceful smile on his face.

“You wanna lie down? Don’t want you to strain your neck.” He wasn’t wrong, adding to the throbbing headache, the cloudiness in your brain and the unsettled feeling in your stomach… now your neck hurt. Just bloody great.

Had you been your normal witty and perceptive self, you might’ve teased Tom as to why him and his brother had done a switch - but everything hurt and all you wanted to do was sleep for a hundered years. So with squinting eyes you jerkily nodded, missing how Tom chuckled to himself. The guy undid your seatbelt, then sat back to let you balance the back of your head on his thigh, looking up at the roof of the SUV. Already your eyes were closed again, you kicked off your slip-on heels and bent your legs up to lean against the backrest - occupying the position you had been sat in before hand. You felt his hands reposition the jacket, pulling it round so it was now like a blanket tucked under your chin.

To be fair it was much more comfortable than sitting up and you weren’t even aware of how quickly you dropped back into sleep.

Though it wasn’t quick enough to miss Harry’s very sulky sounding comment, presumably meant only for Tom’s ears.

“Still think you’re being fucking creepy bro.”

<33 lemme know what u think! (would make me feel less guilty for not doing all the work I rlly should be doing aha)

tagging : @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom Holland angst #tom Holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #harry holland #tom holland request

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hermannsthumb · 3 years ago

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possible prompt for a university au: newt is the biology major who maintains all the fish tanks in the physics building at 11pm and hermann is the physics student who likes to wander the halls to think. newt accidentally flings water all over the ground and hermann trips, hijinks ensue.

earlier today I was thinking about how I wrote a college AU fic almost 3 years ago to the date, and how I wanted to do more bc its fun thinking about newt and hermann as dumb college students

----

Newt's not really sure how he ended up with the weirdest work-study job on the planet, but honestly, things could be much, much worse (he could be stuck down in the dining hall, or dealing with confused freshmen in the school bookstore) so he keeps his thoughts on the whole thing to himself. Every Friday at eleven sharp, Newt pulls on his grodiest t-shirt and a pair of long rubber gloves and treks all the way over to the physics department to set to work scrubbing down the fish tanks that line the classroom walls. Why does the physics department have fish tanks? Newt's not really sure about that, either. It's kind of an insane amount of them, too, more than even the marine bio department has. Maybe it's supposed to boost morale or something. Hey, look at these crazy cool tropical fish who get to do nothing but eat and swim in circles, sorry you're stuck inside calculating velocity and shit.

Whatever, Newt's not complaining about that either. Let the physics nerds have their fun. It'll be good for them to branch out a little, realize there's life beyond robotics club meetings.

Also, Newt likes the fish. They're cute. He likes to think they like him, too, because they're very well behaved when he has to scoop them out of their tanks and plop them into smaller fish bowls (the kind goldfish in movies always use). He's going to teach them tricks eventually—he had a beta fish once who would do a little flip when Newt tapped the glass a certain way because he knew he'd get rewarded with dried worms, so Newt knows it's possible. Just imagine, a hundred fish doing flips on command. Newt Geiszler, fish whisperer.

Yeah, maybe the job could be more glamorous. It's really hard to get algae out of the gloves, and he hasn't been allotted the budget for a new pair yet.

"Hey, guys!" he shouts as he pushes in the door to room 214. The fish don't acknowledge him: they just continue swimming in their giant tank. In and out of plastic plants and rock caves. The rock caves were a gift from Newt three months into the job, and so were some of the moss balls—stimulation is important for fish! He wouldn't want to be trapped in a glass box with nothing to do, either. "I bet you missed me. Ready for a clean tank?"

Newt always talks to the fish, even if they don't talk back, because he thinks it's important to build their trust. He'll usually keep a running commentary of his week as he scrubs the tanks, just get everything off his chest that he needs to get off. Stuff he's worried about. Stuff that went well. Stuff that went badly. Therapy's expensive, and Newt's student health insurance can only cover so much, but talking to fish? That's free.

That's also kinda why he does it so late at night and over the weekend. The last thing he wants is an audience. Because, one, talking to fish is admittedly weird, and two, no one wants a glimpse at Newt's psyche like that, probably not even the fish.

The first step in cleaning the tanks is relocation. Newt digs his stereotypical goldfish bowls and an industrial-size mesh wand out of the supply closet, fills the former with some of the special tank salt water, and begins the slow and arduous task of scooping out the fish and depositing them into the bowls. "I had the lamest week," he announces once he's about three clownfish in. "I was working on a group project Saturday—"

Then Newt stops, because he hears footsteps in the hallway just outside the classroom.

Serial killer, Newt's instincts supply helpfully.

No, Newt corrects himself, that's dumb. Why would a serial killer wander into the physics building at eleven o'clock at night? Why would anyone, period? He's probably imagining stuff. Lack of sleep, stress over his upcoming projects, residual embarrassment from his disaster study session Saturday, all of it culminating in Newt thinking there's someone there. No, definitely imagining it. Newt can only even get in this late to the department because his ID swipe card is set up with the right permissions—not even the physics students have the permissions he does to be in this late at night. Well, not unless they clean the kitchenette in the student lounge or something.

Or if Newt left the door unlocked.

More footsteps. Closer now.

Newt's pretty sure he didn't leave the door unlocked, because he thinks it locks automatically behind him, and he would have to literally prop it open for anyone to get in after him. But anything's possible. The door could've caught on a dropped pencil or a paper scrap or other weird shit that physics students leave around, and a serial killer could've noticed and taken the opportunity to sneak inside on the off chance a hapless young biology major was scrubbing slime off fish tanks in the middle of the night. Any minute now, Newt's about to end up on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. The Physics Department Murder. The Disappearing Biologist. (Nah, neither of those are very good titles, but that's why Newt isn't on the creative writing track.)

Step-tap-step. Closer now; Newt's heart leaps to his throat. Step-tap-step. Step-tap-step. Pausing just outside the door of room 214. God, why didn't Newt turn the lights off? Why didn't he shut the door?

Newt reaches for the first vaguely weapon-shaped thing he can find—an empty fishbowl, because Newt's not going to sacrifice any of the fish for this—and, as the door swings open, hurls it with a cry.

The bowl clunks on the ground. Except it turns out Newt grabbed the wrong fish bowl, because (even though it doesn't shatter, thank God) water quickly begins to seep across the slate floor tiles towards Newt's serial killer, a pathetic little clownfish (Newt thinks this one is named Albert, because the physics department is made up of nerds who do shit like name their random pet fish after their kind) flopping around in the puddle. Newt's serial killer, meanwhile, cries out similarly, his arms windmilling as he loses his footing and slips backwards, his cane—

Oh, fuck.

The intruder is not a serial killer. It's someone possibly worse, actually: Newt's mortal enemy, Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt's not really sure at what point Hermann became his mortal enemy and not just some guy I have class with that I hate, but he can pretty easily say that they've hated each other since the moment Hermann walked through the doors of Engineering 101 and was deigned Newt's lab partner by the Alphabetized By Last Name Seating Chart god. Something about Hermann just gets under Newt's skin. It's not his prissy English accent, or his oversized sweaters, or his absolutely horrendous haircut, and it's not even that he takes every opportunity to savagely rip apart every single thing Newt says in class. Don't get Newt wrong, that's all super fucking annoying, but it's annoying levels he can deal with.

It's the stuff they have in common that makes Newt hate him. It's like Hermann's a slightly broodier and more angular mirror that reflects all of Newt's most egregious faults—his arrogance, his stubbornness, his social awkwardness, his desperation to be taken seriously—right back at him. It sucks.

Plus, one time Newt caught Hermann ripping down the flyer he put up on the quad for Anime Club to advertise his stupid chess club instead, and he's never managed to forgive him for that.

Newt may hate Hermann, but he's not about to let him land on his ass in a puddle of fishy water (especially not on a freezing November night) just because the subsequent bitching would be unbearable, and, yeah, it would be supremely shitty of Newt, so he leaps forward just in time to catch Hermann and his cane before he hits the ground. He's so impressed with himself with his amazing catch that it takes him a few seconds to realize that Hermann is shouting and probably has been shouting since he slipped.

"—bloody maniac! What on earth are you doing in here? How are you in here? Did you just assault me? I'm going to phone campus police, you wretched—"

"Hold that thought," Newt says.

He rights Hermann and snags the mesh net and rescues poor Al before it's too late, dropping him back into the big tank with the rest of his friends. Newt can't be sure, but he thinks Al blows a bubble in thanks at him. Maybe he needs to make friends outside fish.

Hermann is still yelling at him.

"I am going to tell the head of the department you're—you're skulking about in here after hours!" he declares. "You're a menace. Pay attention to what I'm saying to you, Newton!"

Newt sighs and turns around. Hermann's turned an interesting shade of red—sort of like an over-boiled lobster, or if he fell asleep in the sun for too long. Newt wonders if it's from embarrassment (almost falling on his ass) or anger (almost being knocked on his ass). Probably anger. "Look, dude, I'm sorry," Newt says. His face twists like he ate a lemon, and he hopes Hermann doesn't notice. Newt hates apologizing to Hermann. "It's my job to clean the tanks every weekend. You scared the shit out of me and I freaked out—it's just that, like, no one ever comes by this late. Ever." He decides not to mention the serial killer thing. Hermann might make fun of him for being jumpy or paranoid or something.

Hermann's scowl doesn't lessen, but he does nod. Plus, he stops shouting. That's as much as Newt's gonna get of forgiveness. "Hmph," Hermann says. "You clean the tanks?"

"Every weekend," Newt repeats. He realizes he got some fish tank slime on Hermann's button-up when he caught him. Oops. Hopefully Hermann won't notice until Newt's in the safety of his dorm. "Gotta pay for my textbooks somehow." Then he frowns. "Wait, so what are you doing here? I didn't know you had access to the building this late."

Maybe Hermann is the kitchenette-cleaning guy after all. But, to his surprise, Hermann sniffs and casts his eyes to his dorky Oxford shoes. "Er," he says. "It's just—I was having trouble working out a solution to a problem, and thought a walk might do me good. Chilly nights like this one always do. And I quite like this building at night—it's calm, and much quieter than my dormitory." He fidgets. "And—well—only don't say anything to anyone, but I rewrote the permissions of my ID card so I could come and go wherever I please ages ago."

"You rewrote the permissions?" Newt says. "What the hell, wouldn't you have to hack into the security system or something to do that?"

"Well, obviously," Hermann says.

Despite himself, and despite Hermann being his Mortal Enemy, Newt is genuinely impressed. "Dude," he says. "That is so badass." Since when has Hermann been a badass?

Hermann's eyebrows jump, and he blinks at Newt behind his dorky librarian glasses. What twenty-one-year-old wears librarian glasses? With a chain? "You think so?" he says.

"Uh, totally," Newt says. "What problem were you stuck on? The one from Saturday?"

Being lab partners for engineering means Newt and Hermann have to collaborate on pretty much everything, including their midterms. Their midterm is what they've been working on for the past two weeks. On Saturday, though, they met in neutral ground to work on it (a reserved study room in the library), and, after a stupid and massive argument that had the librarians hoisting them out by their shirt collars and threatening to ban them for life, Hermann called Newt an idiot and stomped off into the night. Newt still hasn't gotten around to giving the problem another shot. Whatever, they have another week before the dumb thing is due. Plenty of time. Hermann nods. "Yes," he says. "Er—that one."

Newt glances at the clock ticking away on the wall. Quarter after eleven. Hermann's delayed him a whole fifteen minutes. Technically, he reminds himself, he doesn't actually have to have the tanks scrubbed by Friday night—he has the whole weekend to get it done. Also, he kind of feels like he owes Hermann for attacking him the way he did. Accidentally attacking. "Listen, Hermann," he says, feeling totally insane for what he's about to suggest. But he kind of wants to know more about Hermann The Badass. "What if we went back to my place and worked on it together? I'll buy us pizza, and I have, like, a bunch of energy drinks." The pizza place nearest campus is open until three in the morning, almost definitely because they get all of their business from sleep-deprived undergrads. Plus, they have midnight specials where you get free breadsticks with every pizza. Newt could go for some breadsticks. "It might be...fun," he adds.

Fun? With Hermann? Hermann will think he hit his head or something.

But to his surprise, Hermann doesn't hesitate even a second before saying "Alright, then."

"Oh," Newt says. He honestly thought Hermann would put up more of a struggle. "Cool!"

"But I might need to borrow a jumper," Hermann says. "If you'd be so...courteous, that is. I'm a bit chilly."

For some reason, the thought of Hermann (Newt's mortal enemy, but also a secret badass) curled up in one of Newt's baggy sweatshirts makes Newt feel all weird and warm all over. He swallows a few times, because his throat feels a little weird, too. Too tight. Like he just ate something he's allergic to. "No sweat," Newt says. "Let me just get these fish back in the, um, the tank. And—" He waves his slimy, gloved hands. "Take these off. And clean up that puddle. Gimme—um, gimme like, ten minutes?"

"Of course," Hermann says, and gives Newt a small, terse nod.

From Hermann, it's a smile. Newt almost slips on the puddle he's so blindsided by it. Stupid Hermann, making him feel all weird and clumsy.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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mileapokp1677 · 2 years ago

Text

Three Steps to Win You (CH 21)

Title: Three Steps to Win You

Rating: M

Pairing: Daddy Chan/Tankhun, Kinn/Porsche, Vegas/Pete

Category: M/M, AU Nerd-Jock

Summary: Accidentally, scientist Tankhun Theerapanyakul embarrassed footballer Captain Chan "Daddy" Knight in front of his coach, teammates and fans. He had to fulfill three tasks from the captain before his apology was accepted.

Chapter 21

(Tankhun POV)

Friday Evening -- Theerapanyakul Residence

"Thank you for the ride and dinner, Tay. I told you I can take a taxi home, but you insist on driving me home," said Tankhun as he got off Tay's red Mercedes-Benz GLA. "You have a match tomorrow."

"Never mind that, Doctor T, this is the least that I can do,” Tay replied cheerfully. “Thank you for helping me choose the best suit. Besides, Cap will kill me if I don't make sure you get home safely."

“Ah, yes, of course,” Tankhun responded with a half forced smile. "Good luck with tomorrow's game, Tay."

"Thanks, Doctor T! Goodnight!"

“Goodnight!”

Tankhun waited for Tay's car to leave Theerapanyakul residence completely before that smile finally disappeared from his face. It had been 3 days, and still, he couldn’t get over his guilt. This fake dating business was not as easy as he imagined. Tricking that evil woman and annoying paparazzi might be fun, but lying to close friends and family was damn hard, especially since Tankhun was the outspoken type of person.

Retail therapy with Tay was quite entertaining. He had intended on splurging to forget his restlessness, but nothing, not even one pair of shoes, caught his attention. When he realized that fact, he knew for sure that he was not fine, because since when did Tankhun Theerapanyakul not spend money at his favorite boutique?

Tankhun let out a long sigh and prepared himself before entering the house. He wished Pa and Kim had finished dinner and gone to their rooms, because frankly, Tankhun didn't want to see anyone right now.

"P', is that you?" Kim asked as soon as Tankhun stepped inside.

Damn!

"Yeah, it's me," replied Tankhun, who was still trying to avoid Pa and his youngest brother. "I think I’m gonna go straight to my room, I had dinner earlier and was a little tired."

"P', wait!" Kim shouted, sounding very excited. “I need to tell you about something.”

Tankhun had intended to come over to Pa and Kim in the dining room, but Kim seemed impatient and came to him instead.

"P', we will watch the BSFC game tomorrow afternoon at the BOC Stadium!" informed Kim, looking very happy.

WHAT?

"Huh?"

"Today I came home from campus a little early, and Pa was waiting for me in the living room. He asked me to get tickets for tomorrow's match," Kim explained. "I'm not sure if I can still get tickets because it's so close to the game, and my guess is right, tickets are sold out. Luckily, P’Pete is willing to help!"

WTF?

“Kim, what did you do?” asked Tankhun in a displeased tone.

"I DM Pete's IG, and he said he'd take care of everything. We just need to come 2 hours before kick off and enter through the back door. There will be a stadium staff waiting for us there and the staff will take care of everything. Isn't that great, P’?"

God damn it, KIM!!!

Tankhun closed his eyes trying to contain his anger, but his emotions that had been building up for the past three days burst out uncontrollably.

"Not at all," he hissed angrily at Kim. If Pa wasn't in the dining room, Tankhun would definitely yell at Kim on top of his lungs.

“P’?”

“Do you have any idea what you have done?” Tankhun hissed again.

His face must have looked so furious, because Kim looked panicked.

"Asking for help?" he replied in a very small voice.

"NO! You have embarrassed me for shamelessly taking advantage of my relationship with Chan ( that’s not even REAL!!! ) to get special treatment,” whispered Tankhun sharply.

Kim winced.

“P’, I just…”

“Cancel it,” ordered Tankhun curtly. “ Now! ”

The last thing Tankhun imagined happening was Pa suddenly appearing behind them, with a face that was so full of joy, Tankhun stunned. He couldn't even remember the last time he saw Pa like that after Ma passed away.

Try never.

"Tankhun, has Kim told you about our plan for tomorrow?" asked Pa very excitedly. "I haven't watched football at the stadium in a long time. I’m so excited!"

There was nothing in the world that Tankhun wouldn't be willing to bear to see his Pa happy and excited like this. Even putting aside his pride. As soon as he saw Pa's pleased smile, he knew he had lost.

"Yes. Yes, he has, Pa,” answered Tankhun quickly. “I can't wait to spend time with you guys tomorrow."

What else could he say other than that? He just hoped that Pa didn't notice his uneasiness.

Damn!

******

(Tankhun POV)

Saturday Morning -- Theerapanyakul Residence

The next day, Tankhun knocked on Kim's bedroom door to apologize. He didn't like Kim's actions yesterday, but Tankhun realized he wouldn't have behaved like that if he hadn't been ignited by his own piled up emotions that he still couldn't control.

“Kim?”

Not long after, there was the sound of a lock turning and Kim, whose hair was still messy, opened the door and answered, "P', come in."

Tankhun stepped into Kim's room, and sat on his study desk chair, while Kim sat on the bed facing Tankhun.

“Now that I think about it, I realize it's presumptuous of me to contact Pete like that,” Kim said in a low voice. "P’, I’m sorry for embarrassing you."

“I came here to apologize,” Tankhun replied calmly. “I shouldn't be that hard on you.”

Kim looked at Tankhun questioningly, even though he didn't say anything, it was obvious he was surprised that Tankhun apologized to him.

"Just so you know, I still don't like what you did yesterday… At all," Tankhun told Kim firmly before continuing, "There are a lot of people around public figures like Chan and Pete, who are always trying to take advantage of them, whether they deserve it or not. I just don't want you to be that kind of person. It's not nice."

“I'm saying this not to look for justification and anything like that. I know what I did was wrong, but yesterday seeing Pa excited like that... I just didn't want to disappoint Pa, so I didn't think carefully before contacting Pete," Kim explained. "I-I've never seen Pa like that."

A little emotion and guilt crossed Tankhun's mind in an instant.

"Pa hardly ever looks as excited as yesterday after Ma died, and you were very young then, so of course you never saw that kind of sight."

Kim nodded. "Sometimes I wish I could get to know the old Pa."

Tankhun stood up from the chair and approached Kim, then he hugged his youngest brother tightly and said, "I'm so sorry, Sweetie. To be fair, I think I will do the same thing."

Kim again nodded while hugging Tankhun's waist.

"Come, let's go downstairs for breakfast," said Tankhun. "How about I make banana pancakes for us?"

Kim raised his head to look at Tankhun and smiled, "Let's go."

******

(Tankhun POV)

Saturday Afternoon -- BOC Stadium

So far, today has turned out to be better than Tankhun had imagined, after a nice breakfast together, later on Pa also treated them to lunch at his favorite fancy restaurant, which he used to frequently visit with Ma.

At exactly 2 PM, Tankhun, Kim, and Pa arrived at the back door of BOC Stadium. A stadium staff was waiting for them there, as promised.

"Doctor Theerapanyakul? My name is David," said the staff member as he introduced himself. "Co-Cap is waiting for you in the family lounge. This way, sir."

"Thank you, David," replied Tankhun.

“Chan doesn't know we're coming?" Tankhun whispered to Kim, as they followed David to the family lounge.

"I don't know, P'," Kim answered. "P'Pete is the one who arranged everything."

They didn't walk for too long and then stopped in front of a large metal door. Before David opened the door, Tankhun asked him a question. "Isn't it a dressing room for the BSFC players?"

"That's right, Doctor Theerapanyakul," affirmed David. "Inside the dressing room there's a family lounge, which is intended for family and close friends of BSFC players. The players locker room and shower stalls are located at the back, bordered by a wall, so not everyone can enter."

“I see,” said Tankhun.

“Shall we come in?” asked David as he opened the door.

Tankhun nodded and followed David inside.

As soon as Tankhun entered the family lounge, Pete and several BSFC players who were there immediately greeted him and Kim.

"Doctor T, Kim! Welcome to BOC!"

"Hi, Doctor T~ Kim~"

"Hello, boys..." Tankhun returned their greeting.

Kim, who was standing behind him, also returned their greetings while waving excitedly, "Hi, P'Arm, P'Pol, P'Pete!"

“I'm so glad you came, Doctor T, Kim…” Pete said, shaking Tankhun's hand and grinning broadly.

“Pete, this is my father, Korn Theerapanyakul,” replied Tankhun, introducing Pa to Pete.

Pete immediately shook Pa's hand and greeted him politely, "Sir, I’m Pete, nice to meet you."

"Likewise, Pete," said Pa. "I have to tell you this, young man, your passing in that derby game... incredible!"

“Thank you, Sir,” Pete replied. "Believe me, it was 90% adrenaline, I don't even know whether I can do it again or not."

"I'm sure you can, P’,” Kim said, jumping into the conversation.

"Thank you, Kim."

Tankhun looked around the family lounge which was quite full. Most of the people there were men, who were talking to the staff or maybe the coaches. Tankhun wasn't clear either, because this was his first time here. In the corner of the room there was a sofa, and sitting on it were two beautiful women, who were talking to each other.

"The one sitting on the right is Marina, Jom's wife, and the one on the left is Victoria, Ken's date for this week," said Pol, who suddenly appeared beside Tankhun.

"Pol, you forgot," continued Arm. "This is the second time Ken has brought Victoria here. She came too in the second game, remember?"

"Oh, yes, you are right. I remember now."

"Oh, is this something unusual?" asked Tankhun, curious.

"Yes. Ken has never dated the same woman," stated Pol in a low voice.

"His date changes every week, Doctor T," added Arm, whispering.

"So, maybe Ken is serious about Victoria?" asked Tankhun, also whispering.

"It's still not clear, Doctor T," replied Pol, the expression on his face conveyed his disbelief.

"That's right, everyone is still waiting. Maybe, if Victoria comes back next week... Hm..." added Arm again.

"We'll just have to wait and see then," said Pol, finishing Arm's words.

Tankhun smiled hearing the conversation between Arm and Pol. Undeniably, Tankhun's curiosity was slightly tickled by them. Did these two boys even realize that they were finishing each other's sentences? Did they have a special relationship?

Hm, interesting…

“Tankhun?”

Tankhun didn't have to turn around to know that the voice calling him from behind belonged to Chan. Moreover, Pol and Arm immediately greeted their Captain.

Stop being a coward and say hi to him now!

"Surprise!" exclaimed Tankhun as he turned his body around to face Chan, trying so damn hard to put on a calm face.

Chan looked ecstatic, the smile on his face was unmistakably very wide. Was it just acting? Considering the room was full of people, and they were still under the pretense of fake dating.

Without a word, Chan put his duffel bag on the floor and then hugged Tankhun tightly. Tankhun reflexively returned Chan's hug. Afterward, the Captain's right hand then moved gently from Tankhun's waist to the back of his head and stayed there.

"I'm so glad you came," Chan said, sounding very relieved. He tightened his arms.

Tankhun couldn't respond yet, he was still too shocked. So he just stayed quiet and hugged Chan tightly.

TBC

#daddy chan #tankhun theerapanyakul #chantankhun #au nerd jock #kpts fanfic #kinnporsche #vegaspete #slow build #kpts boys #slow burn #everybody is a footballer #kim theerapanyakul #kpts #kinnporsche the series #kinnporsche la forte #fake dating #fanfic

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

SIRIUS/REMUS PLAYING WITH PUPPIES WHILE ANSWERING FANS QUESTIONS

Please know that if we ever met in person, I would literally lift you off your feet and hug you for suggesting this. My afternoon was filled with adorable puppy videos because of this!

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Can I have them?” Remus asked softly, staring at the person behind the camera with big, pleading eyes. “Please?”

“Do the introduction and then we’ll set ‘em loose,” Marlene said.

“Fine. Hey, everyone, welcome back to Lion Pride! I’m Remus Lupin and I’m here today to play with puppies.”

“And answer questions.”

“And answer questions,” he added. “Maybe, like, one or two in between snuggles.”

“You’re going to answer all of them,” Marlene said more firmly.

He rolled his eyes and took the lid off the jar of paper slips. “Can I have the puppies now?”

A door clicked open behind the camera and Remus lit up as four puppies tumbled into frame, racing straight for him. “Hello, babies!” he laughed as a tiny golden retriever jumped on his chest. “Oh, I love you so much. Come here, come here, let me give you kisses.”

“Question number one?” Marlene prompted as he began playing with them and rolling their toys around.

Remus sighed and pulled a question out. “What would I be doing if I didn’t become a hockey player? Physical therapy for su—ope, okay, you can have that one.”

The Irish Setter puppy growled playfully as they played a short game of tug-of-war until the paper tore.

“Oh no, it broke!” Remus exclaimed, giving the pup a scratch behind the ears while it chewed on the leftover scraps. “Yes, that’s all yours now. Next one: what is the best part about playing professional hockey? I get to do interviews like this.” One of the puppies, a medium-sized black one, began chewing on one of the laces of his Converse. “Excuse me—excuse me, young man, that’s my shoelace. Are you chewing it because it’s rainbow? Is this homophobia?”

“Remus.”

“Sorry.” He lifted the puppy into his arms and kissed his head. “Okay, munchkin, what’s next? What’s next? You’re so fucking cute, I just wanna squish you. Um, what’s the most common thing fans say when they meet me?” He laughed and the puppy licked his cheek. “Usually they look at me and go, ‘god, you’re tall’, which surprises people because I’m always around these gigantic guys. Do these dogs have names?”

“If I tell you their names, you’re going to get attached.”

“We have crossed, salted, and burned that bridge, Marley.”

“The one you’re holding is Mercutio, the red one is Juliet, the retriever is Pip, and the fluffy one on your lap is Lucie, after Lucie Manette.”

Remus’ jaw went slack. “They’re named after book characters?” he asked in a small voice.

“Yep.”

“Oh, no.” He reached out and pulled Juliet and Pip into his arms for a moment. “Oh, no, you all have to come home with me now. The next question is…would I ever do drag? Probably not, but I looked hot as fuck in eyeliner, so do with that what you will.”

“Which video was that?”

“It was the fear pong one, which I played with my fiancé and my friends James and Lily!” His voice pitched up as he turned to talk to Mercutio. “I did, buddy! It was so fun! Yes, it was!”

“Remus. Questions.”

“Right. What’s one of my weirdest or funniest fan encounters? There was this one lady, she was like forty-something, and she came up to me while I was at the post office and asks ‘are you Remus Lupin?’ and I said, ‘yes, that’s me’ and she’s like ‘from the Gryffindor Lions?’ and I said yes again and then she went—” He narrowed his eyes and nodded his head slowly. “—‘I knew you were gay. Good for you, kiddo’ and then left. It was the weirdest fucking thing, especially considering I had played, like, one game with the team by that point.”

“Are you serious?” Marlene asked.

“Totally honest. I never saw her again, either.” Juliet put her paws on the front of his Lions hoodie and began licking the edge of his jaw. “Hey, sweet girl, thank you for the kisses. Can I grab another question? No? Okay, we can stay here.”

Pip began yipping and Mercutio wiggled out of Remus’ hold, launching himself at the other dog with a tiny growl.

“Mercutio, no!” Remus gasped, scooting Juliet aside so he could put the two puppies under his arms. His hands were big enough to almost cover their whole bellies. “We’re not here to start fights, you two. Apologize.” They turned their heads to lick his cheeks. “I didn’t mean apologize to me, but okay. You’re so soft and warm, what the hell?”

“Next question?”

“What’s the craziest rumor I’ve heard about myself? A solid group of people thought I asked to be on the team, which isn’t true. I didn’t even know people were considering it until James and Lily’s wedding. Coach wanted it to be a surprise while he cleared it with the organization.” Remus shook his head and slowly petted Lucie as she napped on his thigh. “Is there a celebrity I’ve met that left me starstruck? Ha! Yes. There was a fundraiser a few months ago and Sam Neill was there, which I didn’t know until I turned around and he was about two feet away.”

“What did you do?”

Remus laughed and turned faintly pink. “Um, I made a sort of squeaking noise and he kinda chuckled, which was mortifying in and of itself. He goes, ‘hi, I’m Sam’ and I nodded because duh, he’s Sam fucking Neill, and then I mumbled something about Jurassic Park and he smiled and said, ‘son, you’re blocking the water’ and I just about died on the spot.”

“Did anyone see you?”

“Sirius was standing next to me the entire time and silently laughing his ass off. I saw them talking later, and when were about to drive home he hands me this napkin and it has Sam Neill’s autograph on it.”

“He didn’t,” Marlene gasped.

Remus nodded. “He did.”

“That’s the smoothest move I’ve ever heard of.”

“It was incredible.” Juliet waddled closer and nudged a red ball out from under Remus’ knee, which he picked up and tossed before taking out another question. “Do I appreciate when fans come up to me in public or is it annoying? Oh, it’s never annoying. It’s a little weird if I’m eating lunch somewhere or running errands and someone tries to sneak a picture, though. I love all the fans and it’s super fun talking to everyone, so please just come over and say hello instead of failing to be sneaky while I’ve got pizza grease on my face.”

“Even if you’re on a date?”

Remus snorted. “Okay, well, use some common sense. Pip—babycakes, stop trying to eat the questions. There we go.” He settled the puppy into his lap and rolled the ball for Juliet again. “In a movie about my life, who would I want to play me and Sirius?” He paused and looked at the camera. “I would want us to play ourselves, but only because neither of us can act and it would be so fucking funny to make the absolute worst movie.”

“Come on,” Marlene groaned.

“I’m being a hundred percent honest right now! I think it would be hilarious. We’d be terrible.” Juliet pawed at his arm insistently until he grabbed the ball, but she wouldn’t let it go and they ended up playing tug-of-war despite the fact that she had no traction on the floor and kept sliding around. “Aren’t you a feisty one, sweet girl! What is the most memorable moment of my life that I want to cherish forever? This. Right here, right now.”

“Really?”

“I have two dogs on my lap, one under my arm, and the other slobbering all over my hand. This is the best possible place to be. Wait, hang on a second.” Remus carefully lifted Lucie up and laid down, settling her on his abdomen as the other three clambered over to flop on him. “Oh, yeah, this is the peak of my entire life.”

“You’re not going to say your engagement? Maybe the day you started playing for the Lions?”

“Nope. The engagement was incredible and one of my favorite memories for sure, but I was shaking in my skates.”

“Just read the next question.”

“Okay! What’s my go-to karaoke song?” He hummed for a moment, then laughed as Lucie scooted up to rest her head under his chin. “I think it’s probably ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ by Whitney Houston. Lily and I did a duet of that a year or so ago, and it rocked.”

Pip began gnawing on the cuff of his sweatshirt. “Pip,” Marlene scolded; her foot appeared in frame until Remus waved her off with a smile.

“It’s okay, he can chew if he wants to. It’s an old sweater anyway, and it’s not even mine!” He scratched behind Pip’s ears. “No, it’s not, peach-a-keen! You can go nuts with that as long as you’re cozy. What is…my favorite behind-the-scenes Lions moment? Our groupchat, no contest.”

“Does it have the whole team?”

“Most of us, yeah. You have to earn your spot.” Remus looked over at the camera and Lucie put her head on his neck. “Looks like I’ve been banned from turning my head now, huh?”

“Are you comfortable?”

“Marley, there are very few things that would make me happier than I am right now. I’m being slowly crushed by puppies and I get to cuddle them for free.” He reached blindly into the question jar. “This is a two-part question. Do I prefer big dogs or small dogs, and how is Hattie doing? I love all dogs, but I think I prefer big ones because they’re always so much fun, and I don’t feel like I’m accidentally going to break them if I move wrong. Hattie’s doing well! She’s almost eighty pounds and she’s at home with Sirius right now, probably getting snuggled within an inch of her fuzzy little life.”

“That’s the dream right there.”

“Tell me about it. Alright, sorry ladies and gents, but I have to sit up to get to the questions.” All four puppies made noises of protest when he started sitting up and he sighed, eyebrows pitching upward. “I know, I know, it’s really hard. Here, how about we…” Remus carefully gathered them until he held all four against his chest; their tiny faces looked out over his forearms and he placed a kiss on each of their heads. “Much better.”

“Can you get to the jar?”

It took a bit of maneuvering, but he managed to reach in. “Do you want to read it?” he asked Mercutio as the puppy tried to bite the slip. “No? Okay. What is my favorite thing about playing on the same team as my fiancé? That is an excellent question. My favorite thing is that we finally have the same schedule, so we can build in time to hang out more easily. It was hard to do that when we were doing different things.”

Pip yawned and the entire camera crew ‘awww’ed; Remus made a soft noise and nuzzled his floppy ear.

“I adore you,” he murmured. “I really do. Last question: What is my advice to those who want to follow their dreams? Oh, jeez.”

“You can take a minute to think.”

Remus crossed his legs and lifted his knees up so he could hug all the puppies at once while still looking at the camera. “The only reason I got big and strong is so that I can hold four puppies at once. Just thought people should know that. Uh, my advice to those who want to follow their dreams is to persevere. I never in a million years thought that I would get to play on a professional hockey team, but I worked really hard to overcome my injury and stay connected to the sport because I love it. If there’s something you love, don’t be afraid to hold on to it.”

“Wise words,” Marlene remarked. “Do you want to tell the fans where they can find the puppies?”

“At my house,” Remus joked. “But if that doesn’t work, they are up for adoption at Friendly Paws Animal Shelter, which is just south of downtown Gryffindor and has tons of adorable friends like these guys. Can I call Sirius real quick?”

“Sure,” Marlene laughed.

Remus gingerly lowered Lucie into his lap and pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialing a quick number before putting it on speakerphone and setting it down to pick her up again. “Re?” Sirius sounded confused. “Aren’t you still with Marlene?”

“Yeah.”

“…did something happen?”

“Nope, all good. Can we get another dog?”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line. “Marlene, what did you do?”

“It’s just an interview!” she called.

“What kind of interview?”

“Baby, they gave me puppies,” Remus said gleefully, burying his face in Lucie’s fluff for a moment. “Like, really good puppies.”

A long-suffering sigh came through the phone. “How many are you holding?” Remus hesitated. “Sweetheart, how many dogs are currently in your arms?”

“Four.”

“Holy shit, Marlene! You gave him four dogs?!”

“They named them, too,” Remus added. “Pip, Juliet, Lucie Manette, and Mercutio. Baby, they named him Mercutio.”

“This was a recipe for disaster.” Despite his protests, Sirius sounded intrigued. “How old are they?”

Remus glanced up at Marlene. “They’re all six to eight months old,” she said.

Sirius blew out a slow breath. “So they’re babies.”

“They’re all up for adoption.”

“We have Hattie already.” Sirius was wavering. “But…she might possibly need a friend. Maybe.”

“You already love these dogs and you haven’t even seen them,” Remus said with a grin.

“The names are perfect! What was I supposed to do?”

“I’m going to sign the video off and then call you back, okay?”

“Okay. Don’t let go of the dogs until I get there, please.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. Love you!”

“Love you, too.”

Once the call ended, Remus faced the camera with a smile. Juliet and Pip had already fallen asleep. “Thanks for tuning in, Lions! Be sure to like and subscribe for more content. Endless thanks to Marlene McKinnon for allowing me to spend an hour holding tiny dogs. Have a great day!”

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bangtanloverboys · 4 years ago

Text

drabble marathon masterlist

⟹ link to main masterlist

challenge: complete 30 drabble prompts by june 13th, 2021

all prompts provided by @btsghostiewritersnet

completed may 25th, 2021

kim seokjin

summer sun | fluff; gender neutral reader | prompt: seasons

➵ summer vacation has started and you are ready to soak up the sun

i latte you | fluff, humor; female reader | prompt: soulmate au

➵ seokjin knew one thing about his soulmate from his tattoo, and it was that you had a very long and very specific coffee order

practical magic | fluff, humor; gender neutral reader | prompt: “i haven’t slept in three days, is it that obvious?”

➵ plagued with nightmares and unable to get a full night’s rest, your friend recommends you a metaphysical shop to help you find a solution

exposure therapy | fluff; female reader | prompt: meet-cute

➵ going on a ferris wheel as a way to get over your fear of heights alone, may not have been the best idea

min yoongi

the wedding painter | fluff; gender neutral reader | prompt: “do you take constructive criticism?”“i only take cash”

➵ you were close to finishing your current clients’ painting when you get interrupted by the best man, who has a certain idea for you

any other name | fluff, slice of life, comfort; trans male reader | prompt: without a name to myself, i still revolve around you

➵ yoongi + breakfast + an annoying nickname = the best morning you could think of

quiet as a mouse | humor, suspense; male reader | prompt: character a and character b are both trying to break into the same place on the same night by accident, only to be chased by the police upon meeting and having to hide in a closet/cupboard/etc together until they leave

➵ get in, get the stuff you wanted, get out. that was your plan. easy, plain, and simple. hard to mess up. only you were just lucky enough to find out someone else had the same idea of breaking in to the same place you did

accidentally in love | fluff; male reader | prompt: fake dating

➵ for years, everyone told you and yoongi that you should date. both of you tired of the comments, decided to fake a relationship and plan a break up to prove to them wrong. only now you’re starting to think they were right

jung hoseok

safe space | fluff; male reader | prompt: “you make me feel safe”

➵ you’ve yet come out to your best friend, now you think you’re ready to

different ways to love | fluff, comfort; gender neutral reader | prompt: types of love

➵ you had a rough day today, and all you need is a hug from your boyfriend

emotional support | angst/comfort; female reader | prompt: character a gets emotional easily. character b does not. a catches b crying alone and realizes that they never learned how to comfort b since they were usually the one getting comforted

➵ your long time friend and roommate has always been there for you; helping you through all rough patches of life. but you quickly realize that you don’t know how to help him back

the color of regret | angst, hurt no comfort; male reader | prompt: a future without you is a world without color, filled with monochrome coldness

➵ hoseok knew he wanted to see the world in color, but at the same time he feared it because he knew where he looked, he wouldn’t find it. that it until he met you and has to come to terms with what he hates about himself

kim namjoon

let’s be friends | fluff; female reader | prompt: college au

➵ you’re cute, he’s cute; you’re both a bit bored, why don’t you make out with your new friend?

handsome stranger | fluff, humor; male reader | prompt: mutual pining

➵ you’ve got it bad for the cute guy that frequents your library, little do you know that he just might return the feeling

it’s a long story | fluff; female reader | prompt: “i’ve waited far too long”

➵ cursed with immortality, namjoon has loved and lost a lot of things. but what happens when he finds something he thought was long lost?

so show me (i’ll show you) | fluff, humor; gender neutral reader| prompt: i do believe your galaxy

➵ you finally get the moment you’ve been dreaming of your entire life: the oppotunity to talk to your idol - your bias - kim namjoon. unfortunately, you get a little starstruck

disaster caretaker | fluff, humor; gender neutral reader | prompt: character a gets sick and character b insists on taking care of them. character b is really clumsy and messes everything up but a doesn’t care because they are just glad b is there

➵ you didn’t have the heart to send your boyfriend away when he took time out of his day to take care of you, no matter how bad he was at it

park jimin

the chopin compromise | fluff; female reader | prompt: enemies to lovers

➵ jimin has had it with you and your loud ass music, he finally snapped

flower flirting | fluff; male reader | prompt: language of flowers

➵ jimin had finally worked up the nerve to go to the tattoo parlor across the street from his flower shop, wanting to get a couple of his favorite flowers tattooed. only he wasn’t prepared for the cute tattoo artist that was you

summer nights | fluff, angst; female reader | prompt: “just don’t leave me yet”

➵ as the days grew colder, you weren’t ready to say goodbye to your dear human friend

not kitten around | fluff, humor; gender neutral reader | prompt: character a is allergic to animals. character b comes home, but their hoodie is wiggling suspiciously

➵ jimin knows you’re up to something, because he doesn’t just sneeze out of nowhere

live laugh love | humor; male reader | prompt: roommate au

➵ new apartment meant you got a whole new place to decorate. but you and your roommate have some creative differences

kim taehyung

lips of stone | angst; female reader | prompt: inspired by pygmalion and galatea

➵ you were the most beautiful thing taehyung had ever laid eyes on, he wanted nothing more than to love you and be loved by you. but alas, you were only a stone creation, modled by his hands

hot friend problems | fluff, humor; gender neutral reader | prompt: bed-sharing

➵ both exhausted from driving all day, taehyung can’t be bothered with sharing a bed. you on the other hand, are going through it

just one bite | smut, suspense; male reader | prompt: holiday, halloween

➵ not wanting to spend halloween this year alone, you decided to go to the club. luckily for you, you aren’t going to be alone for much longer

guardian angel | angst, comfort; genderneutral reader | prompt: don’t say you’re okay, because you aren’t

➵ despite never opening up to him, taehyung always knew exactly what to do to help

jeon jungkook

caught red-handed | fluff; female reader | prompt: character a and character b have been rivals for as long as their friends can remember. one day, someone catches them holding hands

➵ you thought you were being cautious, but when you get a call from your best friend it throws that whole plan out the window

fate is funny like that | fluff; gender neutral reader | prompt: because all of this is not coincidence

➵ someone out there is laughing at you, because you can’t stop being able to make a fool of yourself in front of the same stranger

butterfly prince | fluff, suspense; female reader | prompt: magic/fantasy au

➵ you were confused what a strangely dressed man was doing in the middle of nowhere, it wouldn’t hurt to investigate

the promposal | fluff; male reader | prompt: sports au

➵ with senior prom just around the corner, you figured now would be a good time to ask your boyfriend out to it. only you wanted to treat jungkook to something special at his next home game

#bts x reader #bts masterlist

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chonkychornes · 4 years ago

Text

Stay Part Eight-The End

Sometimes, everything does wrap up in a pretty bow. And those who deserve it, finally get what’s coming to them.

Dark Steve (really just a fuck boi, dickhead)

Bucky Barnes x reader

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

*Thanks everyone. This was a lot of fun.*

It’s been three years since Captain America first propositioned you, but it seems like a lifetime away. Things have calmed down around the compound, but word did get out and people took sides. Mostly yours, but the ones who didn’t came around really quick when Nat told them the truth.

You and Bucky were married in a very small, very private ceremony last year. The fact that you’re returning from a mission today, on your anniversary should really upset you, but you have big news. The fact that you had to run the mission with Steve annoys you.

He’s been making snide comments the entire time trying to get under your skin and pull you back under that cloudy haze of self-doubt that you managed to pull yourself out of. Bucky helped. Nat helped. Therapy really helped.

Mostly he’s pissed at you because you “accidentally” kicked him in the nuts, hard, when you were fighting off a Hydra agent. It was a mistake you had said as he writhed on the floor. He always underestimated you.

Safe and secure back on the quinjet, Steve tried to talk to you. He started by congratulating you on your anniversary. You said nothing. He tried to apologize again for everything that had happened between the two of you. You kept your mouth shut. But when he tried to come on to you, for “old times sake”, you flipped on the coms with base and let them hear everything.

“We could set this baby on autopilot and have some fun like we used to,” he says as he flips on the autopilot and turns to look at you.

“You’re disgusting and I’m a happily married woman,” you sneer at him. “I don’t need to go anywhere else, I am more than satisfied.”

“You’re a whore.”

You turn slowly to look at him and when a crackling voice comes over the speaker, “Knock him on his ass, sweetheart,” Steve’s eyes go wide.

Unbuckling your own seat belt, you punch him once, twice, three times before his nose begins to bleed. “You can’t take me, you never could.” He’s taunting you and you smile.

“I was holding back.”

He lunges at you, but you deftly dodge away and he looks surprised. You always let him beat you in the gym, always let him be the stronger Avenger, always let him be the man to save you; not anymore.

With your fists balled up, you bring them up and punch him directly in his stupid, fake patriotic face. It was bleeding red. The force of the impact had made his face go white. And you hoped with everything in you that it would bruise blue as he lay on the cold hard steel of the quinjet floor.

“Stay down,” you command and even though he doesn’t, he doesn’t resume his seat in the pilot’s chair next to you. He stays in the back and remains quiet.

When you land at the compound, only Nat has come out to greet the two of you but she only offers you a smile.

“We’re done,” she tells Steve flatly and walks away without another word. To his credit, he looks as if his world has collapsed around him and you wonder if he truly cared for her.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you walk into the compound and find your love, your life, in your quarters with a book in his hands and laying on the couch.

“So, how was the first mission back?” Bucky asks with a rueful smile as he cranes his neck to turn and look at you.

“Uneventful,” you laugh as you drop your bag and walk into the bedroom to strip out of your uniform.

“Did you knock him down a peg? Or two?”

“I don’t know about that, but Nat-”

He nods, “I helped her move all her stuff today.”

“Did you know before we left?” You ask as you step into the bathroom and turn on the shower.

“No, she decided this morning,” he tells you. “She was determined.”

You’re silent for a bit as your husband begins to shed his own clothes and gently pushes you into the shower.

“And you? Are you still determined?”

Bucky side-eyes you for a moment and sighs, “I am. I’m done fighting other people’s battles. I know we’re doing well here, but I’m ready to do it on a smaller level.”

“But the NYPD? Babe, it seems like it’s more dangerous than what we already do.”

“Maybe, but we know that I’m more than slightly indestructible,” he reminds you with a smile.

You begin to wash off the dirt and grime from you time away and Bucky eases into you from behind, taking you on here in the shower, marking your skin with his lips and teeth. It doesn’t take long before your combined moans fill the room, mingling with the steam as you both fall apart together.

Cleaning each other up and making plans for the evening you, Bucky suddenly smiles wide. “You said you had news for me.”

“I do. Do you want me to tell you now or over dinner?”

He drags you of the shower and presses a kiss to your neck as he wraps a towel around your shoulders. “Tell me now, please, doll?”

Sighing, you take his face in your hands and then slide them down his arms, grasping his hands, you bring them to the invisible swell of your abdomen. His eyes are trained on yours and they go wide for the merest of seconds. “Really?” You nod, with your bottom lip pulled taut between your teeth.

His gaze travels down your body and he drops to his knees. Pressing a little kiss just below your belly button you can hear him murmuring, “Ours, ours, ours.”

You pull him to stand and wrap your arms around his neck, “Let’s stay in tonight.”

@tinytotschafer

@iheartsebandchris

@vicmc624

@useless-creature-213

@thoughtstofaredhead

@supraveng

@iheartsebandchris

@quant-um-fizzx

#bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #marvel fic

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the-ghost-king · 4 years ago

Note

time for me to share a good™️ headcanon: will and nico love to steal each other’s clothes but their massive size difference makes it so obvious that they’re doing it. nico’s shirts are almost croptops on will and will’s sweaters are practically a dress on nico bc will is like 6’2 and nico’s like 5’5

Anon! Anon! Yes, you. You get it.

I don’t really know what you wanted as a response to this but I felt inspired for the first time in some 10 months so I gifted you a one shot below the “read more”. I’ll also upload it to Ao3 with a link in the notes...

Anyhow Anon, I hope you enjoy it! I got a little off topic but reflective fluff is always good!

If you would have asked Will what he wanted out of life as a kid you probably would have gotten an answer that was something like “a chance to actually go and live life as it was meant to be” or maybe “to be happy, pretty, and stupid”.

He didn’t dare to hope for more, demigods didn’t live long lives, and being involved in a major battle at thirteen didn’t do wonders in regards to establishing confidence in your survival. As for the “pretty and stupid” part of his answer, it wasn’t that Will had ever hated being smart, he just hated the disconnect different intelligence levels caused in peer groups and society; being smart was hard, sure for school purposes it was nice, but that intelligence means you’re constantly thinking and so often so much of the world seems so dull and petty. Will had been lucky enough to be blessed with decent looks, moving through the world was made easy in at least that regard, but he wished he could live without thinking so much because so often he could only see so much awful in the world.

Thirteen year old Will wouldn’t have dared hope for anything more, he wouldn’t have dared hope for anything else more than a decade or so of normal life beyond camp and a chance at an easy life for those few years. When fourteen year old Will got a depression diagnosis he wouldn’t say he was surprised, he would have been annoyed but he hadn’t really felt much of anything in years. (”Atypical depression” The doctor had said, “likely clinical”) A few different types of anti-depressants and a few months of therapy things started feeling okay, better at least. Fifteen came and went, he tried to go off the pills and didn’t quite get there, but his dose got lowered which Will supposed was nice.

In the months of early 16, Nico di Angelo stumbles into his life; exhausted and melting under the pressure of the universe, he makes friends with death. It isn’t much, but Will remembers him from when they were kids back before any major fights. He remembers hearing about Nico running off and he felt bad for not having made a continued effort to get to know him. He felt bad when he left after the Battle of Manhattan too, they’d prepped bodies for their departure together and Will had gotten hung up in the infirmary (he had been one of the last Apollo campers and he was the only one with medical training). In some ways, Will supposed he was making up for those lost years when he didn’t have time to befriend Nico as he would have liked, it made him feel like he was at least trying.

In the beginning things were undeniably rocky, Nico was constantly hooked to machines just so Will could guarantee he wouldn’t die overnight. Even on Nico’s first night in the infirmary he had struggles with sleep, the bed wasn’t comfortable enough and after trying a large variety of options Will had hauled Nico and all of his equipment out to the porch on the back of the infirmary and they slept there for those three days (which turned into two weeks), wrapped up in jackets and in a pile of blankets beneath camp’s fall skies.

Within a few months, they fell in love.

Okay listen, people can call Will ridiculous all they want- but love at first sight is real and he experienced it. He didn’t know it but the day he met Nico and looked into the dark browns of his eyes, he thought something about how his eyes looked like ash from the fireplace at Mama’s house, or how they looked like the soil that his windowsill plants grew from. If you would have asked Will what he thought of Nico the very first time they’d met, he would have told you something about how his eyes were “big, dark, and round like a baby cow”. What Will really meant is that Nico reminded him of the family ranch house he grew up in, he meant he looked like home.

At the time Will just hadn’t known that was what love felt like, but when he figured it out one day teaching Nico how to play Hold ‘em on the back porch of the infirmary with a light breeze and setting sun as they settles down for bed; he knew one thing, he didn’t want anything more than to make Nico happy and he hoped that he could be a part of that more than anything.

It took a little longer for Nico to come around, he had his own demons to battle. Internalized homophobia, even in small doses, is a real downer to say the least, let alone when you’re fighting demons you’ve manifested for some 15 years. The biggest struggle however, was probably in all honesty the fact that Nico was so goddamned oblivious. After spending years alone with limited human contact at best, and having spent so many years desperately wanting Percy to notice him, and being met with negative reactions, Nico didn’t know what love looked like anymore. How had he been supposed to know he was in love with Will?

There was a lot of subtle back and forth, would the other even be interested in a guy? It ended one day with an unplanned kiss followed by a declaration. Will called it the best mistake he ever made, neither of them really thought it was a mistake.

It was days like today that only proved that.

Will had woken up to Nico’s face on a pillow next to him. He’d fallen asleep with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and some of his smaller hairs had fallen loose in the night and now framed his peaceful face. The first rays of golden sunlight fell through accidentally left open curtains, and Will reached out to brush a stray piece of dark hair and place it behind Nico’s ear.

He woke up to a morning more beautiful than he would have ever hoped for at 13, and he would always be glad for that. He would always be grateful for how far he had come in not quite a decade. At just twenty-two he was 4 years into medical school, and three years married to Nico and he truly believed he was one of the happiest men in the world simply because he made Nico happy.

In time, Nico too would wake up.

First with a huff, and then a grumbling noise of annoyance as he rubbed his face with his arm as though trying to block out light before half-asleep Nico seemed to accept his fate and wake up fully.

“Good morning”

“How long have you been up?”

“Awhile”

Nico made a knowledgeable humming sound, perhaps he was just acknowledging Will’s response or perhaps he was saying ‘of course’.

A few kisses, a short conversation, and a couple of “I love you”’s later, they got out of bed.

Nico's was wearing Will's high school hoodie that was a bit too short on Will anymore like it was a dress on him. The hoodie went down to Nico’s knees, he's got his own black shorts on because Will's just fall off unless he ties them really really tight. He's got black socks pulled up almost to his knees, there’s a little gap between the end of Nico’s shorts and the start of his socks. The hoodie goes down an inch or two past his short pockets, and he goes outside to grab the mail with a pair of unlaced combat boots on his feet. He's got his skull ring on his middle finger of his right hand, and his left hand holds a simple wedding band which glint in the light as he opens the front door. His hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, some of it is up some of it is down, there's tons of flyaway hairs which frame his face since he hasn’t fixed it sense getting out of bed.

Call it a cliché, but Nico looks like Heaven personified without even trying.

Sure, everyone looks nice in a suit or a dress, but how many people can roll out of bed without doing their hair wearing a decade old hoodie and look like they belong in a magazine spread?

Will is wearing one of Nico's looser shirts, on Nico it comes down past his hips and a little onto his thighs, on Will is he so much as lifts his arms a centimeter it reveals his hip bones. He doesn’t really mind, he kind of likes it to be entirely honest. Will can remember being just a few inches shorter than he is now and fitting fairly comfortably in Nico’s clothes at the time, they had never worried whose clothes they grabbed back then. Nico had finished his growth spirt and Will had thought he was done only two inches taller, it didn’t matter whose clothes were whose because everything fit well enough.

That wasn't quite the case now, Nico had stayed at his casual 5"5 while Will had shot up and extra six inches to 6"2 and ruined his own chances of sharing clothes. Such as right now he was sure he was wearing his own sweats, because he had specifically had to get a pair last night despite Nico's having been more accessible. Anytime he's actually managed to get a pair of Nico's pants comfortably on in the last few years, result in him wearing pants that are more like compression shorts or capris than pants.

Will was just happy he could wear some of Nico's larger shirts and hoodies still, the fact that Nico preferred to sleep in lots of clothes and typically baggy clothes meant Will had some options when it came to wearing his husbands stuff.

Will has also managed to steal a pair of Nico's socks, they're a taller pair on Nico (he buys winter wear so often because he's cold always) but on Will they gather a little awkwardly around his ankle. Will doesn't usually wear socks but they had gone to bed without the heat on and apparently the cold had set in over night and you could definitely feel it on their apartment floors.

The clothes would be a bit stretched out from him, it was something Will can remember being worried about after his second growth spurt, but Nico doesn't mind, He's assured Will of this time and time again, he says something about "aesthetic" and "alternative". Will doesn't really know, he's never cared much for fashion but he'll take Nico's word on it.

The truth, although it's something Nico would only admit in their bed late at night when it was so dark you could barely see his face, and arguably a little drunk as well, was that he actually enjoyed the way the clothes fit better after Will wore them. He found some sort of comfort in the way the shoulders of his shirts would be just a little too wide on him, it was one of those small acts of love, it wasn't one Will entirely understood but both of them got their own sort of enjoyment out of Will stretching out Nico's sleeping clothes some so they went with it.

Will turns his attention from Nico walking out the door to the coffee pot on the countertop.

Will doesn't like coffee much, he likes the social aspect of getting a cup more. Nico had introduced him to it, he’d been drinking it for years by the time they’d left camp. It reminded him of home and he grew to like it for such reasons, and although Nico would consume just about anything with enough caffeine in it Will needed creamer to enjoy coffee to any amount.

They were both honestly probably more tea people, but they never seemed to remember to buy any. Will will try to remember to write it down on the grocery list later, but Nico has walked back into the kitchen, climbed up on the counter next to Will and now he is looking at him; and Nico is always a distraction that's worthy of taking, Will will definitely forget to write down tea for their grocery list and the week will start over with more coffee in the house and no tea.

Nico’s fingers grip the countertop and he swings his legs a little bit back and forth from where he sits on the black granite, his white gold rings set against the counter in contrast. Will's worn out blue hoodie looks grey with age, the little printed letters are cracked and peeling on the back of it, his last name can still be read in white though.

Will knows the cliché about your lover wearing your name is often unhealthy and overly possessive, but he likes seeing Nico with his name because it feels like a gift. It’s like he’s given Nico a part of himself and Nico accepted it with pride, and Will loves that, he loves him and Nico being little pieces of each other.

Nico is smiling at him, and leans just so, Will turns in acknowledgment of the gesture, and moves so he’s standing to the left of Nico. Nico crosses his legs at the ankle and leans towards Will laying his head against Will where his neck and shoulder meet. Will leans forward and buries his face into Nico’s hair, comfortable and a little sleepy still.

"Coffee?"

"Mhmm."

"Good."

Will isn't the best cook, for fucks sake he's not even someone who could be considered a good cook, but he can handle this. Nico taught him the basics when they were still living at camp, Will failed every time, he ended up going home for a short period for Christmas break and begging his mom "teach me how to make eggs" he left off the bit about impressing Nico but he knows she knew. When he came back Nico had just smiled at him, "you practiced huh?"

Will hadn't gotten better at making much else, some eggs, toast, coffee and he could boil water now too! He had burnt lots of stuff over the years, plastic containers in the microwave, a plastic ladle they had on the stove top, at least 100 failed attempts at grilled cheese. Will was honestly just happy he hadn’t blown up any microwaves since he was a kid...

Nico had come home to many of Will's failed attempts at making him various things, sometimes the food was underdone other times it was bits of inedible char. Will did try, he really did, but the heat was always too high or he would end up distracted, or he would use sugar on accident instead of salt. Will did actually try, but his best attempts still often left something to be desired, so he often was the one doing dishes.

Most notably one time Nico had come home to him attempting to pan-frying some fish.

It had been supposed to be a surprise, it was Nico's birthday, and Will had had the day off of class even though Nico hadn't. He figured he would have surprised him; it had been back in their first apartment, not quite as nice as this one. A cheap tiled cream counter top that Nico had literally cringed at when seeing it the first time, the cabinets had somehow been cheaper than a set from IKEA and it had become an inside joke to them.

He had walked in the apartment to see smoke coming off the pan with a bit of flame still coming off it, and a large piece of charred fish stuck to the bottom of one of their frying pans.

"Hey dumbass, what did you do in here?"

People thought they were an odd couple, Will could see that. The whole parallel people drew between light and dark and optimism and pessimism and such between them, none of those people were really correct though. Will and Nico were more similar than they were different. At the end of the day it didn’t really matter what people said, Will liked Nico, he loved him in all honesty- he'd never heard the word "dumbass" said with so much affection.

Nico was hard for most people to read, years along had left him struggling emotionally in some manner; he did his best to hide most of his emotions, cloak them so heavily that sometimes they were even unrecognizable to Nico himself.

The most obvious example of this in regards to Nico was how "shut up" often meant "I love you", "idiot" was synonymous with "darling" in some ways. Don't get Will wrong, Nico could be very affectionate, but pet names came with hesitation for him in the early days; Should he use Venetian, Italian, or English? Masculine words that were romantic had been hard for him to say as well... But everyday he grew and got better, and Will was proud of him every time he called Will “dear” and didn’t hesitate before or after.

Nico had started masking his emotions at some point during his time at Westover, whatever he had done there hadn’t been much more than how much the average person masked their feelings, but when he started training with Minos Nico had doubled down on keeping his emotions secretive. Minos hadn’t been kind or safe in any sense of the word, emotions were what he used to manipulate Nico all that time, it was no wonder Nico developed such a strong sense of apathy towards anything overtime.

Nico could be affectionate, he could be the most loving person to ever exist. Nico’s emotions were sort of like secrets, if you stayed awake late enough into the night you would only come to know him then, such was the nature of him. He often whispered so quietly his wants and needs into the dark, there was some sense of fear tied to Nico’s vulnerability and he handed off his worries each night to the stars soft glow. Nico often refused to talk openly during the day, but at night apologies and truth always came, he had known what he had wanted earlier he had simply been to afraid of the rejection to acknowledge it, Will is glad that with the years the worst of such things is over; it is unlikely to be something Nico will ever fully grow out of, such is the nature of humanity, but progress is a virtue.

Such times not only resulted in Nico’s acknowledgement of his wants and faults, but also garnered the most affection from Nico. Nico couldn’t always communicate in an effective manner verbally, which was still a process they were working on, but he did his best. Nico’s act of love was like that of a small bird, he gave you small things that seemed insignificant until you realized he had only ever told you such things. Will fell in love with him for it, it wasn’t just about the way he would describe the wallpaper in his childhood bedroom, it was the fact that nobody knew anything else about Nico’s childhood bedroom.

Will had never truly understood the concept of “touch starved” until he met Nico, he had known the definition sure, but he had never truly witnessed it. Nico never asked for touch, but it was the way he leaned into it, the way he sought it out; pressing up against Will’s hand like a cat stretching trying to get a little more contact somehow, trying to make the touch last just a bit longer so he could savor it properly. It was literally starving in some manner, starving for contact that wasn’t a goodbye or a hit, just for wordless contact. When he grew comfortable he gave affection fully, there was a joy in holding Nico’s hand, knowing that he felt safe enough not to worry about the effect a few extra seconds of prepping for a fight that holding hands would add.

Nico didn’t show affection in big ways, and that was more than okay with Will; they were laid back in comparison to most, he’d have sought the comfort of placing soap bubbles on each others head in the tub a hundred times over a night on the town. Nico’s affection was something quiet and almost secretive, unknown to anyone it wasn’t directed at; it was the way he would lead Will out of a room to kiss him, or the quiet way he whispered “I love you” into Will’s ear when in public.

Will supposes in the early days “shut up” became “I love you” in order to avoid being seen as weak in some manner, in order to avoid acknowledging what he really wanted to say and having Will not respond in kind. Will didn't mind, they weren't an overly affectionate pairing- banter was common, almost everything they did was turned into some sort of game, the term "boys will be boys" definitely applied to their relationship of 3am pillow fights, late night discussions about what order the Christmas ornaments had to go up on the tree in, and whenever they wrote thesis papers for living room debates over the best Disney villain.

Will honestly preferred it that way, he preferred having the little moments reserved for solely them. He preferred the aversion to sappy clichés, the way a lover could say your name with exasperation and a smile that meant the whole world. He had seen what some other couples had, quick kisses in lines at cafes, holding hands across the table, and calling each other pet names they’d made up that were somehow ten times worse than the original- and Will didn’t want that.

It wasn’t that what those couples had wasn’t love, it just wasn’t love in a way Will could understand, it wasn’t love Will felt from those sort of exchanges. He didn’t understand the idea of “butterflies in your stomach”, love wasn’t nerves, love was like coming home after a long day, love was the way someone could say your name like it was divine, love was the way someone would smirk at you when you were missing the point, love was not being afraid to cry in front of them, it was knowing you could show up to them with any problem and instead of leaving you they would research the ins and outs of it in all their entirety.

The coffee maker makes a sound, Nico lifts his head of off Will’s body and the deep browns of his eyes are like the freshly turned dirt of fields in planting season, and Will feels like there’s a garden growing in his chest that Nico feeds. Nico sits straight on the counter and pulls his legs up and sits cross legged on the counter as he pulls out his hairband, and runs his fingers through his hair before pulling it back up without all the flyaways.

Will moves towards the coffee machine, pours it into two cups, and sets one on the counter beside Nico before making his way to the fridge to grab creamer. Nico’s watching him right now, but there’s no need for talking; there will be talking in a minute. Talking about Will’s schedule for the week, talk of whatever project Nico is working on right now, talk of what they should do for dinner the rest of the week, little sweet nothings, and eventually they’ll make their way to the couch to watch some tv and maybe later in the day they’ll play some sort of game or something as well.

So yeah, maybe "light" and "dark" were polar opposites and some people would have walked out on the word dumbass rather than immediately loving it, but Will liked it- everyday was a game of sorts, a new adventure, all with Nico who he loved. Coming home from work wasn’t necessarily about the place Will lived but knowing Nico would be there for him to see was the point of going home, home was wherever Nico was and some small part of Will hoped eternity was real in some manner.

Will remembered when Michael had died thinking nothing could possibly get worse, and in some ways he was kind of right; he had ended up with some sort of demigod style fairy tale ending with the man he loved, and that was ten times better than anything fifteen year old Will would have hoped for.

#solangelo #Nico di angelo #Will solace #pjo #hoo

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xmint-conditionx · 4 years ago

Text

☆ flanked ☆ ch1 | knj

(verb) flank -

guard or strengthen (a military force or position) from the side.

attack down or from the sides, or rake with gunfire from the sides.

☆ pairing: soldier!namjoon x widow!reader; namjoon x fem!reader ☆ word count: 4.7K ☆ summary: you’re a recently widowed military spouse who is stationed at camp walker, south korea. you’re dealing with the tragedy of your husband’s recent death, and in the process, you accidentally meet a k-pop idol you’ve had a crush on for years. who knew you’d both be at the same post while he’s doing his compulsory service? who knew he’d be so damn nice? who knew it would be impossible to get him out of your head? ☆ warnings: angst, mentions of death, grieving, feelings of guilt, brief description of sexual acts. ☆ a/n: hey everyone c: glad to be putting this gem back up into the world. please do let me know if you want to be added to a taglist for this, i’d be happy to oblige! this was one of the first things i’ve written, and so i hadn’t quite found my style yet, but it’s not that bad??? i pretty much have the whole story planned out, but i want to take my time with it. this is my lil baby, and i wanna treat it right uwu this starts off with a lot of angst and tough emotions, but there will be eventual smut!!! huge thank you to my supportive spouse who is in the military and has helped out with some of the realism aspects of this story. hope y’all like it! enjoy!

- minty <3

It’s raining today. Again. The clouds hang low, like a weighted blanket covering your whole world. Aren’t those things supposed to help with anxiety? If only the clouds comforted you, maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to go to… therapy. The word stings in your brain. Another cruel joke of the universe: the un-comforting weighted cloud blanket, and the need for you to go to therapy to ease your pain about a dead therapist.

The light of the day is beginning to leave as you walk towards the address the man had given you the day before. You really should have been nicer; he really didn’t mean to hurt you. And you really should have asked his name. Mentally kicking yourself, you vow that you’ll do it tonight. After all, this is the only other time you’ve left the house by yourself this week. It was nice to not have the Casualty Assistance Officer breathing down your neck for once. There has to be some good in that. Hell, this little outing might actually be helpful.

The old government building is dull, like both the sky and your feelings. If you died right now and were reincarnated into an object instead of a being, the building in front of you would probably be the best fit. Shades of brown and grey cover tired and worn brick. Government funding has tried its best to keep it presentable but truthfully, it’s barely holding on. It’s definitely seen better days. The more you think about the similarities, the more pathetic you feel, so you push on ahead and push the thoughts out of your mind. The door creaks as you walk in the cold and dark foyer and it all just... makes sense. As empty inside as you are. Jesus, you’ve never been this morbid. There are no lights on other than one at the end of one of the hallways, and you hesitantly step towards it. You don’t like the thought of what that light is going to expose.

As you reluctantly enter the beam of offensive fluorescent light, someone takes notice of you. Already? They’re walking towards you, hand extended. You’re busy blinking back at the new bright sensation as you reach your hand out to introduce yourself. After blinking back the harsh light, you can see the little folding chairs placed in a circle in the room. Great, you think, just like AA.

The man before you seems to be in his late 30s, a little on the short side, with a little bit of hair recession. As you finish your short bow to the man, he says in Korean “Yes, someone told us you might be joining us tonight.” as he sends a meaningful look over to one of the chairs in the circle. You follow his gaze to see the man from yesterday grinning up at you, dimples on full display, this time in civilian clothes. After sending you a goofy little wave, he pats the chair next to him and not so smoothly motions for you to sit there.

“Go ahead,” the older man says, “make yourself comfortable. We’ll be starting in a few minutes.”

You walk toward the empty chair, and take in how truly different he looks in plain clothes. His KATUSA uniform was extremely flattering to his large frame, but this is just downright cruel. The black beanie he’s sporting looks way too good on him. His short sleeved v-neck shirt is a little tight, revealing the finely defined shape of his chest and his arms. He catches your eyes lingering on his body, and you quickly look down as you feel a blush creep up. You tell yourself to just pretend nothing happened, and it’ll all be fine.

After you sit down, you open your mouth to ask for his name, but he does the same, your voices awkwardly echoing each other. Realizing what happened, your cheeks grow even warmer and you can’t help but turn away as you both share a laugh. You shake it off and give him your name, family first and individual second, attempting to at least make eye contact with him.

“Nice to officially meet you. I’m Sangbyeong Kim Namjoon, but please don’t feel the need to use titles or honorifics with me. We’re equals here as far as I’m concerned. I’m really glad you decided to come tonight.”

So, it is him. You can’t even begin to believe it. He looks so different than he did in the tour pictures you saw only a few years ago, but as you look up at him knowing what you know, it all falls into place. Some things for sure didn’t change one bit- his button nose, his deep and smoldering eyes, and the signature dimples really should have given it away. His smile is still just as genuine and reassuring and gleaming and... beautiful?

You immediately squish the thought and offer him back a tight smile. You’re not going to let him know you know who he is. It would probably only make him feel weird and you’ve already been so awful to him. You’re not going to allow yourself to make a big deal about this, and you’re definitely not going to allow yourself to... like him.

“Look,” you start, “I appreciate your concern. I... I just don’t think something like this will help me. At least not right now.” You sigh, studying your shoes as a distraction. Your hands busy themselves fiddling with your necklace. There’s no way you can be here sitting this close to Namjoon.

As if he can read your panicked thoughts, Namjoon leans in closer to you, so close you can feel his warm breath on your jaw, and with a hushed and more gravelly voice, he says, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Hell, I didn’t say anything for almost a whole month. It just... felt good to listen. You’re not going to be forced into anything. This is going to go at your speed and be what you’re comfortable with. I promise.” With that last sentence, he places his large, warm hand on your knee.

Shit. You suddenly feel your entire body ignite. What is this? A bolt of lightning rushes up your spine. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. No, this isn’t happening. Your legs begin to tingle. This can’t be happening; this is not allowed. You swallow hard.

You don’t want to be aroused. You straight up shouldn’t be aroused. This is messed up. Really messed up. You blink some sense back into yourself and cross your legs away from him which thankfully removes the cursed hand.

You’d imagined being touched by this man for a pretty considerable amount of time some years ago; you had filled your head with countless fantasies, knowing they’d never come true. You’d read countless imaginings of his other fans and admirers. This man had fueled so many hidden desires within you. You’d thought of his hands exploring your frame, his strong arms throwing you around, his plush lips leaving marks along your inner thighs...

Thinking of him had been your guilty little pleasure, even something your husband had liked to playfully tease you about. To actually have him here next to you in the flesh, though, was still somehow unfathomable. Why now, you mentally screamed to the god you didn’t believe in. The universe’s cruel jokes just won’t end, will they? What can you possibly even do about this? You can’t sit here and allow your panties to be wet when your husband hasn’t even been buried yet for fucks sake. God, you’re so ashamed. You’re just going to have to keep him at a polite distance. That’s your only option.

You don’t speak through the meeting. But Namjoon was right, it is kind of nice to hear other people’s stories. Even though it’s only been a week since you found out, there’s a lot of feelings and thoughts you can relate to with these people. You’ve found out why Namjoon comes to these meetings every week. That was a question you didn’t want to linger on, much less learn the answer to. You didn’t want to imagine him experiencing a loss like this. Even when you weren’t convinced it was really him, seeing that same pain in another’s eyes only made yours hurt worse.

One of Namjoon’s fellow soldiers had died in a training accident, and the whole fire team was there doing group therapy. They spent most of their time remembering the funny things he would do to cheer everyone up during their long ruck marches and their annoying and boring bouts of equipment cleaning. Private First Class Derek Williams was the goofball of the group, and he was definitely well loved. Namjoon’s eyes never fully lit up when everyone’s anecdotes hit their punchline.

As the meeting draws to a close and people begin filing out, the group leader comes over to the both of you and asks Namjoon how his thoughts have been over the past week. It’s interesting that the man takes special interest in Namjoon. He nods and just casually replies, “I keep thinking it should have been me instead.”

His relaxed confession is absolutely shocking. Why would he say that? The older man seems to be as surprised as you are.

“Namjoon-ah, please don’t say such things,” the man urges.

“I know how it sounds, I really do. I’m not going to do anything crazy, and I know it’s a pointless thought,” he shrugs. “It’s just how I’ve been feeling.”

The older man nods.

“Go in well-being, Namjoon. Please, call me if you need to.”

You find yourself walking out together. The sky is now fully dark and there’s an added chill in the air, urging you to pull your scarf up a little higher. At least it’s not raining anymore. It’s not usually this cold in Daegu at this time of year; you’re practically begging Spring to come. Although you’re in stride with each other, Namjoon feels like he’s a million miles away.

“Hey,” you begin, hoping to ease the tension. “I’m sorry about your friend. He sounded like a really nice guy.”

“Yeah, he was. Thanks. I’m sorry about your husband too. You seem to miss him a lot.”

“Yeah, I do. Part of me still doesn’t believe he can really be gone. I feel like I’ve been walking around in a daze for the past week. All the paperwork I’ve had to sign. All the logistics. It’s all a little overwhelming so I… just kind of shut down most of the time. Our dog is still looking for him around the house, too, which is probably the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Oh, shit. I couldn’t imagine. I have a dog too and... I don’t want to think about how confused they must be. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.”

You both stop walking, because you realize you’ve allowed him to walk you all the way to your car. He didn’t even ask.

“Speaking of my son… I... actually need to go walk him. He’s been inside all day and it’s finally stopped raining. Huskies need exercise... So...”

Namjoon lights up a little. “Do you walk him on post?”

“No actually, we go to Duryu Park. He likes the ducks that gather at the pond. Although they probably won’t be doing very much at this time of night.”

“Hey, why don’t we go together?” he asks, “It’s dark out and it’s not a good idea for you to be by yourself.”

“Excuse me?” you snap. He doesn’t know you’re a brown belt, but he sure is about to.

A flustered Namjoon begins stumbling over his words. “I’m just saying, you’re like really small and someone could easily—“

“Namjoon,” you laugh. “I think I can handle myself.”

“No, uh, what I’m trying to say is that there’s safety in numbers, you know? It would be difficult to fight off bad guys while keeping hold of your dog...” He has a good point. You’ve never walked Draco this late before. You don’t want to admit it, but your recent lesson in mortality has left you a little more than uneasy, especially now that Namjoon has made you think about it.

He continues his word vomit, mistaking your furrowed eyebrows for reluctance instead of consideration.

“Look, I’m sure you’re very intimidating but—“

Oh my god, you can’t take it anymore.

“Namjoon!” you exclaim and he finally, finally stops the verbal deluge. “Fine.”

He seems astonished. “Really?”

“Yeah, meet me by the bridge that leads to the little island in the middle of the pond in like... 30 minutes. We usually do two laps around the water. And...” you pause, “thanks.” You’re a little annoyed at how persistent he can be, but he is really considerate.

His eyes sparkle in the light of the street lamps and you notice his gaze linger on your pursed lips. He does a... weird little hop and finally fully smiles at you. You’ve forgotten how utterly striking his full smile can be. Jesus Christ, how many teeth does this man have? His cheeks have become even more round and his eyes shrink into little half moons. Your stomach does somersaults as you bask in the glow of his happiness. Ugh, not again.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon!” he says, hurrying away. You don’t notice him glance back at you, and that’s probably a good thing.

You get in your car and put your forehead against the steering wheel. Why can’t you just say no to this man?

___________________________

You walk up to the start of the bridge with your pup in tow, who is obviously very pleased to be outside and at his favorite park to boot. The street lamps don’t cover much, but you can just make out a leggy figure standing next to a small white fluff ball. You’d forgotten he said he had a dog too. As you get closer, you see he’s got the leash handle around his wrist, because both his hands are holding two white cups with steam pouring out of the top.

“What’s this?” you ask, as he extends one of the cups to you. Your dogs are busy sniffing each other, ears back and tails wagging.

“Hot chocolate! It’s really cold out and I noticed you shivering when we got out of the group therapy building and I was going to get you coffee but I didn’t know what kind you like or how you take it plus it’s late and caffeine might keep you up all night and I didn’t want to—“

“Namjoon,” you cut him off before he explodes. “Thank you.” you reply, taking a sip of the hot drink and relishing in how it warms you up. You look back up at the handsome man, who is beaming down at you, enthralled in your pleased reaction. Warmth is beginning to spread through your body, and as your eye contact with him deepens, you begin to wonder if it’s just the hot chocolate. You can’t help yourself. “You do know that there’s a lot of sugar in hot chocolate though, right?”

He furrows his eyebrows and panic soon consumes his face.

“Oh! Right! I’m sorry I—“

“Relax, I’m just teasing you. I’ll be fine, promise. And if I’m not and you end up keeping me up all night, I guess I’ll just have to kick your ass.” you deadpan, which takes more effort than usual because now, you’re picturing him… keeping you up all night.

He starts laughing and you can’t help but to join him. He has a good, hearty laugh, one that makes his entire face light up. It feels really good to be laughing with him.

“Oh!” he exclaims suddenly, “this is Moni!” gesturing down to the adorable American Eskimo at the end of the pink leash.

You squat down to formally introduce yourself to Moni. You let him sniff your hand as your dog takes the opportunity to sneak some kisses on your face.

“Bananas, stop!” you light-heartedly scold, but your pooch doesn’t get the message. He seems encouraged instead, and you are given no mercy by your big fluffy boy.

Namjoon just laughs at how adorably frustrated you are. After he’s had enough entertainment, he extends a hand and helps you back up. This is the first time you’ve touched skin to skin, and your body is keenly aware of it. His hands are softer than you thought they’d be, and really warm. With how cold it is, you wish you could keep holding onto his strong yet elegant hands. Even after he’s released you, a symphony of tingles play in your legs, betraying you once again.

“Shall we then?” Namjoon asks, tilting his head down slightly so he’s looking at you through his eyelashes. Why does he have to do that? He can’t look at you like that. It’s illegal. Not allowed. He’s torturing you, and surely he has to know that. Or is he oblivious? He’s probably not even trying, because he has no reason to. He doesn’t even need to try. Which is kind of the problem, because you can’t exactly tell him to stop being so damn hot.

You can only answer him by tugging on your leash with a “let’s go!”

Over your walk, you talk about favorite places to eat in town and the different attractions you’ve come to love during your stay here. He talks about one of his best friends who grew up here in Daegu, so he knows all of these nice little spots only a local would typically know. You don’t have to wait for him to say Yoongi’s name before you know who he’s talking about, bringing up a hint of stinging remorse at your secret. He says they’re still in contact as much as they can be, but it tends to be difficult when they were both doing their compulsory service. Yoongi had finished his obligation, and is back in Seoul working on music. For his time, he was stationed right outside of Seoul working with the Korean Military Police, so he never really had to totally put down his work. He talks about Yoongi like they’re brothers, and it’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen. Namjoon doesn’t even try to hide how much he misses his friend.

He asks about where you grew up, and the question is kind of startling. It’s not that you’re not wanting to tell him, but you’re surprised that he wants to know.

“I grew up in Georgia, in the United States. It’s in the Southeastern part of the country.”

“Ah okay, so you grew up close to Atlanta?” he asks, full of curiosity.

“Kind of! I was about a 4 hour drive from there. I grew up closer to the ocean.” you say, and notice his eyes light up when you mention the sea.

“There’s a guy in my unit,” he begins, “who did his training in Georgia. He said that there isn’t much there other than Atlanta...” he says, quickly noticing your bemused look. He catches himself and finishes, “but in hindsight he was likely biased.”

“He probably trained at Ft. Benning. If that’s the case, I don’t blame him for thinking that at all,” you say, “He’s actually kind of right, if that’s all of Georgia he got to see,” you continue, laughing a little.

“Well, what do you think of Georgia?”

“Hmmmm. I think I wouldn’t have wanted to grow up anywhere else. The area where I grew up was close to the beach, but there was also a lot of agriculture. My grandma even had a peach tree in her backyard. She’d let me go back there and pick a peach and eat it if I had behaved that day. Peaches are my favorite, so it was a pretty good motivator.”

“Georgia is known for their peaches, right?” he asks, but his tone tells you he already knows the answer to that. You had always thought people were exaggerating at how smart he is, but you can’t deny the fact any longer.

“Yeah, we’re even called the peach state. Peaches, pecans, sweet onions and peanuts all grow well there.” you say and he nods with understanding.

“So what about the town you grew up in?”

“The town was pretty small, my high school maybe had 500 people in it. But the bigger city by us was great. A lot of different types of people. A lot of good food. God, I miss southern food a lot.” you gasp, grabbing his bicep with your free hand, “Namjoon! You haven’t lived until you’ve had good collard greens!”

“Collard greens? I’ve never heard of that,” he says, scrunching up his eyebrows.

“It’s a side dish we eat down south. It goes with just about everything, but it’s best next to fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.”

“Macaroni and cheese…” he muses, letting the English words roll off his tongue, “I really want to try more American food. I’ve had plenty of hamburgers, but I want to try everything. PFC Williams always let me try his lunch if I asked him. He brought this thing called potato salad one day… that was an interesting experience.”

You sigh, “there’s much more to American food than just hamburgers and potato salad. Too bad there aren’t any real authentic American food restaurants here. Although, there is a Johnny Rockets on the other side of town. Is that where you get your hamburgers?”

“Yeah… it is. Chain restaurants are cheating though, right?”

“Yeah, basically. If you want real American food, you’ve got to get a real American to make it for you. I thought I really liked Korean food until I moved here. Americanized Koean food is not half as good as the real thing,” you assure him.

“I could have told you that,” he teases, giving you a light bump with his shoulder. “Do you have a favorite restaurant in town?”

You discuss the places you have come to love in Daegu, from restaurants to parks to shopping areas to museums. You both realize you enjoy art, although he prefers looking at it while you enjoy making it. The conversation ventures to Pollock and Monet and Van Gogh and you go on about how you just don’t get Picassos. He just lets you just rant about how much you hate his works for probably too long, until you’ve run out of breath and are forced to take a break.

“Wow, that bad huh? What did he ever do to you?” Namjoon chuckles.

“He destroyed my corneas with his kindergarten level bullshit, that’s what.” you snap, which only makes him laugh more.

“So it’s safe to say that you hate Banksy too, then?”

“No way!” you say, “Banksy is a genius!”

He just continues to chuckle, clearly amused. “I will never understand you, woman.”

“Are you trying to?” you quip before you can stop yourself, and his laughs die down. Oh, no. That was so direct. Way too direct. He’s got to know you’re into him now; he’d be a moron to not pick up on it. Your stomach is doing somersaults again, but not the good kind this time. You’ve known him for less than two days, so why did you think that was a good thing to say?

You chew your lip, worried of what he might be thinking. Or worse, what he might actually say. After an excruciatingly long silence, finally, it happens.

“Yes. I am.”

What does that even mean?! Your thoughts are beginning to spiral again, and thankfully, he continues, albeit way too nonchalantly.

“And honestly, it’s been really enjoyable to do.”

It’s been... enjoyable? Has he already forgotten how you met? This man must have a death wish if getting verbally murked by a strange woman in public was something he considered to be ‘enjoyable.’ You’re immeasurably grateful he isn't looking at you right now, because it’s nearly impossible to hide your astonishment.

“So…” he begins slowly, “I hope you’ll continue to let me.”

What do you even say to something like that? Namjoon is so much nicer than you ever expected, and that fact is only making things more difficult for you. You’ve had more enjoyment in this one walk than you’ve had this whole week, but there’s about a million different reasons why you should stay away from him. If you only could have met under different circumstances, this might be something you could explore. Honestly, you would still love to explore the possibilities with him, even here and now, but the thoughts of your husband are difficult to push away.

You recoil at that and curse yourself.

They shouldn’t be pushed away! It’s not fair to your husband or to his memory. It wouldn’t even be fair to Namjoon! You can barely give yourself a hundred percent right now, much less a new friendship. On top of everything, you’re going to have to go back to the states in less than 6 months, which is an eventuality you’re not looking forward to facing.

The only sounds now are the soft contact of your shoes against pavement, the tinkling of metal dog tags, and the cold breeze rustling the trees around the four of you. You were correct about there being no ducks out this late, and you find yourself missing their chatter. Anything to distract you from this confrontation would be welcome right now. As the silence grows longer, it becomes more and more difficult for you to respond. You’ve never been great with words, but what do you have to lose besides looking like an idiot? Besides, you’ve already done that. Like, yesterday. You take a deep breath and offer up the most broad explanation.

“Namjoon, I just can’t be a good friend to you right now.”

“That’s not what I’m asking for.” he simply replies, not missing a beat. Why is he being so stubborn? You’re going to have to elaborate. Forget trying to not make a fool out of yourself. He’s a good person, and he deserves your honesty-- at least most of it.

“I can’t be a good friend to you ever. I’m too consumed in my own baggage right now to help you carry yours. Plus, I’ll have to return to the States soon. I just… don’t want to be a burden on you.”

“That’s… not what I’m asking for,” he says again.

Frustration building up causes you to sigh at him. You’re going to need a little help from this infuriating dimpled tree-man, so you make him give it to you.

“What are you asking for, then?” you inquire with a little sting in your tone, leaving him with no room to continue being vague.

“I am asking to continue spending time with you. That’s it. I enjoy your company.” he says. This answer is still unacceptable to you because...

“I literally yelled at you in a parking lot yesterday, Namjoon,” you say.

“Yeah, but that was…” he trails off and scratches his head, “kind of my fault.”

“You can’t be serious. You… didn’t know.”

“That might be true, but I still hurt you, and I’d like the chance to continue making it up to you. At risk of sounding really cheesy… Part of my job as a KATUSA is to be a symbol of the friendship and mutual support of our two fine countries... To learn from and assist each other... I don’t see why we couldn’t do that too...”

“That… really was cheesy, Namjoon,” you chuckle.

He smiles down at you, and your heart skips around in your chest. When he speaks again, he draws out the first word, clearly in a teasing mood now.

“Okay, but… did it work?” he teases with a sly grin as he side-eyes you.

Part of you wants to tell him no, but he does deserve honesty after all. At least mostly honesty. You want to reveal to him that you know who he is, but you’re unsure of the words to say. He seems eager to stay in your life here, for whatever reason. Compared to what you’ve just been through, nothing can really hurt you again. So what’s the harm, really? It’s not like you have anyone else to spend time with.

“Yeah,” you confess. “It did.”

“So,” he begins, “does that mean you’ll let me show you the museum you haven’t been to yet? There’s this once piece in there that is spectacular. You have to let me show you.”

After a considerable silence, he looks at you with soft, begging eyes and lets out a soft “Please?”

“Okay, Namjoon. You got it.”

You cannot say no to this man.

“Saturday then? In the morning? We’ll want to beat the crowd, especially if you want to explore the whole thing!”

“That works for me. You know, I’m actually looking forward to you being my personal tour guide.”

“Great! I guess you really must be from Georgia. You’re sweet, just like a peach.”

44 notes · View notes

lluvguts · 4 years ago

Note

Picnic that is accidentally rained on// Stan & Bill

Please&thankyou 💕

certainly! ❤❤ hope you like it

---

note: they're aged up! 17!

Stanley surveyed the picturesque scene with more scrutiny than Bill had hoped for. The perfect spot for a picnic--one of the few grassy areas in Derry, untouched by the wet season--with the perfect setup: ratty old blanket Bill found in their attic, a few paperbacks he knew were Stan's favorite reads, lemon tea, pastries Bill had his mother prepare in plastic wrap so they wouldn't crumble. Even the goddamn placement of the assorted foods and drink were perfect, but Bill couldn't help but feel a certain something was missing. Bill's truck was only a few feet away, that had to be it. The eyesore. Or was it the lack of songbirds, to flit about their cliché little picnic? An orchestra in the background?

He turned to Stan, who ended his cursory stare with a warm smile that melted Bill to a pool of butter. It made the anxiety that tapped its quick fingers along his ribcage quiet down, too. It was something Bill had grown to love about him: Stanley knew just when to say the right thing, when to grin, when to kiss his lips so he'd stop stuttering.

"I k-k-know," Bill started, but stopped sentence at the warning signs of a stutter. No. It would not ruin this date, not today. Bill was certain of it. He had worked so hard on ending his evil stutter, he scheduled extra speech therapy sessions, even repeated the tried and true phrases that he knew would help until he heard them in his sleep.

Stanley looked at the grass before stepping closer to Bill, grabbing his hand. If he was to say something, it ended when Bill opened his mouth again to speak, his words coming out true and clear. More confident than perhaps he'd heard their whole childhood.

Bill shut his eyes to focus and spoke softer, gentler. "I know it's not much, but I t-thought it would be something you'd like."

Stanley gripped Bill's hand, glancing away briefly at his own embarrassed blush.

"This isn't one of your artfully worded scenes in your novel, is it Bill?" Stan asked while wiping his free hand across his hot cheeks.

Bill's heart resumed its excited drumbeat as he eased the two of them down onto Grandma Denbrough's patched quilt. Once Stan was comfortable Bill handed him one of the chipped cups and the thermos of tea. "Of c-course not. All Original Bill, just for y-you," He replied.

Stan snorted. "You're kinda sounding like Richie."

"Oh really, the T-Trashmouth, huh? 'hey Eds, let me call you names and pretend I'm not flirting with you. I've been in love with you since middle school but I'm too chicken to show it! My Own Get Off On a Good One! Yowza-YOWZA!' Oh oh, and something about E-Eddie's mom." Bill didn't stutter at any of Richie's parts, much to Stanley's liking, as he was in a laughing fit at Bill's gangly arms that swung across his sides and the imaginary glasses he adjusted on his nose.

"That was a pretty good impression. Maybe you do Voices better than he does," Stanley said on the end of his giggling, finally reaching out to unwrap a berry tart. Bill saw him eyeing it, but was too shy to take it first.

"These aren't half bad. I didn't know you could cook." Stan said around the bite in his mouth.

"George helped me make them. He a-added the sugar on top." Bill smiled to himself then looked out to the horizon, where a league of darkening clouds appeared, but to him seemed miles away from their picnic. Nothing was going to ruin their date.

"Books, too?" Stanley asked with feigned horror, placing a hand across his chest. He scooted closer to Bill and rested his chin on his shoulder. "You outdid yourself, Bill Denbrough."

Bill picked up one, the closest of the newly purchased paperbacks. "I c-can try to read to you."

"Okay, but that one might be a bit difficult," Stan said with a nervous glance at the cover. "And not because of the, uh, stutter. You're just gonna think it's dead boring."

"I'm sure I won't. Here, s-see?" Bill used one hand to pull Stan's side closer, and with the other he flipped the book to its front page. The other boy leaned in to see the words for himself as Bill peered at the lengthy first sentence. He wasn't sure why Stan liked this book, maybe it was just the love for reading he picked up from Mike.

Bill opened his mouth to read aloud, hoping the words would sound as perfect in his head as they did on the paper when a fat droplet of water splattered onto the page, soaking the ink in a dime-sized bullet. Bill looked up with surprise at the water falling around them, then back to the book, which was collecting more pellets of rain.

Oh, right. That was the problem. The weather forecast.

He tried not to look too upset as they packed their picnic up into Bill's backpack, the rain steadily growing. Stanley only laughed at the water, and ran a hand through his curly hair that was soon drenched in rain. Once they half-ran, mostly laughed, back to Bill's truck, he spoke up.

"Y-You're not m-m-mad about the rain, a-a-are you?" Bill was in the driver's side, and deposited their things in the back seat while Stanley found a spare blanket tucked under one of the seats before climbing in next to Bill in the driver's seat with it wrapped around his rain-covered shoulders. In some ways Bill was grateful Stan wasn't like Eddie, who at the first sight of storm clouds would go weak at the knees and rush home for his boots and three unnecessary coats. He lived, just a little.

Stan saved a few of the pastries before Bill zipped up his backpack. "Of course not. Why would I be mad? We can have our picnic in here, Bill...but after we warm up a bit first."

His heart was racing, and the anxiety made his words come out choppy and jumbled and anything but perfect. "I was w-w-worried you'd think the d-date was gonna suck n-now, but I'm su-su-sure we can s-s-stay in here till the weather c-c-calms down. Unless y-y-you want me tu-tu-to take you h-h-h-"

"Hey, it's alright." Stan took his hand again, and looked into his wary eyes. He smiled, reminding Bill to breathe. "You don't have to say anything, I'm happy right where I am."

Bill blushed as Stan set the food on the passenger's seat and slipped comfortably into Bill's lap, finding his favorite cuddle position: his legs carefully placed on either side of Bill, hands clasped against his chest, his mess of curls inches from Bill's nose as he nestled in. Bill slid his hands under the blanket to sit snug across Stanley's waist, and the other boy sighed.

"It's so peaceful with the rain."

He was right. The clouds ahead filled the sky in an off-white, everything that much brighter with the blank overhead canvas. Making the soft patter of rainfall against the windowpanes the perfect sound when the boy cuddled close in his lap was heating up his entire body with the warm puffs of air across his exposed neck as he breathed.

"Stan?" Bill whispered.

"Hmm?"

He bent down to murmur in Stanley's cold ear. "Maybe I-I'll add this to one of my b-b-books."

Stanley affectionately thwacked Bill's upper chest, and even if he was flustered he still put his lips to Bill's shirt collar, kissing his skin. Bill tensed, a little flustered himself. They weren't quite at the annoying, honeymoon stage of their relationship, as both Stan and Bill promised they'd never be the stereotypical high school sweethearts. And they definitely were not as lovey dovey as Ben and Beverly were--or for that matter, Richie and Eddie. Good lord, were those two joined at the hip. Hugging in public, practically drooling over each other, always finding a spare moment to make out. Bill wasn't fond of that, thank you very much. It was the tender moments together, without the spying eyes of the other Losers he cherished most.

"You're a hopeless romantic, Billy," Stanley said between another tentative kiss, his pink nose brushing Bill's neck.

Forget the Disney-worthy scene outside minutes before. Bill loved this. He loved hearing, feeling the rhythm of Stan's heartbeat, and the rain that tried its best to copy it. It didn't have to be perfect. But it was with Stan and that was really all that mattered to him.

#stenbrough #it 2017 #it fanfic #stanley uris #bill denbrough #fluff one shot #one shot #losers club #it movie #fluff #ask #how do i tag lol

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kabira · 4 years ago

Text

04 | solo

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.6k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — one instance of profanity

go to fic masterlist | main masterlist

“You’re being a bitch.”

Vernon closed his locker’s door with a click before turning around, looking at the ceiling in exasperation when he heard the accusatory voice. There was a tube light directly above him, brilliant and blinding right in his sight. He turned away as quickly as he had looked up, blinking back the dark spots in his stinging eyes.

He didn’t bother acknowledging Lucy before making his way down the hallway, bag slung over one shoulder. His muscles ached from the previous night’s encounter—he’d ended up swinging around for longer than usual, long after the three had to go back to the Helicarrier for their bedtime. Knowing May wouldn’t be waiting up for him back home had made him a little careless, and the exertion during gym hadn’t helped.

“Don’t you walk away from me, mister!” Luce called behind him. When she saw that he wasn’t stopping, she blew air out of her mouth in irritation before jogging to catch up. “Vernon! What is up with you?”

The hallway was mostly empty, which wasn’t that surprising. He’d had to stay back in the lab to clean up his new partner’s chemical spill, which had, of course, been blamed on him instead. The old Parker luck. “I need to get home, Luce.”

“Do you?” she asked, and he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. A muscle in her jaw was working, tensing and relaxing at periodic intervals, her eyes fixed on some point in the distance. She was usually relaxed, but her current gait was constrained, like a coiled-up spring. “I saw how you nailed that new kid in gym today. You usually opt out of dodgeball, but—”

“He had it coming,” Vernon said dismissively, but his lips thinned. The new guy she was referring to was Yangyang, who did have it coming, because of his little incident in the cafeteria the day before. Maybe it was a little uncalled for, but Vernon still honestly believed he had deserved it at least a little bit. “And you’re not supposed to chew gum in the school.”

“Neither are you supposed to be mean to people for no reason, but we’re all sinners.” Luce shrugged, and he bit back a few choice words. She pushed through the door as they reached the exit, and he shielded his eyes against the hot midday sun that’s shone directly at them. “For real, though. You got him good—I’ve never seen you so hostile towards anyone save for Flash. Did Yangyang say something to you?”

For some reason, her knowing his name annoyed Vernon even further. “Did you get the answers to those questions yesterday?” he asked, switching the subject.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Very funny.” The laces of her converse were untied, a band pin on the lapel of her jacket wobbly, a few strands loose from her dark ponytail. He blinked, tearing his mind away from the little details of her appearance and tried to focus on walking. Left, right, left. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Yeah, well, I had a headache last night,” he said, grateful he didn’t have to hunt for excuses. His thoughts were already sluggish. “You can ask May.”

“I meant the one about Yangyang.” She paused, and he paused with her, taking a few steps before backtracking towards her. Her eyes were downcast, brow creased thoughtfully. Unconscious little gestures he knew like the back of his hand. Then she glanced up at him, right at him, so suddenly that when her eyes met his he swayed on his feet a little. “You don’t want to tell me, do you?”

I can’t, I’m sorry. But cryptic answers never helped. The last time he had tried withholding something from her that wasn’t his Spider-Man secret—the planned surprise party, for instance—she had persevered until he accidentally let it slip. Plus, she was sharp. A couple of new students, a few matching injuries, and she’d guess those three were superheroes right away. And where would he be then?

“It’s a guy thing,” he said instead, a little white lie he hoped would do the trick. Vernon raked a hand through his hair, pressing his lips into a smile as he squinted at her. “You’re going to embarrass me in front of all these pigeons.”

“The pigeons are half-dead because of New York’s air pollution, I’m pretty sure they have more important things to worry about than some guy’s adjustment problems,” she said, resuming her walk. He waited for her to pass him before following. “Look, I know the new kids are a sudden change after—” She bit the inside of her bottom lip. “Well. After…you know.”

All of a sudden, the atmosphere turned gloomier, as if a cloud had passed overhead. “Yeah,” Vernon said thickly, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know.”

Lucy glanced at him, and though he wasn’t looking directly at her, he could sense the regret in her eyes. “It must be difficult for them, too,” she said. “Joining a new school in the middle of a session, just a few weeks after…all that.” She shrugged, looking at him, and their eyes met. “There’s no harm in being decent.”

He looked away, feeling the lining of his stomach go hot-and-cold. Even a mention of the incident turned every sunny conversation into something dark and somber, even though it had been months already. The counselor/agent had tried making him open up about it as well, but he’d snapped at her, only to regret it right after. It was a difficult subject for him, especially since he felt at least partially responsible for what had happened—but he couldn’t tell Luce that without revealing more than he was supposed to.

“So you’re still trying to score an interview with Tony Stark?” he asked instead, trying to steer the conversation towards a different topic. “I still can’t believe the board’s letting you do that.”

“Honestly? I think the only reason they agreed to it is because then they won’t have to assign me to anything of real importance,” she said with a small laugh. “They think I can’t do it.”

“Can you?”

“I have my ways,” she said, a glint in her eye. “I’d tell you how, but it’s too dangerous to involve an innocent civilian in my plans.”

“Uh-huh.” He tried not to shake his head. Oh, the irony. “You don’t have to talk to Stark, you know. I’m sure there were other civilian witnesses to the Goblin incident.”

“Yeah, but their accounts have already been reported. I need a superhero for this job.” She blew a strand of her hair out of her eyes. “If not him, who else am I going to talk to? Spider-Man?”

He laughed awkwardly. “Maybe?”

“I think Stark might be easier than that.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s kind of the point of the mask.”

He looked at her in half-surprise, unsure what to feel. They had talked about Spider-Man before, of course, but only in passing. A masked vigilante wouldn’t really be central to their usual conversations. Still, he hadn’t expected her to say that. “Yeah,” he murmured, feeling oddly warm. “I guess it is.”

“Oh, look,” she said, stopping in her tracks again. Vernon raised his eyebrows, following her line of sight to a Daily Bugle billboard on the side of a tall building. “Jameson’s having a field day with those photos of the new guys.”

He took a long look at the screen, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Why would you show me that?” he mumbled. On the top right corner of the screen was a blurry picture of him with Tiger, Nova, and Iceman, looking like a perfectly normal team of superheroes fighting crime—except for the leftover webbing clinging to Nova’s costume. Distractedly, Vernon wondered what Jameson made of that little detail.

“As a sighting in Queens last night reported, it seems that Spider-Man has now deemed it fit to invite even more of his delinquent partners into this city!” the man on the screen yelled. If Vernon tried hard enough, maybe he could even see little spit bubbles form in Jameson’s salt-and-pepper moustache during the passionate rant. “With crime rates already increasing steadily ever since the arrival of this masked menace, who knows what kind of mayhem the new additions to his team will spell for New York?”

Always the charmer.

“…anyway,” Luce muttered. She was frowning at the screen, but seemed unable to look away. “Who do you think those guys are?”

“Those guys?” Vernon echoed, awkwardly running his thumb along the strap of his bag. What could he say that would arouse the least suspicion? “They seem new.”

Nailed it.

“Right,” she mumbled, looking distracted, like her mind was far away—never a good sign with this one. “But, as I was saying, I know the past month’s been hard for you. It’s been hard for me, too, but you shouldn’t take it out on a few unsuspecting newbies when they don’t deserve it.”

Vernon kissed his teeth, choosing to stay silent. The last thing he wanted right now was more impromptu therapy, but he knew that trying to dissuade Lucy from speaking would only encourage her. The best he could do was shut up and let her have it.

“You know what’s helped me deal with it?” she asked, and he raised his eyebrows, wanting to get it over with. “Working. Ever since I joined the school newspaper, I’ve been able to keep myself busy. Distracted. I don’t want to sound like a mom, but maybe something like that could work out for you—like an after-school job or something.”

Oh, you have no idea. But he only shrugged, keeping his eyes on the billboard. He had been able to keep busy as Spider-Man, a well-needed distraction from the pain, but now with those three around, it wasn’t the good kind.

“Maybe,” he murmured, watching on as Jameson gesticulated violently onscreen. “We’ll see.”

Vernon swung the drone trapped at the end of his web in a full circle before letting go, letting it fly through the training room into a collapsed structure of another laser. The drone exploded, sparking as it crashed, crushing the circuit of the lasers in the structure beneath it.

Dusting off his hands, he turned, facing the rest of his ‘team’-mates, who stood to one side, having been watching him as he single-handedly took on the subjects of their training session. He had been going at it for about half an hour now, and it had been strangely satisfying to get to throw stuff around for the heck of it.

Nova stood leaning against the wall next to the control panel, his arms folded over his chest. “You done yet?” he asked in a bored voice.

The drone Vernon had just disabled sparked again, shooting an angry red beam across the room. Vernon clicked his modified web shooters into condensed impact mode and webbed the drone again without looking. The drone crackled once, then its light went dark.

“I am now,” he said, dropping his arm. Felix watched him with bleary eyes as he turned and headed towards the exit, which slid open with a pneumatic hiss. “And since I managed to complete the mission objective solo, I think I’m going to head home.”

“Except you didn’t.” White Tiger landed in his path, executing a perfect handspring that arched high over his head. Her reflexes were as good as his—maybe even better, but he would probably never tell her that.

She crossed her arms, shifting her weight to one leg. Despite the mask covering her features, he could sense how peeved she was through the sheer annoyance radiated by her posture. “The objective was to disable the bots without alerting the security system. You trashed the drones and crashed the system, and the power failure would have initiated a manual site-wide search. If this had been a real mission, we would have been discovered by now.”

“Except this isn’t a real mission,” he said, equally annoyed. “If it had been, I’m pretty sure I would have been able to do the job easily. Six armed drones against one spider? No competition.”

“And this was supposed to be a team effort,” she snapped. “If this had just been a solo training session, I would have had no problem with you doing what you just did. But in case you forgot, the whole point of this is to prepare us for team combat in real situations, to help us learn to work better, together. Your taking on everything alone wasn’t heroic, it was an obstruction of the purpose of this entire thing.”

She took a step back, suddenly, as if reeling from a blow, though he hadn’t even moved. The training room had gone silent—granted, it hadn’t been very noisy in the first, place, but her voice had been so loud and her words so rapid that Vernon had forgotten the silence. Now it pressed down on him, like another layer to his suit.

She dropped her arms to her sides, fingers curling in and out slightly, her claws retracting under the white gloves. “I know it’s difficult for you having to work with someone against your will,” she said, “and I know you don’t like us very much. But that’s not a good enough reason for you to throw away everything we’ve been training for. If you’re not going to be nice, at least try to be civil.”

She turned on his heel and stalked out the door. Vernon watched her go, right up until the doors slid back in place behind her.

He turned around, only to find the other two staring back at him. “Way to go,” Felix mumbled.

“You totally got schooled right there,” Yangyang said, though he didn’t sound very amused. “You know she takes this training stuff more seriously than any of us.” He shrugged; arms still folded. “Gotta be more sensitive than that.”

“Stop it,” Felix snapped at him, looking annoyed. “She only cares about this so much because it’s the only thing she’s got. You’ve got the Guardians, and I have—had—the X-Men, and probably a bunch of other mutant organizations, like the Frost Academy or something,” he added the last bit in an undertone, “but S.H.I.E.L.D.—after she lost her family, this is the only place she can turn to. That’s her one chance at making it, but this doofus is refusing to cooperate. If it were me, I’d be pretty pissed.”

Vernon narrowed his eyes at him, but couldn’t find the strength to argue. Too much about what Felix had said hit right where it hurt. Losing someone you cared about, suddenly having nobody to turn to…he understood how bad that was. But losing your entire family and being displaced from your home? He couldn’t even imagine it.

The earlier annoyance had drained from his body like an ebbing tide, leaving nothing but a hollowness and that damned guilt that seemed to follow him everywhere like an annoying ghost. Oh, well, my fault for having a conscience.

Suddenly tired, he sighed, tearing his eyes from the mutant’s and looking resignedly at a spot on the wall. As much as he would like to have a reason to properly hate his new team, he knew he couldn’t really blame them for any of this. “Where do you think she’ll go?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t—” Yangyang started.

“Up top,” Felix answered, cutting him off. His irises were rings of ice, but when Vernon looked at him then, they seemed almost warm. “Take the elevator to the left. Make sure you don’t fall off the side—New York’s a long way down.”

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petri808 · 4 years ago

Text

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30-Epilogue

*TW: cutting, therapy, break down. a little longer then usual at 2500 words

The therapist greeted the couple as they walked in and sat down on the couch. “Thank you for allowing Natsu to sit in today, Lucy. I don’t want you to think of this as a couples counseling per se, because you’re still my primary client. But I feel that him being here to understand your struggles, as well as his, and being able to express them in a safe environment, will help in your healing process. And thank you Natsu for agreeing to this.”

He sat forward a bit, ready to engage. “Anything to help Lucy.”

“I’d like to start with your homework Lucy, has there been any progress in trying to write out your feelings? Remember, it’s okay if you’re still struggling with that, there’s no judgment here.”

“Not... really...” Lucy fidgeted with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Every time I try to, I-I get too... I start to cry, and the panic rises— I fail at it every single damn time and that makes me feel even worse.”

“You’re not failing. Let’s reword that to struggling and recognize that simply making an attempt is the first step, a very important one to be proud of.”

“Maybe I was just kidding myself all along about writing. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t any good in the first place. It was all in my head.” Lucy could see the frown on Natsu’s face from her words, but that’s how she feels now. There was a time she thought she was a decent writer, maybe not publishing quality yet, but she truly enjoyed it regardless and now, a blank page is all she could muster.

“Natsu,” the therapist directs her question to the man. “It seems you’re unhappy with her statement. Would you say that Lucy’s a good writer? Honest answer.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I mean I’m no expert, but the stuff I’ve seen is pretty good. I definitely couldn’t pull them off.”

“Lucy would you call Natsu a liar?”

The blonde paused, annoyed and offended. She wanted to say yes, only because she didn’t want to agree, but then it wouldn’t be true. Natsu was giving his honest opinion and she couldn’t deny it. “No,” Lucy breathed out. “Look I get it. You’re trying to tell me it’s all in my head, right? It’s just the pain talking, and I’ll get better, and I’ll get back into writing just like before.” Anger had slowly begun to prickle the hairs on the back of her neck the longer she clung to the dissociation. “I-I’m not an idiot! I know this is all stupid shit in my brain! I just can’t stop it!”

“I’m sorry, I pushed you too hard, let’s go back a step here. No one is saying you’re an idiot. On the contrary, you’re very intelligent. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be recognizing that it’s all in your head, and that recognition is how the healing starts. My role, today with Natsu’s help, is to bring that to the forefront. Bring it out into the open, because sometimes hearing it out loud has a different effect on how we process the information.”

“I don’t get it...”

The woman sat back in her chair in thought for a brief second. “When we think about things just in our head, versus saying it out loud, it triggers different parts of our brain. What studies have found is that talking out loud stimulates... rational... erm, reality I guess is a better term. It becomes more real to us.”

“Huh.” So, what, Lucy rolled her eyes at the suggestion. True or not, she didn’t want to agree, because her mind was still in such a strong state of denial. “I still don’t accept it. It sounds stupid.” Maybe it was just her annoyance talking, but the therapist was getting on her nerves. Lucy knew the woman was just trying to help, but her irrational side didn’t want to deal with any of this. The pain sucked, but so did the treatment. She just wanted to stay in her room, in the dark, away from prying eyes. Surprisingly to Lucy, the therapist didn’t even flinch and the gleam in the woman’s eyes almost looked sadistic in that moment.

“Lucy, I know you know it’s not stupid. That’s just your mind imagining the wrong things, which is why you need to talk about it out loud, so you can hear yourself and how wrong it all sounds.”

Ugh! She was so tired of being told what she is, what she should be thinking, and the condescending tone she wrongly assumed from the therapist triggered an explosion. All the anger she felt about herself was transferred to the therapist in an instant. “I’m wrong?!” Lucy jumped to her feet, her anger crackling through. “No shit! Lady, I’m fucked up!! You want me to talk? Fine! I hate this! I hate everything! It’s all falling the fuck apart and I feel like I’ve been tied to the damn train tracks! Everything I’ve worked so hard for is slipping away! Three years of college being washed down the drain! How the fuck do I catch up now?! I’m so behind! AARRRGHH!!! I-I don’t even wanna get out of bed anymore! I hate myself— hate what I’ve become a-and that makes me even more fucking depressed! And my friends...” Lucy dropped back onto the couch as her shaking hands flew up to cover her face and the dam of tears finally broke loose in a cascade down her cheeks. She cried long, and deep for several minutes, chest heaving and inconsolable.

In that moment, Natsu sat frozen, his eyes swinging back and forth to the therapist and his girlfriend unsure of what to do. Should he move to comfort Lucy? The therapists inaction seemed to suggest the answer was no. It made him furious, yet... she was the professional... before he could make a decision, Lucy finally uncovered her face and look dead at her therapist. Almost forgetting him all together.

“My friends, seeing the looks on their faces...” Lucy dug her fingers into the fabric of her pants in an effort to ground her unraveling mind. “It hurts so fucking much! I must be getting on Levy’s nerves, she didn’t sign up to be my nurse, a-and Natsu, he’ll surely get tired of a basket-case of a girlfriend. I can’t blame him if he left me, I’d leave me too. It’s all just falling apart—” Her chest heaved in a heavy sigh. “I can’t see a way out anymore.”

Seeing the whites of Lucy’s knuckles the harder she clenched onto her leg and seeing the heavy breathing similar to that night in the ambulance. Natsu feared that Lucy was heading towards a panic attack. Wanting to reassure her, Natsu reacted this time and reached up from his seat, quickly grabbing her arm to gain her attention. “Lucy, I’m not—.”

But Lucy screamed and yanked her arm back, face grimacing in pain. “Tsss—Owww!!”

“leavi—” Natsu pulled back immediately. “Oh, shit! I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! Did I grab you too hard?!” He didn’t think so, but based on her reaction, maybe he had.

“N-No,” she cradled her arm, turning to shield it from him. “You didn’t, I’m fine, it just caught me by surprise.” Lucy quickly brushed it off for fear of requiring an explanation. “Really. S-Sorry, I-I’m probably just too flustered.”

But that explanation didn’t satisfy Natsu. Lucy’s yelp was clearly pain related if buttressed by the fact she continued to hide it. “You’re lying to me,” he reached out, “I’m not mad, just please tell me the truth because it’s obvious there’s something wrong with your arm.”

“N-No, I’m not,” she tried to act like it was true. “See,” she waved it as if showing it was fine. “Nothing’s wrong...” till she accidentally hit it again and flinched, biting her lip just in time to stifle a scream. But she knew in an instant that she’d been caught.

His eyes and tone softened in an effort to lower her inhibitions. “Yes, there is.” Natsu took her arm and started to pull up on the sleeve of her sweater.

Lucy instinctively turned her head away. She didn’t want to see his reaction to the bandage around her arm. Even when he continued to speak, questioned what was underneath it, she answered in one worded responses without looking. But at his gasping sound, her eyes closed in shame. She could see what he saw all from behind her eyelids, all the horizontal cuts running across her left arm. The red, angry lines in varying stages of healing. She kept most of it grouped around the middle of her arm between the wrist and elbow crook. At first, she’d tried what that EMT had done, merely jabbing her arm with a pen or digging her nails into the skin. But it wasn’t enough, so she’d moved onto cutting. It had started out small, just a couple of lines were enough to silence the horrid voices in her head, but like a junky’s tolerance, Lucy had to keep cutting, more and more, deeper, just to feel the same numbing results.

“Is this what I think it is?” Natsu’s shaky voice questioned with moisture filling his eyes. “Oh, Lucy, why didn’t you tell me it was this bad.” Now he knew why she’d started wearing long sleeves even when the weather was warm.

“I’m sorry... I didn’t want anyone to know... but it was the only thing making the voices stop.”

Without another word, Natsu pulled a surprised Lucy into a tight hug, tears of his own spilling. “No, I’m sorry, it’s my fault this is happening to you. I should have dealt with Touka long ago. I should have protected you better. This is on me, but Lucy I’m never gonna let you go, I won’t ever leave you because of this. We’re gonna get through this together. I swear on my life, we’re gonna get through this together. Do you believe me?? Please, tell me you believe me?”

“I do...” she did. The man wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait Lucy found most endearing, so how could her heart not accept his words? They sat there in an embrace while time stood still, and a small measure of relief fell over her. It wasn’t much, but it was a glimmer of hope, an ember, and one she hadn’t felt in a long time. This man who’d caged her on that train and captured her heart, she could easily pin all of her pain onto him, but he could also be her salvation. His strong arms wrapped around her broken frame made the scary world fall away, to remind her how much more she yearned to stay within it.

Once he felt Lucy’s body relax, Natsu pulled back, wiping away her tears as well as his own. “Is this the only area?” He gestured at her arm without judgment. And when she nodded, he let out a sigh of relief.

Now that the moment was waning, the therapist who’d been waiting patiently and observing spoke up. She offered the anxiety medications again to Lucy and with Natsu’s gentle coaxing, the blonde finally agreed to it. It couldn’t hurt right? If they didn’t work, she’ll just stop taking them. She didn’t want to see the anguish in Natsu’s eyes anymore, especially now that she realized how much he was internalizing and struggling alone with. He was in just as much pain as she was, so it was time they both do what they could to heal, together.

As they were about to leave, Natsu paused and questioned the doctor. “I have a question. I just realized, even though today was a big episode... Lucy didn’t have a panic attack. Why is that?”

The blonde looked at her boyfriend before her eyes landed on the therapist with an expectancy of an answer. She hadn’t realized that either. Shouldn’t her outburst have triggered one?

“I’m glad you asked,” the woman smiled. “Panic attacks are often triggered by suppression. When you’re trying to hold in your emotions, refusing to let it go, and not show it, but today Lucy let it out. She didn’t hold back so there was no need for her body to react physiologically.” She reached out and placed a gentle hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “Sometimes a good cry and scream goes a long way. Please remember that.”

It was quiet on the taxi ride back to Lucy’s apartment. Not an uncomfortable silence, but maybe just enough had been said in the hour long therapy session that they both still needed time to process it all. Despite her breakthrough, she knew it was still a long battle ahead. The poor coping skills she’d latched onto now needed to be reversed, and frankly she didn’t know if she could do it alone. Of course, she could ask Levy... and the woman did deserve to hear the truth going on... but Lucy really didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on her best friend. Levy had done so much for her already and as much as she appreciated it, it also contributed to her emotional pain. She glanced down at her hand held so tightly by Natsu and wondered... no... The man was struggling as well, so to add hers into his mix, is that really fair? But by that same token, their pain was also a shared one. If there was anything to take away from the session is that perhaps it is together, they’ll better find the end of the rainbow.

Once they arrive at the building and get out of the taxi, Natsu started walking towards it. Lucy tugged back to stop him. “Lucy?”

“Before we go in...” her voice lowers, hesitancy brimming in her tone. “I have a question to ask.”

“Of course, anything.”

“I can’t—, don’t want to do this alone anymore. But I also don’t want to put that kind of burden on Levy.”

“Lucy,” he pulled her hand up, clasped between his palms to his lips where he kissed the fingers gently. “I will do whatever you need me to do.”

She sighed. “Can I move in with you? A-At least until I get control of the panic attacks and the... the thing?” Her eyes flit to her arm rather than say the words aloud. “I know this would intrude on Gray, but I would feel much safer.”

Natsu paused for a second in thought. “I don’t think Gray will mind. I certainly don’t.” He smiled. “We’ll be there for each other.”

“Are you sure? Because there’s still a few things I haven’t mentioned like nightmares. I-I don’t wanna freak you guys out.”

“A promise is a promise, and when I said I’ll do anything, I meant it. Will it be scary, probably, I’m not gonna lie, but I’m willing to do whatever I need to get us through this.”

Lucy’s eyes gloss over, but a tiny smile ticks up at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Natsu.”

He smiled back, “I’m the one who should be thankful.”

“For what?”

“For not dumping me. As much you’d worried, I’d leave you, I was deathly afraid you’d leave me. I brought this on us, so I wouldn’t blame you from running away.”

“Oh, Natsu.” This time a true smile finally graced Lucy’s face. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

#nalu #nalu au #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #Natsu dragneel #Lucy heartfilia #Natsu x lucy #strangers on a train #ch 26 #tw cutting

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ri-ahhh · 4 years ago

Note

idk if you’ve heard the song toxic by kehlani but maybe you could write something based off that song where a tipsy y/n calls up her on and off ex (grayson) to come over 👀 i love your writing btw

It’s already late when your best friend Fallon knocks sharply on the front door of your apartment. You had texted her not even half an hour ago, all up in your feels after you saw Grayson’s Snapchat story of him and some friends at the beach, an unfamiliar and pretty blonde girl tucked under his arm in one of the photos. She had responded immediately, letting you know she was on her way.

Feet clad in your fuzzy pink slippers, the strings of Grayson’s old hoodie keeping the hood cinched around your face tightly, you heave yourself off your comfy couch and trudge over to the front door to let her in. When you swing it open, she’s standing there with her hands full with her purse in one and an obvious brown paper bag in the other.

You stand aside silently, letting her pass the threshold and dump her shit on the kitchen island. “You didn’t have to bring alcohol, Fal, you know I don’t drink like that anymore.”

“Exactly,” Fallon deadpans, whipping out the bottle from the bag. “You stopped drinking because of Grayson Dolan. I think you owe it to yourself to let yourself start drinking because of him, too.”

You push the hood off your head and take the blue bottle from her when she offers it to you. Your brows raise. “You bought me Don Julio to cry over my ex? Isn't this, like, $50 for a bottle?”

Fallon waves a hand dismissively. “That’s exactly why I got it; you’re not gonna cry over your ex. Wine of any kind is crying juice. Vodka makes you a dumb bitch, and bottom shelf tequila makes you cry, a dumb bitch, and a ho. You need the good stuff, so we can bring out the bad bitch. Who can talk about her ex, get it all out, without crying again, or texting him, or posting a thirst trap.”

You roll your eyes. “That was only one time I accidentally sent you that nude instead of Grayson. And we were still together, so it didn't count as being a ho. I was just giving my boyfriend good spank bank material.”

Fallon is already rummaging through your cabinets, in search of the nearly-forgotten shot glasses. “Babe, you know I support every woman’s right to be a ho as much as she wants, especially after a breakup, but this is Grayson we’re talking about. You two were so into each other, it was toxic. You fought all the time, and by your own admission fixed everything with sex. You’re addicted, and as your best friend, I’m inserting myself here to keep you from talking to him anymore.”

She turns around, two little glasses in hand, and looks at you then the bottle in your hands pointedly. You give in and pull out the stopper and the Don Julio Blanco to her.

“Now, I’m not gonna get you drunk. But we’re gonna get enough in you to loosen up that tongue, you’re gonna get all your Grayson shit out before I leave, and we’re gonna go to bed happy and feeling better,” she says matter-of-factly, pouring the clear liquid into the glasses. She hands one of them to you. “Cheers, bitch.”

Right before you clink and tap, Fallon’s phone buzzes. She leans over to check it where it’s resting on the counter, and her eyes widen. “Shit...”

“What?” you ask concernedly. Fallon puts down her glass and starts typing madly.

“It’s my downstairs neighbor. She said Roxy’s been barking for nearly an hour straight and she’s gonna file another noise complaint if I don’t get there to let her out.” She stops for a moment and looks at you. “Shit. I’ll get evicted if I get another one. Like actually evicted.”

Fallon’s dog Roxy has serious attachment issues, which is usually extremely annoying, but right now you're thanking her. You love Fallon to death, but this isn’t exactly the friend therapy you needed or expected when you called her up to come over.

“Dude, go! I promise I’m fine. I don’t need to worry about you being homeless on top of my shit.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, babe, I promise I’ll FaceTime you as soon as I’m home.” She’s gathering her things, leaving the tequila open on the counter. “Make good choices, please. Love you!”

“Love you!” you call out behind her as she rushes through the door.

The door slams, and it leaves a ringing silence almost as loud as your best friend. You look around at your suddenly empty apartment, your eyes landing on the still-full shot glasses.

What the hell? You snatch one of them off the counter and down it with a grimace. Admittedly, it was the best tequila you’ve ever had, but it’s still tequila. The burn travels down your esophagus and settles in your near-empty belly. The sensation reminds you that you’ve hardly eaten today, and one shot was probably more than enough considering your lack of food and the fact that you’ve probably reverted to being an extreme lightweight after not drinking for so long.

You and Grayson have barely been broken up for a month, and despite how hard it’s been, you haven't been tempted to touch more than a glass of wine or an occasional Whiteclaw if the stress of the day was too much. But it never felt right to have more. Grayson is still a part of you, even though that’s part of the reason you broke up to begin with. The two of you were becoming codependent on each other, which was turning into jealousy and neediness that built up into huge, explosive fights and ended with you fucking on whatever surface was nearest.

It was, indeed, a vicious, toxic cycle. Even though you tell yourself it’s for the best, you also can’t shake the feeling that the two of you aren’t done. That there’s still hope for your relationship, especially now that you’ve spent time apart.

Fallon’s tactics have backfired as you stomp back to the couch and snatch your phone off the cushion. Julio has given you the liquid courage you need to do exactly what Fallon told you not to.

I miss u

A classic. You wish you had it in you to be more creative, but the simple truth of it is: you do miss him. You miss his laugh. You miss his smell. You miss coming home to him, either here or at his house, after a long day. You miss his kisses. You miss his dick.

There’s little shame for yourself in admitting that. You used it to solve your problems, but you were blind to that before the breakup. Everything is more clear now, especially the fact that you still love him deeply.

Suddenly, your phone starts buzzing. You don’t even look at the caller ID, assuming it’s Fallon calling impatiently from her car.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

The deep voice on the other end of the phone startles you, and you hold it away from your face to see his name in big, white letters. No longer ‘Gray’ with some heart emojis, but ‘Grayson Dolan.’

You swallow hard and put the phone back to your ear. “Uh, hi, Hey.”

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “I, uh, got your text.”

You don’t say anything, picking at a piece of fluff on your slipper.

“I miss you too. Like, a lot. Too much.”

You bite your lip tightly, chewing it nervously. You hadn’t expected him to fucking call. Calling and texting had two very different vibes. Over text, you would probably say something cute and calm and ask if the two of you could get coffee tomorrow.

But a call? You can hear his voice for the first time in weeks. It makes you want to jump through the phone and wrap him in your arms, to cry in his chest -- from happiness or sadness, you’re not sure. Either way, this is the closest you’ve felt to him in so long, and it makes you weak.

Grayson may be loud, but he’s good at shutting up when he wants an answer. It’s one of the things that drove you most crazy when you fought. He’d yell his piece, then stare at you until you had a retort. Sometimes you did, sometimes you didn't; you were always both at fault, for the most part.

You take a deep breath and find your voice at last. “Me too. I...I haven’t been doing so great. Without you.”

She hears him sigh. “Me neither.” He pauses, and you wait anxiously. “Look, I’ll be honest. I was with Ethan when I got your text and he...well, he doesn’t think it’s a good idea that I called you. Or that we’re talking to each other, period.”

He leaves his sentence hanging, almost like an open-ended question without phrasing it as such. You can't stop the laugh from bubbling past your lips as you shake your head. “Fallon was just over at my place and said the same thing. So that either makes us really fucking stupid, or our best friends just don’t understand.”

“Famous last words, either way,” Grayson chuckled with you. You can hear crickets chirping in the background, and imagine he’s sitting outside by the pool. The two of you used to like to do that together.

You decide to follow his example and head out to your balcony, plopping down in one of the plastic chairs with your knees tucked to your chest. “What do you think about us talking, then?”

He doesn't miss a beat. “I think I miss you. And I love you. And I know I fucked up a lot, but I’ve been actually reflecting on everything that was wrong with us and I think I know now what I can do better. This time apart has been really fucking hard, but I think it was a good thing. For me, anyways.”

Your lip finds its way between your teeth again. You clamp it hard to hold back the shake in your voice. “Me too, Gray. I wasn’t perfect by any means, either. But as long as we both know what we need to work on, I want to try again if you do.”

“I do want that,” Grayson sighs, relief flooding his voice. He laughs that laugh you missed so much. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve been driving E crazy having these meltdowns all the time thinking about how I fucked up so bad that I wouldn’t ever get you back.”

You smile into your knees, and decide in that moment to risk it for the sake of your biscuit, which throbs at the mere thought and sound of him. “Is it too early to mention that I miss all of you?”

“Careful, or I might think you only want me back for my body.”

“I mean, I definitely had to use my imagination a few times without the real thing. I only had to think of you, though. How good you fuck me.”

This right here is probably where the tequila is coming in to play. Fallon was wrong again; you’re about to go Full Ho, having phone sex with your kind-of ex.

His breath picks up nearly imperceptibly, but you can also hear the smirk in his voice. “How many times did I make you squirt in the tiny house shed that one time, baby? That was so hot.”

“Mm, it was so good, Gray. I remember you had to carry me inside to your bed because I couldn’t walk. And then you fucked me nice and hard on your bed.” A rush of wetness floods your panties, and you squeeze your thighs together. “You came all in my mouth that night. I miss how your cum tastes.”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Can I come over?”

You hesitate. You think of Fallon, of Ethan, of Don Julio. Of Grayson.

“Yes. Please.”

#anon i LOVE kehlani #and this song #sorry it wasn't super sexy #i loved writing this might fuck around and add to it eventually #whoever this character is has my dumb bitch energy #dolan twins #grayson dolan #blurb #g blurb

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sinagrace · 4 years ago

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Iceman’s been back on my mind lately. It started with the internet rumor that Shia Labeouf was being considered to play the role of Bobby Drake in a Marvel Cinematic Universe version of the X-Men. My DMs and @Mentions on social media were a mixture of intense reaction and then asking my take on who would make a great Bobby Drake (for the record: in my head I always saw him as a younger Antoni Porowski with a theater background, ‘cuz playing the funny guy with a vulnerable streak requires serious acting shops). My mind went back to the time of BC, when I was doing a lot of touring, and answering this very question because of my work on the Iceman book at Marvel. One thing led to another, and I decided to take a trip further down memory lane to look at my favorite volume of the series: Amazing Friends. Now, I know I’ve spent equal amounts of time publicly stating what a gift working on Iceman was, while also calling out the challenges that came with the experience, but the third volume really was a pure blessing. I was able to take every valuable lesson I learned as a writer, and apply it to telling a story that would be interesting to one person: Me. I’ve been a lifelong X-Men fan, I live and breathe comics, so my own expectations for a return to the series seemed like the only ones to really worry about meeting/ surpassing. The first two volumes had been so bogged down by rotating editors, complex continuity, company-wide events, multiple artists… The third volume was my chance to focus on what an Iceman series was outside of so much context. All that mattered was challenging myself to do an X-Men story that focused on the aspects of the franchise I felt were valuable and relevant, meaning: excuses to have Emma Frost be an asshole and finding an opportunity to make fun of Kitty Pryde’s haircut. Before moving on from Marvel, Axel Alonso made time to call me for a pep talk about the series. I wanted to get the series extended, and he wanted to help me succeed with the ten issues he could commit to. First, he offered an eleventh issue to give me more time on the stands. He took a look at everything I had planned, and basically told me to restructure with an eye for ramping up the pace. My writing background comes from prose and essays/ think pieces… both of which are methodical and provide some allowance from the reader to really take your time and set up the world before diving into the meat. That’s not the case with comics. You gotta work fast. Especially in today’s market, there is less and less room for a retailer to say, “give it two volumes, because shit starts really coming together by the third trade.” That was literally my speech for hooking people on such iconic series as Invincible, Fables, and Strangers in Paradise. Nowadays, every single issue is not a brick to be laid down as foundation so much as a bullet in your gun. Conflicting imagery, but that’s the point. Axel told me to think about the Big Moments in my life and sort out how to inject the mutant metaphor into it and make the most compelling comic book story I could. This was epic advice that I took with me into the new arc, but I struggled a bit with what could be bigger than the “coming out” storyline in volume one. Love was off the table because I wanted to keep Bobby single and ready to mingle. Death was off the table too, because my editor felt like we’d done enough with Bobby’s parents in the first two volumes. Upon looking at my own life, and considering the stuff me and my friends were dealing with, I landed on something a bit more reflective than LIFE or DEATH. I wanted to focus on that moment when a gay guy looks outside of himself and realizes the folks around him may not have it so easy. After everything we’ve been dealing with this summer, Iceman’s “big issue” of the arc feels oddly prescient. Bobby Drake had to reconcile his accidental complicit role in keeping the Morlocks down, and he has to investigate new approaches to being a better ally to those who don’t want to or can’t live under the protection of the X-Men. I used the Morlocks to allegorically speak to the issues that the trans/ NB community face today. Considering that trans folks are facing higher rates of homelessness and murder than other members of the LGBTQIA+ community, all I needed to do was find a perfect villain to treat the Morlocks as “lesser-than.” Cue Mister Sinister, who I wrote as particularly Darwinist with a major flair for interactive theater. While Amazing Friends definitely is the most fun I’ve had working on the book, it was also full of the heaviest shit I’ve written about. I’m so grateful that my editor let me use Emma Frost for a story about the trauma of gay conversion therapy with her brother Christian, but I’m still annoyed he wouldn’t let me put her in a sickening Givenchy outfit for her reveal. Similarly, creating the Madin character required that I chat with several mental healthcare professionals and members of the NB community to respectfully portray them as a resilient and fleshed out hero. I included personal lessons that I learned from years of the therapy (the sandcastle / sea image, a Jay Edidin fave moment). My editor and I weren’t always aligned, but we definitely were on each other’s side. He understood what I was trying to do and asked questions when something flew over his head, and he even had the good instincts to stop me from going too heavy handed with the ending. My original idea for the arc’s finale was to have Bobby become permanently scarred in his fight with Sinister, where he’d have a cool ice gash running across his face or something, a la Squall from Final Fantasy 8. The goal was to show Iceman stripping himself of his ability to pass as non-mutant to save the Morlocks, but the Mutant Pride fight scene being a stand-in for the Stonewall Riots kind of already made enough of a statement. Plus, no one in editorial wanted to deal with remembering to track his scar in other books. At first I tried to balk at his point of view, but when I looked over my original notes for the series, the point was to focus on optimism and hope. Giving Bobby a permanent scar and emphasizing the notion of sacrifice was too bleak a message for a series wherein the hero carbo-loads hoagies while riding an ice scooter and mutant drag queens emcee local festivals. Of course, the crowning achievement of the series… my mutant drag queen :) I’ve witnessed a lot when it comes to the world of pop culture and myth-making, and I 100% believe that you can’t plan the success of something. I’ve seen bands forced into breaking up because labels spend six figures failing at making listeners connect with an album. I witnessed firsthand how The Walking Dead was built from relatively humble beginnings as a buzzy cable drama into a literal international phenomenon over the course of its first three seasons. Everyone hopes for the best, but you never know how something will land with audiences. When the Shade character took off, I was truly astounded. Things I posted on Instagram while half-asleep became official quotes on major news sites. Queens and cosplayers were interpreting her like Margot Robbie had unveiled a new Harley Quinn lewk. The impact was so legit and immediate that we had to jump in and give Shade a proper Marvel hero alias, to truly welcome her into the X-Men canon. Hence the name change to Darkveil. (Funny story: I tried to fight hard for Madame X as an alias, but CB didn’t want another Agent X / “X-Name” character. Three months later, Madonna announced the Madame X album. Phew!) There was a time where I felt uncertain that the folks in charge at Marvel would bring Darkveil into any stories outside of the ones I wrote. My understanding was that Hickman was like the Cylons and had A Plan-- one that didn’t include her character. I made peace with my contribution to the Marvel Universe being contained, but then someone on social media pointed out that Darkveil showed up in an issue of Marvel Voices. After breaking down and reading Hickman’s House of X, I saw that his Plan was one of endless possibilities, and that he was moving EVERY character into new and dynamic places. I have hope now that he sees the possibilities with Darkveil, and takes advantage of her and all of her many body pouches. Amazing Friends really is my favorite thing I’ve done for the Big Two. I made a lifelong friend out of artist Nate Stockman (DC, please hire us for a Plasticman book), and I got to run a victory lap with the most encouraging and supportive readers out there. It was worth every dreadful conversation, every shitty thing a person said to me online, and all of the fun nonsense that goes into being creative for a living. Being stuck at home in quarantine has given me a lot of time to reflect on the gift that my career to date has been, and I feel so grateful to be where I am today. Other people may groan when they have to talk about something they’ve moved on from, but not me. I made people happier, I got to work with my favorite characters at Marvel, and and I'll say it again: it’s a frickin’ gift to make people move from your work. So, I will engage every tweet or message asking me my thoughts about who should play Bobby Drake in the Marvel Cinematic Universe… I’ll just never have a good answer.

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ayamari-no-goshi · 4 years ago

Text

Verboten 12 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary: AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Chapter warning: minor character death. Blood

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 12

After he was cleared to return to school, he found the media waiting for him. Somehow, Danny’s parents managed to keep them away from the house. Actually, that wasn’t too surprising as his dad did have a bad habit of accidentally attacking people who paid unplanned visits to the house. The mental image of a particularly annoying reporter with too much perfume covered in the green goop from one of his parents’ inventions was rather pleasing. Following the events at the campgrounds, the school was closed for a week while the police conducted interviews with the staff and school board The information he got from Sam, whose parents were among those interviewed, suggested the police wanted to verify those involved with the school had nothing to do with what happened. However, a rumor circulated that the staff knew about the original missing person investigation prior to the trip, which prompted the school to release a statement where the park and its employees for the tragedy. That didn’t sit well with the general populace, who began regular protests in front of the school.

Once the school re-opened, the reporters began targeting students for interviews they couldn’t get with the school’s staff. Since most of the students were minors, the police got involved to prevent any potential legal issues. However, their presence did not stop the reporters from trying. Each time one of the students involved in the “mass abduction,” as it was being called, returned to the school, the reporters renewed their attempts.

After successful dodging the reporters, Danny made his way to his locker. Unlike the countless times he previously made the trip, this particular time was different. The tension in the air was palpable as the other students stared at him as he passed.

His friends met him at his locker. When he mentioned the stares, Tucker gave an awkward chuckle. “About that, word got out that you were found hours after the rest of us. There are a lot of rumors about what you might or might not have seen and why you weren’t as injured as the A-listers.”

“Speaking of the the A-listers, which ones are back?” Danny questioned as he grabbed his books. Other than the general aftermath, he didn’t know too much regarding what happened to the other abductees.

“All but Star are back. She lost part of her arm, so she’s in physical therapy. I overheard the queen bee saying something about how Star might end up being transferred,” Sam answered as she kept an eye on some of the students staring at them.

He nodded. “That’s more than understandable.” The noticeable tension gave way to what he could only describer as an overwhelming wrongness.

His friends grabbed his arms to stabilize him. “Dude, what’s wrong? Is it related to your… you know?” Tucker’s voice momentarily seemed distant, and it took Danny a great deal of focus to concentrate on it. “Are you sure you should have returned today?”

“It’s okay… it’s just…”

“FENTON!” The sound of Dash’s voice rang through the hallway. Danny had little time to react before the jock suddenly appeared in his line of sight and pinned him to the lockers. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back. You better have an explanation for what happened that day!” Anger radiated off Dash in waves.

“What is your problem?” He still didn’t understand how he became so sensitive to emotions, but they seemed to affect what Frostbite called his core. “If you forgot, you ran off and left us!”

“Are you telling me that you didn’t see that thing? You didn’t see what hurt Star? You better not be lying to me. You’re the one who gave us that weird warning before everything happened!”

“Get off me,” he snapped as he pushed Dash away. “Regarding what happened to you and your friends, I only know what I was told when I was in the hospital. We,” he gestured to his friends as his chest suddenly seemed to freeze, “never saw you guys after you ran off. So, whatever you saw, we certainly didn’t see it.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. Don’t your crackpot parents study this type of stuff?”

Before he could reply, the cold sensation gripped his chest again as the wrongness from earlier returned. The girl who was on the new the other night walked by and momentarily locked eyes with him. His entire body screamed danger, and his core tried activating in defense. It took all of his willpower to squash it down. The girl just gave him a haughty smile and continued on her way.

“Well, aren’t you going to say something?” Dash’s voice brought him back to the situation at hand.

“My parents aren’t crackpots. If you want information from them, go ask them yourself. Good luck at understanding their explanations though. Come on, guys.”

“Are you calling me stupid, Fenton? Cuz if you are…”

“Dash, even I can barely understand some of their theories, and I grew up exposed to that stuff.” That seemed to somewhat diffuse the jock’s anger as he simply growled and sulked away. After nodding in satisfaction, he caught the stunned looks of his friends. “What?”

“Well, at least we know one good thing that happened from our little romp in the woods, you grew a backbone.” Sam’s satisfied smirk caught him off guard. Was she preening? However, her eyes narrowed as her gaze drifted towards where the underclassman disappeared. “But what was that about? You looked like you were going to have a fit when that girl walked by?”

“You noticed that too? I thought I was imaging things,” Tucker added as warning bell rang.

“Remind me to tell you at lunch. I’m not sure if it’s something others should hear.”

….

A few hours later, Danny and his friends found themselves huddled at one of the lunch tables at the far end of the cafeteria. While his friends took a few bites of their meals, he scanned the area to make sure no one was close enough to overhear them. His eyes eventually fell on the girl from earlier.

She seemed normal enough, especially since she was sitting next to Paulina. They wouldn’t have let her anywhere near them if they thought she was odd. However, even though her hair and clothing seemed immaculate, there was something stiff and unnatural in her posture. It was almost as if she was trying too hard to sit normally.

“Alright Danny, spill it.” Tucker’s voice made him jump. Glancing back at his friends, he realized they were both impatiently staring at him. “What happened earlier?”

“Let me ask this first: what do you know about that girl?” He gestured towards where she sat.

“Oh, you mean Maura?” Sam’s voice was full of spite. “She’s been trying to suck up to Paulina over the last two years. Apparently, she managed to get into Queen Bee’s good graces enough to be acknowledged as her unofficial successor. She’s just as mean and shallow as the rest of them. Why?”

“Because, according to the news, she went missing on a local trail around the same time we went missing in the forest. Eww! Tucker!”

Tucker’s apology for sitting out his drink was short as he brought out his PDA. After a few quick taps, he brandished it in front of him. After Sam snatched it from him, she and Danny discovered he brought up the article that matched the new report Danny saw. “Dude, that’s really weird.”

“I’d have to agree.” After Sam glanced at the article, she glanced towards the girl. “They found her in a dazed state but uninjured?”

“What was she even doing other there anyways?”

“With your attempts to hit on most of the girls in the school, I’m surprised you didn’t know.” Sam raised a questioning eyebrow towards Tucker. “She’s a member of the cross country team. From what I’ve overheard, it’s fairly normal for her to train on the trails around the area.”

“Oh, I forgot about that.”

“Do you know anything else about her? What?” Danny hadn’t expected Sam to scowl at him. “Look, I get you don’t like her, but the news said something about how her parents said she felt off to them. And when we made eye contact earlier, it was like my entire being screamed something was very wrong and very dangerous.” He glanced in Maura’s direction again. “Look at the way she’s sitting. Something doesn’t feel right.”

“Danny, did you ever think it was possibly less supernatural?” A sigh escaped Sam when he just raised an eyebrow. “She honestly could have just seen something she shouldn’t have. I mean, it’s not weird for drug dealers, cultists, and other people who don’t want to be seen do their business in the woods.” After glancing back over towards Maura, a deep frown crossed Sam’s face. “It is weird that it happened the same day though.”

“Hmm… maybe. I mean, it did happen the same day. Can we just keep an eye on her, just to be safe?”

“I’m cool with it.” Tucker adjusted his glasses before glancing back at the A-listers.

“Of course you would be.” Sam shook her head in disapproval before turning back to Danny. “I think you’re being paranoid, but I’ll let you know if I see or hear anything weird.”

“I appreciate it.” While he knew his friends were humoring him, Danny couldn’t help but feel somewhat relieved. After a moment, a memory from the morning came to mind. “Hey, did either of you see a lot of police this morning? There were a bunch a few blocks away from my house.”

Instead of immediately replying, Tucker paled as he quickly checked something on his PDA. “Damn it, there was another one.”

“Another what?” Both Sam and Danny echoed as Tucker shoved the PDA into Danny’s hand. A brief glance showed the article was about a recent death in Amity Park.

Before Danny had a chance to read more, Tucker launched into a hushed explanation. “You guys know my mom works for the 911 call center, right? Well, she said something about there being a lot of weird deaths recently.”

“Weird how? Like normal weird, as in ‘person’s weird hobby got them’? Or strange weird as in ‘that’s effed up’?”

“Like ‘that’s effed up’. Sam, you need to stop laying off the true crime shows if you’re make distinctions like that. Anyways,” the techno-geek leaned in as he lowered his voice again, “when my mom asked a police officer friend about it, he stated that they think there might be a serial killer.”

“A what?” Danny felt the blood run from his face. Did Tucker really just say what he thought he did?

“Dude, keep your voice down! But yeah, that’s what they’re thinking because the victims all have something important ‘missing from their person’.”

An uneasy sensation pooled at the bottom of Danny’s stomach. “What exactly is missing?”

A frown crossed Tucker’s face before he responded. “You know, I’m not really sure. Mom doesn’t want to say anything about it. I just chalked it up to the police not wanting to spread information on what they have.”

“But you’d think if it was something as simple as a personal item, they’d could at least specify that,” Sam mentioned. After glancing around to make sure no one was nearby, she continued. “That makes me worried there’s something more sinister going on.”

“You’re the true crime expert. How common is that?”

“It’s extremely common for killers to take souvenirs, but it’s insanely rare for them to… err… take part of a body.” Her voice pitched in discomfort as she spoke.

“And on that note, I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

Sam grabbed his arm as he went to stand. “Come on, Danny. That’s most likely not what’s happening here.”

“With everything else we’ve recently dealt with and learned, that’s not something I want to hear. Do you remember what Frostbite told us? Do you remember what you said Plasmius talked about? I don’t want to get paranoid for no reason.” With that, he gathered his items and walked off.

….

As the week came to a close, Danny noted it almost seemed the entire town was on edge. People on the streets spoke in quiet whispers about what the police were doing. His fellow students tended to go straight home after school instead of hanging out in the normal spots. Even the animals seemed on edge. Several times he caught dogs whimpering if their owners stopped for any reason.

His parents’ research did little to help his unease. Their scanners signaled several times that week. According to his mother, they were detecting electrical abnormalities, but the abnormalities only seemed to last for a few minutes. His parents were concerned about the sudden spike in them and were doing all they could to attempt to find some sort of explanation. People also started calling around the times of the spikes reporting sightings of odd shadows.

To make matters worse, he was having trouble falling asleep. Normally, he’d chalk it up to insomnia, but his body didn’t seem to feel tired in the morning after only three or four hours. It was as if the normal amount of sleep was just not needed. While he wasn’t certain if it was a weird side effect of his ghostly affliction, Sam’s mention of ghosts drawing energy from strong emotions often came to mind. He hoped that wasn’t the case, but he couldn’t outright dismiss it.

Around eleven in the morning on Saturday, he received a text from Tucker. It simply said he had some important information for him and Sam, and that he wanted them to meet up. Sam immediately offered her home as her parents were out of town for the weekend. After sending his reply, Danny got ready and headed out.

Normally, it only took ten to fifteen minutes on his electric scooter to reach Sam’s, but he decided to take a slightly longer route to give himself a little longer to clear his thoughts. Rounding a corner to go through a commonly used alleyway, he came to a screeching stop as a cold chill and the feeling of wrongness overcame his body. Clutching his chest, his breath misted in front of him as he glanced around the alley.

Nothing seemed off, but the feeling refused to go away. Unnerved, he decided he needed to get out of there as quickly as possible. However, when he rounded the corner that would allow him to pass behind some of the buildings he found something he was unable to register what was in front of him.

His mind eventually processed the sound of dripping and an angry hiss, and almost like fog lifting from his eyes, he finally made sense of the scene. Someone was lying on the ground. Blood completely covered his chest and must have come from the large wound in the center of it. Danny was almost certain the man wasn’t breathing.

Something stood almost protectively over the body. It was mostly humanoid, but the sickly gray of its skin and skeletal frame showed it certainly wasn’t human. Black eyes seemed to glow in hatred. Something red and dripping blood rested in its hand.

Danny backed away in fear. He had no idea what the thing was, but he knew it was dangerous. To make matters worse, it knew he was there. Slowly, he decided to back away from it. At first, it seemed like it was fine with his retreat, but after sticking whatever it was holding inside its own chest, it dropped its hands to the grounds and walked forward on its knuckles.

Not knowing what else to do, Danny ran. As soon as he turned his back, the thing bolted after him. He barely made it halfway back through the alley before the thing was on top of him. As it tried to attack, he managed to knock it aside. The thing growled before lunging again. It was too close for him to attempt to escape, so he help up his hands and braced himself.

But no attack ever came. Instead, the thing bounced off of a translucent green wall with a sickening splat. After a few dazed steps and a shake of the head, it hissed while appraised whether or not it could get to him. It hesitantly touched the wall, only to pull back its hand with a yelp of pain. After baring its teeth, it stepped backwards. As it moved, its body jerked, cracked, and popped as it slowly morphed into what appeared to be an old woman.

As it disappeared around the corner, Danny’s knees gave way, and the strange green wall disappeared. He just stared in the direction where the thing disappeared as his mind tried to process exactly what just happened. It wasn’t until his phone buzzed, that he clambered to his feet and ran out of the alley. His fingers shook as he called the police.

....

The police and paramedics arrived in less than ten minutes. As the police examined the scene, the paramedics treated Danny for mild shock. While he sat on the rear step of the ambulance, he watched the police did their job.

Most of the officers wore grim expressions. Some whispered to each other. One of the younger ones had to excuse himself as he felt sick from the sight of the victim. Eventually, one of the older officers approached him for a statement.

Danny tried to be as truthful as possible. He described the creature as a thin and sickly looking person. After some internal debates, he finished by explaining it looked different as it moved away.

“Son, what do you mean?” There was a deep edge in the officer’s voice. “You better not be messing with me.”

“I… I really don’t know. Maybe it… he had one of those creepy realistic masks or something, but I’m telling you, he looked different right before it disappeared.”

The officer frowned as he stared at Danny. “I don’t think you’re lying, but shock sometimes warps what we think we see. Next week we’ll call you to the station to make an official statement.” He sighed before continuing. “We’ve contacted your parents. One of my juniors will take you home. Take it easy for the rest of the weekend, you hear me?”

After another fifteen minutes, Danny found himself in the front seat of a cruiser. Neither Danny nor the officer spoke for the entirety of the ride, and soon, they were in front of Fenton Works. After telling Danny to stay safe, the officer left him to be swept into the arms of his mother.

His mother was understandably scared. The officer who called the house told her there was an incident and that he was okay, but due to the investigation, he was unable to give any details. After letting her have a few tears of relief, he asked if they could go inside. Maddie ushered him into the house.

His father and friends were waiting for him in the living room. Sam rushed over to him to pull him into a hug while his dad and Tucker shared a smirk. His mother excused herself to go get everyone hot chocolate and cookies. Once she returned, Danny told them what happened. Unlike with the officers, the only detail he left out was the green wall.

He knew his friends would ask why he was so open with his parents, but without knowing exactly what he saw, he figured the two paranormal experts would be the best source for information. And, he wasn’t disappointed.

“Sweetie, you know it was probably a person, but your father and I will do some digging,” his mother promised. “You described something that sounds too much like some of the legends in Native American folklore. And with all of the abnormalities we’ve been detecting recently, I don’t want to be foolish enough to rule it out.”

“Don’t worry, Dann-o.” His father’s grin was infectious. “We’ll find those spooks and take care of them for you. To the lab.”

As the behemoth of a man disappeared down the stairs to the lab, his mother just fondly shook her head. “Get some rest. Sam, Tucker, let me take you home. I don’t think your parents would be too happy with me if I didn’t.”

“Thanks Mrs. F. I appreciate it. Can I take some cookies home? My mom loves your snickerdoodles.”

“Sure, let me go get a container for you.”

When she disappeared into the kitchen, Danny leaned forward and whispered. “Thanks for the distraction, Tuck. Guys, one other thing did happen. I… I think one of my abilities activated. I’ll call you guys later with the details. It’s probably the only reason that thing didn’t kill me.”

Before either of his friends could reply, his mother returned to the room carrying a container full of cookies. “Alright you two, let’s get going.”

Once he was left alone in the living room, Danny decided it was the perfect time to get a shower. After everything that happened, it would help him sort through his thoughts. He hoped his parents were right. Maybe it was just a strange looking man, but the wrongness of what he saw and the thing’s transformation told him otherwise.

========================================

Notes: I’m not sure how familiar people will be with it, but Cross Country Running is a type of long distance running, and at least in the US, it’s a Fall sport. However, it’s not on a track or indoors. Runners are usually on fields, trails, the in woods, etc., depending on the area. If you’re in the Allegheny plateau, it’s common to see the trails involve hills and/or some type of wooded area.

The creature is based off of a story (which I still can't find again) was submitted to a YouTuber channel that goes by “Darkness Prevails.” The channel tends to read a lot of accounts submitted to it. And while the stories cannot be verified under most circumstances, all stories are claimed true by the submitters.

The story that heavily inspired it is from a narrator who explained that her dad barred her from seeing a family friend (who she viewed as an uncle) after something that happened after a camping trip. She ended up encountering the family friend a couple years later and was invited to his home. The house was unkempt and stunk, and there seemed to be a strange substance everywhere. The friend and his wife were both acting strangely. After being lured to the kitchen, the friend tried attacking her, and she managed to escape and called the police. She was told her uncle had seemingly up and left a few years prior. After questioning father ended up explaining that when he and his friend were gathering firewood on that trip, they were chased by something that sounded like a pack of coyotes or wolves. The friend fell when they were running back to camp, and the dad lost sight of him. When the dad got back to camp, he tried to get his wife and the friend’s wife to call for help. However, they heard the friend call from the forest, and the friend's wife went to help him. When they returned, they seemed off. They spoke strangely and walked stiffly. Normal tasks seemed to baffle them. The dad didn’t know what happened to his friend and his wife, but he was convinced that what was left was something impersonating them.

Stories like this pop up in folklore, and there are a lot of online stories telling of similar encounters. However, it is difficult to tell what’s a true account and what might be a “Creepypasta.” There is a rather famous folklore entity in First Nation stories in the Southwest US that is sometimes said to wear others skins. The most famous stories are from the Navajo, but other tribes also have them in their folklore. However, there is also a spirit called Kanaima from the Carib tribes that is somewhat similar. Some renditions of Wendigos (traditionally Algonquin) also put them in this category. A Kee-wakw (Abenaki) might also fall into this.

And then I managed to combine the story with some of the information I know about the entity known as a Raven Mocker (from Cherokee lore). It’s another rather unsettling creature, and some accounts have it change shapes.

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