#very much effort into the mascara droop look
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making an oc and sheâs so cute
her nameâs Droop and sheâs a fully grown- teenager <- giving her a rebellious phase as we speak
#shes transfem woooooo!#was listening to literature lecture while doodling her so she hate literature#hates*#other than mascara she doesnât wear any makeup cuz they feel weird on her face#(sensory issues) (she tolerates mascara cuz it looks cool. bought waterbase ones so its not too hard to get off#when it rains tho- streaks of mascara drips#so she loves the rain but books it as soon as a drop hits her face#missy wont ever cry too cuz of it#very much effort into the mascara droop look#her shoes got wooden base and make fun click sound when she walks and she loves hopping around in them to make the sound louder#tall socks because ankle height means the edge of the socks would rub her ankles and she hates the feeling)#the cardigan is only for the outfit she will feel the tingles and throw it off in a minute#but depending on her mood she would prefer it on when leaning on rough surfaces#oc#oc: âdroop#i shall figure out surname later :3#she usually looks annoyed or bored but its just her relaxed face and she zones out lots#(droopy eyes are my favorite)#hoodieâs art#hoodieâs oc
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âș ââââââââââââââââââââââââ â»
⣠MasterpostÂ
⣠inspired by @haik-chooââs postÂ
⣠wc: 2.4k
⣠warnings: emotional pain, swearing, mentions of sex (not outright anything).
⣠format: mixed
âŁÂ song recommendation: 5 Seconds of Summer - Lover Of Mine & 5 Seconds Of Summer - Ghost Of You
âŁÂ preamble: atsumu miya never understands what he has until its too late. from a young age, he only focused on his own satisfaction and accordingly, his own pleasure. the only reason your relationship was able to stand the test of time was solely because of your accommodating nature. but sometimes, it still hurts⊠the lack of appreciation. would he truly care if you stopped leaving him little love notes in your shared apartment? would he notice if you stopped keeping pace with him during your morning walks? did he even care that you only woke up at the ungodly hour to spend more time with him? with those questions unanswered, some days you wonder if love should hurt this much. Â
After winning five consecutive matches, a formal banquet was arranged to celebrate MSBYâs notable achievement. The guest-list was littered with numerous B list celebrities, with the occasional A lister promising to attend. What was originally planned to be a small gathering morphed into an evening gala that attracted media coverage, and a significant crowd. Some were desperate to secure an invite solely to catch a glimpse of one of the star players; while others were significantly more interested in the foreign chief that would be designing the menu for the function. Whatever the motivation, each attendee expelled an aura of excitement, one that was highly contagious. Accompanying the delectable atmosphere was a sugary scent wafting throughout the establishment. It was what Atsumu Miya deemed heaven on earth.
The blonde setter had the stem of a wineglass tucked between two fingers nonchalantly, occasionally swaying the maroon liquid as he surveyed those around him. He adored these gatherings for numerous reasons, one being the unnaturally attractive crowd it allured. Not that he planned on approaching any of them with nefarious intentions â he had a date after-all. The same one for the last four years. You. However, he refused to believe there was any harm in simply admiring from afar what he could have but chose not to. It provided him a rush of exhilaration, knowing that if he chose, he could secure the interest of any woman within the vicinity. Oh yes, if only they were so lucky. But alas, they were not. Simply having their attention and compliments was enough, he was disinterested in the satisfaction of sleeping with them. The truth was, while they were surely attractive, none of them would provide him the consistency that came neatly packaged with you. To be blunt, you were easy. Low maintenance, as he explained two nights ago to his brother. Even now, rather than remain glued to his side, you were somewhere in the crowd, mingling with someone unknown. He preferred it this way, and you knew it.
Half an hour before dinner was to be served, Atsumu was invited to take a shot with the MSBY Ace. Bokutoâs best friend refused to drink, vowing to return home early to complete a manuscript, and so he sought a new drinking buddy. But when he approached the setter, his thoughts of drinking were replaced with a newfound concern. Atsumu notified his team-mate that his hair required a quick touch up. His usual spikes were beginning to droop, resembling a withering flower. Â
âAkaashi! Why didnât you tell me earlier? Tsum, do you have any gel?â A pout registered upon his lips as he attempted to sharpen the ends of his hair using his index finger and thumb. What if someone caught a photo of him appearing less than satisfactory? The Ace, ordinary or not, should appear extraordinary on a night dedicated to celebrating him (and his team-mates).
âI donât think it looks that bad, Bokuto-san.â The black-haired writer shook his head, prior to bringing the rim of his coffee cup to his lips. Okay, maybe he could have something earlier. But to his defence, he had only noticed the imperfection now. With a wave of exhaustion weighing over his eyelids, he was less perceptive than usual.
âYou know lying to him ainât gonna fix the problem, right?â Atsumu shifted his narrowed gaze at Akaashi questioningly, something the other male did not appreciate. âAnd do you really have to ask? Of course, I do. Come on.â The blonde tapped against his lower jacket pocket, where a thin container of hair-serum was kept.
âIâm going to my seat. Iâll meet you there when youâre done.â The comment was directed solely at Bokuto, in a tone that indicated the writer would rather not spend any âqualityâ time with the setter unless forced to. The brunette was not his biggest fan to say the least.
âIâll be back soon.â He was well aware that his best friend and team-mate were not particularly fond of one another, placing distance was perhaps the best available option. Once the writer was no longer present, the pair began walking towards the bathroom. âSay⊠Tsum, whereâs y/n?â Instinctively, the Aceâs golden irises searched the space around them for your familiar face.
âI dunno. Somewhere. Iâm sure Iâll see her at the dinner table, since weâre sitting together.â The disinterest laced in his tone startled the other male, who failed to mask his bewilderment. Atsumu ignored the puzzlement that shined in his team-mateâs eyes, dismissing the action with a limp shrug before entering the bathroom first.
Bokuto trailed in a second later, pausing at the mirror with a hand extended forward. âYou guys are really weird.â
Retrieving the container from his pouch, the blonde handed his team-mate the gel then began adjusting his own appearance, beginning by ushering aside some fallen strands. The observation that was offered only brought a little laugh to exit his mouth. âYeah? Why do you say that?â
âYou donât act like a real couple.â Bokuto did not intend to respond immediately, particularly because he desired to avoid the stare he was now receiving through the mirror. The lack of hesitation was not well received by the MSBY setter.
âWe donât need to abide by norms to be a couple, Bokkun.â Despite the sour taste curling around his tongue, Atsumu managed to maintain a smile on his lips, finding humour in his own explanation.
âAlright, so is that why you havenât proposed yet?â The white-haired Ace mentally scolded himself for his lack of restraint. He should have bit his tongue. Oh, if only he bit his tongue â
However, this was not the first time the question was posed to him. In fact, two days ago, it was exact topic that resulted in a very heated argument with his twin-brother. He truly did not understand why proposing was necessary. You both already lived together â was that not enough?
âItâs not that serious.â Tugging at his sleeves, the setter then adjusted his cufflinks. âI love her, but Iâm not sure sheâs the one. I donât know if I can really give everything up forever, for her. For the time-being, I donât mind. But Iâm not giving everything up just yet.â The final sentence uttered by the blonde was more of an affirmation to himself, one that did not register well with his team-mate. It seemed that everyone but Atsumu could see how much you did for him. His unappreciated nature was rather toxic.
âThat doesnât sound like love, dude.â
No. It certainly did not.
They say that the truth will always be revealed sooner or later. Perhaps Atsumu Miyaâs true feelings would have been revealed later, if he chose to lower his voice and restrict his sincerity. Had he known that you were outside, he certainly would have taken some precautions. But how could he have known that you were searching for him, when you ran into Akaashi? Who unfortunately knew exactly where he was?
How many warnings were issued by your friends over the years? Dozens? Hundreds? What would they say now? How many red flags did you ignore?Â
How curious how easily you confused ache for butterflies.
The strain circling inside of your temples morphed into a throb as the liquid distorting your vision began spilling down your cheeks, dragging your mascara along with it. Behind you someone whispered your name, fear gripping their throat and muffling the sound. But you were unable to recognize who the voice belonged to, as you no longer held the luxury of having a stable state of mind.
Lifting your trembling fingers to the area below your eyelids, you stumbled attempting to discard the substance hanging on your lashes. âI need to go. I⊠Oh, Iâm stupid. I just⊠I need to leave. Please.â Sluggishly, you shifted your body to face the person who addressed you earlier, seeking any aid that was offered. You couldnât face him. Not now. Maybe not ever.
âI know. Come on.â
Sakusa Kiyoomi accidentally stumbled onto the scene just as Atsumu began responding to the inquiry. He was not staggered to hear the cruel statements fall casually from his team-mateâs lips. Similar statements were uttered in the locker-room on numerous occasions. It was your reaction that tugged at his heart. No one deserved to hear the one they loved speak with such venom, and certainly not you. âLetâs go before they come out, shall we?â
The thrill of partying as a newly single bachelor provided Atsumu Miya temporary satisfaction. Each night a strangerâs mouth was attached to his, as he clung to them, desperate to combat the vanilla scent that circulated in the apartment, even weeks after your departure. How many girls had now laid in the exact spot you once occupied on the bed? Dozens? And yet, every morning when he awoke, he continuously thought it was you in his arms, and not someone whose name he did not bother remembering. His endeavours to erase you were fruitless. Not due to a lack of effort, but because the truth was⊠He didnât want to forget you.
It took a month for the realization to settle in. No longer interested in the meaningless sex that was offered by mistresses of the night, he found himself unable to leave the apartment unless there was a match scheduled. It was the only location where he could feel some connection to you. Particularly when intoxicated, he swore he could hear you whisper soothing sentiments into his ears, dispelling his fears that you no longer loved him.
But each morning, reality would register once more, providing him a metaphorical jab to his chest.
Today was no different.
It had been forty days since the gala. Forty days to mull over how just how much you did for him, and just how little he did for you. It wasnât always like this. Over the years, he became too accustomed to your giving nature. Soon, he developed a toxic mentality that he was entitled to everything you provided. But it wasnât always like that. It wasnât. At least that was what he repeated to himself, hoping it was the truth.
After downing a liter of water, the throbbing in his head had dimmed to a tolerable level. And once the lights no longer strained his eyes, he reached for his phone, determination igniting in his heart.Â
âHi.â The greeting was exhaled softly into the phone, as anxiety prompted your heart to beat irregularly. The uncertainty of what would be said by your former lover had your thoughts tangled into an incoherent mess.
âHey. Thanks for talking with me.â Atsumu pressed a fist against his mouth, muffling the small whimper that threatened to sound. Oh fuck. You actually picked up. A single word overwhelmed him with the storm of emotions he usually suppressed with alcohol.
A little hum was given to acknowledge his gratitude, it was honestly the best you could offer. But it was unlike you to be so quiet. The thought that he impacted you this much only expanded the guilt he was suffocating in.
âWas I always this bad?â The setterâs eyes stung with fresh tears forming along his lids. Did he even deserve to speak with you now?
Inhaling a lengthy breath of air, silence greeted him for a minute as you mustered the courage to respond. You knew you should hate him. and yet, hearing the tremor in his voice broke your heart. Was it really your fault that you still loved him?
âYou werenât.â You prayed the words were audible, since you were unsure whether you would be able to repeat yourself.
The blonde found the slightest bit of relief in your response, although it only eased a tenth of the tension he was battling to contain. Swallowing once, he strived to stabilize his breathing.
âWill you give me another chance?â
You caught onto the small crack in his voice, symbolizing his distress and sincerity simultaneously. But you wished you hadnât.
âAtsumu. I canât be with someone who doesnât see a future with me.â Even now, stating a reminder of what you heard activated the emotional wound you spent the last month attempting to heal. Could you truly ever get passed this?
âI canât see a future without you in it.â He interjected, not missing a beat. He refused to deny it any longer. He was an idiot, but he loved you. It was more than the fact you were low maintenance. He knew that now.
âI feel like I wasted four years, do you understand that?â His confession promoted a swarm of butterflies to parade inside of your stomach, but the mental reminder of your friends scoldings kept you grounded. Pretty words would not heal the damage. Not this time. âIâm sorry. I canât waste any moreâŠâ
âYou wonât have to, y/n. I promise. Let me take care of you this time. It will be different.â At this point he was essentially begging you to place trust in his promises, even if he had no credibility.
Maybe it was unhealthy how much you wished his promise to be true. How desperate you were to lower your armor and envelope him into your embrace instead. You knew your friends would never approve of him, but his pleads were weaved together with a vulnerability you had never heard before. Before you could stop yourself, the one word the setter was waiting for left your mouth.Â
âOkay.â Dropping your face into your palm, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip.Â
The second you agreed, the blonde was already on his feet, fetching his keys before rushing to the front door. It had been so long since the setter was flooded with joy, he could barely contain himself. âWhere are you? Iâm coming to you now.â Clicking the lock to a close, he nestled his phone against his shoulder.
Upon hearing the shuffling in his background followed by his question, you instantly shot up to your feet, feeling a surge of hope enter your system. âDonât you have practice soon?â You certainly did not expect this. Not at all.
Pausing in the middle of the hallway, he blew out a scoff. âI donât fucking care. I need you in my arms now. Text me the address and Iâll be there. I fucking love you, y/n I love you so much. Iâll never let you go again. I promise.â
It should be noted that he wholeheartedly intended to keep that promise, and thankfully⊠he did.
Taglist: @idiot-juice-enthusiastâ @shakiraisawesomeâ
#atsumu x reader#atsumu x y/n#atsumu x you#atsumu miya#atsumu imagines#atsumu haikyuu#atsumu scenarios#atsumu angst#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu imagines
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PPG One-Shot:Â âGirlfriend Material.â (Brick/Blossom)
February Fic Prompt #21 - Authorâs Choice
For the wonderful @carriedreamerx, a fellow Reds die-hard and all-around A+ lady. Also can be read as kind of a part 2 to an earlier one-shot called Shook.
Summary: Blossom is having a bad day. Brick accidentally makes her feel better.
xxx
The four most dreaded words in the English language haunted Blossom after Julieâs party on Friday. Theyâd ruined the night, causing her to leave at nine p.m. alone, she didnât want to drag Bubbles home early just because of her. Theyâd ruined her weekend plansâmovie night with her sisters and Robin, studying at her favorite table at the public library, and Sunday family brunch. Through it all, Blossom was quiet and morose, and no one could get her to talk about why.
Why.
Those four stupid, little words.
They were just words, sticks and stones, as she often would tell Bubbles whenever she got upset about teasing that went too far.
âYouâre not girlfriend material.â
Just four words.
xxx
Mondayâs alarm went off at six a.m. sharp, and Blossom rose on autopilot to brush her teeth and get ready for school. She was halfway through applying a bit of mascara when she realized Bubbles wasnât awake, and the Professor hadnât called up to announce breakfast. And then she remembered.
Fall Break.
Blossom slumped over the sink, heavy and lethargic, the tube of mascara limp in her hand. How could she forget they had a whole week off from classes? Where was her head?
Her reflection was washed out and pale in the morning gloom through the bathroom window, and she looked ridiculous with only one eye made up. Sighing, she hastily did the other one, put the mascara away, and went to get dressed. Bubbles slept like a rock on her stomach even through Blossomâs alarm. The girl could have slept through an earthquake, no doubt. Buttercup, however, shifted in her bed.
âGoing somewhere?â she called in a raspy, sleep-addled voice.
Blossom smiled and smoothed her sisterâs mussed bangs. Even though there was no longer any visible trace of the many injuries she had sustained fighting Butch on Friday, Buttercup would need a couple more days of rest to get back to her regular shape. The IV drip next to her bed held a bag of Chemical X, nearly drained as it fed her through the night little by little.
âI forgot weâre on break,â Blossom said softly so as not to wake Bubbles.
âYou nerd.â
Buttercupâs eyes drooped, but a smile tugged at her chapped lips. Blossom grabbed her half empty glass from the nightstand and refilled it in the bathroom sink.
âGo back to sleep,â Blossom said, leaving the fresh glass of water on the nightstand.
Buttercup turned over in bed and pulled the covers over her head. âWay ahead of you.â
That was that. Blossom floated to the window and quietly unhooked the latch. The Professor was moving around downstairs, but she didnât much feel like talking to him right now. No doubt he would press her about Friday again, as heâd tried several times this weekend. The sun was rising steadily in the distance, casting the suburbs in a strange, dewy glow.
âHey,â Buttercup called.
Blossom paused.
âWhatever it is, it canât hurt you. Youâre a badass.â
Blossom bit her trembling lip. It was suddenly hard to breathe. She glanced back at Buttercup, but she was under the covers with her back to her. Even so, Blossom could not bring herself to speak. If she did, she might say too much.
She slipped out of the window, pulled it closed behind her, and flew towards Townsville.
xxx
Logically speaking, the sun rises in the east, days turn to weeks, and nothing lasts forever. Not thunderstorms, not youth, and not even pain.
âYouâre not girlfriend material.â
Blossom flew over Townsville waking up. It had rained last night, and the fog was thick over the bay as it battled the encroaching sun. Sheâd read a short story once about monsters in the mist. Gruesome, Lovecraftian horror, the type she never sought out but couldnât refuse when it was a recommendation from her English teacher. There were no monsters in the mists shrouding Townsville of course, but she imagined them all the same, lurking voyeurs.
One day, she wouldnât even remember this morning, this feeling, the quiet so high up insulating her from the city sounds far below, tires screeching and jackhammers crunching and a thousand feet scuttling. Logically speaking, none of it mattered.
But it still hurt.
She wasnât hungry, and she wasnât cold. She was rarely cold, being a block of ice herself. The ice queen. An unoriginal and lazy moniker, but one that stuck among her peers. Smart, studious Blossom. Commander and the leader, itâs lonely at the top. Come down from your snowcapped throne now and again to walk among us poor plebeians, why donât you?
They werenât all like that. The ones who mattered, mattered. Usually it didnât bother her anyway. Sticks and stones, as they said, but they also said the pen is mightier than the sword. So which is it?
âYouâre not girlfriend material.â
Logically speaking, people told themselves what they needed to hear to make themselves believe everything was fine.
âYouâre not girlfriend material.â
Just four paper-thin words.
âYouâre not girlfriend material.â
âYouâre not girlfriend material.â
âYouâre not girlfriend material.â
Just four soul-crushing, little words.
xxx
Logically speaking, there were no monsters in the mist.
xxx
Brick wasnât sure why he went.
Up at the ass-crack of dawn because his alarm was set to repeat and heâd forgotten to turn it off for the Fall Break week, there was no going back to sleep now that the damage was done. Boomer flung his pillow at Brickâs bed to try to kill that screeching alarm, hit him in the face, and suffered a very hard, very warranted shove off the sofa.
âDude, what the fuuuuuuck?â Boomer whined from the floor in his boxers.
âWhat the fuck do you mean, what the fuck?â Brick demanded. âWhy are you sleeping on my couch?â
Boomer rubbed his tired eyes. âButchâs snoring is so loud since he started that X drip and I canât take it anymore!â
âNot my problem.â Brick went to his closet to pull on a fresh shirt. Fuck, it was cold this morning. He grabbed a hoodie from a hanger.
âBriiiiiick,â Boomer whined. âIâm so tired.â
Jesus fucking Christ.
âIâm going out. You better not be in here when I get back.â
Boomer was already crawling back onto his couch as he left his room to use the bathroom though. Whatever, it was too early to deal with Boomerâs crap. The two-bedroom apartment was claustrophobic this morning, like the walls were closing in on Brick, and he had the immediate urge to get out.
After he cleaned up, threw on his cap, and grabbed his keys, he took off into the early morning sky with no destination in mind as long as it wasnât home.
Fall Break. What was he supposed to do for an entire week? At least Butch was out of commission paying for the consequences of his hormonal jack-assery. Boomer had his friends to hang with, but he could get clingy when the brothers were confined to home without a schedule. And Brick was pretty sure he remembered Wes saying he was going to be out of town with his folks, so that left Boomer best friend-less for the foreseeable future.
Hence, Brick wasnât sure why he went to the ruined Shankaplex lot. Only, his head was full of all these useless thoughts and he wasnât thinking straight and anyway it was hard to miss with that enormous fucking crane theyâd brought in to help clear up the remains of the movie theater parking lot Butch and Blossom had completely demolished in their fight.
She was already there.
Her red hair cut through the grey of the broken asphalt and concrete like the sun through the rain-cold fog, but little about Blossom was warm. Brick frowned at the thought. He hadnât seen her since Julieâs party, and even then only for a few minutes. Sheâd left really early.
She sat alone on the roof of the neighboring Cooperâs Market watching a team of construction workers in orange vests slowly working to clear the mess of tree trunks forcibly uprooted during the fight. They were scattered like dominoes on the asphalt. Brickâs eyes traveled from the back of Blossomâs head to a particularly deep crater where sheâd stood towering over Butch, cowed like Brick had hardly ever seen him before, her eyes red with power as they lifted to meet his.
He barely touched down when she sensed him and turned. Her eyes were red, like before, but not with power.
Blossom hastily wiped her puffy eyes and the few tears wetting her cheeks. âWhat are you doing here?â
Brick froze where he stood. Every instinct in him told him to flee, get the fuck out of there, her tears were not for him to see. Heart pounding in his ears, he clenched his suddenly clammy fists because he couldnât think of anything else to do with them. âNothing,â he said, like a total idiot.
Fuck, sheâs fucking crying, what the fuck?
âWhat are you doing here?â he asked, still in full-on idiot mode.
Oh thank god, sheâd turned away. He couldnât see her crying anymore, but that little sniffle sent a chilling pang down his spine that was almost painful. He suppressed a growl at the sensation.
âMy alarm woke me up,â she said glumly. âI forgot to turn it off for the week.â
Brick stood petrified behind her, and it was a wonder that she couldnât hear his heart hammering loud enough to give him a headache. Her banal words were a lifeline he clung to through the noise, and he swallowed hard.
âMe too,â he said. âHabit.â
She nodded, as if the effort to respond was too great, and it was the respite he needed to calm the fuck down. He considered just leaving, but sheâd acknowledged him, and leaving now would look like running. Brick didnât run, especially not from her.
Feet leaden, he shuffled to the edge of the roof and sank down a respectable armâs length away from her. She said nothing, and their legs dangled over the edge overlooking the red and white striped awning. A big, neon sign advertising the grocery store buzzed and glowed yellow at the other end of the roof. Brick took off his hat, ran his fingers through his hair, and put it back on. Still, she said nothing, so he glanced at her.
She was in jeans and a plain, white tank top, no frills and not even her usual pearl studs she always wore. Her hair was long and loose, draping her shoulders. Brick shivered just looking at her. Wasnât she cold?
âHowâs Butch?â she asked.
It took Brick a moment to comprehend her question. She was looking right at him. Despite a little residual puffiness, her eyes were dry as a bone.
âSleeping it off,â Brick said.
She nodded and went back to watching the construction workers.
Brick racked his brain for something to say to her. âItâs actually kind of nice having him out of commission. Everythingâs quieter.â
She hugged one knee to her chest and shrank in on herself, and he bit his tongue.
Great.
Heâd never had a problem talking to Blossom before. She was just Blossom, the uptight, annoying, micromanager he had to put up with in all his classes and at some social functions where their friend circles overlapped. She was just always there, always shrewd, always ready to shut him down if he so much as breathed at her funny. But this was like pulling teeth. What had changed?
Well, he knew exactly what had changed. Right there in that crater, in fact. He could picture it so clearly, could hear the pride in her voice as she exuded her total and absolute control like sheâd been born to do it, and heâd never quite noticed before. How had he never noticed before? She was always right there.
âCan I ask you something?â She tugged on her hair. Nervous habit.
Why is she nervous?
Brick dug his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. âYeah, I guess.â
âAm I girlfriend material?â
He stared, waiting for her to crack, but Blossom never cracked.
Oh.
She was serious.
âGirlfriend material?â he repeated. It took every ounce of his incredible self-control to keep his voice neutral as he studied her impassive face.
âGirlfriend material,â she confirmed.
And damn, could she be cold when she wanted to be. Not even her tears could shake her now as she watched him, waiting on his answer like they were at war and it was go or get out of the way.
âTo a specific person?â
âObjectively speaking.â
âThatâs not an objective question.â
âSure it is.â
He frowned. âNo, itâs not.â
âWestern beauty standards would suggest otherwise.â
âSo you want to know if youâre hot?â
âThatâs not what I asked.â
âBut itâs the standard youâre basing your question on.â
She wrung her fingers in her hair. âI guess itâs related. But thatâs entirely my point. There are certain traits or standards that inform what makes someone girlfriend material.â
âObjectively speaking.â
She nodded. âYes.â
Brick considered her. She was nervous, fucking crying when heâd found her. It didnât take a genius to deduce what had probably happened, even though he was, in fact, a genius and she was completely transparent right now, besides.
Is she messing with me?
If she was, the crying was some Olympic level acting heâd never known her capable of. Blossom was many things, but she wasnât duplicitous.
How was this nervous, self-conscious girl the same one who had completely dominated Butch in a fight and loved every minute of being seen doing it?
Brick cleared his very dry throat and sat cross-legged to face her. âYou mentioned traits and standards. What are the others?â
âOthers?â
âThat make someone girlfriend material. We already established that number one, she has to be hot.â
âI mean, I wouldnât say super model hot, but probably conventionally attractive.â
He waved her off. âFine, whatever. Next?â
Blossom thought about that. âWell, I guess she should be nice.â
âFine, but she canât be boring.â
âBeing nice doesnât mean youâre boring.â
âIt does if thatâs all you are.â
âOf course thatâs not all I am.â
Brick snorted. âNo, youâre a hell of a lot more than that.â
Blossom narrowed her eyes. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âNothing. She should be smart.â
Blossom looked like she wanted to press him, but she refrained. âI agree. Intelligence is attractive.â
âBut not too smart.â
âExcuse me?â
âAnd social, but not annoying about it. She should be able to keep up and complement you in any situation, but not overshadow or steal the spotlight.â
Blossom flushed in anger. âYou realize how incredibly misogynistic that is, donât you?â
Brick shrugged. âYou said objectively speaking.â
âOh, and you think all guys want is a party girl with above average looks and below average brains to stroke their egos?â
âNo, I think your premise itself is flawed and I was proving my point. Thereâs no such thing as the objectively perfect girlfriend. Thatâs bullshit, and anyone who says otherwise is an idiot.â He watched her avert her gaze like a timid little bird. âAnyone who tries to meet such a bullshit standard is also an idiot.â
That got her attention, and she turned angry, pink eyes on him. âIâm the last person on the planet you should be calling an idiot.â
âI was speaking objectively,â he sneered.
Okay, that was petty, he could admit that to himself. But it was worth it to see the indignation on her pretty face. She got up in a blaze of pink. He was not far behind.
âThis was a mistake. I donât even know why Iâm talking to you of all people.â She began to walk away.
He followed. âThat makes two of us.â
The sun was up now, and more construction workers had shown up to operate the crane. Even up on the roof, it was beginning to get a little noisy for anyone with sensitive Super hearing.
Nonetheless, they remained on the roof.
xxx
Conceited jerk, Blossom fumed on the other side of the roof with her arms crossed. Why do I even bother?
The conceited jerk didnât know how to take a hint.
âYouâre not actually upset,â Brick said.
Blossom glared back at him. âYou donât get to tell me how I feel.â
âWhy?â
âWhy donât you get to dictate my feelings?â
âNo, obviously. I meant why are you upset?â
Her lip trembled, but she bit down on it hard enough to hurt. No way was she going to cry in front of him again. Bad enough that heâd surprised her. âDonât do that.â
âDo what?â
âPretend like you care.â
Red sparks crackled on his skin. Blossom felt the sudden push of his choleric power like a punch to the gut, but she held her ground. It was over so fast that it left her breathless.
He closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. âThis is so fucking stupid.â
For once, Blossom was inclined to agree with him.
âWho was it?â he asked.
âIâm sorry?â
âAt Julieâs party. Whoever told you that youâre not girlfriend material. Who was it?â
Blossom shook her head, stunned. âThatâs not⊠You werenât even thereââ
âYou ran outta there like the place was on fire right after I got there,â he interrupted her. âSo who was it?â
Blossom continued to stare at him. Angry Brick she could handle. Smarmy, arrogant, crass Brick she was used to brushing aside, loudly challenging, or ignoring completely depending on the mood. But thisâno, not concerned, certainly not, more like curious Brickâwas a subtle beast.
âDoes it matter?â she asked.
âJust tell me.â
Without Blossom realizing how or when, something had shifted between them. She had never been afraid of Brick, not even when they were kids and literally trying to destroy each other to no avail, and she wasnât afraid now. But something in his countenance, in the casual way he rested his hands in his hoodie pockets, the power to crush mountains kept at bay with frightening ease, gave her pause.
Logically speaking, there are no monsters in the mist.
None that could hurt her, anyway.
âJustâŠsome girls,â Blossom said in a voice she hardly recognized. âJust some mean girls.â
Just four little words that hit like bullets.
âUh-huh,â he said.
Blossom could not begin to understand why, but standing there on the roof with him as the construction workers hammered away below, she was struck with an overwhelming sadness as bleak as the fog that settled in the streets. If he were anyone else, his pity would have shamed her. But Brick had never once pitied her.
âI donât get it,â she said. She was bullet proof. Sheâd faced monsters and demons and nightmares alike. Buttercup may be the toughest, and Bubbles may be light in the darkness, but Blossom was always in control, and control was power. It was everything. She could even face Brickâs chaotic brother on a Chemical X bender, and it felt good. Sheâd felt good. But this, these four damning words, hit her where she was weakest and most vulnerable, and she just couldnât help it.
For all her power and control, she was just a seventeen-year-old girl who wanted to fit in.
She hugged herself close, wishing someone else would. âI donât get it all.â
âI know.â
Blossom looked up. Sheâd forgotten Brick was even still there, but there he remained, stock still and staring off into the distance, his jaw set.
âYouâŠâ
âI mean, I get it,â he snapped. He scowled, but not at her.
Bewildered, Blossom could only stare as Brick became even more uncomfortable than she was. And then, it hit her.
âAre you trying to make me feel better?â
âIâm just saying.â
She stepped closer, unsure if she was hallucinating. âWhy?â
He took off his cap and roughly carded his fingers through his short hair. âBecause itâs fucking stupid. Not you, but you being so upset. Not like thatââ he preempted her protest that never came, ââjust that they could make you feel so shitty when youâre soâŠâ He gestured to her.
âSo what?â
His face flushed in anger. âYou know, you.â
Blossom frowned. âI donât understandââ
âYouâre you. Class president, smart as fuck, you know, future Time Person of the Year type of shitââ
âThatâs notââ
ââso beautiful and you know it. Hey, donât make that innocent face. Youâve always known youâre gorgeous, youâre just too busy being nice to the morons in this city who couldnât tie their goddamned shoes without whining for help to make a big deal out of itââ
Blossom matched his flush. âJust because people need my help sometimes doesnât make them moronsââ
ââand it just pisses me the fuck off because youâre this force of nature who can make my psychotic brother eat a dick one minuteââ
âOh my godââ
ââbut then you fall apart because of what a bunch of obnoxious high school girls say to you drunk at a party? Jesus fucking Christ, Blossom.â
Blossom was so livid that she didnât hesitate even a second to get in his face. âDonât speak to me like that.â
Brick leaned down so close their noses nearly touched. âLike what?â
âLike youâre so above it all when you just admitted to me that youâre not.â Pink sparks materialized upon her skin as her temper flared to match his. How dare he try to play her for a fool? He of all people knew better.
Brickâs fingers on her cheek were the last thing she expected, and she recoiled with a gasp. Her power danced between his fingers, caught and mingling with his, and he made a slow fist one finger at a time. Blossom watched, mesmerized and unable to fathom why, but her eyes were blown wide and her lips parted.
Brickâs gaze flickered from his fist back to her, and she bit her lip. He had never looked at her like that before, exceptâŠ
Except when she shoved Butch into the ground, exhausted and sore, and found Brick watching her like she was all that was worth looking at in this world. Shock and awe, sheâd chalked it up to surprise at her actually beating Butch. Of course heâd underestimate her just like his brother, like everyone else. But no, that wasnât right. This close to him, that heated look was unmistakable now. Â
The moment passed like the sun dipping behind a cloud, and he pulled back. He slipped his hand back into his hoodie pocket and smiled in that subtle, diabolical way heâd perfected years ago. âMuch better.â
Blossom swallowed hard. Had she⊠Had she imagined it?
She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but her stomach growled, excruciatingly loud to her Super hearing and his.
Brick burst out laughing.
Mortified, Blossom blanched and covered her mouth and wished she could just disappear. âOh my god,â she groaned. âIâm leaving.â
And she would have flown right out of there if he hadnât grabbed her wrist. Still grinning, he tugged her back. âNo, donât leave.â
Blossom squeezed her eyes shut and wondered why the universe hated her so much. âWeâre really done here.â
âThen letâs go somewhere else.â
The initial embarrassment faded, and she was left to wonder at his very odd choice of words. âWhat?â
âThereâs a 1950s style diner I like a few blocks from here. I skipped breakfast too.â
He wasnât laughing at her anymore as he waited on her acquiescence.
His hand was fire around her wrist. For the first time that morning, she started to feel the chill.
âAll right,â she said.
âAll right.â He let her go and began to float. âThis way.â
Logically speaking, the sun rises in the east, days turn to weeks, and nothing lasts forever. Not thunderstorms, not youth, and not even pain.
Especially not pain.
Blossom sipped on the best vanilla milkshake sheâd ever tasted as Brick rattled off dish after dish to the flabbergasted waitress who could not be blamed for not knowing the curse of Chemical X-induced inhumanly high metabolism.
âHey, Brick?â
Brick looked up from their feast of eggs and bacon and pancakes. âWhat?â
Logically speaking, heâd only called her gorgeous and smart and amazing because she was those things, objectively. But there was no such thing as the objectively perfect girlfriend.
She smiled. âThank you.â
He flushed and played it off like it meant nothing. âYeah, youâre welcome.â
Logically speaking, nothing lasts forever, but they took their time anyway. What was the rush?
#Blossick#Reds#carriedreamerx#Blossom#Brick#Powerpuff Girls#Powerpuff Girls fanfiction#PPG#PPG fic#February Fic Prompts#shooketh not stirred#i love them more than words can say#thanks for the request!!#ppg shook
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Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 12
Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback
Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.
Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.
Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort
Word Count: 3,191 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11
Also on ff.net and AO3. Note: I haven't actually read either of the books referenced in this chapter, but they came up when I was doing research and seemed to fit so I threw them in there.
Scars are souvenirs you never lose The past is never far Did you lose yourself somewhere out there Did you get to be a star
We grew up way too fast And now there's nothing to believe And reruns all become our history
-Goo Goo Dolls, "Name"
âââââââââÂ
Then. On Monday, Tim went to the library as usual once classes were over, but with a different purpose in mind than simply secluding himself in studies.  âŠThat is to say, he wouldnât be by himself this time. He wondered why he even agreed to this. That knock on the head must have scrambled his judgment â that was the only explanation he could think of for permitting himself to be possessed by such an insane notion. When he reached the agreed-upon meeting place though, there was someone else sitting at the table instead of the person he expected.  She had short, pitch black hair â sleek and strict â a style resembling Annieâs but with a widowâs peak; far darker bangs parted in the center, pulled back taut by a barrette. In addition, her skin was much more pale in comparison, emphasizing midnight mascara and lips.  Both her chin and slanted eyes were sharper, piercing pupils snapping up from her book to stare straight at him with such intensity he flinched on instinct.  Heâd never seen anyone react so immediately to his presence. âUh⊠Hello?â She eyed him with suspicion, silent and unmoving.  Statuesque. âSorry to bother you, but⊠Iâm supposed to be meeting someone here soonâŠâ Again, no response. Tim didnât know what to do. He thought about just giving up and turning tail (hey, canât say he didnât try at least), though somehow the prospect of presenting his back to her seemed like a dangerous idea.  He was about to retreat in reverse by slinking slowly into the shadows â safety â of shelves when a pair of hands suddenly emerged from behind him, blocking his vision. âGuess who~?â âGah!â He whirled around in a panic, almost about to punch the invader to his personal space when he saw it was â of course â Stephanie.  The librarian sternly looked up from the counter at the loud disruption and pursed a finger to her lips, shushing. âFuck- donât do that,â he hissed with a sibilant shiver, clutching his rapidly beating breast. ââŠSorry,â she whispered back, contrite. âItâs okay,â he muttered with a heavy sigh.  âJust give me some warning next time.â Meanwhile, the seated spectator was still watching the two intently, stony view shifting back and forth between them.  Tim felt even more uncomfortable under her penetrating gaze, and was about to suggest they move to someplace else when Steph waved to the glum girl in gleeful greeting. âI see youâve met my roommate,â she chirped as she bounded over, cheerfully clasping hands on the sculptureâs stiffened shoulders.  âThis is Cassandra, but you can call her Cass.  She doesnât say much, but sheâs a nice girl.  I hope you donât mind if she joins us for today.â As she briskly babbled introduction in lieu of the stranger herself, who still had yet to speak, Tim felt he was starting to understand how Steph was able to put up with his own severe lack of social skills. âUm⊠Okay.  Sure.â âAwesome.  Iâll be with you guys in a sec, just let me finish shelving these books.â She bustled off again, leaving Tim alone with Cassandra before he could even say anything. Defeated, he laid his bookbag on the table and took the chair diagonally across from her, not wanting to remain directly in her field of vision.  She continued to follow his movements closely though, keeping sight trained on him as if a hawk tracking its prey â rigid and unwavering.  âŠIt was starting to seriously creep him out. âSo, er⊠Whatâs that youâre reading?â He blurted out in a feeble endeavor to fill conversation. Mechanically, she raised the cover so he could see.  Judging by the winged figure in frilly jeweled fashion painted next to a medieval knight, both holding what appeared to be fanciful masks, it looked like some kind of fantasy young adult fiction novel. âI⊠see.  Is it interesting?â She simply nodded, before (blessedly) returning attention to her reading material. ⊠Can I go now? As the suffocating silence stretched on, Tim wasnât sure if the situation was any better than before. Though her scathing appraisers were now fully fixed on the page in front of her rather than him, they didnât seem to be making any progress.  âŠWhich he supposed only made sense, given the orientation of the subject. âŠShould I let her know sheâs holding that book upside-down? To his surprise, a rosy tint developed on the otherâs complexion as she subtly flipped the tome to the correct position.  Odd, he was sure he hadnât said that statement aloud.  âŠBut then, reality was such a fickle thing these days. Yet, even though the volume was righted, her focus still didnât seem to advance at all.  He mused idly if she was actually absorbing any of it. Donât tell me she canât actually read. âI can read.â Tim startled at the unanticipated answer.  âŠOkay, this was really getting weird.  He definitely hadnât said anything that time.  Given that the supposed responder still hadnât budged an inch, he began to doubt whether he was really hearing things⊠Before he could decide whether to inquire further out of sheer curiosity, Stephanie conveniently showed up at that precise moment, arms inflated with textbooks. âBack!  Sorry about that.â She plopped the heavy publications and herself down, insinuating cozily between the two, apparently without noticing the aura of awkwardness permeating the air. âShall we get started then?â âY- yeah.â Tim cast one more confused look at Cassandra before attempting to apply concentration to his other company instead.  It was difficult when said study partnerâs own awareness kept wandering though, growing bored and fidgety within minutes.  In the corner of his periphery, he could sense the third partyâs irises still peeking at him from over the pages as well, albeit remaining mute throughout the entire period. By the end of the (exhausting) hour, Tim had managed to at least hammer in a few concepts.  As they finally stood up and started gathering their things, Stephanie sheepishly apologized for her short retention span, and promised sheâd be more attentive next time.  Meanwhile, Cassandra quietly shut her text and rose, maneuvering fluently â like lighter fluid, hazardous and almost undetectable â around the desk to approach Tim.  To both his and Stephâs astonishment, she leaned in alarmingly close, lifting delicate digits to lightly touch his forehead.  He swallowed apprehensively as she scrutinized his mystified expression, as if searching for something. After a bewildered beat, she lowered her hand, and placed the paperback she had in his. âHere.â He blinked at her in bemusement. âRead it.â She merely instructed, before departing without another word. ââŠWhat the heck was that about?â Steph pondered, scratching her hair. Tim shrugged.  âBeats me.  You know her better than I do.â âYeah, but I have no idea why she does stuff sometimes.â  Stephanie paused, contemplating with a half-anxious, half-amused countenance.  âHey, maybe she likes you.â Tim blushed, busying with packing away his possessions again. âYeah, right.â ⊠As he lay on his dorm bed later though, looking at the lent item against the light, he reflected on the strange glance and gesture she gave him.  It wasnât like anything heâd ever experienced before.  It was as if the cold contact infiltrated deep into his soul, chilling to his very core⊠Conner came in then, bearing a broad grin. âYooo Timbo, so howâd it go with that girl?â Tim shrugged, sitting up. ââŠShe brought her roommate along.â The other boy elevated an eyebrow. âDude.  Thatâs a bad sign.  Inviting someone else on the first date means youâre totally in the friendzone.â âI told you, itâs not a date.â âWhat is it then?â Tim exhaled, shaking his head. ââŠI donât know.â Conner crossed over to clap a thick paw on Timâs shoulder. âLighten up, man.  Youâll win her over, donât worry.â He elbowed with a wink and cheesy thumbs-up, and Tim rolled his retinas, but didnât say anything. Connerâs eyes caught the object in the otherâs lap, and he plucked it up without warning, wrinkling his nose as he examined the lacey title. âThe Black Swan?  Since when do you read chick lit?â âItâs not mine,â Tim defended hastily.  âStephâs roommate told me to read it.  Now give it back.â Tim made a swipe for the article, but Conner easily kept his extended muscle out of the shorter oneâs reach as he flipped teasingly through the embarrassing narrative, reciting passages aloud with gusto. ââOdile watched her father's back, swallowing involuntary bitter tears of disappointment and rejection, feeling her head droop a little as her heart sank with dejection.ââ âWill you shut up?â ââIf she could have wept, her tears would have burned furrows down her face, so bitter were the dregs of degradation that she drank at that moment.â  âŠGod, who writes this stuff?â Tim grimaced as he made another desperate effort to grab at the entity.  In the midst of their scuffle though, two tags secretly tucked into the spine slipped out from between the sheets, landing at their feet.  They both blinked and bent down to pick one up each, puzzled by the bizarre bookmarks. They were playing cards. Conner glimpsed up from the Ace of Clubs he was holding towards Tim, whose eyes were expanded wide with shock and â horror? â as his hand began shaking. âHey, you okay, man?  Whatâs wrong?â Gulping, Tim gradually rotated the thin cardboard around to reveal its front: not a number or face⊠but a Joker. Anger and concern promptly carved onto Connerâs visage. âWhat the hell is this?  Some kind of sick joke?â Tim said nothing, as he peered down at the scarlet diptych design of mirrored angels and demons on the backside to find a brief note written in bold, black marker: Park.  4PM. Biting his lip in baffled frustration, Conner revolved his own cue around to discover a much longer message.  His brow furrowed as he tried (rather unsuccessfully) to pronounce the alien language it was inscribed in. ââRara avis in terris nigroque simillima cygnoâ â what is this, French?â âItâs Latin,â Tim clarified.  ââA rare bird in the lands and very much like a black swan.â  It likely refers to a recent theory published by Taleb.  Itâs a metaphor to describe an event that comes as a surprise, thatâs hard to predict since itâs beyond the realm of regular expectations, and has an extreme major impact as a result.  Afterwards, it is rationalized by hindsight, as if it couldâve been anticipated if the relevant data were available â but this only becomes apparent in retrospect.  The phrase itself was coined by the ancient poet Juvenal, back when people thought black swans didnât exist and that such an abnormality was impossible. It was only later proven wrong when the first one was discovered in 1697.â Conner blinked vacantly at Tim, looking as lost as he always did whenever the other went off on an encyclopedic (if perhaps slightly pretentious) tangent. âSo⊠ What does it all mean?â âI donât know,â Tim admitted as he took the pair and headed determinedly over to his computer, booting up the system.  âBut Iâm going to find out.â He navigated to the browser window â keeping a weather eye on the worrisome memo as it unwillingly brought back bad memories â and did some digging. ⊠By the time he was done with his research, the hour of summons was fast approaching.  He snatched his jacket and was out the door before Conner could even get a word in edgewise, racing towards Gotham Central Park. As soon as he arrived there, he stilled for a second at the entrance gate, surveying the tranquil scene of people walking casually to and fro: lovers holding hands, families enjoying late afternoon picnics and games of Frisbee or Fetch with their pets, children running joyfully to their parents across the grass â the latter giving affectionate hugs and pats before sending off with smiles to the playground, all while keeping a careful watch on their precious bundles from a distance. Tim spotted Cassandra sitting by herself on a swingset towards the outskirts, exuding a gloomy atmosphere that likely aided in deterring any nosey youngsters. He neared cautiously, observing her glide like a gentle pendulum for a while, before she slowed to a stop and looked at him finally. âYou came.â Dispensing with preliminaries, Tim cut straight to the chase. âHow did you know who I was?â Cassandra smiled softly. âThe way you move â it resembles him.  No openings, always on guard, not a single wasted motionâŠâ  She then added in a hush: âPlus, I read your mind.â Her head declined in apology. âForgive me.  Itâs not something I normally like to do to others, especially to someone Iâve just met. âŠThere was such a dark cloud surrounding yours though, I- I couldnât help it.â She dragged a heel through the dirt. âBesides, you know who I am now, donât you?â Tim sat down on the swing next to her, repeating everything he had learned based on his hunch. âSeveral years ago, the Joker broke into a Cadmus facility in Arizona. He released five metahuman kids, who had been abducted from their families shortly after birth and raised as secret weapons for the government.  He took them on as his own protĂ©gĂ©s, calling them the âRoyal Flush Gangâ.  The strongest of them was named âAceâ, who possessed telepathic powers the likes of which the world had never seen before.  âŠâAceâ reportedly died not long after of a brain aneurysm in the presence of Batman, who was the only witness, in a park not unlike this one.â Cassandra merely nodded affirmatively. ââŠHe helped you fake your death, didnât he?â âIt was the only way to free me completely from Cadmusâ clutches.  Otherwise they would keep hounding me forever.â She gripped the chains bitterly. âHe sent for an expensive foreign doctor who performed the surgery in secret.  Afterwards, he gave me a choice: I could stay and be a part of his team, or I could live peacefully on my own. âŠI chose this.â Tim afforded her an odd look, thinking how close he evidently couldâve been to having an actual âsisterâ his age. ââŠIâm guessing âCassandraâsâ not your real name either.â âIt is the name he gave me.  After the Greek prophet from mythology.â âCan you actually see the future?â Tim questioned, genuinely intrigued. Cass regarded the horizon, as if squinting into some sort of far-off void. âWhat I see are⊠âpossibilitiesâ.  Infinite paths our lives couldâve taken, had we made different choices.  If just the slightest factor changed course.  âAlternate realitiesâ, if you will.â She told him, about a world where there werenât just two Robins, but a third Robin and then a fourth, a world where Barbara was the one shot and paralyzed instead of Dick, where Joker lived and he died and came back to life and his name wasnât Tim it was- âStop.  Iâd rather not hear any more.â Tim prolonged a palm to halt her crazy-sounding speech, grasping his aching skull in the other. âIâm not saying I totally understand or believe you, but basically what youâre saying is⊠âSomethingâ was bound to happen sooner or later.â ââŠIf that is how you wish to interpret it.â She removed her limbs from the links, resting on her legs instead. âI am sorry, for what he did to you.  The⊠things I saw inside his mind, they were so terrible, I shouldâve known better than to leave him be.  I⊠shouldâve ended him when I had the chance.â  Her knuckles clenched, impressing into her thighs. âEven though they trained me to use my powers to kill, I- I couldnât.  I didnât want to.â Tentatively, Tim reached out to wrap his own hand soothingly around her wrist. âHey, thatâs not on you.  Itâs not your fault.  None of it was your fault, including-â  He hesitated. â-What happened with your parents.â He heard an abrupt wailing coming from the court where a kid had tripped and fallen from the bottom of the slide, scraping her knees on the wood chips.  Her mom and dad hurried to her side, cooing and consoling as they stuck numerous kisses and band-aids with colorful cartoon kitties and pretty princesses on them to the boo-boos.  Turning, he saw there were tears rolling down Cassandraâs cheeks as she unfurled her fist, knotting fingers into the comfort of his. While her nails were startlingly long, she took care not to wound his flesh, closing just tight enough to exchange warmth. âYou and I⊠are similar.  I donât mean just because of Joker either.â  She meditated off into that empty space again.  âThe two of us are anomalies.  Outliers.  Outsiders. We donât fit into the grand scheme.  Weâve always been⊠âdifferentâ.  We donât âbelongâ.â Tim wasnât sure exactly what she was talking about.  But he took a stab at alleviating the mood anyway. âI guess you could say weâre⊠âWild Cardsâ?â She stared at him. ââŠSorry, bad joke.â And people say Iâm humorless now. Cass looked a little put-off as she pouted, and he winced, remembering she could hear what he was thinking as well.  He swiftly opted to switch the topic instead. âYou cannot tell Stephanie about any of this.â âI donât intend to.â  Gray eyes narrowed with gritty resolve as her voice dropped to a grave mumble, digging her toe into the earth and gravel.  âSomeone like her should not know of the horrors weâve been through, the darkness that we come from.  The number of evil sins weâve committed.  âŠIt will only lead to causing the same kind of pain in the end.â Her face contorted obliquely as she said this, ominous and foreboding. Breathing out, she monitored the fading violet brightness of the sun as it started to set. âStephanie⊠is light.  A ray of hope.  Sheâs the first person Iâve met who wasnât instantly afraid of me, but accepted me right away for who I was. Sheâs the first real âfriendâ Iâve ever had.  âŠI would never do anything to hurt her.â She looked down at their connection, as if realizing the implication just now, and nervously began to relinquish.  Tim didnât let go though.  Something she had said triggered a thought in the back of his conscience, and he stood up, coaxing mildly. âCome on.  Thereâs someone else I think you should meet.â Timidly, she trailed after his tow.  Whilst they stood there waiting for the bus, he overheard a passing elderly duo remark wistfully on that âcute young coupleâ, which in turn urged him to be the one to impulsively liberate this time.  As they both coughed and avoided each otherâs eyes, Cassandra spoke up in a somewhat troubled tone. âThereâs⊠something else I should mention.â âWhat?â âWhen I⊠looked into your subconscious, I saw an even greater darkness buried deep down.  I canât explain it, but⊠I fear it may consume you someday.â  She frowned in vexation at her inability to identify, to express.  ââŠIt bears strong resemblance to him.â Though he was afraid to ask, Tim did so anyway. âWho?â She gave him an ambiguous look, constricted and conflicted dots overwhelmingly obscure. âBoth.â
âââââââââ
And now we're grown up orphans That never knew their names We don't belong to no one That's a shame But you could hide beside me Maybe for a while And I won't tell no one your name
#TimSteph#Tim Drake#Timmy Todd#Stephanie Brown#Cassandra Cain#Conner Kent#Batman the Animated Series#Batman Beyond#DCAU#Return of the Joker#fanfiction#starstories#getting meta up in here#in more ways than one#fun fact: this is actually a harem story#*shot*#jk#apologies to anyone who was expecting a faithful representation of Cass#this is my headcanon and I'm stickin' to it#*flees*
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Antipathy, part six
In which Park Jinyoung, a possibly murderous cat hybrid, makes you question everything you thought you knew about yourself.
Warnings: Possible strong language and hybrid!Jinyoung. Light steam.Â
Word Count: 3.1k
part one  part two  part three  part four part five part seven part eight part nine
You leaned back against the sofa, feeling slightly drowsy.
Jinyoung had already fallen asleep with his head in your lap. You had never imagined that he could be so cuddly but his cheek was pressed against your knees, one arm wrapped around your legs as he slept soundly. He seemed to be sleeping a lot today, and you suddenly wondered if heâd been getting enough sleep for the past couple of days. It probably hadnât been easy to adjust to a new place.
You were running out of cartoons to watch and the afternoon was getting on, when you phone suddenly rang. Jinyoung stirred slightly at the sound of your ringtone but you answered quickly, gently patting his head to put him back to sleep.
âHello?â you answered.
âHey! What are you up to?â Nari asked cheerfully.
You shrugged lightly. âNothing, Iâm lazing around and watching television. Is your boyfriend still working Saturday nights?â
Nari pouted. âExcuse me. I donât only call you when my boyfriend is busy-â
âYes, you do.â
âOkay, maybe I do. Itâs not like you have anything better to do, right? Letâs go get drinks, thereâs a new bar that opened up near my place and theyâre giving out free drinks for ladies. That means no sleazy guys hitting on us and trying to buy us drinks, we can just get drunk and release our stress! Doesnât it sound amazing?â she gushed. Nari had an eerily accurate sense for knowing exactly when you needed to release stress. To be honest, drinks sounded good. You had been bottling a lot of stuff inside and releasing it with drinks seemed fun.
âJust the two of us?â you clarified.
âWhy, do you want to bring someone?â
You glanced down at the hybrid sleeping in your lap. Jinyoungâs breathing was soft and steady, his warm breath tickling your legs as he snuggled closer to you. Part of you didnât want to get up, because it meant he would let you go. You couldnât exactly bring Jinyoung to the bar because most drinking establishments didnât allow hybrids. Alcohol affected them more strongly than humans, and nobody wanted to deal with hybrid bar fights. They got extremely ugly and usually involved bloodshed.
You bit your lip and sighed into the phone.
âNever mind. Iâll meet you at your apartment in like, two hours?â
âOne hour. They stop serving free drinks after a while and Iâm too broke to pay for my own.â
You hung up, and tossed the phone onto the sofa. Then you looked down at Jinyoung. You let your fingers run through his soft hair once more, before patting his shoulder and leaning down to whisper into his ear. âJinyoung? Hey, Jinyoung. I need you to wake upâŠâ
He opened his eyes sleepily and looked up at you. Jinyoungâs cheeks flushed pink when he realized how tightly he had been holding onto your legs and he moved away quickly, rubbing his eyes. You grinned and smiled down at him, patting his head. âDid you sleep well? Sorry I had to wake you up. Iâm heading out to meet NariâŠâ
Jinyoung sat up and blinked at you. âOh, okay.â
You noticed his ears droop slightly as you stood up and went into your bedroom, grabbing your towel to take a quick shower. Nari always got really dressed up when the two of you went out drinking so you had to put in a little effort in order to not look underdressed beside her. But there was hardly any time to get dressed up and you knew Nari would be furious if you were late. She took drinking outings without her boyfriend very seriously.
âJinyoung! Can you help me?â you called out, desperately.
Jinyoung trudged into your room, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of you in a very pretty top and heels. Heâd only ever seen you dressed in sweatshirts and jeans, and you noticed his gaze flicker from your head to your toes briefly before landing on your face. Jinyoung gaped at you for a few moments, before nervously rubbing the back of his neck.
âYou⊠you look nice,â he mumbled.
You smiled, noticing how his cheeks had turned slightly pink. Was he usually this shy? Jinyoungâs nervous gaze was making you feel a little flustered and you didnât have the time. Besides, he was a hybrid, he couldnât possibly be attracted to you! You plugged in your hairdryer at your dressing table and held the machine out in his direction. âCan you help me dry my hair? I need to do my makeup and Nariâs going to be furious if Iâm late. Sheâs probably calling me already.â
Jinyoung nodded, reaching out to take the device from your hands. You turned to face the mirror and began dabbing foundation onto your skin, while Jinyoung hesitantly lifted the hairdryer up to face your damp hair. You could see his hesitant expression through the mirror and blinked.
âJinyoung?â
He flushed red. âUh, I donât⊠I donât know how to do this.â
âJust point it at my hair, itâs not that hard. You canât really do it wrong or anything,â you replied dismissively. You were focusing on spreading the foundation on your skin and you still needed to do your eyes and lips. Jinyoung bit his lip and pointed the hair dryer at your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, using his hands to softly move the damp locks aside as he blow dried them. You found yourself smiling when you noticed him in the mirror and saw how focused he was on doing such a simple thing.
âI donât know when Iâll be back, so you should probably just order takeout for dinner?â you told him as you carefully applied mascara to your eyelashes. âIs that okay?â
Jinyoung didnât take his eyes off your hair, gently moving one section aside to blow dry the rest. He was biting his plump lips as he concentrated. âHuh? Yeah, okay.â
âWhich lip gloss do you like better? The sparkly one or the dark one?â you demanded, holding up two tubes. Jinyoung stared at them for a long moment, his eyes flickering nervously from your lips to the tubes, and then back to your lips again. His fingers stilled in your hair. âT-the sparkly one?â
âGood call,â you muttered, opening the bottle and swiping the brush across your lips. You looked yourself over in the mirror and then glanced up to meet Jinyoungâs eyes. âMy hair seems dry enough, right? Thanks so much for helping me out, youâre a sweetheart.â
Jinyoung lowered the hair dryer, looking slightly disappointed. âUh, thatâs fine-â
âIâm going to run,â you replied, leaping out of your chair and grabbing the purse that was lying on the bed. You smoothed down your clothes and hair, before smiling at Jinyoung, who was still gaping at you silently. âIâm heading out. Call me if you need anything, okay?â
He nodded silently, watching you hurry out of the apartment.
--
You and Nari had a bunch of cocktails at the bar, while you both drunkenly whined about your lives. She talked about how her boyfriend was always working and never seemed to have time for her anymore, while you complained about your Economics professor and how you were probably going to fail the class that you had been working so hard for. It had been a while since the two of you had talked things out (albeit the conversation might have flowed better if you were more sober), and it felt nice.
âHow are things with Jinyoung? Do you still hate me for making you take care of him?â Nari wondered.
You bit your lip and smiled at the thought of Jinyoung. âHeâs okay, I think.â
âI knew if anyone could crack his shell, it would be you. He had the same look in his eyes when I picked him up from the shelter that you had when I first met you. You know that look? That I want somebody to love me but Iâm too afraid to ask or expect it from someone look? Poor Jinyoungâs been carted around a bunch of different shelters and adoptive homes in the past couple of months, nobody ever seems to love him enough. I felt like you could do it.â
You stared at her, brain slightly fuzzy. âWait.â
âWhat?â Nari asked lightly.
âYou told me you just wanted me to take him in for a week! You never said anything about wanting somebody to love me and all that shit!â you cried, pointing at her. Your mouth dropped open. Youâd never imagined that Nari could be so sneaky and her happy giggle gave her intentions away. âYouâre a horrible person!â
âNo, Iâm not. Hybrids can make you really happy if you let them. And I knew you would never adopt one on your own, soâŠâ
âSo you adopted one for me and forced me to take him in?â
Nari pouted. âAre you mad? Please donât be mad! I swear I wasnât just trying to shove any hybrid on you, I just got this feeling when I looked at Jinyoung, he reminded me so much of you! Do you know how difficult it was to make friends with you? You come off as pretty mean and closed off at first too, you know? So you should give Jinyoung a chance. Hybrids are really loyal once they get attached to their owners and they provide great emotional support.â
You looked down at your drink with a pout. âJinyoung is kind of cute and sweet once you get to know himâŠâ
Nari beamed. âI knew it!â
âSo youâre not actually looking for a new owner for him?â
âLook. Hereâs the thing. Itâs only been three days. Give it some time, at least wait until the one week is up. If you seriously still want me to find him a new home then I will. But Iâm pretty sure youâll want to keep Jinyoung around before long. How does that sound?â
âFair,â you admitted.
âExcellent! Letâs have another round of drinks to celebrate! Weâre doing tequila shots this time, so grab those lemon slices, baby!â
--
It was almost 3 am when the doorbell to your apartment rang.
Jinyoung had been pacing the living room nervously for over two hours, his entire body tense as he waited for you to come home. True, you hadnât said what time you would be back but how was he supposed to sleep when he had no idea where you were? Heâd been debating waiting for longer or going out to look for you himself when the doorbell rang. He practically ran towards it, yanking it open and hoping to see you.
Jackson was standing in the corridor, half-carrying you. Your arm was thrown over the dog hybridâs shoulder and he was propping you up as you stood unsteadily on your feet. You let out a happy, drunken giggle at the sight of Jinyoung and beamed at him.
âJinyoung-ie!â you chirped happily, stretching your arms out in his direction. It made you stumble and Jackson had to hurriedly tighten his grip on you so that you didnât fall to the floor. You were completely ignorant of how the dog hybrid was struggling to hold you steady because you were too happy to see Jinyoungâs adorable face. Wasnât he cute? Has he always been this cute? He had such adorable pouty lips that you just wanted to kiss them. âFancy seeing you here, Jinyoung-ie! Why arenât you smiling? Arenât you happy to see me?â you slurred cheerfully.
You expected Jinyoung to say something in return. What you didnât expect was for Jinyoungâs eyes to narrow dangerously. He reached across the doorway and grabbed your arm, pulling you tightly towards him. You squealed as you lost your balance and immediately collided with Jinyoungâs hard chest. Jacksonâs grip on you disappeared and after one slightly dizzying moment, you found yourself leaning on Jinyoung instead, one of his arms around your waist as he held you against him. You took a deep breath and inhaled his scent; he smelled like soap and something distinctly Jinyoung-like.
âHey, careful!â Jackson cried, shocked when Jinyoung practically ripped you out of his arms. âSheâs really drunk-â
âI can see that, get your dirty hands off her,â Jinyoung hissed angrily. You were shocked at the anger in his voice and you placed a hand on his shoulder clumsily, noticing that his entire body was trembling. Your cheek was pressed to his chest and you could almost hear an angry growl rumbling under the surface. âDonât ever touch her again, I donât want to see you anywhere near her,â Jinyoung snapped.
Jackson backed off, shocked. âOkay, relax, I was just bringing her home-â
Jinyoung hissed, and you looked up at him, pouting. âHey, Jackson was just trying to help-â
âNo, heâs not allowed to touch you-â
âHe was being nice! Donât be mad at Jackson, I asked him to bring me home because I was too drunk to walk here alone from Nariâs!â you whined, looking up at Jinyoung. Your view from below was kind of awkward since you were mainly staring at the underside of his chin, but you could tell that Jinyoung was still glaring furiously at Jackson. His ears were stiff and he looked ready to attack Jackson at a momentâs notice.
âGet out,â Jinyoung told Jackson firmly.
You poked Jinyoung in the chest. âNo! Bad kitty! Donât kick him out, be nice!â
âHeâs leaving. Bye.â Jinyoung held you steady with one arm while he slammed the door shut in Jacksonâs face. You gaped at the door in shock but there was nothing you could do. Jinyoung leaned down and gently lifted you up in his arms, carrying you into your bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stared at him, looking at the way his lips were pressed together tightly and his eyes were still narrowed. Jinyoung set you down on the bed and you collapsed against the pillows in an ungraceful lump.
âAre you mad at me?â you whined.
âStay put.â
Jinyoung disappeared and you sank back against the pillows, feeling the room spin. Those tequila shots had been a bad, bad idea because now your stomach was churning and you couldnât really think straight. Jinyoung returned a few moments later with a glass of cold water and shoved it into your hands.
âDrink,â he told you firmly.
You accepted the glass obediently, taking a long drink from it as Jinyoung moved down to the end of the bed and began taking your heels off your feet. You sighed happily and wiggled your toes as he removed the painful footwear and tossed it aside. Jinyoung then came over to take the glass out of your hands and set it on your bedside table.
âYou should go to sleep,â he told you, before leaning closer to you. His frown deepened and he scrunched up his nose as he looked into your unfocused eyes. âGod, you stink.â
You flushed, embarrassed. âSorry, I probably smell like alcohol-â
âNo, you smell like Jackson. Itâs disgusting.â
Jinyoung placed his hand on your cheek and leaned closer. You stared at him blankly, your mind too muddled to comprehend what he was doing. Was he wiping something off your cheek? Instead, Jinyoung placed his nose at the crook of your neck and took a long, deep sniff. His lips brushed the skin at your collarbone as he spoke, and your entire body went stiff. âI canât stand it. I need to get that smell off of you,â he whispered.
You could feel your throat tightening. âI could shower-â
âNo.â
Jinyoung placed his lips over yours. You barely saw it coming, but Jinyoungâs lips were soft and warm and passionate. You could feel the desperation and the possessiveness as he leaned forward and half-lay across your bed, pulling you into his arms. Jinyoung smelled amazing; his gentle scent of soap and laundry detergent and hints of vanilla made you feel more light-headed than ever. He caressed your lips with his for a few moments, letting you melt into his arms.
You had never kissed anyone quite like this before. It felt so different, so desperate and when Jinyoungâs tongue slipped past your open lips, you gasped against his mouth. He could taste the alcohol on your tongue and he slid his fingers into your hair. You could feel Jinyoungâs hot hands roaming your body. One of them explored your back, roaming your shoulders and then moving down to brush the top of your ass, as though he wanted to touch and claim every part of you.
âJinyoung,â you moaned against his lips. You couldnât take it. Your body was trembling under his touch and his lips were making your head spin like crazy. He pulled away from you for a brief moment, his fingers releasing your hair and coming forward to softly brush strands out of your face.
âShh, Iâm not done yet,â he whispered hoarsely. âI can still smell him on you.â
You whimpered as his lips came down on yours again. They were slightly slower this time and you could feel a gentle purring coming from Jinyoungâs chest as he explored your mouth with his tongue. Jinyoungâs breathing was getting heavier and you could feel his warm breath on your face every time he pulled away and then leaned down to kiss you again. You werenât sure whether it was thirty seconds or ten minutes; your senses were completely on fire. Finally, Jinyoung pulled away and stared down at you.
âGone,â he whispered softly.
You stared up at him, eyes wide and head spinning. âJacksonâs scent?â you wondered weakly.
âYes. Itâs gone. Youâre all mine now,â he purred gently, craning his neck up to kiss your forehead. You stared at him with wide eyes. What was happening? Had Jinyoung just kissed you senseless or were you dreaming all of this? Your heartbeat was thudding and you watched in silence as Jinyoung slowly extracted himself from you and got off the bed. âYou should sleep, youâre still very drunk.â
You nodded. âUhâŠâ
âGood night,â Jinyoung whispered, his cheeks flushing red as he looked down at you, your eyes wide and your lips swollen from the kiss. You looked adorable and he could feel his heart swell, watching at you lying so innocently under him. âI should go,â
âOkay,â you whispered dazedly as Jinyoung stepped away from you, backing away to your bedroom door. He hit the light switch on the wall and then stepped out, leaving you alone in the darkness to process what had just taken place.
--
A/N: Well hello there, folks, hope youâre all doing great! This part was a load of fun to write and marks the descent of cute cuddly kitty Jinyoung to possessive angry feline JInyoung, lmao. Hope you all enjoyed it, let me know your thoughts!
#got7#got7 fluff#park jinyoung#jinyoung scenarios#jinyoung hybrid#got7 hybrid#got7 scenarios#got7 imagines#jinyoung imagines#jinyoung fluff#jinyoung angst#hybrid!au#got7 jinyoung
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Isnât It Lovely?- H.O. (4)
Summary: Â Isnât it lovely? When someone loves you more than anything else in the world. For Y/N the concept of love was foreign; even if she was adored by millions of loving fans. Love scared her, for a good reason too. Sheâd never been around it in a pure way. It had always been destructive, harmful. That was until she met a certain someone. A certain someone named Harrison.
Paring: Actor!Haz x Actress!Reader
Warnings: some angst, talk of emotional abuse later on, drinking
Word count: 2,444
A/N: Sorry itâs on the shorter side, but itâs very important for whatâs coming up. Weâre about to really get into the story, and Iâm so excited to take this journey with all of yâall! Also, for some reason, Tumblr isnât letting me put my moodboard up, so when that is fixed, Iâll add it in! Thank you lovelies for being patient! Updates are going to start being on Wednesdayâs.
âY/N,â a voice muttered, shaking her shoulder gently.
âMm,â she groaned, shrugging the hand off. Giggles erupted around her as she curled further into the small plane seat.
âY/N câmon, weâre here,â the voice was louder this time.
âUgh,â the actress groaned, stretching her arms out, her eyes fluttering open slowly, âWhat do you want?â She snipped, a small yawn escaping.
Harrison chuckled, âCâmon sleeping beauty, itâs time to disembark,â Y/Nâs head snapped up at the accented voice, a small blush tinting her cheeks.
âS-sorry Haz, I didnât, I didnât know it was you,â she tripped over her words slightly, unbuckling her seatbelt. Her brows furrowed together, âWait, whereâs Tom and Chris?â her eyes scanned the aisles around them, not finding the other members of their group.
Harrison chuckled, leaning back, âTheyâre waiting in the terminal for us,â he fixed his grip on their bags.
Y/N nodded, standing from her seat, noticing the bags in his hands. Her eyes softened at the sight as she slipped out of the aisle, âYou didnât have to do that,â she motioned to her bag.
He shrugged, a smile pulling at his lips, âI donât mind,â his gaze found hers, and the two held it for a lingering moment.
âWe should probably go,â her voice was soft, barely over a whisper.
âYeah,â he nodded, his eyes still glued to hers. After a moment, he cleared his throat, âShall we?â
She nodded, turning her head away in an attempt to hide her coming blush, âI think weâve kept them waiting long enough,â she started making her way to the exit, a question nagging in the back of her mind. âHarrison,â she started once they were in the tunnel leading to the terminal, âWhy did you stay behind to wake me and not Chris?â she bit her lip afterward, fiddling with her fingers.
Harrison blushed, keeping his head ducked down, âI, uh, well,â he stumbled over his words as they walked side by side to the looming door leading back into the airport. âI, well,â he sighed softly, shrugging one shoulder, âI donât know actually. Just wanted to I guess,â his voice was almost timid.
Y/N was silent for a moment, processing his words. âMaybe Chris was right,â she thought to herself. âOh,â she nodded, not wanting to embarrass him further, âOkay then,â her voice was soft, comforting to the young man beside her. They stayed silent the rest of the walk.
âThere they are,â Tomâs face brightened when he saw his friends walk out, âI thought youâd never wake up,â he nudged Y/N joking smile in place.
The young actress rolled her eyes, playful smile pulling at her lips, âWhatever Holland like youâre any better,â she stuck her tongue out at him.
Tom put a hand on his heart, mock pouting, âYou hurt my feelings with these lies, darling,â he batted his eyes at her, trying to squeeze a hint of pity from her.
She raised a single brow, âIf youâre trying to make me feel sorry for you, itâs not gonna happen,â she waltzed closer to him, placing a hand on his chest, âBut nice try Holland,â she smirked, patting his chest before backing away, sending a small wink his way.
Chris laughed, shaking his head, âOne of these days youâll learn Holland,â he glanced at the young actor, who had a joyful smile on his face, âBut Iâm afraid today isnât the day,â he started to follow after the girl, knowing she had no clue where she was going.
âItâs worth it!â Tom called, him and Harrison scrambling to keep up, âIf it makes her smile or laugh, itâs worth it,â he shook his head, glancing at Haz, âIsnât that right Harrison,â a sly smirk etched its way onto his lips.
âHuh?â Harrison dragged his eyes away from Y/Nâs figure to focus back on his friend.
Tom and Chris both laughed, shaking their heads at the poor boy, âMate, youâre so whipped,â Tom wheezed, eyes crinkling up as he laughed. Chris pulled away from the pair to go converse with Y/N.
Harrison glared at Tom, though they both knew it meant nothing, âShut it Holland,â he muttered, tightening his grip on their bags. Tom continued to laugh and poke fun at his friend the entire way to the car.
-
âSo,â Chris started once they got settled into the car, âWeâre a little behind schedule because of all the fans at the airport,â a loving smile appeared on his face when he talked about his fans. âBut, itâs not too much of a big deal. We get today to settle into our rooms, and tomorrow we have a full day of interviews,â Chris shook his head, glancing back and forth between Tom and Y/N.
Y/N looked over at Chris, dragging her eyes from the window, an awestruck look on her face, âDo you think we could like, I dunno, go sightseeing today?â She was nearly jumping in her seat, her features brightened in a way no one except Chris had seen before.
Harrisonâs expression softened as he looked at her, noticing the little dance she was doing in her seat, chuckling softly as she failed to contain her excitement. Chris laughed, âAre you sure youâre even up for that?â He raised a brow in question.
Y/N scoffed, rolling her eyes, âYou sound like such a dad right now,â she flopped back into her seat beside him.
Chris laughed again, shaking his head, âYou do know we have four days here right? One day to settle in, two of work, and then we have a free day,â he eyed the young girl, âI promise, youâll be able to do everything you want to do,â he threw his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug.
She huffed, her arms crossed over her chest, âYeah, yeah, whatever dad,â she glanced up at him, biting her lip to stop the smile from spreading.
Chris rolled his eyes, patting the top of her head with his hand, âI like you a lot better when youâre sleeping,â he grumbled.
Tom and Harrison watched the two with curious looks on their faces. Well, Tom watched curiously, Harrison watched Y/N mainly, just like the love-sick puppy he was. âYou know,â Tom whispered, leaning over to Harrison, âNothingâs gonna happen if you donât ask her out,â he glanced back at Y/N and Chris, who seemed to be arguing over something petty.
Harrisonâs cheeks flushed, âNothingâs gonna happen, Tom,â he shook his head, dropping his gaze, âSheâs just getting started in her career, she doesnât have time for a boyfriend,â he glanced back at his friend.
Tom scoffed, shaking his head, brown curls flying, âYou canât make that decision for her mate,â he shrugged one shoulder, deciding to let it be for now.
Harrison nodded, not saying anything else about it for the rest of the drive.
-
âY/N,â a voice called, muffled by the door of the hotel room, âY/N câmon, open the door love,â the accent filtered through, causing the young actress to groan, snuggling her face further into the cloud-like pillows the hotel offered.
âGo away, âm sleeping,â her voice called, thick with sleep.
She heard a chuckle as the knocks kept coming, âSeriously Y/L/N, open up.â
Y/N sighed, rolling her eyes as she dragged herself out of bed, H/C hairs sticking up with static. Her makeup had been smudged in some places, leaving streaks of black mascara across her cheeks. Grudgingly, she opened the door, a loud âhuffâ leaving her lips. âWhat do you want?â She groaned, leaning against the doorframe. Her eyelids were droopy, begging her to sleep off the jet-lag.
Tom laughed at the young girls' appearance, âWow Y/N, you look like you got hit by a bus,â he tried stifling his laughs, but his effort was in vain.
The young girlsâ eyes narrowed at him, âGentlemen as always I see,â she rolled her eyes, her head drooping to fall against the frame, a small yawn escaping.
âWell, I was going to invite you to the pool with Haz and me,â he gave her a once-over, smirk pulling his lips, âBut now that Iâve seen you, I think itâd be better for you to stay in,â his face scrunched up playfully.
Y/N reached out to slap his arm, âAnd here I was going to invite you inside, but I think Iâll just go back to bed,â she smirked, pretending to close the door.
âWait, love,â Tom called frantically, stopping the door with his foot, âDid I mention Haz was gonna be there?â He tried again, chocolate eyes searching her E/C ones.
Y/N eyed him, considering her options. The pool did sound like fun, well getting a tan sounded like fun, but she was feeling a bit jet-lagged. After a moment she sighed, her head falling back, âFine,â she groaned, knowing full well that Tom was jumping up and down outside her door, âIâll go to the pool with yâall,â she sneaked a glance at him, finding the actor grinning from ear to ear, pumping a fist in the air.
âYes! I knew youâd agree!â He jumped once more, turning to head back down the hall, âYou wonât regret it!â He called.
She rolled her eyes, unable to help the smile forming on her lips at his childish antics, âIâll meet you at your room in twenty!â She called, shutting the door after her. She shuffled around her room, finally picking the suitcase that had been waiting by the door up, moving around to place it on the bed. The soft orange comforter made the room glow with the slowly setting sun reflecting off of it. She sighed softly, digging around her bag to find the simple black string swimsuit. Y/N moved to the bathroom, swimsuit dangling in her hand. She jumped at her reflection in the mirror, her face scrunching up, âMaybe Tom was right,â she shook her head, grabbing a makeup wipe to scrub the dayâs makeup away. She fixed her hair, throwing it back into a messy bun before she changed. Satisfied, she grabbed a towel and slipped her black flip flops on before swiping her room key. Y/N threw the towel over her shoulder and left the room, walking down the hall a bit to Tom and Harrisonâs shared room. âTom!â She hollered, pounding her fist on the door.
She heard a startled yelp, and a loud thud causing her to laugh. âOne minute!â A British voice called back. A loud shuffling could be heard, and she swore she heard a whispered argument take place, but the door swung open to reveal a grinning Tom before she could be sure. âY/N, darling, so glad you decided to come,â he grinned, throwing the door the rest of the way open. He was already in his swim trunks, and she couldnât deny that he looked good. His abs were prominent and very defined, she swore youâd be able to grate cheese with them.
She raised a brow at his behavior but shrugged it off. âTom I literally told you twenty minutes ago that I was coming,â her brows pinched, confusion swirling in her eyes.
âDonât listen to him,â Harrison called, stepping out of the small bathroom, towel hanging off one of his broad shoulders. âI have no idea whatâs gotten into him,â he chuckled, shaking his head.
Y/N slipped him a small smile, âIf anything, heâs being more Tom than usual,â she giggled, moving one hand to cover her mouth.
âHey,â Tom pouted, appearing in front of the two, phone and room key in hand, âI can still hear you, ya know,â a single curl fell against his forehead, and Y/N had to refrain from moving it back.
âWhatever,â she rolled her eyes, gaze moving between the two boys, âAre we going swimming or not?â A single brow rose, and she cocked one of her hips, choosing to ignore their eyes sweeping over her figure. âGuys,â she clicked her tongue, attempting to get their attention, âMy eyes are up here,â her voice was a little harder, and their heads snapped up, a blush tinting their cheeks. âIdiots,â she mumbled, rolling her eyes as she made her way to the door.
She heard the boys scrambling after her, tripping over their feet to try to catch up to her. âY/N!â Tom called as he and Harrison sprinted after her, confused on how she was so far ahead, âAye, wait up!â Rolling her eyes, she stopped in front of the elevators, turning around slowly to meet the two boys, eyebrow raised expectantly.
âWeâre sorry, Y/N,â Harrison couldnât meet her gaze, instead he locked his eyes to the floor, staring at the swirling pattern of black and white.
âWe didnât mean anything bad by it,â Tom risked a glance to Harrison, who nodded, still refusing to meet her gaze.
Y/N sighed. She was very tempted to tell them it was fine, that it happened all the time, but there was something in the back of her mind that wouldnât let her brush it off completely. âLook,â she started, glancing between the two boys, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. Her thoughts battled one another. One part of her wanted to tell them to never let it happen again, simply because it scared her, but the other part of her didnât want to have to explain herself to them. She wasnât ready to talk about it with anyone who wasnât Chris. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around her torso, trying to make her as small as possible.
The boys risked a glance at her, noticing the slightly pained look on her features. She didnât seem to notice them at the time, too wrapped up in her own thoughts. The two shared a look of confusion, not entirely sure what to do. âLove,â Harrison called softly, concern laced in his tone, âAre you alright?â Hesitantly, he reached out a hand to her but snapped it back as she recoiled from his touch. A look of hurt passed over his face, but she didnât see it.
âY/N, darling, whatâs wrong?â Tomâs eyes filled with concern, not knowing exactly what to do. When she didnât respond, he glanced over at Harrison. âYou stay with her, Iâm gonna go get Chris,â he started backing away. Harrison nodded and Tom took off at a sprint back down the hall, getting the only person he could think of that might be able to help.
Taglist: @sincerelymlg @theaphroditex @dee-rosemary @stardxstparker @heavenly---holland @all-american-fangirl @mobtomsgirl
#heavenly--osterfield#tom holland#harrison osterfield#chris evans#harrison x reader#actor!au#actor!haz
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Nimble got walked in on crossdressing--which he knows thereâs nothing wrong with, but he still freaked out, because thatâs what he used to be bullied for and lost his hand over. But Sil (human belonging to @deezmo)â was so nice and just held him and let him cry... so yeah I drew my goblin boy crying heâs only 19
Thatâs the short version anyway, but hereâs a snippet of the story if you want to read the scene (written half by me and half by @deezmoâ in case you donât know):
Nimble decided not to pick up his tools--at least for a little while. Besides, Sil told him to take a break, didn't she...? He'd spent a good amount of money on a gorgeous dress "for his sister," and he hadn't worn it in a while. He quietly, happily slipped it on and did his makeup carefully. Then he stepped out of the bathroom into his bedroom and did a twirl for himself in his tall mirror. The motion made his dress sparkle and wave, and he felt such a surge of happiness and belonging within himself.
He had black eyeliner and winged mascara, a dash of shimmering eyeshadow and shiny earrings--the one in his right lobe was a dangling one. The dress was white and sparkly everywhere, reaching his bare ankles, and the front of it was beaded with white and silver beads, wrapping around his neck in a snug collar and leaving his arms completely bare. He lightly brushed his mohawk with his hand, grinning and satisfied. He looked beautiful.
He plucked at the dress a little and stood in thought, twisting a little to watch it shimmer. He wondered idly if he could travel somewhere to attend some kind of party or event, and pose as a female...? But no, maybe he wouldn't pass... and it seemed much too complicated of a plan anyway--he should just stay home. He knew it wasn't a very big deal to most others (especially goblins) but still, it felt like one.
"H-Hello, Nimble? Uh.. It's me, Sil!"
He flinched when he heard the bell of the shop door, cursing himself for forgetting to lock it. But he panicked when he heard Sil's voice. He totally forgot she would have come round any time today.
"Shit, shit, shit..." he frantically looked around his room, as if a solution were to spring from the walls. Feeling stiff and not knowing what to do, he stared at himself in the mirror and simply called,
"U-uh... hey Sil! One minute!" He started to tug at the back of the collar, but it was difficult to unfasten with half of his fingers made of relatively flimsy metal.
"Alright! ...I'll be sure not to touch anything!"
Nimble hopped on his heels with frustrated effort, starting to just pull the collar over the back of his head and getting it stuck over his ears. He huffed in annoyance and glanced back in the mirror, realizing he was still wearing a good amount of makeup--and he forgot about the dress for now. He hadn't cared too much before when he wore light makeup in front of Sil, but now his fears started to grow. What if she laughed at him... or took her offer of friendship away...?
The corners of his lips turned down in a tight frown, and he miserably smeared the makeup on his right eye with the back of his hand, trying in vain to clean it up. He was so afraid of Sil seeing him like this that he didn't think to go into his bathroom to try to wash it off.
"...J-just, hang tight!" he called through his door, face and ears growing hot. What a damn inconvenient time for dressing up, he scolded himself.
In an attempt to pull the dress off without damaging it, he became unbalanced before he knew it and his mechanical hand shot out to catch himself at the end of his bed. The bed frame knocked loudly against the wall and rattled one of his shelves. He only turned just in time to see a pot of still-growing gummy leaves topple to the floor and shatter. Dirt and pieces of the pot scattered across the floor.
"Ugh--SHIT!"
Wondering what was taking so long, Sil was just about to poke something on a shelf when she heard something smash and Nimble curse. Maybe it was the fact that she had a new leg and felt a little like her old self again, that her reflexes kicked in and she hurried towards the sound. Thinking he was in danger and feeling a little panicked with the need to assist. However as she entered what was obviously his bedroom -going by the goblin sized bed- she noted with relief that he was fine aside from the smashed pot that had another one of those gummy leaf plants and was spilled over the floor.
It even took Sil a moment to recognize that the goblin in the room was Nimble. Her eyes widened a little as her brows raised in surprise at seeing him so dressed up. Of course she hadn't forgotten the time she held him and felt him wearing a bra, but this was different. He looked so.. stunning. He had obviously put in a lot of effort applying the makeup and she only now noticed as she stared in silence, that he had tried to hastily rub it off of one eye and he looked so upset. Like he had been caught doing something wrong and Sil thought over what it was that he had said about the people in his life in the past..
"I was never quite right either," he explained. "Usually either got made fun of, or told I was... I dunno... jus' disappointin'." He shrugged and looked up at her with a serious expression. "I never did anythin' wrong... I don' think..."
Sil felt like she could truly relate in some way to Nimble. Having wanted nothing more than to pick up a sword and wear armor to go off on grand quests. How amusing it was to her that such a similar thing could happen to another yet in an opposite way and to a goblin. Feeling her chest hurt as she suddenly felt that she understood, she held out a hand so he would stop panicking. Softening her expression with a small smile and brows pinched upwards. Wishing nothing more than to move closer and hold him but not feeling like she knew him well enough for such a thing, she calmly spoke instead, almost as if he was an injured bird.
"H-hey.. it's alright. You don't have to worry.."
Nimble gasped and practically jumped when Sil entered the room--he leaned down to hopelessly try to pick up the broken pot, but stood back up stiffly and faced her with quivering ears that soon drooped. He blushed furiously and stayed frozen, heart beating out of his chest as he looked up at her like a deer caught in a goblin trike's headlights. His happiness at seeing her using her leg so well was easily buried under his fears.
Without realizing it, he gripped his hand with his mechanical one, as if he were trying to protect it. But her words were so nice, and there was no laughter or hatred in it. Sudden cautious relief over her reaction made hot tears well up in his eyes, and he frustratedly blinked them away.
"S... sorry, I... b-broke my pot..." he stammered, trying to think of an excuse. "I... uh..."
Sil's jade eyes glanced at Nimble's trembling hands then back up over his blushing face. His large ears drooped and shaking and she felt her heart go out to him. His watery, rose eyes didn't go unnoticed by her as he blinked rapidly and she once more idly thought how lovely he looked. Wondering why she should think such a thing as he was a male and a goblin no less, Sil cast her eyes over the floor and the smashed vase. Only now noticing he was barefoot and obviously still flustered from her intrusion, she didn't wish for him to cut himself. In an effort to try and make him feel more comfortable, she tried not to look at him too much and felt her own face warming up. Really Sil? Focus, woman!
"Don't move.. there's shards of ceramic everywhere.."
Walking towards him while keeping her eyes on the floor, Sil avoided stepping on any shards. Even if she was wearing a shoe and her other foot was metal, she didn't wish to make any more of a mess. Making her way over to stand in front of Nimble and before she thought too hard about it, she placed her hands over his sides and along his ribcage and lifted him up a little. With a small huff, Sil gently sat him on the bed so he wouldn't cut himself. It was a lot easier to lift him in such a way than she did before and she was once more grateful to him for building her such a sturdy leg. Looking down at him with her soft smile, she continued to speak kindly.
"Do you have a broom? I'll sweep it into the corner so you don't cut yourself."
Against her orders, he took a step backwards when she came closer. Involuntarily, his heart leapt and thumped painfully when she reached down for him, breathing shallowly as if she was going to hurt him. When he only felt her hands around his sides and was sat on the bed, he failed to suppress an anxious sort of whimper--and he soon realized that Sil hurting him was a stupid thing to be afraid of... right?
He felt like his outfit needed to be addressed, but when she asked for a broom instead he just fiddled with his shaking fingers and watched her with wide, watery pink eyes.
"Mmmh..." he whined a little under his breath. "S'in the... closet," he mumbled softly, feeling tense and hunching over as he sat on the end of his bed.
"I forgot that... you were... coming. Th-thank you... for help--" his voice caught in his throat and he struggled for a moment, feeling a storm of confused emotions. Was he embarrassed, frightened, relieved...? He couldn't stop thinking about how he must look to her... covered in makeup, beads and sparkles. He glanced at what he could see of his reflection in his tall mirror, and this time he shied away from it--noticing how terrible his smeared makeup now looked. He fumbled with his dangling earring and pulled it out, then stared intensely at it as he held it on his shimmering lap.
"--helping clean it up."
He sniffed miserably and tried to rub more of his eye makeup off, still only smearing it further and feeling stupid. He was not ashamed of what he liked. But that didn't save him from the fear of being mocked, like he had been in the past.
Feeling her heart sieze up as she noticed and heard just how shaken he was, Sil put aside the thought of cleaning for now and just wished to console him. Reassure him that it's alright and she wasn't going to berate him for wearing such things. As she watched him seemingly start to deflate as he sat there on the bed and rubbing at the smeared eye makeup with his eyes still watering, Sil leaned down and gently gripped his wrist to stop him. Now that she was face to face with him, she felt her throat close up as she looked into his miserable expression and hoped he didn't whimper from touching him this time.
"Nimble.. it's alright.. really. I won't.. tell anyone if that's what you're worried about.."
Letting go of his wrist, she gently cupped the side of his face and ran a thumb over his cheekbone and along the corner of his eye in a small effort to rub away the smeared black eyeliner and glittery powder. Looking into his face with what she hoped was a reassuring expression as seeing him in such a state over so little of a thing had her wanting him to smile. Glancing down at the dangly, star earring in his lap, she brought her eyes back over his own. Sil spoke before she even thought over what it was she was saying, idly figuring it was alright to as it was the first thing that came to her mind when she saw him. He looked like a shooting star.
"You're beautiful."
Nimble's lips quivered when she stopped him from smearing the makeup more, flinching at the fact that she touched him in such an anxious spot--right near his only hand. When she touched his hot cheek, he didn't know what to do... He believed now that she wasn't going to ridicule him, and that surprised him because of her typical human culture. But at her last words, his ears fell limp again and he blushed even more, feeling a creeping sob rise deep in his throat. He felt such a swelling of acceptance, relief, and belonging... he didn't even realize before his face was streaming with tears. "...No one's e-ever said that ta m-me," he explained quietly, cursing himself for being such a crybaby and making his makeup even worse now. He shut his frowning mouth and wiped the tears that had pooled at his chin, sniffing and finally meeting Sil's gaze again. He didn't think it was physically possible to smile at her now, but his shimmering pink eyes showed his intense gratitude for such a simple, yet piercingly meaningful compliment. His voice was almost a whisper. "Thank you..."
Sil felt like her heart was breaking as he trembled more and tears started flowing down his face. She sadly did believe him when he said no one had said such a thing to him and she wondered if he had a wish to wear such a ensemble out somewhere. It was an extravagant dress and even she thought it was a waste that he had to hide in his room like this. Seeing his makeup start to run as he sniffed, she couldn't help herself this time and moved forward to hold him. Her arms under his and hands over his bare back, pressing him close to her like she had done so the night she woke up and cried in front of him. Sil once more spoke quietly in an effort to help calm him as she rubbed his back in small circles.
"It's okay.. it's alright.. You're allowed to cry.."
Not caring if he got tears and makeup over her shoulder, Sil gently moved a hand along the back of his neck and head. Hoping he felt more secure in her arms as she knelt in front of him, still a little taller than he was even like this.
"I've got you.."
Nimble was immediately grateful for someone to hold on to... he had many friends but he very rarely shared anything personal with them--and if he was honest with himself, he really needed a hug. He wouldn't have been able to stop himself even if he wanted to, and as he wrapped his arms around her and pushed his face into the human's shoulder, a long, breathy sob escaped him.
"I-I shouldn't... hhn... I'm sorry, we're suh-supposed ta... *sniff* work on ya leg..." he whimpered. "You're alre-ady... usin' it so well! Heh... B-bad timin'... on my puh-part..." He continued to frown miserably against her, feeling his whole body seize up with another sob and his hands moved up on her back. He felt so accepted and appreciated, and for some reason it hurt his whole being. He was embarrassed and shameful just before, but now he felt as though he really did look beautiful.
As Sil just held on to him and let him unload on her, She mused at how small he felt in her arms as he trembled and sobbed and was content to let him. It wasn't so bad and actually felt a little nice to be able to comfort him so much as she knew how such interests were hard to enjoy and often done behind closed doors. Wishing to help ease him some more and reassure him that she didn't judge him over such a thing, she chuckled softly and spoke warmly.
"It's fine, Nimble. Really.. and yeah.. I'm actually late because I got.. lost a few times. The leg is perfect though. And hey.."
Moving her hands to rest over his bare shoulders, she moved back from him so she could look into his tear-streaked face with a kind smile.
"If I'd have known.. I'd have brought my bag with me. I've got plenty of dresses I have no interest in that need a good home."
Sil idly rubbed his shoulders with her thumbs as she held him, moving a hand up, she gently moved the back of her fingers across his cheek. The eyeliner he wore had ran and smeared and she wished her presence hadn't upset him so much and ruined his makeup. She really did think he looked lovely and once more was confused over herself for thinking such things. Moving on from the thought, she ran a curious hand over the neckline of the dress and thought that goblin females must really like to dress flashy. {Males too now she knows.} The bead-work and sparkles were very intricate and caught and reflected light brilliantly.
"Hm.. I'd have to adjust them them a bit to fit though.."
Nimble sniffed loudly and shrugged a little when she pulled back, gratitude and happiness finally showing in his eyes as he let himself grin slightly.
"Hehe... I knew the l-leg was good. Let ya f-friends know about me. *sniff* Get my nuh-name out there... Heh..."
At the mention of her dresses, he felt a few more warm tears slide down his face, and his eyes widened with a furrowed brow.
"Ruh-really...? I dunno... what ta suh-say... I sold the rest o' what I had t-to buy this..." he motioned down at himself, then looked back up at her and swallowed, trying to regain some composure.
"I ain't a lady... I jus'... *sniff* I-I dunno..." Trying to explain himself made him suddenly get more flustered and afraid. His mind could reel right back to the times when he'd lived in fear of being hurt for wearing his sister's clothing, and the words stopped in his throat--he couldn't utter anything else. I like looking pretty, he explained to himself inside his head. And those kids... were just assholes... But no matter how many times he told himself that, it was still hard to believe. He cleared his throat and avoided her green gaze, not knowing wether he felt great or awful.
"Anyway..." he mumbled through his returned frown, "I never told no one... since I got ta Kalimdor... so uh... *sniff* th-th... mh-hnn--" he had one more sudden, soft onslaught of sobbing to himself, while also trying to rub the stinging makeup out of his eye and bending over.
"Th-thanks f'not... makin' fun o' me..." he muttered. Even though he was still crying, he felt remarkably better about himself with Sil's support. He couldn't believe he'd found such trustworthiness in a human warrior.
Sil had always made sure to keep up a tough facade in her life, never crying in front of others and hating appearing weak or worthless. Yet she had broken down in front of this goblin and seeing him in such a state had her own eyes start to prickle with tears. Keeping her hands over his shoulders, she slid them up and down his arms slowly in an effort to try help ease him and still speaking in a soft, calm tone.
"I would never make fun of you Nimble.. especially not for this.. I think.. I can understand.."
She tilted her head a little as she looked down at him for a moment, glancing around the room and spotting what she needed. Sil quickly rose and grabbed a few tissues, kneeling down in front of him, she gently rubbed his face with a small, concentrating frown. Moving her hand slowly, she carefully cleaned his cheeks and his jawline with a hand while she used the other to cup the side of his face. It didn't get rid of all the makeup, but it did help dry his face as yet more tears fell.
"Is-.. do you just.. feel more. Like yourself? Like.. um.. you want to feel beautiful?"
She just wanted to understand and hoped she wasn't prying and that by doing so, actually helped him in some way if he talked about it. He never had someone to, he said so himself and Sil couldn't imagine having to keep something like that to herself. She had friends to confide in and talk to. Her voice was void of judgement and just full cautious curiosity, not wishing to have him shy away from her and open up some more.
Nimble's brow stayed pinched as she wiped his face, feeling somewhat like a child but not stopping her. His lip trembled as she helped clean him up--for the second time, even. Sil had seen more of his true self than most anyone, and still she didn't treat him differently or hold any kind of judgement. He thought he may as well try to explain it to her.
"I... *ahem.* I dunno... there's a lotta expectation ta be s-sorta macho...? An'... I'm not. That's not everythin' though!" he quickly explained through the tissue on his face, looking a little worried.
"It's just... I do feel fine, wearing anythin'. But, when, it's... *sniff* when it's feminine like this, it... feels and looks more like... Nimble. Like there's more o' my insides showin'... like I d-don't gotta hide..." he cast his eyes down shamefully.
"But I g-guess I hide, still. Most goblin folk don't care very much, but... k-kids'll use anythin' against ya, and I guess I'm jus'... still a kid... I dunno."
He looked down at his dress, a small smile creeping back as he remembered how good he looked before he ruined his makeup.
"Doesn't change anythin' about me," he almost spoke to himself, now. "Just feels good, ta look pretty... but I'm suh-still... the same guy." He looked back up at her with a sort of lost expression, tears welling again as he thought of the question that constantly killed him inside. He spoke without thinking.
"Why didn't my folks understand that...?"
Nodding a little as he explained, Sil cast aside the dirty tissues onto the floor so she could sweep them up with the debris later. Taking in all that he said and wondering if that accident with his hand was a result of him being bullied because of all this. Nimble's question as he looked at her, had her still for a moment in troubled thought. Sil could somewhat understand all that he's gone through and still going through, just because of how he is inside. Looking off at nothing, she idly held both his hands in his lap, rubbing her thumb over the top of his real hand.
"I think.. some parents just have certain expectations of us.. they never.. never really see you as you own person but more of.. a stepping stone to get ahead in life.."
Knowing that she was speaking more from her own experience rather than trying to offer him an explanation of his own parents, Sil tried to think why and couldn't find anything.
"I guess we both got unlucky with who our parents were.. but it's not our fault and.. I'm.. sorry you feel the need to hide this..Kids can be so horrid.."
The warrior was sincere in that statement and hoped it didn't come off as too lame. She was lucky that most women in armor and performing the roles and duties of men wasn't all too frowned upon and she felt a little blessed for that and wished the Nimble didn't have to hide. In an effort to try and make the conversation lighter again, Sil smiled warmly once more as she spoke and gently squeezed his hands.
"And you really do look pretty.. even with most of your makeup gone."
Nimble nodded in agreement, feeling a little better now that his face was drier and he wasn't scared like he had been at first. But when Sil mentioned her parents, he remembered the news her priestess friend had told him--and he was about to say something, but remembered that Sil didn't even know that he knew that her father was dead... He didn't want to bring it up in case it made her upset.
Still he felt like he needed to hear what she said... about his parents whom she didn't know, and about it not being his fault. It was so easy to believe that he was at fault--if he was only someone different... But he remembered that it just couldn't be on him. He hadn't done anything to hurt anyone.
At her last remark, he suddenly laughed with a kind of happy sob. A smile leapt onto his face while his eyes were still sad, and more tears started to run down his face.
"Dammit. Y-you're makin' me ruin it even muh-more... hehehe..." He didn't want to take his hand away from hers to wipe his face, so he just let his head drop with a sad giggle. He couldn't believe she would say that, and likely mean it. It felt so important... "Thank ya, Sil," he mumbled bashfully, feeling beautiful again.
Then he lifted his head and glanced toward the mirror, exasperated at his ruined makeup.
"...Such a crybaby," he told himself.
#wow#world of warcraft#fanfic#roleplay#story#goblin#art#crossdresser#crying#oc#nimble#sfw#im not sorry#i hope you guys like
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âOut of Reachâ
âYano-chin! Hey, wake up!â
Slumped over her desk, Ayane only offered a muffled groan from the makeshift pillow of her arms. To wake up sheâd need to be asleep first, and that was impossible with Chizu around.
âItâs only the first day of the term! Youâre off to a worse start than me,â Chizu said, clapping a hand on her friendâs shoulder and shaking, to no avail.
Summer vacation had been far from rejuvenating. Her days were spent poring over complex equations, nonsensical English words, and obscure dates that all ran together like a cruel sequence of code. The few hours of sleep sheâd granted herself had been wasted staring at the ceiling of her room.
And it was all his fault.
âUgh, wake up for real this time â Pinâs coming!â
Ayaneâs head shot up from her desk so fast that Chizu nearly fell over.
Did she have any stray hairs? Dried drool on her cheek? Smudged mascara? Her hands were at a loss what to fix first, and before she could decide, Pin was at the front of the classroom.
âSo, how was your summer break, brats? No, donât bother answering â I know it wasnât half as good as MINE!â he yelled, opening the attendance book with a sloppy flourish.
âYeah, right! I watched you get turned down at the convenience store! Iâve never seen a girl run that fast!â
âWhoa, no way! I saw him get rejected at the park! And the movie theater! How is that possible?â
âSHUT UP!! IâM TRYING TO TAKE ATTENDANCE!â
Warmth spread through Ayaneâs cheeks, and it had nothing to do with the summer heat pressing against the windows. She lowered her eyes to the top of her desk, praying that no one had noticed her embarrassing reaction.
Heâs still trying to pick up girls? When will that idiot learnâŠ?
âKURONUMA!â
âH-Here!!â Sawako answered frantically, as if trying to match Pinâs energy.
âSANADA!â
âHere,â Ryu said, his tone sleepy and uninterested.
As Pin screamed through the rest of the list, Ayane found herself staring at him. She may have been tired, but for the first time in her life she had been desperate to return to school. After so many days of not seeing him, her eyes travelled eagerly over the gentle lines of his face, the dark tips of his hair, his long eyelashesâŠ
âYANO?â
He was staring back at her, heavy brows raised and mouth open, like he was waiting for her to speak. The best response her frenzied thoughts could render was a straightforward, spontaneous:
âHuh?â
The whole class burst into laughter, submerging her in an unapologetic chorus of brays, giggles, and snickers. Even Chizu was covering her mouth in an effort to stifle her snorts.
How long had he been calling her name?
The intense heat in her cheeks spread to her ears.
Did everyone notice her staring? Did he�
âHere!â she quickly cried, praying that Pin would spare her any further humiliation.
But he just smirked, turning his eyes back to the class roster.
âYanoâs break must have been so good, sheâs still there!!â
Ayane shot him the greatest glare she could muster, though she found it strangely difficult to stay angry with him as he continued down the list of names. She was the one whoâd let her guard down, after allâŠ
Iâm the idiot!
The nights were starting to cool, and the rain drying on the asphalt rose up in a weak mist over the streets. The cricket-song had long faded, but the sound of water dripping into drains filled the silence left by summerâs passing.
Sawako and Kurumi were walking home in the opposite direction, their long hair bobbing gently as they went. Studying together at the library after cram school was becoming routine, and for Ayane, it was a welcome distraction.
At home she was too scattered to accomplish much of anything.
The sight of Kurumi and Sawako striving towards a common goal never failed to motivate her. How often had she wished to be someone like them? Cute, intelligent, and above all, honest. In love with the same boy, they had both fought to make their feelings known, even at the risk of a painful rejection.
I could never do something that stupidâŠ
Ayane smiled a little, turning her back on their receding figures. The walk to her house was long, too long, but she shortened the distance with quick, efficient steps.
A too-long walk meant too much time to think.
In the middle of studying for the most important exam of her life, her traitorous mind continued to circle around Pin. What he might tell her if he knew she was struggling. The feeling of his hands enveloping her own, his hand on her shoulders, his hand on her head. The memory of his touch never failed to reassure herâŠ
Every morning he was in the careful curl of her lashes, the pat of blush to her cheeks, and the gloss on her lips. The face staring back at her in the mirror was the face he would see that day, after all. Pin would have doubled over laughing if he knew that she cared what he thought of her appearance. Last year she might have joined him, mocking the girl who wanted such a cocky, careless, coarse man to think she was beautiful.
Ayaneâs cheeks flamed at such an embarrassing idea. How old was she? Thirteen? Five? With those fairytale expectations she felt young beyond her years. Besides, what would it matter if Pin thought she were pretty? Heâd neverâŠ
She stopped in her tracks.
NeverâŠwhat?
She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head from side to side to banish those reckless, terrifying thoughts.
What am I going to do? I need to get a grip, before someone sees meâŠ
âOh! Itâs you, Yano!â
His voice washed over her like a pitcher of ice water, and her body went rigid at the sound. Looking over her shoulder, her eyes confirmed the horror of her ears.Â
Pin stood not five feet behind her, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. He eyed her with a certain suspicion, as if he were struggling to read her frightened expression.
âWhat are you doing out this late? Cram school was done hours ago,â he said, taking a step towards her.
Ayane quickly turned her head away from him. âI was studying at the libraryâŠâ
âHa! I figured as much. The way you were dragging your feet was a dead giveaway,â he said, and she could hear the cocky smile in his voice.
âNo way! Were you stalking me or something?!â
âMy apartment is this way too, idiot!!â
âThat doesnât meanââ
The words died in her throat as she turned around to find they were no more than a foot apart. He looked down at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement.
âYouâre studying so hard thereâs no more room in your brain for comebacks!â
She took a step back, adjusting the bag on her arm. âIâmâŠthatâs notâŠâ
Her cheeks were burning, just like that afternoon at the train station. Being close to him had been much harder since then, despite the fact that she increasingly craved his company. How could someone like him make her feel so awkward?
âLetâs keep moving â I donât have any extra meat to protect me from the cold,â Pin said with a smirk, rubbing his hands together as he walked past her.
âI-I donât have any extra meat on me either, if thatâs what youâre implying!â she stammered, running to catch up to him as his pace quickened.
The rain-darkened streets were empty and quiet save for the echoes of their coupled footsteps, soft and rhythmic, like a pulse. Her own heartbeat was aggressive and angry, so she kept her gaze fixed on the minute cracks in the pavement.
One look at him would kill her.
âNot too long before it snows,â Pin said, tilting his head back. âThis year is really flying. Pretty soon youâll be taking examsâŠâ
âDonât remind me,â she said, her shoulders slumping forward.
âYouâre too young to be that tired!â he said, pointing a finger at her drooping posture.
âIâm doing my best, okay? Even when I sleep I dream about studying,â Ayane said, vigorously rubbing her eyes.
Too young. Iâll always be âtoo youngââŠ
Pin suddenly turned away from her, hands clapped over his mouth. Panic ran cold down from her head. Had she said that last part out loud?!
âI-I can explain!!â
Then she heard them: the quietest of snorts.
âAre youâŠ?â
The dam broke, and laughter erupted from deep in his chest.
âYou must really be tiredâŠyourâŠeyesâŠBWAHAHAHAHA!!!â
What the�
Her hands shook as she retrieved a compact mirror from her bag. Flipping the lid, she braced herself for the worst.
The eyeliner and mascara she had carefully reapplied before leaving the library were generously smeared around her eyelids, and her lashes were thick and clumped together, sticking out at strange angles. Sheâd been so wrapped up in their conversation that sheâd rubbed her eyes without thinking!
âYouâd give Kuronuma a run for her money!â he cried, wiping a tear from his eye.
This wasnât how sheâd wanted him to notice her efforts, but seeing the way this laughter brightened his face almost made up for the initial embarrassment. She could see the happy little creases at the edges of his eyes, the dimple winking near the corner of his mouthâŠ
Her cheeks flushed as she turned her face away from him again. It was all too easy to get caught up staring at him.
âHey, your face is kind of red. Are you feeling okay?â
She froze in her tracks. How could she play this off?
âI-Itâs nothingâŠIâm just a little cold â thatâs all!â
They continued walking without another word, and for the first time that evening Ayane could breathe a sigh of relief. Pin kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, as if lost in thought, but he seemed to have accepted her explanation. There had to be a way to control her blushing, or this would be a very long yearâŠ
Since their meeting at the train station, sheâd become aware of the strange sensations he produced in the pit of her stomach. Light-headed and queasy, with heart racing, sheâd been sure she was deathly ill at first. But with that intense nervousness there was intertwined a euphoric excitement that was addicting. She suddenly craved his presence; every afternoon as she walked the halls of Kitahoro High, she fanned a flicker of hope that theyâd meet. That sheâd catch a glimpse of him, or hear his wild voice reverberating through the walls.
I really am patheticâŠ
She was startled out of her thoughts by a slightly scratchy material brushing past her cheek.
Pin stood close to her side, wrapping a long, marled gray scarf around her in tight loops; before she could faint from the shock, he had stacked it all the way up to her eyes. Sputtering and more red than ever, she ripped the garment away from her face.
âW-What are you doing?!â
âYou said you were cold, so Iâm letting you borrow my scarf,â he said, shoving his hands back into the pockets of his jacket.
âI can see thatâŠbutâŠâ she said, grabbing each end of the scarf, ââŠdonât you need it?â
âYou canât afford to get sick right now.â
Her chest tightened, and for a moment she was sure there were tears in her eyes. He was worried about her healthâŠ!
Turning away from him, she carefully re-wound the scarf around her neck, adjusting the oversized garment as best she could. It had a distinct smell that was difficult to describe. Warm. Soft. Salty. Deep. Her eyes fluttered closed as she breathed it in.
His smell.
âIâm surprised you didnât just give me a trash bag,â she said, smiling a little into the warm knit.
âCrap! And the convenience storeâs up ahead too! Give that back to me,â he demanded, holding out his hand.
âThank you,â she said, looking him in the face for the first time.
His expression seemed to soften, and his mouth curved into a gentle smile. Rubbing the back of his neck, he resumed their former pace.
âYeah, well it looks silly on you,â he said with a mischievous grin.
âThen it goes great with my makeup,â she said, playfully blinking her smudged eyes at him.
He laughed, tilting his head back to stare up at the sky. âYouâve got that right!â
As they neared her house, Ayane gradually slowed her steps. Their walks never felt quite long enough, but tonight the idea of parting with him was almost unbearable. Why? She would see him again tomorrow, and the day after. But in the halls of Kitahoro there were a thousand reminders that despite their affinity, they really were living in two different worlds. There, they conversed across a wide desk, she in her uniform and Pin with a pen in his hand.
âWhat do you think of me?â
The question still haunted her months after that meeting. She hadnât meant anything by it, not then, but with each passing day, the desire to know his answer loomed over her thoughts. He had probably forgotten that exchange, as well as every one theyâd ever had. She seemed to remember every word he said, but there was no way he did the same for her.
Why would he?
Sneaking a glance at his face in the cold, unnatural light of the street lamp, she felt a deep ache in her chest. Being this close to him would make it all the more difficult to be apart in the morning.
It wasnât fair.
âHere we are,â he suddenly announced, stopping in front of the entrance to her house.
Do you want to come in? Just for a minute? I could make us some tea, or grab you a beer? We donât have to drink anything. Oh, just to talk. I have a few questions about the application processâŠI know I could ask you at our next conference, but I thought I should do it while theyâre fresh in my mind.
We donât even have to speak. Being near you is enough for me.
âBe careful on your way home. Sawako told me she felt a presence today as we were leaving the library, so who knows where it is now. Those spirits move fast,â she said, quickly stepping onto the walkway.
âI HAVE TO GO!!â Pin yelled, sprinting down the street.
Thatâs that, then. See, it wasnât so hard to split up, was it? You were sad for nothingâŠ
As she turned the key in the lock she was suddenly aware of the weight around her neck.
Crap! I forgot to give him his scarf!
Slipping the key into her pocket and dropping her bag in front of the door, Ayane raced back towards the street.
He was running so fast earlier, I probably wonât be able to catch up â
But there he was, no more than a few yards ahead. She was surprised to see he was walking slowly, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.
Heâs braver than I thoughtâŠ
âPin! Wait!â she called, unwinding the scarf as she ran to meet him.
âAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!â he screamed, stumbling backwards as she approached. âStay away from me, Spirit!!! Iâm just a humble homeroom teacher, Iâve never done anything wrong and ââ
She stopped in her tracks. Spirit?
âItâsâŠjustâŠmeâŠâ she said, bending over a little to catch her breath.
âItâs just you, YanoâŠâ he repeated, staring down at her with a look of wary relief in his eyes. âYou know, itâs not nice to play pranks on your superiors!â
She held out his scarf. âUnlike you, I donât enjoy tormenting people! Keep better track of your things.â
âYouâre welcome,â Pin grumbled, reaching for the long garment. âKids have no sense of gratitude these days!â
âYouâre one to talk! I ran all the way over here to give it back to you when it would have been so much easier to just throw it in the trash once I got inside!â she yelled, her tongue lashing at Pinâs ego.
âWhy, you â !â
They stood there for a few moments, bristling but silent in the cold night air. Ayane stared at her feet in an effort to obscure her blazing cheeks from his gaze. That wasnât how sheâd meant to react, but only he seemed capable of drawing those biting retorts out of herâŠ
I should apologize.
âIâmâŠsorry. Thank you for letting me borrow your scarf,â she said quietly, still staring at the ground.
He didnât answer her right away, and for a second she wondered if he was actually angry with her.
âThanks for returning it.â
His soft voice took her by surprise. She met his eyes in spite of her self-consciousness, but her heart still leapt at the sight of him.
âIt was nothing,â she said, feeling for the bag that was no longer on her shoulder. âI thought youâd be halfway to your apartment by now.â
He clicked his tongue at her, wrapping the massive scarf around his neck. On him the knit looked completely normal; sheâd been swimming in it! She couldnât help but stare as he effortlessly adjusted it. His long fingers were surprisingly elegant for their size, and they captured her attention with their precise movements.
They really are beautifulâŠ
âIs something wrong? You kinda zoned out,â Pin said, waving his hand in front of her face.
A new surge of heat rushed to her cheeks at his sudden proximity, and she shook her head frantically to cover for it. Did he have any idea how he made her feel?
âWell, you should probably head home now. I donât want to be blamed for distracting you!â he said with a laugh.
You have no idea!!
âR-Right!â she squeaked, trying to look sincere. âThank you againâŠfor the scarf.â
âNight, Yano,â he said with a gentle smile, turning away from her and starting down the lamp-lit street.
âGood night!â she called after him.
Pin answered her with a brief wave of his arm. As his impressive shape sank into the shadows at the end of the street, Ayane was suddenly overcome with the desire to follow him into that dark unknown.
What would it feel like to walk with him all the way back to an apartment they shared?Â
Her house would be just another building they had to pass on the journey home, and not the end of their time together. Unlocking the door, she would see their shoes, side by side against the wall; though sheâd make sure that hers were neatly placed, sheâd leave his the way he haphazardly tossed them on the floor. She would scold him as a formality, but secretly sheâd treasure the little signs that he lived there.
Dinner wouldnât be anything special, just the cup noodles they had hiding in the back of the pantry. But he would loudly praise her for it while messily slurping it down, as if the way she carefully poured the boiling water into the Styrofoam had any bearing on the taste. Heâd grin at her across the table, laughing at something his students did that day or teasing her about the way her face still turns red when she holds his hand.
At night, he would begrudgingly let her ruin the hairstyle he was so proud of. Sheâd run her fingers through his hair, ruffling the thick strands and assuring him that he was even more handsome with it down. Heâd press a soft kiss to her lips.
âThatâs why youâre the only one who gets to see it,â heâd say.
Lying together on the futon, she would insist that itâs time they buy a big, Western-style bed. Heâd remind her that the apartment was too small for that, and besides, futons were much cooler. Sheâd snuggle closer to him in the dark, promising that sheâd earn a raise soon and that once she did, theyâd find a spacious house with room for a thousand beds, so heâd better get used to the idea. Heâd scrunch up his face in mock-anger, declaring that if he gets the raise first, theyâll buy the spacious house, but theyâll sleep on this very futon for the rest of their lives!
Sheâd pretend to fall asleep to his arguing, and when heâd eventually realize that sheâd drifted off, heâd let out a tiny, exasperated sigh.
âYouâre such a painâŠâ
Heâd gently stroke her cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
âNight, Ayane.â
When sheâd finally hear the sound of his quiet snoring, sheâd move even closer, burying her face in his chest. Sheâd always fall asleep this way, submerged in his deep, familiar scent, with his comforting pulse beating against her cheek.
âGood night, PinâŠâ
Ayane covered her eyes, shoulders quivering in the chill of the night. Her silly, embarrassing fantasies were just that: fantasies.
All her life sheâd taken pride in her sense of realism. People might have called her cynical or pessimistic, but sheâd avoided a great deal of pain thanks to her outlook on life. Without any expectations sheâd felt free to live without worry.
It wasnât failing if she didnât try in the first place.
Then Pin forced her to doubt everything she thought she knew about herself. Sheâd dismissed his suggestions at first, but, sure enough, beneath that cool, detached façade was a deep ambition sheâd tried for years to ignore. âAyane Yanoâ was not the mature, aloof woman with both feet planted firmly on the ground.
She was a teenage dreamer reaching for a distant sky with stars in her eyes.
Now, without knowing it, he was inspiring all sorts of strange new feelings in the depths of her heart. At first sheâd excused them as a kind of pathetic admiration for the lessons heâd taught her over the years. But admiration didnât make you long for someoneâs touch the way she longed for his.
âAdmirationâ didnât capture the racing of her heart when she caught a glimpse of him.
Walking back towards her house, she resolved to fight against those persistent feelings by studying harder than ever. Pinâs face would be forced out of her mind by newly memorized algorithms and formulas. The sound of his voice drowned out by English CDs on repeat. Diagrams, essays, and case studies would supplant every last trace of him.
She just had to make it to graduation, and then all of the confusing sensations would disappear. They wouldnât see each other regularly after that, and if she were accepted to J University in Tokyo, she probably wouldnât see him ever again. She would eventually forget about him, and he would definitely forget about her.
The thought should have lightened her mood, but as she passed through the front door, she felt sick to her stomach.
 What am I going to do?
Thank you so much for reading! (Now go rest your poor eyes!)
There have been massive developments in the last few months for ayapin, but I wanted to explore what Ayane might have been going through in the period between Chapter 107 and Chapter 111. The first part takes place when they return from summer vacation, and the second takes place in late September / early October.
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