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soobasaur · 3 years

Text

spent all my love on you

lee!felix x gender!neutral reader

warnings: since laser tag is in this fic theres mentions of shooting and guns, which is referring to the game where they shoot other players in order to gain points, nothing violent

a/n: hey look a felix au finally in your pov! i told you i’d do it hehe,, and if you remember when i accidentally posted this then no you don’t (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃ i’ll finish ur requests i swear ಠ_ಠ anyways enjoy!

« masterlist prev work »

for the longest time, your lifelong friend jisung had been bugging you to go to this arcade with him

you eventually said yes since you physically couldn’t say no to his puppy eyes and he took you there one weekend

he was practically bouncing the entire way, babbling about all the people you’d meet

turns out he came here every weekend to play laser tag with a couple of friends he made here

this was news to you, but you let jisung lead you to a pool table in the back where six boys were..attempting to play pool?

after several games of game pigeon pool you were an expert !! or at least more then what these guys were doing

the one with long hair was holding the billiard the wrong way (╥_╥)

you could hear the cheerful laughs coming from them as jisung tugged you beside him

“guys, this is y/n, the friend i mentioned! y/n these are the dumbasses i started hanging out with-,”

“if anything, you’re the dumbass!” the one holding the billiard upside down reprimanded, dropping the stick and making his way towards you both “i’m hyunjin, nice to meet you!”

“hi hyunjin—,”

“move out of the way! hi i’m jeongin!” a new boy appeared, shoving hyunjin away as he held his hand out

“oh, hello!”

one by one all the boys came up to introduce themseleves to you, well six of them at least, didn’t jisung say there were seven of them?

“where the hell is felix?” jisung asked, looking towards who you now knew as minho “is he doing the thing again?”

minho solemnly nodded before gesturing to the claw machine a couple feet away from them, and there stood a blond haired boy with his back faced to them as he aggressively tried to win what looked like a stuffed animal

jisung shook his head before gesturing for you to follow him

“is this a normal occurrence?” you asked as you both made your way to the boy

“yeah, last month is was the dance revolution game and this week it’s the claw machine-felix!”

said boy let go of the claw to turn and smile widely at the both of them “sungie! do you have a token i can use to try again? pleaseeee?”

jisung rolled his eyes as he tossed the boy a token before pointing to you

“this is y/n, they’re playing with us now.”

“oh,” felix turned his head to you, giving you a once over before winking “nice to meet you,” before rolling the token in “let me make my first impression winning a stuffed toy!”

“you’ve been at this forever, which one do you want?” jisung asked, waking closer to press his head against the glass

felix solemnly pointed to the chick plushie tucked into the corner, and you admit it was cute so you could see why he was trying so hard

“want me to try?” you asked, stepping closer as you looked over the machine

“go for it!” he smiled, moving out of your way to press himself against the glass next to jisung

you clicked start and took a hold of the joystick

you squinted your eyes and found the same plushie a bit closer, hidden behind another one and aimed for that instead

you heard gasps coming from where the two boys were standing as the claw grabbed the two plushies and dropped them into the box

and since you had some extra seconds left you managed to grab one more

“there you go!” you pulled out the plushies and handed felix the chick one and gave jisung the squirrel one, keeping the llama one for yourself

“wow we all match now!” jisung cheered

“thank you!” felix said, his eyes shining with glee as he looked at you, and you were this close to getting all the plushies out so he could always look this happy

“no problem-,”

“HEY LOSERS OUR GAME IS STARTING HURRY UP!” you heard minho interrupt, as he and the other boys disappeared behind some doors

you guys ran behind him, tucking the plushies away for later

there was another group of people with you and since the teams were randomized, your group got split up after getting the gear on

“prepare to lose!” hyunjin teased, sticking his tongue out at you, chan, seungmin, and jeongin (who were on the same team as you)

“shut up!” jeongin glared, holding up his laser gun and pretending to shoot the other

jisung joined in and started to play shoot you, while you feigned getting shot

before you could play shoot him back the lights went off and the gate opened, letting you guys inside as the game was about to start

you and your team each split up, making plans to shoot at least one member

your ignore the way your stomach fluttered at the thought of felix chasing after you but quickly shook those out of the way, you had to stay focused !

once the bell rang you were off, you hid behind the walls as you shot a couple of the other team’s players

you spotted a familiar pair of shoes and quickly went to go shoot jisung, who gave you a pout as you ran off giggling

you watched your score steadily go up as you got more and more people, and the adrenaline was getting to you, you were motivated to win this thing 〴⋋_⋌〵

you had only been shot a couple of times so you weren’t too worried about getting caught,

you were currently hiding in the corner where no one had found you yet as you shot anyone who ran past

you were just about to shoot a player on the opposing team when you felt a prescence behind you

quickly turning around you were met with felix giving you a sly grin as he backed you into the wall

“your cornered now y/n,” he whispered, pulling out the gun as he aimed it at your vest, “game over for you.”

you ignored the fast beating of your heart as he made his way closer, his free hand coming to make trace its way down your jaw

“you look really pretty under these lights,” he muttered, quirking an eyebrow up and he angled his face a bit closer “lucky i get to see you like this.”

you were too nervous to squeak out a thank you as felix closed the gap between the two of you, but just before he could come any closer you heard the familiar beep on your vest

you look down to see you’ve been shot and felix shooting you a sly grin, the little shit

“distracted by my charm?” he teased, his lips right beside your ear, “am i that handsome?”

you rolled your eyes as he backed away

“i’d love to stay but your vest is charging up so i’m gonna blast, bye sweetheart,” he blew you a kiss before running off

you huffed as you waiting for your vest to reset, following after the blonde boy as you did so

no way you were gonna let him get the last shot between the two of you

and maybe you wanted to be that close again to him...

after ducking behind a couple of pillars you finally spotted him crouching behind a wall as he shot one of your teammates

you let yourself grin in victory as you made your way behind him, making sure you weren’t seen, then aiming your gun at the back of his vest

you shot him and watched in glee as his vest gave out a beep and saw him look around for the culprit before spotting you giggling behind him

“you!” he smiled, geting up from his hiding place on the ground and wagging his gun at you

“you didn’t expect to get away with that, did you?” you laughed, backing away as he made his way closer to you and holding out your gun, “i’ll get you again!”

“cool down time is a minute,” he grinned, letting you back yourself up into the wall, “what do you wanna do with that one minute?”

you let your eyes wander off toward his lips,,but you swear it was cus he was talking!

not cus he looked extremely kissable

perhaps you stared too long cus he took notice and cupped your jaw

“mhm, ten seconds is enough,”

“enough for what—?”

you were shut up with his lips capturing yours, leading you for a bit before pulling back

“sorry babe but my time is up,” he winked before shooting you in the vest and running off

took you a few moment to realize what happened before you were chasing after him

“FELIX YOU MF”

when the game ended you and felix were tied to your immense surprise, while jisung was currently boasting about his first place

now that you were out of the dim lit laser tag room you could see felix in better light,

and god damn

you could see the swear glistening on his face from all the running and his unkempt hair from the humid room

you weren’t too sure if this was a one time thing or he actually wanted to try something with you

you were crossing your fingers it was the latter

you got ur answer soon enough when you felt a tap on your shoulder and an awkward felix made his appearance

it was endearing to see his confident side and nervous one all in one day

“do you maybe wanna, grab lunch after tomorrow? just me and you?”

you played along to being oblivious before you replied,

“lee felix...are you asking me out?”

his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink before nodding at you

you gave him a smile before saying yes, the rest was history

bonus headcanons:

apparently jisung had a bet on which one of his friends you would end up dating, ro your surprised he had guessed it would be felix

ಠ_ಠ sometimes you forgot how well jisung knew you

you also found out he didn’t come every week just for laser tag, he also wanted to get close to a specific boy named changbin ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

which was endless teasing material for you

after the lunch date the next day, you both stopped by the arcade again and this time he managed to win you a little prize

since you both had just met one another a good majority of your dates were just you two chatting as you walked aimlessly, getting to know one another

and after about one month he invited you over to his place to cook dinner for you, which is where you shared your next kiss <3

thank you for reading ⁂

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thirstybtsthoughts · 4 years

Text

Angry/Pissed off BTS

To my lovely followers - thank you for all your input on this! I hope you enjoy reading each others ideas!

Namjoon

Seeing that angry Namjoon post is making think that all I want is for him to fuck me from behind while having one hand wrapped around my throat and spanking my ass with his other while calling me a bad girl and making me cum over and over until I’m a sobbing mess 😩 Daddy Joonie got me fucked uuuuuuppp!! - anon

Imagine Namjoon is performing at a concert and he looks into the audience to see you flashing him your tits cheekily. Though no-one else noticed, too busy enjoying the show, he is infuriated and seeks you out angrily after the show. He takes you home and ties you up on the bed, edging you for hours using his mouth and cock as a punishment - Bunny 🐰

Imagine Joon being super pissed off after an interview because they asked stupid questions, so he takes his frustration out on you, pulling you into the nearest closet room and making you get on your knees to suck him off, thrusting into your mouth ruthlessly. Then he cums in your mouth and tells you to swallow like a good girl. - Bunny 🐰

Seokjin

Jin always gets "fake" mad, mostly cus he just wants to make others laugh, he isnt trying to be that serious! But u just know that when its on, ITS ON! He doesnt look like the type too would be a rough dom but if you push his buttons HE WILL SNAP! He'll punish u for being such a brat, fuck u face down in the matress, spank u until ur ass is red and sore and grab u by the neck so you'll stay down and finish in ur bare back!!! But then he'll check if ur okay cus hes a gentleman ~knee anon

Tbh I can't see Jin getting angry easily but what would make him angry imo is you spending waayyyy too much time with one of the members and laughing at the member's jokes too much, chosing to sit next to them and not Jin, maybe not giving Jin enough attention so he'd just grab you and drag you to the bedroom to fuck you mercilessly till you forget everything except his name - anon

Imagine Jin being your Dom, being bratty and misbehaving for him, his voice goes quiet as he gets angry. He spanks you then teases and edges you for hours as punishment, leaving you whimpering and begging, and the whole time he has this angry smirk going. Maybe he chokes you at some point too, and after he’s done with you, he makes you blow him, pulling on your hair to make you take him deeper (rough angry Dom Jin is dreamy as anything) - anon

Yoongi

Omg I can totally imagine Yoongi being angry at you in the studio, because you're not hitting the notes/singing the way he wants you to. So he finally just has enough and fucks you over his desk and maybe even possibly records your moans for another song of his... - baby boy

Imagine Yoongi thinks he’s been making progress flirting with you only he overheard your friend teasing you about it and you’re embarrassed so you’re dismissive like, “He’s just a baby-faced little shit who likes messing w/people” so Yoongi waits until he can corner you and prove he’s not messing around at all. - anon

Angry Yoongi oouuff!! I can imagine him in his studio seething at some stupid vlive comment or something like that and then I visit him there bcuz i was missing him for some days and he ends up releasing his anger by roughly fucking me in his studio couch🥴🥵 - anon

Hoseok

Angry J-Hope? You mean, sweaty, aggressive J-Hope in a private, 1-2-1 dance practise, late at night - frustrated at how you keep messing up until finally he grabs you and shows you how to do the move by posing you, except now you're face to face, panting, and he ends up punishment-fucking you there in front of/pressed against the big mirrors? THAT angry Hope? - anon

Broskis hobi when he's reviewing dance choreos ya know that face? Now that for pissed off hobi. Like he would just give you that look and you would already be sinking to your knees in front of him - anon

Hobi angry scenario: either he's trying to teach you a new dance routine & you keep failing &it pisses him off bc he showed it to you so many times so he just pins you against him &leads you through it roughly with great emphasis on moving the hips so he finally forces you to ride him just to show him that you can actually move your hips OR he's at an award show watching you do a sexy performance with someone else after you told him you wouldn't do it & he's so pissed he fucks you backstage - anon

Jimin

One good way to piss off Jimin would be to send him a nude or dirty text right before he goes on stage. I wonder what he'd do after the concert. - anon

I remember once tae said jimin is the scariest when angry and i really cant get that out of my mind now! I feel like he would just ignore you if you are horny but he is still mad, give you the silence treatment only to make you want him more and get more desperate! And he is secretly horny to, palmimg himself when you arent looking, but he would never admit it cus its just so much more fun to watch you beg, all desperate for his cock😩 - anon

Angry Jimin- you've done something dangerous and,as he cares about you,you will be taught a lesson,you'll learn to obey.Oh,the edging,his tongue nowhere near your core,the whispered swearing in your ear with that delicious accent, fingering you with 4fingers until you become a sobbing pliant mess and promise to behave. His quiet "finally" as he fish-hooks your cheek with the fingers coated in your juices and pounds you mercilessly as you taste yourself and come mumbling 'thank you sir's☺ - anon

Taehyung

bro taehyung when he's mad. the growls and grunts the faces he'd make ohmygod ㅠㅠ them big ass hands spanking you, choking you, manhandling you. like either 1) he'd do all the work - missionary so his thighs literally smack against your hips - or doggy thighs againt ass n spanking hairpulling or 2) he'd make you work for it so you'd be on top and he'd just be laying there hands folded behind his head and you would be whining tf out or doggy again and you'd fuck yourself on him - anon

Just thinking about teasing Tae until we get home and he’s so pissed off/worked up. He just gives that stare and unbuckles his belt. He wouldn’t even need to say anything and I’d be on my knees - anon

Here's a scenario for an angry Taehyung; you had challenged tae to see how long he can go without sex but within a few days you were so needy but he won't giving in, so you thought that maybe he needed abit of a push. You went up to kookie, sat by him and put your legs over his. Jungkook was startled and gave you a puzzled look so you whispered into he's ear explaining the situation.. you put your hands on his chest. It really didn't take much for tae to get pissed. You could feel his gaze on you and you looked at him and mouthed "fuck me now". He got up in a instant to you by your wrist and headed straight to the bedroom ... 🤡🤡🤡 - anon

Jungkook

Imagine getting tied up by Kookie because you disobeyed him and made him angry… so he ends up tying you up and torturing you with toys for hours… completely stopping before you can cum… he’d be smirking the entire time with his arms crossed, licking his lips and every so often leaving a hickey on you somewhere… and then when he feels like you deserve it, he’d take out the toys and eat you out until you come undone from his tongue… - baby boy

My angry idea of Kookie is during a day when they are super busy. And it's early in the day but he cant do anything till way late in the evening. I'll spend the first half of the day trying to turn him on, hot stolen kisses, inappropriate touches and I'll pull away exactly when he doesn't want me to and act like I've done nothing. The second half of the day id flirt with someone else in front of JK and ignore him COMPLETELY, making sure that by the time we can get home he's MAD AF with me - anon

So I really like playing Overwatch, and I just imagined me and Kookie in a tournament or something, and me accidentally losing the game for us, so later on he comes over and angrily fucks me over my computer desk because of how pissed he is at me for losing 😳😳😶😶 - baby boy

#I compiled literally every picture I could find of the guys looking pissed off 😂#bts #bts smut #bts thirst #namjoon #jungkook #jimin #yoongi #hoseok #seokjin #taehyung

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g3nosarchive · 3 years

Text

ok i genuinely think a lot of other people have this problem but stop inserting yourself when xyz issue is mentioned. when someone is telling you that a person, a celebrity, some franchise is harming their identity or anyone’s identity as a minority, or part of a certain race or religion or anything shut the fuck up and accept it.

they do not need to know your emotional attachment to said thing, your disbelief, your horror, your personal experience - we didn’t ask for all that. we know just how bad it is, cus yk it harms us maybe? we’ve already gone through the cycle of being angry and indignant and now we’re here trying to get you to understand in the hopes that as a friend you do what you’re meant to do when you became friends with us. we are not your constant ball of anger to use whenever you find something that’s “crazy, unbelievably, shockingly” once again, a hate crime, when you decide you want to feel angry and care about it.

more under the cut bc i talk too much

by doing that, you’re making an issue that you didn’t even know about suddenly yours. ask yourself, what is the purpose for telling anyone all that? to get them to sympathize with you personally so you can get a pass because you didn’t know? of course you don’t know, of course you’re unaware, that’s the whole reason why you’re being told in the first place. do not water down the issue or even try to play the ‘everything has some issue like this so there’s no point in going this far’ card. especially as a white person. the reason why you don’t know primarily is because it doesn’t affect you and it doesn’t cross your mind.

when you watch a show with a black character, you don’t care about how off the character design is or how stereotypical and borderline racist the comedy gag surrounding said character is. when you listen to your favorite white music artists or watch your favorite movie with a majority white cast, white staff, white team, and white theme, you don’t care to analyze just how outdated and stereotypical the way that token asian character is portrayed. some of y’all don’t understand and will never understand the mental struggle and awareness forever plugged into the brain of lgbt and/or poc, especially black people when we consume anything, when we go anywhere, when we meet new people, to constantly catch those micro aggressions and know what to avoid.

so when someone tells you insert classic hot mess is racist and you should stop supporting it, one of the worst things you can do beside outright rejecting it is to defend it and insinuate that we don’t know what we’re talking about, that we need 30 different sources to prove it all, that you don’t think (for example taylor swifts dream colonized africa mv) is bad. you try to say the thing or person that is actively promoting all this homophobia, racism, transmisogyny etc needs to be kindly educated, is trying their best, will learn soon enough, just wasn’t educated, will do better in the future (esp looking at u kpop stans). does their apparent regret but refusal to properly apologize actually matter? the damage has already been done.

that in itself is a privilege i could never have. i don’t even try being a fan of any major white celebrity or any kpop group because i guarantee if i search up their name with ‘racist’, ‘sexist’, ‘homophobic’, ‘transphobic’, ‘cultural appropriation’ behind it something or some image is bound to show up. you will all say “oh they haven’t done anything yet” but when it comes out that they did, they have, and they do not care about who it affects, suddenly it’s a bombshell dropped on you out of nowhere.

it’s not that hard to spot these things actually. if your fav is constantly putting themselves against people of color, saying shady shit about non cishets while being a cishet themself, saying one thing and doing another, or has been silent when their voice was expected to speak up, shouldn’t you notice? y’all will reblog all these posts but in reality only 10% are actually reading and listening and actually digesting this information for future use.

and i think the thing that pisses me off is this is all from personal experience where i’m speaking from. over the past 2 days the amount of times if i’ve heard about the “tea that dropped w meghan markle” is ridiculous and annoying. a girl texted me and i sat there and i realized that she does this on a daily basis to fuel my anger and get me to validate her own useless anger. of course i knew about it and i wasn’t surprised at all - she’s still a black woman.

almost every black blog on here, when they get big enough, deals with some sort of weird shit surrounding their blackness. if you get big on speaking about issues you are now this emotionless token ‘smart black person i can actually trust’ to use as your replacement for google. this is not to say asking questions is bad, but it is so easy to pull up some of the shit you guys ask for. some people get called slurs directly, targeted for being too black or not black enough, attacked for their features and etc and someone mentioned this before but the only people that care in those situations are other black people themselves. white people will have blm in their bio but turn the other way the minute some anon starts acting up in their mutuals’ inbox, calling them a dark1e because they felt confident enough to post some selfies. and then you get sad when we dont go to you for any kind of support?

i’ve stated sometimes that asking me questions on issues and things is okay, but one of the main reasons i say that is because whether i say it or not, i’ll be asked questions and expected to know everything and i am your personal walking encyclopedia and ofc it’s natural for me to have all this information in my head, as if i didn’t research it myself. but then i think about the numerous amounts of people that specifically say not to ask them this shit because it really does tire you out, that they don’t want to have to deal with this in any space but they still get them.

and then the ones that don’t even know themself so people will use them as an example and say “well this person didn’t know and they’re ‘marginalized identity’ so it should be fine for me too”. good god just apologize, show that you really care, change your behavior and move on. do you think it was fun being asked the statistics for george floyd’s and other black peoples death in class? that you were being inclusive and giving me a chance to show off my intelligence, to prove to others that i really had something up here and you were my greatest star eyes white friend that gave me that chance? i cant close my posts like this properly but i want you to think about that shit and actually ask yourself if you’d do that. a lot of you will read this and think “i’m not that type of racist” “i don’t have those deep seated prejudices in me” yes you do. you just haven’t been called out on it.

for all the shit ive dealt with above, if i’ve ever talked to you about this before dont come to me to apologize i do not need it and you are not the only person i’ve received this from. i guarantee you that there’s about 20 other people i’ve thought about while writing this post considering i’m a black person in the real world, so keep your guilt to yourself an deal with it

white people don’t add on to this

#important #antiblackness #george floyd #death mention #ok to rb #more than ok but #here it is 😇#ill rb this everyday if i have to

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courtlyharlequin · 4 years

Note

Hello, may I order some rose tea with riddle please~ thank you very much! ♡♡♡

My Rose-Colored Boy

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this! There’s also a song by the same name of the title (you should listen to it), but it actually isn’t the inspiration for this fic. The actual inspiration is a song called Green Tea and Honey by Dane Amar. You can listen to it here.

Coffee shop-hopping— unhealthy pastime of yours. You didn’t even like coffee. You label yourself as a tea person yourself. Yet there is a certain atmosphere in a coffee shop that no teahouse could never replicate. While you are not so keen on the bitter aftertaste of coffee, its scent stirs up a foreign sense of solace in your mind. A day’s stress melts away after you waft in the aroma of freshly ground beans. It clears away the murky gray clouds that clog the back of your head. For that reason alone, for that feeling that you cannot get enough of, you visit a plethora of cafes a day if you have time on your hands.

You could easily name your personal favorites but you would never come back to them on a daily basis. You would usually come back at two day intervals. Yes, they were your personal favorites, but you prefer hunting for new cafes, expanding your already extensive list of places to escape from reality– or at least your responsibilities.

Keyword: usually.

For the past few weeks, you find yourself coming to the same cafe every day, on a daily basis. And today, you find yourself at the same cafe once more. This is the second time you’ve set foot into the coffeehouse. Or should you say greenhouse? Café Rosé. A coffee shop with many rose themed beverages. The interior is heavily adorned with faux flowers. The windows were tinted with a rosy pink. The shop smelled more like roses than actual coffee. It’s.. out-putting, but it also induces yet another foreign feeling of comfort within you. Quite frankly, you favor the scent of roses and coffee nowadays rather than the scent of coffee by itself.

But.. that wasn’t the only reason.

The barista greets you as the door hits the chime, cuing your entrance: “Ah! Welcome back, (y/n).”

“Hello again, Riddle,” you curtly reply.

“What can I get for you today?” he asks, making his way to the register.

“Surprise me. I already had my usual earlier today. I would like to… try something new…”

“Alright then. I’ll be ready with your order shortly. Would you like to–”

“Card, Riddle,” you beam, handing the thin plastic over to him.

He took it sheepishly, flustered by your assertive gesture. Every day for the past few weeks had been routine. He knows your usual, your preferences, how you like your tea brewed– the little things that he managed to pick up from your brief interactions. One wouldn’t call him perceptive or observant, but he sees himself as one who is able to connect the dots and see patterns if they are frequently recurring.Of course, Riddle knows that you always pay through card, but he honestly could not break way from his mental script that he practices daily with every customer.

You watch him fiddle with his fingers as the receipt prints.

“Thank you for your purchase,” he says.

You nod as you take the piece of paper, opting to sit at the table with barstools facing the counter rather than your usual nook by the window.

There is something really off about today. Today’s events move fluidly yet ever so slowly. It’s as if the universe let you finally catch your breath. Refreshing, but with this much time on your hands, your extensive list of cafe getaways could not keep up.

Your mind wandered over to a certain redhead barista. Ah.. perhaps he is the only thing particularly “normal” and “hustling” today. He wears the same expression whenever he brews a beverage– furrowed eyebrows and a slight lip bite. He seems out of place, like the kitchen is not a place where he would belong because he has never been in one.

With a clink of a teacup and silverware, Riddle makes his way towards you, firmly gripping the tray to the point where his knuckles are white. His smile seems a bit forced, but not because of irritation. It is because he is still flustered. He has developed a slight attachment to you– a miniscule infatuation that enhances his ability to notice every little thing about you which began with your very first order– the Rosé Latte. You didn’t even like coffee. He watches you from the counter as you gag, rushing to your side. He remembers it ever so clearly:

“Hey… are you alright?” he asks.

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry about it. I’m just not a coffee person is all,” you sigh.

“Then… why did you order a latte with coffee? I could have subbed it out with tea..” Riddle let the latter half trail off into thin air.

“Hmm… I wanted to see if I could find a lover here. If you had changed something, it probably wouldn’t have worked,” you admit.

“Did it really work?”

You jokingly scan the room: “I don’t think so.”

“Hold on for just one moment.”

“Hmm?”

A few minutes later, the redhead returns to your table with another cup in hand.

“Here. One Rosé Latte– the coffee subbed out for tea.”

“Oh you didn’t have to! I’ll just get it nex–”

“It’s on the house,” he huffed, extending his arm further so the beverage would be in such a close proximity that you could not possibly deny it.

“Alright, then. Thank you… ahhhh…”

“Riddle.”

“Thank you, Riddle.”

“My pleasure, (y/n).”

“Wait how did you know my name?”

“Your order? I-I’m not a stalker! I swear!”

“Pfttt. No worries.”

It has been a few weeks since that event has occurred. Riddle is still unsure as to why you opted for coffee since you detest the flavor.

Nearly every customer orders this drink. Riddle isn’t sure as to how the rumor spread, but it seems that the latte truly does make people fall in love. Even his colleagues have found their “soulmates” with a stroke of luck. Okay. He’s a tad envious of them whenever their beloved darlings waltz into the shop with heart eyes, going on and on about the serendipitous encounter. Their interactions cause his feelings of loneliness to swell. Okay, so maybe he is profoundly envious of his coworkers– more than he’s willing to admit, that is. But… perhaps there is some hope in you. Even you aren’t his soulmate or if these unknown feelings are unrequited, he’s content with your daily visit. Seeing you every day is a gift in itself. Seeing you twice today, and right before closing, must be a blessing.

“Your order, (y/n),” he prompts, setting down the tray and handing you the ceramic cup.

You perk up from your haze, taking in the floral scent of the herbal tea waft into your nose as you sigh.

“This is–”

“Rose tea with honey.”

You stare at him for a bit. Rose tea is your usual. The only difference is the addition of a sweetener. He truly did surprise you. Riddle is, and will always be, a by-the-book person. He cannot break away from “routine”. He stares back at you with an eager expression, determined to hear your response.

You take the cup, “Thank you, Riddle.”

“My pleasure,” he beams.

That smile-!! It melts your heart. As much as you hate to admit it, you find yourself coming back here routinely for this rose colored boy and his radiant smile. He is a person of very few words when handling customers. He’s actually full of them when it’s just you and him early in the morning. Now, Riddle is absolutely terrible at small talk, but he could talk about tarts and roses for an eternity. Conversations with him feel whole, complete... as if they are meant to be. Ahhhh, you did not like the sound of that– routine. However, you did take a liking to Riddle, the rather nitpicky yet timid barista who lives everyday of his life by a routine.

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt…

You take another sip of the tea then set the cup down, turning to Riddle who is still standing beside you, fidgeting with the tray.

“Say, Riddle, are you free this weekend?”

“I- Wha- I mean- Yes?”

“Would you like to go cafe-hopping with me?”

“Cafe-hopping?”

“It’s like going to several coffee shops consecutively in one day.”

“I would love to, (y/n),” he says softly.

Bonus:

“Is he aware that that person is his soulmate?” a boy with auburn hair asks huskily, adjusting himself so that his eyes met the bare surface of the cashier’s counter.

“Oi, Ace, stop being so rude. Riddle isn’t that dense! I’m sure they’re both aware!” a hushed whisper replies, shoving him aside so that he could also spy on his coworker.

“But look at him! He’s so nervous, stumbling over his words.. I’m getting secondhand chills… don’t you feel it too, Deuce?”

“Yeah, but he sat down with his soulmate and they look like they’re getting along well!”

“That’s because they’ve got heart eyes and saliva dripping out of their mouth from drooling over each other.”

“Well, I think that-”

Bonk!

“Shhhh! Ace, Deuce! He might hear you. You won’t be able to see tomorrow if he finds out that you’re eavesdropping,” another slightly older with auburn hair scolds nonchalantly as he kneels next to them.

“But did you really have to karate chop our heads, Cater?!” Ace hisses.

“Sorry, sorry,” he giggles.

“Cater, you were supposed to get them to go back to work,” yet another voice sighs.

“Ah, sorry, Trey! It was just so interesting. I couldn’t resist. Oh-! I have to get to a picture as a keepsake for Riddle.”

Before Trey could say: “Wait no-!”

Cater whips out his smartphone, snapping a picture.

“Hashtag: soulmates. Hashtag: Rosé-Café . Hashtag: Rosé-Latte. Hashtag: Go-get-’em-Riddle anddd posted!” he grins.

Trey shakes his head, crouching down to join his fellow baristas.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #event fic #cafe rose event #fave

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n0chanxes · 3 years

Text

What “Matching Effort; Not Length” Means in Collaborative Writing [to me]

[small edit- this post looks like garbage on dash apparently but the organizational formatting is visible on my page ;;;;; hellsite why- Click to my page for an actually legible post lol T^T ]

Hey yall, its 7 30 in the morning and I can’t sleep even though I work tonight so Imma ramble for like half an hour to see if that makes me tired sfkjsdfhdj

I’ve been doing this for a long time. Like-- half my life, 13 years [I’m 26], ‘long’ and over the years I’ve gotten relatively comfortable figuring out what things go into a thread being successful [i/e fun and easy to keep going] and not fun. This is all obviously my opinion as both a solo story writer, avid reader [i have more favourite books than I do friend irl] and rp’er. And though this obviously isn’t some snooty checklist or anything, I’ve found that people who use some or one or even all of these things in their replies are the rp partners I still adore making stories with years down the road

Replying with the world and not just the character

This can be done pretty easily in ‘script’ replies as well as ‘lit’/wordy replies, but I never approach a reply like what my character is saying or doing is happening in a vacuum, because that’s not organically how life works.

Are the characters in a busy café? Is there a long line? Is some asshole trying to cut which makes my character have to ask them to stop pushing around?

How about walking down the street? It the traffic horrible that day, making them have to speak louder/move closer to your muse? Did they almost fall into a puddle or run into somebody?

Oooor what about a night club? Is the music loud? Is the music shitty? Is it a little too crowded now even though it wasn’t like ten minutes ago, meaning our muses may want to move elsewhere

All this to say; think about your muses and people interacting in a space, not just two people talking/walking in a void.

Be comfortable with NPCs

There are a lot of humans on the planet! Like... a whole lot! Use them to buff up the story world you’re creating to make it more fun! This is also how I sometimes end up making a few of my favourite characters; they start out as NPCs to make my world more robust, and eventually I think up whole back stories for them [A good Example is Lux!]

Is that cafe owner making eyes at the other muse? Does that make your muse huffy and jealous? Or maybe that one dude who is still trying to cut in line gets a little too pushy and them and your muse have a little scuffle?

Is that a cute cat/dog? Sorry, gotta stop this very tense/flirty talk with your muse cus i have to pet this dog/cat.

Not only can these just be fun to picture, but a lotttt of character development can come from aspects of a world that aren’tt just because of muse A and muse b talking/thinking about each other, and can really buff up the foundation of whatever relationship muse and and muse b are developing whether its plotted or unplotted.

Be careful not to godmod- This isn’t nearly as much of an issue in this decade of rping as it was when I first started [it was bad lol] But just make sure these characters are feasible within a world. Don’t go and have muse a get randomly stabbed just because replies are hard to come by and you want to make muse b suddenly have to care about muse a. plot this shit out with your rp partner if you have even the smallest idea that some npc/event you have in mind might take away control/their right to control an event.

Reply to build off each other’s replies/characters; Not just to Reply. Give your partner’s character something to reply about.

I think , above most else, this can be the best or most frustrating part of an rp, and where I find I can lose interest in a thread or interaction. This is the most important thing I try to do, regardless of reply length or plot. This is what matched effort and not length means to me.

The most interesting aspect about rping to beings is being able to interact with them in real time, seeing this that its ever changing, real-time, and dynamic. If my character is stuttering a reply, eyes glancing every which way, sweating, but says everything is fine, getting a reply that doesn’t address any or the subtext or look to either amplify or fix a situation can be incredibly tiring.

Read a characters background/look for details in writing- Has ther other writer mentioned ther character has an interesting eye colour? Did the characters eye colour just change? Treat every reply as a chance to really build on something.

Did the character just say or do something that would logically result in some kind of shock/anger/attraction? Its okay to have your character shocked about things. Let them being an organic character/being.

Put equal effort in having interesting dialogue.-I can’t count the number of times on other blogs long ago [and long since dead] where I would give a few things in a script rp tp be interesting or cool to think on and reply about, things that were indicative to my character, only for literally all of it to be ignored in the next reply.

There aren’t many places for a story to go when two characters are just talking and walking together and nothing happens.

Stagnation is the antithesis of progress, very literally.

And if you see or a thread starting to become harder and harder to reply to, don’t be afraid to read through the thread and see if you notice a ‘drop’ or a place where you, your character, the world can add something which would be fun to reply to/react to/ imagine.

And for god’s sake, read a characters about/have some information about your character at hand.

I am.....long winded [shocker, I know] and I know words can be hard. But at my core, I want to rp with you [yes you] because I like how you words and I like how you write characters. It is incredibly hard for me to know if a story would be fun or interesting if there is nothing about a character other than their fc.

Have crucial information in about sections, make sure you know about the other characters crucial information, this can be some of the things that help a thread start off a lot easier. These can be bullet points! Cool hair colour? Eye colour? Long fangs when angy? long fangs and red eyes when BigAngy?? Ears? Tails???? Anything thatt a character would notice upin first glance needs to be made clear to your rp partner so they and their character can operate more naturally in whatever world you’re creating together.

If you don’t have official abouts, that is fine, just make sure you have any information about the character ready for sharing! I use the sticky notes desktop app for characters I haven’t officially added yet and its a super helpful, low maintenance way to keep details about a possible/selective character on hand.

Talk shit out. Embrace a shifting story, figure out plot points that would be cool to see and write about. Have fun. Create worlds, universes, new characters! As long as both/all parties are on the same page, there is literally no end to what you can create together.

All of this applies to lit/novella/and script rps! I’ve had some very, very cool, in depth script rps in my time/on discord/aim so length is not a factor to fun, deep rps, its all in the mutual effort placed in the characters and their world.

#okay thats all #for my three followers lmao #im gonna bake cookies now #cus its now 8 15 am and im still not ttired #god help me #also no i did not spell check this why do u ask lol #im gonna pin this #just cus it ttook me a while lol #my efforts #apparently this look like garbage on dash lmao nice #read it on my page it looks organized i promise ; ~ ; my efforts

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teatitty · 4 years

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Jailhouse Rock

A/N: Hey remember when I said I wanted to write a traditional fantasy AU with Patrochilles and DiarCu? This is based in that. I hate copy-pasting things to tumblr bc it never keeps my italics and I’m too lazy to edit this so here it is on AO3 as well

Days of peace were rare for Patroclus; even rarer still were the days without Achilles or Cu Chulainn around to stir up mischief. On his own, Patroclus liked to think he was a perfect example of good behaviour and that his own troublemaking was nothing more than a direct result of knowing two of the biggest arseholes this side of the continent, but whenever he voiced such a thing out loud, the response from his companions was always an intense roll of the eyes and a bark of laughter, so maybe he was just lying to himself.

Given his current predicament, that certainly seemed to be the case. In retrospect, he should’ve figured he’d end up getting arrested one of these days, but when you spend most of your time in the company of two people who somehow - consistently - manage to get themselves out of trouble, well, you sort of forget that consequences for your actions are a thing you need to worry about.

In his own defense, he hadn’t planned on getting arrested. It isn’t much of a defense, because he cannot recall a single person who has ever wanted to get thrown into a jail cell with shackles on their wrists (it didn’t matter that his own had been taken off earlier, it mattered that they’d bothered to put any on him in the first place), but he also hasn’t met every single person on the planet, so he supposes the defense counts for something.

He wonders who Achilles will be angrier at when he finds out about this; Patroclus, for punching the stupid fucking Guard in the face and breaking his pompous nose, or the Guard himself, for calling re-inforcements and manhandling Patroclus into this dingy, damp little cell. It’s not a matter of if Achilles will find out, so much as when he finds out, and Patroclus can only hope it’s soon, because he’s only been in here for a few hours and he’s already bored out of his god-damned mind.

The Guards posted outside of his cell won’t even talk to him. It’s extremely rude, in his opinion, not to entertain a guest when they’re groaning pitifully on the floor, even if said groaning was mostly due to the head pain. He really needs to learn the name of the Guard who clonked him. Bastard had a real mean arm and Patroclus itches to get some sort of revenge for the hit.

Alas, it doesn’t seem as though he’ll be getting that information anytime soon. He’ll just have to track the guy down once he gets sprung from this place and then clonk them from behind and see how they like it.

“You know,” he says conversationally, “if you ask me, I did you all a favour. I mean, he just has one of those voices, you know? The really annoying ones? The ones that just invite you to hit someone?” Nothing. Typical. Patroclus sighs up at the ceiling with exaggerated effort. “I love our little talks. Can’t get enough of them, truly.”

Maybe, if he talks long enough, one of them will actually tell him to shut up instead of just trying to glare holes into him through their helmets. Patroclus snorts at the thought. If that worked, then Achilles would’ve been dead a hundred times over by now. Or just covered in a lot more scars than he already has. Which is none. Obviously. Ugh, he really needs to get better company.

As if the Gods themselves heard his plea and were, for once in their lives, actually offering to help him, a commotion from the halls causes him to sit up with immense interest, and the Guards by his cell close their eyes and actually groan.

Whoever is being led - in chains? Sounds like it - down the hall, everyone clearly knows them, because even the other prisoners, who’ve been silent until now, start murmuring curses to themselves.

Finally, Patroclus thinks, some variety.

“ - I just think that in the grand scheme of things - and purely for everyone else’s interest, of course - that stealing a few rings from the locals isn’t that big of a deal when I’m just going to be selling them later. I’m helping the economy! Helping you pass money from one hand to another and get it circulating. How’s your wife, by the way, is she still getting the bad cramps? Of course she is. I can see it in your face. You really should take my advice and -”

“Diarmuid.” A Guard has never sounded so long-suffering before.

“Hm?”

“Shut up and get in the damn cell.”

Surprisingly enough, with a huge stroke of good fortune, the cell that this blessing in disguise - Diarmuid, his name is Diarmuid, Patroclus reminds himself. He’s never been very good at names - is dancing his way into, happens to be Patroclus’ very own, and he finds himself looking at a man who is decidedly, one hundred percent, not human at all.

Patroclus grins, absolutely delighted by this turn of events. Diarmuid, noticing that he is not alone in this cell, cocks his head to the side and just sort of. Stands there. Presumably blinking at him, but it’s hard to tell behind the tinted glasses perched on his nose. “Oh my gods,” Patroclus says before he can stop himself, “are you an elf?”

“No,” replies Diarmuid slowly. “But I can see why you’d think that.”

“He’s a menace,” one of the Guards mutters and Patroclus’ grin only widens.

“I knew you could talk,” he tells them and then to Diarmuid he says, “you have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get them to say something.”

“Oh,” Diarmuid says, “I’m not hallucinating then.”

“Not used to having company?”

“Not usually.”

He looks - well, if Patroclus had to hazard a guess, he’d say that Diarmuid looks completely out of his depth. “Don’t worry,” Patroclus tells him. “I don’t bite.” Which isn’t entirely a lie. He doesn’t bite usually but all bets are off when tavern brawls happen.

Diarmuid’s nose wrinkles. “Is that a hickey?”

It is, actually, though it’s a wonder he can see it at all amidst the other bruising. “I don’t bite,” Patroclus repeats, “but my boyfriend’s a bit of a dick.”

Something in Diarmuid’s posture relaxes at that admission, which is very interesting, and Patroclus pats the spot beside himself invitingly. He’s actually surprised when Diarmuid sits next to him. He’s less surprised that there’s an obvious gap being kept between them and that, unlike himself, Diarmuid’s posture remains straight and alert.

“Soooo…” Patroclus starts, “what are you in for?”

“That’s the best you could do, huh?”

Oh, a snarky one is he? Good thing Patroclus is used to that, or he might actually find this guy irritating. “What do you want me to start with, then? The fact that you’re apparently a regular visitor here? That you probably know everyone’s first names and family histories?”

“I wish he didn’t,” mutters the other Guard forlornly.

“Shut up,” hisses the first one, “don’t encourage them.”

“Too late for that,” they say in unison. The Guards curse.

There’s a long beat of silence as Patroclus waits to see if Diarmuid will reply to his earlier question. His patience pays off when, finally, Diarmuid sighs and says, “I got caught selling stolen goods for twice the profit.”

Patroclus whistles. “Impressive.” He means it. Sure, he got caught doing it, but the fact he had the balls to try at all - and, by the sounds of it, actually managed to make some of said profit - is worth applauding.

“And you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Broke someone’s nose.”

“Holy shit,” Diarmuid breathes, “you’re the guy who finally shut Claudius’ trap up?”

“His name is Claudius?” A nod. “No wonder he’s such a dick, then. Hey! Tell your boss that I don’t regret what I did, alright? With a name like that, he had it coming to him!”

“You’re going to get a longer sentence if you do that.” Diarmuid sounds amused as anything. Patroclus grins back at him. He wonders how long Diarmuid’s sentence is and how many times he’s gotten his way out of it.

“Nah,” he says. “I’ll be out by tomorrow.”

“Because of your boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

“Lucky,” Diarmuid whines. “I have to rely on my natural charm, and here you are getting Out Of Jail cards for free.”

They’re only ‘free’ if you don’t count the cost on Patroclus’ brain cell capacity, because for all that he loves Achilles with his entire soul, his boyfriend is, in fact, an idiot, and this has only seemed to get worse since they met Cu Chulainn a few years back. How does that saying go again? ‘Birds of a feather flock together?’

What does it say about him that he’s part of this flock? Nothing good, probably, so best not to think too much about it.

“Are you a vampire?”

“Okay, now you’re just naming every creature with pointy ears.”

Patroclus slumps down in his seat. “I don’t have much else to go on.” And it doesn’t look like Diarmuid is going to willingly give him any hints. “A dragonborn, maybe?”

Alright, maybe that one's a little bit of a deep cut, given how rare they are these days, but, hey, if he’s going for every race with pointed ears then…

“Also,” he continues, “you’re not a ‘creature’ you’re just a different race to a human.”

“Flattering,” Diarmuid says dryly. Patroclus doesn’t really get how any of that is ‘flattering’ in any way, shape or form but then what does he know? He’s human, after all, so maybe he really has just said something that - whatever. Doesn’t matter. He’s making friends! Cu will be so proud of him.

Does he have a concussion? Probably. None of his thoughts are making any sense today.

“I’m not a dragonborn.”

Okay, strike two off the list.

“Or a vampire.”

Strike three.

This would be so much easier if he wasn’t just relying on ‘ears pointy’ because that...really doesn’t narrow it down a whole lot. Are there really that many races with pointed ears? How has he never noticed this before? “You sure you’re not an elf? Or, like, elf adjacent?”

“If you were anyone else,” says Diarmuid, “I would’ve hit you for that. Luckily for you, I’m pretty sure you’re just a mouthy moron like I am, so congrats on saving your own skin, I guess.”

“It’s a gift,” he grins.

Diarmuid snorts. Progress is being made. Fuck yeah. “You’re not used to being in a cell, are you?”

Patroclus shrugs. “Not particularly.”

“First time?”

Oh now that’s just too easy a line to pass up. “Being in the company of a gorgeous man like yourself?” His lashes flutter and Diarmuid actually looks a little bit bewildered. “Hardly.”

“You...have a boyfriend.”

Astute of him.

“I do,” he agrees. “We have a comfortable and confident relationship.” By which he means that they’re allowed to flirt with whoever they want, whenever they want, it’s just dating and sex that are off limits until further discussion. Diarmuid - doesn’t really seem to get what he means. Which. Okay then. “Flirting is fine,” he clarifies with an easy tone.

“Oh.”

He still sounds a bit miffed by the whole thing so, in an effort to bring them back to their earlier comfort levels, Patroclus says, “lets play a game.”

Diarmuid stares at him. “A game,” he repeats.

“Just something to pass the time.”

“Am I going crazy or are you always like this?”

“It’s just me.” He feels no embarrassment in admitting it either. His mouth often moves faster than his brain can catch up, or his brain will move faster than his mouth, and rarely do they ever operate at the same capacity as each other. He forgets that not everyone can keep up with his rapid changes in conversation. Achilles’ mother is the only one who can understand him all of the time, but she’s back home in her river, so he has to - make an effort to slow down a little bit here.

How annoying.

“Ever heard of 21 Questions?”

The silence continues for long enough this time that Patroclus is almost completely certain he’s just gotten rejected. Diarmuid sighs. “Sure. I reserve the right to refuse answering anything personal, though.”

For all his earlier chatter, he’s surprisingly guarded and private. This, along with his keeping his own race a secret, intrigues Patroclus a lot more than it should. There’s a dull and distant warning bell ringing in his head; caution, it screeches, CAUTION.

“I reserve the same thing, then.”

Diarmuid blows some hair out of his face and, presumably, rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “I suppose,” he sighs dramatically. His lip twitches into a smile. Generously, Patroclus lets him go first. “What’s your name?”

He blinks, startled, and then laughs. “Oh I’m such an idiot,” he says and then holds out his hand. Diarmuid is wearing leather gloves under his shackles. Interesting. “It’s Patroclus. Pleasure to meet you.”

His grip is a little firmer than Patroclus expected but nowhere near the strength of Cu Chulainn’s. Which is a bit of an unfair comparison considering Cu’s specific bloodline but. Well. He doesn’t have a whole lot of non-human references to go on. Diarmuid holds himself as though he’s waiting to get shanked in the gut and Patroclus, ever so politely, asks, “what’s your favourite drink?”

Diarmuid blinks. “What?”

“Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, wagging his finger. “Not your turn to ask a question.”

“...tequila,” Diarmuid says at last.

“Oh that’s strong! I thought you might be an ale drinker, what with all the leathers and the -” he gestures to the window of the cell, hoping to encompass the city as a whole.

“Ah,” says Diarmuid. “Ale’s too bitter for me.”

“And tequila isn’t?”

His lip quirks. “Not your turn.”

“Right you are! Continue, then.”

“Who's your boyfriend?”

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Achilles.”

Diarmuid promptly chokes, as do the Guards outside. “You’re kidding. You don’t mean - you can’t mean -”

Patroclus inclines his head, delighted by the reaction. Achilles is famous here! Who knew!

“Holy shit.” Diarmuid’s voice raises a few octaves. “He’s going to kill me.”

“I doubt it,” says Patroclus dryly. “He’s more likely to whine about me getting better prison company than he did.”

“I’m not talking about Achilles,” hisses Diarmuid. “I’m talking about Cu Chulainn!”

Wait.

Wait a second.

Patroclus takes a step back to examine the man before him. Dark, curly hair? Check. A penchant for getting arrested? From what he can gather, check. Pointy ears? Absolutely. And -

He leans closer to try and get a whiff of whatever scent Diarmuid carries.

-- the distinct smell of a winter breeze.

A lot of different things fall into place at once.

“You’re the friend that Cu’s been looking for. The one that lost his favourite jacket.”

“I’m dead,” says Diarmuid. “I’ve been trying to get it back for him and now I’m going to die before I get the chance.”

“Is that why you were selling stolen goods?”

Reluctantly, Diarmuid nods. “I know where it is,” he admits mulishly. “I just don’t have the money to buy it back.”

Patroclus thinks this over. He doesn’t have any money either. Fuck it, he thinks, we’re already criminals anyway.

“Okay,” he says. “If you can get us out of here, I’ll help you get it back.”

“Don’t even try it,” warns Guard number one.

Diarmuid gives Patroclus a pathetically hopeful look. “You will?”

“Yes. On the condition,” he continues, “that you return it to him in person.”

“You know where he is.”

“I know where he is.”

Diarmuid considers this for all of two seconds. “Deal.”

And then he slips out of his shackles and shatters the fucking window with them.

#fate series #my writing #2.6K words of crack tbh #i dont know what this is please just take it

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wonderwomanfantasy · 4 years

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Singing confessions

I listened to a Stephine Maybe song while writing this and it made me cry so we going with that one chief. (song here)

Bakugou x reader

warnings: swearing, that's about it this is supper fluffy

word count: 1,300 (about)

summary: Even though you loved Bakugou you had never really considered confessing to him Until Mina gives you the perfect opportunity to do so.

Mina had been suggesting a talent show for months now, ever since you all moved into the dorms. She claimed that it was a good way to relieve stress and bound as classmates, but you knew that a talent show would be the only way she could ensure the whole class saw her crush a watermelon with her thighs all at once.

“Come on guys it would be so much fun!” she wailed over lunch one day. “And we all have a weekend off next week how often does that happen?”

“Who in class has a talent that they would want to share?” Kirishima asked through a mouth full of food.

“Lots of people, like you sing don’t you (y/n)?” she asked looking at you desperately. you flushed, You sang in the shower a little too loudly one time and Mina had yet to let you live it down.

“you sing?” Sero asked his eyes wide. “Are you any good?” Mina reached over and smacked him

“Yes, of course, she’s good! And you could show the whole class that if you just got on board with my Talent Show idea!” She screamed.

“Can you Dickheads shut up?” Bakugou shouted, Mina ignored him and went on yelling

“Jiro can play a song and I know for a fact Ojirou does magic tricks, that's a whole show right there!” She threw her hands up.

“Fine we’ll go but just to be in the audience,” Kaminari sighed.

“Fuck off I’m not going,” Bakugou snapped

“oh you’re going to be there and you’re going to like it,” Kirishima growled right back, honestly he was like a mom sometimes.

the next day mina had posted a signup sheet for the talent show. which was fine until you saw that she had filled your name in for you.

“don’t get mad!” Mina squeaked before you could even yell at her.

“Why am I here?” you snapped jabbing the list with your finger

“because- uh, this is your chance to perform the way you’ve always secretly wanted to?” she tried, you glared.

“tsh you actually signed up for that talent show thing?” Bakugou huffed making you jump. you hadn’t noticed he snuck up behind you.

“At least there will be one tolerable act during this shit show,” he said snarkily before turning on his heal and wondering away. your heart lurched in your chest. that was a compliment, from Bakugou of all people.

“So are you going to do the Talent show now that Loverboy is excited to see you?” Mina asked hopefully. you sighed

“Fine,” you sighed. Mina cheered and wrapped her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug. Mina was the only person who knew about your tiny crush on the explosive blonde, and so far she had done a pretty good job of keeping your secret.

“This is going to be great (y/n) So what song are you going to sing? a love song? cus if so-” She rambled

“why would I sing a love song?” you cut her off.

“Come one wouldn’t that be a romantic way to confess? a nice love song for lover boy?” She teased. you wanted to snap at her but she was right. you hated when she was right.

“I’ll figure something out,” you muttered noncommittally.

slowly but surely the signup sheet filled up with names and acts. you were surprised how many of your classmates had joined, and how many of them Mina had forced to join.

you were also surprised by how well Mina was able to set everything up. Rows of metal folding chairs faced a makeshift stage made of wooden crates and covered with black cloth to make it look clean.

“Are you sure this is safe?” you asked pressing on one of the boxes and listened to it groan.

“Probably,” she shrugged. “Now let's talk about the schedule one more time-”

“oh right-” you said cutting her off “-why the hell am I going first? I thought this whole thing was just a stunt for you?”

“Come on (y/n) we both know you won’t go on unless I force you so you go first I go second.” she explained cheerily.

as the seats filled one by one you slowly grew more nervous Bakugou was there slouched down in the very back. the fact that he was there made your stomach flip. you still couldn’t quite believe that Bakugou was excited to see you perform. you just hoped that you didn’t make an idiot of yourself.

“Okay (y/n) knock em dead, brake a leg, all that Jazz!” Mina squealed and shoved you onto the stage. you sighed and sat in the middle of the stage on the chair provided.

The track started to play behind you. you took a deap breath and began to sing

I take my notebook and tear the pages out To write down my thoughts in a message. Where I encrypt every line. As the people pass on the street below I smooth out and fold all the edges. Then hold them up against the sky

And I let em go Hope you'll find each word I wrote On these paper planes scattered in the air Oh, I send them off 'cause I know you're out there.

the room was noisy before but now it was silent except for the music and your own voice. it seemed like the entire class was captivated by the sad and sweet song.

And I picture you discovering Each note all the others step over 'Cause you're the kind who finds the clues And you'll know everyone was meant for you 'Cause you've got the secret decoder Oh, they'll lead you to me soon So I let em go Hope you'll find each word I wrote On these paper planes scattered in the air Oh, I send them off 'cause I know you're out there

you couldn’t really see the audience but you still looked for Bakugou, trying to see his reaction, but it wasn’t possible, so you turned your attention back to the song.

Oh, I know you'll see The heart beneath Each line you read

So I let em go Hope you'll find each word I wrote On these paper planes scattered in the air Oh, I send them off 'cause I know you're out there

the song ended and the music played out. your friends cheered and whooped as you sheepishly made your way of the stage you searched for an empty seat but it seemed like there was only one, right next to Bakugou, just your luck. you slid beside him with a small wave.

“you have a pretty voice he muttered his eyes fixed dead ahead.

“what?” you whispered whirling around to look at him. What was with him lately?

“What? I didn’t say anything,” he grumbled still not looking at you.

“well whoever told me I had a pretty voice is very sweet,” you muttered. His lip twitched up in a smirk.

“Did you write that yourself?” he whispered, his bright red eyes glancing over at you for the first time.

“yeah, Did you like it?”

“who was it about?” he asked dodging the question. you gulped, the song was actually about him, but you couldn’t tell him that.

“What makes you think it's about someone?” you gulped he leaned in making the hair rise on the back of your neck

“Can you cut the shit (y/n)? no one writes a song about finding their soulmate without having someone in mind,” he growled. there was a scream as chunks of watermelon flew into the crowd from Mina’s little stunt. you were distracted momentarily but Bakugou was quick to draw your attention back to him.

“So who is it?” he asked his eyes fixed on yours. your gut reaction was to deny everything, but you fought that urge back. If Mina were here you knew exactly what she would say. You’ve come so far you can’t back down now coward! Do it Now!

“You,”

#bakugou x reader #imagine bakugou #katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon #I'm really sorry for everything guys #i am dead inside recently #;-;

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onepdumpsterfire · 4 years

Text

Summary: Usopp moves to the city after a year since his mom died in a way to feel closer to her. There he looks for a roommate and finds none other than Zoro himself. what fate has in store for them is left for a later date lol

Roommates

Usopp . Zoro

It’s been almost a year since my mom died. She’s been sick for a long time, so I knew this was coming for some time now.

Even so, knowing didn’t stop it from hurting just as much.

Since her funeral, all I’ve done is coop myself up in our house. I’d probably turn into a hermit if it weren’t for my neighbor, Kaya. She came around whenever she had the chance.

That was nice of her considering what she has been going through…

But the more she worried about me, the guiltier I felt.

I know that she can't help but take care of people. Hell, It's why she’s been studying pharmaceutics, but I also know she can do so much more with her life. She could be some big-city doctor or researching to cure cancer!

Wouldn’t that be so much cooler than being stuck in a no-name city, too small to even afford more than the one clinic it has?

In any event, that’s only one of the reasons why I’ve decided to move away for a while. I think some time out of this house would do me some good.

The city that I’m moving to isn’t all that big and a bit further than I’d like it to be, but that’s the point of moving, right?

One way or another, I chose this city because my mom fell in love with it. She used to tell me about how, when she was young, she used to travel all over! She’d seen it all. Every tourist attraction and big-name city, but there was something about this city that just took her breath away. She told me that this place managed to calm her need to be constantly moving. This is also where she got pregnant with me then later she moved back to where she was raised and had me.

As much as she loved it there, she wanted me to go out on my own and find a place that would ‘sate my most wild urges and fuel my deepest desires,’ as cheese-ly as she put it.

At first, I thought she was joking.

I thought that she only liked that place because it’s where she met dad… It’s also why I hated this city.

My father was a coward that ran away as soon as my mom got sick. Though, she never blamed him for it. I never got to as her why, though. Years later, I did ask her if I was right. That she only romanticized this place because she fell in love there. However, she told me that he was only part of the reason why she loved this city so much, and that if I didn’t believe her then I should go find the depth of this city for myself.

I debated with myself for the longest time. Whether this was the right choice, or if I was ready to set foot in the place I used to loath so much. But being here now, I feel so much smaller than I thought I was. I’m nowhere near the heart of the city, but the sheer enormity for this place makes it feel like it’s trying to swallow me whole.

Sure, back home we had a lot of open fields and the horizon was always noticeable, but here the buildings towered over everything. It felt like a tsunami that threatened impact but never collided. The horizon was replaced by millions of stars that fell from the sky and sat just out of reach so that if you got too close thy’d turn into someone else’s day. Someone’s life.

There are so many people here that It almost made it feel lonely. Being surrounded by so many lives yet being so far from them. A mirage in a desert, one could call it. It promises life, but the closer you get the more you realize you could never get close enough.

I guess I was too much of a coward to be as alone as I felt when I first stepped foot here, though, I’ll keep telling myself it’s because the apartments here are too pricey and I only managed to land a job as a gas station attendant. Nevertheless now I’m sitting on the first floor of a fully furnished two-bedroom apartment checking a roommate wanted ad I posted earlier this week.

So far there have been only two people who wanted to move around this area, but one ghosted me after a few messages and the other ended up creeping me out so much that I had to report his account! I just hope the last person that answered my ad isn’t as much of a weirdo as the previous two.

They seem to be a bit curt, but I shouldn’t get too picky. Rent for next month is gonna be due soon, and there is barely anyone who wants to live near this area as is!

I’m sure that they’re nicer in person! I shouldn’t worry. It’s just two days.

Two days.

-2 days later. Thursday 2:30 pm -

When I arrive at the coffee shop, I walk straight to the back of the line. It isn’t that long and I’ve got here thirty minutes early, so I should have time for a drink before they get here.

Should I get something for them too? No, that’d be weird, and it would probably get cold by the time they get here.

The person in front of the line leaves and we all step forward.

Shit.

Someone arrives and lines up behind me.

I didn’t ask for their name! I don’t even know if they’re a boy or a girl!

The next person leaves and we take another step forward.

Is it too late to ask? Would it be weird if I did?

Another step forward

What if they’re a girl? Would they feel uncomfortable living with a guy?

“-ir?”

I did put on the ad I was a dude though…

“-cuse me, sir?”

“Huh?” The barista’s voice brings me back to earth. “Oh, sorry!”

“It’s okay!” her chipper voice rung out, “could you repeat your order? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“O-oh, sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk out loud. I was lost in thought, I guess... haha ...” I looked up to their hanging menu, more so to look away from her than to figure out what I wanted.

After putting in my order I take a seat at the very back.

Ten minutes later my drink was ready and my anxiety was rising again.

What if they don’t come?

Five minutes later and I sent them a message to let them know I’m here.

Maybe I could’ve phrased it better?

That sounded weird…?

God, is that a typo?

five minutes later

They haven’t answered, but that’s okay! It’s only been five minutes. Can’t expect them to be by their phone 24/7 right?

I’ll play some games on my phone to distract myself. Yeah, that’ll be fine. It’s fine.

I take a big gulp from my drink

I downloaded that new game. My hopes aren’t high for it, though. I found it via a random Facebook ad. Hopefully, it’s not one of those scams that say 90% of people can’t pass level five, but it’s only ‘cus no one lasts long enough to get to level five.

Hmmm… it seems plays well. A bit of a lag but the graphics are awesome! The old-style, pixelated art and bright, neon, solid colors give it a very retro vibe. The ads between levels kind of ruin the experience, though.

Guess they gotta make money somehow, right?

I wonder if they’ll go away if I turn off my data and Wi-Fi.

I shouldn’t just in case the person I’m meeting tries to reach me.

Could be fine for a round or two, though, I’d anxiously suffer through all of it.

I shouldn’t just in-

A sudden scraping sound from the chair opposite of me jolts me from my hypnotic state. “Hey,” a green-haired man in front of me mutteres before taking the seat he pulled out.

Taking in his form as he makes himself comfortable, my mind begins to race. Green dyed hair with roots of black hair showing. Fitted, sleeveless Nike shirt and black basketball shorts paired with a white pair of sneakers.

Oh, god. What’s with the green hair? He looks super buffed. Am I about to be mugged? No, that’s stupid. He wouldn’t have sat- in a cafe, really?

I quickly glance down at my phone for the time.

Exactly 3. Is he super punctual? More than likely a fluke, but impressive nonetheless. What if he’s a perfectionist?

My thoughts continue to swarm around my head, buzzing in an insatiable mob until a humming silence washes over me. Like one of those box televisions from back in the day. Not broadcasting anything in particular, stuck on a blue screen, droning on in silence.

The sudden stillness in my thoughts came so abruptly that it almost gave me whiplash. That aside, I need to focus now and answer him.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t ask for your name-” I left my statement open so that he could fill in the blank“-Zoro”

“R-right, Zoro. My name’s Usopp,” I waved my hands like the gesticulation would somehow help my words form into a coherent sentence, “but you probably already knew that from my ad... Hah..” I gave a quick huff before pushing through my awkward inexperience with ‘interviews’. “I was thinking we could talk and get to know each other before I take you to see the apartment.”

“That’s fine by me,” Zoro relaxed further in his seat. “What do you wanna know?”

Right at home, ain’t he.

~Do you smoke? “No”

~Are you a messy person? “I don't have a lot of things other than clothes.”

Doesn't quite answer the question but ill take it.

~Do you have friends over often? “No”

~What do you do for a living? “I’m a bouncer at a bar near here.”

Explains the muscle.

~Can you pay rent on time? “Yes, actually I brought the first month’s with me. Your ad said that split cost between the both of us plus the utilities would be $487 right?” Zoro dug around his pocket before pulling out a folded wad of cash and handing it to me.

“U-uh yeah,” tentatively I reach over to take the money. “Yeah...” I doubt I can find someone else by the end of the month. Zoro’s my safest bet at getting a roommate before next rent's due. He doesn’t seem so bad, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.

...I guess this means there’s only one more question to ask.

“Do you wanna see the apartment?”

#modernlivingau #one piece #one piece zoro #Pirate Hunter Zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece usopp #god usopp #one piece kaya

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roonil-wazlib-at-221b · 5 years

Text

Don’t You Believe Me?

Request: Could you write a klaus imagine where it’s a couple years post-canon. the reader has been pining for him for ages but swallows it cus they don’t believe he returns their feelings. when he tells them that he loves them they’re just like “lmao sure” cus all of their friends and partners have left them and no one has ever loved them enough to stay so they don’t believe him. They aren’t like sad about it either, just resigned and making light of it to deal with how much it hurts to not be wanted.

Pairing: Klaus x Reader (Oneshot)

“He’s probably lying, though,” you mutter to yourself, chewing on your thumbnail as you pace around your small room, bare feet sinking into Emily’s plush carpet with every step. Your phone is in your hand, screen glowing as it displays the nine-word text that’s causing you so much anxiety. When the screen dims, you tap it again. You just need to look at the text in order to get a feel for it.

“What does he have to gain from lying to you?” your roommate, Emily, asks from where she’s laying on her stomach on her bed. Her hair is curled perfectly and her clothes are fashionable and look cute. You don’t know how she does it. You always look terrible no matter how hard you try and your hair can’t hold a curl to save your life. It’s especially impressive considering how just yesterday she’d been bawling her eyes out.

“He could humiliate me!” you exclaim, your voice loud. Someone in the hall down yells to shut up, which in turn makes other people yell at them, until everyone’s yelling and then it lapses into stony, brooding silence. You hiss, “He could be saying it to stand me up or something!”

“Y/N, we’re not in middle school anymore,” Emily responds. “Trust me, no one’s going to be putting in this much effort in order to stand you up.”

“I don’t know,” you say, your phone screen dimming once more. You tap the screen and accidentally on the new message, which means now Charles will be able to see that you’ve opened up the text. “Shit!” You drop your phone like a hot potato. The offending text glares up at you: You know, you’re actually rly cute. Wanna meet up?

“Haven’t you guys been talking for, like, weeks?” Emily asks, blowing a large bubble and sending her friend a SnapChat. “Yeah, trust me, guys like that lose interest after three days on average.” She should know; she did an actual study on the habits of boys and girls when talking to people on instant messaging, and if the male isn’t interested he apparently gives up after three days. You guess she hadn’t studied how many guys cheat on their girlfriends or she wouldn’t have started dating her boyfriend, but she hardly looks worse for the wear.

“What about the outliers?” you ask miserably. Charles is active on Instagram right now, which means he’s probably waiting for your response. He’s seen that you’ve seen it. He might be getting annoyed that you’re taking too long. He might be laughing with his friends about how they’re guessing you’re freaking out.

“The most extreme outlier was a week, Y/N,” Emily says not-so-patiently. She’s normally pretty good at handling you when you’re like this, but recently she found out her boyfriend’s been cheating on her, and she had to pull an allnighter last night to study for her Calculus quiz. Now she’s plotting her revenge on the cheating Michael. “Trust me. Nobody even finds that all that entertaining, anyway. You’re not going to get stood up.”

Your phone screen hasn’t even turned off before you decide, “No, I’m canceling it. Nope. Nope. I’m blocking him.”

“Y/N!” Emily jerks her head up to look at you, brown eyes widening with horror, but you’ve already done it. Her voice is surprisingly shrill when she exclaims againn, “Y/N!”

“Shut up!” somebody yells again, followed by multiple people shushing them.

“Oh, jeez,” you say, your hands shaking as you shove your phone in your pocket. “Nope, nope, nope. Did not like that.”

“You’re pathetic,” Emily sighs, shaking her head. “He was cute. He seemed sweet. You’re just being crazy.”

“I’m sorry, are you standing up for boys in general now?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips. “Last time I checked, your boyfriend’s a douche.”

“First of all, no, I wasn’t talking about all boys, just Charles. He seemed nice. Second of all,” Emily glares at you, “low blow, dude.”

“Sorry,” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. “I’m just… not good at this.”

“You just need to get over him,” Emily says, standing up. She puts a perfectly manicured hand on your arm and crinkles her brow at you. “Trust me. Pining over Klaus for eternity isn’t going to make you feel any better. Rebound dudes are the absolute best to date, because everything they do feels so crazy amazing!” She’s already got her rebound dude from Michael picked out.

“I know,” you insist, folding your arms. “I’m getting over him. It’s just… I had a bad feeling about Charles,” you invent wildly.

Emily crosses her arms and raises one skeptical eyebrow. “Mmm-hmm, sure.”

“What about you?” you ask, sitting down heavily on your bed and wiping your phone screen on your jean pants. “What are you thinking for Michael?”

“Honestly, I was thinking about cutting three inches off my hair and posting a selfie with the caption ‘Not gonna miss those three inches, Mike’.” Emily flips her hair over her shoulder and sends another photo to a friend. “What do you think?”

You laugh. “That sounds really funny. I’ll be the first to like it.”

“Honestly, now I think about it, why’d I stay with a guy that barely hits four inches?” she muses, tapping her chin with her pointer finger.

“I believe I asked you that when you started dating him,” you mutter. “And you responded that he was sweet.”

“Character is out,” Emily decides. “The length of the dick is all that matters now, as long as he’s not a total asshole and, like, a wifebeater.”

“As you do,” you nod.

It was the whole ‘your boyfriend’s a douche’ comment, you’re sure of it.

Emily has moved out of the room you shared together.

It’s not like you weren’t expecting it, either; since when has anyone ever wanted anything to do with you? Your own parents abandoned you and when you tried to track them down, they had another little girl and were not interested in talking to you. The rare times you’ve gotten a boyfriend he’d dumped you quickly, unable to handle your fears of abandonment.

Even the goddamn cat you adopted from the shelter ran away.

So no. You’re the opposite of a magnet. Nobody ever wants to be with you. They don’t even want to be in the same room as you.

Your phone buzzes. It’s Klaus Hargreeves, your oldest friend, and you’re trying to calculate how long it’ll be until he leaves you too. Everyone else has. It’s only a matter of time.

Klaus: Hey, Y/N, wanna come over? I’ve got a surprise for you!

Honestly, you’re surprised he’s texted you. He hasn’t in the last three days, which frankly isn’t very unusual for him, but your anxieties are in overdrive and have been since coming home and seeing the ‘Goodbye’ note on the door.

‘Y/N, I’m going to be living with some other friends for the rest of the semester.’

Translation: I’m finally ditching you for my better friends.

‘No hard feelings, right?’

Translation: I’m trying to be as polite as possible, don’t get mad at me for ditching you, you loser.

‘I’ll still see you around!’

Translation: But only in passing; don’t try to talk to me in public.

‘—Emily’

Translation: You were super fucking annoying. Thank God I’m out.

Within seconds, you text Klaus back, saying, What time? And what sort of surprise?

You good to come over like rn?

You don’t have any other classes for the rest of the day, and though you have an essay to write, you can do it when you come home later or tomorrow.

Yeah, sure, I’m on my way, you text back and slip on a pair of shoes before hurrying out the door. On the bright side, you won’t be able to get into any loud conversations and get yelled at anymore. You’re pretty sure the rest of the hall hates you and Emily for occasionally shrieking the most.

Come to my bedroom when you get here ;), Klaus sends you, and you have to stifle a grin. Maybe his teasing is what made you fall for him initially, and the way he’s so carefree. It hurts a little bit, though, whenever he makes a joke about being with you. You know you’re not even an option, but still.

Like Emily had said. You need to get over Klaus. Maybe you should have told him you had to write the essay, but…

It’s too late now for that. Plus, Klaus may get annoyed if you cancel plans with him and not want to hang out with you later on.

The Umbrella Academy mansion is quiet when you push open the doors. Grace must be cleaning elsewhere, and Pogo must be doing… whatever Pogo does when he’s not taking care of the kids. You barely even notice your extravagant surroundings anymore; far too used to them after visiting Klaus whenever you’re worried he’s OD’d on drugs or whenever he’s a little less high and wants to hang out.

Nothing’s changed when you see Klaus’s room. Well, things have definitely changed; there are balloons around the doorway like he’s celebrating something, but that’s just Klaus fashion. For all you know, he could be celebrating something—maybe this is his anniversary of getting addicted to drugs or something like that. Something like that would kill you a little bit to see happen, as it would kill all his siblings, but Klaus is just like that.

And you really do love him.

You push open the door cautiously, half-expecting him to throw something at you as a prank, but all that greets you is Klaus standing in the middle of his room, exclaiming happily upon seeing you.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You can’t respond. You have to take it all in for a second.

For one thing, his curtains aren’t drawn for once to keep the sun from hurting his hangover headache. For another thing, he’s shaved and cut his hair a little bit. The last thing that really stands out to you is that he’s wearing color. In all your life, you’ve never seen Klaus wear any color apart from that pink feather boa, but he’s wearing a tie-dye tank top and loose green cargo pants.

You laugh a little hesitantly, stepping into the room and looking around. He’s certainly seemed to embrace the color; confetti’s everywhere. “What’s going on, Klaus?”

“I’m sober,” he beams, holding up his arms. “Ta-da!”

You’re speechless.

“I know it’s taken me a long time,” he continues, “and I’m really glad you’ve helped me through all the years. But I’m sober and I’m planning on staying sober for the rest of my life. Ben’s helping me realize that I can’t just drink away my problems, you know?”

“Are you serious?” you manage to squeak out.

Klaus nods.

You squeal and launch yourself across the room, latching onto Klaus like a koala. “Klaus, I cannot believe it! Why didn’t you tell me you were getting sober?”

“I didn’t wanna let you down if I couldn’t,” he mutters, squeezing you so tightly you can’t breathe for a second. “And I was planning something.”

“What?” You pull away from him, already regretting the hug because it just made you love being in his arms more. Spending time with somebody probably isn’t the best way to get over them.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, but I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to until I was sober.” Klaus sits down on his bed, pulling you down with him, and looks in your eyes seriously. It’s unnerving. You’ve never really seen Klaus serious. “Y/N…” He swallows. “Please don’t say anything until I’m done, okay? I just need to get something off my chest.”

You nod. Oh God, is he going to tell me he’s murdered someone? Can you honestly keep a secret like that for him? You nod, squeezing his hands tightly.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you for a long time,” he says, blushing a bit but refusing to look away from you. “I wanted to get sober for you. I want to have a future with you. You’re my best friend and you make me laugh. You’re supportive and kind. I know that people have left you before, but I promise I won’t. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but if you do…” He squeezes your hands for a second. “I’d love to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You want to vomit.

He’s really making fun of you in this way? When he knows how sensitive you are about being abandoned? When he’s probably the only person who knows about your parents and relationship struggles throughout your life?

You swallow around a lump in your throat and croak out a laugh. “Ha, good one, Klaus.” You stand up, avoiding his eyes. “I’m happy you’re sober, though.” You start to turn away, saying, “I have an essay to—”

Klaus grabs your hand gently and spins you around. “Y/N, I’m not making fun of you. I really do love you.”

“Yep, mmhmm, sure,” you say, nodding too quickly, clenching your jaw too tightly. “I know. I’m sorry; I’m not really in the mood for jokes right now; I’m stressed out about this essay that’s due—”

“Y/N, don’t you believe me?” Klaus asks, staring at you. He’d honestly not expected it to go like this—he’s sober; isn’t life supposed to start going right?

You wrench your arm out of his grip. “Sorry, Klaus, I really have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“No, you won’t,” Klaus mutters as you escape the room. He’d imagined that going in a million different ways except that one. “Shit!”

“Go chase after her,” Ben instructs. “We both knew she wouldn’t believe you. At first.”

Umbrella Academy Taglist:

@fentanvl @deathswretch @lightningidiot @five-hg @iamsnek666@ameliatrh @ihatecheesyusernames @dora-the-grownup @emilyt0314 @idklol707

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes

Guys, take a look at the prompt list on my page—I’d love to take requests for them; it’ll be fun writing practice!

#tua #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #klaus x reader #reader x klaus #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus #number four #reader insert #reader x klaus hargreeves

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indomitablemegnolia · 5 years

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It was edging onto the noon hour, eleven-thirty-six am to be exact, but you couldn’t tell by the light of the sun; Gods, it was as if Fenrir the wolf had jumped out of a Norse legend into the sky to swallow the sun; I had already been at the airport for five and a half hours; my red eye was cancelled, and I had been bounced from gate to gate to gate, to wait to wait to wait, only to be told nothing was happening; they always stressed the word yet, but what they really meant was, ever. It was really not a huge surprise, I had watched the weather report while listening to my neighbor get lucky; the animal noises and obvious gymnastics required to make such a ruckus would have left me exhausted for weeks, but here they go again, well, at least someone is getting some. I was surprised there wasn’t cracks and holes in which to watch in that shoddy, tiny, airport motel room, just barely a step above an S.R.O., but it was a bed and damn I was tired this was a trip doomed from the word go, giving me little glimpses of the movie ‘Fight Club’ after the first hour of meetings, suddenly I was Jack’s complete lack of surprise. My agenda, my plan… my hope, now dead, dead as dreams, it began full of such potential; that was zapped away within seconds, so why should it end any easier, really? What did I expect traveling to a place called Port Chester, New York? God, it sounds like the setting for a soap opera, but truly, in retrospect more like an episode of supernatural, including a vengeful spirit.

Speaking of vengeful spirits, the dark icy clouds encased the airport in a swaddle of gloom, like the foreboding storm from poltergeist; anyone who can read the sky could see that the weather was only going to get worse. Those dark clouds only served as an ominous warning, a foreboding that should have come as a warning, or possibly in the form of a question. getting blacker, rain already turning to solid ice as it fell from the heavens; Shangri-La this was not, it had congealed into a complete and total ice storm. Usually, storms brought a certain sort of odd comfort to me, though today, not so much; most likely due to the fact I was so far from my home; as if cued perfectly on time the song ‘Can’t find my way home’ played in my ears. I choked on my snarky laugh as I trudged to my next expected gate, lamenting the fact that I felt nine hundred and ninety years old today. No matter what direction I looked I saw that long dark sky had the look of hard wet sleeting ice in the nearness of the future. I wish I was home with a tall cuppa joe and a nice big book on my lap, with some good soft music cuddling me under a heavy blanket. Turning the corner that I wish could have been to my kitchen with its pretty little red potholders. I stop short, before me sat the largest conglomeration of unhappy people I ever remember encountering, all of them choosing seats at or near the ticket agents booth; the far wall and its bank of windows showing a clear view of a very Poe dark and dreary as well as the show inside, was beautifully vacant. I walk amongst the revelers, noticing the complete discontent on every face I passed.

Oh, the universe had such a sense of humour, didn’t it? I shake my head, suddenly I felt I needed a drink; nah, maybe I just needed a lot of life insurance; god, I knew I needed a vacation; or maybe I needed a home in the country; or more than likely a full once over by a qualified psychiatrist; though mostly I needed to figure out where this Phillip Marlow-esque monologue was coming from, but on second thought that drink sounded lovely. I snickered to myself, the morning I was leaving Mom and I sat at the kitchen table, enjoying our morning coffee, or so I had thought; as with all morning rituals there was a vast amount of time allotted for silent contemplation staring into that vast unknown.

“What’s wrong?” Mom had asked, worry evident on her face.

Taken aback, I snickered, possibly the coldest most patronizing snicker I had ever snickered; as if the woes of the world and the things that weighed on my mind could be delineated down to utterable words, instead of answering I shrugged, “nothing really, why?” I tried to sound light and unbothered.

Mom huffed, “I don’t know, you look like something is bothering you,” she took a huffing breath, “actually you look like you are seriously contemplating smoking or becoming an alcoholic.”

Damn, she just dropped that in my lap, I laughed a real laugh, “It’s not that it hasn’t crossed my mind,” I took a drag, “To tell you, yes, of late I have partaken of much more libation than I ever have before, but you know exactly how limp my lungs are, too limp for smoking and I don’t quite have the intestinal fortitude to become a full-fledged alcoholic, I think you actually need a stomach to tie a good one on. So, no worries mom, it is just the world today and the way it’s working that just bugs the hell out of me.” Good god, am I that easy to read? Good times, right? “I am just tired of the feeling of a nine thousand gorilla standing on my neck.”

She reached over patting my hand… Ah, mom she always had the ability to knock me sideways, but then make it all ok. I pulled my fakieciggy out, (an e-cigarette that had long since been empty of all nicotine, but still had the light flavour of vanilla; hell, it lights up; the motion alone was as satisfying in form and function. Taking the time to sigh, reset my Qi, was enough, really, just an idiosyncratic mnemonic device.) put it to my lips and took a long drag; “Freaking bat country.” I mumbled under my breath, batting at the invisible bats, wishing to hell I had my flask, but there was no way I was going to try to take that through TSA, hell they were already way too frisky for my tastes. Really, I am a two-date minimum to get to second base kind of girl; who the hell was I kidding, my threshold was much wider for the whole idea of bases, I really was tempted to yell, RAPE! So, I had to make due with what I had. What I had was a coat, a hat, and a gun; oh, god I wish; what I really had was a headache, my huge black messenger bag, my oversized dark purple purse that served as a computer bag, my WWI aviator cap, a Pea coat and my knee-length waterproof leather boots. I saw a seat near the window, with a perfect reflection of the passersby, so, I pulled my sweater sleeves up over my elbow and went out to stake my claim, sadly sober as a judge.

Taking a people watching post, sitting in the fourth seat in, perching on the edge of the chair, I push my messenger bag and purse under my chair, lay my coat across my lap, leaning my shoulder into the back of the chair, I watch. I watched the rapacious soul eating mob move and ebb and flow as they would. Rock Hudson and Doris Day style husbands and wives in deep serious whispered fights, staring daggers at each other; a Calvin and Hobbes, pair of college students mumbling amongst themselves whether or not they had asked anyone to feed their bong water fish, which I highly doubted that the fish was ever alive; Mothers with children looking like the perfect advertisement for birth control, faces bleak, eyes sallow, looking at the world with a ‘someone kill me now’ appeal, my heart ached for them. Then like a ray of light a tiny toddling head went past, not screaming, not crying, he toddled on, chasing a large red and white ball. His tresses shorn close on the sides, the middle left long, his tiny Native American feet trotting to a mix of a babies walk and a fancy dance in his borrowed handmade mucklucks, like a Sherman Alexie character brought to life; he chased that ball, hunkering in the fashion that only a beautiful child can, accidentally nudging the ball, chasing and hunkering again. His simple, beautiful, innocence was unmistakable, I wish I could capture that image to hold on to forever, but like anything and everything miraculous, possibly once in a life time, it could only be seen, witnessed, never captured for reproduction, no picture can be taken, no beckoning for others to see. I watched him play, until mom noticed how far he had traveled, she motioned for him to come back, with a shriek of a laugh he finally captured the ball, it balanced awkward in his tiny hands as he scampered back to mom, I reveled in his beauty for as long as I could.

A shadow passed, a series of people walked into my vision, I watched a very rich woman, head to toe designer gear; from diamonds to Manolo’s, the cheapest thing on her could have been the down payment on a home, basically Marie Antionette circa 2017. I don’t know why, but I liked her, she was blonde; in fact, she was a blonde, to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window, you know the type, beautiful, petite with a touch of sad, the kind you know any of fifty men would commit a felony for, start a war for, but she was not the kind that could eat people alive, her money was new and she wore it like a crown. Sadly, there she was trying almost desperately to gain the attention of her Louis XIV, his must be very new money, there is a comfort that comes from old money that he utterly lacks, with old money there is nothing really to prove; this man wore his wealth, including his wife, as if it were a status symbol requirement, his BMW keyring dangling from his Burberry coat pocket, his hands soft, totally without callouses, nails perfectly manicured, his hair coiffed with gallons of product; by all counts he was a useless man. Despite Marie’s attempts for his attention, it was focused like a laser on his newest game, he chased a bedazzlingly big busted, slim-fit skirt, again you know the type all tits and flash. I saw Drusilla, Louis’s game, meet his chase; she was also blonde, not nearly as pretty; she reeked of five thousand an ounce perfume, cheap sex in a motel room, and cigarettes, it all came along with a none too subtle ‘I would suck your dick just to kill time’ look about her, but her attitude left way too much to be desired. She must have felt my eyes watching them, she gave me a look which ought to have stuck at least four inches out of my back. I watched the movements of these people, friends worse than enemies; lovers as adversaries; families at war and at peace; and lonesome strangers all lost in this Dante’s inferno morass, helpless, stuck, stranded. In this place, full of people there was only about a handful of humans. Poor Marie, she doesn’t know that down mean streets, on these streets a person must travel; a human who is not themselves mean, but can be; who must be neither tarnished nor afraid; they must be the hero in this story. She must have been looking for a man whose lips tasted of faerie tales, and mistook the frog for the prince. Oh, but she is a peach, there may yet be hope for her, they walked on. Then as ships pass in the distance my eyes moved from them to another.

This other; this long, tall, dark cloud drifted past stealing my vision; he was head and shoulders taller than Louis; he walked to the agent desk, handing the agent his ticket, there was something about him that usurped every atom of air around me. His dark licorice coloured, supple leather jacket hugged him tightly, dark wash jeans detailed the rest, tight enough to highlight the merchandise, but loose enough to leave bits and pieces for the imagination; Goddamn, taking in the entirety of his goliath frame was breathtaking, my god, he was lovely. The desk agent said something and motioned for him to find a seat; he spun deliciously on his heel, with ceremonious attitude reserved for royalty; he walked away, sliding his sunglasses down to rest on his nose. He moved like water, luscious, cool, delicious water flowing over smooth stones; I literally leaned foreword and watched that walk, it was magnificent. God, he was about as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food cake; no reverse that he was the angel wings on devil’s food; he was like a prowling lone wolf looking… for what? I am not sure, but the way he moved over the crowd, not through it, it was almost enrapturing. I mean, look at me, I was amongst these adders, trying to make my presence small, wanting literally to disappear, but I felt their lies and hate sticking to me like hot molasses, but him, he, seemed to be coated with a repellent, a Teflon, not a thing stuck to him.

He was as honest as you can expect a man to be in this world where it was going fast out of style. Not only did he move above them and through them without a spot of tarnish, he walked with that sultry panache. He was a complete man, very complete, my eyes slid to the lightly bagging rear pockets; they showed enough definition, but not the detail; good god I can’t believe my mind went there; he was a common man, although, there was not a thing common about him, he was as unusual a man as could ever be found. He, to use a rather weathered phrase, an unutterable phrase, was a man of honor. Possibly, by a natural instinct, look at those shoulders he could support the world; maybe by inevitability, by the sheer thought that someone had to be so he was more than happy to pick up the mantle, without thought of it, and certainly without ever saying it; or maybe he wasn’t, I was none too sure about my instincts these days. Oh, but the delicious stride of his foot sure and while in his gaze no man faltered, even Louis straightened his head when this wolf was on prowl. He seemed a man whose story was a manly adventure in search of a hidden truth, oh and goddam by the looks of him he was fit for adventure; oh, to be part of that adventure. Christ, my mind and oddly enough my body reacted to the idea of what kinds of adventure he would be up for. It would be no adventure if it did not happen to a man fit for adventure, and I have had enough of those not fit for adventure. If there were enough like him, the world would be a very safe place to live in, without becoming too dull to be worth living in… he was the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world; he would be something of a marvel in every world. No, no, he probably wasn’t, look at me running wild with a though; he was probably just a man who dressed a part, stuck in an airport, with a walk… I let him slowly move from my sight, he was already driving me to distraction.

I look out on the desolate grey landscape, the ice creeping up the window panes; maybe it was Marie, maybe it was that godly walk, maybe I was in mourning for the loss of his visage or just the self-destructive nature of the human condition, but it was something that not even those chubby little hands clutching at that giant rubble ball could chase away; I don’t know what or why, and frankly I don’t really care, it just was; I suddenly feel ages, years heaping onto my shoulders. To lean heavily of Dickens, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, mostly it was just times; really it always does seem like we are on the edge of evolutions end; though always like on the TV shows the countdown stops at 1, although this time is feels to be on negative numbers. I remember not too long ago, it seemed we were in an age of wisdom of invention and growth; now it is an age of foolishness, it is the epoch of disbelief, it is the epoch of incredulity; I miss the season of Light, for this is a damn season of Darkness, from which it seems there will never again be a spring, no hope, it is a winter of discontent, of despair. I remember the last day when we still had everything before us, though now in retrospect we really had nothing before us, we thought we were all going directly to heaven or maybe we were already there, we are all actually in a freefall directly the other way. I look at my world and succumb to the dark, dreary letting the weary days soak my soul. The world floods my brain, once upon a time not actually all that long ago.

Oh, it was the leanest of times, those times where those I love sat before my eyes and macabrely joke about which of us will be the first we all should eat; obviously my brother as his meat would be soft and sweet and succulent; you know, those jokes that bring a forced laugh, for fear that if we didn’t laugh we would have to run in terror from the reality of these thoughts; in those horror times we were packing, cleaning, locking away the remnants of a fantasy, a dream that we held in our hands while it died a cold and horrible death. An ancient card from the times when we were convinced it couldn’t be worse than that but we knew that if we just hang on one more day… the card fell from our hands and fell open; springing from this card comes the vivacious voice of one Gloria Gaynor; Our hips lost the battle of staying locked, tears began to fall as our lungs let free a laugh that was not at all forced; that was the moment that pedantic break up song from the bygone disco era became our salvation and a battle cry to send Schrodinger back into the shadows. From there light began to shine and there was air to breathe, but again Fate slammed that door. DAMN HER AND HOPE

There no such thing as beauty anymore, all colours fade from vivid to dead gray. It really is an amazing thing when you think you have reached that horrible craggy earthen bottom, Hope, the vicious bitch that she is, shows you exactly how wrong you can be. For a second I reach back in memory to long ago, remembering giggles and birthdays and handmade cakes with half the necessary fixings. I let myself float, a few weeks ago, in that warm pool of possibility, red wines flavour haunting my taste buds. Gods, she showed me a brief glimpse of lovely, of that haven, I actually, almost felt that sun on my face. I still almost feel that smile on my face, doused in tears. Ice cracked in my chest at the memory of that instant my heart had defrosted. I knew better, I fought, I tried to resist, I didn’t believe, but then I wanted to, I needed to, then I did… We drove for hours, maybe it was days, time begins to lose its continuity when the radio is playing great music really loud, sunglasses fitting just perfectly and the speedometer reads 85 mph steady and true. There is something about it that made my heartbeat strong and true. We laughed and sang along, and it was the first time since I can’t really remember when that mom smiled, she laughed, without letting that haunted look come back to her eyes.

We would stop for burgers and laugh about something from eons ago. Then we’d hop right back into the car and drive; my foot getting heavier as we went. I don’t know what we were running from, or maybe running to, or maybe just it was the idea of the freedom that neither of us thought about a damn thing… yeah. All I really knew it was no stop until… it felt right. So, we drove and we drove, miles ticking off the rented odometer; states flying by, for once we weren’t simply standing in one place, trying to make traction on a treadmill, for years we were running at full bore and never getting anywhere, literally, figuratively, however the hell you want to say. Philosophers and scientists like speaking of continuity, but those who are stuck in the spin cycle, too close to the damn agitator, pieces of life, of spirit, of heart, of dreams, of happiness, being mangled, breaking off falling to the ground. Then one day I stopped, I just stopped running; my soul too tired to continue, I stopped. I stopped trying to make everything fine, everyone happy I understood finally that I was on a fool’s errand. I took mom’s hand in mine and she stopped running too, we stooped to pick up the broken scattered pieces, but fate showed us that it was like trying to grab on to Jell-O with your hands and hold tight. So, we let them drop, leaving them to wait for the chalk outline of their tragic death.

The Pacific came into view over the rural cattle covered hills, the radio suddenly silenced. My eyes misted over and I turned on the wipers as the chill October rain drizzled from the heavens. I take that right and head north on HWY 1 knowing where we were going. Childhood memories haunted behind unshed tears, living has taken on a new definition in the dozen years since last, I smelled that organic salty home. I would stop and relive bowls of chowder and giggling splashing icy surf on naked tender feet, but now, it showed in stark relief to what living now meant, those laughing giggles echoing in our hearts. My hand dropped from the gear shift and mom laced her fingers through mine, we took a moment to mourn this breathing cadaver we had become. I pull over and park, it took a hot second before I grabbed my small bag from the back seat, I clamber out, walking around I helped mom from the car. Walking as quickly as tear filled eyes and our beleaguered bodies would allow us, we made our way to the beach; and we sit listening to the surf, dropping my bag off my shoulder and we walk down to an old drift log. I made sure mom was comfortable, stepping out of my sneakers and socks using only my feet I walked to the rushing surf. I stooped pulling my pant legs up as the waves began licking at my toes. The oceans icy tongue sliding softly over my skin. I wanted to keep walking, walking till It was over my head, but I stood still when the waves kissed up my legs to behind my knees. I breathe letting my eyes roll closed, the wind ran its fingers through my hair as it kissed my face. Mom is suddenly there, holding my hand, both of us knee deep in the surf, we giggle and smile at each other as if we were children with a secret, oh and that secret…

I turn from the wind’s loving kisses, mom’s hand snaking into mine; we stood LIVING, for these seconds we lived; we walk hand in hand back to that driftwood stump, mom sits, I pull out the bottle of red wine from my bag, pulled the cork and took a long drink. Passing the bottle to mom; I noticed that those unshed tears were no longer abiding behind their dam. I don’t know when they had started sliding down my face, but I look a damn state now. Mom passes the bottle back and I take a long drink, looking up at that dark gray cloudy sky. I know it should have looked sad, foreboding even dower, but to me, it looked like a hug from an old friend. The crash roared so loud I couldn’t hear my own breath. It was perfect, the screaming person who has been occupying my mind suddenly shut up and I could breathe.

At its most benevolent this life has, one sweet single unattended moment, set aside for each of us. One single moment in and out of time. We took this moment, this little heaven inside this Dante’s nightmare we have called living, we take our little moment out of time and we take a shelter in it. Stealing away from all the shocks are horrors that this too long, far, far, too long life is heir to. This definition of living and its toll that it has taken on our souls. Our distraction fit, and I watch as we both take a deep breath and bury our toes in the cool sand like an oyster taking shelter. We close our eyes, breathe deep, we became high on this freedom, away we float. Beauty like lost dust moat in a shaft of sunlight, wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightning in the snow, or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply so intense that it is not heard at all, that fabulous unsound, but while that glorious music lasts.

Oh, and while it lasts.

One by one I watched those sorrows, the angst and pain the uncertainty melt from our shoulders, the time to hesitate is through, and sometimes the best fight is not fighting at all. I look to mom and pass the bottle, and we speak in silent words, we always knew that the possibility of an impossible fight would come, though yet I would glove up and take my hits, but it would be a heartless battle; all of my hits soulless. There is a freedom in acceptance; as a song says, freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose; the knowledge that losing a bout isn’t everything, but we both knew we were going to lose this one would take everything from both of us. There was a release; we both felt it, we collapsed into it, death would come and we would fall into his arms. Her eyes lead me, in their depths in a moment of ecstatic joy, with no expectations, not from THIS ONE MOMENT. A beautiful, simple moment of being.

No wants, no needs no worries. God, mom had always made broken look beautiful, strong look invincible; She walked with the gorgeous universe on her shoulders. When she shrugged that heaped heaven gracefully, making that pain and strife look like wings. In this moment of communion between us. That toll was gone, peace found us as we held hands like always. mother and daughter and we wanted nothing more than this peace. We took it, we loved it. Yes, we both knew this was just our moment and the treatments and pain would return and lost, lonely, broken, we would have to drive back home… eventually. Though, in that long stretched moment, we were infinite… Mom corked the bottle and we walked carefully back to the car, we got in again and I drove for more and more hours finally finding a beautiful hidden paradise amongst the redwood trees.

The bed, it was comfortable, lovely and clean, luxurious and the room had an eighth story window seat that still didn’t look down on those trees. We sat in the early morning feeling the air, smelling of earthy redwoods, kiss our skin and our lips with warm, delicious, coffee. The water from the tap tasted sweet and fresh, like a childhood memory poured from a second or even third-hand crystal pitcher. Late morning, the bathtub was large and deep. This was a paradise, this heaven was perfect, as if god understood that I had just acquiesced to his summons and decided to send me an extended heaven, or possibly on that curving mountain road I had missed a turn and we had both passed those pearly gates… In this paradise, there was a grand restaurant that required reservations. We ordered three rounds of drinks called the golden eagle, that tasted like buttered sunshine with a citrus hint and a float of Chambord. I ordered the lobster and she the steak, sharing the asparagus and potatoes…everything was perfect. We laughed and walked the long way around and danced and smiled at the smell of the beautiful trees. We walked among the ancients and there is something to be said for being less than drunk, more than lucid and still infinite among the kings of the Earth.

A tiny pearl of a treasure I tuck into that little box lined with black velvet that I keep all my most precious things of beautiful in. Stupidly I believed, stupidly I let the want the will pull my hand out… Ages told me that it was a mistake, that hope would be the thing that kills me, but I let my hand reach out, I almost touched it, but then there was nothing; now I lay bleeding out. Nothing, but air that my fingers slid through and I fell, I fell a million miles. One shining second in horror years, I trusted that idea of hope, the bitch, and now one eon wiser I woke this morning my eyes rioting at the idea of waking to this world, my brain screaming its recalcitrance at the idea of still dragging air into my lungs and begrudging the world for letting the sun to continue shining. I will never again trust to hope, I can never lift my eyes from the motion of my feet in this broken trudge, all marching to that horrible monotone beat because the living will never come to any good.

A buzzing distracts my mind from this drudgery and I look at my stupid phone. A text from my momma: “Happy Birthday Angel, text me when you are on your way or if you will be on your way. I hope you are wearing your smile and your lipstick, you never know who will fall in love with you today.” An ironic chuckle escaped my throat and a wry smile pulled the corners of my lips. In 37 years, no one had ever fallen in love with my damn lipstick or smile for that matter, I doubted today was any different today from any other day. Although, yes, I had put on my lipstick before departing for the airport today… dumb ass. Suddenly, the landscape was replaced by the rushing crowds passing behind me, superimposed, reflected on the glass in vivid colour. Oh, and the din of the people began to enter and drive away my own private hell; I let the relief wash over me. There was an odd surety to the idea that life goes on, it goes on whether or not one would wants it to; I started watching the people, along with the storm raging outside the windows, but the activity made my mind move from that cold place. I felt like an idiot to let myself bask in that much self-pity.

A gust of air hit me as someone sits a few seats down, I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t take the time to look, I would be leaving this section soon anyways, as soon as they tell us all that there will be no motion. It is the real human smiles in trouble, gathers strength from distress, grows brave by reflection. My brain reeled, shook from my own morass by a simple stupid misquote. Jesus, apparently, this birthday is getting to me; I know so many try to convince that it is not the aging that bothers them, but for me it is truth; oh, the passing of time, when I start counting is like a pall on my soul, but to just despise it would be terribly ungrateful, to hate adding to the tally of years lived when one is already well and past expectations. I don’t care what number of years I have lived, I really don’t mind the few hairs on my head that have transitioned from this dullard nondescript brown to a tinsel silver, the crinkles next to my eyes are every one of my laughs counted out for me. I do mind, however, is that so much time keeps passing, days mark themselves in memory and unwanted thoughts surface, I mind marking how much I haven’t done. I do mind is that not once has this journey been anything other than an upward climb, fingers gripping, bleeding, over the roughest terrain. I decided, enough pain… I was never one to just revel in misery, I am not the kind of woman who breaks into pieces under the blows of abandonment and absence, I am not the one who goes mad, who dies; though I know I will, possibly quite soon. Unlike Marie, I know I am the hero of this story, it is my responsibility to make it good. Surveying myself I saw that the few fragments that had splintered off were pieces that always are supposed to be sloughed due to living and learning. For the rest, I was… well, I was, just me. I was whole, whole I would remain. Thusly being stuck in an airport for a birthday is just one of those things that just happen, and yes, mostly to me.

Their reflections, with the gales of wind blowing ice and snow pelting the large bank of windows. Ah, its time to face the truth, nothing will be flying in this mess; hell, the smart people stayed home and didn’t even bother. I sigh, I never could have been accused of being one of the smart people, I watch the strangers pass behind me, all of them seemingly stressed and kinetic, like little white rats in a closed maze; frantic to get to where they were going, none willing to admit that no one was going anywhere anytime soon. I scanned all he miserable faces, yes, we are all in a way trapped, foreword motion was impossible, but always there is someone who seems to take it so much worse than everyone else, making that small claustrophobic feeling a teensy bit worse. Most just accept that, yes, in this world not much seems to go the way we all plan, there is always that one total jerk who thinks that god and all that’s holy and unholy alike should bow to his will. With that thought my mind decided to switch to the politics network; I literally shuddered, became nauseous and pulled it back front and center.

This jerk yelled and bellowed as I watched apparently, the Scandinavian Bruce Willis had decided that handing a helpless gate agent her own head on a platter was the best use of his time. He was demanding everything under the sun. From the loud whining and bluster, I gathered that he was supposed to be traveling to Maui, but he wasn’t going to be there in time and would lose the large deposit he placed on his room, most likely a common hazard for travel like that. As if that was anything the gate agent could do anything about, it was really his own stupid gullibility. Yes, I would much rather be in Maui too, in fact I think the ticket agent wishes she was in Maui with a Chi-Chi in hand, but its not where we are, nor where I was traveling to. Finally, the mans blustering hit a fevered pitch, his face turned purple, I thought he was about to stroke out, but his wife finally stepped in. I had already lost interest in the whole show about half a tirade ago, he was an overgrown child with the stupid notion that the world owed him something.

I shake my head softly and roll my eyes, a soft, rolling, deep chuckle moves through my ears, and movement catches my eye. I let my eyes be pulled expecting to see disapproval in the reflected face. I all saw was a man; my breath shuddered, not just a man, but that man, the wolf with the godly walk, that gust of air was him sitting, that man. Well, honestly simply man is an insufficient term, but one I would use for the long-legged monolith a few chairs to my right. He seemed to be elsewhere, with more than a single dose of “I don’t give a shit” attitude, all I could see was crossed arms and Ray Bans, so I let my eyes peruse. He was long, tall, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, those legs alone reached at least 5 foot from the edge of the chair. He was thick; legs like tree trunks, but his shoulders alone took the space of two seats. I pitied the person who was seated next to him, hopefully, he wasn’t the middle seat, talk about crowding. He wore a thin, white tee shirt, dark washed jeans. I let the smile pull the edge of my lips, apparently, he didn’t look at the weather before heading out today, poor fool. He sat trying to tuck his thick licorice coloured leather around himself tighter.

His opaque dark Ray-bans hid most of his face, ear buds tucked into his ears. His thick brows curved gracefully over the rims, his lips beautifully arched with a light pout to his bottom lip, a set of the most beautifully kissable lips to possibly exist. A day’s growth of scruff along his gorgeously chiseled jaw, god he was a beautiful man. He couldn’t have been reacting to my derision, maybe he was chuckling at something on his earbuds. So, I swallowed my ruffled feathers and I just enjoyed the view of the reflection. His dark brown hair, blonde and ginger highlights deliciously sparkled, in what was once a deliciously close cut style, now grown out two months too long; the length silky enough to run soft fingers through, letting the long ends curl around fingertips.

I settle back, catching little glimpses, filing his form away for something fun in one of my writing exercises, I watched the ice creep along the glass of the window and the passing of the people while listening to my own ear buds, hitting repeat on some riotous punk. Social Distortion peps me up, I feel the beautiful sweeping warmth of eyes on me, I look up all I can see is the dyspeptic travelers and the airline ticket agents looking as if people had taken bats to them, circulating handing out food and hotel vouchers to make up for the surprise ice storm. Curiosity draws my eyes back to his mostly obscured face, I wonder what colour his eyes are; statistically, they were most likely brown, but something told me they were some beautiful exotic colour. Seriously, look at the man, he is something made of myth and mists, he could never actually be real, like a unicorn or the truth. As with everything, the gods compensate, a man that graceful, that beautiful, with that luscious of a walk, there really must be something maybe just some single thing wrong with him, somewhere. Maybe he has a temper or maybe he is just stupid. A loud cacophony of uproarious yelling, uh oh, the natives are getting restless.

God, how the hell do they expect airlines to circumvent nature and still get them to their destination safely, you know they would be the first filing suit in the case of an accident, and seriously how the hell an ICE storm can be so surprising, but low and behold, here we all are stuck. I tuck my vouchers in my book and keep watching the people reflected in the window, like an interactive ultra-widescreen TV. A Latin woman reminding me heavily of Anne Bancroft goes huffing by consigning herself with a beautiful grace to the fate we all in the airport now share, a night at the on a crummy airport motel mattress and airport food. Again, that warm pass of eyes, perusing the faces, I assume it’s just another people watcher or a passerby. A move in my peripheral vision drew my eye back to him; dammit girl, the cardinal rule of people watching is NO STARING, I chided myself.

@pedeka @writernotwaiting @iamhisgloriouspurpose

@keeper0fthestars @sweetfairy1

@fromthedeskoftheraven @shikin83 @bilbo-baggins-middle-finger

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flamebrain · 5 years

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mattfoggy hcs, straight from the bastard empire sorry these all read like shitepostes(L O N G post under cut you’ve been warned)

WTNV au:

nightvale is just populated by like. vigilantes and other poewered people and foggy shoes up one day like. hey anyone need a lawyer? and the whole town falls in love w him

MURDERDOCK IS KEVIN

matt does radio and talks about foggys perfect hair and perfect teeth and foggy calls in like "heh, thanks dude, but aren't you like blind?" and matt shuts the call off immediatley

everybody knows matt is daredevil because he makes wink wink nudge nudge comments about it like 'ah. it appears that an entity has appeared near the dog park. castle appears to be on the scene now, and...ok, he's got a gun. i cant do anything about that, but my pal (noises of him scrambling and obviously knocking things over) daredevil might be able OKHERESTHEWEATHER" and it cuts off and like. he shows up 5 seconds later to kick frank in the face for using lethal measures AGAIN

EVERY TIME IT CUTS TO THE WEATHER AND THEN CUS BACK AND THE PROBLEM HAS BEEN SOLVED ITS JUST MATT. like. breathing just a little heavier than normal into the mic like. 'so it appears uh. the issue has been resolved thanks again to daredevil and his pal moon knight. such a shame i had to cower under my desk while the weather was on. ok goodnight'

the funky thing abt nightvale in this au is that it's basically just like. new york from 616 but foggy's like. from our earth so he's like HWAT THE FUCK AND AHIT IS GOING ON IN HERE ON THIS DAY AND WHY CANT I LEAVE he gets kidnapped by super villains on like his second day in town and immediatley regrets every life choice he's ever made

matt works at nightvale radio by day and conviently cuts to the weather every time something comes up so sometimes there's like. 7 half hour weather broadcasts a day and the townspeople just. humor him

foggy falls in love with matt after figuring out after .5 seconds that he's daredevil and he saved him from a bunch of baddies on like his second day and matt compliments him on the radio like every day and yeah they're fuckin good ok assorted stupid college hcs: matt and foggy like to chill in each other's beds. foggy doesn't notice that often because matt moves back b4 he gets back and matt pretends not to notice but like. he can smell foggy was there. foggy. stop napping in this bed you're making my sheets smell like you, foggy, i KNOW they're silk and i know you think you're getting away with it but you're NOT,

matt, coming back into the dorm after being out for the day: foggy are you laying on my bed foggy, sitting up straight: nah pal. just sitting on the end for a minute hehe. just had to rest the old joints matt, knowing DAMN well that he was lying down a second ago and he's obviously lying but not being able to say anything; haha ok. move

hrnnn matt knows foggy is gay long before he tells him because he catches him in a lie about who he was out with but he can't say anything and like. he knows foggy is scared to tell him but he doesn't know how to bring it up and he's like. i want him to know he can trust me but i don't know how to tell him i know please foggy

foggys heart goes a mile a minute anytime the subject of being gay comes up around matt and matt wants to yell at him that it's OK and he doesn't care but his hints that he's fine with it seem to fly right over foggys head and so one day he gets so fed up with trying to convince foggy he's chill with gay people he just kisses him. wig

hrnnn. matt doesn't like the snow because it messes with his senses and he can't see but he can't say that to foggy so he just says he doesn't like the cold and foggys like "yeah doofus you weigh like three pounds you're skin and bone compared to me smh" and insists on cuddling him every time he sees matt get like That bc he thinks he's just chilly and it's. oddly comforting to matt because yeah. nobody really Holds him like that, and he Is Cold, and foggy is Warm,

matt gets Very touchey around people he's close with and so when he gets close with foggy he puts his arm around him a lot, rests his head on his shoulder, holds his arm even when they're not going anywhere, etc. foggys heart speeds up every time but matt just assumes that's what people hearts do when that happens because he doesn't really do that with anyone else and hey, he's happy when he does it and his heart maybe spikes a little too, but then he gets someone else's arm to lead him when foggys sick one week and their heart stays the exact same, what's up with that? so then he starts paying attention to all the people on campus, and the touching doesn't usually make the hearts go wild, but, well. matt 'sees' it happens and he's like HaHa, See, This is A Thing, and then he realizes that the people that have it happen to them? they're couples. and he just. freezes because first of all, Foggy- and at him- an- and second, his heart ALSO does a thing, so-

heres a rEALLY stupid unrelated au/hc i got after hearing a friends disater story hfdjhskja matt goes on a blind (hehe) date with a girl and it's pretty much a disaster, it turns out she brought her friend who is also meeting a guy at the same place, and like. she's obviously incredibly wack she says blind people are god's mistake and stupid shit like that so matt gets up halfway through their meal to go sit in the bathroom for 20 minutes while he thinks of an excuse to leave? and eventually a guy comes in and he's like 'uh hey, dude, you in here? your date grabbed her friend and left so we're both dateless now, thats a relief for me and unless you're just having incredibly bad bowel movements i think it's pobably one for you since you Have been in here for like half an hour uh im foggy by the way' and then they go back out and sit together and talk about how wack that fuckin was and like. inadvertent date

hey i can talk a lot of shit about how matt falls asleep on foggy but. sometimes foggy falls asleep on or next to or with matt and matt goes !!!! and he does not move and then he eventually falls asleep with foggy head on his shoulder and his head on foggys and when FOGGY wakes up and realizes matts still there and is ALSO asleep he doesn't move and eventually falls back asleep and then it's just like. waiting until the time aligns that they're both awake at the same time because neither wants to move and wake the other send tweet

SOULMATE AU:

foggy looks up from his college bed, sees matt, and suddenly EVERYTHING is fucking rainbow and he's like 'oh fuck. oh shit. wait. this is a dude' and matt's like 'is everything ok my guy?' because foggy's like. >:O and of course he has no idea because he's blind but foggy doesnt realise this and for a hot minute he;s like "OH FUCK. ITS ONE OF THOSE RARE OCASIONS WHERE HES PERFECT FOR ME BUT I'M NOT FOR HIM," and is about to s o b before he's like wait a fucking minute

yknow the au where like. the first words you hear from your soulmate are marked on your skin at birth? foggy's are 'excuse me', absolutley common, a chance meeting, and he stops jumping every single time he hears them after age 8 when he realises just how many times that phrase is said. matt's are 'yeah, who're you looking for,' but he doesnt remember that, there's no constant reminder of it since he's blind, the nuns wouldn't tell him, the kids made up childish shit like 'poopoo', and stick DEFINITLEY wouldnt fucking tell him because hes stick and hes an asshead and eventually matt stops asking and caring. it takes WEEKS for after they meet for foggy to ask matt about his words and matt just says 'oh yeah, i dont remember. here" and shows foggy and when he sees them he's like. 'hm. sounds familiar' and forgets about it untill like two years later theyre drunk and talking about the first time they met and matt's like 'yeah you asked like 'who'm i looking for and then panicked because i was blind' and foggy's brain just like. short circuits for a whole ass minute and then when it clicks he just goes. "yOU"

TRANS MATT:

matt realises when he's still in the orphanage that mayhaps he hates being not a dude and haha! hes not gonna fucking come out to catholics he knows about That. he tries to tell stick, around the time their closest, and FUCK STICK he refuses to call him anything else or support him becaise stick is a peace of fuck shit FUCK STICK so that scars matt from coming out for a DAMN while so like. when he goes to college he introduces himself to everyone as matt and emails his proffesors like. 'hello please my name is redacted on your forms please call me matt its uh. a nickname' and he's not like. out to anyone but matt is close enought to his deadname that most people don't question it. foggy does, though, a little while after they meet, and matt is so fed up with not telling people and being called the wrong pronouns he just goes 'i want to be a guy ok' and goes absolutley APESHIT when foggy's like 'oh, cool. do you want me to use he pronouns for you' because wait. people are...ok sometimes? and matt's like. about to cry

alternatley: matt says "I don't wanna be a girl." and foggy goes "oh hey are you trans? same hat!" and then foggy tells matt like. binding tips and shit and theyre Good ok

deadpool kills transphobes, sm n dd just fucking beat the SHIT out of them in a back alley and like. they let DP know where they are but whatever happens happens :D

elektra, impaling two transphobes onto the side of a building with her knives: matthew, i know you can hear me, why

one day elektra sees matt has dumped a guy on her roof and just. sighs and goes back inside and matt waits for like 15 minutes before halfheartedly picking up the dude and dropping him off at franks.

matt dropped them off at nats One Time and she went apeshit and hunted down like 20 more of them.

foggy, holding a bat: cmon matt let me kill ONE matt: 'fine but if you get caught im not going to be your lawyer.'

INTO THE DEVILVERSE AU:

earth 14512/TRN700 (peni parker’s universe) matt murdock has a robot seeing eye dog who's also a vigilante

hddjdsjdhdn they all show up to earth 6's foggy and he just. sighs and all the devils start crying because He Is Here

hmm ok. canonically we know nothing about miles's matt but we know he exists and is known figure because miles knows of him but doesn't know he's daredevil i'm Prefty Sure so like. i'm gonna say he's just a successful lawyer who has radarsense but never got yoinked away from the orphanage by stick and never got training so like. hemndhdjsjnow the QUESTION is who finds that matt because there's a Very Different outcome depending on if like. murderdock meets him first or the matt from hobopeters universe does

hmm. murderdock comes in first like gwen does but doesn't out himself as competent w like swords and shit. but he OH HES THE OPPOSING FORCE FOR UH A COURT CASE MATT IS IN AND MATT HAS NO IFEA HOW SIMILAR THEY LOOK BECAUSE HES BLIND HRNNNNNHSHDHDHDJ and then matt from HP's universe comes in like HEY YOURE ME RIGHT. what the FUCK i need the laws in this dimension STAT and murderdock ':"sees" him and is like ah fuck. my goose may be uhhh cooked

ok mileses matt is like 'so what brought y'all here??? hhh???? and murderdock sighs and goes well my boss who's not really my boss from MY universe is doing something stupid here and opened a dimensional portal and it could maybe tear the multiverse apart which i guess i'm not stoked about' and matt's like 'who's your boss?' and murderdock begrudgingly says 'wilson fisk' and matt immediatley goes >:O because he's CONSTANTLY defending people who were injured as a result of what fisk and his company do

anyways. matt immediatley rushes to foggys because "foggys my partner, he's helped me deal with fisk, he knows him, he can help," and he swings open the door and like. one of two things happens actually either A: foggy is like matt. MAATT. AHAT IS GOING ON WH. WHY IS THERE A TALKING DEER WEARNING SPANDEX WHO CLIMBED THROIGH MY WINDOW MATT PLEASE HE SAYS HES Y O U or like. matt walks in and deerdevil is playing pattycake with robodog and daredevil noir is incessantly flirting with foggy and when matt comes in foggys like 'hey. i don't know what's going on but i think i'm trading my best friend'

murderdock is like...the cool college student who tells freshies about weed murderdock: so, you don't know how to fight right matt: no??? i'm blind??? md: but you can kinda see right. matt: yeah like a radar kinda md: normal blind people can't do that you know matt: they wHAT md: you can listen to heartbeats if you try hard enough. you can tell when people are lying matt: i can W H A T md: yeah. what me to teach you how to kill a man matt: W H AT NO IM A L A W Y E R WH

hrnnn the matts in this universe push our matt away to stay with foggy because he doesn't deserve 2 die and you KNOW every matt pushes people away but foggy is like. matt i know you tried it's ok i lov you buddy and he's like HRGGHHHH FUNCK YOU and makes foggy tell him stories untill he can distinguish lies and hide in a place around their office untill matt can like. find him instantly and training montage shit you feel me and he rolls up to the collider in his black pjs like "hello my fellow devil men. i hear you all have no plan. well. i don't either but i'm here" and one matt is like. how did you go-OH YOU DID IT and all the mats high five and cry a littlethey're still reluctant to let matt come help but they're all like. "we're all depressed and suicidal anyways we all have big guilt and if we didn't let him i lnOW he's gonna have big guilt forever he can stay"

THE PENUMBRA PODCAST AU:

foggy is a private eye, kinda depressed a lil bit, and he works w his secretary karen who helps him with tech and stuff because he is god awful at all that

"mike whatevermaggiesmaidennameis" is an occult specialist from dark matters agency assigned by an agent natasha of dark matters to help him with his current case.

foggy does NOT want to do this with any damn occultist or whatever the hell but before he can escape mike shows up and god DAMN is he charming and catches him before he can climb out the window, so. that's that for introductions. anyways, hijinks, elektra is cassandra, if you care listen to the murderous mask, anyhoo foggy stars to notice something is kinda weird about matt but brushes it off. they finish investigating and retrieve an important artifact.

it's cold, mike says. sorry dude, all the places near here are closed, foggy says. is your place? mike asks. oh, says foggy they go back to foggys place and maybe make out a little bit, but foggy realizes oh shit, mike just tried to steal the keys to my safe where i stored the artifact, shit, and plaxces him under arrest before he can do anything, and calls the cop cops.

they come to take mike away, and minutes later foggy finds a note, scrawled INCREDIVLY messily, in his pocket. "sorry," it says, "i wasn't tricking you about anything i said, and i meant everything i did. -matt murdock ps. check around, say, X avenue. you may have to do a bit of cleanup." when foggy checks cameras that overview there, he find the officers that took murdock from his apartment hogtied together, and sees their clothes strewn on the ground - forming letters - with love. their car is gone. PODCAST AU:

matt listens to podcasts a lot right and so foggy is like hmm mayhaps this is a good idea. but the type of podcasts they listen to differs so incredibly like matt listens to serial and the wildest one he listens to is probably judge john hodgman whereas foggy listens to shitpost podcasts like mbmbam and can i pet your dog foggy keeps referencing mbmbam around matt because he just assumes that he listens to it and matt is so confused every time and one day foggy says "damn matt you're really horny for this one huh" and matt just snaps and says FOGGY WHAT DO YOU M E AN

so then they are like oh shit you're not listening to the good ones. no YOURE not listening to the good ones. solution? listen together which means sharing earbuds which means sitting next to eachother on small college bed which means????? cuddling

also eventually they decide fuck it. let's make our own podcast and they combine the mbmbam and jjh format so they get questions and do goofs and stuff and then give actual legal advice but sometimes foggy will be like "ok. here's what you do. you need a cat? go into the pet shelter and take one. what are the gonna do beat you up with their cat toys? didn't think so." and matt starts crying because "Fo g g y WE ARE LAWYERS I KNOW YOURE GOOFING BUT THATS ILLEGAL FOGGY YOI CANT TELL OUR LISTENERS TO GO DO CRIME"

COFFE SHOP AU:

matt has a caffeine addiction and constantly comes to foggys coffee shop and orders one black coffee every morning and foggy eventually is like. hey buddy. do you EVER drink ANYTHING F U N EVER

matts like...no...i need coffee as strong and dark as my soul... and foggys like ok edglelord. wait up i'm about to change your life

foggy makes him a latte that's just a little bit caramelly but not too sweet and he's like here. drink this. no charge you deserve to live a little. also here's your boring edgy coffee you still have to pay me for that one. matt tries it and he's like hmm. not bad, but just not. Good and foggy is like wow fuck you. i'm going to find a good drink for you that isn't this hell water so every morning matt comes in and foggy gives him a black coffee and a free Fun and Cool coffee on the house

matt always is polite even when foggy can tell he DESPISES what foggy made but he's not going to stop untill he finds something god damn it matt

ok anyways they start meeting up more. matt starts taking his breaks in the coffee shop and and foggy hmmm...always seems to have a shift off when matt comes down..hmm. coincidence....hmmm....theo suffers for him by covering all his shifts when matt comes in and he's like well, actually fuck work

eventually foggy is like hey dude. do you wanna test my drinks before they go on the menu or help me perfect my recipes and shit you have a good toungie right (matt goes apeshit, because fuckin FOGGY YOU CABT SAY THAT) but he's like haha yeah. that'd be fun. haha

and then foggy finds out matt is INCREDIBLE at baking when he hands him a cookie and matt goes. hmm. too much flour add a fourth a cup less and a pinch more of saltand he's like??? bitch. i'd like to see you do better. and then matt does

so basically every day foggy closes up a little earlier and lets matt in and they dick around in the kitchen and bake and make coffee and foggys shop gets more and more popular because hey this already really good joint just started selling the most BALLER carrot cAke waht the fucké

anyways fall comes around and foggy is like GUES WHATT ITS TIME FOR WHITE GIRL DRINKS TRY THIS and he gives matt a pumpkin spice latte and matt is like. •.• THIS IS IT. THATS THE ONE

and foggy starts crying MATT PLEASE YOU HAVE TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME. PKEASE MATT, MATT I CANT ADD PSL YEARROUND BECAUSS YOURE A BASIC WHITE BITCH MATT

he bullies foggy into keeping the latte on the menu by threatening to stop helping him bake and foggy is SO OFFENDED, on behalf of good taste everywhere, matt, please,

anyways foggy continues rags on matt for only liking the shittiest fucking drink god damn it matthew fucking hell i make you 3 billion and THIS is the one you pick you disaster and matt is like haha shut up. stoopid

foggy doesn't, and you can guess where this be headed because i'm gay and soft,

matt kisses him and foggys like. ?????????? and matt goes AH FUCK. I COULDNT THINK OF A BETTER WAY TO GET YOU TO SHUT YOUR MOUTH SORRY. GUESS ILL GO and foggy throws cookie dough at him and drags him back over because he's not leaving fuck that. fuck you. and then they're happy and domestic the end

wait i lied matt opens a pro-bono firm in the back of foggy's shop and he gives all his clients freshly baked dessert and coffee and he's so good at being a lawyer and foggy becomes so good @ running his shop that customers keep coming and they're the Cute Gay Couple everyone knows abt and loves

ACCIDENTAL (?) KISSING:

SO. there are so many god damn moments foggy nearly fucking breaks and smooches matt out of sheer unbridled uwu soft feelings. SO MANY. when they win their first mock trial together and matt looks so FUCKING happy and he tells foggy how good they work as a team and foggy is about to lose his mind but he just goes. 'haha yeah' and gives matt a fist bump they finish taking the bar: matt's had to take it in a seperate room, stupid blind accommodations. he finishes first because OF COURSE HE DOES HE'S MATT MURDOCK and the second foggy finishes and leaves the room he sees matt there and he's filled with so many emotions he's about to go apeshit but he manages to contain them JUST enough not to make out with matt on the spot but gives him the tightest fucking hug and matt's like "ok buddy! love you too! please dont break my ribs!" and foggys too happy to notice matt forgot to flinch like he didnt know foggy was coming

Foggy gets the sign to matt and he can tell how fuckin stoked matt is and all he can think about is how grateful he is that the two of them get to work together and fucking do GOOD together and he's trying to express that in his awkward foggy way and he's GOING to kiss him right then and there!! hes about to do it look out world!!! and then matt says "you're NOT going to kiss me" and foggy realises haha YEAH THATD BE A BAD IDEA HUH and jokes it off and gives matt another hug - "i'll be careful not to break the ribs this time, buddy, seems like you've been falling over and hurting yourself enough recently,"-

foggy almost kisses matt out of anger when he finds out he's daredevil, when he won't shut up about how this city needs him and foggy would have done the same and blah, blah, bullshit because maybe then he'd FUCKING listen to him, or at least it'd shut him up, but the honest betrayal he feels - at matt for not telling him and at himself for STILL having a part of him that wants to kiss matt - is enough to get him just to leave : ^)

alright. the gang is watching fisk get carted away and see that SHIT, he's broken out, of course it wasnt going to be this easy. matt puts karen in a taxi goes to run off and foggy grabs him by his coat because MATT. you're not going to go fight fisk in your god damn pajamas right now it's too dangerous you're going to die you stupid son of a bitch idiot

and of course matt doesn't listen, he tells foggy to get back into the car with karen, go to his place, they'll be safe there, and grabs his own taxi

and foggy's left to sit there with karen in the cab as it drives Oh Too Fucking Slowly to matt's, and he's mumbling curses all the way and karen is trying to calm him down, he doesnt know why he's so worried, and all foggy can think about is what if matt dies because i didnt stop him and what if karen never gets to hear it from him and about 10 billion what-ifs that wont leave him the FUCK alone, and he sits next to the windowsill he knows matt comes in through and waits, not even wanting to look at the tv because what if he sees worse news Hrgh

matt beats up fisk and he barely even waits for the cops to get there, he gets one look and confirms 'yup, that's mahoney,' and fucking BOOKS it to his apartment, he climbs through the window and foggy's just sitting there waiting, karens in the next room watching the broadcast at a 3 minute delay on her phone, matt doesnt have a tv hes BLIND >:,\

and when matt comes in, bloody and beaten up and doing That Panting Thing He Does, but definitley alive, foggy just fucking. grabs him by the shoulders and kisses him because HE IS A L I V E !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and matt is suprised but he doesnt even try to protest because he's still riding the adrenaline from the fight

anyways. foggy pulls away for air and says 'you're so fucking stupid and i hate you' and then matt kisses hIM because uhh, thats FOGGY

and it's a minute later that matt senses another heartbeat and realizes karen's standing in the doorway, and she raises an eyebrow and obviously trying not to panic asks 'uh, foggy, pray tell, buddy, why you're making out with the devil in matt's bedroom' and foggy goes apeshit and tries to think of an excuse that doesn't invole 'uh thats matt' but it just kinda comes out as some stupid shit like 'i,,, uh,,,,, secret,...affair,,?i',m....gay." and matt just sighs and pulls off his helmet like "hey karen. it's me. hey karen whats poppin its me blind matt murdock" and needless to say they all have a Lot to talk abt

DRUNK KISSING:

so like. the first year they're together matt and foggy go out a lot, and it's mostly foggy dragging matt places and matt reluctantly coming because A) if someone doesnt watch foggy this idiot is going to puke and pass out in a ditch and B) he really like his company shh. no telling because that gay

anyways matt usually only drinks a little but foggy is mad lightweight right. he doesn't get shitfaced too often, usually only after exams or when he knows he has no classes the next day. when he does get shitfaced though he absolutley loses his shit and becomes even more touchy than usual, which is VERY TOUCHY because fuck you its my au and i get to choose the default affection levels

so basically. once foggy starts hugging matt and leaning on him and whining into his shirt about the 'hot girls' and 'killer nachos' at the party matt knows it's time to head home and foggy is too busy wrapping his arms around matt to notice he's being dragged out untill its too late

and y'know, thats fine, that's usual, all normal friend stuff, except what foggy also has a tendancy to do when he's drunk is kiss matt. sometimes its on his cheeks, or his forehead, or his shirt?? matt doesnt get that one??? and sometimes foggy even tries to go for the lips when hes particularly wilde. matt knows to expect this by the third time they go out, but it's still always a suprise when it happens, because sometimes it'll be out of nowhere when theyre walking back, or foggy'll stop matt and grab his cheeks and kiss him? sometimes they'll get all the way back to the dorm and matt will make foggy lie down and foggy will grab his shirt and pull him close enough to give him a quick peck before rolling over and promptly beggining to snore

which, y'know, is absolutley great for a maybe-gay-for-his-best-friend-catholic. what's also great is that foggy never seems to remember the fact he kissed matt the night before, and if he does, he definitley does NOT bring it up

so that's fine. whatever. thats life and matt will pretend like he doesnt care when foggy gives him a smooch because hes straight and loves girls and jesus christ, no homo, amen

but THEN. . then matt and foggy have been studying for exams for weEKS and theyre FINALLY DONE, FINALLY, and they are both going to get wasted out of their mINDS you better BELIEVE IT

so they do! and eventually they stumble back to their dorm together and sit together on the floor with a half-downed bottle of tequila and matt decides fuck it. he tells foggy he's never kissed a guy and foggy is like "haha cool. i have." matt's like "haha was it good" and foggys like "hell yeah man better than girls" so matts like hmm. "foggy i think i want to kiss a guy" and you can guess where this is goin

foggy is an oblivious little shit and just thinks matt's having a gay awakening so he's like "oh cool" and matt starts vibrating at inhuman frequency because FOGGY THIS IS THE ONE TIME I"M BASICALLY ASKING YOU TO DRUNK KISS ME AND YOU D O N T" so he just goes "haha yeah." and foggy's like "haha yeah"

and then matt chugs the bottle of tequila and says "foggy i think i wanna kiss you" and then he does but he's a good christian and also stupid so he just like. goes mwah on foggy's cheek

and foggy stares at him for like 15 seconds before basiclly challenging him to 'kiss him like a man, murdock, how are you supposed to get the gay experience if you dont go all in' and then they make out for like 20 minutes and life is good

(they both wake up w the worst fucking hangovers and theyre passed out on the floor and matt's like "foggy....im gay..." and foggys like "haha do you remember i kissed you" and matts like "????foggy i kissed YOU" and foggys like "oh yeah you did. you should have done that earlier" and matts says "????you were too busy trying to kiss me" and foggy goes "oh haha i was. cool" and then they fall back asleep...then they.....boyfriend.s)

FLOWER SHOP/TATTOO ARTIST AU:

so. matt is a florist and he runs a little shop across the street from an empty piece of real estate. a tiny place that used to be a deli but had just the WORST sandwiches, it was no wonder they closed down, god damn. anways. matt runs his shop with his best friends kirsten and karen who have IMPECCABLE taste in flowers and less impeccable taste in impulse control and not being huge lesbians.

one day this dude pulls up into matt's shop. his request is maybe the strangest matt's ever heard - 'can you get me two bouquets of like, the most metal flowers you have? like, ones that just look super cool but also, yknow, smell super good and sick and shit?'

matt laughs, and tells the guy that yeah, he can't help with the looks part, but he'll make sure to get him some that smell 'quote' sick and shit, come back tomorrow morning and they'll have some ideas-hey, what are these for anyways?

and the guy tells him, oh, hah, i'm moving in across the street, opening a little tattoo place? wanted some flowers to make it seem more, uhh....welcoming. matt laughs and says yeah, sure, cool, and tells him if he has anymore questions to call the store and ask for matt. the guy tells him if he ever wants a tattoo just cross the street and ask for foggy and unless the flowers matt gives him really suck he won't do him dirty and tattoo a dick on him

so anyways, they have a couple meetings, foggy decides on the flowers he wants and thanks matt and tells him hey, he should come check out the shop, it's opening tomorrow, and foggy wants to be able to point to the guy who did the sick florals. matt doesnt have anything better to do and he likes the sound of this guy's voice so hell, he might as well

when he goes over matt realizes oh shit. he really is out of his element here, but he asks the guy at the counter for 'foggy' and is led over to a corner where foggy's sitting and tattooing...himself? and matt realizes hey. i kind of have no idea what this dude looks like

so he sorta. sits there awkwardly untill he asks like. 'uh. i cant actually see what youre doing' and foggy goes OH IM SO FUCKING STUPID. i'm. man, saying this out loud seems kinda really stupid and cheesy i cant believe i have to do this...i'm....it's one of the flowers in the bouquet you made me....i just thought it looked really neat and smelled good and it....kinda reminds me of you and OK i KNOW that sounds really weird we met like 4 days ago BUT you seem super cool and i kinda hope we can maybe like. be friends or hang out or something,

and matt's like. o//////o yeah okay. uh. thats cool. thats cool uh im sure the flower is really pretty haha i love that type haha UH DO YOU WANT TO GET LUNCH OR SOMETHING haha maybe ill get a flower tattoo one day its pretty cool that you do tattoos UH IM FREE TOMOROW WAIT MAYBE THATS TOO SOON IM SORRY UH IM FREE WEDNESDAYS,

and foggy just kinda laughs and says 'no, tomorrow works,' and hey! they make plans and get coffee together and matt's like so. what tattoos do you have and foggy starts listing a bunch and eventually matt's like :( i wish i could see them they sound beautiful and foggy's like. here. heres my arm can i. yeah ok. and he grabs matts ar,m and he's like ok. feel the skin, its still a little raised can you feel that? ok, run your fingers over here and i can like. tell you wjats there

cue like an hour of sensual arm touching and tattoo explaining and the more matt learns about foggy and his tattoos and the more he hears the way he talks the more he's like A) oh fuck, i kinda really like this guy whos letting me feel up his arms and B) do i want a tattoo? i kind of want a tattoo

anyways. time jump they hang out a bit more, foggy always comes into matt's shop and talks to him in between customers, shows him the patterns he's designing, etc, and one day he comes in with a paper that has a design of some flowers on it and shows it to matt and as he's running his fingers across it he stops and says 'foggy? will you do this to me'

and foggys like 'bud are you sure? first tattoo, right, do you-are you really sure you want to do this, like, when, and wh" and matt's like 'shut up and put this ink in my skin before i chicken out' so matt sits through a PAINFUL ASS TATTOO and when it's done he's like FOGGY CAN I TOUCH IT CAN I TOUCH IT FOGGY CAN I TOUCH IT and foggy has to physically restrain matt from fondling his tattoo because its FRESH MATT

so foggys like 'ok, this is cause for celebration! babys first ink! we;re getting beers cmon' and they both go out to drink and matt's like 'hey foggy...can i touch more of your tattoos' and foggy's like 'uh, sure, i have another armfull,' and they do that for a while untill matt gets to the one foggy did the first time he visited foggy's tattoo parlor and foggy's like hah. remember this one? and matt's like yeah. i do. and they kinda just. sit there for a minute and then foggy's like 'ok. im gonna kiss you now punch me if you hate this, flowerboy' and matt absolutley does not punch him, thank you very much

and when they finish having their moment matt's like 'wow. i shoulda....i shoulda asked to feel you up again way sooner if i knew you were gonna do that' and foggy's like 'hey...i'd let you feel me up anytime' and they both kind of laugh and decide ok, worm, this works, and decide theyre gonna do that more often

they start to go out for drinks / dinner / lunch / any time they possibly can, and matt learns the curvature of foggys (suprisingly muscley?) arms down to a t, but he runs out of space to run his fingers over one night, and foggy kisses him and says 'hey. i've got more tattoos, y'know, but i don't think many people would appreciate it if i showed them off to you here' and matt is like 'wh-O H'

and foggy laughs and drags him to his apartment and pulls of his shirt and says 'ok, we're alone now. tell me what you feel' and matt sits on the bed in front of him and theres lots of sensual chest stroking going on and then yeah. matt gets fed up with all this touching foggy and not enough of foggy touching him and. they fuck oopsie

and after that they decide worm. that was good, wanna do that more often, holy shit, and decide to actually date date and thats like. thats that babey!

but years later they open a joint shop, an absolute mess of soft/punk aesthetics and everyone knows them because matt is still a soft florist who just has a fewwwww dozen flowers inked all over him and foggy is the punk god who flexes his sleeves all over town but flexes his soft boyfriend husband even more tHE END

#long post #mattfoggy #hcs

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the-lupine-sojourner · 5 years

Text

Ain’t Going Away [Eijiro Kirishima/Reader] [Hanahaki AU]

Hi! So, I know...I know. I wanted to wait, too, then my hand slipped and here we go. ^.^’ Sorry not sorry!

This idea came from Crush by David Archuleta, which I listened to on repeat while wiring this fic. I even used lyrics in it. They’re italicized and bolded.

Might not make sense, might end up being cool. Either way, hope you all enjoy!

I want to tag @elite-guard-hardygal (who gave me the encouragement needed to post this now instead of waiting) and @souskena, who voted for this idea as Kirishima X Reader and also voted for another one from This Post of Ideas. If y’all wanna see more of those ideas, please just send in an ask and tell me what you want to see. You can use the idea and say [Character] X Reader or a different F/M couple from MHA. Doesn’t have to be KiriKara, but that’s where my brain went coming up with the ideas.

..I’ll shut up now...

Hope you all enjoy!

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

(Ignore the words on the GIF...hehe...)

=#=#= Kirishima =#=#=#=

It all started after the attack on the USJ. Eijiro hadn’t meant to fall so deep so fast, but here he is. He’d protected Y/N when she’d gotten hurt, making sure she got the treatment she needed, staying with her and helping her through her recovery.

Ever since Y/N had fully recovered, he’d started coughing up petals, the number increasing every once in a while.

Now, the petals fall into the trash can, and he knows he’s in trouble. Twenty petals, over ten minutes of painful hacking and choking.

This girl had him puking flowers...and still he loved her. Y/N would never know, cus he was too stupid to just spill those three words.

But...but what if she said she didn’t feel the same way?

He’d be dead. So he kept doing to the study sessions Mina set up with their class to get he and Y/N closer together and Eijiro just hopes he keeps it together enough that he didn’t raise suspicion. He knows Mina manipulates him into going purely because she also gets Y/N to go. Of course, his best friend knew about his condition. She’d happened to The last thing he wanted was for Y/N to take pity on him and try to kiss him purely to stop the disease.

So he remains silent. That is, until his phone buzzes. Y/N was calling him. His eyes go wide. He’d forgotten! They had a study date tonight!

=#=#= Y/N =#=#=

“Hey, Kiri!” I cheer. I wasn’t mad. Of course, there was still plenty of time for him to get here, so I wanted to remind him now.

“H-hey, Y/N.” Eijiro replies. I frown.

“Dude, you okay?” I ask worriedly. His voice was really gravelly, like he was sick. “If you’re sick, we can reschedule.”

“Nah, I just, uh, was singing really loud a lot while cleaning.” He replies and I’m not sure I believe him. But I lie and pretend to buy it. He was such a nice guy, but even nice guys need privacy, so I push down the instinct to push and find out the truth.

“Oh. So we’re still on for tonight?”

“Absolutely. Chemistry tonight, right?” He asks. His voice seems to be a little steadier now, so I guess it wasn’t that big a deal.

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Just give me five minutes to change then I’m on my way.” I nod, blushing, then I shake myself. It wasn’t like he was coming to my house. It was just a study session. There would be other people from our class there.

“Alright. See you soon!” I hope I didn’t sound too eager as he repeats what I’d said and hangs up. I make sure all my books and notes are in the bag, then slowly walk down to the living room. Mom was waiting.

“Ready to go?” She asks. I slip on ankle boots at the door.

“I was born ready.” I retort playfully and go to grab a protein bar from the kitchen.

“Okay.” Mom says. I kiss her cheek and walk out the door. It was a twenty minute drive to the local library and I walk in happily, accustomed to the sight and smell of the building. Our classmate, Yaoyorozu, had somehow been talked into being the class tutor, as she had the highest grades. I had a strong suspicion my friend, Mina Ashido, was responsible. Mina could talk just about anyone into just about anything, and make it seem like their idea.

Either way, it was a great boost to my grades and I was grateful Momo decided to start these sessions.

=#=#= Kirishima =#=#=

I hung up the phone tonight. Something happened for the first time, deep inside, there’s a rush...what a rush...

Eijiro couldn’t help smiling to himself. Y/N had sounded so happy he’d be there! She was always happy, but this seemed different somehow.

Cus a possibility that you would ever feel the same way is just too much, just too much...

Why, though? Why would someone as wonderful and amazing as Y/N ever notice, much less fall for, a guy that had already failed to protect her and didn’t really let himself hang around her for fear of her discovering his condition and piecing it together. So he kept his distance, telling himself it was better this way, that it was okay.

Why do I keep running from the truth? All I ever think about is you...

However, the study session was an opportunity to see Y/N and help his grades a little at the same time and Lord knows that boy needs a bit of help.

So he trudges into the library, swearing he missed a petal in his throat when he was having that huge coughing fit earlier. Y/N sees him instantly, jogging over.

“Hey, you made it!” She cheers quietly, hugging him and seeming as happy as she had on the phone. Was that...was she blushing? Eijiro ignores that. It was windy outside. That was it. Yeah…

“Of course.” He replies softly. It was killing him, the way she smiles at him like he was the only one she saw, the way that hunter green fluffy sweater with missing shoulders swishes around as she moves.

Does she know what she’s doing to him? Is she teasing him til he breaks? Or he was just being creepy and reading too much into her expression?

Got me hypnotized, so mesmerized, and I just got to know--

Either way, he cuts wandering thoughts of Y/N off and makes himself keep just a little distance between them as they walk to the group. “I so need the help!” Y/N confesses, scratching the back of her neck. “Chemistry isn’t my strong suit.”

“You’ll get it.” He assures her. He was always the one to support her, to tell her she could do it, because he meant it and it was a harmless way to show his support, right?

Do you ever think, when we’re all alone, all that we could be, where this thing cold go?

Eijiro swallows, sipping from a water bottle he usually kept on him (puking flowers made one thirsty, apparently), and sets his bag down as Momo set up problems on the board Eijiro was frankly scared to try. He was surprised when Y/N sat across from him, smiling that damning smile at him again. He blushes scarlet and dips to grab his books so he doesn’t have to let her see him blushing. When he straightens, Mina is chatting with Y/N as she grabs her books, as well. It drove Eijiro mad when Y/N flits her eyes to him every now and again, and he swears that blush is still on her cheeks. Why? It wasn’t that warm, but maybe her sweater was making her hot?

=#=#= Y/N =#=#=

Am I crazy or falling in love? Is this real or just another crush?

It was a stupid question, really. I’d never felt quite like this before. Not even in middle school with Shinso, and I drew our wedding. It was nothing more than a momentary, flitting infatuation compared to Eijiro, however. Since he’d saved me at the USJ, I can’t help feeling like he and I were becoming closer, but he never wants to stay and talk at length with me, so I have to resort to texting him as much as he’d let me.

Do you catch your breath, when I look at you? Are you holding back, like the way you do?

It didn’t matter; he never wanted to talk too deep with me when we were together, or even through texting, so I’d have to settle for pining from afar. It’s eating me up, though. I just know something’s itching to be said.

The way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not looking, the way his eyes dart around, looking anywhere at me when I begin to get too personal, it all indicated something was wrong, but he never wanted to talk about it, so I always let it slide. No sense ruining our friendship because I couldn’t respect his boundaries. Mina wouldn’t tell me, either, insisting his home life was not the cause, and that she’d let me know if she found out anything.

I then shake myself; time to get back to the studying.

=#=#= Kirishima =#=#=

Cus I’m trying and trying to walk away, but I know this crush ain’t going away…

Eijiro sighs softly and copies the notes, and Momo’s explanation as to how she got the answer. It was hard to concentrate on chemistry when there was a different chemistry Eijiro was concerned with. The boy was sunk, and even if he tried to walk away, even if he wanted to just stop seeing her, he knew he’d eventually cave and go back to her. His life might well depend on staying with her. Mina looked between them, smiling at Eijiro, who flushes and grabs a sip of water. This wasn’t going to end well, was it?

Has it ever crossed your mind, when we’re hanging, spending time girl, are we just friends? Is there more? Is there more…

Y/N was smiling at him again as Momo wrapped up her session and they began putting books away. It was suddenly hard to breathe, and Eijiro didn’t think it was because Y/N was happy.

Shit. No, no, no! Not here. Not now!

“Are you okay?�� Y/N asks. Eijiro takes another sip of water, praying it would stall the inevitable.

“Yeah. M’fine.” He lies, and is kinda proud of how his voice remains fairly calm and level. “I just, ah, I felt a cough, and drank water to stop it.” He adds, and Y/N nods, swinging her backpack up. Cute and strong...could this girl get any more perfect?

See, it’s a chance we gotta take, cus I believe we could make this into something that will last forever and ever!

Something in Eijiro snaps and his trepidation suddenly doesn’t stop him from getting closer to Y/N. “Can I just say how pretty that sweater looks on you?” He says, using what he hopes is a flirty voice. Y/N blushes and this time, Eijiro knows he made her blush. Counting that as a win, and ignoring the way his throat is slowly constricting, he smiles at Y/N.

“Aww, r-really? I- -thank you!” Y/N replies.

“Thank you.” Eijiro retorts without thinking, blushing as soon as the words were out. “Shit. I mean, um…”

“Relax, Eijiro.” Y/N giggles, and dear God his blush is getting out of hand. This girl would be the death of him.

Maybe literally. He shuts that thought down. Or not. “I gotta say, Eijiro...you look handsome in that flannel.” He blinks, heart skipping happily as he processes her words.

=#=#= Y/N =#=#=

Holy shit what’s gotten into Eijiro?! He’s always been super supportive, but...flirty is a new side of him!

I mean, I like it, but still.

“Thanks!” He then coughs a few times and instantly, I am worried.

“Eiji!” I grab his water bottle and press it into his hands. “Try some water.” He takes a sip and straightens, the effort of not coughing making his eyes water.

“Th-thanks.” He croaks. “I think...home...now.” Is all I can understand. I nod.

“Okay. Text me when you get there, okay?” I don’t notice the look he gives Mina when he turns around. I don’t notice the frenzied, panicking look in their eyes. All I know is Eijiro gives me a thumbs up and takes another sip of water as he walks to his car. I get into mine, worry gnawing at me. I sit there as the others drive away.

Suddenly, I realize that Mina is still here, too. She’s on the phone, gesturing frantically. I roll the window down and can’t help listening in on a hunch.

“--ro, this is serious! You texted me that you’d coughed up twenty petals before the session! Now you’re coughing harder than that?! So soon!? This is getting out of hand! I have to tell he- -yes, someone has to tell her, Eijiro! Y/N has the right to know what you’re doing through! She’s the damn love you’ve kept inside you, you idiot!” I am floored.

Petals? Coughing up petals? Had I heard that right? Shit! I’d heard of that! It’s a rare, deadly disease coming up in someone with an intense, unrequited love, right? They begin to puke up flowers, starting at petals, then whole flowers when the feeling increase. How could this happen! I was the cause of his suffering?! I made him cough up flowers because he couldn’t tell me how he felt?! Why not?! Did I scare him away?

Well, obviously not...considering that he was in this position because he loved me, but couldn’t get the words out...

I start the car and drive as fast as I can, my mind racing. I just hoped I wasn’t too late.

Eijiro liked me so much, and I never had a clue! Which is stupid, looking back. What I thought was me just reading too much into his words and expressions was real. He loved me! And I loved him! That should be all the cure he needs, right? I just have to confess to him and it’ll all be okay!

=#=#= Mrs. Kirishima =#=#=

“Hey, honey, how was- -Eijiro!” Mrs. Kirishima wasn’t usually one to fret too much over her child. But seeing him with a stream of tears and petals falling out of his mouth was enough to drive her into a panic. She sits him down and gets him a bucket for the petals. She knew by the amount of petals already in the bucket that this was a whole flower coming up, which meant he was running out of time... “Breathe, baby. Breathe. It’ll be okay…” She whispers without reassurance it’ll come true.

“It hurts!” Eijiro sobs in a moment of vulnerability. “I could barely talk to Mina on the way over here!” He croaks between coughs. All Mrs. Kirishima can do is rub her son’s back.

“Shh, son. I know. I know...” She doesn’t know what else to say.

Suddenly, a few minutes later, the door opens and in comes a young woman. She goes immediately to Eijiro and gently eases his chin up. Before Eijiro can react, she’s kissing him and Mrs. Kirishima notices tears down her eyes. Eijiro isn’t stupid and responds a moment later, winding his hands in her hair and then they have to break apart because he’s still coughing. “I came as fast as I could. Something didn’t sit right with me and I couldn’t go home, and then I noticed Mina on the phone and I overheard and- -I’m so sorry, Eijiro! I never meant to hurt you!” She sobs, looking him in the eye. Eijiro is stunned.

“...You love me back?” He whispers, as if not daring to consider it unless this woman repeats it aloud. She nods.

“Yes! I do, I do, I do!” She hugs him. “I thought I was being crazy or reading too much into you!” She replies, sobbing a little, this time in happiness. “I was so happy to know you liked me, but also so scared I was too late. Eijiro, I love you and will always love you!”

“I love you, too. Y/N.” He breaths, leaning his forehead against hers. So, this was who Eijiro talked about to Mina. Mrs. Kirishima couldn’t help overhearing her son’s conversations when passing by and had picked up bits and pieces. This woman was important to her son, so she was important to Mrs. Kirishima, as well.

“I’ll get you more water, Eijiro.” She murmurs, grabbing his cup as Y/N moves to sit next to Eijiro.

Now that the danger was passed, those two had lots to talk about.

#Fanfiction #Hanahaki AU #MHA #BNHA #eijiro kirishima x reader #Kirishima X Reader #Eijiro X Reader #'Happy Ending' for the Hanahaki AU #Poll Result One-Shot

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smkkbert · 5 years

Text

Do you remember (4/13)

Eight years after Oliver and Felicity became teenage parents, they have everything they could have ever hoped for and more. They have a good life in a nice house. Their marriage is happy, and a second baby is on its way. The calm they have settled in is interrupted abruptly when a stalker starts terrorizing Felicity.

Previous installments in this series: - The best mistake - In my daughter’s eyes - To make you feel my love

Rating: Teen

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 or read everything on Ao3

Author’s note: This fic is different than any other I have written. There are a lot of ups and downs. It’s not as even in pacing as you might be used to from my stories. Chapters will hopefully be posted every Sunday. Enjoy the ride!

Sliding back and forth on her chair, Felicity tried to find the right position to sit comfortably. Unfortunately, her baby bump made it almost impossible to stand, sit or lie comfortably. The weight of the bump seemed to pull at her front, causing a slightly dragging pain. The strain it meant for her back left a dull ache there.

Felicity loved being pregnant. She loved being so close to her baby and having this connection that only she could have to the baby. She enjoyed feeling his movements inside of her, whether he kicked or just had a hiccup. As long as the baby was inside of her, he was well-protected. Nothing could happen to him, and there was just something soothing about the thought. That Oliver spoilt her even more than he already did when she wasn’t pregnant was just the icing on the cake.

As much as Felicity loved being pregnant, she couldn’t wait for her baby to be born. Aside from the fact that she couldn’t wait to meet this tiny human-being after all these months, her body could also use the relief. Her back would probably be grateful, and her bladder could need a pause from being used as a trampoline too.

She really couldn’t remember that being pregnant had been this exhausting when she had been pregnant with Mae. The emotional struggle she had gone through at that time had probably covered the physical struggle though.

With a sigh, Felicity leaned back in her chair. It wasn’t exactly comfortable as the baby’s weight was now pressing down on her spine, but at least it was a different feeling now. She let the feeling sink in for a moment, stroking her hand over her bump, before she took the file from the desk and resumed reading.

She had just managed to skim the first three lines of the paragraph when her cellphone rang. Without even looking up from the text, she reached out her hand and grabbed the phone. Rereading the last lines once more, she took the call.

“Hello?”

There was a beat of silence that Felicity barely noticed. Only when a long noise sounded, she stopped reading and frowned.

“Hello?”

The noise continued. Felicity’s frown deepened as she tried to figure out what it was. She shot a brief look at the caller ID, thinking that maybe her mother was calling and the connection from Europe was just bad. The words that showed on the display of her phone made her suck in a deep breath though. Unknown Number.

Five days had passed since Saturday. Everything had been quiet since. She hadn’t received any more texts or any gifts. She had even been able to shake the feeling of being watched. She had thought that whatever had happened last week was over. Technically, those two little words on her display didn’t prove anything either, but Felicity just had a bad feeling about this given what had happened last weekend.

“Who is there?”

Felicity tightened her hand on the phone, listening closely. She tried to hear anything that could help her figuring out who this caller was or where he called from. There were no sounds of a train passing by or a special chime that could only be hurt in one district of the city like it happened so often in the movies. There was nothing but the noise that she soon noticed was heavy breathing.

Unable to take it any longer, Felicity hung up. She took in a deep breath, trying to shake the bad feeling. Without any hesitation, she turned to her phone and switched on the intercom to talk to her assistant.

“Gerry, please send Adrian in.”

Her assistant shot her a look through the large glass walls before he gestured for Adrian, who was standing at the other side of the office anteroom. With large steps he walked towards Felicity door. He knocked briefly before he stepped in.

“Everything alright?”

“I just got a phone call,” Felicity said and waved with her cellphone. “It was an unknown number. Nobody talked. There was just breathing.”

She threw her cellphone towards him without warning, but Adrian caught it one-handedly without much effort.

“I will try tracking this caller, but I cannot promise anything. If it’s the same person that sent you the texts, the flowers and the gift, he won’t get caught easily.”

“I know,” Felicity said, nodding her head. “Just try to find out anything please.”

Adrian nodded his head. “Of course.”

He looked at her for a moment longer before he nodded once more. He tightened his hold on Felicity’s phone, straightened his shoulders and turned around. He reached the door with two steps.

“Adrian?”

Adrian turned around to Felicity with perked up eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Do you think I am overreacting?” she asked honestly, her voice sounding small. “I mean nothing threatening happened, right? There were just texts, flowers, a gift and now one strange call. It’s nothing. I am just freaking out. That’s it. Right?”

For a long moment, Adrian just looked at her. He was scrutinizing her face thoroughly, thinking about how he should answer. Releasing a long breath, he sat down at the chair on the other side of her desk then. He looked at her insistently.

“One of the worst problems with stalking is that it is not taken seriously soon enough,” Adrian told her. “It’s not just about the victims but also family and friends as well as police. Everyone says it’s just letters or just phone calls or just whatever. Of course they are right. It is just that at the start, but that doesn’t mean it will stay like that. Stalkers are unpredictable, and every stalker is different. Wait and see it good tactic at the start, but if it doesn’t stop, you have to go on to the offensive. You feel unsafe, so we have something to do about this.”

Felicity took in a deep breath, feeling a little bit of relief. At least that meant she wasn’t completely crazy.

“What do you suggest we do now?” Felicity asked. “I mean our attempts at finding out who this is didn’t lead us anywhere so far.”

“Experts advise to four steps in handling stalkers,” Adrian explained. “The first step is setting boundaries. It’s easy when you know the stalker, but it will work this way too. You reject gifts. You reject calls. You do not answer to texts.”

Felicity nodded her head. “Understood.”

“The second step is telling people close to you about this, but you have already done this. The third step is to give one last warning and finally call in the police. Since you have personal security through me, that’s a lot of warning and actually close to calling in police already.”

Felicity narrowed her eyes slightly. “You know a lot about stalking.”

“I did a lot of reading about it after Saturday,” Adrian replied with a half-hearted chuckle. “Like you said, it’s a job with a lot of responsibilities, and I am taking my job seriously.”

“Good to know.”

“Really, Felicity,” he said with soft voice, “if there is anything I can do to make you feel better, just tell me.”

“Thank you, Adrian. I really appreciate that.”

Adrian smiled at her briefly before he got up and walked to the door. He had just reached it yet again when her phone rang once more. Felicity tensed immediately, and she felt her heart jumping up into her throat.

“It’s your mom,” Adrian said. “Sorry for looking.”

Felicity smiled quickly. “It’s fine.”

She reached out her hand and Adrian walked back to her desk to hand her the phone. He gestured towards the door with a questioning look like he wanted to ask if he should leave her alone. Felicity just shook her head and gestured for him to sit back down. The phone calls with her mother usually weren’t that private that nobody could be around.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Felicity!” The excitement in her mother’s voice was unmistakable. “Finally, I get a hold on you.”

“Have you tried to call me already?”

“Yes, a few times, but you were always busy,” Donna replied. “How are you? How are my grandchildren?”

“I am fine,” Felicity replied, “though I am impatiently waiting for your youngest grandchild to lay in my arms rather than on my bladder.”

Adrian tried to hide his amusement, but he couldn’t bite back a snort. When Felicity looked at him, he quickly cleared his throat and pretended to be really busy looking at his shoes. He hid his lips behind his hand though.

“You will make it through this. It’s just a few more weeks,” Donna told her gently. “I guess Mae is excited too?”

“Very excited, yes.” Felicity smiled. “She’s going to be the best big sister a baby could wish for. I already know that.”

“Of course she is. She had strong role models for good siblings.”

“That’s true.”

Felicity smiled to herself. Oliver was a great big brother. His relationship with Thea had had its ups and downs, especially since the gap in age. They had always been close, no matter what though.

Felicity had two wonderful big sisters too. Sara and Laurel had really made her feel like she was one of them and like they had always been sisters. She hadn’t been the stepsister. She had been their sister without any reservations. It was why she had confided in them when she had needed someone to lean on during the pregnancy with Mae.

“How’s Europe?” Felicity asked eventually.

“It’s a dream come true,” Donna replied. “I cannot believe it’s only going to be a few more weeks. This tour around the world has been an unbelievable experience.”

“I can imagine,” Felicity replied. “What other destinations are on your schedule for the rest of your tour?”

“We are currently on our way to Munich. After that, we still have Amsterdam, Paris, Madrid and some Portuguese island to go. I forgot the name.”

“Sounds like you still have a lot on your plate.”

“We do, but it’s great,” Donna replied. “I am sure you have a lot on your plate too. With the baby on the way and your last days at Queen Consolidated, you are probably busy. I hope my handsome son-in-law and Moira are taking good care of you.”

“Very good care, yes. I am quite busy though.” Felicity nodded her head even though her mother couldn’t see it. “There is always a bunch of work waiting for me at my desk. It doesn’t slow down just because I am having a baby. Buying all the baby equipment and making sure everything is ready for the baby’s birth – it’s a lot of work too, but it’s a good kind of work. I couldn’t be happier.”

“That’s great to hear.”

Felicity could hear the smile in her mother’s voice and tried not to feel too guilty about lying to her. The only reason she wasn’t telling her the truth which was that she hadn’t really bought much baby equipment yet because she had been too busy at QC and with this newest problem. She knew she needed to make time for that soon though if she didn’t want her baby to come home to an unfurnished nursery and sleep on the floor with nothing but a blanket wrapped around his tiny body.

“Mom, I gotta hang up now,” Felicity said quickly. “Have a nice time and just remember to send Mae as many postcards as you can, okay?”

“Oh, we surely do.” Donna chuckled. “Bye, Felicity.”

“Bye, Mom.”

Felicity hung up with a sigh and held the phone out for Adrian to take it. He did, looking at her with a hesitating expression on his face.

“You really don’t want to tell your mother about this?” he asked. “Because if I had a child, I would want to know about this.”

Felicity shook her head. “No. My mother would just end her world cruise early and come back to Starling to drive me crazy. I love my mom, but she and I do not necessary deal with things the same way.”

Adrian nodded. He didn’t look necessarily convinced, but he didn’t argue with her either. Still, Felicity felt the need to say something more.

“My mom has always dreamed of seeing the world, and this is the first time she got further then Illinois,” Felicity explained. “I don’t want to ruin this for her. This stalker is probably just going to get bored and leave anyway.

Again, Adrian nodded. He still didn’t seem convinced, but he just shot her a smile and walked towards the door.

She could hear her phone ringing from the anteroom once more. Adrian shot a look at the display. This time, he didn’t come back to hand her the phone though. He just tightened his grip and frowned seriously. Felicity didn’t need him to say anything to understand what this meant.

Whatever was happening here, it still wasn’t over.

* * *

A long breath escaped Oliver’s breath when he realized that he had woken up. Frowning, he turned his head to shoot a look at his alarm. According to the LED display board, it wasn’t even three in the morning, so it was definitely to early to even lie awake in bed until his alarm would go off like he did so often.

With another sigh, Oliver turned onto his side. He reached his arms out for Felicity, so he could wrap his arms around her and snuggle up to her back. He always slept best when there was little to no distance between him and her. When his hands found her body, touching her shoulders, he frowned though. All tiredness was like washed away immediately.

“Felicity?”

A little whimper escaped Felicity, and she only trembled more. Sliding to her as close as possible, Oliver wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest. He could feel her rapid heartbeat and her erratic breathing. The back of her top was damp from sweat, and the skin of her arms was cold. Despite the tight hold she had on him, she was still restless, moving and trembling in his arms.

“It’s okay,” Oliver whispered soothingly. “It’s okay, Felicity. I am here. You are not alone. I am here. You are alright. Everything’s alright.”

Despite his soft whispers, Felicity didn’t calm down. Her heart was beating as quickly as it had before already. Her breathing was only getting more erratic. She was hyperventilating to a point that Oliver felt she would pass out if she was awake.

“Felicity, you gotta calm down,” Oliver whispered and stroked his hand over her baby bump. “You are home. It’s alright.”

There was still no reaction though. He didn’t seem to get through to her at all. She seemed to be too much caught in her nightmare.

Oliver felt his heart breaking for Felicity. He knew from own experience how much nightmares could make you suffer and how physically and emotionally exhausted they could leave you when you woke up.

After the Gambit had gone down and his father had shot himself in front of his eyes, telling him to go back to his family and take care of his girls, Oliver had been haunted by nightmares for years. He had relived the moment his father had shot himself and moments on the island, thinking he would die and never see Felicity or Mae, again and again every night. Sometimes, he had dreamed that he died and saw Felicity and Mae breaking apart at the news. Other times, he had dreamed about coming back from the island and being long forgotten. Neither Felicity nor Mae had remembered him. Looking back, he couldn’t say which nightmare had been worse for him to process.

Only therapy had helped him to make the nightmares occur less often though there were still nights that he woke up without knowing where he was. Usually, it was having Felicity right at his side, holding him in her arms and reminding him that he was home that helped him push past the aftermath quickly.

When Felicity’s whimpers grew louder and her trembles turned into spasms, Oliver pressed his lips to the soft spot right under her ear.

“Felicity, you have to wake up now,” he whispered a little more loudly than he had spoken before. “Wake up please.”

With a gasp for breath, Felicity opened her eyes. Even in the darkness of their bedroom, he could see how she was looking around quickly, trying to find out where she was. Still disorientated, Felicity moved her hand to her bump like she wanted to check if the baby was okay. Her fingers found Oliver’s hand that was already resting over her top, and that was the moment she finally relaxed a little.

“Oliver.”

He kissed the soft spot under her ear once more, tightening his hold on Felicity. His hand stroked up and down her baby bump slowly, offering some comfort.

“Yes, it’s me,” he whispered unnecessarily as Felicity was already relaxing against him. “I am here. You’re safe.”

“What happened?” Felicity asked, still being out of breath. “What- I don’t- I’m so cold.”

Oliver pulled the blanket up her body until it reached right under her chin. He put his hand to her arm and rubbed up and down, trying to spend some more warmth.

“Do you want some tea?” he asked her. “Or maybe some soup or just a heating pad. I could-“

“No.” Felicity shook her head firmly. “No.”

There was a long moment of silence. Oliver didn’t say a word. He just continued trying to warm her and give her a little comfort in this situation. He knew that all he could really do was being there for her and wait for her to tell her what she needed.

Felicity took a few deep breaths. Oliver could feel her breathing and her heartbeat slowing down. The tensions in her muscles disappeared completely, and her body melted back against his to a point that it felt like they were just one. Felicity moved her hand to his on her upper arm, lacing her fingers through his. She pulled his hand to her lips, kissed the palm of her hand and squeezed his fingers.

Even without hearing her say a single word about her nightmare, Oliver knew what it had been about. These last days had been a terrible up and down. After there had been a few days that nothing happened and those unwanted gifts had stopped, Felicity had started to receive phone calls. Whoever called her, never said a word. He just breathed heavily. The number of phone calls had increased quickly.

Oliver couldn’t say that he wasn’t unsettled by these developments. He tried not to show it too much because he didn’t want to frighten Felicity anymore than she already was frightened. He tried to be strong for her and for Mae, so they could lean on them. It was his job to do so. Internally, he was going crazy though.

As recently as this morning, Adrian had told Oliver that the way those phone calls he escalated quickly wasn’t a good sign. Within less than a week, whoever was doing this had gone from sending texts to seeking more direct contact through phone calls. If he really meant it seriously, he would soon try to meet her.

“It was just a nightmare.”

“Yeah,” Oliver whispered back. He nuzzled the nape of Felicity’s neck and kissed her shoulder. “I am here. You are safe. It’s-“

“I know,” Felicity interrupted him. “Let’s just go back to sleep. I am fine and-“

“No, you are not fine,” Oliver whispered, “and you don’t have to pretend to be fine for me.”

Oliver considered Felicity to be much stronger than he was. She was better at showing what she really felt instead of hiding it like he did. She confronted her pain because she had the strength to do so. If she tried to cover her emotions, she did so because she thought he needed it. He knew that.

“It’s okay to be scared. I am scared too.”

At that, Felicity turned around in his arms. She put her hands to his cheeks and let her fingers explore his mimics. Unlike Oliver, she couldn’t see well in the dark.

“Are you?”

“Of course I am,” Oliver whispered, tightening his hold on her. “I am scared that someone is trying to hurt you and, with that, our entire family. If there is something that scares me more than anything, it is that someone could hurt Mae, you or our baby.”

“Maybe it’s just nothing.”

Felicity’s voice was small, and Oliver could hear how close to crying she was. In the darkness, he couldn’t see any tears, but he was sure they were already welling in her eyes.

“Do you believe that?”

There was a beat of silence after Oliver’s question before a heart-wrenching throb fell from Felicity’s lips. She moved impossibly close to him, resting her head under his chin and letting him hold her. Oliver did so gladly, protecting her with his strong arms wrapped around her and rubbing his hands over her back that he knew was aching from the weight of her bump lately.

They had tried to tell themselves that it was nothing at the start, but there was no denying that something was going wrong here now. Even if there had just been texts, the moment Felicity had started to feel unsafe, they should have taken further measures. It wasn’t okay for Felicity to be scared. Even if this was just a joke, and Oliver got the feeling that it wasn’t, it just really wasn’t okay.

“I will have to get a new phone number,” Felicity said with a sob eventually. “I get these phone calls every ten minutes now.”

“I know,” Oliver whispered, kissing Felicity’s forehead. “I will take care of a new number for you first thing tomorrow.”

Felicity nodded, sucking in a deep breath. Her fingers were clinging to his shirt, holding onto him as tightly as she could. Her nose was resting against the side of his neck, and she breathed him in regularly.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for being here.”

Oliver smiled softly to himself. As messed up as all of this was, the little moments he shared with his family gave him the strength to stand through this and help Felicity to stand through this too. At least he hoped that he could help Felicity to stand through this a little.

“There is no place it’s rather be,” Oliver whispered. “Absolutely none.”

“Not even Aruba?”

Oliver chuckled. After they had spent their honeymoon in Aruba, they really wanted to go to Aruba now. If Felicity wasn’t pregnant, he would talk to his mother and ask for the private jet to take them to Aruba, far away from here, as soon as possible. He made a mental note to take Felicity to Aruba as soon as their yet-to-be-born family member would allow them to.

“Not Aruba. Not Bali. No other place on this earth.”

Felicity angled her head back to look at his face. Oliver guessed that her eyes were adjusted to the dark now, at least better adjusted than they had been before. She looked tired and exhausted, but there was a warmth in her eyes that only Felicity could feel with how messed up things were around them.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”

Oliver smiled and brushed his thumb over Felicity’s cheek. He could feel the wetness where the tears had fallen. He wiped them way, wishing the pain that had caused them could be wiped away just as easily.

“I love you too.”

They both leaned in at the same time, so their lips met halfway. Oliver could taste the salt of her tears on her lips, but it only made him want to kiss her more. He wanted to take the saltiness away like he had wiped the wetness away, so he licked over her bottom lip until Felicity opened her lips to the touch of his tongue.

A low moan escaped Felicity’s lips, and it echoed in his chest. Her leg fought itself free from the blanket that was covering her and wrapped around his hip. Propping herself up onto her elbow, Felicity turned Oliver onto his back and climbed onto his lap. Oliver was surprised in the sudden shift of atmosphere, but he held onto Felicity’s hips to pull her even closer nonetheless.

When their lips eventually parted, Felicity licked her lips. She moved against him, pressing the juncture of her legs against his lap.

“Make love to me.”

Her whisper filled the room. Though it was a request, it sounded like a promise. Oliver didn’t need to be asked twice. His fingers already snuck beneath the hem of Felicity’s top, and he straightened up a little, so his lips got closer to Felicity’s. He could feel her breath ghosting over his face.

“Gladly.”

The last sound had just fallen from his lips when he closed the distance and kissed Felicity once more. He wanted her to find herself in him and find himself in her. It was what they both needed tonight.

* * *

“I have fallen into despair.”

Felicity chuckled, opening the door further for Laurel to come in. Her older step sister sighed and hugged Felicity briefly before she went past her into the house.

“I really thought all of these samples of possible decorations would make choosing the decorations a cakewalk because I thought I knew what I wanted, but now I feel like I have no idea what I want anymore,” Laurel said with a shake of her head and sighed. “Tommy is absolutely no help of course. Men usually aren’t helpful when it comes to aesthetic decisions. The only decision Tommy wanted to have a say in was which drinks and food we were offering. Everything else has been up to me, and I am really going crazy here.”

“Good thing you have a real wedding enthusiast here,” Felicity said with a smile.

Laurel turned around to her with an amused smile and perked up an eyebrow. “You mean Mae?”

“Who else would I mean?”

They both chuckled. As much as Felicity loved weddings or had at least learned to love them, nobody came close to loving them as much as Mae did. Felicity wouldn’t be surprised if her daughter decided to plan weddings for a living someday far into the future. She would certainly do so with all of her heart.

“Where is Mae?”

“Coming!”

There was a rumbling upstairs before Mae came into sight. She ran down the stairs, jumping down the last two steps. She didn’t manage to stop soon enough and almost knocked Laurel off her feet when she threw herself at her, wrapping her arms around her aunt’s middle and hugging her tightly.

“Hi, Munchkin,” Laurel said, hugging her back with a chuckle. “Thank you for offering your help with the wedding decorations because I really cannot do this alone.”

“Don’t worry,” Mae replied. “You’ve got me now.”

Laurel smiled at her and pulled a thick collection folder from her purse. “That’s good because I really need your help with all of these possible wedding decorations.”

“I’ve got this,” Mae said and took the folder from Laurel. She had to hold it to her chest tightly and arch her back to keep it from dropping to the floor. “This will be much more fun than helping Uncle Tommy to pick a suit.”

“Girls’ days are always more fun,” Laurel agreed. “You did right to choose your mom and me over your dad and Uncle Tommy.”

Mae already walked ahead to the living room, and Felicity was about to follow her, but Laurel held her back. She grabbed her hand and waited until Mae had disappeared in the living room where she couldn’t hear them before she looked at Felicity.

“I am very sorry I asked you for help in this.”

Felicity frowned. “Why? I told you I would help you with the wedding preparations.”

“Yeah, but that was before all of this stalking happened,” Laurel replied. “It was why I wanted to delay the wedding planning until Donna was back to help me. That way I would have gotten the help I needed, and I could have helped you getting a little rest from your mom. I know you need it sometimes. When Ollie came over last week, he said it might be a good idea to ask you to help me though. I wasn’t sure but-“

“If Oliver thinks it’s a good idea, you can actually be sure that it probably is.” Felicity smiled warmly. “Oliver knows me better than anybody else. If he thinks it’s worth a try to distract me, it is. Besides, you went with me to a birthing class when were still in high school, so I might owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything, and even if you did,” Laurel said, scrunching up her nose slightly and shaking her head. “If this is getting too much for you at any time, you just tell me and I will pack in my stuff and give you the rest you need.”

Felicity took in a deep breath, nodding her head. She couldn’t deny that she would have probably told Laurel to please ask someone else to help her with the wedding planning. Since Oliver had explicitly told Laurel that he thought it was a good idea if Felicity helped, she was giving this idea a shot though. Oliver knew her quite well, so this might actually help to distract her a little bit.

“Is there anything new about the stalker yet?” Laurel asked. “The last Ollie told us was that you got a new phone number and that Moira increased your security.”

“Adrian Chase and his team are watching the house 24/7 now,” Felicity replied with a sigh, nodding her head, “in case that guy should show up here.”

“Were there any more calls?”

“Not since I changed my phone number.” Felicity massaged the back of her neck uncomfortably for a moment. “The truth is that I wouldn’t even know if something happened though. Adrian is checking my post and my emails in case the guy tries to contact me through that.”

When Adrian had suggested this, Felicity hadn’t been sure at the start. She knew that Adrian was trustworthy. If you worked in the security branch, especially for a family like the Queens, you had to be trustworthy. If there was any doubt about that, Moira’s thorough checkups of anyone she hired would have brought those doubts to the surface. Still, letting someone go through every piece of her life had seemed a lot.

Since the only other option had been a gasp for breath and a racing heart whenever she received an email or whatever, letting Adrian go through it first had seemed to be the better idea.

“And you still don’t know who it is?”

Felicity shook her head. “I have tried to think of anyone who could do that, but I really have no idea. I can’t imagine that I even know a person who would do that.”

“And Moira’s security didn’t find out anything either?”

“No.” Felicity sighed. “All possible leads led nowhere at the end.”

Laurel tugged some strands of Felicity’s hair out of her face and behind her ear. She smiled comfortingly, squeezing her fingers once more.

“I have no idea what you are going through,” she said, “but I am here for you whatever you need.”

Felicity took in a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears she already felt welling in her eyes. She couldn’t count how many times she had burst into tears or at least been close to doing so in the last few weeks. She felt like she was constantly on edge, always scared that something would happen.

“Thank you,” Felicity whispered. “Since there is nothing we can do to end this right now, I guess distraction is the best we can do instead. Otherwise, I will just sit here and wonder why all of this is happening.”

It wasn’t fair this was happening to them. After everything she and Oliver had already been through, they should be able to enjoy the last time before their second baby was born. They shouldn’t have to deal with something like this.

Felicity had tried to figure out what she had done to deserve this. She didn’t necessarily believe in karma, but she did believe that good people deserve good things happening to them. She was far from perfect, but she did consider herself a good person. Still, it seemed like the most terrible things kept happening to Oliver and her.

Life just wasn’t fair.

“You don’t blame yourself for this, do you?” Laurel asked with a frown. “Because this is not your fault.”

Felicity released a breath. “Then whose fault is it?”

“It’s the fault of that guy,” Laurel said firmly. “He’s crazy. He doesn’t understand the boundaries every other person understands. No matter what you said or do, there is no excuse in the world for anyone to act like this and make you feel like this. Even if those gifts and those texts and whatever were all meant well, it is not okay.”

Felicity sucked in another deep breath, nodding her head. She knew in the back of her mind that Laurel was right. There was nobody to blame but whoever was doing this. It was just easier to blame herself rather than a faceless and nameless person.

“If there is one thing you want to blame yourself for,” Laurel said with an almost amused smile, “it should be being so gorgeous that even a possible stranger just fell in love with you and can’t imagine spending your life without you now, and that’s hardly something that deserves blame, right”

Despite the tears in her eyes, she couldn’t help but chuckle about Laurel’s words. She nodded, wordlessly agreeing that Laurel was right. She wasn’t to blame, and she shouldn’t blame herself.

After a moment of silence, Laurel pulled Felicity into her arms for a gentle hug. Felicity leaned against her older step sister, taking some deep breaths until she felt more relaxed. Only then she pulled back and nodded her head.

“It’s probably just a crazy person,” Felicity whispered. “A really crazy person.”

There was a small part of her that noticed that there was little to no comfort in the fact that the person who was stalking her was crazy. Crazy people were even more unpredictable than sane people were.

“Hey, are you coming?”

At Mae’s call, Felicity took in another deep breath. She wiped her fingers under her eyes to make sure there was no sign of the tears that had welled there left. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took one last breath and finally put on a smile.

Laurel and Felicity joined Mae in the living room. Apparently, while the adults had still talked about the threats the little girl didn’t know anything about yet, she had gone through the entire part of the collection folder that held samples of table decoration. She had used the coasters Felicity had put on the couch table for the homemade ice tea Oliver had prepared for them to mark the pages with her most favorite decorations.

“So what did you choose?” Laurel asked, rubbing her hands together. “I am already so excited.”

While Felicity poured them some ice tea, Mae presented the three table decorations she had picked. Interestingly, she had chosen three completely different sets. The first one had a flowery theme and was held in green and different shades of beige. The second sample looked very noble with crystals and pearls on a light blue background.

“This one is my absolute favorite though.”

Felicity almost burst out laughing when Mae opened the folder on her third favorite. With the pink tablecloth, the pink flowers and pink feathers, it looked like it had been designed by Barbie while she had been high on ecstasy. If the expression on Laurel’s face was any indication, she felt the same way.

“You know, Mae, I think I like the other two just a little bit better,” Laurel told Mae carefully. “Let’s take a look back at the other two, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Granny Donna would be really proud of you though,” Felicity whispered towards her daughter, winking. “She would have had the same favorite.”

Mae smiled happily and browsed back in the book, trying to find her other two favorites again. Since she had taken out the coasters when she had first showed her picks to Laurel and Felicity, she didn’t find them as easily.

Felicity was just about to ask Laurel if she had already decided on the flowers for her bouquet since that could help them deciding about the further decorations. Before she could say anything though, her cell phone rang. She shot a look at the display, thinking Oliver would call her to ask if everything was alright, but her heart stopped when she saw those two little words she had hoped never to see again.

Unknown number.

Immediately, Felicity tensed. She had changed her number only a couple of days ago, and it had seemed to be the solution for her problem as she hadn’t received any more calls. Since then, she kept her number a secret. Only a small circle of people had this number, people she knew she could trust.

Her hand was shaking slightly when she grabbed her phone and rejected the call. She didn’t even have the hope that it was someone else, so she didn’t give it a chance. Instead, she just switched off the phone. She wouldn’t give this person the chance to drive her crazy by calling her every ten minutes again.

When Felicity was finally able to look away from the phone, she saw that Laurel watched her. She turned her head, shooting Laurel a brief smile and shaking her head. There was no need to talk about this yet. They had met here to distract Felicity, so she would let herself be distracted rather than thinking too much about this.

“Okay, so I actually like the one with the green a lot,” Laurel said before Mae could notice the silence. “It’s very simple, but it’s also very beautiful.”

“I agree,” Felicity said, nodding her head. “I think it’s very much your and Tommy’s style too.”

“Yes, that is what I was thinking,” Laurel said. “Besides, since there are a lot of decisions about the wedding that are open-“

The doorbell interrupted Laurel, making her frown.

“Do you expect someone?”

“No,” Felicity replied, “but Adrian or one of his colleagues is outside, so I guess it’s okay. Just continue here. I will go and check.”

Felicity hefted herself off the couch with a low groan and massaged the small of her back. At the start of the pregnancy, she had always rolled her eyes about women who were acting like that in TV. Now, she certainly wouldn’t judge anymore.

Walking into the entry room, Felicity shot a cautious look through the small glass part of the front door. It took her a moment to recognize the man at her doorstep as one of Adrian Chase’s colleagues. As soon as she remembered him, she opened the door though.

“I am sorry, Mrs. Queen,” he said, “but this was just delivered for you.”

Felicity saved the breath she would need to tell the man in front of her that her surname was Smoak-Queen. She just took the small parcel he was holding out for her and scrutinized it. It hadn’t been opened apparently which surprised her. Adrian had insisted on opening every post she got.

“Is Mr. Chase not here?” Felicity asked, looking past the security guy in front of her to find his boss. “When I saw him this morning, he said he was going to be here all day.”

“He had to leave for a brief meeting,” the man said. “Do you want this parcel now?”

Felicity doubted that the man in front of her had much experience in the security branch, at least when it came to personal security, but she nodded her head and took the parcel.

“I will be at my position if you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

The security guy went back to his car, and Felicity stepped back into her house. She walked into the kitchen, turning the parcel between her hands. There was no information about the sender. There was just her name and address written onto it with neat letters.

There was a part of her that knew it would be between to wait for Adrian to come back and let him check the parcel instead of opening it herself. This security guy had obviously not gotten the memo that any post Felicity received wasn’t just looked at from the outside but actually be opened to make sure the content inside wasn’t dangerous or even just threatening.

She knew she wouldn’t get a second of rest until she knew what was inside though. She grabbed the scissor from the topmost drawer of the kitchen counter and opened the parcel.

The first thing Felicity saw inside was an envelope with her name on it. The letters were written just as neatly as the ones on the parcel. With trembling hand, Felicity took the envelope. She turned it between her fingers for a moment and tried to feel what was inside before she opened it and took the card outside.

We are always getting close to each other. Can you feel it?

What Felicity did feel was the threatening meaning of these words. The fear they made her feel pooled in the pit of her stomach and spread all through her chest. It would paralyze her if it didn’t cause a wave of adrenaline to rush through her veins with force.

She grabbed the album that was lying at the bottom of the parcel. The sight of the cover alone, a white background with lots of red hearts on it, made her breathing falter. Despite the voice in her head that told her that she should just hand this to Adrian without spending another minute with this new gift, she opened the album and started looking at what was inside.

Her breathing stopped completely now, and her heart was pumping so quickly that her entire body was shaking from the force. Her fingers trembled so much that she was barely able hold the album. She tightened her hold on it quickly.

The album was full of photos of her and Mae. They were getting out of the car and talking in front of Verdant. They were strolling down the street, hand in hand, to get some ice cream after school. They were standing at the window in Mae’s bedroom and looking at the stars. They were standing at Robert’s grave, hugging each other tightly and so much more.

All of these photos had been taken in the last few days since Felicity had returned from Gotham. They had been taken from right outside this house or somewhere in the Queens’ forest or even across the street from Verdant. Whoever this was, he was so much closer than Felicity had thought he would be, and he was that close to her the entire time.

The other thing there was no doubt about was that whoever did this couldn’t bare the thought that Oliver was a part of her life. He was cut from photos, or his face was burnt out when it was more in the background. It wasn’t any less threatening than the first part.

There wasn’t just a person out there who stalked her. There was a person out there who stalked Mae and her, a person who had come so close to her daughter that he had managed to take photos of them in their home. The same person seemed to have trouble seeing Oliver anywhere close to them.

When Felicity’s legs started trembling, threatening to give out right under her, she quickly put a protecting hand to her bump. The baby was moving strongly, probably feeling his mother’s restlessness. Felicity tried to take in a deep breath, but she couldn’t. Her lungs were unable to take in the air, and panic spread in her chest at the feeling.

“Felicity, I think we need your help in the living room because your whirlwind of a daughter is-“

Felicity turned around, looking at Laurel. Shock was written onto her stepsister’s face as she must make a terrible image.

Before Felicity could say anything, black dots started dancing in front of her eyes. She tried to grab a chair to sit down, but her legs were already giving out under her.

“Felicity!”

Laurel’s worried shout was the last thing Felicity heard before everything blacked out.

@fannaz @promiseyoullbepatientwithme @bytemegeekette @felicity-said-just-in-case @phanseptiic @orangeisorange @mspotatohead14 @whentheheavenfades @emmaamelia95 @smoakingskye @seaolicity @ourwritinginvein @1022bridgetp @felicityqueenforever @leagueofolicity17 @yryssss @myhauntedblacksoul @muslimsmoak @sherlock44 @sinceriouslybea @arrowsalways @olivyflavescentdeer @olicitys-castle @ofnothingcharming @vaelisamaza @smoakedandcharmed @alexisa1206 @mysaudadespt2 @florence-bubbles @addictiontelly @queens-of-arrows @memcjo @hysterical-for-joshifer @oswinelevenforever @olicitylovemaking @bandanab310 @mymusiclove101 @lynslogic @scarletqueen23 @olicityshipper19 @alex-wesley @arrows-4ever @unabashedlynerdypatrol @louehmysoul @ligiapimenta @chattyyana @charlie-leau @coal000 @samcrowleys @ishippolivia @julianegomesqueen @malafle @miriam1779 @charlinert @melaux @ontheolicityship @myshipperlife @wrightainsley @lexi9515 @ladygreenwood @multi-fandom-crazy-fangirl @morinamel @mje-thomas @kebarry @canadianheartgirl @nannett2307 @almondblossomme @paarti12 @kathrynelizabeth89 @imdfabulous @cutearrowgirl @mrt2501 @mecha1330 @arsipaci14 @mzminx @salasvia @brandis91 @cainc3 @morganmiguess @pr0fessi0nal-fangurl @iamisalima @nessafra @jonhdiggle @niki-is-amazing @universed-posts @hopeful-warrior @senoritaswiftie @bellemmie @green-arrows-of-karamel @iheartarrow @olicityovereverything @oliverfel4 @navyaarsha @fandoms-breathe-life @simone4mcswarek @olicity-in-the-heart @fullychippedcreation @geemarie @everything-but-normal-cat @myarroworld @tjmartinez @pleasantfanandstudent @itsmagnoliagirl @j69confessional2 @scentedcolorpirate @icanica74 @javinancupil @tjmartinez98 @certainmentalityface @tatianadamaceno @ryelew @wildwillowzepplin @missafairy @letsplaymurde-r @lipizette @positivepiper @nuttymilkshakehologram @laksagirl @turnupthemusicandscream @pumpernickle93 @onceuponanolicity @1106angel @jaspertown @fadinglands @morganashimi83 @mochababychristy @omglovechrissie @mariejr88-blog @thetaufactor @onceuponanolicity @speakandseethetruth @bri206 @aglasgo @thats0klaroline @geemarie @pineprincess @nerdgirljen @peterpanslostgirl666 @eternal-olicity14 @allyouhadtodowas-stay-stay-stay @lovelycssefan @tsseract @flowerandsunshine @dcnmarvelgamergeek @blondeeoneexox @monetsmark @soaring-cities @bb-olicity @mashamarty @rulerofsilence @erika-amber @felicity087 @i-claim-only-emily @pattid1 @westallenandolicityshipper @babyolicityandwestallen @nothingmorethanmyotps @kayleenyc @tonto16 @olicityfluv @olicitea1990 @olicity5ever @haahaaa2408 @pattid1 @faegal04 @24karatgem

(If you want to be tagged or untagged, just let me know. :))

#arrow #olicity #olicity fic #olicity fanfic #do you remember

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092219archive · 5 years

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i don’t see myself going to bed anytime soon and i have no real impulse control, i’m gonna... toss a bunch of headcanons here!!

so, because i got arash to 10/10/10 which if you didn’t see it, here it is again because i’m proud of him and love him very much:

just need to get his bond level to lv. 10!

at first, i didn’t really feel anything for arash? i knew i had him, i knew that he was in my chaldea because of how easy he was to summon.

but then i saw him so frequently used in fgo videos, whether it by for farming or for an actual strategy, and i noticed that he had more much more potential than i first thought.

i decided to look into his voice lines and study his character a little more, because i’m just a sucker for that kind of stuff. if you’re new here, it’s all i ever post or think about besides the incoherent, key-smash filled post.

and i thought he was your generic anime boy (he certainly looked the part) with a kind and playful personality, which he kinda is, but i realized that he’s a little? more than just that.

of course, don’t take my word for it because i haven’t studied his character that much as i don’t actively look for content of arash.

there’s also the fact that he appears in content with ozymandias so frequently that it’s hard for me not to think about him. i know there’s some backstory regarding them, both in prototype and in camelot, but i’ve yet to find a full translation of prototype and i haven’t gotten that far in camelot.

no, i won’t be watching a playthrough like i normally would because i want to experience camelot personally, even if it means fighting the knights of the round table and wanting to pull my hair out because i keep dying.

anyways, i read a particular comic where arash was fighting ozy, and he’s always described as a “hero of valor” (by ozy anyways), and he said something veeery specific that really struck a cord in me.

and that line was something like, “to be the one to shoot the sun down... i’m excited!” and at that moment, i knew, all platonic feelings i had for this man crashed. i hate it, but i’m also okay with it?

i’m still on the fence of just how my relationship with arash is and it’s borderline platonic (by my personal definition of a platonic relationship anyways).

in fact, i’ve realized that i’m much more touchy-feely with arash than i am with ozy. especially in my art. i’ve made it a joke.

“hero, why do they touch you more than me?” “haha, i don’t know. ☺”

because he really doesn’t.

i kinda have a bit of an au as well? and i might replace my archer in insertia to be arash instead, but... i haven’t been focusing too much on insertia as of late, primarily due to personal and time based reasons.

anyhow, i have a college au with most of my fate faves. it’s usually because my mind defaults to a college au whenever i think about arash and all that, for whatever reason.

basically, we’re roommates (oh my god, they were roommates) attending the same college. kiritsugu is my father figure, lancer cu is my older brother, ozy and i are? maybe in a relationship?, and arash is my Best Friend™.

those are the most important relationships! arthur is a good friend of mine, and we talk every now and then when we get the chance.

i’m also basing this off servants i’ve already summoned with the exception of ozy.

arash is extremely welcoming for when we first move in together. neither of us know what we’re doing, which is absolutely fantastic. but of course, when you put us together, arash is probably doing much better than i am in adulthood.

i don’t think i’d be that open about myself at first -- i’d be like.. approachable at most so that he doesn’t hate my company, especially if we’re gonna be living together like this. but he’s a fun guy, so it doesn’t take that long. i have an easier time talking to people who are more approachable and welcoming unless i’m intimidated by the person.

we talk and open up to each other more, and we kind of help each other with... whatever it is we need at the time. he’s a pretty motivated and hardworking dude, which is the complete opposite of me but he kinda pushes me to work on some things.

and eventually, i get really comfortable about him. i don’t know if you guys know this, but when i’m with people i’m just really comfortable with, i do the dumbest things. i tried to crack a joke while drinking something and ended up choking right in front of my friend for what felt like a long ass 2 minutes or something.

when i’m finished with classes, i go directly to arash and flop straight into his arms. he’s alright with it, and he kinda knows that it helps me feel a little more better. gives me energy! a much better alternative to consuming energy drinks and the not.

and i imagine i’d be like... a koala. you know. he’d be working but here i am, latched onto him like a baby koala.

a visual:

he doesn’t really mind and lets it happen, which i’m assuming is because he understands that i’m extremely comfortable around him? i don’t... touch people, or let people touch me regardless of what the relationship is like.

then i get back to work, of course. he kinda shows his own ways of showing his affection by giving head pats and the stuff, doing things with my hands, like measuring them for the 50th time.

“small hands! baby hands.”

he’s the epitome of surprised pikachu whenever i say some dumb shit.

i should draw that soon.

really supportive, especially on the harder days. he can go through times where he’s down because classes and life in general can get difficult. i try to be there for him whenever he’s feeling that way. it’s not bad where he forgets his basic needs like dinner and the not, but he has his moments.

overall, a really good roommate! i love arash a lot, and i’m really excited to read prototype and get through camelot to see him some more.

#eren chats #long post /#arash is... a good.................

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harrieatthemet · 6 years

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Okay so I got this idea the first time I listened to this song so bear with me. If you’ve ever heard “Over Now” by Post Malone then you’ll know what I’m talking about, but imagine Harry and y/n breaking up and they’re both really hurt about it but Harry puts up a front and that front becomes like really noticeable when they see each other at an awards show or something and Harry acts like he’s with another girl and y/n confronts him afterwards and they fight like scream but end up back together

LOVED THIS!! Took me THREE DAYS to get this done!! Worked so hard on this and I really hope it’s exactly how you wanted it babe. My fav blurb yet.

He’d see you. No, actually he’d heard you first. He’d never mistaken that laugh, and when he first heard it he’d subconsciously smile to himself. It didn’t matter how many weeks had gone by (21, he’d been counting), he could never not be able to hear your laugh over the clanking of glasses or obnoxiously loud chattering. He’d be mid conversation with someone, a drink in his hand as he’d partake in aimless banter, when he’d hear it again. So he’d subtly peer across the room, overlooking all the people that were jammed into the restaurant, just to see if he could catch a glimpse of you. That’s all he needed, he’d tell himself, just a quick peek at you. And when he did, when he’d finally catch a glance at your face as you’d turn your head around, he’d feel a few butterflies start up in the pit of his stomach. You’d look beautiful, even more so since the last time he’d seen you.

“Harry,” Jeff would chirp from behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder, “you okay?”

“Great, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?” He’d reply curiously, even though he knew why Jeff was asking.

“Oh,” Jeff would wipe the concerned look from his face, “was just asking, ‘cus, just ran into (Y/N) here and-alright, good.”

Harry’d have to withhold himself from asking Jeff about you. He’d wanna ask to see if Jeff knew how you were doing, how you’d been since the last time he’d seen you. He’d be itching to ask if you’d told Jeff if you were seeing anyone, but even if he had the balls to ask he didn’t think he’d want an answer.

Jeff would nod, kinda sorry he brought you up and a little surprised that Harry’d be so unbothered by it, before slinking back into the sea of people. Everyone was a little shocked when news broke that the two of you had went your different ways, and it really wasn’t plausible until Harry’d confirm with close family or friends that you had taken all your stuff and moved out. In the beginning, people would call or text and sometimes even swing by his house, just to see if he was coping alright. What seemed to be more shocking than the break up, was how suspiciously well he’d been taking things. He’d play it cool, and assure to all that asked that it ‘wasn’t a big deal’ or ‘I don’t really care about it’. But he did, he did care, and it absolutely was a big deal to him. It’s just that he’d put up a front, a good one at that, and had tricked everyone around him into thinking that the whole ordeal hadn’t affected him at all.

A few people would quiet down the lull of chatter, to give a speech for the engaged couple that everyone was here celebrating. At first, Harry was a little surprised to see you here. It then dawned on him that the two of you still shared mutual friends, and that it was you who had introduced him to the bride-to-be. It made him feel sort of guilty, that he’d come, because he didn’t know if you’d even want to see him here. She was your friend first, after all. He’d wonder if you’d even noticed him here, if you were stealing secret glances of him like he wad been doing with you. And when he’d see you, talking to a different person each time, he’d realize that you probably didn’t even know he was here.

You’d have to push through and sandwich yourself between a few people before you’d finally get to the bar. The alcohol seemed to be the only thing getting you through this engagement party, and as you realized your glass had been empty you’d b line it to the bar. And Harry would do the same, leaning against the wood of the bar stool as he waited for the bartender to refill his drink. Unintentionally, you’d walk up right beside him, swirling around your empty glass at the bartender to let him know you needed another of whatever you’d been drinking for most of the night. It wasn’t until Harry’d hear a familiar voice utter the words Margarita that he’d turn his head to the left. His palms would get a little sweaty when he’d lay eyes on your side profile, your hair tucked sweetly behind your ear and your earring catching the light. You’d be fidgeting with your straw, poking the bottom of the glass as you waited for a new one. His teeth would find their place on his bottom lip, nibbling on it nervously. Sure, he’d been good at keeping up the careless act, but he didn’t know if he could keep it up as well when he was standing right in front of you. And he’d be ready to kick himself for staring so long, when you’d turn your head towards his direction and his eyes would meet yours.

“Harry, hi!” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet, “Thought I saw you earlier.” and the soft smile you’d have tugging at the corners of your mouth made his chest ache.

“S’nice t’ see yeh.” He’d force an exaggerated smile, leaning in as you roped him into a hug.

He’d let out a content breath amidst the hug, happy that all the little things he adored about you still remained the same. Your hair still smelled like citrus, and he figured it was because you always had to use the same shampoo. And he could still smell the faint smell of vanilla, your signature smell that came from your favorite perfume. He’d pull back, and you’d chuckle, because his rings would have the tendency to get stuck in the ends of your hair after a hug.

“Been good?” You’d sigh contently, before taking your drink from the bartender.

“Yeah,” he’d lie, “been great.”

He’d lied through his teeth, sugarcoating it with a smile and a nod of the head. He couldn’t have brought himself to tell you how awful he really felt. He wouldn’t tell you that’d he kept one of your sweaters you’d left behind, that he’d hung it up in between a few of his suit jackets in the closet so he’d have a little reminder of you when he was getting dressed. He wouldn’t tell you that he’d still watch your favorite show, every Thursday night at 9, regardless of where he was or what he was doing. He’d choose to keep to himself about how, up until recently, it’d take him hours to fall asleep because he’d grown accustomed to the little dip on the opposite side of the bed. 5 months had gone by and he still hadn’t washed your pillow case, because sometimes when he’d roll over in the morning and he could smell what was left of your perfume, he’d open his eyes thinking you were there. And as strange as it sounded, it was comforting for him.

“How’ve yeh been?” He’d ask genuinely, studying you as you sipped your drink.

“Good,” you’d answer happily, “yeah, work has been crazy but- I’m good.”

Good, he’d think to himself. Not great, just good. He wondered if you had taken the breakup as bad as he had. You wouldn’t tell him that he’d cross your mind constantly, or that you’d stay up late at night and replay the breakup in your head. You’d keep to yourself about how you’d sleep in one of his old shirts sometimes, when you missed him a little extra. If he knew that you were just as miserable as he was, maybe he wouldn’t be acting so cocky and unbothered.

And maybe if you knew how upset he was, you wouldn’t be so put off by the leggy brunette that would come up behind him. Her hand would slide onto his shoulder, smiling politely at you before going on her tippy toes to murmur discreetly in his ear. He’d bow his head, nodding as she finished up whatever she was telling him. She’d disappear into the crowd, heading over to the table where a few people had sat down with their drinks.

“Oh, I didn’t- you’re here with someone.” Your tone would be brittle, as it was disheartening and a little maddening to see that he’d moved on so quickly.

“Christine, yeah,” he’d lie, again, “been seein’ her for a little.”

He didn’t mean to say it. He had only thought of it just before he blurted it out, in attempt to deflect the fact that he’d been moping about his house for weeks since you left. Watching your smile disappear, your face falling as you tilted your body away from him a little, he’d immediately wish he hadn’t said what he did. Nodding your head slowly, trying to get an understanding on how he had moved on so quickly, you’d suddenly feel the urge to b line for the door and get the hell out.

“S’good,” you’d exhale shakily, “you know what, I think they need me to do a toast.”

“Sure, yeah.” He’d nod, disappointment washing over him as you headed away from him.

You’d slink off, towards the opposite end of the room, settling into a chair. And he’d watch as you sat there, knowing you were uncomfortable as you would shift awkwardly in your chair a few minutes. Your shoulders would hang, sad and just a bit annoyed, your face stoic and reserved as you stared blankly at the newly engaged couple. He’d retreat to bis table too, sitting beside the brunette and contributing very little to the conversation being had by the people who sat around the table. And as the night would go on, and he wouldn’t see you go up to do a toast at all, he’d realize that you used it as a way to get away from. So he’d feel a little guilty, especially when you’d peer at him from your seat and see how his arm was placed, resting his arm on the back of the girl’s chair. And her body would be leaned into his a little, unintentionally because the table was so crowded. You’d be quick to snap your head back forward, a long sigh leaving your lips as your stomach would start to twirl just at the sight of them seeming to be cozied up.

His eyes would be on you, focus completely zeroed in, as you’d stand yourself up from the chair. His brow would furrow in confusion as you’d give the couple of the hour a kiss on the cheek, and he assumed it was you saying your goodbyes. His assumptions would be confirmed, watching you politely maneuver your way through the packed restaurant, as he’d realize you were heading to the coat rack to grab your things and head out.

He’d politely excuse himself from the table, abandoning his drink that sat on the little napkin, as his arm would retreat back to him and fall along his side. It’d take him a minute just to get through a few groups of people, getting frustrated as he’d have to give a little shove between a pack of men just to get to the other side of the bar. He’d frown when he’d see you fumbling with your coat, jamming your sweater sleeve into the long black coat. Maybe he should’ve let you leave, because it was obvious you were a little overwhelmed and flustered. Not to mention a little annoyed, he could tell by the way your eyebrows were binding and your lips were faintly pursed.

“Where yeh goin’ in such a hurry?” He’d ask casually, waiting for you to turn and look at him.

“Home.” You’d answer flatly, keeping your back to him as you wrapped your scarf around your neck.

He’d let out a nervous breath, trying to convince himself to walk back to his table and let you be. But he couldn’t, he didn’t think he could get his body to move. Seeing you, for the first time in 5 months, had brought him some comfort. And on top of that, it even made him a little happy. Putting up this front was getting tiring, and even a little hard at times. He was sick of acting like he didn’t care that you left.

“Didn’t even give y’toast yet and-”

“I don’t get it,” you’d interject, finally turning to look at him, “I really- it’s barely been 5 months. You’re already seeing people?”

“I,” he’d get flustered a little, stumbling over his thoughts and trying to figure out what to say, “m’not supposed to?”

“You can do whatever you want.” You’d laugh coldly, buttoning up your coat.

“Can I?” He’d hiss, “M’not allowed t’move on?”

“2 years,” you’d rebuke, “we broke up after two years and you’re already seeing people! After 5 months!”

“(Y/N),” he’d start, biting back on his lip as he tried to restrain himself.

“Two years, I mean, did it even mean anything to-”

“Yeh left!” He’d bellow, earning a few head turns from people.

Your eyes would flicker upon a few of the faces that were now staring at the two of you, cheeks getting hot as people sent you bewildered looks. Harry’d run a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath to collect himself. The coat boy would stand still, clearly uncomfortable and feeling a little awkward. You’d mumble an apology to him, shifting all your weight onto one leg as you stared at Harry in disbelief.

“Harry..” You’d sigh, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“M’not-” he’d exhale, voice quieter now, “Christine, she’s just a friend. Kinda a loose term, friend. Don’t know ‘er tha’ well.”

“Oh,” you’d nod, extremely relieved, “okay.”

“Been pretty shitty.” He’d laugh, relieved to finally have admitted it.

“Yeah,” you’d sigh, “me too.”

“Really?” He’d perk up a little, taking comfort in the fact that maybe you really were as bad off as he was.

“Yes,” you’d chuckle at his demeanor, “miss you all the time. Sleep in your tee some nights, well, most nights I guess.”

“M’so glad.” He’d breath, a puzzled look on your face, “no no I mean- no, that yeh been missin’ me. Been missin’ yeh too.”

“Like to hear that.” And you’d smile again, making him smile too.

“Let me take y’home.” He’d offer generously, before asking the coat checker for his coat as well.

“Home?” You’d smirk, watching him swiftly stuff his arms into the sleeves of his jacket, hoping home was his house.

“Our home.”

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