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vagrantblvrd · 3 years

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Cannot stop thinking about the whole bounty hunter thing, right?

So.

The one where Din - Very Tired and Very Put Upon Din - is tasked with bringing in this Utter Menace Luke Skywalker.

By a very lovely, very terrifying Leia Organa-Solo.

“...Alive?”

He doesn’t get the feeling as annoyed as Organa-Solo seems that she wants this Skywalker dead, but it’s always nice to get a confirmation on that one. Cuts down on confusion/dissatisfied clients.

Din is mildly concerned at the long moment of silence that follows his question - the scruffy looking man beside seems to be as well -

“Leia, he’s your brother,” said scruffy looking man says, and which Din is careful not to show a reaction to because what is wrong with these people???

Organa-Solo sniffs disdainfully, and if Din wasn’t so concerned at his precarious situation, what with being in the New Republic’s seat of power and all the armed guards and such, he’d be out of there so damned fast!!1!

But.

Precarious position and so on.

“If you must,” she finally allows, which makes the scruffy looking man drop his face into his hands and muttering to himself about marrying into a family of dramatic assholes.

Organa-Solo doesn’t react as if this is something that happens frequently, and anyway, none of Din’s business, so.

Din - Very Tired and Very Put upon Din - accepts.

Because there’s really no other choice when someone in Organa-Solo’s position of power “asks” him to do his damn job, right?

And then Din and wacky shenanigans in chasing after this Skywalker guy, right? Hopping from planet to planet and just a little too late to catch him the first few times.

He almost thinks Skywalker is toying with him - but then that time on some dusty little planet somewhere where he actually sees Skyalker, goes after him where the bastard realizes he has a Mandalorian bounty hunter on his tail?

And the guy is like :O! at first, which is vaguely gratifying/kind of exhausting?

(Gratifying in that sometimes the reputation Mandalorians have gained for themselves is helpful in this line of work, exhausting because, you know, they have that sort of reputation and it’s just. A Lot sometimes.)

Anyway.

After a chase though a bus marketplace and so on, to Din’s frustration and what is wrong with these people, Skywalker is laughing at him???

Escapes, because of course he does, leaving Din in a predicament involving annoyed locals and an fines and such for the damages incurred in said chase through a busy marketplace.

To Din’s surprise, Organa-Solo tells him she’ll handle the fines herself when he calls her to let her know per their contract agreement - that he’s finally made contact with Skywalker.

(Also the part where he was arrested and apparently there’s a note in his file/whatever that if something like this would happen whoever arrested him was to have Din contact her or some other plot convenient reason in which Din wonders what horrible thing he must have done for luck like this. Also. What is wrong with these people???)

After Din’s released and goes back to chasing after Skywalker he makes the unpleasant realization that he had no idea what Organa-Solo meant when she categorized Skywalker as an Utter Menace.

Chasing Skywalker was frustrating as hell before their little meeting, but afterwards when he knows for certain Din’s after him?

He’s a nightmare.

Sets up obstacles and distractions in the way now, people coming up to Din when he’s this close to catching the bastard on some planet and being all soft and scared and in need of help a Mandalorian bounty hunter like Din can’t say no to?

Stories laced with tragedy or quiet sorrows and there was a man - nice young man - who said he was a friend of this bounty hunter who’d be right after him who could help. They don’ have a lot of money, but would gladly give what they do have to Din if he can help and it’s like.

He can’t say no to them, now can he? Not when he sees the look on their faces and hears their stories and as aggravating as Skywalker and this whole...nonsense to do with him Din’s caught up in, some things are more important.

And if Din catches Skywalker’s eye across that crowded marketplace and sees this odd little smile on his face, something to it that Din has to look away from like Skywalker knew Din wouldn’t turn someone in need away the way he should, because Skywalker is right there and Din’s a bounty hunter, well. That’s a thing that happens sometimes.

(The same way he’ll catch a glimpse of a hooded figure in black at the edges of a gunfight/shitshow Din gets himself into helping whatever person Skywalker’s tossed his way this time lending Din a hand before disappearing in the smoke and chaos once everything’s over.)

Thing continue on like that for a while until Din catches up to Skywalker on some planet somewhere. Tracks him to the ruins of what looks like a temple of some sort and they get ambushed by other bounty hunters hired by Imperial remnants and then it’s working together to not die horribly.

Trudging through the jungle to get back to their ships after wacky shenanigans and death-defying escapes and such.

Skywalker amused about something the whole time, not even putting up a fight or trying to escape, which is just. What is wrong with these people???

Skywalker just shrugs when Din asks, odd little smile on his face and laughter in his eyes and -

“Go to sleep, Skywalker. We’ll be at the ships in the morning.”

Which they do, and Din’s giving his a looking over suspecting sabotage or whatever because that would be just his luck after the last few days - weeks, months, however long since he was brought before Organa-Solo and her consort/husband/???

Skywalker’s sitting at the edge of the clearing they’d both used o lad their ships, sitting on a fallen log, face turned up to soak in the warmth of the sun and looking so.

Serene, content.

Like he’s not been caught by the bounty hunter on his trail after nearly being taken/killed by another set of bounty hunters and Imperial remnants and Din knows, alright, he’s known for a while that this isn’t his usual kind of job.

Never mind it was given to him by someone like Organa-Solo, just. Skywalker and the kinds of messes he stumbles into that Din inevitably stumbles into as well.

Din stares at Skywalker for a long moment, and sighs.

Annoyed at himself because something about Skywalker and his everything and Din is so, so annoyed at himself as he tosses the keys to the cuffs Skywalker’s wearing and walks away from the whole damn thing.

“Hey!”

Because maybe Din tossed said keys at Skywalkers head, but that’s neither here nor there.

Din doesn’t look back at Skywalker as he goes into his ship, sure as hell doesn’t look down at him watching Din take off, leave his damn bounty behind because he knows that would as much a mistake as having taken the bounty in the first place.

He contacts Organa-Solo, tells her he lost track of Skywalker and pretends he doesn’t see the knowing look on her face or hear the quiet breath of laugh before she tells him it’s what happens when someone tries to bring someone like him in.

Tells him he can keep what payment she gave him in advance, that she’ll send him the rest and good luck with everything else and that’s that for the bounty, perhaps they can work together in the future sometime.

He doesn’t trust it at first, of course, suspects a trap or some other trick, but as time goes by he realizes none seems to be in store for him.

And then he goes back to Mandalore, because he’s got a kid waiting on him, and also the whole...Darksaber bit and anyway, anyway, he’s got a lot going on in his life.

Months later, though, and he’s...somewhere...kid asleep in his arms and some drink or other in front of him in a quiet little bar on some quiet little world somewhere and a hooded figure in black takes a seat across from him.

Has this odd little smile on his face when he pulls his hood down, eyes taking in the tiny green gremlin of a kid in Din’s arms.

Din himself.

“You know,” Skywalker muses, amused about something. “I never did ask what my sister offered you to being me in.”

He says it like it’s nothing, like it’s normal for his sister to place a bounty on his head, to ensnare someone like Din to go after him.

No threats, nothing overt, but. She’d known he was quietly asking around about Jedi, and it wouldn’t take much to find out about the tiny green gremlin of a kid, and there’s no running when someone powerful as Organa-Solo has you in her sights. Better to swallow his pride and do as he’s asked than refuse outright for the kid’s sake if nothing else.

(But. After he told her he lost track of Skywalker and that knowing look of hers, the promise he’d receive the rest of his payment, she’d also offered to help him in his search for a Jedi, which. Yes.)

Din stares at Skywalker because really what is wrong with these people???

Din sighs, quiet little thing, and looks at the kid asleep in his arms. Watches him for a moment, always too much in his heart for a tiny green gremlin of a kid, and then he looks up at Skywalker.

There’s a moment, and then a quiet breath of laughter from Skywalker, so much like his sister’s.

“Ah,” he says, and then -

“I could help, if you’d like.”

At which point Din is like what, because the whole Skywalker is a Jedi, and also his sister is devious.

“...what.”

She heard about a Mandalorian asking about a Jedi and looked into it while Skywalker was gallivanting about the galaxy seeking out Jedi relics and the whatnot. Worried about her idiot of a brother and knowing full well he could handle himself, but still.

Idiot of a brother, but also idiot of a Mandalorian and it was her way of gauging what sort of threat Din was to her idiot of a brother.

“What.”

Sure, she’d heard stories that said Mandalorian wasn’t all bad, but still.

Bounty hunter???

Skywalker just laughs, soft and fond, like hey, no, sending a bounty hunter after her brother is just a thing she does sometimes.

Really though, what is wrong with these people???

Anyway, for reasons unknown to him and against his better judgement, Din goes along with Luke to some remote planet somewhere. The guy says he can help with Grogu, deliberately, infuriatingly, vague about the how of it, but Din goes anyway because he is, indeed, an idiot of a bounty hunter.

And then he finds out Skywalker’s a Jedi.

Skywalker.

A Jedi.

“Uh...I thought you knew?”

Din did not.

Skywalker frowns, clearly thinking back to all their encounters and wacky shenanigans from months back and has this “Oh,” moment, before he gets this sheepish look on his face.

Din carefully doesn’t sigh as he watches Skywalker, no.

“Yes,” he says, carefully pulling Grogu’s hand away from the leather strap across the front of his armor. “’Oh.’“

For the first time ever Skywalker apologizes, and Din is just.

He, too, is thinking back to their wacky shenanigans and all the grief Skywalker caused him and that’s when he sighs.

(What else is he supposed to do?)

“Can you teach him?” he asks, Grogu reachig for some flying insect fluttering by and Din keeping him from falling without a second thought.

Sees the way Skywalker’s face goes all quiet and soft, smile kicking up at the corner of his mouth.

“I can,” he says, like it’s just that simple a thing.

Din has to look away for a moment, too much in his heart at the moment, and Skywalker laughs and just.

Yes.

And then awkward flirting and overtures as Skywalker trains Grogu in the ways of the Force and so on.

Also?

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” in regards to the Darksaber.

Din would be insulted, offended, if they weren’t at the edge of a clear, blue lake, sun setting behind the temple and little Grogu tired from a day of lessons and babbling to himself in Din’s arms.

But it seems like something not worth getting worked up about - he’s learnig to pick his battles with Skywalker, Utter Menace that he is, something his sister wasn’t wrong about.

"Hm,” Din says, and lets Skywalker convince him into getting saber lessons from him, what with him being a Jedi and all, and very carefully doesn’t laugh as that would just encourage Skywalker.

And then, okay, then there are saber lessons and sparring and Skywalkers bright, happy smiles and laughter and Din isn’t completely useless with the Darksaber, you know. Manages to disarm Skywalker, pin him up against one of the old trees at the edge of the training ground Skywalker’s set up.

Utter Menace of a Jedi grinning up at him without the sly edge of the smirk that’s been on his face since they started training and little goading remarks. So it’s inevitable Din leans his head down to press his forehead against Skywalker’s, too much in his heart for him the way it’s been for a while now, and Skywalker’s quiet laughter in his ear and, Din thinks, it feels like home.

Also, though, also.

Luke deliberately avoiding awards ceremonies and other horrific events in which the Hero of the Rebellion is expected to attend and a very beautful, very terrifying Leia Organa-Solo contacts Din to task him with bringing her Utter Menace of a brother in to accept the honors to be bestowed upon him, he can’t keep running away like this. Please, Din.

“...Alive?” Din asks, because the clarification is important.

Leia gives Din a look that says she honestly doesn’t care at this point, but it’s become something of a joke between them.

More so when he hears Solo yelling a reminder from somewhere behind Leia that Luke is her brother, and the frustration on her face melts away.

“If you must,” she says, smile on her face so much like her brother’s.

Din, fond/terrified of Leia as he is, accepts. Tracks his Utter Menace down to some remote planet and the Jedi ruins he’s poking through and is like.

“Do you want to know how much your sister offered me to bring you in this time?”

Skywalker shugs, but there’s a quirk to his mouth Din recognizes as trouble.

“Do you want to hear my counter-offer, instead?”

Trouble, the way knew Din it would be, because Skywalker’s walking - stalking - towards him.

“No,” Din says, because he can’t be bought so easily, but then there’s Luke in front of him, confident and easy and natural as anything to let him get so close.

Luke’s smile slides into a smirk - Utter Menace - and the smugness is not endearing at all.

At all.

Stop looking at him like that. >:(((((((((((((((

(Din still brings Luke back, because Leia, but it takes a while. Because reasons.)

#star wars nonsense #dinluke #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#technically not a fic #vagrant fic #i have specific tastes #they tend to run towards ridiculousness like this #sorry???#long post #right side of the sun

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boldbrash-fandertrash · 3 years

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Ignore me, unless I’m right in which case I fucking called it

So I was rewatching the episode for the fourth time and one I realized that Remus is much much smarter than we give him credit for and two I can generally predict how the rest of the story is gonna go.

We’re gonna have another aside video with Patton and Janus before the big season finale, and that aside is going to be one of the most important videos to the general progression of the plot.

I’m sure you’ve noticed the pattern so far, two sides who diametrically oppose each other being forced to work together on a problem they vastly disagree about, usually turning the small issue into something much messier than it ever would be and them learning something about themselves in the process.

Each pairing exists to point out to the viewer exactly what issues exist with each side that need some form of resolving, and the big unifying theme amongst them is “you’re not listening to me”. Roman and Virgil dragging Thomas across the cafeteria in favor of or agains him talking to Nico, Logan and Remus deliberately ignoring and working to undo the others work in an attempt to break Thomas out of the depressive funk he found himself in. Nobody is working together here. The only side to even remotely cooperate with the group was Virgil body checking Thomas into Nico, and it took him and Roman bullying each other and Thomas for an entire video to even get to that point.

Watching Logan and Remus interact, one, brought me immense joy and I will be chasing that high for weeks to come, and two, after an ounce of critical thinking was frankly painful to watch. Any critiques Logan offered to Remus were immediately discarded with absurdity and any critiques Remus offered to Logan were discounted as absurd.

During the obvious scene at the end with the Eyes™️, Logan claimed he wasn’t pretending Remus didn’t exist, but honestly, he kinda was.

The Dunce Cap Scene really accentuates this point. Logan pulls a holier than thou, why won’t you learn I’m always right, bullshit passive aggressive remark, Remus does his dramatic repenting student shtick, starts singing directly into Logan’s ear, and makes a kink joke. Literally the words Remus sings are “can’t fix this guy, all by yourself”. Remus is saying this inches from Logan’s personal face and even still the logical side ignores him outright, because of all the fluff around the message. Hell, in Remus’s introduction video, Logan likens him to a screaming baby on a plane, essentially saying “well eventually he’ll stop screaming so just bear with it for a while and you’ll be fine”. He’s ignoring Remus outright due to a preconceived notion and missing out on valuable information because of it.

The dunce cap scene indirectly calls back to learning new things about ourselves, where Logan is completely unreceptive to the puppet bit because of its perceived absurdity and absolutely refuses to acknowledge any potential the medium might have for learning until he physically cannot anymore.

Remus is capable of, and does often, make valid points and offers genuine critiques of shit happening in their lives. In Forbidden Fruit, almost every single line harkens back to some idea the other sides had been trying, and failing, to communicate to Thomas. “Good and bad is all made up nonsense”, “if you shared those musings with your friends i doubt they would forgive you”, “why deny yourself knowledge, say, knowledge of yourself” “people don’t like me much, Thomas, but that only just cause I’m honest”, “these sorts of things are only thought in the mind of a man who’s soul is truly rotten.”

Despite all of this, he is ignored outright because of his medium. Just like Logan is ignored due to his monotone cadence and large volume of content, just like Roman is due to his flair for the dramatic and artistic display of ideas, just like Patton is due to his playful and childlike nature, just like Janus is due to his perceived role as the Villain, just like Virgil /was/ due to his perceived role as the villain.

They all have become accustomed to being stepped on by the other sides because of who they are and how they communicate, and have in turn learned some less than ideal methods of being heard again. Logan yells and gets passive aggressive, Remus ups the fear factor for everyone around him, Roman shuts down anyone who tries to talk through bullying and raising his voice, Patton manipulates the others into feeling guilt and covers it up with a smile, Virgil whips out the tempest tongue and incites fear in Thomas, and Janus physically silences anyone in his way.

And here’s why I say the next asides episode is going to be the most important one developmentally. Patton and Janus are going to be forced to work together. Patton, who is in the midst of an identity crisis, and willing to listen to any new ideas provided they offer a valid solution to the shit he’s found himself in, and Janus, who knows a lot more than he’s willing to let on, who concerns himself exclusively with Thomas’s self preservation, and loves to talk when given the opportunity. Janus is gonna have a thing or two to say to Patton when they’re inevitably faced with their moral dilemma, and Patton is going to be in just the right mindset that he’s willing to listen. And Janus is going to end up being right, and the small issue they’re facing will be resolved, which will therefore strengthen Patton’s trust, and his openness to changing for the better.

Patton is goofy, and childish, and kinda ditzy sometimes, and because of that we as a fandom tend to overlook any of his moments that are anything but that, but we are not giving this man enough credit. When Patton sets his heart on something, he throws his whole self into it, and is willing to stand up for his beliefs in the face of extreme opposition, and would gladly do anything in his power to defend his family. Once Patton decides that he’s willing to grow, and if he believes that this growth will help put his family back together, nothing can stop him, and that will be absolutely crucial for the growth of all the other sides around him.

Whatever him and Janus discuss during their aside will absolutely give Patton the information he needs to help stitch together the rift between everyone.

I predict the next official Sanders Sides video is going to be the longest one yet, possibly over an hour long, because there’s a LOT of work that is going to need to be done, and Everyone is going to be in it. The big issue of “you’re not listening to me” won’t be resolved, but it will be acknowledged in a serious light by everyone. We won’t be getting any appearances from the Orange Side I don’t think, that would end up just complicating matters even more when each character is already incredibly shaky in their own identity.

Something less than ideal is gonna happen between Thomas and Nico, he’s gonna summon the initial three to deal with the matter but the other lads are gonna worm their way into the discussion, everyone’s gonna start screaming at each other, and Pattons gonna do something that stuns everyone else into silence (I’m guessing he’ll start crying, considering the start of season two was all about him repressing negative emotions and what better way to show character growth than to sob openly on camera).

Once everyone just fucking stops for ten seconds that’s when the apologies start. None of the sides are ever the first to apologize, we’ve seen that time and time again. Their desire to be in the right as well as their pride will always get in the way, however if someone starts the apology train everyone will eventually follow suit. We see that in Alone On Valentines Day, My Negative Thinking, Growing Up, Accepting Anxiety, Fitting In, Moving On, actually in pretty much every video where an apology actually takes place, once one person apologizes the other will immediately follow suit.

Patton is gonna be a goddamn mess, he’s gonna apologize to everyone in the room for anything he thinks he may have done to wrong them, and that’s gonna be what gets everyone to acknowledge all the shit they’ve put each other through, and the others are going to jump between trying to console him and trying to apologize to each other. They’re going to come to the unified decision that they need to work together more on future issues, the group is all going to offer up a solution and decide together on a remedy to whatever happened together between Thomas and Nico, and that will be that. Season three will be about them finding the balance between stepping on toes and being stepped over, while also working out how the orange side fits into everything.

Thus marking the end of my rant.

I started writing this at 2 and it’s now 4. I have to be up in three hours. I have an essay due at 3pm tomorrow that I haven’t started, but instead I typed up all this bullshit. I hope any of this made any sense, and I hope this is a suitable replacement for my emotions essay that’s completely untouched because chances are this is what I’m presenting to my therapist tomorrow. Wish me luck.

#sorry for no page break I’m on mobile #I’ll be fixing that in the morning after some well deserved rest #thomas sanders #sanders sides #ts sanders sides #ts spoilers #ts patton #ts Logan #ts roman #ts Virgil #ts Janus #ts Remus #ts theory

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reki-of-the-valley · 3 years

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More bullet point fanfic by yours truly! - First kiss edition

I woke up at 4 am thinking of this and it's been stuck in my brain ever since. Watch me eventually write it as a whole ass fic

It's the weekend, a slow, hot day. Reki and Langa are in Reki's room, as usual, watching a mix between skating videos and dumb videos that make them laugh (and the occasional cute animal video they will inevitably come across). It's a slow, relaxing day, nothing out of the ordinary for them, except that they can't go out because it's just *too* hot

Langa's got his chin on Reki's shoulder, his eyes falling shut every so often. The heat makes him sluggish, but he refuses to go home where it's cooler or take a nap to sleep the heat away. He's adamant to continue watching what's playing on Reki's phone, even if the light is tiring his eyes

And Reki doesn't mind. He's never minded having Langa close, basically cuddled into his side. Reki likes it, actually. He likes having Langa close. He likes feeling Langa pressed into him, Langa's chin digging into his shoulder, Langa's hair tickling his cheek, Langa's bony elbow pressed into his side. Obviously it's because Reki is used to having people in his personal space. The twins when they cling to his leg, his mother when she hugs him, Koyomi when she's poking him.

So Reki doesn't mind having Langa close, falling asleep on his shoulder. At least, not until Langa is shifting, nose pressing against Reki's neck, the soft skin where no one ever touches him. And his warm breath is heating up Reki's face for a reason he can't tell. Or maybe he can, when Langa is mumble-asking if he can kiss Reki

Langa doesn't mean it. He can't mean it. Langa always mumbles out nonsense when he's half asleep. So Reki laughs it off awkwardly.

Except Langa's nuzzling closer, "please, Reki? Can I, please?"

Reki doesn't trust his voice, knowing it'll come out as a squeak, so he just nods. He has no idea what Langa is going to do, or what kind of kiss he wants, but Reki wants whatever it is, which is weird. Kissing the homies good night was just a saying, not an actual thing, right?

But when Langa's pressing a kiss to his cheek, everything fades away. It doesn't feel weird or wrong or anything. It actually feels nice. Reki likes it. Even if it's just a quick peck, Reki likes it. A lot.

Everything fades, everything goes hazy. Maybe it's from the heat, maybe it's from something else, but Reki's shifting, turning to Langa, Langa with his heavy lidded eyes, Langa with his pretty smile. Maybe it's the heat, maybe that's what's fogging Reki's everything, but something happens. Something happens for Langa to be kissing him, or maybe he's the one kissing Langa; he can't tell who started it. But they're kissing. And Reki feels like he's floating.

Reki is the first to pull away, gasping for air, but langa's chasing his mouth and Reki can't say no to that.

It's not Reki's first kiss - he had kissed a girl on a dare in 6th grade during one of those middle school parties - but it is the first time he was feeling someone's tongue against his lips. It is the first time he was gripping onto someone's shirt to hold them close as the kiss was deepened. It is the first time he was kissing a boy. And he.... Reki likes it. He likes kissing Langa.

When Langa finally pulls back, they're both flushed and panting. Maybe they had gotten a little carried away, but Reki doesn't care. He can't care, not when everything feels blissfully light

At least everything feels nice until Langa's eyes are blown wide open, scrambling to pick his stuff up, shoving them into his bag.

"shit, shit, fuck, I promises my mom I'd be home before dinner. Fuck, she's gonna be pissed. I'm so fucked-!"

And he's dashing off, Reki not even getting a chance to put in a single word. Something twists inside of Reki. Maybe Langa regretted kissing him, maybe that's why he was running away now. Maybe Langa didn't like it as much as Reki did.

They don't talk about the kiss(es). No one brings it up. Reki's too afraid to bring it up and Langa is acting like it never happened. They're both desperately trying to go back to how things were before, but Reki jumps every time Langa's hand brushes against his and Langa isn't leaning in as close as before when they watch videos during lunch at school. It's not horrible, but Reki can feel the tension, which can only mean one thing: Langa hated the kiss.

This goes on for a few days, the awkward no touching but still wanting to. It calms down a bit after a few days. Reki's a little less jumpy, Langa is starting to lean back in (not as much as before, but still always a little closer). They can sit shoulder to shoulder now, not quite touching yet, but getting there. That's how Reki finds himself staring at Langa, watching him eat, looking at his mouth. His mouth that had been pressed to Reki's only a few days ago. His lips so soft despite being chewed at on the daily.

Reki can't blame his actions on the heat this time. He can't blame anything or anyone except himself as he presses a quick kiss to the corner of Langa's mouth. He tries deflecting, finding excuses ("you had something and-!") but it's useless. There's nothing that can excuse his behavior

But Langa simply let's his head fall onto Reki's shoulder. He's not pushing Reki away. He's not telling him that it was wrong of him to do that. None of that.

"M'tired..." "It's the heat, dude" "wanna sleep" "wanna ditch and head back to your place? It's way cooler there" "only if you come"

Reki short circuits as soon as Langa's fingers are twisting with his, tracing the lines in his palm, not letting go.

"can we go? Not like we're actually going to listen to anything, even if we go back"

That's how Reki finds himself pulling Langa up, walking by his side until they're out in the yard and skating off towards Langa's place. That's how he finds himself coming to a halt in front of the apartment he's been in only a handful of times. They always go to his place, crashing in his room. They rarely ever go by the apartment.

Reki watches as Langa unlocks the door, kicking his shoes off as he set his board against the wall. And he follows his lead, though a little more careful, untying his shoes and setting them in a corner with his own board. It's a lot colder in here than it is in his room. The AC must be put to it's lowest.

"you want something? I think my mom bought cookies yesterday"

Reki watches as Langa pulls out more food - they just finished lunch, but Langa is a monster when it comes to snacks, no matter what time it is - before crashing into the couch. Reki follows, like a puppy. He isn't uncomfortable, but still. The environment feels new and he isn't sure how comfortable he should make himself

That is until he's sitting on the couch and Langa is putting his head on Reki's lap, a cookie in his mouth as his bright blue eyes are staring up at Reki. Blue like a clear sky, sun blazing down over the ocean

"I'm sorry," Langa says, holding up his half eaten cookie. "about the other day, I mean. I shouldn't have done that" "I'm sorry too. About- about earlier? It was dumb"

There's a beat of silence. Then Langa is shifting again, sitting up

"Look, Reki, I- I like you and I get it if you dont-!" "Really dude? Like, like like me?" Langa nods, though looking a little confused. "You can do that?" "Reki, you... You do know I'm gay, right?"

Reki did not know that. And when Reki is caught off guard, he acts dumb. That's why he's blurting out "you're gay???"

Langa's still staring at him in disbelief. "yes? I thought it was obvious?"

Apparently not enough for Reki to get the hint. "Oh my god. You like me. You like me. You actually like me."

"Look, you don't have to-" "I like you too! I mean," Reki rubs at his nose, laughing nervously, "i gotta, right? Since I kinda really wanna kiss you again?" "You do?"

And they're both laughing at each other, Langa's face buried in Reki's shoulder. Reki can feel the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, though he isn't sure if it's from the laughing or from how happy he is

Then Langa's shifting against him once again, look up at Reki with his beautiful blue eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

Reki doesn't answer him, only pressing their mouths together. Because of course Langa can kiss him. He's been thinking about it ever since it first happened

The kisses are slower this time. They're not rushed, not as needy. They take their time exploring each other, feeling what's comfortable, what feels good. It's new, the kissing, and they will have to find how to do it properly. But for the most part, there's more smiling than there is kissing

"Reki?" Reki hums against Langa's lips, not quite ready to pull back completely. "Reki, what does this make us? Does this make us boyfriends?"

The realization hits like a truck. He could be Langa's boyfriend. Never in a million years did Reki think that would happen

"yes? I think? I mean, I want to" "does that mean we aren't best friends anymore?"

Langa's eyes and big and wide and worried. He knows he shouldn't laugh, but Reki can't help it. He can't help but laugh, pressing a kiss Langa's cheek

"no, were still best friends, man. Nothing can change that. And I mean," Reki ducks his head, rubbing at his nose, "it's like what they say in all those Hollywood movies. You know, the cheesy romcoms? In those speeches when the main characters get married? That they're marrying their best friend? Not that were getting married! I didn't mean us-!"

Langa's kisses only got sweeter with time. A quick peck cutting Reki off before he fell into a panicked ramble. "I get what you mean. I just... I don't want to lose you. You're the only best friend I've ever had." "What about boyfriend?" "You'll be the last one."

Reki is satisfied with that. He's more than satisfied as Langa is pressing another kiss to his face, then to his mouth. How long had he wanted this? Reki has no idea, but now that he's got it, now that he's got Langa, he's happy.

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captain-hen · 3 years

Text

and some things you just can’t speak about

a/n: this is the product of me yelling at @evaneddie about what if buck remains in a state of shock the entirety of the next episode and only manages to process what happened once he realizes that eddie is okay, so...here you go i guess :p

tagging some people who might be interested: @malikjavaddzayn @buckstaylor @diazalex @buttercupbuck @matan4il (let me know if you want to be added/removed from this list!)

read on aO3

It happens like this.

Buck feels the warm splatter of Eddie’s blood on his face as he stands rooted to the ground, unable to comprehend the sight of the bullet tearing through Eddie, the way the other man holds his gaze for what feels like an eternity, a moment suspended in time. Even as Eddie hits the ground, Buck is still unable to move. To think. To feel.

He still doesn’t move, even when he hears Captain Mehta yelling at him to get down, even when the sound of the second gunshot ripples through the air. When he is tackled to the ground, he submits to it uncomprehendingly, cheek pressed to asphalt as he finds Eddie’s gaze meeting his, even as the pool of blood beneath him gets larger. It is only when Eddie breaks their gaze, his eyes falling shut, is Buck able to pull himself out of his stupor, a long, tortured gasp coming from somewhere deep within his body as he pushes Mehta’s arm off him, ignoring the man’s protests, stumbles to his feet and over to Eddie’s prone body.

Everything else seems to happen like clockwork.

Buck moves on autopilot as Eddie is loaded into the ambulance, feeling like a mere spectator to the scene even as he works with the paramedics, ripping open Eddie’s shirt, pressing his hand to the wound to stem the flow of blood. Still on autopilot, he watches mutely as Eddie is rushed through the doors of the hospital when they arrive and into surgery, away, away from him.

At some point, he changes out of his bloodstained clothes and cleans himself up, when Bobby arrives in the hospital with a change of clothes for him, looking anguished and ten years older as he claps a hand on Buck’s shoulder and tells him that he is so, so, sorry. Buck can barely register it, nodding numbly and moving away, feeling Bobby’s concerned gaze follow him.

Someone has to tell Eddie’s family what happened. Someone has to tell Christopher. And for a moment, when arriving at Eddie’s house and laying eyes on Chris’ guileless, unassuming face, he thinks he might break, might fall to his knees and scream to the heavens about the unfairness of it all.

But he can’t. He has to hold it together, for Christopher, if no one else.

“Your dad isn’t coming home tonight,” He tells Chris and feels his heart shatter even more—he didn’t even know that was possible—at the way his face falls. Holds him in his arms as he shakes against his chest with sobs. Ignores Carla’s worried looks and manages to say something, he doesn’t know what, to Eddie’s abuela, but clearly, it’s the right thing since she presses a hand to his shoulder and nods at him, tears in her eyes.

He has to go back to work. They’re a man down, after all and there’s a fucking sniper on the loose. He can feel Bobby’s eyes on him, worried about his condition to work, but Bobby doesn’t have to worry about Buck’s feelings getting in the way. Buck can barely feel anything. He can’t allow himself to.

And finally, it’s over, and the sniper is behind bars. Finally, Eddie is out of surgery and the doctors tell them he’s gonna make it. Abuela decides it’s better that Chris, for now, at least not see his dad until he’s awake, worried that the sight of Eddie unconscious in a hospital bed might frighten him. Chris protests, of course, but Buck and Carla back her up, knowing that there’s no need for Chris to be even more traumatized than he already has been.

It is almost midnight, and Buck is slumped in a chair next to Eddie’s bed, the weight of the exhaustion of the past couple days bearing down on him.

He thinks he might just make it…might just survive, if Eddie would just wake up. If he would look at him and get that bright, teasing grin on his face and say something to make him laugh. He can’t stand it, seeing Eddie in this hospital bed, looking so small and pale and washed out in the white sterility of the hospital room, not when he has always known Eddie to be so confident and larger than life, and so brilliant, shining even brighter than the sun, since the day they met. And if Buck could feel anything other than this choked up ball of guilt and regret and anguish that seems to be lodged in his throat, not coming out, not giving him any form of catharsis…just hanging in the midst of it unable to truly feel the devastation that he knows is somewhere encased in his heart.

Buck is pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a dry cough to his left. He snaps his head to the side and pulls himself up as he sees Eddie moving and automatically reaches out to steady him as he sits up. Eddie turns to look at him, confusion and pain in his face and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse.

“Buck?”

And suddenly, this is the moment that Buck breaks.

Everything that he had been holding back until now seems to spill out and he can feel the tears running down his cheeks and hears a low, gasping sound that he thinks, distantly, must be coming from him. He sways, fall forward towards Eddie, who meets him halfway (they’re always in sync, aren’t they), pressing their foreheads together. His eyes tightly closed, he reaches out blindly to touch Eddie’s face and feels wetness on his fingers.

Buck opens his eyes. Eddie is crying too, silent sobs that are wracking his entire body. He doesn’t say it, but Buck knows what he’s thinking. He almost died. He almost left Christopher. His family almost lost him, all over again. It was such a close call.

“Shh,” Finally finding his voice, Buck murmurs nonsensical comfort into the stillness of the room, tenderly brushing away the tears from Eddie’s cheeks, ignoring his own. Eddie is normally so stoic, so closed off and Buck knows what it means for him to be vulnerable like this. It is an honor. And Buck—Buck wants to take care of Eddie, even if he knows that the older man will inevitably try to push him away. He doesn’t care. He just…just wants to be here. In whatever way Eddie will have him.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Buck whispers, echoes of similar words Chris has said to him on the pier, a day that feels like from some distant dream. “We’re gonna be okay,” He repeats and presses deeper against Eddie, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to will it into existence.

They have to be.

#911 fox #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #neethu writes #otp: you two have an adorable son #speculation fic #911 spoilers #dailybuddie

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kovjiro · 3 years

Text

Out of My League - an Aran Ojiro x chubby female reader SMAU - College!AU

Synopsis: Commitment can be scary, especially when the only taste of actual commitment has come through your three best friends. An absentee father and cruel classmates can do that to you - no foundational trust in men, only sustained by male counterparts continually making fun of you for your size and weight. You’re ready for change, though, and maybe change will come; as you set out for university in a new city miles away from your horrid adolescence, change is inevitable. A chance at growth, at love, and new adventures await you in this new part of your life but, really, you’d never think to find this all with the upperclassmen you’d deemed out of your league.

Warnings(for this chapter): written chapter, self-deprecating thoughts, underage alcohol consumption, explicit depictions of being drunk, very much angst, reader is big sad (Refer to masterlist for complete list of warnings for this SMAU

Masterlist | Prev. | Chapter Four: friend | Next

“It’s Kiyoko and Yachi, right?” you call out over the heavy base and electronic beats blasting throughout the room.

Earlier that evening you made your way to Aran’s dorm, along with Suna, Osamu, and Atsumu. Upon arriving Aran announced to all of you that a few friends would be coming along, two members of his frat and their first-year friend. Aran had seen the worry on your face, however, and didn’t hesitate to come up to you and reassure you of your worries. “They’ll love you, hun, I promise.”

His words eased your nerves a bit but meeting new people isn’t always a fun experience - there is no telling when someone will judge you because of what they see. They had been nice enough at first meet so now, here at the party a couple of shots in and one drink down, you have the confidence to let loose.

“That’s us,” the tall one with black hair says, who you deduce is Kiyoko. She’s insanely attractive in a mature and sophisticated sense, her aura demanding respect yet offering a sense of comfort as well. Beside her stands a small blonde girl, who you’ve been informed is the first-year friend and her underclassmen from high school. Yachi’s demeanor is completely different from that of Kiyoko, looking almost out of place with her uncapped drink in her hand. Regardless, there is no ignoring how breathtaking they both are in their own right.

“Y/n, yeah?” Kiyoko counters before taking a sip of her drink. “Aran has told me a lot about you.”

“Really?” Don’t get your hopes up, for the love of all things sacred and holy, don’t break your own heart. “All good things I hope.” Kiyoko fervently nods as if to relieve you of any fear, saying, “Aran always speaks highly of his friends back home.”

Oh yeah, friend. It’s not like every time he’s come to your aid, every time he’s offered words of praise or encouragement, every time he’s held you close to his chest with your heart beats seemingly syncing together ever meant anything more to him - you’re just his friend, just like the many other friends he apparently talks so highly of. You’ve known this for years so why does it hurt so much?

Just as you’re about to respond, someone comes bounding up to the three of you. “They’re doing jaegerbombs over at the bar, you girls coming?” Speak of the devil… “C’mon, y/n, i know you can down those like a champ,” Aran pushes, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you to his side.

Maybe it’s the atmosphere of the cramped party filled to the brim with sweaty bodies bouncing and yelling, maybe it's the alcohol beginning to get to your head, or maybe it’s both and then some, but Aran’s presence is overwhelming and not in the good way. Where you’d usually feel over the moon to be near him you now find yourself feeling… annoyed? Upset? Absolutely devastated? In reality, though, you brought this on yourself because who could ever like you, the fat friend? Definitely not someone like Aran.

“Yup, that’s right, friend,” you say, mustering as convincing a laugh as you can. Not convincing enough because Aran cautiously chuckles all while squinting questioningly at you. “Yeah… friend.”

An awkward beat passes amongst the four of you but Kiyoko is quick to act, grasping your hand in one of hers and grabbing Yachi with the other. “Let’s get this party rolling, shall we?” she exclaims as she pulls you both to the make-shift bar the frat boys put together. As soon as she’s pulled you out of hearing range, Kiyoko leans closer to ask, “You good?” Her eyes convey just how much she’s gathered - you’re hurting.

What a horrible situation to be in - finding out your long-term crush only thinks of you as a friend in the midst of a night out. How will you get over this hurt, this heartbreak? Probably never. There is no cure for a broken heart.

But wait. There is. And you’re walking towards it right now.

“I will be,” you conclude.

In no time you’re standing in between Kiyoko and Yachi at the bar and what happens after is too much of a blur to make out. The first shot the three of you take together, the mixture of liquor and redbull hitting you in an instant. Your mind is running a mile a minute but it seems to be working - you’re numb. And so you have another, whatever it takes to forget why you were so upset a few moments ago. Two quickly becomes three, the same way three eventually becomes four then five then six.

In the haze that comes with being drunk you live the next moments oblivious to your surroundings. You miss when the twins and Suna join you guys right after Aran, you miss when Aran’s frat brother Sugawara appears and takes a shot with all of you, you miss - or perhaps ignore - when Osamu tells you to chill on the drinking. “You trying to die or something?” is what he says verbatim but his words don’t register in your imbibed brain.

What you don’t miss is Aran talking to a girl at the end of the bar and suddenly everything hits you tenfold - the hurt, the ache, the alcohol. Maybe if you weren’t so inebriated you would have noticed that he was only trying to help her out - apparently you aren’t the only person drunk off their ass at this party, who would have thought? All your mind can comprehend is that Aran is talking to someone other than you, a harsh reminder that you are - and probably always will be - the ‘friend.’

He comes to you then, speaking words you understand yet cannot comprehend, head spinning and vision blurring - maybe you should have listened to Osamu. He leaves you there at the bar and it crushes your heart all over again - didn’t he promise to be there for you? The alcohol has complete control of your body as you take a step in his direction but it’s as if the ground has moved out from underneath you. Two people are quick to your sides though and manage to keep you from hitting the ground. Who is that?

“Samu? Suna?” you manage to gurgle out, tongue feeling heavy and lips completely senseless. “No, honey, it’s Kiyoko and Suga. I think you’ve had enough for tonight, think it’s time to head home. Can you tell me where your dorm is?”

You know what she’s saying but your thoughts are jumbled, your dorm be damned. Where’s Aran? “I-I need to go- go see him,” you blurt out as you attempt to get out of their hold. You lose your balance as you take a step forward but they’re there to keep you from collapsing. They begin to drag you along to who-knows-where and you have no choice but to let yourself be carried, mumbling about how you need to see him and it hurts. It has to be the alcohol that’s making you spew nonsense, more so when you start crying because how could he only think of you as a friend, just a friend? Had it all meant nothing to him? Maybe you just misread everything, but you had been sure there was something there.

Or you’re the one in the wrong this time around, obviously, to even begin thinking Aran would be different. Every person you meet is unable to get past what’s on the exterior so why would this be any different? The idea of Aran reciprocating such feelings is an act of projection, simply put.

Your mind is a dark and negative spiral of harmful thoughts, reminding you of all that you’re not and why that is just not enough for Aran - for anyone, even. Yachi attempts to console you as Kiyoko and Suga place you on your bed? No, definitely not your bed. You may be wasted out of your mind but you’re cognizant to your surroundings that are in no way familiar at the moment. The three of them are able to reduce you from loud cries to soft whimpers in some time and eventually you’re all off to bed but you know deep inside of you everything will be different come tomorrow. How long would you continue being alright with being just a friend?

Credits:

raise your hand if you, too, have drunk your feelings and ended up crying

you've always held on to the hope that aran liked you too

he had always treated you differently than other guys

kiyoko, suga, and yachi>>>

taglist: OPEN! send an ask to be added :) AGE IN BIO PLZ

@szeonn @thatnikkixx @slutkags @roselleviennesstuff @bookiedoll @kris-1 @lucacangettathisass @serostapesweat @kiyokoism @ctrlaprilx @fantasycantasy

a/n: LONG overdue but here it is! i'm finally all moved in and got my wifi setup so ta-da :) i should go back to updating daily like i had been. i'm excited, it's about to get good >:) let me know your thoughts so far!!

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bubblyani · 3 years

Text

The Letter

(Melvin Purvis x Reader)

A Melvin Purvis One Shot

Fandom: Public Enemies (2009) Michael Mann

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6.6k+

Summary: The day when the FBI plans to catch John Dillinger, you finally write a letter full of undisclosed affections to Melvin Purvis, the love of your life.  

Author’s Note: Please note, this is all based on the fictionalized version of the character played by Christian Bale. It was a challenging concept but very happy with the outcome. Maybe I’m just “Bumping Gums*” but, hope y’all enjoy!!

“What are you thinking about?”

That familiar, male voice inquired. Cool yet affectionate; lingering in the darkness long enough for a female voice to hum before responding:

“Me? just things…” she began, her voice comprised of a much greater familiarity above all others, “Things I wanna say to you. I…” a chuckle arose, “It’s silly but…” she inhaled deep, “I just want to, write them down…for you”

“What?…like in a letter?”

“Uh huh!”

“Why? I’m right here” Her giggles seasoned his genuine curiousity,“It’s not the same. I…” she inevitably paused, “I’m just shy” as softness smeared over her tone. “Oh…” he decided to follow suite, “…somehow I don’t believe that” with his words exiting in the form of purrs, the two pairs of lips finally met. The kiss, it was chaste. Yet the sound remained crisp. And the shared chuckles that soon followed, were crispier. Audibly vivid at its finest.

Sheer pity, for it merely was a memory. Such a pity, for it vanished the very second your eyes dared to open.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

(1934)

A heavy sigh left your lips in disappointment. Arms folded, your right index finger wandered over your silk robe, in detail. It had no other option, especially when your lips could not indulge his own, when your eyes could not indulge the only loving gaze that truly mattered. Thus, there you were, running your fingers over the silk of harsh reality. Nothing to imagine, nothing to relive.

All the while you stood, staring at the door ahead. The door from where he just left.

It was a lazy afternoon, and anxiousness had found its way deep into your bloodstream. Woken nerves, uneasy stomach, the pounding heart with great speed and clarity. Harsh reality had turned to the worse, grabbing you by the shoulders, only to force you to stare deep at it.

Face the facts, it uttered. But which part of you wanted to do so?

Though being the sole occupant in the room, your pounding heartbeat did not fail to drown your very own hearing. This feeling, you despised it, to the core. If only it would stop.

Until it finally did. But only when you spun back around in a split second. For you decided to take action on it instead.

Planting yourself firm on the wooden desk, hands were occupied in the hurried dance as drawers were pulled, and stashes of paper were grabbed and dropped out before you. But once the hands found their way to a beautiful pen inside, all actions reduced pace. Holding it with care, your eyes grew warm by the mere sight. For the pen, it was a symbol of things a many, and one in particular. The one which cost you a heavy sigh, before opening the cap and let the pen make take its course on the paper. And just like that, you finally wrote down two words. Two out of the many your heart ached to speak into existence:

Dear Mel…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The sigh that followed soon after, was relieving. It was liberating. In truth, even a smile seemed possible. Hence, your intentions were clear.

“Dear Mel…” leaning forward, you read it out with warmth. For you were prepared to permit the ink to reunite with the paper once again, and linger on a little longer:

Looks like I finally found a reason to sit down and write this letter to you. Honestly, I feel like laughing, cause I never thought I’d end up doing this.  

Chuckling to oneself, you proceeded to write:

But I know if I don’t do this now, I would regret it. Cause now I finally know you deserve to read every last bit of my thoughts and feelings. All that I have hidden for too long. Before it’s too late.

Seeing you walk out that door wasn’t anything new. But when you did it this afternoon, it felt different. My heart, it felt something. It was heavy! That’s the word. Was I worried? afraid? I don’t know. All I know was that, it was too much. Enough for me to remember your effect on me.

Those words may have been generalized, yet you were astounded by the comfort you sensed when writing them. Inhaling deep, you kept on:

You were not a man I expected to ever meet in my life, Melvin Purvis. Never for one second. Out of all the folks here in Chicago, why would we ever meet? Whatever reason it was, I am very thankful. I am very thankful I opened my door to the hallway that night.

And I am thankful for Mr. Lloyd, and for that man in the navy blue coat.

Your words, they brimmed with sincerity. Looking up from the paper, you couldn’t help but stare into the wall. It was simply inevitable. Especially when every bit of detail began to flow into your consciousness, only to unfold the memory of that fateful night in your mind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chick Webb’s “Blues in my Heart*” playing in the radio, certainly did not fail to mirror your heart to perfection. For the melancholia was mutual. And the dim lights illuminating the apartment in the late evening, seemed to have sealed the emotion shut.

Memorable was your deep sigh, along with warm cup of tea that rested on your hands:

“I figured he, of all people would vouch for me, but instead he just…hung up” You remembered uttering, tone enriched with sadness whilst imitating a telephone being disconnected.

“Well…” a gruff voice began, “…if I were your Old man, I would never pull that nonsense”

You looked up, to set your eyes over at your neighbor Wilmer Lloyd, sitting across from you in his pajamas. A spritely gentleman in his late seventies, Lloyd was the friend, who in time became the father figure you wished you had.

Amused by his temper filled response, You chuckled with disbelief:

“Mr. Lloyd, your daughter had to move to another city, cause you didn’t like the fella she wanted to marry” you replied, “No need for the unnecessary kindness” adding with a smile, you proceeded to take a sip of the hot beverage.

“What kindness? she is no good kid like you. She married a goon*! ” Lloyd responded in defense, leaning forward with conviction, “While your Pops is just mad cause you’re trying to be a Secretary”

“I bet you a Lincoln* that my folks rather have me marry a goon, than have me find my own way of living” you said, gulping down the rest of the tea.

“Don’t jinx it, kid” the old man grunted, his index finger pointed right at you, “I don’t wanna hate you too”

You laughed out loud. Truthfully, you were relieved to have finally did. The room felt too depressing for too long.

“Alright, kid. I’m beat” the old man sighed, pushing himself up to stand with a grunt. “Goodnight, Mr.Lloyd” You stood alongside him. The two parted ways, with you making your way over to the kitchen, and your neighbor making his way out. As if it was so habitual. For a daily chat with old Wilmer Lloyd, was indeed habitual.

Your first proper encounter with Lloyd was a special one. It was only a few months ago that you moved into Chicago. Stressful work shifts and lack of friends led to an eventual emotional breakdown one fine evening. A seemingly noticeable one, which caused the usually moody Lloyd to peep through his door, only to find you bawling your eyes out in the hallway. The sight of you kneeling before your apartment door in tears, was more than enough for his cold heart to melt, and to voice his concern. All while he helped you gather the groceries that had fallen out of your brown paper bag.

“We all gotta start somewhere, kid”

That phrase of comfort, was the invisible handkerchief that wiped your tears that day. And as you rinsed the tea cup, that phrase managed to return to your consciousness, being an invisible hand to pat you on the shoulder. Closing the tap, you sighed with relief. For you were once again thankful for the good in humanity.

Until the sound of a gunshot attacked your ears.

Clinging on to the sink with a jump, you felt your heart beat out loud, and there was no stopping. Before any was comprehended, a loud groan soon followed, originating from the Hallway. Your eyes widened. Could it be?

“Mr.Lloyd…” you breathed, as your legs finally made you dash towards the door to open. You gasped out loud, the moment you found Wilmer Lloyd sprawled on the floor, shot.

“Oh my god!…” you whispered, kneeling beside him.

But Lloyd lost your attention for a slight second, for you caught the sight of a man disappearing into the right-side stairwell. The sight was quick and blurry, yet it was evident he was armed. And one particular color was prominent as he left.

The groan repeated, forcing you to focus on Lloyd once again. Which was most important.

“A-are you alright?” A meek inquiry was all that you could do.

“WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE, KID?” The old man answered in pain, shifting. Slight relief washed over you, when you noticed he was only shot in the arm. Perhaps it was your heartbeat, or a new set of pounding footsteps nearby. Either way, the sounds grew louder from the left.

“Freeze! Chicago Police-” A voice, a male voice cried out, only to pause, causing you to look over, only to freeze.

Lowering his pistol, a well dressed man stood, surrounded by two others. All in suits and fedoras, and all seemingly alarmed by the sight of you and Lloyd.

“Is he alright, Ma’am?” The first man inquired. “I’m fine. Jesus!” Lloyd responded with annoyance. The man nodded with acknowledgement. Although there was slight embarrassment in the his face, you were simply too distracted by the cool nature of his voice.

“I know this is the wrong time but…” the man uttered, “…but did you see-”

“The shooter? ” you began all the sudden, “…in a navy blue coat? He went that way” pointing towards the right, you added. The muscles of the man’s tensed face relieved.

“Thank you, ma’am…” he breathed, before making a dash, “Boys! Take this man to the hospital” his commanding voice trailed behind him, indicating Lloyd. All before he himself disappeared into the stairwell.

And to your luck, the two able bodied youngsters knelt over the old man to do the needful. “The bullet is still inside. He’s gonna be alright, ma’am”

“Thank god! You heard him, Mr.Lloyd” you said, “Let’s go”

“Eh…” Lloyd muttered, holding the wound whilst being carried, “Not that I’m overjoyed about getting shot, but I gotta say I’m more than happy to know I’m not gonna die tonight” he grunted. To which you finally smiled behind him:

“Not in a million years…”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The sound of loud sirens shattered your trail of reminiscence. Sirens, you gasped. For they suddenly brought you worry. Was he in trouble already?

Parting from the pen and paper, your hands pushed you to rise and scurry towards the window. Except you merely saw a youngster getting his ear pulled by an angry policeman, for fiddling with the police car siren.

You clutched your chest, sighing with relief to see. The fact that daylight yet reigned supreme was also sufficient evidence for you to rationalize your new-found relief. He was safe, wherever he was.

Returning to the desk, you picked up the pen. Glancing at it with affection, you proceeded to write once more:

Because of the accident that night, I found myself meeting a man who fascinated me instantly. So , you could understand how frustrated I was when I couldn’t even thank him.

You smirked upon those words. Not soon before you continued writing:

But then again, who knew I would have the actual luck to see him again two days later? At a place where I least expected. All thanks to a Bad Customer.

Akin to a Moving Picture, or a Talkie*, that very moment began to project into your memory. All the while your index finger managed to twirl a piece of your hair with nostalgia.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Apparently it was just some low level goon. Well, at least that’s what the Police told Mr.Lloyd…when they took his statement. But I don’t buy it, no. Why would those Federal Agents be there if it was?…”

You said, tying up the white, cotton waist apron over your baby blue waitress uniform.

“Goodness! I really wouldn’t know what I would have done if I were you, Sweetpea” Cathy, your best friend replied while she followed suite.

Once the hair was fixed, the two of you headed to the kitchen, “Everyone! Look who’s changed her shift!” Cathy cried out, urging the other employees at the Diner to focus on you. There were cheers, bringing out the brightest smile in you. It was official.

Living with the Great Depression which has affected all, you were grateful even for the employment at a Diner in the city. A temp job, as you called it yourself. Until that very morning, you were assigned to the later shift and spent several weeks parted from Cathy. Fortunately, upon your boss’ satisfaction, you were finally offered the shift you always wished for: The morning shift.

You graciously used the first hour that morning for familiarization, which mainly included the customers. And that was indeed the part that fascinated you. For the customers were diverse with each shift. And the mornings were mostly welcomed by blue collar workers.

“Cathy! They’re waiting for the pancakes”  “Oh! Shoot! I’m on it”

Listening to Cathy’s response in the background, you shook your head with amusement. You watched your friend waltz over to the eagerly waiting booth. But only before you made your way to the corner of the Diner counter.

“Can I help you, Sir?” A well rehearsed phrase exited your painted lips with politeness. A young man was the current owner to the corner seat. “A refill” the blonde haired drawled, indicating his empty, white mug on the counter. “Right away” “Thanks, Sweetheart” he replied, whilst the sound of the black coffee being poured, filled your ears. A group of eyes watched you from another corner. It was certain. And sure enough, your stealthy eyes caught the sight of some men sat across the diner. All sniggering. “Ya know…” the Blondie continued as he leaned forward, “my boys over there…” he indicated the suspicious group, “…they don’t believe me but, I think you’re one fine girl, sweeter than sugar” he said, flashing a flirtatious smile. “Oh, really?” You inquired with a polite chuckle. “Cross my heart, I hope to die” He was handsome, yes. But he was the handsome you never wanted. The type of handsome that could also break your heart. Besides, his attempt of seduction was misdirected, “So…um…” leaning closer, he began to whisper, “Care to help me prove the boys wrong? Like with a date? Or even a kiss? ” He inquired, his suggestive eyebrows being quite evident.

Oh, that fool, you thought. If you were at liberty to throw your head back in laughter, you would without any hesitation. Yet, it would not be appropriate.

“Ah! I’m sorry Sir, but I’m working” you replied.

“Aww come on!” He groaned, to which you shook your head and took a step back.

“Sorry Sir-Ah!” Except he grabbed you tight by the wrist. And displeasure was the mask he wore.

“Hey now, is that the way you treat your regulars here?” He inquired, increasing volume. Confused and very violated, your heart rate began to speed up. You sensed a threat.

“Let go, Sir!” You muttered in desperate politeness. Yet he did not.

“Why?” He sniggered, amidst your struggle to break free, “Whatcha gonna do, sugar?”

“I believe the lady asked you to let go”

That voice. A voice you could identify. A voice that forced you and Blondie to turn heads. Your eyes widened. Dressed smart and completed with his Fedora, the FBI agent from two nights ago stood before you both. Authoritative yet graceful, he sighed: “Pardon me for intruding, but I know a Regular won’t harass a waitress this way” he said in a casual tone, to which Blondie stood up:  “Yeah?” He snarled, offended, “How would YOU know about being Regulars, smart ass?” “Cause I am one” The Agent answered, before missing Blondie’s surprise punch, only to twist his arm within seconds.

Cries of pain erupted from the young man’s lips, until he was pulled close by the agent. You watched him whisper some words to Blondie’s ear, all before he finally released him. Confidence was nowhere nearby when the blonde man stashed some cash onto the counter, and stumbled towards his group of boys with fear.

You suddenly heard Cathy’s sigh of relief nearby:  “Oh, Thank god you’re here, Mr.Purvis” She said to the Agent, “You just saved my friend” she motioned towards you.

Finally you had the liberty to observe him. Tall and lean with sharp facial features, he possessed the handsome that comforted you. The handsome that formed potential in you. The handsome that attracted you. Sitting on the now empty seat, he flashed you a cool smile: “Melvin Purvis” he said, “I believe we haven’t had the pleasure…” It seemed he did remember you. You smiled back. “No, we haven’t…” you replied with softness, as you held up the pot, “Coffee?”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And who knew the man that fascinated me, would be you?

I am not ashamed to say, I was over the moon to see you again, Mel. Seeing you for only a few seconds in the hallway, clearly wasn’t enough for me. I was greedy. So greedy I was afraid to admit. But the moment I realized that corner seat in the counter was your usual spot, I knew my greed was not in vain. I was greedy, to get to know someone so badly. So, when you saved me from Blondie, you also saved yourself a spot in my heart. I just didn’t know it at that moment.

But I do remember when I finally did.

When one serves a regular customer long enough, certain facts become known. Be it their usual breakfast order, their favorite beverage, or the guilty pleasure one indulges once in a while. But apart from that, conversation comes into play as well.

I don’t think you knew how happy you made me every time we talked, even while you had your Eggs and Toast. Whatever it was, I enjoyed them all. All topics, from about the mouthy janitor, to the famous FBI cases, which were solved or ongoing. But I was also happy when you also had the time for me, to know about my crazy stories about customers in the late shift, or even just about myself. Which surprised me the most.

You finally became aware of the smile you wore throughout writing. Though you managed to relax your facial muscles, the smile remained at default. Thus, you kept on with your words:

Mel, you made me look forward to work everyday. And that was one huge favor. Waitressing was never this girl’s dream. Another job was. And you know what.

“I know…” you remember saying, as you wiped the Diner counter, “Secretary, A Nice Office…Even my own folks think it’s a silly dream for a girl like me-”

“That doesn’t mean its your truth” Mel, your calm, unfazed reply, those words shook me. You were right. You made me feel braver. You made me want to work harder. You made me feel like anything was possible. And that was when, I finally saw that special spot you had in my heart. Oh Mel, it felt like an earthquake in here. I was affected. I couldn’t even sleep that night. Cause that spot of yours made me realize, I had fallen for you. Fallen in love with you.

Placing your left palm over your chest, it did not take you long to relive that magical feeling whilst you wrote:

Suddenly, I couldn’t look you in the eye anymore. And I’m sorry for that. I may have looked busy with customers for some days, but that was me struggling. I was at a war with myself. A constant battle with my eyes to not care for you more, a battle with my lips to not tell you, how much I pined for you.

But as you remember, I finally did.

And the morning when you did, felt to be a landmark of your bravery.

Upon serving his breakfast, you retreated to the kitchen with haste. The fact you did not even acknowledge Melvin’s usual “Thank you” proved strangeness. Generally, when employees were seen standing at the back entrance of the Diner, one would expect them to be occupied with a personal matter, or even have a smoke break. Except, you simply longed for a break from him.

Seeing Purvis was torture. And that morning felt more torturous than ever. Your desire for him multiplied with every single visit.

Rubbing your forearms to fight off the spring chill, You took a deep breath. What was that you feared? Confessing your feelings? Or the mere possibility of being refused?

“What are you doing? Out here in the cold?” You gasped, looking up to find Melvin standing before you.

“I-” you paused, as Melvin took off his long coat, and slung it over your shoulder with no hesitation. A warmth protected you all the sudden. Was it the coat? Or was it him?

“Are you unwell?” He inquired. You shook your head, not taking too long to finally settle your eyes on his. And there it was: the speeding pulse, the torture, the multiplication of desire. Eyes growing wider with concern upon your speechless look, Melvin shot glances at both directions with stealth: “Is anyone bothering y-”

Only to be intruded by your lips pressed against his.

Oh, Mel! What did you do to me?

With a deep shudder, you kept writing: Why did your lips taste like the sweetest pie in all the world? I’m sorry if my ink turns messy here. It’s just that thinking about it, I just hope my heart won’t burst and bleed. Tasting that sweetness, I was ready to risk it all. Ready to accept the worst fear to come true.

You had a fair point. Especially when his lips remained unmoved throughout your kiss. Which forced you to move back quick, and blush with embarrassment: “I-I’m sorry…” you blurted, struggling with one’s movements as you handed over his coat back and turned to leave.  “No! please…” Melvin breathed, stopping you with his hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry…” he stressed, “I suppose I was just caught by surprise” with a chuckle soon after. “Believe me, it wasn’t planned” you chuckled alongside him, relaxing a little. “Although I was hoping…” he began, “If I could take you to dinner one night…” Your eyes widened, but your heart bloomed.

But life was kind enough to gift me a date instead. A date with the best man I know.

“Yes! You can…” you answered immediately, “And please…no need to call me Ma’am anymore, Mr. Purvis” you smiled. To which he smiled back with a hint of mischief, which seemed surprising for the 30 year old Agent:

“Then, there’s no need to call me Mr. Purvis anymore either”

A date that I had always dreamt about. Not with a boy, but with a real gentleman. It had come true. Were you reading my thoughts this entire time?

Bashful giggles erupted from your lips upon writing. It was a date to remember :The fancy restaurant, the fine dining, the stimulating conversation basked in soft jazz and candlelight. Watching and taking in every fine line that adorned his beautiful, statuesque face brought you pride.

Sitting with you, getting lost in our own world, it was no doubt that I was the luckiest woman in the entire restaurant that night.

“I had a wonderful time, Mel. Thank you” Your words were enveloped with warmth and sincerity.

It was late, and Melvin had brought you back home like the gentleman he was. Opening the car door for you, he surprised you with just a smile, no other reply. Which forced you to raise your eyebrows, evidently confused. Could it be that he did not share the exact sentiments as you? Were you not the woman he hoped for by the end of the night? Insecurity began to bubble up within.

“What?” You inquired with a nervous chuckle, “All night you were yapping away, but now suddenly cat got your tongu-”

He gently pushed you against the car. Just so his gracious hands could cup your face, and just so he could plant his lips on yours.

And I was also the luckiest woman in the neighborhood, when you finally kissed me right back.

Sweetness infused with softness, you needed not permission to be fueled with greed at last. For greed finally permitted you to wrap one’s arms around his neck, only to pull him closer. Those lips of his, they had tempted you from the very first moment. And when they finally voluntarily expressed their affection, you were more than ecstatic.

Mel, your kisses were magic. They made me wish if I had all the power in the world to slow down time.

And I felt the very same, when we finally made love that night.

That night, that mere memory. You would be lying if it did not manage to send chills down your spine.

Invitation for a nightcap was your only shameless excuse. For not a single cell of your being, wanted him to leave your sight. Not when he had lit up a flame of desire in you, a few minutes prior. You silently cursed all the passerby’s who forced you both to pull away from the kisses. The kisses that he started by the car. But what could you do? You were surrendered to the laws of love.

Thus, the mere act of turning on the Crosley* Radio, became an involuntary act of seduction. Rudy Vallee’s “If I had a Girl like You*” filtering out from the speakers, gave life to the entire apartment. And it did ever the same to you, tempting you to sway your body from side to side. But your body felt so much vigor, when Melvin gave up on patience, only to hold you by the waist, spin you around just so his hungry lips could taste yours once again.

Melvin kissed you, and you kissed him. Slow, articulate, these lips were making up for every day they did not touch one another. All those days full of remorse.

Thus, began a dance between the two lovers. Heated, passionate. A dance consisting of choreography that had existed within all of mankind. Did not matter if it was carrying you bridal style to the bed, or placing you on to the bed without a sound much louder than a mattress squeak, either way, Melvin’s presence exuded safety.

Pleasure and excitement were in a fiery alliance when you savored shedding every piece of clothing off his torso. Never once did you think seeing many layers would bring you so much arousal. Especially when his eyes had nowhere else to look but at you during. His eyes, they burned with desire. And you would be unfaithful to your honesty if you denied the loins that burned within you as a result. For it was evident how much you longed for him. How the hunger led you to provide him the attention he truly deserved with your touch and kisses.

Dressed, he was smart, authoritative. Undressed, he was god-like. And to hear his soft moans amidst your attention was a gift. A gift that aroused you further. Yet before your eager hands could fondle his hardened shaft, he flipped you with impatience to focus on you instead. His kisses were other-worldly, making sweet contact on your soft, naked skin, creating waves of untold pleasure whenever he peeled off each piece of lingerie. Naked you may have been finally, yet you were more than ecstatic with the new outfit you wore: him. The infusion of soft music, sounds of lovers moans and kisses while the bedsheets rustled, were indeed sweeter than nectar. Tantalizing enough for him to finally enter you. Arousing enough for you to accept him. Resulting in unity, love making, deeming soft as the moonlight that shone into the bedroom. Soft, yet impactful that every second remained carved in your mind fresh, like it was yesterday.

Oh Mel, how did your touch made me weak, but gave me power at the same time? How did you make every second of it worthwhile?

You wrote with a sigh, blushes occupying your cheeks. Not before you cleaned up your ink stained fingers, caused by your thoughts of pure distraction.

Why did you get me addicted to your loving? But most importantly, why were you the perfection I dreamt of all along?

Breathless, you would be lying if it did not take you a while to regain your senses. Re-reading the previous sentence written, you proceeded to give the letter further life:  

After that night, I wanted shout out loud from the rooftops full of happiness, I wanted to tell the entire city, no! The entire world of my blessing: My blessing to have a wonderful man like you, Mel.

The simple truth: that was all that it was. And not long since you and Melvin had gotten together, life was suddenly drizzled with an extra dose of joy. An extra dose of encouragement and hope. Work went better for the both of you. Even Mr. Lloyd managed to re-meet him, but this time with more familiarity and respect. Given his interaction with the Agent, it was evident the the older man had offered his blessing and approval, which meant more to you than anything.

Since then my life was bliss, Mel. With you by my side, I knew I could take on anything.

Except, you drew in a sharp breath with a heavy heart.

All until J Edgar Hoover declared those fateful words to America: War on Crime. John Dillinger.

The heaviest sigh left your pursed lips. For a surge of concern was powerful enough to consume you.

Believe me, Mel. Seeing you get promoted to Special Agent in Charge of the Chicago Field Office, it brought me nothing but joy. Seeing you in the papers, I was the most proud anywhere I went. But with that pride, and with that joy, I was also afraid. How could I not be, when you were assigned to catch Dillinger, Public Enemy No. 1?

How could I not think of the risk you had on your life? So afraid for you that it didn’t strike with me that we didn’t see each other for so long after.

Though you were out of sighs, your heart remained heavy with the thought. It was true, soon after his men’s lives were affected by Dillinger and his gang, Melvin did not set foot in your apartment nor in your neighborhood. And surprisingly, you did not feel betrayed. Not one bit.

When you phoned me that one time, I could tell in your voice. I could tell the weight you had on your shoulders. The burden, the responsibility, the guilt.

And to me, it didn’t matter I couldn’t see you everyday anymore. It didn’t matter that I had a hard time missing you or thinking about you. Be it at the diner, the streets, the park, the living room and the bedroom. It didn’t matter to me that I had to pretend my life had nothing to do with yours. All I wanted was for this nightmare to end: to stop the unnecessary deaths of innocent lives. All I wanted was for you to be safe. And I knew you could do it all. Without complicating things.

Thus, when someone knocked on your door a few hours ago today, your fear was justified. You remembered standing by the door, arms folded, only to feel your heart beat out of your chest. And when those loud, rapid knocks attacked the wooden door, you could not help but wonder: Could it possibly be one of Dillinger’s men? Another shooter perhaps? Were they aware of Melvin’s connection with you? Were you about to be leverage?

But to your surprise, you opened the door regardless. Clutching your chest, you could only gasp.

But I never thought you’d suddenly come crashing in this afternoon.

For there stood Melvin Purvis, Fedora at hand, heavy panting accompanied.

Never so soon.

“You were not at the Diner” he said in a hoarse tone, still panting. “I-I took a day off” you answered, with wide eyes,“Mel…” you gulped, taking a step forward “What’s wron-” To which he could only reply with rough kisses, slamming the door shut behind him.

And being in his arms again after possibly endless days and nights, you were certain you did not wish to be anywhere else.

It was as if fate urged me to stay home today, just so I wouldn’t miss your hungry kisses. Just so I wouldn’t miss your love. Something I craved for what felt like forever.

Longing translated into desperate kisses, where tongues wrestled in haste. And passionate lovemaking rushed in soon after. The type of passionate, that demanded every item of clothing make quick stops in different parts of the apartment, only to lead a trail to the bed. The type of passionate, that had his eager hands wander over your naked back, before palming your heaving breasts with impatience. All the while you straddled him, with your hips rolling against his. The type of passionate, that tempted you to gaze into his shining eyes. For they spoke to you, even in silence. How he treasured you, how he savored you, his eyes said it all. And with your responding kiss brimming with moans and emotion, you acknowledged his silent confession, you satisfied his hunger, and accepted his peak of pleasure. All until a new climax was reached together, before collapsing on to the bed with exhaustion.

“Mel…” you panted, sweat further infusing with his, “You still didn’t tell me what’s going on…”

It was only a few minutes later, did Melvin began to speak. Only then were you able to find out about the mission that would happen tonight. The mission to finally catch Dillinger. And as if the floodgates just opened, he kept talking. And all you could do was nod, as he continued to cradle you in his arms.

Little did I know, you came to me in possibly the most fateful day ever.

“You think it will work? The plan?” You inquired, soft. His responsive hum vibrated in his chest. “The source is solid…” he replied, “So…we’re betting on it”

Lifting your head up, you looked at him. Truthfully you could not help but feel sorry. There was a hint of exhaustion in his tone. How far did this man go to make this mission a reality? How many men were sacrificed in the process? Death of many men including Carter Baum, his own partner. Feeling useless, you knew you could only offer him a reassuring soft smile:

“Then it will…” you murmured, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. His skin seemed magnetic to your lips, causing you to proceed with more kisses. Over his eyebrows, bridge of his nose, and finally his lips, the best place of all. With another greedy peck, you pulled yourself away and sat up. With the afternoon breeze playfully caressing your exposed frame, you were tempted to reach out and grab your silk robe tossed on the edge of the bed, which you did.

“I hope you know I couldn’t risk seeing you, with Dillinger’s men on the loose”

Melvin began. Looking back, you nodded with nonchalance. “Of course…” Wrapping the robe around, your answer was as casual as taking a diner order, “I understand” you added meek, looking down at the knot.

“But…that doesn’t mean I was never here”

You froze. With wide eyes, you looked up at his sitting frame. “What do you mean?” You blurted. Only to gasp, “You-w-were you-?”

Melvin nodded, “Every night around bedtime, from the street…looking at THAT window…” he said, indicating the very window in your bedroom. If only you could just tell him how your heart just began to melt after possibly weeks. If only you were capable of an embrace that told every fiber of his being how moved you were by him. Melvin sighed, running his fingers through his hair:

“I just had to make sure you were safe…” he said, “But today, I…” he paused, “I couldn’t stay away”

“And neither should you…” you replied in an instant, cupping his face, “….you’re only human” you continued with a sigh, “It’s been too long, Mel” your voice grew softer, “ And I missed you” uttering weakly, you proceeded to press your forehead against his. And like that, you both stayed, indulging in the silence with the most innocent physical contact possible.

“This mission…” Melvin began, his warm breath falling on your face, “If I make it out alive-” “Mel, you WILL make it out aliv-” you breathed, before he placed his fingers over your lips.

“If I make it…I’m yours”

He whispered, forcing you to freeze once again. Overwhelming emotion seemed to have frozen you with disbelief, when his sharp features unveiled the softest smile, “As a man, I want to do what’s right for the people” he said, holding your chin, “ I want do what’s right for my heart. And I wanna do it all with you, by my side, always”

And in the blink of an eye, you left through that door, hours before our lives could possibly change forever.

No wonder you made love to me, as if it was your last.

Sniffing, you placed a loving kiss on the pen. For it was the pen Melvin once gifted you with. The pen he hoped you would use when you finally become a secretary. And it did not take long for you to wipe the tears that streamed down your cheeks in silence. What will happen tonight, at the Biograph Theater will end in either two ways. And all you could do was to pray for one in particular. Pray for the one you desperately needed. With another final sniff, you continued to write, until you found yourself finally finishing off the letter you never imagined yourself writing. You wrote your heart out, which left you no regrets:

Before I end this letter, I want to ask you a question.

Do you remember when I was helping you put your tie back on, minutes before you left?

When I did, I felt something. Something warm, something nice. And I won’t lie, I enjoyed it. Cause in the end, it gave me the feeling you always gave me from the moment I met you: Hope. But today, that hope was also protected by a layer of love. A strong layer. To be able to put your tie on possibly every day, would be an honor I’d wear like a badge for life.

Mel, you WILL make it out alive. You and your men, you WILL get it done. Because this letter will be waiting for you. Because I will be waiting for you.

Ready to have more hope, ready to do more good, ready to live our truth, by your side, always.

With love,

Yours forever…

——————————————————

Glossary of 1930′s Terms/Slang Bumping Gums* - 1930’s Slang for “Talk about nothing useful” Blues in my Heart* - Jazz song by Chick Webb and his Orchestra recorded in 1931 Goon*- 1930’s Slang for thug or bodyguard Lincoln*- 1930’s Slang for $5 bill Talkies*- 1930’s Slang for Movies Crosley*- A Radio Brand famous in the 1930’s If I had a girl like you*- Jazz song by Rudy Vallee, recorded in 1930

——————————————————

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red-talisman · 4 years

Text

An unbetaed snippet of post-CQL canon Yunmeng reconciliation, which is mostly extremely morbid and blunt conversation after beating each other hard enough that they’re too tired for their usual conflicting modes of emotional avoidance.

EDIT: now edited and posted on AO3. :D

CW for past suicidal ideation. Part of my “let WWX express some of his cynical humor and creepiness more often” and “let WWX find out about JC’s own sacrifice goddamnit” agendas.

___________________

Jiang Cheng stares blankly into the trees, their trunks slowly disappearing in the deepening darkness of twilight. Wei Wuxian’s back is warm against his and heaving for breath just as heavily. He thinks his ankle might be broken, but Wei Wuxian is probably worse off.

“You’re an asshole,” Wei Wuxian says thickly.

“Hypocrite,” Jiang Cheng mutters without heat, and Wei Wuxian manages a snort between his gasps.

“Yeah.” After a moment, he adds, with an echo of the old Yiling Laozu in his voice, “You know that if you ever do something like that again, I’ll probably find a way to do something worse than I did before.”

“If I do what, save your life by pulling the same fucking sacrificial shit that you do?”

“I swear to every god out there that I will bring you back as a fierce corpse and kill you myself,” Wei Wuxian says in a pleasant, albeit still somewhat breathless, tone. “I will dismember your carcass and make Jin Guangyao look like a fucking amateur.”

“Good thing Mo Xuanyu’s core isn’t worth shit, then,” Jiang Cheng replies. All of his attention is focused on the feeling of his brother’s bones and muscles moving against his own spine.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause. Somewhere distant Jiang Cheng hears the panicked yells of what’s probably the juniors they left behind a few li back. Then Wei Wuxian sighs. “We’re really fucked up.”

Jiang Cheng takes his time considering and discarding several possible responses. His ankle hurts like a bitch; Mo Xuanyu’s core may not be worth shit, but damn if his asshole genius brother hasn’t figured out how to make the most of it anyway. He finally settles on a tired, “Yeah.”

The silence stretches on long enough that Wei Wuxian goes on, more quietly, “You and Shijie are the only reason I didn’t die in the Burial Mounds. The Wens grabbed me before I knew whether or not you’d even survived the core transfer.”

Jiang Cheng tilts his head just enough to glance briefly over his shoulder. “How did you survive the Burial Mounds?”

“Nope, no, I’m not putting that on you. Not even Lan Zhan knows. I can’t...I can’t do that.”

“Fine. Then tell me, is any of it going to come back and bite us in the ass at the worst possible moment?” he asks dryly.

Wei Wuxian snorts, humorless. “Nah. It’s all mine.”

“Would you tell me if it wasn’t?”

When Wei Wuxian hesitates for a few telling seconds, Jiang Cheng mutters, “You fucking asshole.”

“Yeah.” Wei Wuxian sighs again.

“You left me.”

“You didn’t need me.”

“Who the fuck said that?”

The knobs of Wei Wuxian’s spine are starting to press painfully into Jiang Cheng’s. Wei Wuxian snorts. “I was practically a fierce corpse myself when I dragged myself out of the Burial Mounds. Your position as sect leader was too precarious,” he says bluntly. “You were seventeen years old with no real family, a sister who was getting married off anyway, and an adopted brother who’d been controversial years before the war even happened and who was clearly half-mad and getting worse. And I...my mind never really left the Mounds, honestly.” He coughs, makes a wet sound, and spits. “If I stayed much longer I was going to end up dragging you back into Hell with me. I was a risk you couldn’t afford and I wasn’t going to destroy Yunmeng Jiang a second time.”

"Don’t pull that bullshit, Wei Wuxian.” Jiang Cheng is so, so tired. “Mother was wrong. You know Wen Chao was looking for any excuse. You’re as responsible for that as our shidi was for using a round kite.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t respond. Jiang Cheng makes a mental note to beat that nonsense out of him in the future, when he can lift his arms again and his ankle isn’t most likely broken.

But Jiang Cheng remembers what it was like to try turning weapons, human and sword alike, into tools of peace. There are still whole weeks of the Sunshot Campaign that are just smears of sense-memory: the cacophony of screams and curses; the reek of mass funeral pyres and the soft ash drifting through the air like black, silent snow; the startling warmth of being suddenly drenched in blood after Sandu sliced open another living human. Half the time he’d come back to himself laughing hysterically, unable to see anything through the tears on his face, and as the war dragged on, the tears eventually dried up. It had taken months afterwards to settle into the mindset of rebuilding for Lotus Pier. (If he’s honest with himself, he never really did settle there. There's always a part of him still dragging itself through mud made by blood spilled on battlefields and churned up by soldiers' boots.)

“Jin Ling’s the only reason I never actually killed myself after you died,” Jiang Cheng says. “...Don’t you ever tell him that.”

“Wait, what?” Wei Wuxian snaps.

“You saying I would’ve died without a core - it was never about not having a core, you idiot, not really.” Not to say that hadn’t hurt, and Jiang Cheng really doesn’t know how he would’ve managed life as a commoner. But there were still worse things to lose than a core, which had also just lost and was about to lose yet again. “I had a few ideas on how to do it, depending on where I was and what was available when I decided I might as well get it over with.” He huffs a brief laugh and idly rubs his thumb over Sandu’s hilt. “I thought poison might be a good option, if a little heavy-handed on the metaphor.”

“I’d be laughing,” Wei Wuxian says flatly, “if you weren’t talking about killing my little brother.”

“Am I?”

“You never stopped.”

The silhouettes of the trees start to blur in Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “You left. You left, and everyone died, and somehow I was responsible for keeping our sister’s baby alive while the wolves tried to eat what remained of our sect from every direction. You left.”

“I never wanted to.”

“But you did.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe.”

“Because you chose strangers over family.”

“Because I didn’t see any other way to keep you safe,” Wei Wuxian hisses. Apparently they’re not so exhausted that they can’t get pissed after all. “I was hardly human anymore, Jiang Cheng. If I was going to die, then at least I’d die actually managing to save innocent people this time around and you would be safe from me.”

“I never wanted you to do that for me!”

“And I never wanted you to do that for me!”

The tension that had them both struggling to sit up straight suddenly breaks, and their backs collide again. Jiang Cheng grits his teeth against the urge to groan over the pain that ricochets through his chest and down his limbs. He hears a muffled yelp from behind him.

“You’re a damned fucking asshole and you’re my fucking brother and I hate you and don’t you ever assume you know what I need again, do you understand me,” snarls Jiang Cheng.

“You’re the damned fucking asshole and if you ever do that again then I will brand a reminder into your flesh right over the scar from the discipline whip,” Wei Wuxian snaps back, because he's never held back from fighting dirty if he thought it necessary.

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

They both stare into the dark forest, in opposite directions. It sounds like the juniors have finally picked up their tracks. Useless, the whole lot - Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian hadn't exactly been subtle in stepping aside for a private conversation that inevitably escalated, how could it take the kids this long?

"Those dumbasses had better not forget that we're on a night-hunt," he says.

"Like we did?" Wei Wuxian replies.

"You started it."

"Did not."

"No, I'm not doing this with you."

"Hey, you started this one."

"Shut the fuck up."

They fall silent again. A cold breeze picks up and Jiang Cheng feels Wei Wuxian shiver, pressing back just a little more firmly against Jiang Cheng for warmth, and he...leans back too. Just a little.

"I'm still fucking pissed at you," says Wei Wuxian.

"And I've got years' worth to pay you back for," says Jiang Cheng.

"Fine."

"Sect Leader Jiang!" they hear. "Senior Wei!"

"If you don't show up for the mid-autumn festival," Jiang Cheng suddenly says, "I'll come drag you out of the Cloud Recesses by the heels."

"But the dogs - "

"Don't be an idiot. Jin Ling's dog is the only one allowed in Lotus Pier, you know that."

Well, come to think of it, Wei Wuxian probably doesn't know that, but whatever, now he does. Wei Wuxian is terrifyingly silent, but before Jiang Cheng can say something that will inevitably bring them back to throwing fists, he hears a quiet, "Yeah, okay."

"Do you think they killed each other?" they hear Lan Jingyi asking loudly. "I mean, Sandu Shengshou versus the Yiling Patriarch - who would win?"

"Don't be an idiot," retorts Jin Ling, and Wei Wuxian's body briefly shakes with a laugh. "My uncle, obviously."

"They're both your uncle, idiot!"

Jiang Cheng just sighs and lets his head fall back against Wei Wuxian’s shoulder.

#jiang cheng #wei wuxian #yunmeng bros #yunmeng reconciliation #through inappropriate and blunt conversation #this is not Trauma-Informed (TM)#i just wanted to vent some of my own feelings about them both #jukebox fic #mdzs

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delimeful · 3 years

Text

Healer

warnings: feeling trapped, vague experimentation, pain

fifth part of my minecraft au! for this chapter, we jump back to the past! to a first meeting :)

Patton had been walking for a long, long time.

He wasn’t sure where, or why. When he tried to recall, his thoughts would slip out of reach like sand through his fingers. The world was blurry and indistinct, and no matter how long he wandered in the dark, nothing grew any clearer.

The light burned, and the water drowned, and he walked.

Occasionally, a creature that was different would appear, and he would amble along after it with a single minded focus. He’d never caught whatever it was, despite the frantic urging in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he did catch one, and that scared him as much as he could be scared, these days.

Perhaps he was right to be scared, because the next time he found one, it threw something at him!

The glass-shatter impact didn’t exactly hurt, but then there was a wetness left behind, and his limbs abruptly felt heavy and slow. The creature easily stayed out of range, but oddly enough, it didn’t leave.

No, it made sound after sound at him, staying close enough to draw him after it for much longer than any other he’d encountered.

And then, quite suddenly, he didn’t have space to walk anymore.

It took him a few moments to understand what had happened. There were cold metal walls around him, trapping him in a cell barely big enough to pace in.

He didn’t like it, the smallness. He didn’t like the way the strange creature came back again and again, close enough to make his mind turn to that strange violent urge. He especially didn’t like the creature’s glass-and-wet creations, and all the feelings that came with them.

… It was new, remembering things long enough to dislike them.

Over time, the creature’s voice became familiar, too. It would often chirp in excitement or groan in frustration. Sometimes, after a glass-and-wet test went wrong, it would come closer than usual and mumble in a way that made Patton’s chest twinge oddly.

The creature was particularly excited today, making those noises nonstop as it flitted about on the other side of the bars. It hummed the little tune that meant it was going to use a glass-and-wet, and Patton was surprised to find that he remembered this one, the way it made his balance go wobbly.

Unlike before, something cold and unfamiliar was pressed against his mouth. At the creature’s insistence, he consumed it, and immediately regretted as a sudden burning spread through him from the inside-out, as though he'd swallowed the sun itself.

Hours or days passed in a slow, roasting agony, and then, finally, it was over.

When Patton came back to consciousness, he was laying down, and everything was dark and numb. Not quite the dark of night, though.

There was a shuffle nearby, and he turned his head to the sound. He couldn't move very much.

“Ah. It seems you’re awake.” A presence settled at his side as he slowly processed the words. “Can you tap your pointer finger twice for me? It is alright if it takes some time.”

It took longer than expected to remember where his hand was, and longer still to force the space where his fingers should be into feeling. The taps ended up being more like small flickers, but there was a sense of accomplishment nonetheless.

“You—!” The presence cut off sharply, a sudden tension in their words. “Please, could you repeat that action? Two taps, no more or less.”

Patton’s brow wrinkled slightly in focus, the motions coming easier.

Tap. Tap.

There was a ragged inhale, their voice suddenly wavering. “How about three taps?”

Exhaustion was pulling at him, but he thought the voice was familiar, and desperate, and so he managed three taps, almost on an even rhythm.

“It worked.” A warm hand gently settled over his. “It worked! I did it, you can— you can hear me. You can understand me.”

There was something distressing about the hitch in their voice, but Patton was settling back into heavy sleep, and he only managed to twitch his hand under theirs before going under once more.

There were more tests, every time he woke.

Some of them were easy! He would shuffle his feet, count out taps, figure out which limb gentle pressure was being applied to. Over time, feeling came back to his numb flesh, and movement became more and more frequent.

Some of them were more difficult. He’d lose time trying to form complex sentences, feel consumed by sudden fits of claustrophobia, shy away from the sensation of the sun’s heat. He couldn’t respond to even a single question about his past, and day by day, his memories of his time as… not-so-human faded away as well.

Through it all, the stranger who had introduced himself as Logan was at his side, giving him clear instructions and careful support on every task.

He’d learned a lot about the type of person Logan was, day by day. He talked to himself a lot, sometimes clear and sometimes dipping into a thoughtful mutter. It seemed like he’d been alone for a long time. He’d often make a noise of startlement when Patton responded to his rambling, be it through a tap or a simple hum. He always told Patton what he was doing before he touched him, and explained what he was trying to learn when he ran the tests. He kept odd hours but never let himself sound tired.

Patton knew a lot about Logan, but he still didn’t know what Logan looked like. He’d been wearing the blindfold since he’d first woken up out of the cage, and it was the only restraint-- if a strip of cloth over his eyes could be called that-- to remain after all these days. It was the one thing Logan hadn’t explained.

Physically, Patton felt stronger by the day. Emotionally, he wasn’t sure where he would go or what he would do when the tests stopped being necessary. He trusted Logan, though, and more than that, he wanted to help him, after all that he’d gone through for Patton.

He wasn’t quite sure if that trust went both ways, though. Not yet.

“Logan?” he asked, shuffling his shoulders up the headboard of his bed so that he was closer to sitting upright. He reached up to touch the blindfold. “This... off?”

Across the room, the familiar sound of Logan flipping through a book cut off sharply. There was a long moment of silence.

“At your current level of motor skills, yes, you could,” Logan finally settled on, words carefully measured and even. “However, while you are staying with me, I would prefer it if… if you didn’t.”

“Why?” Patton pressed.

Another pause. “I believe that if you see me, you might become… alarmed. And I have no wish to upset or frighten you, particularly while you’re still recovering.”

“Logan,” Patton said, both concerned and a little exasperated. “Not scary. Want this... off. Help?”

“... Very well.” Logan’s voice went stiff as he moved to sit next to Patton, and when his hands carefully unknotted the blindfold, they were rigid like he was tensing for a blow. His cold demeanor was somewhat undercut by the way he automatically moved his arm to keep the day’s light from blinding Patton.

After a few blinks to adjust, the first thing that came into focus was Logan’s hand, carefully loose at his side, and the white, jagged scar lines that marked it. A witch mark, clear as anything.

The next thing he saw was Logan’s face, jaw set harshly and eyes focused on him as though waiting for the inevitable reaction. He could have hidden the mark away, but he was baring it for the world to see, even though he was sure it would be rejected. His loneliness made a lot more sense, suddenly. Patton felt a fond smile pull at his lips as he reached a shaky hand out in greeting.

“Hi, Logan.” The familiar warmth and gentleness of that hand washed away any lingering doubts about his new, not-entirely-human friend. “Still not... scary.”

Logan’s face flickered through a few strange expressions, and wasn’t that going to be interesting, learning a whole new set of tells for him? When he spoke, there was a strange, distantly familiar tremble to his words. “You may be the only one who thinks so.”

Patton frowned at him, squeezing his friend’s hand a little tighter before a flicker of motion on the windowsill caught his eye. A high pitched noise erupted from him completely involuntarily. “Cat!”

The cat in question, a little creature with sleek black fur, eyed him curiously. Logan cleared his throat, reaching out his free hand. The kitty leapt down and ambled over to butt her head into the hand like they were two magnets. “Ah, yes. This is my familiar. Her name is Glowstone.”

The excitement was too much. Patton had to take a moment to compose himself, words tripping over each other and becoming garbled nonsense. He watched with a grin as Glowstone settled gently in her witch’s lap. “Two!”

“Sorry?” Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Two friends,” Patton told him, gesturing quite seriously between him and the golden-eyed cat. “A good start.”

Logan shook his head, unable to hide the little amused upturn to his lips. “If you say so.”

He did say so. And if Patton had his way, there’d be many more friends to come.

#minecraft au #sanders sides #ts logan #ts patton #My writing #writing #logan's witch mark is a lichtenberg figure!

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yanderecandystore · 4 years

Note

aye, Idk if this went thou cuz it Tumblr so: I know you say to hold request like this but I wanted to ask for when you started. Maybe a yandere Imposter with a s/o who is a medic for the ship. (It a weird hc that everyone has a job on the ship) So it time for check up other med stuff. The imposter knows that the check up/computer will out them for being an imposter but it a chance to finally be alone with its 's/o'

Oh boo, what I meant about holding asks was that I was holding an anon's ask in the ask box about Yandere Among Us so that I could remember myself to write about it.

You see, a lot of people asked for it so I decided to leave this one ask about it so I could answer it later when I had the proper chapter finished.

It's not that you guys in particular need to hold your asks about Among Us, you can send them! What I tried to do was try to send a message towards the people that wanted to see more of it, that I would be doing more about it really soon.

Also, this is a gorgeous ask! I absolutely love this headcanon. I love the idea of everyone having a particular role, but also being able to do multiple tasks as the whole spaceship is destroyed-

In my Among Us fanfiction, the role of medic is played by the crewmate White, but of course the darling can be a medic in this headcanon!

Also I'll leave the color of the imposter random and out for your imagination in this headcanon, because why not?

TW/Tags: y'all mind if I went a little more… risky? 👀 Cause I think the imposter would be happy to get some "special examination" by their darling- (slight nsfw ish? At the end??) // not accurate to the game but whatevs // yes, I'm tired and therefore mumbling nonsense! // some hard simping coming from the imposter //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Med-bae 👀 [Yandere!Among Us x Medic!Reader - Headcanon]:

So. This was a terrible idea. You know, when you said "follow me, I'll show you something cool!" they were expecting something more, well, fun?

This is not only not fun, but can also compromise their whole plan. You brought them to medbay to show them not only your favorite tech but to also convince them to let you check them out.

They were the only ones that haven't done any check ups and you needed to collect data from everyone and send it to the facility, ya know, to let them know that you're all safe in this unsafe spaceship.

"- Come on, we need to tell your family that you're healthy!"

"- I could just call them ya know?!" You two scream at each other as they're trying to hold themselves in the wall while you try to pull them inside your workplace.

Well, it could be worse, now that they think about it. There is no one here so…

"- Take off your suit and seat over there." You tell them while pointing at the examination table - "- I'll go pick some equipment, don't worry okay? It's just another checkup."

You tried to make them feel more relaxed by saying that, but they couldn't help but fear their inevitable demise. While you're gone they at least have enough time to change themselves to look more human.

Or at least to come up with something if you ever find out they aren't really the person you thought they were. Oh well, at least they can indulge themselves in the heavy amount of scent lingering around this room, it seems you have spent a lot of time here. In some weird way, this place does fit you a lot, maybe is their mind being easily infatuated by you, but the smallest of decorations or clues of you being here, like: a coat you forgot to pick up, some paperwork covered in stickers, a photo of you and what they presume to be your family.

They wonder if you miss the Earth as much as your entire crew. I mean, that would be unfortunate for them, how would they be able to accompany you back to your home? Wouldn't you prefer to stay here with them? Looking at the stars, with a long life supply of resources for a small family. It doesn't sound so bad right?

Yeah, of course it doesn't sound so bad, the only problem is that there are way, way too many people in this place! All of your crewmates take way too much of your attention and time, that is so unfair-

"- I'm back! Sorry for keeping you waiting." You said while entering the medbay in a hurry. Oh look, their anxiety has also returned! Oh goodie.

"- So, I'll do a couple physical checks and just make a couple of questions, and then I'll let you free okay?" You joke about it, no one really likes to do this, you know that, but come on! It's so simple and easy, and it's just to make sure everyone is doing fine.

"- How has it been this couple of days?" You ask coming towards them.

"- F-Fine I guess. Nothing really special, just the usual." The closer you get the hardest it is to control their heart. This is ridiculous, why does their body act like this at such a crucial moment? And why do I need to be so close in the first place!?!

You make their brains turn into mush.

"- I know this is going to sound cliche, but have you been eating healthy lately?" Oh my, their skin feels hot, maybe you should pick a thermometer! Hopefully they don't have a fever.

"- Yes, I think so." Well, would you consider eating your friends healthy? Probably not. They probably shouldn't say that out loud.

The checkup continues as "normally" as every checkup. Asking if they felt anything, if they have been staying active and eating the healthy options on board, and if they were having a generally pleasant week aboard.

Of course you probably won't notice how their face flush every time you touch or simply crush your fingers on their body, like I said, this is probably harder than any emergency meeting. Trying to keep themselves from creeping you out and from snatching you right there and then. Too close for your own safety yet too distant for their comfort.

It doesn't help that you question all the little oddities happening to their body. Why are they so hot? Why are they sweating so much? Why are they shaking so much? Are they feeling sick? Are they hurt?

No, no, no, no and no, dearest! All of these things are normal for them. That's their normal body temperature.

Oh yeah, and the shaking and sweating is just nervousness. This moment is so perfect, dearest.

Is absolutely perfect, no one can interfere. No one can stop them from being the center of your attention. No one can enter this room for now.

Of course, after so much "teasing" they couldn't control the soft purring emerging from their throats. I mean, honestly you weren't doing much? You're just so close and touchy that it was starting to provoke a new type of hunger inside them.

"- Did you… Did you just... Purr…??" You stepped back, they were acting quite strange throughout the entire checkup, but you thought they were simply shy about this.

' What the hell was going on? Why did they look like that? Why was their expression suddenly so malicious?' You thought.

Well dearest-

What would happen if… Well, the doors suddenly decided to not open? If these sound proof walls suddenly became useful for once?

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

I don't why I had such a hard time writing this, I think I might have adhd-

Or maybe I just really like procrastinating, idk lol

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere #sheep stuff #sheep's stuff #yandere x reader #yandere headcanon #yandere among us x reader #yandere among us #yandere among us headcanon #special delivery headcanons #special delivery request #aaaaah #yander alien #?#does it count?

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wispforever · 3 years

Note

if youre still doing the character thing, how about spirit or marie?

I sure am. How about Spirit And Marie? Both wonderful characters. I’ll do Marie first, then Spirit. Thanks for the excuse to infodump, really. You people are too kind.

Marie Mjolnir

My first impression of Marie was the same impression I get of most female characters in anime. It’s either “why do their clothes have to look like that” or “oh god here comes the obligatory sexist heteronormative romance”. For Marie, it was more of the second. They mention in the same episode she’s introduced that Stein is her “first love”, which told me that if she had a large place in the plot, her assigned male counterpart around which to orbit would be him. Though I’ve never read the Soul Eater manga, I believe they do end up getting together there (I could be wrong). Whatever the case, I was relieved that Marie’s and Stein’s relationship (though heavily implied to be romantic, at least on Marie’s side) was left open to interpretation in the anime. I’m just very sick of cool badass female characters like Marie being reduced to the man they pine after. So, I guess my first impression of Marie and my impression of her now are largely the same. While I appreciate the moments we get to see her strengths and ability to operate on her own, I do think that her character really suffers because of the whole sexist “oh gosh all I want is to find a husband and retire” “oh my I have to take care of Stein” like okay, I had enough at the cat girl smothering Soul with her humungo-tits. I had enough at sexualizing underage girls and women in general. I had enough at making sexual harassment a punchline. That being said, when we push all of the shitty writing to the side, I admire Marie for her strength and how she interacts with the children, Crona in particular. Which leads me to my favorite moment(s).

The relationship Crona and Marie have interests me the most, since I’m really drawn to the parallels between Marie and Medusa. As parental figures (and as characters), they’re about as different as you can get. As Crona’s mother, Medusa is obviously abusive. Along with being negligent, she abuses Crona mentally, emotionally, and physically. In general, Medusa is a person who doesn’t appear to value interpersonal relationships, putting it nicely. She instead is more focused on her own interests, often to the detriment of those around her. Crona is Medusa’s only immediate family (besides Arachne who she is estranged from), and so they suffer the most from her refusal to show even a shred of human decency or warmth. They suffer especially because they are her child, meaning they’re stuck with her essentially, and repetivie abuse between family members like a mother and child often becomes complex because of the necessity of having a parental figure in your life to support you as you grow up. Medusa teaches Crona that their boundaries don’t matter and that they are only good as long as they are useful and do as they’re told. This is what makes Marie’s influence on Crona so cool to watch. Marie is caring by nature, loving and nurturing by nature. Her very wavelegnth is healing. She is kind and does what’s right reflexively. Marie is the exact embodiment of what Crona always needed but what, even upon being rescued by the academy, still felt so foreign to them: unconditional love. Crona struggles to understand why the other kids helped them, why Maka felt the inclination to stop their battle and save Crona instead by trying to understand them, why the kids are still so kind to them even after everything. They do not understand that love is not a bargaining chip. It isn’t leverage in an argument. It’s not a tool for emotional manipulation. Love is caring for the people close to you, just because. Love for the sake of love. The other kids and teachers at the academy are the ones who are able to pull Crona out of all Medusa’s lies, and Marie is a Huge part of that. Even though I have greivances with this being the largest part of her character and what that implies for female characters in general, it doesn’t stop being so beautiful to me that she could help Crona heal in this way. Marie = best mom for the win

Most of the story ideas I have for Marie involve her relationship with Crona or Stein. Say, this covers my unpopular opinion too. I don’t like Stein and Marie as a couple, but I really enjoy writing them as friends, because even though I don’t really jive with them being together romantically, I think their dynamic is an interesting one to explore because they Are so different.

Getting into that a little bit more, I’d like to start by saying I don’t care if other people like Stein and Marie being a couple. That’s great doods, keep doing you. The fanart’s adorable, the meta’s fantastic. Whoever you are, SteinMarie shippers, ffs keep kicking ASS. This is just my preference and opinion. Zero shade in this house. That said, because of my frustrations about Marie’s character I discussed in the first paragraph, I don’t like the idea of her and Stein being together romantically. It’s really a classic sexist trope: the troubled man and his sweet nurse. I’m also just fed up in general with the hetero-nonsense, so there. However, they are both wonderful characters that I enjoy very much seperately. Also, I think it’s worth mentioning that I’ve only seen the anime, so I can’t speak for the manga as far as their relationship or Marie’s character in general.

Oh shit I accidentally already talked about this one lmao [see the second paragraph]

One headcanon I like to think about when I’m writing Marie is that she likes women (in addition to men or not) and she struggles with comphet. Just something interesting I like to think about. It’s really fun for me to take characters who have been written as pining or had 10 million failed relationships and be like “say what if they can’t find a husband cuz really what they really need is a wife”. I’ll talk about that more with Spirit inevitably.

Spirit Albarn

My first impression of Spirit, obviously him being a cheater, really came with a lot of distaste. I come from a family that was torn apart by infidelity, among other things, so it really rubs me the wrong way. However, his saving grace for me was that he genuinely loves his daughter. It appears that, whether it’s played for laughs or not, he just can’t find fulfillment in his romantic relationships. The reason is left up to the veiwers. Spirit, ultimately, is not just a shitty person, which is how most cheaters are protrayed in media. “Well, they cheated because they don’t care if they hurt people”, “they cheated because they are shit and that’s it”. That’s a fine explanation if you plan to do nothing with whatever character you’re describing, but Spirit is relatively recurring and is shown to be neither mean-spirited or emotionally unintelligent. It bothers me that his cheating and routine sexist behaviour isn’t taken seriously enough to be a subject that Soul Eater tackles and deals with. But that’s fine. I’ll just do it myself. At any rate, I still feel that same way about Spirit’s character, but I find it intriguing that he seems to genuinely want to become a better father and is actually a pretty good dad when it comes to his interactions with Maka. If Soul Eater had been brave enough to develop him more, maybe delve into the reasoning behind his impulsive romantic affairs, I think Spirit as a character could have been done more justice. It seems to me that he could be suffering from some of that wonderful compulsory heterosexuality that I mentioned before, then becoming confused when the woman he claims to love leaves him feeling empty. Rattling my gay little cage

When I think of my favorite moments with Spirit, I think of his moments with Maka, but I’m gonna hold off on that until I get to favorite relationship(s). In reference to what I talked about in the first paragraph, one moment I find really interesting when I’m thinking about my interpretation of Spirit’s character is the scene where he and Maka are on the roof talking. Maka asks Spirit why he cheated on her mother if he did, in fact, love her. He doesn’t appear to know the answer, and he doesn’t really understand how to effectively communicate that, though he was shitty husband, what he really wants now is to try and be a better dad. We hear his inner monologue, and he says something like “I love you [Maka] and your mama. That’s the truth. That’s the truth. That’s the truth.” Every time he says “its the truth” it sounds more like he’s forcing it. This is actually something that is SO strange to me. Even if I didn’t project a queer narrative on to the characters I love, I would look at this and be like “huh that is a Weird thing to say in that specific way”. Why does he say it like that? Why does he have to say it more than once? He’s only talking to HIMSELF. It isn’t like he’s trying to convince Maka. Why does he have to convince himself?? Could it possibly be because he’s reached a conclusion about his romantic/sexual orientation that he’s been trying to swallow his Entire Life??? makes ya wonder, doesn’t it, queers?

Just like I said when I talked about Stein, most of the stories I have in mind with Spirit center around that sweet gayness. But also, I like to think of ways Spirit could come to terms with his sexuality, how it might have affected him when he was young, his relationship with all these women, with his wife. I love to think about him being a dad at 18 and trying his best, but how much responsibility that must have been. Lots of great ideas when it comes to Spirit.

Um? unpopular opinion would be all the standard like I said with Stein lmao. “Oh no!” scream the heteros, “that they/them on tumblr is making Soul Eater queer we canst not allow that in our church!!!111!” But besides that, maybe even the fact that I think he’s redeemable?? Idk most everyone I’ve met thinks Spirit is funny at least and just calls him a dumbass and a slut (affectionate). Doesn’t mean anybody thinks cheating on your wife 56 times is okay so. I like this fandom, it’s chill here. My favorite is when I see my art tagged like “aw the stupid man and his crazy bf” like YOU ARE RIGHT

My favorite relationship when it comes to Spirit (besides Stein cuz if I start talking about them again I’ll never finish this ask) is the one he has with Maka. If you can call it a relationship lol. I guess I just find Spirit’s approach to Maka as a parent really refreshing. Not that the parents in other shows don’t love their kids or whatever, it’s just that the loving parent always seems to be paired with some other trope that makes their character hard to approach. especially in anime. Like the perfect mother who dies in the first episode, and we spend the rest of the show mourning her. Or the father whose love is somehow everlasting even though he’s never home. It’s really the fact that Spirit is even THERE that I love. He knows what Maka is up to. He talks about her. He’s invested in her life, and he loves her. All he wants is to spend time with her, and though he’s sad when she turns him down, he doesn’t push her. god dammit I just like a dad who actually loves his kids without all the usual strings attached like. oh my kids are a huge pain in my ass, but I love them in spite of it. oh i’m a man so can’t relate to my children in a meaningful way but i try. Get the fuck outta here with that shit. I want all the dads to get so happy when their daughters wanna hang with them that they throw up like Spirit. Give me the guy who loves his daughter so naturally, whose daughter is such a huge part of his life, that it doesn’t even occur to him stop trying even if she literally wants to murder him. That’s Spirit. jfc

To end with a cute little headcanon, I really love to think that when Spirit gets older and starts losing the color in his hair, instead of getting white or grey, his hair turns a pale pink color cuz he’s such an aggressive redhead. Wouldn’t that just be adorable? late 30′s, early 40′s, Spirit starts getting little pink streaks in his hair and then bam. Little pink old man Spirit XD

There ya have it. Thanks for the ask, and feel free to send more.

#Soul Eater #Ask #Ask game #anon #Marie Mjolnir #Spirit Albarn #this is wisp

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burning-clutch · 3 years

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Shielded From The Truth

Cross posted on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30441042 -.-.-.-.- Warnings: Mild wounds. Number two in the phic phight! When his parents put a shield up around Casper high to keep the ghosts out, and it means that Danny’s day hardly goes to plan. And he was so close to being on time for once too…. PHIC PHIGHT 2021 For team ghost! -.-.-.-.-.- Prompt by: Silverwing013 Danny's parents have kindly offered to set up a ghost shield generator for Casper High. Hijinks ensue as Danny attempts to handle the situation.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Danny groaned as he only half listened to his parents rattle off whatever ghost nonsense they were going on about as he ate his breakfast. A bowl of dry cereal because the milk was contaminated and he really didn’t want to chance it giving him more than a stomach ache. This had become the norm this week it seemed as his parents seemed invested more than usual into the ghost shields that they had been working on and improving.

Why only shields? They would be installing one in the school soon… but beyond that? He wasn’t sure. They probably told him, sure, but being a teenager and one that had parents that hated half of him, had the effect of making him only lightly listen to the weapons and things that were meant to fully kill him off. That and at least the ghost shields weren’t usually a hindrance to him, in fact, they had proven themselves useful on a few occasions.

Plus he had the added advantage of being able to simply return to his human form and slip through the shield with little issue. Given his parents had no knowledge of half ghosts existing, at least he hoped not, they shouldn’t be designing a ghost and human shield. After all, that would defeat the purpose, right? It wasn’t as if Amity really had any human threats anymore.

Well, regardless of the eccentricities of his parents he could at least take some comfort in the fact that Skulker couldn’t simply attack the school to get to him any longer.

Small mercies he supposed.

Danny blinked as his father said something to him before slapping him on his back causing the teen to practically choke on his cereal from the force of the smack. “Isn’t that just great Dann-o?” the large man exclaimed happily before looking at his son expectantly. Oh great, he wanted him to ask something? Great.

“S-Sure” Danny choked out as he flailed, grabbing in front of him for the orange juice he had nabbed from the fridge, it thankfully hadn’t been in there long enough to start glowing… yet…

He shook his head as he finally got his breath back without inhaling dry cereal pieces into his lungs. When he was sure he wasn’t going to sound like some dollar store squeaky toy he tried to ask his parents a question, always a dreadful time if he were honest, but hey, he would usually be late for school anyway.

“So this will go around the whole school?” Danny tried weakly.

“Yep! And the best part is it’ll sense where there's an evil ectoplasmic entity nearby and spring up instantly! We made sure there won’t be a ghost within Twenty feet of the school before that puppy jumps up to the rescue! Like a big Fenton airbag!” Jack exclaimed all too enthusiastically for what the current time in the AM should allow a normal person to exhume.

Danny hummed noncommittally and sent a glance of ‘help me’ to his sister, who, in turn, rolled her eyes at her little brother. “And the shield even uses the ghost’s power to run the shield right?” Jazz asked side eyeing her father from her own spot not wanting to fully engage in the conversation they were having.

“Oh, yea! That’s the best part!” Jack practically cheered out.

“And the stronger the evil skum is the faster the shield will react and sooner it will be picked up. It will only go off on a level three or higher.” Maddie explained with a pleasant smile as she sips at her coffee.

“And we got it all finished last night to be ready for you kids today” Jack added happily.

“Hooray, more fun on a Monday” Danny sighed out into his last bites of cereal. Jazz snorted but didn’t comment, though Danny blew her a childish raspberry.

Jack continued to go on about the more intricate details of the shield they had put up though only one thing really caught his attention in the spiel, “-And Vladdie helped with the funding to outfit the school! Even helped us get the materials we needed to make such a large shield!”

“Ah, there it is…” Danny groaned letting his head fall forward onto the table in instant defeat.

“Danny! I really wish you would learn not to stay up so late playing video games! Look at you! If I get another call from one of your teachers about you sleeping in class-” Maddie started only for Danny to cut her off jumping to his feet.

“Yep! Thanks for that, mom! Look at the time! Love you bye!” Danny prattled off quick as could be before grabbing his book bag by his feet and bolting like a scared rabbit. After all, if his mother never finished that sentence when he inevitably fell asleep he couldn’t be grounded… she never officially gave him the last warning…

That’ll work, right?

It wasn’t long when he was out of the house that he was at his usual waiting spot for Sam and Tucker. Unsurprisingly, Sam got there first though they didn't have to wait long for Tucker to lumber forward, half asleep to his friends, and together they made their way towards the school as a unit.

Things seemed well enough until he got onto the stairs leading up to the main doors. That was when all hell broke loose. A deep alarm sounded before his father’s voice rang out from the speakers, in his over the top cheery way that only Jack Fenton knew how to pull off.

“Attention kids! Guess there’s an evil spook nearby so we’re deploying the shield! This ghost protection was brought to you by Fenton-works and sponsored by your mayor!”

Danny frowned. “My ghost sense didn’t go off…” He mentioned quietly to his friends.

“Maybe the shield sensors are more sensitive than you are?” Tucker asked with a frown.

“Since when?” Sam argued incredulously.

“Well who or whatever it is, it isn’t bothering me right now and no one’s screaming, no one’s panicking, so it can wait. I’m actually going to be on time for once!” Danny says waving the notion off.

He continues his trek up the stairs and towards the doors of the school, though when he reaches the threshold of the shield he finds himself having to really push hard against the thing. It was like hitting a wall of foam or Jell-O. He could push through if he pressed hard enough but it was not pleasant or as easy as going through the air.

Once through the initial shield wall, he blinked slowly feeling sluggish and as though all his limbs were moving through water. He even sort of felt like he was having to ‘swim’ as he walked like he was both heavier and lighter than he should be, but unable to find that buoyancy happy middle ground.

“Dude…” Tucker said smartly as he frowned at his friend’s almost slow motion, yet stop motion like movements. It was eerie, to say the least, not to mention the more pressing issue that he noticed right off the hop, “Your eyes are shining, man. And your, um… Neck...”

Sam, ever prepared for whatever bull their lives seem to throw their way, slipped her bag around to her front and offered Danny a pair of sunglasses, which the halfa put on promptly, along with the spider webbed patterned black and silver scarf. “I mean, it’s better,” Sam argued, not even giving Tucker's look of disapproval her full attention.

“They’re spider glasses.” The boy states with a shake of his head. “Not really digging the whole-” Tucker waved his arm about Danny’s head in little circles, “-pseudo goth thing” he finished finally. Though he had to admit it was at least marginally better than seeing his friend’s glowing eyes and the electric scars showing up on his neck and disappearing under his shirt collar.

“Better?” Danny asked out sluggish, his voice almost sounding like it was being drawn out on a tape deck that was starting to lack battery power and not playing at quite the proper speed making the pitch and timing slower and lower.

Sam and Tucker shared a look before offering a thumbs up to their friend, both deciding it better not to address… whatever that was… The look they shared between one another spoke of their mutual hope that this would perhaps be one of those problems that simply go away on its own.

Ignoring the problems they have usually makes it go away… Yeah, that always works out.

Danny makes a grab for the door to pull it open again, having that weird slow stop motion effect, like he was flickering between blinks rather than making a smooth motion forward. “Ehm, maybe don’t move around too much man… it’s um… creeping me out.” Tucker offers helpfully.

“Huh?” it took Danny a minute to process, as while he looked slow to them they seemed to be hyped up on caffeine to him… “Why are you talking so fast?” He wondered, his head almost appearing to glitch into a tilted and confused look.

“I think the ghost shield is making you go all slow motion. Just stop talking.” Sam says forcefully before letting out a shudder of her own.

Sam and Tucker share a glance before they each grab onto one of Danny’s arms and half drag him off to his locker. Despite his friends’ efforts he still got many looks shot his way, and a couple of people started whispering to one another as he passed by them.

“How is this going to work if I’m already weirding everyone out?” Danny asked, voice still sounding like a slowed record as he blinked sluggishly and his head jerked almost unsteadily from side to side. From his perspective, everyone was speeding along and talking at 1.5 times the normal speed.

“Maybe I should look for the ghost that triggered this, maybe Tuck, can you look into this mess?” Danny asked after a moment of trying to figure out what was being said around him through the noise of the hall.

“Yeah that might be best…” Sam responded shifting from leg to leg as she locks eyes with a basketball jock who was staring at their group incredulously.

“I got you, man, I’ll change everything to present and, block any ‘call home’ recommendations.” Tucker pipped up already pulling out his PDA to set that up preemptively.

Danny nodded and let out a hum before glitching his way out the nearest exit and out of the shield’s bounds. Once he slipped back out through the barrier, strangely enough, a harder feat than it was getting in, but that wasn’t a problem he wanted to focus on, he already blamed Vlad so he would simply continue to do so until the fruitloop showed himself.

As soon as he was through the green line of the shield Danny practically fell forward in relief. That stifling feeling now gone from his core and bones making his movements fluid and normal, well as normal as a clumsy half ghost could be anyhow…

It was a moot point and not one Danny wanted to think on too long. He gave a quick “thanks” to his friends, before diving between the dumpster and the school’s bricks, transforming into his ghostly alter ego and taking off into the sky. He would do a few laps around the school and city as he looks for whatever ghost set off the shield.

-BREAK-

It wasn’t until lunchtime Danny returned looking much more windswept and all around more miserable. He entered the courtyard through the side joining his friends out on the picnic table they had claimed. He made it over to them, flopped down on the bench next to tucker with a groan before his head smacked into the table before him.

“You find them?” Tucker asked around whatever horrid monstrosity of a sandwich he was eating, spewing bits of half chewed bred at Danny’s head.

“No” Came the muffled reply, filled with tired disdain.

“No ghost sense?” Sam wandered, flicking the bits of bread from Danny’s raven hair and back towards Tucker.

“No”

“Huh… You think it was you who set off the shield?” Sam wondered with a thoughtful frown.

“When I went into the back end of the generator though it wasn’t supposed to go off for anything that low, Danny in human form is like a two at best,” Tucker argued spinning his PDA around to show what he’d found when he hacked into the motherboard of the Fenton’s latest device.

Danny groaned. He supposed had he listened to his parents he could have been more prepared for whatever lunacy his parents’ decided to toss his way but alas, his short attention span and teenage rebellion and lack of caring got the best of him yet again.

Joyous of joys.

He tuned out his friend’s back and forthing for a bit, wondering if he could get away with smashing the device as Phantom when Tucker had his a-ha moment of discovery. Danny turned his head and raised a brow at his friend who was furiously typing away at his device.

“You were right about Vlad, Sam”

“Naturally,” She agreed.

“Well, he had an over right line here specifically set for Phantom’s ecto- signature,” the boy states running his finger along the line of code he’d found in the program.

Danny’s mood instantly brightened at that. “So then we just get rid of that bit right? And BAM everything’s fine?” He asked. “Man, what happened to me? Why do I want to get into the school again?”

“To keep up the illusion of normalcy on this mortal plane.” Sam supplied stabbing at her salad a little more forcefully than she probably needed to.

“Eh, yeah, I suppose.” Danny agreed with a lacklustre shrug.

“There, that should do it” Tucker spoke, interrupting whatever tangent Sam was getting ready to spew off about how normalcy was only an illusion created by corporations or some other such thing.

“And just in time The bell just rang,” Danny says with a small grin clasping a firm hand onto his friend’s shoulder. “Nice one Tucker!” he cheered as the trio made their way over to the doors that would lead them back into the cafeteria.

Unfortunately, as soon as Danny’s hand hit the door handle the shield once again sprung to life, though this time, instead of simply having a hard time passing through the shield, he was thrown back across the field earning a cry from several students who were following the trio.

“Grapes of wrath Mister Fenton!” Lancer, (of course it was Lancer) shouted out in worry, his shout even carrying over the prerecorded message containing his father’s voice. Lancer half jogged half waddled over to Danny who blinked up blearily to his teacher, eyes flashing green for the briefest of seconds before draining back to blue.

“Leave it to Fen-turd to get himself possessed.” Dash snorted from behind the pot bellied teacher earning a few nervous glances between the small crowd of gathering students. The mutterings of the students didn’t take long to start up after that.

“I’m not possessed,” Danny argued, though, it was rather hard to make said argument when the palm of his hand was burned and leaking ectoplasm from where he had touched the door.

“Course he’s not possessed! He’s a ghost himself!” Wes shouted pointing an accusatory finger at the youngest Fenton.

Danny glared. “Not the time Westly.” He muttered under his breath as he was hauled to his feet by his friends. He tried to brush himself off only to end up smearing the ectoplasm from his hand onto his jeans, leaving a luminescent streak across his thigh.

Seeing his chance the ginger jock was all too eager to point it out. “See look! He’s bleeding ectoplasm!”

“No, I’m not! It’s from the shield! it sputtered out at me.” Danny tried to protest, though even in his own ears it sounded like a weak argument.

“Really?” Wes argued and marched over to the shimmering shield. The teen waved his arms about freely in the shield’s range hopping back and forth pointedly across the line of the barrier before showing his hands and clothes were completely clean of any glowing goo. “See! Ghost!” he accused again after he did a little pirouette to show his lack of ectoplasm.

“Yeah? Well, it sputtered at Danny only ‘cuz it turned on with him in the threshold.” Sam tried to argue back glaring at the ginger, venom in her gaze.

“Well then, why don’t you just walk through the shield Fen-toad?” Dash said with a smarmy grin, ever eager to get his own jabs in and seemingly not wanting to be outshined by the ginger conspiracy theorist’s bullying of his favourite punching bag.

“Fine” He spat back bitterly and marched up to the shield with a huff.

Sam and Tucker exchange a glance with one another as Danny presses his hand into the shield again. Thankfully this time there wasn’t anything that blows him back but he also really had to try and push through the shield.

Danny could see out of the corner of his eye Wes’s smug grin as he grunts and does his best to push through the shield. His persistence is rewarded and he falls to the ground on the other side jumping up and giving a quick ‘HA!’ as he faces the small gathering crowd of students shifting uncomfortably just beyond the shield.

Sam had a look of exasperation and she looked like she was trying to restrain herself from face palming. Tucker on the other hand had no such restraint. He was almost over eager to bury his face into his hands.

From Danny’s perspective, he simply smacked into the ground and stood back up, but from the other students’ perspectives, Danny fell into the shield but instantly slowed down, looking as though he were falling with the moon’s gravity rather than the earthly speed everyone was used to. It also didn’t really look to them like he had hit the ground, instead glitching his body back into an upright position before cheering in that low slow motion state as he had earlier.

And if that wasn’t damning enough his eyes were glowing a lovely shade of ectoplasmic green.

Wes smirked, seemingly very smug and content with himself and this development. “See told you all he was a ghost!”

“T-that’s enough Mister Weston… Right…” LAncer muttered to himself a few moments watching as Danny seemed to glitch about as he cheered before seemingly realizing something was wrong. “I think there was a procedure to depossess a student…I bet the teachers in Bridgestone don’t have to exercise their students in this manner…” He complains. Sure they had gym class and he would appreciate the pun and irony if he wasn’t so tired.

“I don’t get paid enough for this,” he muttered, ignoring the look of panic that spread across Danny’s face.

It took some doing, a lot of flailing limbs and pressing himself against the damn shield, but Danny soon was through back out and free. His eyes still glowed brightly as he stared at his classmates looking very much like a deer in the headlights. Eyeshine and all might he add.

A few of the students were snickering, because only in Amity park could one get possessed by a ghost and have it come across as though someone had merely said something embarrassing or misheard an instruction and was now staring blankly ahead.

“Er….” Danny stared at his classmates half panicked before simply vanishing from view.

“Moby Dick!” Lancer exclaimed, almost dropping the book he was thumbing through from the Fenton parents. Sure it was a ghost, and could potentially be dangerous, but it wasn’t attacking so there wasn’t really anyone panicking.

Instead, the teacher simply felt tired. “Right, I’ll call the Fentons and let them deal with this, Everyone back inside I do believe the lunch bell rang already!” the teacher called out shooing the students into dispersing.

Danny stood there invisibly and holding strong as he internally groaned. At least they thought he was possessed, that could be easily explained away but he was not looking forward to trying to explain it to his parents…

Still maybe if he gets ahead of this…

It was with that thought in mind that he bolted away into the treeline beside the school, transformed and headed off to his home landing in his bedroom only a few minutes later. He went human, back intangible and invisible came out the door, made sure the coast was clear before speeding his way down into the basement.

He just made it down the stairs startling his mother and father who blinked at him curiously, when the phone rang cutting off his mother’s “Honey? What are you doing home so soon?”

“It’s the school calling Mads,” Jack says, sounding disappointed as the large man sent a look of disapproval to his boy.

“Wait!” Danny jumped forward answering the phone and instantly hanging it up.

“Daniel!” His mother exclaimed abashedly.

“I wanna explain first! Do you know how all your stuff goes off on me? Well, the shield at school started doing that and they think I’m possessed! I’m not, it's just the… ya know…” Danny rambled off hurriedly hoping against hope that his parents wouldn’t try to send him to decontamination … again… (Thanks to his ghost half, it burned in places he didn’t ever want to burn)

“You’re possessed Dann-o?!” Jack exclaimed instantly pulling a Fenton gun from somewhere on his person and brandishing it towards his son.

Danny threw his hands up and waved them placatingly at his father. “NO! Just the normal stuff! The contamination from the portal accident set it off. I got too close to the sensor!” He says quickly ignoring how his parents seem to flinch slightly.

His parents shared a look before his father seemed to deflate, seemingly upset at the fact his son wasn’t possessed. “I thought we fixed that... “ Jack says with a frown. “But, we can’t let the school know we may have messed it up! I know we’ll just run the tests again and fix it in the night!”

“Yeah, that would be- Wait what?” Danny blinks. Why couldn’t they just go down and fix it normally? Of course, his parents had to be weird about this too. “Thanks… Is there anything you need from me to help?”

And with those words said he almost instantly regretted it. “Well… We would really like to know why your ecto signature lines up perfectly with Phantom’s but perhaps that can wait.” Maddie offered with a small amused smile.

Danny sputtered at that, “Wh-What?”

“We set up a monitoring system so we can tell which ghosts most frequent the school… Phantom was the one that triggered the shield twice today. There actually wasn’t anything else that did,” Maddie explained with a deepening frown.

“You sure you’re not possessed, son?” Jack asked again this time sounding almost defeated in how, well, normal a volume he asked that. The hidden meaning was all too obvious especially after he mentioned his accident…

They thought he was dead! The portal killed him! And as the growing pit of dread grew into Danny’s stomach he couldn’t help but feel awful knowing they were correct in that assumption, well at least half right anyhow.

“Yeah… I’m… I’m me…” Danny managed out his voice cracking

“O-oh hun....” Maddie sniffed.

“But it’s not I… I’m me, I promise and I’m not all dead. I still have a heartbeat and everything!” Danny argued or rather tried to as his mother was quick to kneel before him taking his face in her hands as tears bubbled down her chin.

“Mom really I’m like … half at most. More human with a side of ghostly abilities ya know?”

“Oh, it’s okay Dann-o… You're still my son, I know ya are. It’s been almost a year since that accident and you’re mostly still you.” Jack said. “Just worse grades and more hormones and-”

“Thanks, guys really,” Danny sighed in relief both at dodging the potentially awkward birds and ghostly bees talk as well as the tepid acceptance he was getting. Awkward though it may be it was still acceptance nonetheless. He was happy for it just the same.

“Maybe while we work on fixing up the shield to ignore Phantom’s signature you can tell us about some things?” Maddie asked sniffling again as she looked over her son’s face trying her best to hold herself together and not outright bawl at the thought she had killed her youngest child.

“Y-yeah… I’ve been wanting to tell you about this for a while now but, well, ya know…” Danny offered uselessly.

“I think it’s us who should apologize for that, son but maybe we can just all go get some triple chocolate fudge milkshakes and go deal with that shield after dinner?” Jack offered with a smile, ever the one to break up tension.

“Yeah, yeah… that sounds good.” Danny agreed. Well, it wasn't how he was expecting this to go, but he was kinda glad it ended up like this. Maybe now they could repair their strained relationship.

As Maddie ruffled up Danny’s hair the teen offered her his first genuine smile in almost a year.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Total words: 4245 Complete

#phic phight 2021 #Phic Phight #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #lancer #ghost shields are a problem #kinfa fluffy #danny is so done

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sindrafalcone · 3 years

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Adventures in Babysitting pt. 3

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seung Hyun x reader

Synopsis: A babysitting job turns into something unexpected…

Warnings: Fluff for now, but it will evolve into something steamier in a later chapter. You’ve been warned!

Author’s Note: It has been entirely too long since I updated this story! My apologies... But I finally think I’m un-stuck on the storyline, so hopefully I can finish it in a reasonable amount of time. Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

You had only made it about half a block before Seunghyun stopped dead in his tracks. When he quit moving you did as well, peering at him to see if he was okay. Between the dim city lights and his face mask you couldn't make out very much, but he was still holding on to your hand so that had to count for something. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he spoke softly. “This place that you're taking me...” his deep voice trembled a little bit. “Is it going to be very busy?”

You were a little taken aback by the clear apprehension in his voice. But then you remembered how happy he'd been when you had given him his space back at the museum. Maybe he just didn't like crowds.

“Sometimes it can be.” you admitted. “Usually around lunch time, but this late at night I doubt there's very many people in there. It's just a small Mom & Pop shop.” He seemed to take a moment to think about what you said & you patiently waited for what he was going to say next. Perhaps he was getting cold feet about having dinner with you and just wanted to go back to the hotel instead.

“I still want to go with you.” he said, as if reading your mind. “I just... um, do you know if they have a private room?”

“Yeah...” you answered him hesitantly, not really seeing where he was going with this. “There's a medium sized room in the back of the restaurant that can be reserved for parties or large groups.”

“Do you think maybe you could call ahead and ask if we could eat in there?” Seunghyun shifted his weight back and forth from foot to foot nervously. “I'll be happy to pay extra if they want. Or if that's not available, we'll need a table in the very back, preferably as far away from other people as possible.”

You looked at him closely for a bit before taking out your phone. You decided he was being completely serious and you had the fleeting thought that he might actually have a phobia about this. “Okay... give me a minute.” you relented & you could finally see the tension in his shoulders relax as you did so. He let go of your hand so you could make the call and you found that you missed his warmth more than you wanted to admit.

Luckily for him, you were very good friends with the owners. You had been eating lunch there almost every day since you'd found the place a couple years back. The food was good and relatively cheap, especially once they had started giving you the 'family discount' even though you had tried to object. In a matter of minutes, you had secured the private room for you and Seunghyun to use. You brought up his willingness to pay a fee, but the owner just laughed at you. Telling her that you'd be there soon, you hung up only to find him looking at you anxiously.

“We can use the private room.”

“Oh, good.” he sighed, relief obvious in his voice. “That usually works out much better.”

You really wanted to question him about this whole thing, but decided that it might be better to wait until you were actually in the restaurant or maybe even back at the hotel before deciding to pry into his apparent agoraphobia. This time Seunghyun held his hand out for you to take & you stared at it in shock for a few seconds before gleefully interlacing your fingers again and setting off once more towards your destination for food.

When you rounded the corner and pulled him in the direction of the restaurant, he stopped once again.

“Pho?” he said, a curious tone to his voice. “You're taking me out for Pho?”

You turned to face him, not letting go this time. “Is that a problem?”

“No...” he smiled & you could see it in his eyes, despite the face mask he still wore. “I'm pleasantly surprised. That's all.”

“Well come on then.” you told him, playfully tugging him along towards the door. “I'm starving!”

He chuckled and the two of you tumbled into the warmth of the Pho shop holding hands, laughing and pink cheeked from the cool outside air.

“You didn't tell me it was a date!” the woman who stood at the counter exclaimed loudly. “_______! You should have warned me.”

“It isn't... we're not...” you stammered, looking down at your interlocked hands. You attempted to pull away, but Seunghyun just held tighter and chuckled louder.

“Nonsense! I know a date when I see one.” she dismissed as she motioned for the two of you to follow her to the room in the back. “I wondered why you wanted to use the party room. You should have just said, dear!”

Thankfully you noticed that the restaurant was mostly empty as she walked you through it, so there weren't very many witnesses to your embarrassment and none that you recognized.

She opened the door and gestured the two of you inside. “Here, just sit at the smaller table in the middle of the room. It will be more intimate that way.”

Beside you, Seunghyun made a small choking sound as she continued fussing. “I wish you had told me it was a date when you called. I would have set up some candles or something.”

“It's fine.” you told her, voice cracking a bit. “It'll be fine just like this.” You all but ripped your hand away from Seunghyun's and started to take off your coat, but before you made it very far you felt his hands slide over yours to remove it for you. Then he draped it carefully over a nearby empty chair before he set about sliding out of his own outerwear.

“Such a gentleman!” the old lady exclaimed, hearts practically dancing in her eyes as she backed out of the room. “I'll be back with your drinks shortly.”

As soon as the door closed behind her, you rounded on Seunghyun and hissed. “What the hell was that?”

He held his hands up innocently, face mask still dangling from one long-fingered hand. “What?” he asked, laughing slightly, his eyes lit with mirth.

You plopped down into a chair inelegantly. “I was trying to let go of your hand and explain to her that this wasn't a date...”

“Is it not?” he interrupted, setting his mask down on top of his coat. “She's right, it does look like a date. And, you have to admit, it's slightly less awkward than the truth... that you're my babysitter.” he put a special emphasis on that last word that made you squirm in your seat a little bit.

“True...” you agreed. “I suppose when you put it like that...”you started, but Seunghyun held his hand up to you again just as he had earlier in the evening at the hotel. And, just like before, you stopped talking.

“But that isn't what's important right now.” he told you as he pulled out a chair and sat down in the seat across from you.

“It isn't?”

“No.” he said, his face utterly serious, all traces of joking gone. “It's probably best that she thinks it's a date. But I have to tell you something before she gets back.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table so you could give Seunghyun your full attention. He leaned forward as well, until your faces were mere inches apart.

“___________.” he whispered your name. “I have a confession to make. I'm not...” he took a deep breath and blew it out. “I'm not who you think I am.”

“A rich, foreign guy with impeccable fashion sense who knows his wine and appreciates contemporary art?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, spilling all the details that you'd managed to piece together over the past few hours you'd spent with Seunghyun (or at least all the observations that you were willing to admit to him, anyway).

He flashed you a dangerous smile. “Well, yes... I am those things. But that's not all of who I am and you need to know the vital details before...”

The door the room slid open again, interrupting whatever Seunghyun had been about to say & he cursed quietly under his breath. You watched as he leaned back in his seat and winced, seeming to brace himself for something he knew was inevitably coming. From the pained expression on his face, it didn't look as if he expected it to be pleasant.

“I've got your usual right here. Iced Vietnamese coffee and a glass of water. I brought the same for your gentleman, I hope that's okay.” the older lady said as she bustled over towards you. “Now, do you two love birds need menus or...” her voice trailed off as she finally made it to the table and caught a clear view of Seunghyuns face, without his mask. “Oh my...” her voice faltered, the tray immediately started shaking in her hands.

“Ma'am...” Seunghyun said tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes still closed.

“Oh my goodness!” she practically yelled, her voice echoing slightly in the almost empty room. “Y- y- you're... T.O.P!” she whispered those last three letters as if they were some sort of secret.

You just looked between the two of them, completely lost as to what was going on. “Um, Mrs. Tran?” you placed a hand carefully on her arm to get her attention away from Seunghyun.

“Yes, dear?” she asked, still looking at him with sheer disbelief written all over her elderly face.

“You might want to set the tray down before you drop it.” you told her gently.

“Oh, yes... good idea.” she replied, voice weak.

She did finally manage to set the tray down on the table with a little help from you.

Seunghyun sighed, opened his eyes & smiled at the old woman. It was a polite smile, but tight. Something that someone who hadn't spent much time with him probably wouldn't notice as a fake smile, but you could see it nonetheless.

“Mrs. Tran...” he soothed, having picked up her name from when you'd said it. “Tonight, I'm not T.O.P. I'm just Seunghyun, trying to enjoy a normal date with the lovely ________, here. I'm happy to sign as many autographs as you want and I'll even mention this restaurant on my Instagram if you'd like a boost in business. But I'd appreciate it if you could keep my visit here a secret for now. And please, no pictures.” Seunghyun gestured over to you. “I'd like to keep our date as private as possible.”

You were so confused right now, but Mrs. Tran seemed to understand what was going on. It was as if a light bulb immediately went off over the little woman's head and she smiled knowingly. “Oooohhhhh, I get it. Don't worry, you aren't the first celebrity we've had in here. It's just been a very long time and you caught me off guard, that's all. I know how to be discreet.”

“Thank you.” he said with a little bow towards her that made her giggle like a school girl and blush.

“Now that's settled...” she clapped her hands together excitedly. “Menus?”

“I think I'll trust __________ to order for both of us. She obviously knows this place quite well.” Seunghyun said with a wink in your direction.

“Um...” you faltered, still reeling from their entire conversation, not to mention the fact that he had just referred to you as 'lovely'. 'Celebrity?' you thought quickly to yourself. 'What the hell is going on here & what have I gotten myself into?!?' you cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Is there anything you don't want to eat?” you asked him. “Or are you allergic to anything?”

Seunghyun smiled. “I'm allergic to peaches & I don't eat intestines. Other than that, I'm fair game.” he said, already reaching for a glass of water from the tray.

You nodded at him at turned back to face Mrs Tran. “Just double my usual then.”

“So...” she pulled out an order pad and pen from her apron. “A double #4 and two medium # 45's?”

“Actually, make those #45's a large please. We're both kinda hungry tonight.” you said without thinking of the implications of that sentence.

“Oh, I bet you are.” she sassed under her breath as she walked away, causing Seunghyun to almost snort water out of his nose. Mrs. Tran merely hummed happily to herself as she walked out of the room. As soon as the door shut, you could hear her yelling in Vietnamese, presumably to her husband who was in the kitchen.

You briefly thought about immediately grilling Seunghyun about this whole “celebrity” business, but as you remembered the look on his face as he braced himself earlier, you paused. You never wanted to see that look from him directed at you. So instead, you settled for pouring the coffee that had just finished steeping over the ice & sweetened, condensed milk in the other glass.

“Are we going to talk about this or would you rather pretend that whole scene never happened?” you asked, not trusting yourself to look at him.

A few seconds ticked by before he answered quietly. “You'd be willing to do that? Just ignore everything she said about me?”

You shrugged, stirring your coffee to combine it with the milk. “I mean... I'll admit to being curious. But it obviously bothers you & I was just fine with not knowing before.”

Seunghyun sighed heavily before pouring his own coffee. “Right now, I'm just Seunghyun to you. A rich, foreign guy with impeccable fashion sense who knows his wine and appreciates contemporary art.” he smirked. “If I tell you everything, that changes.” he said, his voice melancholy.

“It doesn't have to.” you told him softly. “Let's try this... You tell me your secret, and I'll tell you mine.” you said, finally looking up and locking eyes with him.

That statement seemed to intrigue him and he arched an eyebrow up at you. “You have a secret double life too?”

“Saying it like that makes it sound like I'm a superhero or something.” you laughed & smacked him playfully on the arm. “But, yeah... there are things that you don't know about me yet. Maybe not as big of a bombshell as yours, but still... something that might change the way you see me too.”

“How about we wait until after dinner?” he asked tentatively.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Interrupting the conversation, Mrs. Tran came back into the private room, bringing two large bowls of pho over and deposited a plate with bean sprouts, sprigs of basil and quarters of limes on the table; along with four egg rolls and two bowls of dipping sauce.

Seunghyun inhaled deeply. The aroma of the broth and the slices of rare beef and shrimp wontons floating atop the long rice noodles making his stomach growl once again. “This smells amazing.”

Mrs. Tran just giggled at him again. “You know, I didn't even realize Bigbang was in town...” she started before he held up a finger to his lips.

“Technically, we're not.” he whispered. “We're just... having a bit of a vacation that's all. Very hush-hush.”

“Ohhhhhh.....” she nodded knowingly. “I guess everyone needs a break sometimes. Well, I will just leave you two alone. I'll be back later to check in on you.” and without another word, she was gone.

Seunghyun started plucking the basil leaves off one of the sprigs, rolling them up and then ripping them into little pieces and dropping them in his soup while you watched him, completely mesmerized by the movements of his fingers.

“I guess you've had Pho before then?” you asked, taking an egg roll from your plate before tearing it in half, dipping it into the sauce & taking a bite.

Seunghyun nodded, “It's been a while though. So, thanks for bringing me here.” he told you sincerely, picking up an egg roll with his chopsticks and dipping it before taking his own crunchy bite.

“Show off...” you muttered, grumpily picking up your own chopsticks and spoon just to show him that you did, in fact, know how to use them.

Seunghyun merely laughed.

The two of you spent the next hour simply eating and discussing the art and artists from the museum exhibition. Conversation flowed between you effortlessly & before you knew it, Mrs. Tran was bringing in the check and fortune cookies.

Seunghyun pulled out his wallet and when you tried to object, reminded you that you'd paid for the taxi earlier. You caught a glimpse of the black card he held between his long, slender fingers & swallowed hard, nodding your head in acceptance.

You both made the decision to take the fortune cookies back to the hotel and, after Seunghyun spent some time signing the promised autographs for Mrs. Trang, you left the restaurant the same way you'd come in... laughing and holding hands.

Only this time, you were headed back to the hotel and a discussion that could possibly change everything between the two of you.

#Choi Seunghyn #T.O.P #kpop fanfic #bigbang fanfic #choi seunghyun fanfic #T.O.P fanfic #t.o.p bigbang #BIGBANG TOP

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am-imagines · 4 years

Text

I see you. - Alex Morgan Imagine.

Request: “ Can I request this: Alex and r are together and the team knows and then they come out to the public in some really cute or funny way and maybe you can also incorporate some supportive reactions from the team? ”

I hope I did it justice, guys. Thank you for the patience to those that are still around. I love y’all. <3

No Beta, so you know the drill here, but I tried my best.

Sharing a room with Alex during the World Cup was somewhat rough when you were barely able to look at her without blushing. You were crushing on her since the day you met, but it was never that bad until you were on the bed next to hers.

The awkwardness that overcame you around her was odd, considering you texted practically nonstop. You became good friends like that, and there was an ease on your conversations that you’d never experienced with anyone else.

You shared so many interests, even had a similar lookout in life. You aimed for the same goals and put in equal amounts of effort to achieve them.

None of that changed the fact that Alex was stupidly handsome. Her beauty smacked you on the face whenever you looked at her and that was your downfall. It didn’t matter what you did, your cheeks would end up flushed with color and you’d stammer total nonsense that would make her chuckle. Alex would inevitably get closer to make sure you were okay, and just like that you were a gay mess.

A thing you learned quickly about Alex is that she never quit.

When you were too nervous to talk, she filled in the silence with a funny story or a new song to listen together. Free nights became movie marathons or just quiet moments where you’d work the nerves away before a match.

Halfway through the World Cup it wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to fall asleep in her bed and wake up cuddled on her side come morning.

Pointing the exact moment when your relationship became more than a friendship was near impossible. It was slow, steady and swift. One day you looked at her and realized that she was more than your friend, and when you leaned down to kiss her, she met you halfway.

This was a new side of yourself and Alex; one that you wanted to enjoy without rush or pressure. No one really knew you were into girls to start with although your crush on her wasn’t exactly subtle. Then again, everyone had to be a little starstruck by Alex Morgan when they joined the USWNT.

Once you were World Champions, you had time to explore that relationship and everything it meant to you. It was both exhilarating and terrifying with all the media swarming you, and yet no one noticed the slight changes in your demeanor.

No one really asked, and you never told.

Perhaps you just weren’t ready to come out to the rest of the world. Maybe wrapping your head around some of the details was harder than you thought. After all, you were dating Alex Morgan, for fuck’s sake!

Maybe the longing looks, the lingering touches and the secretive smiles were a few clues for the team, but if they knew or suspected something, you couldn’t tell. They were a part of your family, and in the end, they wanted you to be happy above everything else.

They would wait for you to be ready, and once things went back to normal after the victory tour, you finally were.

“How are we doing this?” Alex asked as she played with your hair. “Livestream?”

You look up at her, your head resting on her lap as you scroll through social media wondering what the fuck you’re about to do. But a second later all your attention is on her, and you find yourself breathless once again.

She’s stunning in a million different ways but you preferred this one; soft and relaxed. That was one of the perks of enjoying a quiet weekend at her place in L.A. before you went back to your respective clubs.

It seems like the National team is fond of Live Streams but it isn't how you want to come out. First because you’d become a nerve mess before actually sharing the news, and second because it isn’t original at all.

If you are about to come out to the fans and sponsors out there, you want to do so in a way they’d remember.

“I don’t think I could do it even if I tried,” you finally say.

Then it dawns on you: humor is the way you handle most of the things that would make you uncomfortable otherwise. That’s not to say you want the world to believe your relationship with Alex is a joke, but there has to be a way to come out in a funny, quirky and clever way.

“We’ll see each other in a couple of weeks, right?” You ask trying to remember the exact date when your clubs will face each other.

“Yeah,” she pauses for a second and you look up at her curiously. “Speaking of, any chance I can steal you for a night while you’re in Orlando?”

“Well, Ms. Morgan, I’m pretty sure that can be arranged,” you tell her with a coy smile. “For now, there’s some online shopping to do.”

With a kiss on her cheek and all the hesitation on the world to leave her side, you finally go to the other side of the room to retrieve your laptop. After all, you’re in a very important mission. And NWSL is the kind of merchandise you’re looking for.

For some miracle of the Gods above, you find both your jerseys in stock available for shipping within 24 hours with an extra fee. You don’t mind paying a bit more to stay on schedule, and even when you technically still have time, you like to be prepared.

It’d be nice to get your items before you and Alex go your separate ways.

You’d be lying if you say having her autograph wouldn’t be nice too.

“What’s the big idea here?” Alex asks while you finalize the purchase.

Her arms found their place around your waist and she rests her chin on your shoulder so she can see what you’re doing. Your plan is still a secret, and you want to keep it like that for a little longer.

“You’re gonna have to wait and trust me for a while.”

The smirk never leaves your face even when you can feel her little pout. It doesn’t last long, the laptop is forgotten on the coffee table and you turn on her arms to face her. A moment later you’re straddling her lap, your fingers undoing her ponytail and combing her hair until she closes her eyes.

“For now, what do you say we stop worrying about the rest of the world?”

“What should we do then?” She asks, already leaning in for a kiss.

“I think you got the right idea.”

*****

“All set?”

You scan the place one last time to make sure nothing’s missing from your bag. Nothing important since Alex has already claimed half your clothes.

Cellphone and wallet already in your pocket, and keys right on your hand, everything seems to be where it should. The rest of your things are packed and ready to go for the last flight home.

The Victory Tour ended on a good note, so now all you have to do is say goodbye to Alex.

Sharing a room with her was hard at the beginning, and you never expected that not sharing it anymore would be exponentially harder.

“Yeah,” you finally answer after patting your pockets once again. “I think-, I think I’m ready.”

“Okay.”

But just like you, Alex doesn’t really move and when she does, it’s towards you.

You’ve never seen her move as fast as she does while crossing the distance between you. But you don’t comment on it, really can’t when her arms are around you in a second and her lips are on yours.

It’s soft and yet firm. The kind of kiss that makes you weak at the knees and all you can do is hold onto her shoulders. You move with her, allow her to take control of it all as you try to burn her into your memory.

You try to memorize the softness of her lips, the silkiness of her hair between your fingers and even that scent that is purely Alex. You try to take all of it in, but you only have a moment that is over far too soon.

Technology is your saving grace, and you’re not sure what you’d do otherwise. And yet there are things you can’t convey through the Internet.

“I should go,” you whisper against her lips.

“Yeah.”

It’s hard -almost impossible-, to resist Alex. So despite the pressing matter of time, you indulge in another kiss.

Just like last time, you melt into her embrace and you consider staying there forever. It’s almost as if time stopped around you. Almost. Your alarm goes off startling you out of the daze, and you can help the little jump that makes Alex chuckle.

A step back creates just enough distance to clear your mind, the action making Alex raise an eyebrow in amusement but it’s really not your fault. She has that effect on you, has been that way for a long time, and yet she still finds it amusing.

With a tap on the screen you take care of the alarm. And there you are, right where you were ten minutes ago.

Time to go.

“Right. So...here I go then.”

“And-,” Alex adds with an excited smile, “-we have a game plan for next week.”

“That we do.”

Next week you’re playing against different teams on different days which gives you the opportunity to watch each other’s match. It’s the first step on your plan. Coming out seems like a big deal, and bit by bit the pieces get in motion.

“No regrets, right?” You ask.

This is not just about you. As big as coming out can be, this is also the reveal of your relationship with the biggest face of the USWNT. Whatever backlash you can get from this, it’ll be worse for her due to her massive following.

So you have to ask her again if she’s sure about this, if she’s as ready as you are.

“Y/n,” she calls softly as she cups your face. “No regrets at all.”

“Good,” you said with a small voice, barely believing this. “That’s...that’s good.”

You’re on this together, and yet, it’s incredible.

*****

Her match is about to start when you pull out your phone to take a selfie.

The pride colors look kinda odd on you. Maybe it’s because you spent the last few months only wearing the National Team kit, or maybe it’s because you don’t wear purple that often. But well, you’re not requesting a team trade, and it was your idea, so you can’t complain.

One of your friends already helped you take one picture of the back where Alex’s name and number are perfectly visible.

You’re practically shaking, but manage to smile as you snap the picture.

It’s something simple, really. Something that shouldn’t mean too much and yet, it does.

Pulling up your social media, you add both pictures.

|Cheering for the Pride today. #13 show me what you’ve got. ;)

The wink is cheeky; it’s a reason for people to read into it and wonder if there’s something else going on. Which is…well, totally the point.

It’s funny to see the diverse reactions to your post. Some are confused about what you mean, some jump to call a trade that simply won’t happen; at least not that you know. But the press, oh they are ready to call it a rivalry.

It doesn’t matter how many times you two were caught on camera during the world cup being friendly. It didn’t matter if you two worked like a well oiled machine on the field during every match; Victory Tour included. They wanted to push the rivalry angle; fueled by the lack of a rebuttal from either of you.

You can’t help but laugh later when you call Alex to congratulate her. She truly showed you what she got with a couple of goals and the victory for the Orlando Pride. Those have been rare for her team lately, although you can’t blame them with so many key players also going to the World Cup.

However, the rivalry angle is fun to play with and in the end it’s the one you decide to push a little more the next day when it’s you on the field while Alex watches.

You’re already done with warm-ups and head out to the locker room to change into the kit when you hear your phone pinging with a new post. As expected, you find Alex’s post already blowing up despite it has been up for a grand total of two minutes.

|I already showed you what I’m capable of. Now it’s your turn, Y/n.

Attached it’s a picture of Alex wearing your club jersey and although the number isn’t really showing, it’s more than obvious she’s wearing yours.

A chuckle escapes your lips while you shake your head. A question running through your head as you prepare for the starting whistle.

What the fuck am I doing?

***

A week later the press is going wild with theories about you and Alex. They aren’t sure what to make of it, but everyone has been talking about it for days. The upcoming match up between your clubs has served to add fuel to the fire, but you ignore all the fuzz of it as you prepare.

Last week you obtained the victory with a last minute goal to earn the three points. And unable to resist temptation, you had to make another post about it.

|I’d say I’m pretty good at delivering. What do you say, Morgan?

|TBD. See you next week.

The last part was a clue that no one seemed to catch on considering you were staying at her place instead of sticking with your club in a hotel. Of course, you didn’t share that bit of information and instead let the tension grow outside of your happy bubble.

This match is the moment of culmination if everything goes the right way. But playing against Alex doesn’t mean you’re going easy on her. If anything, being on the same field always pushes you to play the best soccer and be the best player you can be out there. It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing the same colors or not.

Being lenient with her as a rival is the kind of mistake that could and would cost you a game. You just don’t underestimate Alex Morgan. And she better not do so to you or you’ll make her pay.

Adjusting the captain armband once more, you follow your team into the field and take your place just a few feet away from your girlfriend.

“Good luck, Morgan.”

“May the best team win.”

You play your hardest on that field; push to your limits and beyond, but in the end it’s a draw. Two a piece. Of course it had to be a draw. But you left everything there.

The game became physical and you tackled Alex as much as she tackled you in order to get back a lost ball. That’s part of your motto, not giving up even if it seems like a lost cause. And considering Alex decided to date you even when you couldn’t look at her four months ago, you’d say Alex doesn’t give up either.

Well that and the couple of new bruises you have after the match.

You’re a bit disappointed with the final score; you always want to win and carry that inertia into the next game. But it’s a fair result considering how close the game actually was. You two put on a show and the fans of both teams can see that.

“Y/n! Y/n! Can you give us one moment of your time?”

Looking at the person calling for you, you have to fight the smirk as you see it’s a reporter. It’s not hard to imagine they’ve been waiting for this moment since the first post you made a week ago.

“Sure.”

“What a great game you gave us today. Are you disappointed with the result?”

You can see this is not really what they want to ask, but you don’t mind playing along giving your commentary to this question and a couple of others.

“One last question, the fans and everyone really, are wondering about this new rivalry between you and Alex Morgan. What can you tell us about that?”

Bingo.

“Oh, there’s absolutely no-”

You could feel Alex lingering around, listening into this interview while being interviewed herself by another reporter for a quote after the game. But it’s only when you’re in the middle of your answer that she takes the few steps to wrap her arms around you from behind.

“We’re dating,” she announces proudly and straight to the point.

“-rivalry.” You finish your sentence before shaking your head. “Babe, I was going to say it!”

“What’s stopping you?” Alex challenges with that smirk you absolutely adore.

“You’re impossible.“

“Yeah, and…?”

“And Alex Morgan is my girlfriend,” you answer with just a little grumble as you look back at the camera. “But we’re definitely winning the next game.”

“Not on my watch,” she counters before turning your face towards her to kiss you softly.

Whatever argument you had is gone just like that. But it’s hard to keep track of your thoughts when she kisses you. Hell, it’s impossible to think straight when she’s too close to you. That’s why it took you so long to actually talk to her.

Your relationship is still so new, and yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve known her for decades. The connection between the two of you is meant to last, and you’ve never felt your heart skip a beat as it does when you look at her.

You’ve never felt your heart hammer against your chest so madly; and that’s something considering you played -and conquered-, a World Cup. You’ve never felt so in peace as you do when you look into her eyes. You’ve never felt so happy, or so whole, or so seen...or so you.

Alex has the ability to understand everything you say, but words aren’t needed for her to understand you. In a short amount of time, Alex knows you better than anyone else in the world, and as scary as that might seem, it’s also the best thing in the world.

“If you’ll excuse us now...”

Surely there are a thousand other questions the press wants to ask. However, you have no need to stay on the field as you guide Alex back to the tunnel. The fans will be all over that interview in no time, and it’s bound to appear in every social media and every news channel.

Even with the anxiety starting to creep in, the doubts nagging at the back of your mind, you don’t let go of her hand until you have to. After all, you belong to two different clubs. But your goodbye will be short lived as you’re going to her place for the night.

Still, the time apart is a bit scary when you’re about to face the backlash of many, and perhaps the support of most. After all, you’re not the first couple -or the only one-, in the USWNT, NWSL or even women’s soccer around the world.

After another gentle kiss, you part ways to reunite with your team.

You’re hesitant for a moment; taking a deep breath to steel yourself before facing them.

As soon as they see you, the room erupts in cheers and whistles of approval. Then again, your crush on Alex Morgan wasn’t exactly a secret. And after the World Cup, they could see something had changed within you.

Of all the people out there to get you, your club got your back. And after you get a chance to check your phone, you notice they ain’t the only ones.

|Rivalry, that’s what they call it now, uh?

Megan’s post goes along with a picture of you smiling at Alex at the end of a World Cup match. It’s obvious you were smitten with each other back then, and nothing has really changed.

|We all know how Rivalries work. One of them has to end on top. If you ask me, my money is on Y/n.

Your blush is impossible to hide when you read Ash’s words, and that’s something that you won’t ever reply to. There are things that you simply won’t share with the world.

|Wait, hold on. Did you guys seriously not know?

Sonnett asks in her post with several pictures taken during camp. Some of them are during team bonding or well...movie nights. It wasn’t unusual for either of you to feel particularly tired and ended up falling asleep in the same bed.

But you’re surprised to see that you cuddled before you were together.

Then, there’s the evidence of you sitting next to each other whenever you could. During breakfast, on the bus, on the bench, on the plane. At some there was hand-holding added, and you wonder, truly wonder, how you called that subtle.

|Hottest couple out there. Sorry, Krashlyn.

Bit by bit, every single player of the USWNT has shown their support, and it acts as a wave to generate more support from the fans, and it’s so overwhelming that the few people brave enough to try and drag your name on the mud are immediately silenced.

The world is still far away from being perfect, but your friends, your teammates, your family, they sure make it better.

“Ready to go?” Alex asks when you meet her outside.

“Sure, as long as I end on top tonight,” you say with a playful wink that earns you an eye roll.

“You wish.”

#alex morgan imagine #alex morgan imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #alex morgan x reader #requested #fulfilled prompt

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