Tumgik
#hey! i know i haven’t been all too active on this account lately
duckletranslations · 2 years
Text
Ariadne Ch 1 - Prologue
Season: Fall
Tumblr media
HiMERU: ……
Kohaku: Mm~? This design, I’ve never seen these socks before. Whose are they?
Niki: Ah, those’d be my new socks ♪ The light green color is just like a kiwi, so I thought it looked delicious!
Kohaku: Ahh, so they’re yours, Niki-han. Kiwi color y’say, I’ll remember that.
Havin’ said that, ya just gotta make everything about food. There has to be a more fitting comparison.
Well, it doesn’t matter. Rather, why’re we packin’ our bags all of a sudden? Rinne-han broke the news so suddenly, I meant to ask while we were in the middle of it.
Niki: Ah, that’s what I wanted to know too! Telling us to suddenly pack up like that….could it be he wants us to make a secret escape by night!
Rinne-kun, be honest. You didn’t dip your hands into our unit activity funds, did you?
Rinne: Now why would I do that. It’s for work, work.
Niki: Work….?
Rinne: Yep, and it’s gonna be a shoot at a country locale!
CosPro basically neglects us, so this is a rare opportunity! So whatever other business you guys have going on now, drop it all cuz I’m takin’ us there pronto!
Niki: What? So we’re packing our bags right now for work?
I don’t like that~ Traveling far for work is gonna make me tired!
Rinne: Ya don’t mind, Niki? Y’know there are all sorts of specialties in the country? An opportunity to try ‘em all is being handed to you, and ya don’t mind being left behind here all by yourself?
Niki: Eh!? Then I’ll be going! I’ve decided!
Kohaku: What a crafty guy. Well, that’s fine. I’m just grateful that we’ve got a job.
HiMERU: — — …..
Rinne: Hey, what are you zonin’ out like that for?
Tumblr media
What’s goin’ on in your head this time, ◼◼?
HiMERU:…..! Amagi, how do you know “my” name…..?
Kohaku: Oh dear, ◼◼-han. Ya really thought y’could keep hidin’ it?
We know everything. The whole story about how you, ◼◼-han, became an idol in the real HiMERU’s place ♪
Niki: I noticed it right after Crazy:B was formed! That’s when Rinne-kun said we should keep our mouths shut about it for a while for fun ♪
HiMERU: No….. For “my” true self to have been leaked—
Niki: Nahaha. You still haven’t figured it out?
All the fans and idols at ES, they know all about it!
HiMERU?: That can’t be….! Surely you’re lying?!
Kohaku: Oh, but it can be. Basically the only one outta the loop was you, ◼◼-han….
Niki: Everyone was excited for when you’d catch onto it~!
Rinne: How absolutely hilarious. It was really only you, ◼◼, going around thinking you had everyone fooled ♪
But ya don’t have to hide yourself anymore, ◼◼.
From now on, leave “HiMERU” or whatever behind, you’re a part o’ our very own, Crazy:B!
Oh yeah, ◼◼, we’ve been preparing a live show where we’ll drop your real name! Let’s make it a dramatic reveal! ♪
HiMERU?: Don’t you dare! “I” did not become “HiMERU” for that!
Moreover, the thought of being reduced to a spectacle for the world’s eyes—!
Tumblr media
HiMERU: …..Uah!?
A d, dream…..? And this place…..
Kohaku: You musta been havin’ something fierce of a nightmare, HiMERU-han. Yer soaked through with cold sweat.
We’re in the middle of a long tunnel. The blackout curtains of the studio bus are drawn so that light wouldn’t come in while we sleep.
HiMERU: The atmosphere is strangely poetic. In fact, it is so dark that everyone could believably die in an accident on this studio bus.
Once we come out of the long tunnel, the snow district—no, the country locale will come into view.
Kohaku: That’s right. Even so, I’d say talkin’ about everyone dyin’ is rather ominous. Just what kinda nightmare were ya havin’, HiMERU-han?
HiMERU: — —No, it’s not important. A nightmare not worth caring about.
Niki: It’s beef tongue~
HiMERU: ……?
Niki: Beef tongue, beef tongue….. Mumble mumble…. ♪
HiMERU: He’s talking in his sleep, how confusing.
Kohaku: Lately, all that comes out of Niki’s mouth is “beef tongue.” I know he’s been lookin’ forward to it, but ain’t the countryside shoot the whole point of the trip?
HiMERU: —Yes. Amagi hardly takes the listener’s position into account in his explanations, so HiMERU had no choice but to inquire of the Vice President.
You remember the job we took on with the honey maker, right? Upon seeing it, a local TV station recommended us out.
They have started pushing for Crazy:B to promote local specialty products.
Kohaku: Hoh…. those kinds of secret deals were happening. I was thinkin’ for sure, they’re sendin’ us to get some work experience at a ranch.
We’d look at even the most piddling work and think, “might as well try it out.” I’m sure even the heavens are watching over our great efforts.
HiMERU: — —Hm. Is that really so.
Kohaku: ? Sounds like yer gettin’ at something. Is there something botherin’ ya?
HiMERU: For a while now, the view out the windows has been concerning.
Kohaku: Out the windows…..?
Rinne: Kohaku-chan, are you that excited about traveling after so long, ya didn’t sense it?
Kohaku: Even you, Rinne-han. When d’ja wake up?
Rinne: Just now. If you don’t rest up properly before working, you’ll lose your energy quick.
The studio bus is slowin’ down, I’d say we’re about to arrive.
Kohaku: Arrive?...... Weren’t we s’posed to arrive the next morning? It’s not even time for the sun to be out yet…..
Rinne: Look’ere. This entire time, you guys didn’t think anything was weird? Sure, closing the doors that tight is fine. But the blackout curtains completely shut like this leaving no gaps—
HiMERU: If you noticed too, you could have said something, Amagi. HiMERU is unfamiliar with studio buses—thanks to that, he belatedly noticed.
Rinne: Gyahaha ♪ Y’know they say the road to misfortune is paved with good intentions? Well that’s gotta mean the road to good fortune is paved with bad intentions ♪
Other words, this job with malicious intent behind it—my gambler’s intuition said “Accept it!”
HiMERU: What an unscientific thing to say. HiMERU probably would have made the same choice in the end, but he hoped he could at least brace himself.
There is too little information to deduce our client’s true intentions.
Kohaku: The two of ya seem to be in the know, so what’s goin’ on? Personally I don’t have the slightest idea!
HiMERU: We’ll know once we get off. It seems the bus has happened to stop now anyway.
Shiina, too, should wake up. Because soon, HiMERU will know what our situation is.
Niki: Mm…. So, where’s the beef tongue?
Rinne: Alright alright, I said we’re goin’, Niki! Make sure to stick with your group on a field trip, ya didn’t learn that at school?
Niki: Gyak!? I’d like it if you wouldn’t kick my butt as soon as I wake up!
Who d’you even think you are? Talking like that when you didn’t even go to school yourself!
Tumblr media
Kohaku: Wh, what is this place ‘ere….!?
HiMERU: A man-made maze—No, a labyrinth would be more fitting to call it. This is the first time HiMERU has actually stepped foot in one.
No matter how you look at it, we have been tricked into being dragged here.

53 notes · View notes
stewardofningishzida · 10 months
Text
Dr. Strange Meta-Fic Sequel!
PEOPLE! The Meta-Fic is back and strong as ever. So, here’s Chapter 1 of the sequel. Thanks to Trix, Tear, and PrettyWitch for sticking with us! Have fun and enjoy, everyone! TRIGGER WARNING: Cryptids, mention of blood, some horror elements, panic attack mention, language
Chapter 1:  Lingering Fragments
*It’s been 5 months since Stephen left. The world remained unaware of his visit, although strange sightings were constantly reported in the news. A glowing baby, a dodo bird, and HD photos of Bigfoot, to name a few. At first, we dismissed them as AI-generated images or possible side effects coming from the rift that Stephen and Wong had closed, but the latest picture of a chupacabra taken only 4 hours away from our town was too uncanny to ignore. I text the group.*
Me (text):  Hey…There’s been a lot going on and I don’t think we can ignore it anymore.  Should we try to check this chupacabra thing out and make sure nothing majorly wrong is happening?  I know it’s kinda far, but it’s closer than anything else reported.  What do you guys think?
Tear (text): It would be nice to confirm if this is all just more proof that AI is a curse, but I have to point out that there’s also the possibility that it could be real. If we do choose to go, we’ll need a plan for every single eventuality. I really don’t want a repeat of the mines.
Trix (text): No one needs a repeat of the mines.
PrettyWitch (text): I think we should go. I’ve been having weird flashes of some kind of monster lately, so it might not be such a bad idea.
Me (text):  Agreed.  I would like to not be caught off-guard and have one or more of us nearly killed.  Wait…Weird flashes, PrettyWitch?  Like visions or something?  You’re sure it’s not just nightmares from the weird news stories?
PrettyWitch (text): Maybe…I mean, I have been watching a lot of BBC Sci-fi and post-apocalyptic shows recently.
Me (text):  Hm.  Well…How vivid are these flashes and do they all have the same monster in them?  Like, describe these flashes.  At this rate, we should probably figure it out and confirm whether or not these ARE visions.  
PrettyWitch (text): Well, they usually start as an image that I swear I’ve seen before, almost like I’m having deja vu. Problem is, they’ve been coming more often and in weird ways. For example, sometimes I’ll feel off, like my body is reacting to this intense aura or something and then a few days later, something happens. It’s not always bad, but it’s been happening a lot recently. My mom’s even worried that something may be wrong with me. What’s funnier is that I’ve been seeing flashes of this monster whenever it happens, and the real kicker…I feel like I predicted we’d be having this conversation in a dream I don’t remember. In fact, I’m getting a sense of deja vu right now!
Me (text):  Weird…Also, seriously?  Erm…Okay then.  If this is what’s going on, taking into account everything else happening, then I suppose that these really might be visions.  Man…So much for the rifts being closed.  If we find that chupacabra during our search, then that all but confirms that they’re still open and actively spilling magical energy into our universe.  Which monster do you keep seeing, by the way?
Tear (text): Wong personally assured us he had closed them, though. With both him and Stephen gone, there shouldn’t have been any magical signatures luring other beings and monsters into our reality…
Trix (text):  These might not be from their universe but another one and that’s why we haven’t heard from them.
PrettyWitch (text): I keep seeing this dog-like creature. But its body is…longer than a dog’s would be. And it has these long, sharp claws and inhuman eyes.
Me (text):  Hmm…Well, Wong kinda said that the rifts would close on their own over time.  However, according to him, sorcerers traveling through the multiverse don’t usually stay longer than 24 hours.  Stephen was here for 2 weeks.  Even Wong said that it was unprecedented.  So, maybe the rifts are still closing or got torn open more because Stephen was stuck here for way too long?  Not sure.  As for the monster in the visions, that might be our beast.  If we find it.  What do you think, guys?  Recon mission?
PrettyWitch (text): Yeah. I’m all for that. 
Trix (text): I volunteer to be base camp!
Tear (text): …Guess there’s no helping it, then.
Me (text):  Okay.  Meet me in my driveway on Saturday.  If any of you have trail cameras, bring them.  We’ll also need plenty of water, sunscreen, and tough clothing that ventilates well so nobody gets overheated.  We also need a cooler.  I’m making a stop by the specialty butcher shop.  If it really is a chupacabra, we’ll need fresh goat blood.  That’s the only place I can think of to get it.  Maybe a few cups or small bowls to place in front of the cameras too.  That should work.  I’m hoping the thing doesn’t notice us and get aggressive.  If so, then the last things we may need are some baseball bats or any other weapons to get it off of us.  However, seeing as we aren’t Stephen and Wong, let’s try not to get noticed and shredded.  See you guys this weekend, Saturday morning.  I’ll get ready and wait by the car.  
PrettyWitch (text): Okay, but where are we gonna find fresh goat’s blood again?
Me (text):  The halal butcher shop downtown.  They sell goat meat there.  The local Indian restaurant nearby makes an amazing goat curry.  Anyway…Since the butchers process the meat, they should also have the blood.  
PrettyWitch (text): Oh okay.
Tear (text): Saturday it is, then. Be sure to bring as much protection as you can think of. Chupacabras have never attacked human beings, they usually prefer to creep and stalk only, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Trix (text): At least it isn’t vampires.
*After a few days of work and gathering materials, I grab the cooler from my garage, some bottles of water, a bottle of sunscreen, and various other supplies.  After putting them in the trunk, I wait for the group.  Tear is the first one to arrive.*
Me:  Hey, Tear.  Got as many supplies as I could.  Also found some of my old spare fencing armor.  It has a protective layer of kevlar sewn onto it.  So, it might come in handy.  It’s hot, though.  So, better to only put it on if things get really hairy.  
Tear: That sounds like a great idea. I asked my dad to lend me some of his tools and made these. *I pull from my trunk two baseball bats with long, thick nails hammered on their top end* I’ve watched enough zombie and horror shows to know they come in handy. Let’s just keep them hidden in case there are any road patrols… Oh! I also brought a few dog bite sleeves my uncle still kept after his stint as a trainer.
Me:  Good stuff.  Yeah…That stays in the trunk under the spare tire so it doesn’t look sketchy.  Okay.  Let’s think…Anything else?  Still have to wait for the others to arrive.  
*PrettyWitch is the next to arrive.*
Prettywitch: I’ve brought a couple of sleeping bags and a tent in case we need to camp out for the night. Oooh!!! I also brought some Hershey’s s'more packs if we want something sweet for later. And I think  I’ve got an Aero brand in here, too. And…a few books to read and some pen and paper for jotting notes on.
Me:  Awesome!  
*Trix arrives last.*
Trix: Sorry I’m late! Let’s get this started.
*Once we’ve packed everything into the car, we’re off.  It’s going to be a long drive into the desert.*
Me:  Everyone feeling okay still?  How are the nerves?  Oh!  Butcher.  Just a sec.
*I make the side stop to the butcher shop for the goat blood.  Trix and the others follow me in out of curiosity.  There are some tasty imported treats that we can buy there anyway.  The shopkeeper’s husband, Mr. Singh, is a recent immigrant.  So, his English is spotty at best.  He hangs back most of the time and talks to his wife in Punjabi.*
Mr. Singh (in Punjabi to his wife as he goes to get my order):  Goat’s blood?  What kind of request is that?  At least we recently processed some of the livestock…
*Trix frowns as she hears Mr Singh loud and clear compared to when he just recently talked to a customer hesitantly. She assumes he’s just shy and prefers to stay in the back but doesn’t note it as particularly odd.*
Me (noticing her expression):  Something up, Trix?
Trix: I don’t think so. But it looks like they have the goat blood for us. *Nods her head at Mr Singh discreetly.*
Me (oblivious):  All right.  I suppose I’ll go pay.
*Things go without any additional hitches.  Though I do notice that Trix looks a bit confused.  I didn’t notice anything different.  Mr. Singh always chats with his wife while working.  Though I have no clue what he’s saying.*
*Trix just frowns at a sudden headache and decides to just follow the others.*
*After a few hours, we arrive at the suspected site, a spot with limited pasture that is a few minutes away from the nearest farm.*
Me:  Okay.  So, first thing’s first.  Let’s lay low, keep quiet, and stay together.  Our first objective is to scope out some potentially good areas to place trail cams.  Here.  We can use my binoculars.  *I offer them.*
Tear: I think we should hone our cover story in case we run into anyone else. The press might be concentrating on stalking the farmers and locals, but the cryptid hunters might also be trying to make their way out here for their own investigations.
Me:  If anyone asks, then we’re wildlife biologists looking to see any potential predators causing problems.  That includes diseased coyotes and such.
Tear: *I hum in agreement* Mange is a rather nasty disease.
Me:  Yep.  The really bad cases often end up in wildlife rehab centers for a while.  Also, in case anyone gets suspicious, I can just blab some ecological jargon.  I still remember quite a bit from back when I was an environmental science major.  Just smile and nod.  Maybe point at a plant or animal and ask what it is and I’ll start talking about it.  That way, it makes us look like just a group of grad students.
Trix:  Just smile and wave friends, smile and wave. *She can’t help but meme at a time like this*
*I smirk at the joke.*
PrettyWitch: Sweet! I can pretend I didn’t graduate with a useless degree!
Tear: Alright, should be easy enough to fake. Let’s get this done quickly then before the heat gets to us. If we hurry, we can then nap until sundown so that we can spend the night surveilling our footage.
Me:  Onward, then.  *I put some sunscreen on and sling my backpack onto my back while also picking up the cooler full of blood.*
*We start looking around for any viable camera placement areas.  Any place we think might work gets a camera either strapped to a shrub or tied to a stake hammered into the ground.  I place a small cup of goat blood in front of each camera.*
Me:  That way, the sun’s heat warms it up and the smell can start to waft around.  Should tempt the thing more.  Whatever it may be.  Anyone see any potential issues with anything set up here?
Trix: Besides being outside? *Makes a face but is clearly joking at least a little bit.*
Tear: Other than attracting every animal that scavenges for carrion? We’re gonna have a long night ahead of us…
PrettyWitch: Oh yeah…Not to mention all the bugs and stuff that’s gonna try and eat us alive.
Me:  Will help to rule anything else out, I guess?  Most stuff doesn’t usually go for blood only.  So, since there’s no meat, maybe they’ll just cruise by or sniff.  If this IS a chupacabra, then they’ll really want that blood.  Ergh, yeah…I’m kinda glad I picked up some canned coffee.  Triple shot espresso.  That should do the trick.  Heh…I don’t have a problem at all!  *I half-joke.  Admittedly, I’m quite dependent on caffeine.  More than once, I’ve been caught bouncing off the walls after several cups of tea or coffee.*  We should take turns watching the cameras and surroundings.  That way, nothing can catch us by surprise.  Who wants to do the first shift camera and who wants to be the first sentry watching our surroundings?  That way, 2 of us rest and 2 of us are active at any given time.  *I think for a moment.*  Ehh…I can do sentry duty for the first shift since I was the one who had us all come out here.  Just need one other person to cover the camera footage.  Sound fair?
Prettywitch: Sure. I’ll be the first camera watcher, then. I wanna see if I was right or not.
Me:  All right.  Tear, Trix, you guys can rest for now.  We’ll wake you up either if something happens or our shifts end.  Deal?
Tear: Deal. Just remember not to charge in and go investigate on your own if anything does happen. Wake us all first.
Trix: I absolutely will not be running towards any monsters.
Me:  I’ll be careful.  Not liking the idea of getting jumped by anything in the dark.  If any of us sees anything, we’ll holler to wake the others.  I’ll patrol our campsite with my machete.  I carry it in my hiking bag anyway to help cut small branches for kindling.  Can wear my fencing jacket to protect my torso.  In the dark, it looks enough like a normal coat for people not to notice.  The kevlar in it should make sure nothing can get to me too easily.  Let’s set up camp and then Tear and Trix can get some sleep.
*We set up the tent out of sight of the road and farm so we’re harder to spot.  I put a few of my old field guides, a calculator, and a notebook in the tent just in case someone comes around and starts asking questions.*
Me:  Again, if anyone asks, we’re wildlife biologists.  Good?
Tear: *I nod.*  Don’t wander off too far.
Me:  I’ll be sticking to the perimeter of camp.  If I get too close to any of the bait or cameras, it might not show up.  So, I’m not going to disturb them.  *I open the canned coffee and drink it.*  There’s more if you guys want it.  I bought 4 cans.
*When night falls, I hand PrettyWitch the phone with the camera feed, put on my gear, grab the machete, and head out while Tear and Trix settle down to sleep.  I’m very quiet with only the soft padding of my footsteps to be faintly heard.*
Prettywitch: *Is currently walking around with a camera in one hand, and a bottle of pepper spray in the other. The whole time she’s thinking she’s glad she never saw “Blair Witch” or she’d be even more freaked out than she is now. Pulls out her phone to text Steward.*  Hey; I just remembered I didn’t have time to research Chupacabras before we got here. What am I supposed to be looking for, exactly? Not appearance wise, just more like signs to look out for.
*I text PrettyWitch back*
Me (text):  Chupacabras go for blood as a main food source.  So, if the thing starts eating or licking up the blood from the cups, that might be a sign.  Also, if you hear animals screaming from the farm, it might be an ongoing attack.  They mutilate livestock.  I put the cups of blood right in front of the cameras as bait.  So, hopefully the cameras will show it coming over to feed.  I can hear your footsteps, by the way.  You don’t have to patrol.  It’s just a wireless camera feed on the phone.  That way, it’s easier on you and you can concentrate on the screen.  
PrettyWitch (text): Alright. But I’m keeping the pepper spray with me!
*The first shift passes fairly uneventfully.  So far, only a curious opossum has come by to sniff at the bait.  I head back towards the tent to wake up Trix and Tear so we can switch shifts.  However, I hear PrettyWitch call us.*
Prettywitch: Uh…Guys! You might wanna come see this.
Me:  Huh?  *I hurry up and get over there.*
Tear: *I wake up and blearily look at the time in my phone’s screen before shoving at Trix next to me* I think that’s our cue to change shifts… *I yawn and clamber out of my sleeping bag, instantly missing its warmth*
Trix: “Please tell me that nothing has happened.”
PrettyWitch: Well, that’s what I’d love to tell but, um…Yeah… *She holds the camera to Steward so she can see the footage.*
*I look at the camera feed and my expression gets more and more shocked as I watch.*
Me (quietly):  Oh shit…That’s not good.  That is REALLY not good…
*I try to text Stephen again.  Though I know that it most likely won’t work.  It certainly hasn’t worked the other times I’ve tried.*
Me (text, to Stephen’s phone):  We have a problem.  If you ever get this message, please help.
*The same red exclamation point shows up as usual.  I curse under my breath.  Then, I look back at the camera.  There’s…something…staring right back at us.  It isn’t just looking at the bait or the camera.  It seems like the thing is looking directly at US.  The creature has a dog-like face with eerie, blank eyes.  Its frame appears to be a hunched-over humanoid with spines along its back.  Not to mention the long claws at the ends of thin, skeletal fingers.  There is an uncanny sort of intelligence in its gaze.  I can feel a chill running down my spine.*
Tear: *Peeking through the flap of our tent, I see you huddled over the phone and look back at Trix.* Looks like we did get something… *We move over closer so that we can look at the footage over PrettyWitch’s shoulders and my blood instantly chills* That, my loves, is no mangy dog…
Trix: Welp. That’s a big fat nope from me.
PrettyWitch: Yeah. Same.
Me (mouthing this silently at the group):  What the hell are we supposed to do now?  
*I take several screenshots to save as more evidence.  In the time that I do that and the files save, the creature has disappeared.  We hear a faint rustling near the camp.  It’s dead silent.  Now, not even the crickets are chirping.  I give the group a look.  I know EXACTLY what’s going on.  This is the very same silence that I encountered that day I was stalked by a mountain lion while hiking a few years back.  I know precisely what it’s doing.*
Trix (Absolutely about to have a panic attack): We let it have the goat blood and call park rangers to helicopter us the fuck out of here. That or we pull off a miracle and do Stephen things out of nowhere. 
*Since this isn’t any state or national parkland, we don’t have that option.  So, I quietly gather my friends close to me and clutch my machete tightly, ready to defend us if needed.  When I hear more rustling close by, I turn on a flashlight and aim it at the nearby scraggly shrubs in an effort to deter it.*
Me (growling):  Fuck.  Off.  *I’m in defensive mode right now.*
Tear: Nope, staring it down is not gonna work. *I grab at Steward’s shoulder and pull the entire group back into the tent before zipping the flap back closed.* We need lights and tons of music. Loud music. Make it believe there’s more of us here than there is and it won’t dare to approach.
Trix (actively sobbing): We better not be the next Blair Witch project or I am gonna haunt the shit out of all of you.
Tear: *I give Trix a small smile, as shaky as it is, trying to comfort her.* It might stalk around a bit, but Chupacabras have never attacked people before. Damn, it is ugly though.
PrettyWitch: Tell me about it!
Me (quickly to resolve the situation):  Okay.  Radios and phones on, people.  *I turn on the portable radio to blast some rock music.  “Helter Skelter” by The Beatles blares from the speakers.*
*Trix is still sobbing but follows the instructions.*
Tear: *I open Spotify and set up a podcast before moving our belongings into vaguely shaped lumps to cast shadows over the tent walls* Different voices means more people, right? If any humans come to ask, we just thought it was a good idea to bring booze to our research trip.
Me (pretend whining, though just to add to the noise and make it sound like we’re a group of research students):  Guys…Our PI is gonna kill us!  We gotta keep it down!  *I’m playing along while also watching for any signs of more trouble.  Meanwhile, I help Tear move a few more items to make more convincing silhouettes.*
Tear: Has it looped back to any of the cameras yet?
*PrettyWitch checks the cameras, the tension still high.*
PrettyWitch: *Shakes her head*  Doesn’t look like it.
Tear: Shoot, it must still be over on this side then… *I take in the inside of our tent* Trix, the flap on the window next to you keeps coming off the velcro. Can you keep it fixed somehow?
*Trix tries to help but is shaking a bit too much to keep a hold of things. As she digs through our supplies for some tape, she drops her flashlight and it startles her for a moment before she picks it up. She looks up to find the Chupacabra staring at her through the uncovered slit of the mesh window. It is sitting less than a foot away, close enough that our light reflects off its white eyes. Its sharp teeth are on full display due to what we can now see is a terrifying lack of lips. Trix screams.*
***To be continued***
5 notes · View notes
munsons-mutiny · 1 year
Note
with the fic you lost some parts, depending on where you wrote it you might be able to recover some of what you lost. if you used word or google docs you might be able to get at least some of it back through your save history/ previous versions or through recover unsaved versions.
if youre unsure how to do this you can google the program you used and "recover lost document" or "access save history"(like "google docs recover lost document") and there'll be instructions on how to do this.
i hope this helps!
Hey there I really appreciate the tip! I tried going that route but unfortunately the problem is I was using word through a subscription to my university account. So when I graduated and my account was closed I lost a bunch of personal files as well. And didn’t realize until it was wayyyy too late to recover them. I didn’t know that word files linked to the account would disappear even from my documents. The files I still have all say they haven’t been modified since like August 18th even though I was actively working on this story through September.
If anyone does have any ideas on recovering them I’m all ears! But I feel like I’ve tried every trick I know, even tried contacting the school.
0 notes
queenie-the-writer · 2 years
Text
appreciation post — 4 days to one year!
@/starpillow_
where else could i start but with one of my first, longest, and closest friends. to think that if i never started this account i never would have met you, my platonic soulmate, loml. you’re there for me in the good times and bad and everything in between. you are one of the strongest, most selfless, beautiful, and kind souls i have ever encountered. words cannot begin to describe how much i love you
@/persephonewritess
PERSEEEE. literally from the moment i saw your account i knew i wanted to be friends with you and i wouldn’t change that for the world. we haven’t known each other long but it doesn’t feel like it matters. you’re just super nice and fun to talk to and I LOVE YOU SOOOO MUCHHHH
@/mayawritesstories
(HEY LOOK ANOTHER ONE OF MY POSTS YOURE TAGGED IN!) our friendship is a blur of account tips, life ranting, chaotic lateeee night convos (i’m talking 1am, possessed washing machines yk), screaming, fangirling, and a lot of other crazy shit. the fact that you literally just messaged me as i’m writing this at almost 12am proves my point i think. lmao love you to death cookie monster
@/roza_loveswriting
you’ve literally been here since the beginning omg. honestly the sweetest person i’ve ever met through my account and to think we’ve been through this entire journey together is crazy. you beta read LoB and are one of the first and most hardcore fans of the story and characters (#ambriacult where u at). i cant even begin to express how grateful i am for you <3
@/aurorae_writes
sadly you aren’t active rn and idk if you’ll see this but i could not leave you out if my life depended on it. you’ve also been here since the start and are one of the most supportive friends i’ve met here. you beta read LoB too and became an instant fan, joining the ranks of the fandom and the #ambriacult, and i love you endlessly for that. i wish you all the best in your writing and your life and whatever comes next!
@/thenovelcorner
HI JORJA, MY WRITING BESTIE THROUGH AND THROUGH. it has been such a ride with you gsjdhskdbc i lwk trust you with my life. i am OBSESSSEDDDD with your wip and this is my formal request for mira’s hand in marriage (dw caed is welcome too as you know polyamorous relationship and such ;)). i love youuuuu but also hate youuuuuuu but also love youuuuuu at the same time
@/hjwritess
it was the bonding over sjm, more specifically crescent city and the release of hosab and ruhn danaan for us. ugh but no ilysm even tho we’ve only known each other for a few months you’re literally one of my besties and idk what else there is to say. you’re brilliant and funny and talented and so nice omggg ily hj <3
@/fictionalturtlenecks
idk when i became the person you went to when you needed help brainstorming for your freaking IMMACULATE posts (i still don’t know how you post 24/7 maam) but it happened and it’s always when it’s late and i’m just abt ready for bed so my brain is wacko and yeah. you get it. granny needs her brian to rest. lmfao. tired brains + chaotic convos + post brainstorming = cOnTeNt and some great besties >>>
a bunch more amazing friends who deserve shoutouts <3
@/fallonswriting
@/calliopewritess
@/sailorwrites
@/jenwritess
@/rox.writess
@/the.writing_corner
@/liv.for.writing
@/mcpending
@/_fableandink
and one last thank you
which would be to you, wonderful reader of this right now. whether you’ve been here since day one or found my account just now; whether you left a like in passing or shared one of my posts to your story bc it made you laugh or you related to it or it helped you; whether you took the time to write me a comment or replied to one of my stories or sent me a dm just to say hi or how much you liked my account; thank you. if it weren’t for any of you, i would not be where i am today. i love every single one of you so much <3333
1 note · View note
thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Let Them Talk
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female) ft. Sykkuno
Warnings: Swearing, Jealousy
Genre: Fluff, a bit of Angst
Summary: We can all agree Among Us is a fun game on its own but what makes it ten times better is playing it with the right company. Y/N could agree 100% Being a streamer herself, she loves playing with the streamer gang that includes her boyfriend and best friend. But, what happens when her boyfriend starts doubting her feelings for him due to her close relationship with her best friend.
Requested by @cheetoscat . Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took so long to write, I hope the final product is worth the wait. Enjoy! Love, Vy ❤
Y/AU/N - Your Among Us Name
I settle in my gaming chair, adjusting my webcam one last time before joining the Among Us lobby with my friends. 
“Hi everyone!“ I say into the mic, a smile plastering itself on my face. Discord is a magical thing, man. It’s so easy to forget that the people you are talking to aren’t around you or within arm’s reach. You could be separated by miles and miles of land or - in our case - oceans as well. Distance becomes negligible when you hear your friends’ voices, their laughter; when you have a good time together despite being each behind a screen, often times alone.
Well, I’m one of those lucky ones that isn’t alone. No one knows that, though. Everyone thinks I’m a single, self-employed girl that’s straight out of college. And they are 90% right. Only thing is - I’m not single. That would be a shocker in and of itself, but revealing who’s changed my relationship status would be a bomb with a whole new intensity.
Speaking of my significant other who shall remain unnamed - just kidding, it’s Corpse - his form materializes in the doorway of my recording room. I give him a hand signal the camera isn’t able to capture, alerting him of the fact that my mic is on. He replies by blowing me a kiss and walking off down the hall to his recording room where he’ll be stationed for the next three or so hours.
I owe this relationship to my best friend Sykkuno. I’m a pretty new and not very well known on the platform, however, thanks to him I haven’t only obtained a boyfriend, but a following of a little over million subscribers as well. 
It all started with an invitation to fill a spot in the Among Us lobby him and his friends had created. It took him quite a bit to convince me to join, but I eventually caved and agreed. Suddenly, there I was. In a Discord call, in an Among Us lobby with some of the most well-known names on this platform. I’m talking YouTube legends. I was that puppy playing with the big dogs. The newbie tagging along with the big leagues. Or at least that’s how I felt until we all started vibing - talking and teasing each other as though we’ve known each other for years and not minutes.
When I joined the call, Corpse wasn’t present. After everyone else introduced themselves, Sykkuno informed me that we were waiting for Corpse to return. The name sounded really cool to me and I was genuinely very excited to meet this Corpse guy.
And then, out of the blue - no prep, no warning...
“Did you get someone to fill the spot? Oh- Hello, Y/AU/N.“ 
…he started talking and he had me star-struck. Apparently, he also had me a blabbering mess cause I remember blurting out: “Whoa, who’s this guy speaking in bold and underlined at the same time?”
The entire lobby, including Corpse, laughed. Sean, or Jack like they called him most often, answered my question, “That is the voice of God, Y/N. Its source is named Corpse, though.”
Heat spread from the bottom of my neck to the tips of my ears. I was mortified by my own stupidity. I was well aware they couldn’t see me and I was incredibly thankful for that, but I simply could not get myself to open my eyes. “I’m so sorry.” I said through nervous laughter.
“No, no, I like that description. Bold and underlined at the same time, huh?“ His voice sounded even more pleasant when it had that teasing, mischievous note to it. That thought popping up in my head only made things worse for my self-esteem and only made me more embarrassed, causing me to hide my face in my hands. “You sure it’s not in Italics as well?“ 
His question got a weak laugh out of me. “Nope, definitely not. Nothing Italic about it.“
Yes, I don’t even know how some terrible jokes about MS Word fonts got me as far as a romantic relationship, but they did! We’ve been living together for quite some time now, dating for even longer - hiding it just as long. It’s not that we have been actively trying to hide it or something, we just wanted to see how long it would take someone to become sus of us. When we realized no one would notice, we decided that if any rumors about us started, or even fans shipping us, we’d come clean. That hasn’t happened either, so we haven’t had the proper chance to address our relationship and neither of us minds.
At this point, I’m honestly afraid of revealing it to the gaming squad. Sykkuno especially. He’s my best friend, after all. I can see him being hurt by the fact that I kept a secret so big even from him. The last thing I wanna do is hurt my best friend but it’s already too late for that, it’s inevitable.
“Y/N have you looked at Twitter today?“ Rae, another streamer I’ve become close with over the months, says urgently.
Overlooking the tension in her words, I answer: “Nope, haven’t had the time. Why? What’s up?“
Before Rae can say anything else, Sykkuno joins the conversation, his voice somehow even more urgent than Rae’s. “It’s nothing, Y/N. If you see it, just don’t let it bother you, ok?”
Hearing such a tone from Rae isn’t unusual, but hearing it from Sykkuno is completely different and a lot more worrisome. “Well if it has the potential of bothering me it can’t be nothing. What’s going on?”
Just then, my phone dings with two notifications. I check to see they are messages from Rae.
“I sent you screenshots. Sorry, Sykkuno. She has to know in order to address it and defuse it as well. I know better than anyone how fast these rumors can spread, especially if no one reacts to them.“ She says, her tone barely apologetic at all.
I open the screenshots she has sent me and I find myself frozen in shock. Some old pictures of Sykkuno and I have been posted on Twitter by some random user. These pictures have started an entire thread of suspicions surrounding our relationship.
The pictures in question are from a New Year’s Eve party a mutual friend of ours held two years ago. Sure, in the pictures we are a lot closer than what would be considered a platonic proximity. And yes one of the pictures is of me kissing his cheek. Yes we were both a bit tipsy. I acknowledge all those things and yet none of them are concrete reasons for these rumors to have started piling. 
“This is silly.“ I finally say after maybe five minutes of silence on my end. ”This is absolutely ridiculous! And why are people so serious about it as well? Actual, important matters get discussed more nonchalantly than the potential relationship between two online personalities! What is this world we live in?“ I know I shouldn’t let these rumors get to me like this, especially not on camera. Still, I can’t help it. I feel it’s so unfair to Corpse. He has to put up with this as well and it’s by no means easy for him. I’ve been shipped with people from our group in the past and he always took those rumors to heart despite acting like he didn’t care. Neither of us should get worked up, but him getting upset about them creates a domino effect with my emotions - causing me to be hit just as hard as him, in some cases harder.
Rumors of the past aside, this one is the worst by far. Mostly cause even Corpse himself suspected something between Sykkuno and I at the very beginning, when we were still acquaintances, barely crossing into the realm of friends.
I pull up Twitter to look for the whole thread, barely sparing my stream chat a glance in the process. It seems pretty split - those who agree with me and those who think Sykkuno and I make ‘such an adorable couple’. The thread is ridiculously long, and if we take into account that it was only started approximately five hours ago, you can either view it as impressive, amusing or sad. Why sad? Because someone has dedicated so much time and effort into fueling the fire of a weakly supported theory.
I love Sykkuno with all my heart. Everyone knows that - fandom, streamer squad, Corpse and Sykkuno included. I love too much and too platonically to ever even dream of having a romantic connection with him. I thought that was more than obvious, but people are either blind here, or just grasping at straws. One thing’s for certain - they’re stepping on a nerve.
“Hey where’s Corpse? Did he disconnect?” Felix asks, gaining my full attention. My eyes dart to the monitor, searching through the little avatars in a desperate search for the one of my boyfriend. It’s nowhere to be found.
“He just messaged me saying his connection is unstable but he might join us later.“ Rae says, “You guys can invite someone to fill...“
“Bathroom break.“ I interrupt, not waiting for a response before shutting my mic off, putting the ‘BRB‘ graphic on my stream and yanking the headset off. I basically run down the hall to Corpse’s recording room, my heart pounding like a bass drum.
“Corpse?!“ I call out to him, one hand already on the doorknob. When five seconds pass by without a response, I barge in. 
Inside, I find his usual spot on the gaming chair empty and his slumped figure seated on his bed.
“Corpse?“ I try again, watching for even the tiniest change of body language. He remains still as a statue, not bothering to look up at me either. 
His hands are gripping the edge of the mattress, his head hanging low. His eyes are covered by the short curtain of his dark messy curls. I can’t gauge much. Is he angry? Is he sad? Both? How should I approach the situation?
Before I find the answer to any of those questions, I am kneeling in front of him, our height difference eliminated. I gently pry his hands off the mattress and take them in mine, holding them firmly but tenderly. With one hand I reach up to tilt his head so his eyes can meet mine. He complies, his tear-filled brown orbs meeting mine. Those tears have the same effect on me as fifty sharp knives stabbing into my chest. These tears focus their attack straight on my heart, tearing it to pieces.
“Baby....“
He cuts me off, “Why is it always someone else, huh? Do they deem me not worthy of being with you? Do they think you deserve better?” His voice wavers, “Well, they might be right. They are correct and there’s little I can do to prove them wrong. They mean you well, Y/N - pairing you with guys better than me. Those are some loyal fans you’ve got. They only want what’s best for you. And so do I. If ‘best’ is being with someone else then...”
It’s my turn to cut him off. I put an end to his nonsense ramble that’s slowly killing me by pressing my finger against his lips. The sternness of my gaze is beyond me as I get up and walk over to his computer setup. I put on his headset and hop into the call as well as the lobby with his avatar.
“Hey Corpse’s back!” Toast says, “Good to have you back buddy.”
“No, not Corpse.” I say in a casual, nonchalant voice.
“Wait, wha-“ Sean’s voice shows just how confused he is, representing the confusion of the entire lobby actually.
“I know all of you are streaming so this message will be heard by several different audiences so I’m gonna make myself perfectly clear.“ I take a deep breath, “Sykkuno and I aren’t dating. He’s a lovely guy and he deserves to find a girl who will treat him right. That girl isn’t and won’t be me though. I am already treating someone right. Someone who treats me more than right as well. An amazing person. A man-child with a heart of gold. You know him, to a certain extent. He goes by the name of Corpse Husband, but I prefer to call him ‘Love of my life’. Thank you for your time and attention, goodbye.“
I exit the call and turn around to find a stunned Copse looking at me.
“That was meant for you just as much.“ I say with a fake strict attitude, one hand on my hip the other rested on his desk behind me, “Were you listening?“
Within milliseconds, he’s on his feet standing directly in front of me, his lips inches away from mine. “I heard and memorized every word. But...” he pauses for a moment, “I think you have no idea how big of a chaos you just created.”
I smile mischievously, “We’ll worry about that later. For now...” I close the gap between us, connecting our lips in a sweet and passionate kiss. 
@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams  @the-fuck-up-of-today  @slashersdream  @chiefwombathoagiepizza  @solowheein @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01
2K notes · View notes
babydaddyleorio · 3 years
Text
Having a s/o that goes ghost
Tumblr media Tumblr media
characters mentioned: itadori, megumi, maki, yuta, and inumaki
Tumblr media
Itadori
-Itadori would be very sad, but understanding of your situation.
-Because this happens periodically, he can tell when you’re about to leave. Your fast replies tend to take longer now and you start to barely post on your account as the days go by.
-As soon as he sees that you deactivated one of your social media’s, he feels a bit gloomy because he knows that he won’t be able to talk to you anymore (especially if that was your only means of communication with each other).
-Tends to scroll down his timeline, patiently waiting for you to come back again.
-And his face literally brightens up whenever he sees that your account is restored again and he would definitely be the first one in your inbox.
-He sends you memes expressing how much he’s missed you, and let’s you know that life was just simply boring without being able to talk to you.
-But other than that, your conversation basically resumes the normalcy it usually has. It’s not weird or awkward since you’ve been gone for a while. In fact, the course of it still feels almost natural.
-And because of that, Itadori would spend all night talking to you, filling you in on everything that’s happened in his life and listening intently to everything that’s been going on with you.
Megumi
-Would be kind of annoyed that you left without saying anything.
-Megumi is very to himself and doesn’t like engaging with people when he doesn’t have to, but obviously when It comes to you he feels differently. That is why when you take hours to reply to his text he is definitely salty and grumbling angrily to himself that you’re doing it again.
-He definitely complains to Gojo about the way you shut everybody out when you need help the most and Gojo looks at him like “Don’t you do the same thing?”
-Megumi looks back at him in utter disbelief because Gojo did not have to call him out like that.
-Still, Megumi thinks that you should tell him If you were stressed or just simply leaving since he was your boyfriend after all. He didn’t like fostering the thought of not being able to help you when something was bothering you, plus he hated that most of the people he cared for typically left him alone without warning.
-Of course, he still understands in a way that you probably needed a break from everything, so he’s not too harsh.
-But expect a very grumpy and sour Megumi whenever you finally respond or see him again.
- “Hey Megumi-”
- “No.” He cuts you off immediately while rolling his eyes, but quickly ends up pulling you into the tightest hug shortly after.
Yuta
-He does not take this well.
-Yuta has separation anxiety, so the thought of you leaving him makes him very sad and anxious.
-He would be confused when he notices that you haven’t been active lately and even more on edge when you don’t budge when It comes to him directly contacting you.
-He would probably be attached to his phone at that point, always looking at it in hopes that you would finally hit him up again but would frown when being left empty handed.
-He’s definitely sulking and his friends would try to cheer him up, but you not being there makes It hard for him to focus straight.
-Panda would legit have to physically find you and explain what’s happening, resulting in you video calling Yuta to ease his nerves.
-When Yuta sees that you're trying to reach him, his dejected mood does a complete 180 and he’s answering the phone faster than lightning itself just to hear your voice.
- “Y/n, hello? Can you hear me? Are you okay, did something happen-”
- “I’m fine Yuta, I just needed some time to myself.” You would state with a light laugh before going into detail over why you left.
- “Okay, just please tell me when you want some time alone, you had me worried.” He responded with serious eyes and you nodded your head in agreement, smiling afterward once Yuta began to ramble about how much he’s missed you.
 Maki
-Understands that you’re probably stressed so she gives you some space whenever she notices that you’re distancing yourself.
-Things such as social media, talking with people, and just life overall can be overwhelming for you, and she's very considerate of the possibility of you having social anxiety or just wanting to have peaceful solitude from time to time.
-So she waits patiently for you to log on again because she knows that you eventually will.
-Now If It’s been more than a couple of days, Maki does tend to get a little concerned. Not too much, but enough to try to call you herself and leave you a voicemail that lets you know that she was just checking up on you.
-As much as she hates to admit it, Maki really misses you and your well being has been weighing on her conscience a lot. So much so that It’s been messing with how she performs during training sessions and her missions.
-You are someone that Maki can almost always talk to when It comes to expressing her feelings and just being herself, and she feels like a part of herself is incomplete when you’re not around.
-When Maki finally sees your name flashing on her screen signaling that she’s getting an incoming call, she can’t the small grin that falls on her face before clearing her throat and answering.
- “Took you long enough.”
Inumaki
-Immediately thinks “Did I do something wrong?”
-He’s not a fan of whenever you disappear, and he thinks that something has happened whenever you don’t respond to his texts.
-Inumaki is the type to literally pull up to your house with his arms crossed, feet tapping impatiently, and a scowl on his face like “So, what’s good?” 
-When you explain to him that you just needed some time to be by yourself since it’s therapeutic, Inumaki reluctantly understands but still gives you a side-eye for leaving him in the dark like that.
-Because Inumaki too can’t strain himself with talking too much, he relates your problem back to his and can eventually wrap his mind around that some people really do need a break to recharge their social battery. 
-So he’s not too upset and he’s honestly just relieved that you’re okay.
-Will demand that you cuddle him since he’s been touch deprived for so long and will want you to warn him the next time you consider doing this.
281 notes · View notes
perlukafarinn · 3 years
Text
(ao3)
The day starts out pretty unremarkable. Dean wakes up at the crack of dawn to Cas slipping out of bed for his morning jog. He pulls him down for a good-morning kiss that turns into a make-out session that turns into them trading lazy handjobs and then falling asleep in each other’s arms again. 
Their actual start to the day is around ten AM, when Cas finally gets up for his jog and Dean gets up for his cereal and a scroll through the morning news. He’s on the look for hunts, mostly out of habit since there’s been very little monster activity since Chuck went and fucked off for good. He doesn’t find anything this morning but that’s hardly a surprise. It’s been a couple of weeks since they’ve been out on a hunt and that inactivity, weirdly enough, is starting to bother him less and less. 
Cas comes back from his jog about an hour before noon and with the mildest of prodding convinces Dean to join him in the shower. Afterwards, they throw together a lunch made from yesterday’s leftovers, taking their time eating and playing footsie under the table, because that’s apparently the kind of couple they are.
Usually by this time of day, Cas would be off in the Men of Letters’ library working on translations or cataloging and Dean would be on the phone helping Garth help out young, out-of-their depth hunters or in the garage, working on one of the beautiful but sadly neglected vehicles left behind there decades ago. 
Today, both of them are seemingly feeling kind of lazy and so hardly any work gets done. It’s not until late in the afternoon that Dean feels the urge to do something productive and suggests they go out for groceries, which Cas readily agrees to. 
The ride into town is quiet. Cas plays his mixtape - the damn thing should be worn out by now and Dean should  long since be sick of it but for reasons too sappy to mention he isn’t - and they sit and listen in comfortable silence. It’s not until they pass the town hall on their way to the supermarket that Cas gets a contemplative look on his face.
“Should we get married?”
Only years of experience behind the wheel prevent Dean’s hands from twitching wildly and veering them into oncoming traffic.
“What.”
Cas looks over, frowning. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Is there any reason for us not to get married? We’re already planning on staying together for the rest of our lives.”
“Is there any reason-” Dean wheezes. “What the fuck, Cas? Is this your idea of a proposal?”
“Are you saying no?” Cas asks, mildly curious, as if they’re talking about the fucking weather and not getting married. “Because we don’t have to.”
Dean stares ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you actually asking?”
“I suppose I am.”
“You ‘suppose’,” Dean mocks. “Gee, Cas, that’s real romantic.”
“Will you marry me?”
Dean pulls over. It’s far too sudden, probably leaving tire tracks in the concrete, and the driver behind them honks his horn loudly as he passes. Dean ignores him, taking a deep breath as he finally turns to face Cas. 
“Are you sure?”
He doesn’t really have to ask - Cas wouldn’t have brought it up if he wasn’t sure - but he needs to hear it. 
Thankfully, Cas seems to get that. “I want to marry you, Dean. Do you want to marry me?”
“Son of a bitch,” Dean breathes. “I mean - yes. Yeah, I do.”
Cas nods decisively. “Alright then. Now?”
“Now?”
It’s not exactly how Dean imagined this scenario would go (not that he - shut up) but it’s somehow the most romantic fucking thing that’s ever happened to him since Cas first told him he loved him. And hey, this time no one had to die!
They turn around, since there’s no point in going in without (forged) birth certificates. Once they get to the town hall, shortly before closing, they find out that it’s a three-day mandatory waiting period between applying for a marriage license and them actually being allowed to get married.
Cas suggests they use the interim time to pick up wedding rings. They wind up spending the next day driving to Topeka, where they find a couple of silver rings in a pawn shop. They’re tarnished but otherwise in good condition and once they get home, Dean spends the rest of the evening cleaning them while trying very hard not to think about just what they’re for.
The second day, Cas spends out back tending to his garden while Dean almost dials Sam’s number repeatedly before hanging up, torn between wanting to let his brother know that he’s getting married and not wanting to jinx it.
The third day, they head back into town. They arrive at the town hall just after it opens and it’s not until they’re standing in front of the clerk that Dean realizes they don’t have any witnesses. The clerk assures him that they don’t need one for civil ceremonies and the next ten minutes pass in a blur until Dean is being prompted to place the ring on Cas’ finger.
He does so with shaking hands, stilled only once Cas places one of his own on top and gives Dean a patient smile. He’s this calm for a reason, Dean finally realizes.
This doesn’t change anything.
Married or not, they’ve already promised themselves to each other for the rest of their lives. Til death do them part doesn’t even begin to describe it, and in sickness and in health is almost laughable at this point.
This really doesn’t change anything.
Dean’s own hand is still as Cas takes his turn, sliding the silver ring upon Dean’s finger. They say their “I do”s when prompted by the clerk, exchange a short, firm kiss, and just like that it’s over.
They’re married. 
*
When Jody invites them to dinner about a week later, they still haven’t told anyone. Sam and Eileen will be there as well as Jack and the girls - it’s a regular family reunion and the perfect chance to announce the big news to everyone.
Dean has a better idea.
“Let’s not tell anyone,” he says. “At least, not before dessert. Let’s see if they notice first.”
They’re in the Impala, about half an hour away from Jody’s place. 
Cas shoots him an amused look. “Is this because Sam claimed he always knew we’d get together when we first told him we were involved?”
“No,” Dean lies. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, seeing Cas still giving him that look from the corner of his eye. “Fine, yes. But he didn’t know, for the record. He just likes to pretend he’s always on top of this shit.”
“He doesn’t like to admit when you’ve surprised him,” Cas agrees.
The conversation ends there but Dean’s plan is apparently agreed upon since once they arrive at Jody’s, Cas doesn’t say a word about their recent relationship upgrade. Jody doesn’t seem to notice anything different, but then Dean didn’t expect her to. She’s not the one they spend most of their time around. Neither do Donna, Alex, Claire or Kaia, none of them surprises. Patience, Dean is less sure about, but she at least doesn’t say anything. Her eyes do linger unusually long but that could mean anything.
Damn psychics.
Sam and Eileen arrive half an hour after Dean and Cas, Jack in tow. This is the real test; Sam and Dean may not spend as much time together in the past few months as they did in the years before but he’s still the person who knows Dean best and would be the most likely to notice a difference.
And yet, nothing.
Dean tries not to feel too smug.
They go through dinner without anyone mentioning it. Dean makes a point of reaching across the table as many times as he can, showing off the ring glinting on his finger. Cas must notice him doing it, judging by the fond exasperation on his face, but he’s the only one.
It isn’t until dessert that Patience breaks, patience (hah) clearly run out:
“Is no one going to mention that Dean and Castiel are wearing wedding rings?”
And all hell breaks loose.
Sam is wounded - mostly over Dean and Cas not telling him before they got married, though Dean can tell some part of it is his pride at not seeing this coming - but he’s over it soon enough, once they explain that it wasn’t a big deal, not some proper ceremony, just a quick affirmation of what they already knew.
“See if I make you Best Man at my wedding after this, jerk,” Sam tells Dean.
“Your wedding?” Eileen asks pointedly. 
Jody and Donna offer their congratulations before the conversation can get awkward, and Kaia, Alex, and Patience chime in with theirs as well. Jack looks confused at the whole proceeding, finally asking whether this means there won’t be any bouquet to catch, which only means Dean has gravely failed him in his pop culture education (oh, who’s he kidding, as if half the romcoms Jack has watched didn’t come directly from the recommended tab on Dean’s Netflix account). 
Finally, with a pointed elbow from Kaia and a hangdog expression from Cas, Claire mumbles that she’s happy for them. While Dean doesn’t doubt that’s true he also knows that this is more complicated for her than the rest of them, and for the first time he kind of feels guilty about springing this news on everyone. 
It doesn’t last long, not after Donna cheerfully raises her glass and proposes a toast to the happy couple and everyone else follows suit. They chant for them to kiss and, blushing outrageously, Dean complies, leaning over to press a quick kiss against Cas’ lips. 
“So, who proposed?” Sam asks once the hooting and hollering has calmed.
“Cas did,” Dean says, slinging an arm around his husband’s - his husband’s - shoulders. “And it was the least romantic proposal of all time, you should’ve heard him.”
Cas rolls his eyes. “If I had left it up to you, we never would have gotten married.”
“He didn’t even give me time to pick out flowers,” Dean informs Sam gravely. 
“There’s always the vow renewal,” Cas says, the casual statement managing to sound like a threat, and Dean shuts up. 
The conversation moves on, the mood noticeably cheerier. As Jack and Sam launch into a story of their most recent hunt, Dean leans against Cas.
“We could have flowers, if you want,” he mutters. 
Cas smiles at him, so bright and easy that it makes Dean’s heart stutter. He takes Dean’s hand, rubbing his thumb over the cool silver of Dean’s ring.
“That’s not necessary,” he says. “I’ve got everything I want right here.”
959 notes · View notes
Text
Pressing Issues
*Dick Grayson x Reader
*Summary: Detective Dick Grayson has never been annoyed by another person as much as journalist Reader.
*Warnings: Swearing, talks of gun violence (relevant to a case Dick is working on), mention of robbery (case mention), cop stuff. Let me know if I missed anything.
*A/N: I made a post talking about this idea a while ago and finally wrote it.
Tip Jar
**********
When Detective Dick Grayson stepped on the scene, he didn’t expect anything different from what was told to him on the way there. He went about doing his thing - talking to the officers on the scene, chatting with CSI - when he heard his partner let out an exaggerated groan. Dick looked over, confused at the noise. His partner just rolled his eyes, nodding towards a woman with a press badge. “Man, why’d they send her?”
“Who’s that?” Dick asked. He’d never seen her before, but she was definitely attractive. He’d had a few press statements on other cases, and he never really saw the issue with the press. Maybe that was just from growing up around Bruce and all the media attention that brought, but the journalists he’d spoken to in Bludhaven had never been rude to him.
“That’s (y/n), she’s a monster.” His partner provided no further explanation as the woman walked up to them.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but you can’t be on the scene,” Dick immediately said. He was surprised the other officers didn’t stop her at the tape.
“Right, but those officers weren’t giving me any answers,” she told him. His partner let out a laugh.
“Grayson, you can deal with her, just get her out of the tape,” his partner said.
“Rodriguez, always nice to see you.” She smiled at his partner, but her tone was dripping with sarcasm. “Haven’t gotten any better at your job since the last time we spoke, have you?”
“Grayson, get her out of here.” Rodriguez lost any amusement he had with the woman, and Dick knew he should get the journalist out of there before things escalated even further. Dick led her away from the scene, right to the edge of the tape but away from the small crowd that were always nosing around scenes.
“Detective Richard Grayson, how can I help you out?”
“(Y/n) (L/n), lead crime journalist for the Bludhaven Gazette. I wanted to get a feel for the scene before we put anything out about it,” she explained. “Anything you can share about what happened?”
“Alright, well we have two males hit in a drive-by, one dead on the scene. We don’t know much about motives or anything, but we’re suspecting rival gangs based on the fact this happened in a grey-zone,” Dick told her. It would be vague enough to satisfy her readers, but didn’t put anything too speculative out there. She was shaking her head as she wrote down what he said. “Wait, what’s all that about?”
“What?”
“The head shaking? What, you don’t agree with the police statement?” Dick was trying to joke with her, but he was still confused.
“It’s not a grey-zone, but I wouldn’t expect the cops to know that,” she said, challenging him. Dick tried to think back to his nightly activities, trying to figure out if he missed anything with how the city was divided. As far as he knew, this area was unclaimed. “Right, so that’s it?”
“Well, yeah. We just got on the scene not too long ago.” She just hummed, and he wasn’t sure if it was in acknowledgement or disapproval. “Hey, what’s your beef with Rodriguez?”
“For a Detective, he’s shit at his job,” she told him, clicking her pen as she put it back in her bag.
“Care to elaborate?”
“A kid got snatched, broad daylight, and Rodriguez was the lead on the case. Gave up after a few days. I dunno where you’re from, but where I’m from, we don’t give up like that, especially on a kid,” she said. “I wrote articles talking about it, and Rodriguez doesn’t like me because I called him out on it.”
“Wow, you’re pretty cutthroat,” Dick said, whistling lowly.
“I just don’t give you guys any slack. Be good at your job and you have nothing to worry about.” She smiled at him before turning on her heel and walking away. He watched as she put her phone to her ear, probably talking to someone back at the office. She scared him a little, but he was always up for the challenge.
**********
Rodriguez was right. Dick was always down for accountability, but the way you brought it into his life was a bit much. Every time there was even the slightest hint of a development, you were there with your opinions about what he was doing wrong, and if you ever had any praise for him, it was so sparse he couldn’t even tell it was praise. He was just trying to look through some files to piece together your little cryptic ‘it’s not a grey-zone’ hint, when Rodriguez tapped on his desk.
“What’s up?” He asked, looking up at his partner.
“You got a visitor.”
“God, don’t tell me…”
“Surprise, your worst nightmare is here, Grayson.”
“Aw, I got a new nickname?” You asked Rodriguez as you dropped in the chair next to Dick’s desk. Dick had to stop the groan from escaping him, really not wanting to deal with you.
“She’s your problem now,” Rodriguez said, walking away. Dick almost wished he could go with him.
“Alright, (L/n), what is it now?” Dick asked, putting down his files.
“You have ID on one of the victims and it was a guy with no connections to anything on the Underground, but no progress on the shooter? C’mon, Grayson, I thought you’d at least be better than Rodriguez.”
“I’m working with what I have,” he huffed, fighting the way he wanted to roll his eyes.
“You’re not looking at all your options. Put away the gang files, they’re not the ones you should be looking at,” you almost ordered him. “I’m practically doing your job for you at this point. I gotta run, I have an interview.”
“You’re leaving the Gazette?” Dick was almost hopeful. That would definitely make things easier on him.
“No, smart one, I’m the one doing the interviewing.”
“Wow, who would’ve guessed with your shining personality,” Dick shot back, finally annoyed.
“I’m a ray of sunshine, just not with cops,” you said with your fake little smile before leaving him there. It took everything to not slam his head against his desk.
**********
Dick always thought he was good under pressure, but this was intense. With your little article that came out the day after you talked to him - apparently your interview was with the victim’s wife - public pressure was increasing on the department tenfold. He hated to admit it, but you were good at what you did. He was almost pissed off at himself after reading the article, and that was saying something.
He needed to close this case so he could get you off his back, and he needed to do it fast. Not only did you put pressure on the department, now his superiors were putting even more pressure on him. He knew you were cryptic with what you knew, but you wanted him to put together the pieces. When he was out for his nightly patrol, he was trying to piece together what little hints you dropped.
Dick had to admitted he was silently fuming as he sat on the rooftop across from the scene of the crime. After all, what did you know? It’s not like you had access to the databases he did, both legally and in the legally grey. What did she mean it’s not gang-related? It has to be, this is disputed territory right now. 
And of course something sketchy had to happen while he was doubting you. A black town car pulled up to the block, someone getting out of the passenger seat and scanning the area before going back to talk to someone in the back. Dick cursed as he grabbed his binoculars, trying to watch the scene closer to see if he could get any more information from the sketchy scene. He zoomed in on the man in the backseat, a guy dressed in an expensive-looking suit wearing sunglasses at night (like an asshole), silver rings adorning his fingers.
“No way,” Dick mumbled, taking a picture of the rings to send to Barbara later. One of them in particular looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place it. “How the hell did she…”
After whoever it was seemed satisfied with how the scene looked, the person got back into the car and it pulled off, the tires screeching in the quiet of the night. As soon as Dick finished his patrols for the night, he sent the picture off to Barbara. She called him as soon as she ran the picture. “Hey, where’d you see this guy?”
“By the scene of that drive-by a couple weeks ago,” Dick explained. “I recognize that big ring he’s wearing on his middle finger, but I have no idea where from. Can you help me out?”
“Yeah, that’s a Baglio family ring,” she told him. “I can’t get an ID on the guy, but you remember that Italian family we were having trouble with out here? Same family.”
“Damn, she was right then. Technically not gang related. Hey, does the mob count as a gang?”
“I mean, technically, but they aren’t really recognized as gangs when it comes to like popular recognition. Does that really matter, though?”
“It’s a matter of me being technically right, so yes.”
“You’re annoying, has anyone told you that lately?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
“Okay, good talk then.”
**********
Actually having a solid lead meant that he was able to close the case a lot sooner than he previously thought. Sure, he wasn’t able to actually bag whoever was in the back of the town car, but he was able to track down the shooters. At the press conference announcing the arrest of the shooters, he could see you right there in the front row with the other reporters. Dick caught your gaze for a second, and he almost missed the small nod of approval you gave him. For a moment, he thought he’d finally get on your good side again.
Then again, the peace could only last for so long. Every single case he was on, he could bet there was an article about it soon to follow. You’d appear at every crime scene, moving on from antagonizing Rodriguez to finding Dick and immediately bothering him. You’d drop your little cryptic hints when he was having trouble with cases, and somehow they’d actually be useful once he decoded them. The thing that probably bugged him the most was how you managed to get to his desk almost every day he was working on particularly difficult cases. You never let him get to the point of forgetting about cases, especially for the ones that involved people that stayed away from the Underground.
He could understand not wanting cases to go cold, but the fact that you were coming into the precinct every single day to bug him about developments was a bit much. Dick could handle a healthy amount of shit talking, but there was just something about your shit talking that got him on edge. Everything about you just got under his skin, and seeing you so often was really not helping that out. It got to the point where he started trying to avoid you just to keep his sanity.
“Grayson, (L/n) just got on the scene, you wanna run?” Rodriguez asked as soon as he spotted you talking to the officers at the tape. Dick quickly looked around, trying to find someplace he could disappear to. The only real option would be to go look like he was talking to the CSI team, but he didn’t want to disturb them actually doing their jobs. Before he could make a decision, you were already approaching.
“Grayson, stop running from me. You know I know where you work,” you called out to him.
“I should really get you banned from the precinct,” he shot back, a small frown on his face. 
“You know you’d get bored without me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So, whatcha got for me?”
“Why are you talking like you’re on this case? Technically I don’t have to tell you anything more than the other officers told you.”
“So what I’m hearing is go ahead and write whatever I want.”
“For fuck’s sake-”
“Ooo, that’s the first time I’ve heard you curse. I like it. So, what’s the news?”
“It’s a robbery, one injured, but we have a couple witnesses and it sounds like we have a pretty solid perp description. We’re just waiting for the witnesses to meet with the sketch artist and then we’re sending out the sketch to the papers and news outlets,” Dick told you. “There, satisfied?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. Glad this one’s an easy one, I’d hate to have to write about you again,” you told him, turning around with a small smile on your face. “See you later, Grayson.”
“I sure hope not,” he decided to call after you. He could faintly hear your laugh, but the thing that caught his attention was the fact that you decided to flip him off as you walked away. Dick froze for a second, not sure if he should be highly amused or pissed off. He settled for somewhere in the middle, leaning more towards being pissed off.
When you put out your article, it was a simple, tell the details, share the perp sketch type of article. Dick was pleasantly surprised that there were no real call outs about him; as a matter of fact, his name was only mentioned once with the request that anyone who sees or has information about the suspect contact the tip-line immediately. He smiled at his laptop, taking the lack of criticism as praise. He was even willing to take the shit talking from Rodriguez, because as far as he was concerned, Rodriguez was just jealous that he never got this type of reaction from you.
**********
Dick didn’t realize he actually somewhat enjoyed your company - if he could call it that - until you stopped bothering him. You moved on from targeting him, bugging other detectives and officers about their open cases. He would hear complaints, as well as some pretty unsavory things, about you from the people you were bothering, and he was surprised about the amount of times he almost jumped to your defense. You were the biggest pain in his ass - constantly bugging him about his cases and making sure that he didn’t forget about your existence - so why did your disappearance bother him so much?
He got used to seeing you around the precinct (just not talking to him), but then he noticed when you stopped showing up. You didn’t show up to crime scenes, you didn’t show up to the precinct, you just weren’t there anymore, and that worried him. He tried asking around about you, seeing if maybe you were there and he just didn’t happen to run into you, but he met the same response: relief that you’d stopped coming around. It got to the point where he was checking the Bludhaven Gazette’s website to see if you’d written any new articles. Nothing.
Dick figured there’d be no way to really contact you; it wasn’t like he could just call your job and be like ‘hey, why isn’t this journalist bothering me anymore?’. He tried pushing you to the back of his mind, but he found himself still looking for you. It annoyed him - even when you weren’t there, you still managed to find a way to bug him. Before he knew it, a month had passed without seeing you. Then, as he was trying to schmooze up to a DA at the Policeman’s Ball, he could hear the telltale groan of another officer. You were there.
Sure enough, there you were in a black cocktail dress, a flute of champagne in hand, talking to someone he vaguely recognized from a different precinct. He wanted to excuse himself from his conversation just to see where the hell you’d been, but he knew he couldn’t risk it. He’d just have to find you later.
Then you slipped away yet again. Dick kept seeing glimpses of you here and there, but he could never catch up to you. It wasn’t until you went to the bar that Dick finally found his opening. You were talking to someone, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He slid up beside you at the bar, ordering a drink. He could see you straighten up at the sound of his voice, knowing he had your attention. As he took a drink of the whiskey in his cup, he turned to look at you.
You were a lot more done up than you normally were when you were working, but he couldn’t say he strongly preferred either. You looked amazing either way, just in different ways. “(L/n), funny running into you here.”
“Grayson,” you greeted, taking a sip of your own drink. “I can hardly believe this is an accident considering the way you’ve been watching me all night.”
That took him off guard, just enough to make him choke on his drink for a second. As soon as he regained his composure, he tried to figure out how to come back from his blunder. “Well, yeah. I thought I was seeing a ghost considering how you just disappeared.”
Not his best work, but you gave an amused smile so he would count it as a win. “Aw, you missed me.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. It was just weird not being bothered every second of my work day.” You tipped your glass back, the last of your drink passing your lips. He watched as you swallowed before putting the glass back on the counter, leaving some bills folded under it.
“Ah, I see. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Grayson.” You stood from your seat, giving him one last look before turning to disappear back into the crowd. Dick would have to work fast if he wanted to catch up to you before you slipped through his fingers yet again. He paid for his drink and left a tip as fast as he could, scanning through the crowd for you again. You were about to disappear down the hallway towards the bathrooms, and he still had to make his way through the crowd as politely as possible while also avoiding conversation. Damn social conventions. 
You walked down the hall, wanting to escape to the bathroom for a few minutes to compose yourself, when you felt a hand around your wrist. You whipped around, not knowing who would be daring enough in a room full of police, just to see the last person you wanted to. “Grayson, let go of me.”
“No,” his voice was firm before he realized it must’ve been a little jarring to just get grabbed. “Sorry, but no.”
“What do you want?”
“Why are you even here?”
“It’s my job. I’m reporting on this damn thing,” you practically hissed, trying again to tug your wrist free from his hold. “Why do you care so much?”
“You’ve been MIA for a month and then suddenly you just appear here of all places? What gives?” He said, stepping towards you. You took a step back, trying to keep the distance, but your back just hit the wall behind you. You were forced to look up at him, the storm in his blue eyes surprising you. Why did it matter so much?
“I got sick, alright? My editor thought this would be an easy returner,” you snapped, trying to maintain your glare with him. It was a little difficult with how close he was to not get flustered, but you did what you needed to. “Why, did you miss me?”
You could tell that pissed him off by the smallest flare of his nose, but before you could take in the victory, he hit his arm on the wall above you. He kept it there, trapping you between his body and the wall. He wasn’t pressed against you just yet, but you wouldn’t be opposed to it if it was. “Why do you like pissing me off so much?”
He really didn’t see the opportunity he presented you with. You grabbed his tie the slightest bit, giving him the chance to pull away if he wanted to. When he didn’t, you used it to pull him down to your eye level. “Have you ever considered how fun it is?”
There was a moment of pure silence between the two of you, the faint noise of the party still going on just down the hall reminding you that you weren’t actually alone. Your gaze flicked down to his lips for just a moment, and then it was over. You don’t know who closed the distance first, but it didn’t really matter. The kiss was heated from the beginning, messy with tongue and teeth but you weren’t going to complain about it. Your hold on his tie tightened, pulling him closer to you. Dick’s arm moved from pressed against the wall above you, one hand fisting in your hair and the other wrapping around your waist to pull your body against him.
“God, I hate you,” Dick panted soon after he broke the kiss.
“Why do I get the feeling you don’t?” You tried teasing, even though your voice was a lot more airy than you would care to admit.
“You annoy the hell out of me.”
“I’m a journalist that doesn’t give cops any wiggle room, of course I do.” He rolled his eyes, making you smile. You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “But you still missed me.”
“I guess I did. Do you maybe wanna get out of here?” You raised your brow, knowing he had to know how that sounded. It took him a second, but it finally clicked. “Not like that! Get some food or something. You probably aren’t annoying all the time.”
“You underestimate me,” you joked, making him smile. He has a pretty smile. “But I’ll take you up on that. Just make sure you behave yourself.”
“You’re the one who kissed me!”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” You freed yourself from his arms, making your way back down the hallway towards the exit. It took him a second, but you heard Dick following close behind. He pressed a hand to the small of your back, making sure you wouldn’t slip from his fingers again.
**********
Dress Inspiration
Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber
113 notes · View notes
dameronology · 3 years
Text
love in the time of PTA meetings {marcus moreno} - 1/5
summary: despite what pinterest shows, being in a parent in the twenty first century is hard; especially a single parent. your kid takes up your entire life and the idea of finding a fairy tale is laughable - that is until you finally attend a p.t.a meeting and cross paths with a certain marcus moreno.  {series masterlist}
warnings: i do not have children. i don’t know children work. this written entirely what i have seen them do in the sims 4. also, swearing. 
- jazz
Tumblr media
Leaving work early was never a good look.
Leaving work early because your child had managed to set fire to a trash can was...well, it was something else entirely.
After rushing out of a very important meeting and parking your car in a did-you-park-it-or-crash-it manner, you were sprinting across the play ground and towards the front entrance. Having given up half way through, you’d kicked your stupidly high heels off and held them in one hand, trying to organise your slightly disheveled hair as you entered the building. Most parents might have been nervous to collect their kid after a call from the principle, but this was a regular Tuesday for you. Jack was a good kid, perhaps just a little...misguided. In your books, it was impressive that a five year old had managed to discover pyrotechnics, though you sensed the school might have been a little less lenient about it. 
‘Hey!’ You greeted the principle with a smile as you breezed through the doors. 
Jack was in a chair by the front desk, a gleeful look on his face when he saw you. As far as he knew or cared, he got to go home early and watch Paw Patrol for the rest of the day. 
‘Afternoon.’ He replied. ‘You’re lucky it was only a phone call.’
‘I know, I know.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m sorry. He’s...adventurous-’
‘ - he singed off his class mate’s eyebrows!’ The principle cut you off. ‘Given Monday’s biting incident, I see it fit that Jack take the rest of the week off.’
‘Right.’ You sighed. ‘Thank you. And sorry again.’
‘I’ll email you a list of...behavioural specialists.’ He muttered.
‘There’s nothing wrong with my kid. He’s just...curious.’ You insisted. ‘C’mon, buddy. Let’s go home.’
Jack sprung up from the chair, taking your hand in his and skipping out the door beside you. Parenting had been hard enough when you’d been married, and even harder now that his dad was out of the picture. It meant that everything fell on your shoulders; school runs, packed lunches, earning money, staying sane. You barely found the time to sleep, let alone go to soccer matches or take him to extra curricular activities. It meant that the stay-at-home mums - the ones who drove minivans and had specified walking shoes and shared memes about parenting on Facebook - muttered about you. 
I heard Jack’s mum couldn’t make it to the parent-teacher association meeting because there was a divorce hearing. 
Look at the kid’s lunch! Oh the saturated fat, the horror!
What do you MEAN your five year old isn’t vegan?!
Frankly, you wanted to whack them over the head with their own damn vision boards. So what if your kid was a little rough around the edges? He’d discovered fire today! If it had been in the stone ages, that would have been impressive. The kind of thing that would have earned him a McDonald’s, had the fast food chain been around at the dawn of time. With the way things were going, paired with the fact you knew your fridge was empty, it looked like you were heading for a Happy Meal anyway. 
‘So do I get all week off?’ Jack peered up at you, tugging on your arm.
‘Yup, all week.’ You sighed. ‘But it’s not a reward, okay? It’s...’
You stopped in your tracks when you saw Marcus Moreno’s car pull up in the lot. Naturally, it was expensive and electric and perfectly between the white lines. He gave your less-than-stellar parking a frown as he breezed by - not that you noticed. Frankly, you were too busy admiring him. You saw his face more on the news than you did in person, but he was beautiful. Talk, dark, handsome and mysterious, but also...friendly and approachable. He’d held the door open for you once two years ago and that had been it for you. There had been whispers about the fact he was a widow, though you’d tried not to pay attention to them. It wasn’t anyone’s damn business. You knew he was a good dad; you’d had the chance to meet Missy when Jack had got his head stuck between the playground fence and she’d helped pull him out. She was sweet and well-behaved and clearly well brought up. Could you say the same for your own kid? Eh, parenting was all trial and error. 
‘It’s what?’ Your son’s voice dragged you back to reality. ‘Am in trouble?’
‘What?!’ You jumped at the question. ‘No, I just...’
‘Because Principle Eikner said I’d done something bad.’
A small sigh escaped your mouth; placing his backpack on the ground, you knelt down to his height, gently placing your hands on his shoulder. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong, little man. We're just gonna take a few days out to talk about the rules and what it means to do the right thing, okay?’
‘Dad always said not to listen to the rules.’
‘Your dad said a lot of things.’ You reminded him. You stood back up, offering your hand to him. ‘Let’s go home.’
After a few minutes of bartering and the promise of a McDonald’s, you finally made your way back to the car, now with Jack attached to your back. If giving him a piggy back ride meant getting home quicker, it was a price you were willing to pay, especially since the other mums were starting to arrive to pick up their kids. The parking lot was slowly filling up with minivans - compared to your decade-old Honda Civic. It had seen better days, and one too many run ins with other cars and parking lot bollards. Still, it got the job done. 
‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you!’ You froze in your tracks again. This time, it wasn’t because of Marcus Moreno’s otherworldly presence, but rather due to the sound of the resident soccer mum. 
‘Carol.’ You turned around to face her (slowly, given the five year old on your back) with a forced smile on your face. ‘Hi.’
‘I take it you’re here for the parent-teacher’s association meeting?’ She gave you a phoney grin, handing you a leaflet. ‘I know you couldn’t make the last one, because of your...d-i-v-o-r-c-e hearings.’ 
‘I can spell!’ Jack chirped from behind you.
‘It’s okay, buddy.’ You reached up to ruffle his hair, smile not faltering. ‘But yeah, you’re right. And what about it?’
‘Nothing.’ Carol quickly shook her head. ‘So you are coming to this one? It starts in ten minutes.’
Truth be told, you’d no idea there was even a meeting tonight. You usually ignored the damn things until the news letter came out, and then you could read it from the comfort of your sofa with a glass of wine. There was nothing you stopping going tonight, aside from your intense hatred for them. 
‘I wanna get home and watch South Park!’ Jack chirped from behind you.
‘I don’t - I mean...I don’t let my five year old watch South Park.’ You said. ‘He walked in on me watching it one time and...point is, yes, I’m here for the meeting!’
‘No, you’re not-’
‘- Jack, just sssh!’ 
Carol blinked in surprise, but her phoney smile returned a moment later. ‘Excellent! I’ll see you inside.’
You inwardly groaned. Why had you just done that? You fucking despised sitting in a stuffy gym for the better part of an hour, listening to the perfect mums bang on about healthy eating and limiting their kids’ internet time. You already questioned your parenting skills as it was - the meetings only made it worst. You didn’t assimilate into that crowd; they were all married, with big houses out in the ‘burbs and bank accounts that could cover their kids ever-expanding interests and activities. Meanwhile, you were living on one wage and your two-bedroom apartment had a balcony, not a back garden. If Jack wanted to go on a field trip, you usually had to save up for months. You didn’t know if you envied the other mums’ lives, but you certainly weren’t jealous of how they viewed working mums and single parents. 
‘That lady is mean.’ Jack murmured from your shoulders.
‘Yeah buddy, I know.’ You nodded. ‘Guess we’re going back to school.’
--
Lugging the kid and his bag back up the school yard and towards the building was exhausting - at least it was your work out for the week done. By the time you’d reached the gym and placed Jack back on the ground, your shoulders were aching and you were disappointed to see that the refreshments didn’t have any alcohol. Was it too late to sneak out? The fire exit was right there and-
‘- shame this thing doesn’t have any wine, huh?’ A man was stood next to you, arms folded across his chest as he stared at the luke-warm jug of coffee on the table ahead. 
Tall, dark hair, stubble and with a faint hint of expensive aftershave you pretended not to notice? Hello, Marcus Moreno. Goodbye, ability to form coherent sentences.
You blinked in surprise. ‘Yeah. I could do with a glass. Or ten.’
‘So you hate these things too, huh?’ He smiled. 
‘With a passion.’ You returned the gesture. ‘I’m only here because Carol and her Karen Committee kept muttering about me not being at the last one.’
‘Yeah, same here. I was attending an emergency meeting about nuclear arms in Vienna, but I guess this is more important.’
‘I was...’ in court, signing documents to end my marriage, ‘otherwise occupied too.’
Marcus nodded in understanding. ‘Kids alone are a full time job, huh? ‘Specially when you’re the only one who’s running around after them.’
He knew about your situation and in return, figured that you knew about his. He’d heard the whispers about the divorce and presumed that the loss of his wife had been subject to similar gossip. The environment amongst the parents was shockingly similar to high school and things got around pretty quickly. You both hated it, especially given the nature of both your circumstances; death and separation was not something other people should have been talking about. Especially when you all you wanted to do was mind your own business and raise your damn (chaotic) kid.
‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ You replied. ‘My kid is like...a baby crackhead, as well. He’s been sent home twice this week and it’s only Wednesday.’
‘Oh, Jack’s your kid?’
You let out a groan, holding your face in your hands. ‘Yeah. Famously so, apparently.’
‘No, it’s not a bad thing!’ Marcus chuckled, pulling your hands away. ‘He played a brilliant baby Jesus in the Nativity last year.’
‘Aside from when he bit one of the three wise men, yeah.’ You could feel your cheeks heating up. ‘Missy actually helped him once. She seems really...not at all like my child. Which is good.’
‘She told me about the fence incident.’ He nodded. ‘May I ask why he was shoving his head out of the school gates?’
‘He saw an interesting looking slug.’ You replied.
Your conversation was interrupted by Carol, who had now climbed up on stage. She tapped the microphone and cleared her throat, gesturing to everyone to sit down so that the meeting could start. You wanted to curse her. Whatever giddy conversation you were having with Marcus was a thousand times more interesting than the PTA. At least you could revel in the fact he didn’t want to be here either.
‘Shall we?’ Marcus gestured to two empty seats a few rows back.
‘I mean, it’s an aisle seat, which is good for a quick escape if Jack decides to be Jack,’ you nodded in agreement. ‘Hey kid, c’mon!’
Turning away from the other kids, Jack sprinted towards you, hurling himself into your lap as he sat down. You let out an oof! and a groan. He wasn’t as light as he used to be a toddler. He stayed still for a moment, tiny hands clasping yours, before he realised who you were sat next to. The kids’ impression of Marcus was not quite the same as yours - he’d only seen him on TV, with the likes of all the heroes. You couldn’t remember their names (but in your defence, they were kind of ridiculous). 
‘Are you a superhero?’ He reached up, poking Marcus in the cheek. 
‘Jack!’ You hissed. ‘You can’t-’
‘- yeah, buddy.’ Marcus ruffled his hair. ‘But it’s my day off today, so I’m doing all this boring stuff instead.’
‘Can you fly? Do you know Miracle Guy? Have you fought aliens? Do you have a super suit? Do you know Iron Man? Wait! Can I be a superhero?!’
‘No, yes, yes, no, no and maybe when you’re older.’ He counted the questions off on his fingers. ‘But for now we have to keep quiet for the meeting. That would make you a superhero.’
--
You wanted to marry Marcus Moreno.
Seriously, you wanted to marry him.
His little comment had kept Jack quiet the entire meeting. And it was a long fucking meeting indeed. The last time he’d shut up for that long was...probably before he learnt to talk. You loved he was full of curiosity and questions, but he didn’t always understand that there was a time and a place. At least now you knew what would shut him up. 
‘How does Miracle Guy fly? Is Batman real? Are you rich? Do you know Wonder Woman? How does her lasso of truth work?’
‘Jack.’ You groaned. 
You were walking out of the school now and down towards the car park. Missy was in tow, tapping away on her phone, whilst Jack trotted alongside you and Marcus. He’d been spewing questions at the poor man pretty much since the meeting had ended - and yet, he seemed happy to answer them. Excited, even. It was clear that he loved his job.
‘You gotta give Mr Moreno a break, little man.’ You said.
‘Hey, just Marcus is fine.’ He replied. 
‘Hey Just Marcus, I’m dad.’ Missy chimed from beside you, not even looking up from her phone. It was...impressive, actually.
‘I already regret buying her that.’ Marcus murmured. 
The two of you eventually reached your cars. The Civic was still terribly parked across two spaces - you were a good driver, you’d just been in a rush. The dents and scrapes all over the doors and bumper implied other wise but hey, we move. You had a thousand and one other things to save up before a new car. Putting down the deposit on a house - one you could actually own, maybe a little further out from the city - was your number one concern. Paying off your divorce attorney came after that. 
‘It was nice to meet you properly.’ You pulled your keys out your back, tugging four empty packets of crisps and three bags of gummy worms with it. 
‘I’m not done asking questions-’
‘- you gotta let Marcus go, JJ.’ You peered down at Jack. ‘Sorry. He’s a little obsessed with the Heroics, but I guess you’ve worked that one out.’
‘Can I visit your base?’ He continued, ignoring you. 
Marcus knelt down to his height, a grin on his face. ‘I’ve got a free window tomorrow afternoon. You wanna come by? Your mum tells me you’re off school for the rest of the week.’ 
‘Really?’ You blinked in surprise. ‘I mean, I’m sure he would love that but I’m at work and he’s gotta go to my mum’s.’
Your mother also doubled up as your baby-sitter. In an ideal world, you would have been able to afford a professional, but this was very much the opposite of an ideal world. It was the real world, and you were constantly juggling a thousand things at once. Never in a million years would you have changed it but there were days when you wanted to cry. When it was 9PM and Jack suddenly chimed in that he had a science project due the next day, or when he refused to eat his dinner because his chicken nuggets weren’t shaped like dinosaurs and fed them to the dog. 
Marcus looked, on the surface at least, like he had his shit together. He worked in a public facing job and he always looked put together. His car wasn’t covered in bumps and bruises and the inside probably wasn’t covered in yoghurt like yours. He seemed as though he got more than five hours sleep a night and his child was well-behaved. 
‘I’m sure we can work something out.’ He said. ‘If you give me your number, I’ll give you a call.’
‘Uh, yeah! Of course.’ He’d asked for your number. No big deal. 
You switched phones - naturally, his was much more high-tech than yours - and entered in your respective numbers. The whole thing made you admire Marcus even more; he didn’t have to have your tyrannical son over to his office, yet he offered to. He’d clearly seen how excited he’d gotten and it seemed like he’d found it endearing. 
‘Are you okay?’ Marcus asked quietly, suddenly putting his hand on your shoulder. ‘You suddenly zoned out.’
‘Yeah, sorry.’ You rubbed your eyes. ‘I got about three hours sleep last night. I would blame it on the terrible twos but I guess it’s the...fucking awful fives?’
He quickly turned his attention to Jack, opening the car door for him. ‘You wanna hop in? I’m just gonna talk to your mom about you visiting, yeah?’
'There’s Cheetos in the centre console!’ You called after him.
Once Marcus had shut the door, he turned around to face you. There was silence for a minute, and he just kind of...stared at you. You couldn’t read his expression or quite figure it out, but he had an eyebrow quirked and a look of...concern? Sympathy?
‘I recognise that look. It’s the help! I’m suddenly a single parent to a five year old and it feels like the world is eating me alive look.’ He said. ‘It’s the exact same one I had six years ago. Missy was about Jack’s age when...when it became just me and her.’
You softly smiled. ‘It’s not been easy.’
‘You’re doing a good job, okay?’ He gave your shoulder a light squeeze. ‘And if you ever need him off your hands for a few hours, I’ll gladly give him a tour of our headquarters.’
‘Thank you. So much, for both of those things.’ Your eyes fell to the ground. ‘It’s a refreshing change from Carol and her Pinterest boards and half-assed invitations to potlucks.’
‘God, I can’t stand all that.’ Marcus chuckled. 
‘I gotta get back now because I can see that Jack is about smush Cheetos over my break pedals but I’ll...’ you trailed off, forcing yourself to look at him and smile. ‘I’ll call you.’
‘I look forward to it.’ 
516 notes · View notes
five-rivers · 3 years
Text
Danger First
Chapter 10
.
@pocketramblr :)
.
One day - and not even a whole day, because of travel time and Inko wanted Izuku home for dinner- simply wasn't enough time to master a quirk. Although he could turn Float on and off, now. So, they made plans to come back next week, and the next, up until the sports festival. Which. Wow. Really was only two weeks away.
Izuku had never realized how close to the beginning of the school year it was.
He was going to die.
"You're not going to die," said Mr. Yagi. "I'm not going to say the sports festival isn't important, because it is, it's one of the best ways to make professional connections for students, but not doing well isn't the end of the world, especially not in your first year. No one expects you to be perfectly polished."
"But," said Izuku, "I'm supposed to be the next you! I've got to stand out, right?"
Mr. Yagi looked very guilty. "I... may have given you that impression when we were first training, yes. But, since then, with all my research into the past holders... few of them were popular, flashy heroes. If you want to walk the same path as me, that's great. But you don't have to. Even I didn't really start that chapter of my life until after college."
Izuku looked down at his hands, letting silence fill the space between them as he contemplated Mr. Yagi's words. "This isn't about me manifesting One for All differently, is it?"
"What? No, no of course not, my boy. I mean, it certainly helped me come to this conclusion, I wouldn't have done so much research without it! But I certainly hope I would have come to the same conclusion eventually, even so."
"Okay..." said Izuku, still dubious.
"I mean it," protested Mr. Yagi. "Most of my work is essentially underground, you know. There's a reason the battle trial was what it was."
"H-huh? You? Underground? But you're so recognizable!"
"Am I? I firmly believe in bringing all my resources to bear in the fight against evil! Ha ha!"
His laugh devolved into a cough, and he fumbled for a handkerchief. But he recovered quickly enough.
"I guess that makes sense," said Izuku, cautiously, once he thought Mr. Yagi wasn't going to start coughing again.
"You didn't think I stayed number one by popularity alone, did you?"
"I- the formulas the Hero Commission uses to determine rankings are secret, and it only includes spotlight heroes, so when I extrapolated the hero billboard rankings, yes, I assigned a high weight to popularity. There were always some discrepancies between my predictions and the end results, but I figured I missed some events, or the commission assigned them different values…"
"That's quite impressive, my boy. But, though popularity is a factor, the HPSC does take unpublicized fights and rescues into account. Assuming you report them…"
That was the second time Mr. Yagi had mentioned not telling the commission something.
"Do you, um, do you do that a lot? Not tell the commission things, I mean."
"Eh? No, no, I try to stay up on my paperwork. I get a lot of help from Naomasa, though. Some heroes, especially independent ones, without an agency, do have trouble keeping up, sometimes."
"It's just… the other day you said something about not telling the commission about All for One."
"Ah," said Mr. Yagi. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "You're quite right. How should I put this… The HPSC knows All for One exists, and I have made them generally aware of his modern exploits. I haven't told them about his ability to give quirks, though they may know through other avenues, there are certain battles I've had with him that I haven't told them about, and they do not know about One for All."
“Why not?”
“Villains aren’t the only ones who seek power,” said Mr. Yagi. “The HPSC provides a vital service, and I think what one does matters more than why one does it, but… it is my observation that many of the people there are more concerned with personal power than doing the right thing. And positions of power and authority tend to draw in those who would abuse those things."
"Even heroics?"
"Especially heroics. The HPSC Ethics Review Board is supposed to stop that, but no system is perfect." He shook himself. "But look at me! I was trying to give you a pep talk, not saddle you with doubts about the government!"
Izuku laughed, nervously. "I mean, you've definitely distracted me from the sports festival…"
“Yes. The sports festival. Don’t worry about making a big spotlight combat debut. If you want to focus on rescue, or investigation, or the underground, I’ll support you all the way.” He paused. “You do need combat, though, because, because of-”
“All for One?”
“Yes, exactly. All for One.”
.
“Way to kill the mood, guys,” said Banjo.
“I think the mood was thoroughly dead already,” said Yoichi.
“Unlike your brother,” said En. “Ninth’s father.”
“Come on, it was just a little omission of information. It wasn’t even a lie!”
“It was definitely a lie. You’re so lucky that my relief about you not being a pedophile eclipsed my righteous fury regarding your mendacity.”
“You know, the fact that you’re delivering that completely deadpan gives me doubts about the fury part.”
“I’m mad at you.”
“You love me.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t be mad at you.”
“Hey, hey, wait a minute,” said Nana, making a ‘T’ shape with her hands. “Time out. Ninth’s father is All for One.”
“Yes,” said Yoichi, hanging his head, “I thought that had been established.”
“So, are we… What Toshinori is saying is completely valid, by the way… but, are we expecting this kid to fight his father? Is that a thing we’re doing?”
“Uh,” said Yoichi, “in our defense, we did think he was dead.”
“Maybe Eighth will get ‘im before Ninth has to deal with it,” suggested Banjo. “He’s got to have a better chance of that, now what with Fa Jin and all.” He paused. “But, you know what would give Ninth an even better chance, if he does have to fight his deadbeat dad-”
“He’s not a deadbeat,” interrupted Hikage.
“What?”
“Calling him a deadbeat would imply that he is neither supporting the Midoriyas financially nor regularly in contact with them. He is on both counts.”
“What?” squealed Bango.
“Did you miss his phone call with his father immediately following his return home after the USJ attack?”
“Oh,” said Yoichi, “no, I was very aware of my brother’s evil, evil voice. It’s just that these guys were too focused on scolding me to listen to anything I had to say. I still can’t believe he sent someone like that to attack his own son’s class.”
“Didn’t he, like, kill you?” asked En.
“No, my death was largely unrelated. You’ve got to remember, I was a chronically ill fugitive from the law with no money. Who told you that he killed me?”
Everyone looked at their immediate predecessor. Yoichi tracked the path back to Third, who had gone very stiff.
“What the heck, Third? You were there when I died. Why would you tell Hikage that?”
Third did not answer.
“Actually, what did he tell you, Hikage?
“Oh, it was very moving and heroic. It happened while you were saving a busload of metahuman orphans. You sacrificed yourself to let them get away from All for One. I even cried a little.”
“Is it weird that I’m now disappointed in myself for not dying like that?”
“Very,” said Nana.
“What were we talking about before this?” asked En.
“I have no idea,” said Banjo.
.
Izuku delayed going to class, nervous about everyone's reactions to his quirk. It wasn't that he thought they'd reject him, but more that he had no answers for the inevitable questions.
But he also didn't want to be late.
"Todoroki was so cool!" Hagakure exclaimed as he opened the classroom door. "He was all like, blam, bam, swish! And- and he checked whether or not I was there first, before attacking, which was super cool of him."
Todoroki's expression was halfway between 'statue' and 'help, I've been hit by a truck.' "Cool?"
"Very cool."
"You've grown since the first day, kero."
"Ah! Midoriya!"
All heads turned towards him. In the next second, he was hugged by several people, which was more friendly skin contact than he'd had since… ever, probably.
"Eep," he said.
"We were so worried about you," said Uraraka. "We made a group chat, after, but since you were unconscious…"
"Hm," said Monoma, "your quirk still is definitely a stockpile…"
"Monoma!" shouted Iida. "Did you join this hug just to copy quirks?"
"And what of it?"
"But speaking of quirks," said Jiro, "you can fly now? We kind of went along with it at the time, but that's kind of different from a sensory quirk."
"I know," said Izuku, "and I have no explanation."
"Maybe your quirk stockpiles danger," said Monoma, contemplatively. He rubbed his chin with one finger. "That could be why you can sense danger- you're stockpiling it. Then, when the danger gets over a certain threshold, you can release it as flight… why are you all looking at me like that?"
"Oh, nothing," drawled Kaminari. "Just that you're more thoughtful than you look, pretty boy."
"I don't want to hear that from you."
"Th-thank you, Monoma! I'll have to mention it when I go to quirk counseling next."
Which may or may not be this afternoon, depending on how Mr. Aizawa felt and- His head snapped to the door. "Mr. Aizawa's coming!"
They all rushed to their seats. The door creaked open.
"Oh my gosh, he's a mummy."
.
"Iida?"
"What is it, Midoriya?"
They were having a bit of a break during English while Present Mic cycled them through for short sessions with Hound Dog.
"I didn't have a chance to ask you earlier, but how's your brother?"
“He’s alright! It’s the first really major injury of his career, so he’s going to take it easy for the rest of the month, to make sure his engines heal properly. He’d prefer not to of course, but, ah, there is a silver lining.”
“That’s good,” said Izuku, encouragingly.
“I really shouldn’t be happy about it,” said Iida, rubbing the back of his neck, “but he’ll be able to come see me during the sports festival, and he probably would have been too busy if he were active.”
“I think it’s okay to be happy about good things, even if they happen because of bad things,” said Izuku. “It isn’t like we can go back and make the bad things not happen, after all…”
“That’s very true, Midoriya! What a mature way of thinking about things.”
Izuku didn’t know about that, but he was willing to take the compliment.
.
“Midoriya,” said Shouta, who was absolutely and unquestionably recovered enough to teach. Even if he had zoned out in the corner of the room in his sleeping bag all morning rather than trekking back to the teacher’s lounge… or teaching any of his other classes… shut up. “What are you doing at the window?”
“O-oh. Mr. Aizawa. I didn’t know you were awake?”
It was, maybe, a little unfair to single Midoriya out like that, since the entire class was standing by the window, and the way Uraraka, Sero, and Midoriya were closest to it, with Monoma a close fourth, was concerning, but Midoriya was the first one Shouta saw, and the one most likely to to cave and tell him what was going on.
“Midoriya.”
“R-right. Well, going out the door seems a little unpleasant today, so we thought we’d switch it up?”
What did that even mean?
“We were going to bring you with us, of course,” continued Midoriya.
What did that even mean?
“Out the window.”
“Um. Yes.”
“What kind of unpleasant are we talking about?”
“Battle trial unpleasant?”
Shouta groaned and hauled himself up, walking over to the door. He looked out the window and made note of all the students from other classes standing out there, circling like sharks. Great. Maybe they needed to have an assembly about respecting boundaries or whatever, especially if the people whose boundaries were being crossed were potentially traumatized.
Something to bring up at the next staff meeting he attended. Which… would probably not be soon.
Anyway.
He opened the door.
(“A mummy,” whispered someone.)
(First his kids, then these kids… he wasn’t that wrapped up.)
(Was he?)
“What are you all doing here?” he asked, voice rasping rather more than he wanted it to.
The students didn’t seem inclined to answer. Someone did mutter something about the sports festival, but it was far from the complete answer that Aizawa wanted.
“Right. Whatever. Scoping out the competition is one thing, but you are aware that class 1-A is recovering from a traumatic experience. And you’re blocking traffic. Clear off.”
The crowd slowly dispersed. Shouta sighed. He knew this would only be the first of many such incidents. He made a note to talk to Nemuri about whether or not she’d be willing to donate some of her class time to talk about public relations.
.
“You know,” said Nemuri, “if you actually rested, Recovery Girl would be able to heal you.”
“I know nothing of the sort,” said Shouta, glaring at his desk in the staff room. “I’m forgetting something.”
All Might walked in. “Er, young Aizawa,” he said. He paused for a painfully long, awkward moment. “Are you still meeting with young Midoriya today?”
“Crap.”
.
Did Izuku expect Mr. Aizawa to come to their meeting? No. The man had casts on all of his limbs. But, he hadn’t cancelled it either. So, better safe than sorry, right?
But it had been a while, now. Izuku could probably safely assume he wasn't coming after a half hour. He got up, packed his bags, and reached out for the door handle-
Only to freeze as Mr. Aizawa yanked it open and pulled Mr. Yagi into the classroom after him.
Izuku scurried back to his seat.
"Nothing physical today," croaked Mr. Aizawa. "We're going to figure out your quirk."
“O-okay,” said Izuku.
Aizawa collapsed into the seat behind the teacher's desk. “To be short, this quirk, One for All or whatever, is complete nonsense.”
“Uh,” said Mr. Yagi. “Sorry?”
“Sorry,” whispered Izuku.
“You should be. Not you, Midoriya. You’re fine.”
“Okay?”
“Right. So. You’ve got two quirks right now. Danger Sense and Float. Unless something else showed up over the weekend?”
“No, it’s, um, it is just those two right now.”
“And you’ll most likely get Smokescreen, Blackwhip, and that strength enhancement eventually. Plus two mystery quirks.”
“That is what I’ve been able to find out,” said Mr. Yagi.
“So, we have to figure out some way to get all those under a coherent umbrella that can account for the mystery quirks, and before the sports festival, so the evil immortal supervillain doesn’t notice that you have quirks just like a bunch of people he had personal beef with.”
Mr. Yagi cursed in English. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“Yeah, I wonder what else you haven’t thought about. Maybe this year I can get Nezu to take my suggestion about doing hero names before the sports festival seriously. You know we’ve had people stalk students before because for some godforsaken reason we use their real names? I need a drink.”
“Ah, water?”
“No.”
“Young Aizawa, you’re a teacher…”
“A career choice I question daily. Midoriya, do you have any thoughts about how to make your quirk make sense in a way that won’t get you killed or abducted by the HPSC?”
“I- Does that happen?” despite his conversation with Mr. Yagi over the weekend, he still had generally positive thoughts about the hero commission.
“I have no idea. Wouldn’t put it past them.”
“Well, um, I was talking to Monoma earlier, and he said something about stockpiling danger, and how it might let out the stockpile as the energy necessary to levitate- which, really, would be a fascinating quirk if it did work that way- but I thought it might also work for Smokescreen and the strength enhancement? I mean, general responses to danger are fight, flight, or hide, so the strength enhancement is fight, Float is flight, and Smokescreen would be hide…”
“That might work. What about Blackwhip.”
“Yeah, that one has kind of stumped me.”
“Blackwhip sure is a problem,” agreed Mr. Aizawa.
.
The ghosts started laughing. “You’re a problem, Banjo,” chortled Nana.
“Come on, guys, that isn’t funny!”
"It is! It's hilarious!"
"They were just talking about All for One tracking the kid down and killing him!"
The mood sobered quickly.
"Considering that he is Ninth's father," said Hikage, "I suspect it's far too late for that."
"Yeah," said Yoichi. "But, just to be safe, and in case there are other weirdos out there, new rule: no giving him new quirks in public. Not that we can do anything about when he eventually manifests the stockpile…"
"What if he's going to die?" asked Hikage, raising his hand.
"He already got your quirk, why do you care?"
"We'd like to hear it," said Banjo, somewhat forcefully.
"Well, if he looks like he's going to die, do whatever you can to stop that from happening, I guess. But chucking a quirk he doesn't know how to use isn't always going to be the beat answer."
"Wait," said Nana. "Hold up a second. A few days ago we were talking about the potential for multiple quirk brain damage, weren't we?"
"Oh, good catch," said Yoichi. "I guess I forgot to mention it, which means Nana is the only one I'd trust babysitting my nephew in the event a quirk rewound him to elementary school age-"
"That is a suspiciously specific scenario," said En.
"-and all the rest of you are fired. You didn't even question giving him more quirks? Really?"
Hikage raised his hand. "I assumed you had discovered that Ninth had a constitution capable of handling multiple quirks, similar to yourself and your brother."
"That is true. Okay, Hikage would be another exception, but he's disqualified from babysitting for other reasons."
"That's fair."
.
"So we need something that can do all that, and has tentacles," said Izuku, squeezing his bottom lip in thought.
"Yeah," said Mr. Aizawa. "Honestly, even really dumb ideas would be welcome right now."
"Why are you looking at me?" asked Mr. Yagi.
"You know why."
There was only one creature Izuku could think of that could do all the things Izuku one day might be able to while maintaining room for the two mystery quirks. "Cthulhu."
Mr. Yagi looked mildly scandalized at the suggestion.
"Nah, it'd have to be something like eldritch. Cthulhu's trademarked in Japan, and that can give you aboveground types trouble."
"What is it a trademark for?" asked Mr. Yagi.
"Ask Midnight. I don't want to talk about it."
"Ah," said Mr. Yagi.
"The problem with that is that you currently have no justification to call it that. Now if you already had Smokescreen…"
The adults looked at him.
"... I don't think it's going to just show up like that," said Izuku.
.
"Why not?" asked Banjo, staring at En. "They practically asked you for it."
"Well, first off, I live for drama, so jot that down."
"Huh? What about me?" asked Yoichi.
"Nothing, it was just an idiom. Second…"
.
"...Right," said Aizawa. “For now, then, we’ll have to give it a temporary name, because it’s starting to get to the point in time where it’ll actually be illegal for you to not register it.” He shuffled his casts. “Yagi, start filling out those forms with what he can do currently. Midoriya, make sure you check him when he’s done. For now, we’ve got to come up with a name.”
“Um,” said Izuku. “Float’s the only one that’s really visible, so I could just call it Float?”
“Vetoed. You aren’t picking a name that the immortal supervillain knows.”
“He did seem to only refer to people by quirks unless he really hated them,” said Mr. Yagi. “Except his brother, who he always called ‘my foolish brother.’”
“Focus on the paperwork.”
“And he called himself by his quirk name as well,” mused Izuku. “Do you think it was a side effect? Quirks have document impact on people’s personalities-”
“Focus.”
“R-right. Um. Feather Fall? No, that’s part of a game. Flight Reflex?”
“Good enough for now,” said Aizawa. “Flight Reflex it is.”
81 notes · View notes
night-fallz · 3 years
Text
XY’s Muse
Based on this prompt
Like I have stated before, this is my first fanfic. Please let me know what you think of it. Any kind of criticism will be welcome.
uploaded on 01/23/21
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ao3 // Wattpad
previous II next
Chapter 2
XY was staring at the ceiling. A week has already passed. And he still couldn't stop thinking about the day he spent with Marinette. It was the most fun he'd had in a while.
Before the whole Silencer fiasco, his father would not stop pressuring him to produce a new song. So when they met up for dinner and his dad came up with the idea of stealing someone else's music, he couldn’t bring himself to decline.
XY knew it was wrong.
But all he wanted was the chance to finally impress his dad. Bob Roth might not have the best attitude towards him, but he was all XY had left.
Xy already lost his mom. He would not lose his dad too.
At least, that's what he believed. He should've known that his father was just using him for money. According to his dad, money was the most valuable thing in life.
XY scoffed. He should've known better. He should've known that all his father thought of hi-
He felt a buzz in his pocket and his face immediately brightened. Marinette just texted him!
Marinette: what's up?
Marinette: have u been inspired yet?
Marinette gave XY the idea to just sit back and let inspiration hit him. It was a common idea but it was one that most people tend to forget in the long run.
XY: nothing much
XY: and nope.
XY: my dad has been pressuring me to come up with something tho
Marinette: ignore him
Marinette: he's just mad cause he can't get any ladies
The three dots popped up on his screen.
Marinette: OH CRAP I'M LATE
Marinette: TTYL.
XY rolled his eyes and smiled.
They've been texting back and forth these past few days. He's learned so many things about her and vice versa.
It was nice. It's been a while since XY has had a friend.
Maybe she'll be even more, XY couldn’t help but think as he ran a hand through his hair.
"Huh," XY said out loud. "Even more"
And just like that, inspiration for his next song hit him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Marinette was thinking of a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed musician when she heard her phone ring.
"Tikki!" she screamed, staring at her phone as if it was Hawkmoth himself.. "He's calling me. XY is calling me."
Tikki sighed and floated next to Marinette, "Maybe you should answer it. It would be pretty rude to keep him waiting."
"Right, right," Marinette answered his call and hoped her voice didn’t sound as squeaky as she thought it did.. "Hey."
"Hey."
There was a moment of awkward silence.
Marinette didn’t know what to do. She glanced at the small goddess.
Tikki rolled her eyes at their awkwardness as she gestured to the phone. Ask him why he called you, she mouthed to Marinette.
Marinette nodded. That was a smart idea. "So," Marinette cleared her throat. "Why did you call me?"
"Right, Uhm." Marinette heard him shuffling around his room. "You know how you've been asking me if I was inspired and stuff?"
Marinette's eyes grew wide and a huge smile took over her face as she started to nod before remembering that he couldn't see her. "Yep." she eagerly said, "Did you find any?"
"Yes!" Marinette could hear the excitement in his voice. "I was actually wondering if you wanted to design the outfits for my music video."
Marinette's eyes looked shocked. "Yes!" she jumped around in excitement before remembering she was still in a call with XY. "Why me though?"
XY’s voice sounded confused.. "What do you mean, why you? You're literally perfect for it. You're talented. Plus, everyone loves your designs."
Marinette’s cheeks resembled a tomato. She has never been more thankful for the fact that he couldn't see her right now.
"Thank you." Marinette managed to mumble. "That really means a lot."
"You're welcome." XY said. Marinette had a feeling he was smiling though. "I have to go and have my dad listen to the demo. But I'll text you later, okay?"
"Yep," Marinette whispered and gave Tikki a cookie. "Good luck. I know that whatever song you came up with is gonna sound good. No matter what he'll say."
Marinette heard a faint "Thanks" from the phone before the call ended.
Marinette screamed into her pillow and looked up and saw Tikki look at her with amusement. “I think I like him.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"So, what do you think?" XY asked as his father finished listening to his song. "Is it bad? Do you think people will like it?"
Bob Roth grinned at his son. "This is a Masterpiece. Where did you find this?" He gestured to the video of XY singing the song, "Who did you steal this from?"
XY's proud smile immediately turned into a scowl. "What do you mean, who did I steal this from?" He yelled at his dad, his blue eyes glaring at him as he grabbed the demo from the table. "I made it. I came up with it myself." XY felt his eyes tearing up. "Something you would actually know if you thought of me as something more than a money-making machine."
How could he? XY thought as he climbed up the stairs. Is it that hard to believe that I could come up with something good?
XY slammed his door shut. "All I wanted was to prove to him that I wasn't a talentless son." XY put his hands on his face. "I just wanted to make him proud."
XY felt a buzz in his pocket and immediately knew that it was Marinette. After all, she’s the only one that ever texts him.
Marinette: how did it go?
Marinette: did he like it?
XY wiped away the tears that were starting to come out of his eyes. He couldn't help but smile. Marinette certainly had an effect on him.
XY: he called it a masterpiece
Marinette: yes! I knew he would like it.
XY: yeah
XY: but then he asked me who i stole it from
Marinette: THAT JERK
Marinette: WTF
Marinette: THAT's SO MESSED UP
Marinette: HOW COULD HE-
Marinette: DO YOU WANT ME TO BEAT HIM UP FOR YOU????
XY laughed at her text messages. He only started to text her and he already felt better.
XY: no, it's fine
XY: i actually yelled at him
Marinette: ...
Marinette: do you feel better?
XY: actually, yep.
XY: he's a really sucky father
Marinette: for some reason, a lot of the blondes i know have a toxic parent
Marinette: it's kinda sad
XY: maybe it's a paris thing
They texted back and forth, XY laughing at the memes Marinette sent.
XY: You're definitely a daughter of Athena
Marinette: ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )
Marinette: is that a percy jackson reference i see
XY: yep
XY: have u read the books?
Marinette: duh
Marinette: you haven't lived til you've read the books
Marinette: sadly, the movies sucked tho
XY: I KNOW
XY: ANNABETH WASN'T EVEN BLONDE
Marinette: EXACTLY!!
Marinette: SJSJSJSJSJSJ
 Marinette: THE MOVIES SCARED ME FOR LIFE
XY: oh yeah
XY: before i forget
XY: what's ur insta?
Marinette: which one
XY scrunched his eyebrows up in confusion.
XY: What do you mean by which one?
Marinette: i have two
Marinette: one as my personal one and the other one for commissions and stuff
XY: ohhh
XY: smart
Marinette: i know ;)
Marinette: my personal one is @Mdupaincheng and the one for my commissions one if @MDCdesigns
XY switched his apps and searched up Marinette's personal instagram. He clicked on the first result that came up.
The profile picture was Marinette in a blue, silky dress that went just above her ankle. There was a slit on her left leg that showed her knee. It was nighttime and Marinette was practically glowing under the city lights. She was staring at something on her right side, with one hand running through her silky black hair which was down for once.
She looked hot.
After XY stopped admiring her profile picture, he finally noticed her follower count.
She had 200,000 followers. 200,000.
It wasn't as high as XY's follower count, that was still quite a lot.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
XY: i didn't know u were insta famous
Marinette: wdym?  
Marinette: which acc
XY: ur personal one
XY: u have over 200k followers
Marinette thought that she read his text wrong. There's no way that Marinette had that many followers. 200,000? There was no way.
Marinette: ur lying
XY: I'm not.
XY: check ur acc
It's been a while since Marinette has logged onto her personal account. The hate she got the last time she's been signed in was too much for her and when Alya told her to log out and just focus on her other account, @MDCdesigns, she couldn't bring herself to argue against her.
Marinette hasn't even thought of that account since that day. So when she logged in and saw that XY wasn't lying, she accidentally dropped her phone in shock.
Tikki looked at Marinette with a questioning look.  
Marinette ignored her kwami and texted the blue-eyes boy back.
Marinette: HOLY SHIT
Marinette: I HAVE 200k FOLLOWERS
Marinette: HOW TF DID THAT HAPPEN
XY: when was the last time you checked ur acc
Marinette: about 3 months ago
Marinette: the media thought i was adrien's gf and his fangirls came at me
Marinette: i got a ton of hate and a friend of mine told me to log out and just focus on my @MDCdesigns acc
Marinette: so i did
Marinette: i haven't thought abt that acc since then
XY: the fangirls were probably just jealous
XY: it's been months so they probably calmed down
XY: I'm looking through the comments rn and so far the latest hate comment you've got was about 2 weeks ago
XY: you've got a bit of a fanbase yk
Marinette: WHAT DO I DO
Marinette: DO I JUST CONTINUE NOT TO POST OR SHOULD I POST SOMETHING ON MY STORY ABT HOW THANKFUL I AM FOR 200k
Marinette: HOW COME NONE OF MY FRIENDS TOLD ME ABT THIS
XY: don't post anything rn
XY: post a picture of yourself and the caption it something that shows ur thankful for the number of followers u received
XY: OH
XY: a few hours before u post the picture, make sure u post on ur story abt how ur back from ur break on social media
XY: that way ppl will understand why u haven't been active
XY: it'll also have ppl prepared for ur post and they'll be waiting for u to post it
XY: that'll give u more engagement and stuff
Marinette: thank u
Marinette: that was really helpful
Marinette: when should i post something?
Marinette: AND I STILL DONT KNOW WHY MY FRIENDS DIDNT SAY ANYTHING ABT THIS
XY: u told ur friend that u were taking a break from social media right?
Marinette: yes
XY: then they probably weren't expecting u to post anything so they weren't checking ur insta
XY: u should post something on the weekend
XY: that way ppl wouldn't bother u during school this week
XY: if u want i can help u come up with ideas tomorrow?
Marinette: yes, please!
Marinette: do u wanna come over
Marinette: we can plan it in my room so that ppl won't overhear us
XY: guess I'll see u tomorrow then
XY: just text me the time ur available and I'll be there
Marinette: make sure to wear a disguise tho!
Marinette: we got lucky last time and no tabloids caught us
XY: ur right
XY: we must've been really lucky if no one got a pic of us
XY: but okay
XY: I'll wear my best disguise
XY: goodnight, princess
Marinette blinked a few times, making sure she read the text correctly.
Princess.
Marinette: goodnight ♥
previous II next
This is the first chapter of the story. Please let me know what you think
1,967 words
Tag list:
@iglowinggemma28 @mica-aa @lady-bee-fechin @maskedpainter @snnoww26 @ravenr22 @spiritofchaoticdreams @ravennm84 @heaven428 @finn-cipher @peterxwade24 @aliceofice22 @queenamongthorns @captainmac6
289 notes · View notes
Text
you weren’t supposed to hear that (F! reader)
A collection of instances where your roommate hears you moaning their name whilst your fingers are between your legs. Or your neighbor. Or maybe you walk in on them saying your name. Take your pick 😈
warnings: NSFW, manga spoilers (in terms of what the boys do post timeskip), degradation (i think?)
a/n: i'm so nervous about this one LOL i’m super into Sakusa but I don’t know much about him tbh. he’s some good eye candy and that’s all i got. and i like the idea that he’d be a bit softer with you. anyways, hope you enjoy ✨J
taglist: @apollochjld @kurosarium 
Other parts: Kuroo | Ushijima
Sakusa Kiyoomi 
You weren’t really sure what you were expecting when you filled out the application to be Sakusa’s roommate. The application was straightforward, maybe a bit excessive, particularly in the cleaning department, but nothing you couldn’t handle. And you would’ve done almost anything to be accepted given the price was a steal and the owner of the apartment claimed they would be away frequently. So, agreeing to a few ridiculous housekeeping requests seemed reasonable to you.
All Sakusa wanted was someone to look after his apartment while he was gone, keep it tidy and clean it thoroughly before he returns. You also had to send pictures of the state of your current apartment to ‘prove’ your cleanliness. Excessive, but retrospectively—extremely worth it.
Though what you hadn’t been expecting was for the owner of the apartment to be Sakusa Kiyoomi, an outside hitter for the MSBY Black Jackals. Nor had you expected him to actually accept your application.
In all honesty, Sakusa had been a little desperate. Nobody who’d applied came even close to his expectations, and when he’d read you clean your bathroom at least once a week, it was like a breath of fresh air. And when he met you, you were pleasant and described that you mainly like to keep to yourself which sounded perfect to him. But what really convinced him was that you showed up wearing a mask. He wasn’t sure if you could tell how surprised he was, but the second he saw it, he almost accepted you on the spot.
That was over a year ago now and you and Sakusa have been living in a comfortable rhythm. When he’s home, you gladly help him clean when you have the time, and sometimes when he gets home from practice you already have dinner cooking which he can’t deny he’s come to enjoy. When he’s away, he feels safe that his home isn’t going into complete disarray or collecting dust because you’re there. And when he comes home, he loves that the apartment is nearly spotless.
By now, he almost considers your germs his own. He doesn’t mind sitting near you eating dinner, or next to each other on the couch. In fact, he finds he rather enjoys your presence. But lately, the two of you have been sitting closer on the couch and table, and when he’s gone, he actually misses you, which he will never admit. Coming home to a clean apartment and even you just popping your head into the hallway to greet him before retreating to your room is enough for him.
His growing problem is that he isn’t sure if it’s enough anymore. And it became terribly clear to him when you came to one of his games for the first time.
After the game you waited for him outside the locker room, feeling a little out of place even though Sakusa gave you a VIP pass to be allowed back here. When he emerges, he finds you swarmed by his teammates, politely indulging them and telling them you’re just waiting for someone. It makes his skin prickle in the same way it does when people touch him unprompted. Even worse, Atsumu is far too close to you for his comfort.
You seem fine though, brightly greeting him when he approaches, much to the shock of his teammates.
“What’s a pretty girl doin’ knowing our ‘Omi, hey?” Atsumu drawls, sending a sly smile your way as Sakusa frowns at the nickname.
Before you can open your mouth, amused by the nickname you’ve never heard before, Sakusa interjects, “She’s my roommate.” Rendering the rest of them speechless (which is quite the feat), he takes you gently by the arm so the two of you can leave. Two things shock them: that Sakusa has a roommate and that he touched you.
“They aren’t so bad,” you grin up at him as he scowls, the two of you heading down the hallway towards the exit.
“You don’t have to spend hours on end with them.”
You shrug, knowing Sakusa is a man of unique circumstances when it comes to other people. A thought that makes you stop in your tracks, your hand shooting out to grip his arm to stop him, surprising him enough that he doesn’t recoil from your touch. “We should go this way,” you say, pointing down a different hallway.
He just looks at you, then down at your hand still wrapped around his forearm which you quickly snatch away. “Why? This way will be closer to the car.”
“I came by this way earlier and there was a group of your fans waiting for you,” you grimace. “I’d guess they’re probably still there.”
He frowns, grumbling to himself, but starting towards the hallway you pointed out. He’d very much like to avoid that situation if possible. The two of you make it out unscathed and un-swarmed by his avid fans, and on the way out to the car he can’t help thinking how much he appreciates how considerate you are. Anyone else would have told him he’s being ridiculous and to meet his fans. Not you, however. You always take his feelings into account.
That was weeks ago now. And none of his teammates have let it go since.
For you, when you first moved in, you swore to yourself you’d never fall for him. Not even after you accidentally walked in on him working out in his home gym, his lean and muscular arms out on display, a thin sheen of sweat dampening his dark curls—you nearly combusted. You forced yourself to put it out of your mind, because how could you fall for him? His annoyingly attractive face on billboards haunts you everywhere you go, and he was a stand-offish and a little neurotic for months. But as time as passed, he grew on you.
You now find his need for cleanliness endearing. Particularly now that he’s seemingly accepted you into his ‘bubble’. You’ll never forget the moment he touched you for the first time of his own accord. It was simple, nothing to think anything of really, but for him it was a big deal. It was just a brief touch on the shoulder while you were washing dishes thanking you for dinner. Afterwards, you took note of every time he touched you. One that stands out the most was when he wanted to escape his teammates at the very first game of his you attended. It was firmer, more of a silent plea from him that stunned you.
Really, you could be perfectly happy living like this. Except that your thoughts wander to him far too often now. Especially when he’s gone. It feels weird not having him around, scolding you for missing one spot on the counter, or sitting quietly next to you on the couch—you think about him a lot. His silent presence is strangely comforting, and it doesn’t help you watch his games while he’s away.
He is beautiful to watch. To the point you can’t even believe you live with him. Your efforts to keep your feelings in check were futile. You get so riled up that recently you’ve begun tiding yourself over to the thought of him. At first, you felt pretty ridiculous, especially since it’s hard to imagine him wanting to be…dirty like that, but eventually you just let your imagination run wild. You let yourself believe that with you, he’d be different.
It’s become a habit now while he’s gone. You know it’s awful. Yet you can’t stop yourself. Not when you haven’t been with someone since moving in with Sakusa. At first it was because you didn’t want to piss him off by bringing some stranger into the apartment. But now, you don’t even think you could. Not when you know you’ll only think about him the entire time.
He left only yesterday for his away game, but you’re already missing him. Already foolishly letting your thoughts wander into darker territory that you keep locked up tight when he’s around. His game is tomorrow, so you take the opportunity while you’re almost one-hundred percent certain he won’t come home early. On several occasions he’s come back a day early, but never before a game. Always after.
Your new favorite spot is the shower. Mostly because you can imagine him maybe letting loose a bit while the two of you are actively being cleaned in the process. Once you’ve stripped and the warm water is cascading down your back, it’s easy to imagine him.
You’ve pictured him so many times before that sometimes it really does feel like he’s there. That it’s his hands trailing down your sides, resting your hips, his mouth gently kissing along your neck as his hands move lower. The thought of him towering over you, his curly hair damp from the water, those dark eyes boring into you has you trembling in anticipation.
You’re already soaking when you run a finger between your folds, gripping the tiles when it reaches your clit, wondering what Sakusa’s fingers would feel like instead. Dipping your head, you let out a small, “Kiyoomi,” as you picture him whispering filthy things in your ear.
When Sakusa enters the apartment, he wrinkles his nose under his mask at the slight mess. Though, he supposes he can’t blame you. He wasn’t supposed to be home for another three days. But the other team cancelled unexpectedly, unable to get to the destination due to terrible weather. He hears the shower running in the other room, so he pulls off his mask and gets down to work. He can talk to you about it later.
Though he can’t help imagining you in the shower. Your body freshly clean, water running down your back, between your breasts, and along your legs. His mind gets so clouded by the image that he doesn’t realize he’s been scrubbing the same spot on the counter for a few minutes now. He’s jolted back to reality when he hears a sharp, “Ah!” emit from the bathroom.
He drops his cleaning supplies and quickly strides towards the bathroom thinking you’ve fallen in the shower. The door is slightly open, steam trickling into the hallway, and before he can knock and ask if you’re alright he hears your voice again.
“Oh—Kiyoomi...”
His hand stops mid-air, eyes widening with the realization of what you’ve just said. He pauses for a moment, debating what he should do. He can’t deny he thinks about you more often than he should, and more frequently as of late. And to him, the shower seems like the perfect place. So, he pushes the door open quietly, unzipping his jacket and saying into the silence, “Did you say my name?”
You almost take a tumble into the tub in surprise at hearing his actual voice in the bathroom with you. Close enough to lead you to believe he is in the bathroom. Yanking your fingers out of you, you push back the curtain, intent on yelling at him for intruding on you and scaring the shit out of you, though your voice dies in your throat.
Standing in the middle of the bathroom is Sakusa Kiyoomi, in all his infuriatingly delicious glory, pulling off his shirt and moving to rid himself of his track pants as well. He’s looking at you, deadpan, eyes moving down your body but stopping where the shower curtain is still covering you.
After a moment, you collect your senses, managing to choke out, “Wh—what are you doing?” Just your luck that he came home early at this exact moment and that he heard you. You’d curl up into a ball of embarrassment right now if you weren’t so shocked by his demeanor.  
Now that he’s completely unclothed you struggle to keep your eyes above his chest, gripping the curtain harder when he steps forward and says casually, “It was a long flight, I want to take a shower.”
You gape at him. “Right now?!”
He just takes a hold of the curtain, pulling it open slightly so he can step in next to you, and you’re so stunned you make no motion to stop him. And now you’re finding him towering over you in the small space of the shower, so close you can hardly breathe. All the air gets punched out of your lungs when his large hand rests on your hip, turning you so your back is facing him so he can lean down at tease in your ear, “You asked me to come in here, after all.”
All of the heat leaves your body, pooling directly between your legs at his tone. He wastes no time, lathering his hands up with soap and running them along your sides before reaching forward to cup your breasts in his hands, thumbs roaming aimlessly along your nipples, the soap foaming between his fingers.
“Were you thinking about me in the shower?” He asks, his tone dropping into something dark and dangerous. “Such a filthy girl.” He tugs at your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger making your knees tremble and the growing need between your legs even worse.
“Sa—Sakusa,” you moan, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, getting the full view of his hungry eyes boring into you.
He frowns, pinching your nipples slightly harder, reprimanding, “That isn’t what you called me earlier.”
You writhe in his embrace, gripping his arms, forcing yourself to keep eye contact with him as you correct yourself. “Kiyoomi.” He smirks at you, relenting on your nipples as reward, though continuing his soft ministrations.
You can’t help your ass arching backwards, coming into contact with his hardening member, giving him a bit of his own medicine as you grind against him. He hisses through his teeth, admonishing, “What a needy slut.”
“Fuck,” you mewl, pressing against him even harder. You can’t explain what his voice saying those things is doing to you—all you know is you need him to fucking touch you already. “Please, Kiyoomi,” you beg, lifting your arms up and around his neck behind you, your fingers twining into his wet hair. “Make a fucking mess of me.”
He groans deep in his throat, rutting up against your behind and wrapping one strong arm around your middle while the other trails towards the apex of your thighs. “Is that what you want? To be my dirty little slut?” Your fingers grip his hair even tighter, nodding embarrassingly quickly, standing up on your tiptoes to get his hand any closer to where you desperately need him.
Once his fingers reach your core, sliding up through the slick gathered between your legs and towards your clit; your knees nearly give out from under you. If it wasn’t for his arm around you keeping you up, you would have sunk to the floor at the sheer pleasure that sweeps through your body. His fingers are infinitely better than yours and having his solid frame and prominent hard-on pressing behind you almost sends you through the roof.
“Is this what you wanted?” He asks quietly against the skin of your neck, his hips grinding up against your ass, which you gladly return with pressure of your own.
“Yes—yes,” you say, gasping when sinks a finger knuckle deep into your heat, quickly adding another and praising you for how well you’re taking it. He watches the space where his fingers are disappearing into you with a sinful expression, enjoying intensely how you’re practically shoving yourself onto his fingers.
“What a good girl,” he whispers, setting your skin on fire, wanting nothing more than to keep being exactly that for him. He smiles devilishly, in a way you would have never imagined he could in your wildest dreams. An almost savage glint in his eyes as he presses harshly on your clit, eliciting a choked sob out of you, and making you dig your nails into the arm wrapped around you.
“Please—,” you say, head lolling on his shoulder allowing him to finally kiss you fully. Surprising you as his tongue slides into your mouth, his fingers relentless, his free arm now helping you drive his fingers even deeper. Voice coming out in a pathetic whine that makes his cock twitch, you plead, “God—Kiyoomi, please!”
“Use your words.”
Thoughts far too hazy to be any sort of embarrassed you hold his dark gaze. “Fuck me.”
Suddenly, his fingers are out of you and he’s bending you over, the head of his cock pressing into your dripping entrance before he sheathes himself completely in you, a hiss escaping him. His head drops to rest his forehead on your shoulder, droplets from his wet hair sliding down your chest as he composes himself from how fucking amazing you feel around him.
“Fuck,” he moans, the closest he’s come to breaking his resolve from just fucking you within an inch of your life. “So tight for such a needy slut,” he grits out, hands resting on your hips as he pulls out only to thrust into you again. His fingers dig into your hips to slam your ass into his, increasing his pace to the point you can barely see straight. Your own fingers scrabble for any sort of purchase on the tiles in front of you, desperately attempting to ground yourself against his brutal pace.
“You feel so fucking good,” you praise, earning you his hand reaching down to lift your leg onto the edge of the tub allowing him to sink even deeper into you.
The lewd sound of skin slapping together, the two of you panting and murmuring nonsense to each other, and the shower continuing to run fills the space as he continues to pound ruthlessly into you is all you’ve ever dreamed about. As he litters kisses and soft bites along your spine, the pressure in your stomach builds and builds, and before it bursts you gasp, “Oh my god—Kiyoomi.”
He notices your body starting to tense up, your back arching and fingers twitching as your orgasm comes hurtling towards you. Taking the opportunity, he pulls your body up, your back flush against his chest, hips never faltering and fingers finding your clit to bring you even closer to release.
“Cum for me,” he orders, voice so cold you feel a little embarrassed by how much it turns you on. But you know that’s just how he sounds sometimes and he’s probably playing it up a bit for you. “Cum on my cock like the good little slut you are.”
That sends you tumbling over the edge, your entire body convulsing as white-hot pleasure courses through your veins, prolonged by him continuing to plunge into you. The sensation is so overwhelming you start writhing in his grip, attempting to ride it out while he holds you firmly against him restricting your movement.
He can’t hold it back much longer, your walls clamping down around him nearly made him cum on the spot, but he holds you through your orgasm, forcing you to endure the full brunt of it while he continues fucking you. Though your body relaxing against his, your fingers winding into his hair, and your voice asking him so politely to cum for you makes him lose it. He grips your hips tightly, jackhammering into you chasing his release. Eventually his hips still, thighs shuddering as he concentrates on keeping the both of you standing while he cums.
The two of you stand there in silence, water still running, as his forehead rests on your back, both of your chests heaving at the exertion you just expended. Your heart is thundering against your chest, unsure what to say and hoping he’ll say something first. He groans, relinquishing your hips from his death grip and pulling his softening cock out of you.
You really shouldn’t have been surprised by what he says first.
“We should rinse off,” he suggests, despite the fact he’s still leaning on your back, hands now resting harmlessly on your hips.
“Okay,” you murmur, reaching for the soap and moving out of his grasp. He just stands there watching you, the water streaming onto his back, a completely passive expression on his face. If it was anyone else, they might have interpreted it as boredom or that he’s uninterested but to you—he just looks content.
You motion for him to turn around and start lathering the soap along his back, relishing the free chance to roam your hands all over his incredibly built body. Peering around his shoulder, you find him with his eyes closed, the smallest smile curving his lips as he enjoys your hands massaging his back. You smile to yourself, moving on to find his shampoo and gently scrubbing it into his hair, tucking the small pleased groan he makes into the back of your brain to remember later.
After a few quiet moments he says, “The apartment’s a mess.”
That makes you frown, a sour expression adorning your face. Poking his side, you reply, “Well, you weren’t supposed to be home for another three days!” He turns around, washing the soap off his back and out of his hair while you take no time to start exploring the expanse of his chest with your soapy fingers. When he opens his eyes, looking down at you, you pout. “Can’t we leave it for tomorrow?”
As much as he dislikes that, he can’t help but agree, finding the prospect of curling up in bed with you much more enticing.
Once he’s finished, he returns the favor washing your body, and the both of you step out of the shower to dry off. You pull on the pajama’s you’d left in here for after your shower that you thought you’d be taking alone while he simply wraps the towel around his waist, making it almost impossible not to stare at him as he waits for you.
You’re surprised when he leads you to his bedroom, changing into pajama’s of his own as you slide under the covers. They smell like detergent and the faint scent of Sakusa’s body wash, wrapping around you pleasantly—you take an indulgent breath, letting the scent soak into your senses. It gets even better when he joins you, hand resting on your bare arm, fingers drawing small circles against your skin. He gives you a soft kiss to the forehead, enjoying your freshly showered body against his beneath the sheets and your fingers in his hair.
“You know I honestly didn’t think you knew how to kiss,” you joke, tapping his chin, “With the mask and all.”
He peers down at you, the subtlest glint in his eyes as he replies, “Have I changed your mind?”
Your resulting cheeky smile makes his pants feel a little tight. “I think you might need to show me again.”
578 notes · View notes
bonjour-rainycity · 3 years
Text
Late in the Night | Part Four
Previous part
Prompt: Friends have a bet how long it will take the ship to get together (Content Challenge Day 7)
Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 1602
Warnings: None
Challenge participants: @game-ofthe-company @grunid @themerriweathermage @errruvande @the-reformed-ringwraith @awkwardkindatries
^^ Hey! If I haven't commented on your post(s) yet, it just means I haven't gotten the chance to read them. School has been ramping up, but as I have free moments, I'll be going back and looking at all your challenge posts <3
A/n: You guys...IT'S THE LAST PROMPT OF THE CONTENT CHALLENGE! What?! Thank you so much to everyone who participated and interacted with our posts. I had such a blast creating this past week and getting to know each and every one of you. I think it would be fun to do something like this again in the future, so let me know if you would like to be involved in planning/get updates! 
As always, I encourage you to check out the accounts tagged above and our masterlists! You can find the challenge masterlist here and my personal masterlist here. Okay, enjoy :)
Aragorn waits, keeping an eye on the trees.
The minute his friends from the eastern inn arrive, they will leave town.
He had a pleasant night — private room, hot bath, well-prepared meals — but is ready to get back on their journey. For all he knows, the brief rest he allowed them could have already cost them vital time.
That thought causes him to pace.
“Calm yourself, dear friend, they will be along shortly,” Gandalf councils.
Aragorn tries to heed the wise wizard’s advice. Sure enough, he soon hears the light sounds of feet crushing grass and twigs, and knows they are close.
The four of them break into sight at roughly the same time, and Aragorn notices two things:
One, Legolas and Y/n refuse to look at each other.
Two, Gimli wears a grin bright enough to rival the sun.
Aragorn knows he must speak with the dwarf as soon as possible.
Something has happened.
Merry, who doesn’t get enough credit for his observation skills, notices the oddities too, and elbows Pippin in the side. Their eyes grow wide, and it takes everything in them not to shout guesses as to what this means.
It is a good while before Aragorn, Pippin, Merry, and Gimli have a chance to convene and discuss the new development. All four of them, though of course dedicated to the task at hand, desperately want a resolution to their ongoing bet.
It had started innocently enough.
Merry made an off-hand comment about how well Legolas and Y/n seem to get along. Gimli noticed the lass was a clumsier fighter when Legolas was watching. Aragorn realized his friend seemed nervous around the human woman. Pippin saw how each of them smiled brighter when the other was near.
Somehow or other, the four of them had put together their observations, and the rest is history.
The bet was born.
Each of them had put down fifteen coins and a deadline, losing the coins if Legolas and Y/n did not become a couple by the deadline, and winning coins if they did. Knowing his friend’s shy nature well, Aragorn had given the two the lengthiest allowance — six months. Pippin and Merry recognized the bold nature of humans, and guessed it would only take four months for Y/n to speak her mind and Legolas to reciprocate. Gimli, on the other hand, thought the two were already head-over-heels for each other and wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about it, and had given them only a month and a half.
Each participant, knowing his deadline was drawing nearer, had taken steps to push the two in the right direction.
The hobbit friends moved Legolas’ and Y/n’s bedrolls closer when they weren’t looking.
Aragorn put them on watch together. A lot. To the point where he actually felt bad about the bags under Y/n’s eyes.
But Gimli, perhaps, had been the boldest of them all, and proudly tells his friends so the moment they are alone much later that evening.
“Quickly, they are suspicious why it took four of us to gather firewood and herbs,” Aragorn mutters, darting a quick glance in the direction of camp.
“Yes, just get on with it,” Pippin squeaks, then throws a hand over his mouth, knowing he might alert Legolas with his volume.
“Alright, listen up lads.” Gimli grins and proudly tells his tale. “Boromir and I got to the inn first, as planned, and the innkeeper asked how many were in our party. I said two, and the innkeeper made a comment how it was good we didn’t have more folk waiting outside, as his inn was almost full. Well, that got me thinkin’, so I inquired how many more rooms were available. The innkeeper said two, not including the ones Boromir and I purchased. So I whipped out my velvet pouch and paid for another room, fibbin’ a bit and saying I might have a lady friend visiting and wasn’t sure if she would want to sleep in my room or not after our activities.” He wiggles his eyebrows in response to the stunned looks of his friend.
Aragorn shakes his head slowly, a bemused smile setting in his lips. “So you paid for an extra room just to force Legolas and Y/n into sharing?”
“Right you are,” Gimli grins, placing his fists on his hips. “It wasna even that expensive — I’ll make it back three times over, now that I’ve won this thing.”
“Ah, ah, ah, hold on,” Merry holds up a hand, halting Gimli’s gloat. “You can’t prove they did or said anything to start a courtship, so you haven’t won!”
“They won’t even look at each other and the elf’s as red as a strawberry, of course something happened,” Gimli practically shouts.
Aragorn, reliably a voice of reason, intervenes. “We shall have to inquire then, but be smart about it. We do not want to jeopardize their potential courtship with our game.”
The companions agree, then quickly turn to the forest, gathering firewood and herbs to supplement Sam’s soup and their cover story.
{***}
Back at camp, Legolas sits on a low tree branch, keeping watch over all his friends.
But mostly Y/n.
He cannot pull his eyes from her face. She sits on a rock, staring into the fire, absently cleaning the mud from her boots. Without permission, his mind goes back to the way he held her this morning, tucked against his chest, her leg wrapped around his. It was wildly improper, and he should be ashamed of himself.
But he doesn’t feel ashamed. Because the way they woke up this morning didn’t feel improper, it felt natural. With all his heart, Legolas wants to wake up like that every morning — his favorite person kept safely against his side. He wants to guard her and give her a wonderful life and bring her home and have his people adore her, too.
Legolas’ resolve hardens, because he knows he can no longer keep this to himself. Y/n has a right to know how he feels, because it affects her too.
He pushes himself from the branch, landing on the ground in silence. With four long strides, he stops beside her, reaching down a hand. “Will you talk with me?”
She looks up at him, nerves like she’s never felt before erupting within her. But she gathers her courage, forces what she hopes is a smile, and takes Legolas’ hand.
She wonders what he’ll say.
All day, she had been lost in embarrassment. Somehow in the night, she’d thrown her leg over his and practically attached herself to his chest — who does that?! And he’d said nothing when they woke up, only got up and went about his routine like normal.
So obviously, he doesn’t feel anything for her.
And that’s what this conversation has to be about.
Briefly, though, she allows herself to remember what it felt like to be in his embrace, and knows that she will cherish that feeling forever.
The warmth of his hand in hers helps her hold on to that memory and, to her surprise, when they reach a secluded spot, he does not let go. No, he takes her other hand in his, clutching both tightly.
Legolas nearly shakes with nerves, and he wonders if she can tell? Does she know how he feels like he might be sick? Oh, he has never felt anxiety like this before, and desperately wishes for it to be gone.
So he wastes no time in putting himself out of his misery.
“I want to be with you.”
Y/n blinks. Surely she can’t have heard him correctly? “What?”
Legolas sighs — her reaction gives him no indication how she feels either way. He bolsters his courage, and tries again. “I feel affection for each member of this Fellowship. But whereas I love the others as if they were my kin, I am unable to deny that how I love you is different. Elves live long lives and thus take matters of the heart very seriously. And, well,” he shrugs, all eloquence leaving him the moment he sees the shy, hopeful smile spread across her lips. “My heart is with you.”
Y/n can hardly believe her ears. She thought that he didn’t…that there was no chance of…but rather than dwell on all her miscalculations, or the myriad of dangers that haunt their future, she decides to just enjoy the moment. She throws her arms around Legolas’ neck, and he grips her tightly against him.
She turns her cheek to rest on his shoulder, unable to contain her grin. “You hold mine as well. I love you, Legolas.”
He pulls back only to rest his forehead against hers, head swimming from the joy of her acceptance and at being this close to her. “And I love you.” She lets out a giddy laugh and he closes his eyes, soaking in the sound. But then he focuses again, for there is something important he still must ask. “Will you accept my offer of courtship?”
Y/n can’t help herself from bumping her nose against his affectionately, and it feels so wonderful, so free to be with him this way. She has no desire for her future to continue without him, and so, her answer is found easily. “Of course.”
Relief settles in Legolas’ bones, the nerves finally leaving him and being replaced with happiness.
Just as their lips meet, the four friends break through the tree-line, back from collecting supplies.
Gimli’s triumphant shout can be heard for miles.
“Pay up, lads!”
A/n The end! This is the last chapter of this mini-series! Thanks for sticking with me as I had some fun with this one. I keep tag-lists, so at any time, just let me know if you would like to be tagged in anything. I’m in the planning stages of a Haldir x OC fic, and while I usually stay away from OC’s, I just cannot fathom typing “Y/n” for the length that I’m planning on making that story. So be on the lookout for that! Hope you all are taking care of yourselves and please know that my inbox is always open. Lots of love!
LITN tag list: @angelic-kisses13 @lainphotography @anangelwhodidntfall @sheriffgerard @themerriweathermage @k-llama-llama @hirokosoul @wellfuckmyexistence @ipsychosocial @anjhope1 @my-lotr-obsession-is-unhealthy
218 notes · View notes
sims-for-semi · 2 years
Text
Check in Tag
Hi! It’s been a while.
@jsasimmer tagged me in this. Thank you, bella! 💖 I didn’t realize how long ago this was lol
Why did you choose your url? because i’m semillita, and these are my sims (and you’re watching simblr channel). sims for semi. 
How long have you been on tumblr? 2011, jeez. but on simblr since 2017.
Do you have a queue tag? Yes, now used for the wonderful reblogs!
Why did you start your blog in the first place? because I used to follow some simblrs on my main account, and started thinking, hey, I could do that too... 
Why did you choose your icon/pfp? because if the over-emotional trait was a person, that’d be me.
Why did you choose your header? I love The Sims 1 and when I put it there I was literally too depressed to study (should I change that to the I’m too depressed to go to work now?)
What’s your post with the most notes? Bella Goth x Gone Girl post, I believe.
How many mutuals do you have? / How many followers do you have? Don’t know about the mutuals, but I recently hit 800 followers! Not bad for a girl with no talent.
How many people do you follow? over a thousand me thinks.
Have you ever made a shitpost? yes and I even have a tag for it
How often do you use tumblr each day? during the summer and winter breaks, every single day. now I’m working so I try to log in every week 🥲
Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won? No, and if anyone has beef with me, it’s one-sided. I’m tired.
How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts? I usually reblog them (?)
Do you like tag games? I love them! Great way to get to know the community.
Do you like ask games? When I’m bored I do them all the time lol.
Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? I think a couple of big names in the simblr community follow me, but that’s probably because of the long time being active here.
Do you have a crush on a mutual? I have a crush on anyone here. hey talented person reading this. i like you 😉
not tagging anyone because idk how late to the party I am, but if you haven’t been tagged... semi is tagging you now. get blessed.
7 notes · View notes
azucanela · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
chapter iii
Tumblr media
pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
warnings: cursing. mentions of violence. mild violence. 
word count: 2k
summary: the internet is enamored with the idea of y/n l/n and bakugou katsuki, two renowned pro heroes, dating. the first issue? the pair rarely interacts. the second issue? apparently, they hate each other, not that anyone knows about that bit. of course, after one night of many mistakes, the whole world knows.
Tumblr media
series masterlist
Tumblr media
MAYBE SHE WAS OVERCOMPENSATING, but at least overall productivity of the agency was up. If Y/N was honest, throwing herself into her work probably wasn’t her best idea, in fact one might consider it self destructive. But.. she was frustrated. And the pent of emotions of not only herself but those around her had to go somewhere. 
And what better place to put that energy than her work?
Of course, as she slams a villain into the wall of concrete before bringing their hands together and handcuffing them, all Y/N feels is boredom. Dissatisfied, unfulfilled. Although it had taken her a while to separate her own emotions from that of others when she was younger, it doesn’t take much effort to determine that those feelings are entirely her own. 
In a job like hers, boredom was something to be grateful for, something to welcome with open arms all things considered. And busy season would be coming up for heroes, so Y/N probably should be grateful for the lack of activity. And yet… The calm before the storm was always rather unnerving. 
Y/N can hear the sirens of the police, brows furrowing as she sighs. Dragging the man she had just apprehended along with her despite his grunts of protest. Y/N watches as a police car pulls around by the entrance of the alley she’d cornered him in.
He was just a petty thief, but Y/N had been trying to keep out of the spotlight for the time being, unless her assistance was warranted. And thus far, it hadn’t been.
Inhaling deeply, Y/N watches as an officer exits the car, a smile coming across their face as they see her. “Hey Empatha!” They wave, and Y/N can’t help but offer a small smile and wave of her own back as she hands the criminal over to them.
“Hi, everything alright at the precinct?” It’s meant to be a polite, simple question, but Y/N can practically— literally— feel the way the officer lights up at the question. As though they’d been meaning to bring it up. Y/N had interacted with most of the Police Department briefly, so they weren’t entirely unfamiliar but… that didn’t mean Y/N wanted to stick around for long.
They shrug, pushing the thief into the back of the car despite his protests and shutting the door on him. “We had some plumbing troubles earlier— or something like that I don’t know… but yeah. Everything has been good. Kinda.” 
Unsureness is bleeding into their tone, so Y/N raises a brow as she finds herself asking, “something on your mind?” 
The officer offers Y/N a sheepish smile, “we could really use your help on one of our cases, the Stain Copycat, I assume you’ve heard?” 
Nodding slowly, Y/N finds herself wanting to exit this conversation, and soon, “I can look into sending someone from the Agency but it’s Hawks’ choice.” She looks around with a frown, “I have a feeling the press will be here soon so I should get going, but I’ll be in contact.” She says with a smile, taking a step back before disappearing into the shadows.
Telen’s ability. Y/N borrowed it frequently, and from the soreness of her body, Y/N had a feeling that they’d had quite the day as well. He was capable of teleporting through shadows, light was a major inhibitor but it was an incredibly useful ability and had saved her life a countless number of times. Whether that was literally or from… conversations like that one. 
Y/N had been avoiding Endeavor’s agency since far too many of her old classmates were sidekicks there. As much as she wanted to help, her presence wasn’t necessary. And she had heard about the Stain Copycat case, the one who had yet to be caught, the exception. Hawks had mentioned it during one of their calls recently, so technically she wasn’t lying when she said someone would be sent over to help. 
Just not her. Anyone but her. 
With a sigh, Y/N finally appears in the locker room of the agency. Welcoming the smell of blood, sweat, and probably tears.
It had been a long day, and Y/N quickly decided there was no better way to amend that than with coffee. She’s changing into her civilian clothes— having ended her shift at the agency for the day— inside the locker room dedicated to such things. Patrol had been mostly quiet today, which she was grateful for, but that didn’t make her any less suspicious as to why things had been so quiet. 
Y/N makes her way out of the locker room once she’s changed, and through the agency, offering a smile to Telen as she finally steps out of the agency doors. “You alright today? I can feel the soreness.” She says, walking backwards as she speaks to him, while he holds the door open for the both of them. 
Telen offers her a smile, “yes. It appears I took quite the hit.” He brings a hand to the back of his neck, “not the best day.”
Y/N raises a brow, “wanna come with me? I’m gonna get a drink, maybe something to eat at the café a few blocks from here.” She’d always enjoyed Telen’s presence, he was calm, quiet, but good company nonetheless. Someone who listened, but could certainly maintain a conversation. They’d been working together for a few years now and Y/N had grown to like him. That and she would be returning later regardless seeing as Lorelai had requested a coffee herself. 
Telen shakes his head, “I still have one more patrol, but if I happen to come around there, I might stop by.”
She nods, raising her hand to wave to him as one final goodbye before turning on her heel, and almost instantly a rush of wind is hitting her, though she finds it refreshing as she stares to the sky, a grey color, clouds shielding the sun from view. 
It’s a nice day, she decides, looking to her left. Hawks had placed his agency rather strategically, and by strategically, that meant nearby a café she had been going to for longer than she could remember. Y/N was close friends with the owner now, and many of the employees there. So her presence wasn’t anything astonishing, though Y/N had offered time and time again to advertise their business, they’d always declined. The owner had insisted it was nice being a small business, rather than one swarming with customers. 
Y/N had made the shop her safe space, most of the time, those who recognized her seemed to understand her desire to be left alone. And it was relieving, to be normal for a moment. Not to say that she was special or anything, but life as a hero was… an overwhelming one. She’d been lucky to evade the press earlier.
It doesn’t take long to arrive, a short walk is all it takes before Y/N is opening the door to enter the small shop. Almost instantly, she’s greeted with a bag of chips to the face, having been thrown by a grinning Lily, one of the longtime employees that Y/N had known for years now. “Hey superstar.” 
In response Y/N groans, moving to cover her face in the scarf she’d worn and bury her face inside it, cheeks warming in embarrassment. “Shut up, Lily.” Her eyes drift around, “where’s everyone else?”
Lily shrugs, already moving to make Y/N’s usual as she replies, “we’re a bit short staffed today.” She looks to Y/N, “we haven’t seen you in a while. Been too busy for us, have you?” Her words are teasing, but Y/N finds herself feeling bad for not visiting more often. Her schedules become more busy as the time for announcing the top heroes draws near, more meetings, more events, more press conferences. And with her little scandal with Bakugou, she would likely have to give up even more of her time.
“Never.” Y/N finally replies, moving to stand at the counter and placing her bag of chips there. Y/N pulls out her wallet.
Lily waves her off, “on the house.” 
Y/N rolls her eyes, “I make a ridiculous amount of money, let me spend it.” She says, pulling out a few $20 bills, though Lily simply looks to her pointedly. This only encourages Y/N, causing her to keep eye contact with her as she drops all of the bills into the tip jar. “Split it with the rest of the staff.” 
It's true, Y/N’s salary was… more than enough. Hawks had never been frugal with his money, his employees were well off and she was grateful for it but at this point she had more money than she knew what to do with. She was no Number 2 Hero but her bank account spoke for itself. 
Despite this, Lily glares in response, before sliding a drink over to Y/N. “Regardless, how have you been, aside from getting black out drunk at a very important Gala and then proceeding to talk shit about—”
“I doubt she wants to talk about that Lily,” The bell by the door rings, signaling that someone has arrived, and of course, there stands Rosalyn, another one of the employees. Her hair is greying now, but she still bares the same smile and calming persona that she did when Y/N first met her. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was bad.” 
Y/N is grinning as she walks over to Rosalyn, throwing her arms around her as the pair hugs, “good to see you Ros.” Lily pretends to roll her eyes at the sigh of physical affection, though she smiles at the sight of the reunion, before heading through the door behind the counter.
When they pull away, Rosalyn pats Y/N’s head with a smile, “and you! It’s been a while, look how you’ve grown.”
Y/N’s brows furrow as a small laugh escapes her, “I doubt I’ve grown any.” If she’s honest, Rosalyn and Lily hadn’t changed at all. Y/N wondered if they viewed her the same as they used to after all these years as well. And maybe she was scared of the answer, and that’s why she never asked. She could see it, Y/N doesn’t necessarily know or remember when, but she can recall the first time she noticed that they looked at her differently. 
Things had changed at one point, and maybe Y/N’s visit to the coffee shop was just her attempt at holding onto the past. A past where she was happier, where things were simpler. 
Moving to remove her jacket, Rosalyn shrugs, “perhaps I’ve shrunk. Happens with old age I suppose.” The woman heads over to the small entrance that leads to behind the counter, which also happens to have a door to the backroom. “I’ll be back shortly,” she says. Offering Y/N a smile that she quickly returns before heading into the backroom. 
Y/N nods, taking the chips and her drink to one of many tables by the window and placing them down there to save her spot— though the shop is currently empty, she has no doubt that the busier hours will start soon. Regardless, Y/N comes to a stand to move to the display window filled with different pastries. Their new selection is certainly interesting, the sight makes her miss baking. Not that she has the time nowadays.
With a sigh, Y/N straightens her posture, when the bell rings, indicating that someone has entered. Turning Around. Y/N’s eyes widen as her mouth gapes open due to the sight of the one and only Bakugou Katsuki.
Tumblr media
note: shorter chapter but i hope it was worth it hehehehehehe
Tumblr media
107 notes · View notes
thewritingstar · 3 years
Text
I Wont Cast You Aside
Pairing: Marinette x Chloe 
Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug 
Word count: 5k (was suppose to be 1k but I wanted a bigger story line) 
Note: This is a commission for the wonderful @wombatking I want to thank you for not only commissioning this but trusting me with a pairing I haven’t written for yet. One thing about writing fics for a new pair is the fear of not being able to capture them together. I rewrote this beast so many times and I hope that you enjoy it! 
Thank you for being so patient with me and I really hope you like it :) Also yes, the title is a pun, I couldn’t resist. 
                                        ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
There's a rush of adrenaline in her system as she takes off running. She ignores the yell from Ladybug and soon the wind is all she can hear. The streetlights of Paris swirl into a bright blur as she practically flies from rooftop to rooftop. Nothing can stop her as her target is locked in sight and she can feel a victory coming.
For months she's been gaining traction and skill. All she wanted was to prove to Ladybug that her choice shouldn’t turn into a regret. That she was meant to be Queen Bee.
Another jump and she's closing in. She can almost feel the energy of the akuma buzzing within that cursed object. Her eyes narrow and she calls out for her spinning top while activating her venom. It's over now. That's what the blonde tells herself as she sends the weapon spinning through the night and wraps it around the leg of the villain of the day.
Pride. It swells through her as they go down with a thud. They won, a victory that has her name stamped on it and she wants nothing more than to have Ladybug and Chat Noir beside her to finish off the job.
She turns to look for them but all she sees is the stars dancing on the horizon. It's strange and she can feel her stomach twist in a way she doesn’t like.
A dark chuckle comes from the villain below.
“Ladybug?” She whispers to herself and as she turns towards her voice, there's a louder sound that rings through her ears. “Ladybug?” She calls out louder. She doesn’t understand. They were right behind her. She wasn’t that far, they had to have followed her.
“No one is coming.” The villain says.
Queen Bee looks at their eyes but there's nothing there. No sense of emotion can be found and for a second, she wonders if they are alive. It's terrifying and she feels alone. Their laughter turns to an uproar.
“You’re nothing!” They scream as they try to jolt towards her. “You’re a waste of space. A hero with no merit.”
The ground below her starts to sink like quicksand. Her throat goes dry, and she tries to scream but nothing comes out. Pain shoots through her body and she can feel tears streaming down her face as the world above her disappears and she falls into a darkness.
“Ladybug!” She manages to yell but the light above is cut from her view and now she's falling.
Her body is weightless and every fear she's had is echoing around her like a cave of personal torment. A golden flash surrounds her, and she can feel the power drain from her system. Pollen stares at her with lifeless eyes as the comb hovers in her face, taunting her as the gold turns black like ink.
“You were never a queen.” Pollen spats.
It crumbles into dust as her lungs squeeze from the scream leaving her lips.
“Pollen!” Chloe cries but she's nowhere to be found as the dust surrounds her in the dark.
                                          ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
Chloe wakes with a jolting start.
She looks around to see herself in her room. No plunging darkness or a disappointed Pollen. The voice of Ladybug isn’t calling out to her. She's in her bed safe and sound. Her heart rate is skyrocketing as she tries to catch her breath. She turns to the clock and sees that it's barely four in the morning. The nightmares had been happening more and more. Nights become restless and her body is starting to move to the brink of exhaustion.
That night of her failure plays on a repeat. It's like a broken record. The face of the villain staring at her as she falls, the scream coming from her throat and both Ladybug and Chat Noir’s voices echoing in her ears. No matter how many times she has it, the fear doesn’t leave.
“It's just a nightmare.” She tells herself, but she can see it and feel it so clearly that she isn’t sure if it's just her imagination.
Chloe grabs a tissue from her nightstand and wipes the sweat off her brow. All she wanted was a peaceful night of rest but apparently that's too much to ask for. Her stomach feels like it's turned upside down as she makes her way to the bathroom, moving slower than what she was used to.
Cold water splashes against her face and she stares at the mirror to a face that looks paler than usual. Bags have formed under her eyes and not even her imported skin care can undo the damage of losing sleep. Even the blue of her eyes had seemed to lose their brightness.
“You’re okay.” She whispers with a shaky voice and swallows hard. “You’re okay.”
It's the only thing she can say to herself. The only thing that can calm the storm from within until the nightmare strikes again.
She makes her way back to her bed that feels more like a prison at this point. Bedrest sounded so glamorous at the time but now that she's been stuck here for almost two weeks, she wanted nothing more than to leave. She is afraid to close her eyes. Afraid that when she does, the darkness will form once again.
Suddenly there's a knock on her balcony door, it breaks her from her thoughts. There's hardly any wind tonight and the trees had just been cut so there's no way for the tree to reach the glass. For a moment she wonders if it's another akuma. Maybe she wasn’t awake after all, and her nightmare is continuing. The door gets another knock.
Her eyes narrow towards the door, but the shadow of a figure suggests that the wind wasn’t the culprit. She recognizes the figure instantly.
Her stomach goes into a knot and shame fills her heart. A part of her didn’t want to open it. She’d rather not face the superhero again but knows that's not possible. Instead, she huffs and manages to get over to the door without falling over.
She opens the door to Ladybug who stands in front of her with flowers and a soft smile on her face. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Chloe steps aside and lets the hero pass by. “It's four a.m.”
“I know, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Haven’t gotten the chance to see you.” Ladybug looks down at the cast that adores Chloe’s right leg. Guilt washes over her and when their eyes meet, she knows she was caught staring.
Chloe nods and bites her lip, trying to ignore the look on Ladybug's face. “It's fine, you’re busy.”
“Queen Bee.” Ladybugs starts but Chloe raises her hand to stop her as they sit on the couch for more comfort. She wants to tell Chloe every single apology in the books. Tell her it's her fault she got hurt and to make sure she knows she's going to do anything in her power to help her out.
Instead, Chloe frowns. “Ladybug, don’t.”
“Chloe.” She had brought her a bouquet of bluebells and marigolds, her favorite and she wonders how she knew but also doesn’t question the gift. “I’m so sorry.”
This was a surprise. She looks at the superhero, distress clear on her face. “Why are you apologizing? I’m the one who got hurt.”
“On my account. If I stayed with you, your foot wouldn’t be broken and don’t try to change my mind on that. I couldn’t reach you in time. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am.”
Chloe holds her tongue but then again, she's not one to keep quiet. “I don’t blame you. It's not your fault nor Chats. I was clumsy and too eager, but I learned my lesson. I’ll be fine, it's a clean break anyways.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I should have protected you better.”
“We all make mistakes, but you aren’t the reason I broke my foot.” She lets out a sigh. “Maybe it's for the best.”
“It's not.” Ladybug frowns and shakes her head. “I just want Queen Bee back by my side. I want you back on our team.”
The blonde looks towards the flowers, a sense of comfort washing over her. “I’m surprised you even want me on your team.” Her voice is low and she's trying not to cry but it hurts too much to think that her time as a superhero is done just because she was reckless and in a cast. An ugly white cast that clashes with every clothing article she owns. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
A laugh bubbles from Ladybugs lips. “Of course, I still want you! You’ve grown so much over these past few months and sure, it was a rocky start but look at you. You’re a member of this team Chloe. Chat and I can always rely on you in a pinch.” And she means it. Chloe of course doesn’t know her true identity and maybe she doesn’t quite believe her words, but Ladybug does.
She smiles at the blonde who just happens to be her girlfriend in her civilian life and she's trying to keep her guilt at bay. The moment she found out Queen Bee had broken a leg, she blamed herself. Tikki tried to reason with her, begged her to see the bigger picture and that accidents happen. If it was anyone's fault, it was that damned Hawk Moth.
A small weight comes off of Chloe’s shoulder as she relaxes. “Thank you, Ladybug, that means a lot.” Chloe smiles and wipes her eyes. “I promise I’ll get better soon; you can count on that!”
“I know I can.” Ladybug smiles and stands. “I should get going, it's late-or well, early. Take it easy Chloe and if you need anything, just holler.”
Chloe watches as she leaves through the balcony door. She looks at the arrangement of flowers and a small smile forms on her lips. Grabbing her crutches, she manages to get to her bed much easier than before.
Her eyes flutter close and for the first time in a while the nightmare doesn’t greet her.
                                         ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
It's odd. The limo pulls up to the school and yet she doesn’t want to leave. The moment the word got out that Queen Bee had gotten hurt, and her civilian form was now stuck in a cast, chaos within the press had broken out.
She was used to the flashes of cameras, being the mayor's daughter had some publicity perks, but she didn’t like the limelight on her injury. She wanted to be treated normally. People began to treat her like she was made of glass. She wasn’t. She was fine. Yeah...she was fine.
Even her friends saw her differently. Adrien seemed on edge when visiting her as if he personally caused it. Little did she know the fear he was holding as he handed her flowers and told her that he can rely on her for anything. Sabrina tried her hardest not to overwhelm her with concern, but the redhead had burst into tears when she had seen her best friend being bandaged up.
Flowers had started to pile up in her room that she sent them to decorate the lobby of the hotel and even offered others the chocolate she had been gifted. Even many fan letters addressed to Queen Bee had begun to show up and although she adored the attention, reading them while stuck in bed had begun to feel like she had let everyone down.
All she wanted was for people to say their comforting words and go on with their day. Of course, seeing all of her friends standing on the steps of the school to greet her with smiles was a step in the direction she was aiming for. She knew that all of their hearts were genuine, and she didn’t mind each of them personally visiting her. They cared about her, and she was happy to know that she had people who did.
Over the past few months, she has grown into a better person. She was tired of being seen as the mean popular girl and learned that making friends with compassion and kindness was always the better way. After all she had learned first-hand from her girlfriend.
Out of the crowd Marinette stepped forward. She held out her hand to help Chloe out of the limo and grabbed her bag so she could get onto her crutches.
“Hi.” Marinette said with a smile and kissed her on the cheek. “How are you doing?”
In all honesty, she was exhausted. Tired of this ugly cast, tired of being treated with kid gloves, tired of it all. But the one thing she would never get bored of, was her girlfriend and those beautiful blue eyes that held care and affection.
The blonde forced a small smile onto her lips. “I’m doing alright, but I would feel better if you walked me to class.” She looked towards the rest of their friends and smiled. “Don’t worry these crutches won’t stop me from being fabulous so no need to get worried.”
“Happy to have you back.” Adrien smiled as many heads nodded in agreement.
“Sabrina told me that she has all of your notes in your locker.” Marinette said right as the bell rang.
Chloe huffed. “I forgot that I still have schoolwork. This is ridiculous.”
“Utterly ridiculous?” Marinette giggled just as Chloe’s cheeks flushed.
As they started walking, Chloe took Marinette's hand. “I’m really happy to see you.” She whispered.
“You’ve seen me for the past three days straight.” Marinette responded.
“I know but you make everything so much better, even if you do nothing but just be in the same room as me.”
“Aww Bee.” She blushed. “I like being around you too.”
They reached their classroom just as the bell rang signaling that class was about to start. Marinette dropped off Chloe’s bag and helped her into her seat. “I’ll see you at lunch.” She winked and went to her seat next to Alya.
                                          ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
Marinette stared at the back of Chloe’s head the entire day. Although she had seen her as Ladybug the night before, it didn’t help the fact that the guilt was stirring around her. Again, and again, she tried to remind herself that it wasn’t her fault. That her girlfriend falling from the rooftop and waking up with a broken leg was just a mishap with an akuma.
It didn’t help though. She could see it in Chloe's eyes. The desperation on her face when she was told that the cast would be there for a few months. Those crutches would become a new normal and she wouldn’t be able to do certain activities with her friends such as swimming just as the sun was coming out. It wasn’t fair and she felt like she let her down not only as a superhero, but as a friend.
There was something off about Chloe as she went through the day. At lunch, people gave her some flowers and offered to sign her cast, but she had declined any signatures. Marinette offered her company on the bench and held out a small box of sugar cookies. “I made these last night for you.”
She could see Chloe’s shoulders instantly relax a little and a small beam of pride was felt as Chloe took the box and thanked her.
“I was wondering if you wanted me to come over tomorrow night. My mom and dad are out for the weekend on a delivery so I would be alone.” Marinette said. “I was thinking of a movie night, and I made some designs for your cast and crutches.”
There was a part of Chloe that wanted to be by herself. However, the other side of her wanted nothing more than to be cuddled up next to Marinette while a movie played in the background. Her social battery was becoming challenged lately but Marinette only seemed to add energy as she never got tired of being around her.
“Honestly, I could use some girlfriend time. I love my dad, but he's been babying me and although I’m in a cast, I can still handle myself. Plus, I can hardly stand this ugly thing.” She tapped on her cast. “Tomorrows perfect.”
“Awesome! I’ll bring over my art supplies and a bunch of movies.” Mari smiled and kissed her on the cheek as the bell rang. “Here let me get your bag.” She offered and put it on her shoulder.
“It's alright, I can probably carry it myself.” Chloe tried to reach for it but instead Marinette took her hand and placed a kiss to her knuckles.
“I’m sure you can but I would like to carry my girlfriend's stuff.”
“Alright Dupain-Cheng. Just let me know when you get tired of it, all we need is for you to fall down the stairs and get put into your own cast.” Chloe teased.
Marinette rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m not that clumsy.”
“Of course not. But you are cute.” She winked and started to walk to class leaving a flushed Marinette behind.
                                        ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
Everywhere she looked there was glitter. It was as if someone had taken all the sparkle particles in the city and sent them straight to her bedroom. Yellows, purples, golds and pinks of all shaped plastic that was as tiny as the tip of the pin covered her hands.
“Mari, I love the enthusiasm but am I going to have to get my room deep cleaned?” Chloe asked as she wiped her hands on a towel and yet the glitter still shined across her palm.
Marinette giggled as she grabbed another paintbrush and dipped it into black paint. “It will come out soon, or in a day-maybe even a year.”
The blonde wanted to be annoyed that she could potentially wake up covered in the stuff but seeing her girlfriend enjoying herself as she decorated those ugly crutches was enough to make her okay with the sacrifice of her rug.
“Well as long as my crutches look better than anyone’s ever had, I don’t mind.” She smirked.
“I’m sure they will. And done!” Marinette exclaimed and stood up to examine the crutches. “What do you think?”
Chloe always knew that Marinette was an artsy person, anyone could tell that just by looking at her. No matter how many times she was shown her work, she would always be in awe at how amazing it was.
The crutches had gone from a dull light grey to a masterpiece. They had been painted a light yellow and had black flowers all around them. Small bees were hidden all around and had glitter on top to add a little extra flair. Even the cushions that her arms rested on were now wrapped with black fabric.
“They look stunning.” Chloe gasped.
“A Queen Bee theme for a queen.” Marinette smiled and placed them against the wall so that the paint could dry. “They should be dry in a couple hours so if you need to move around, I’ll help you around.”
“Thank you, Marinette, I love them a lot.”
“Anything for you.” She kissed her cheek. “Now are you ready for the cast? I was thinking of painting sunflowers and then our friends can sign the petals to make it even more special.”
“That sounds lovely.” Chloe says as Marinette moves her leg, so her cast is sitting in her lap.
“Perfect! Will you pass me the yellow paint?” She points.
Chloe reaches to the bucket of paints and picks out the tube of yellow and hands it to her. Her eyes shift over to her crutches, and she focuses on the bees. She loves it and thinks it's pretty, but her chest still feels tight when she thinks about her being Queen Bee.
“Marinette, can I tell you a secret?” She whispers and she feels like she wants to take the words back when Marinette looks up at her.
“Of course, always.” She responds and sets her brush down.
“I shouldn’t be Queen Bee.”
Marinette's eyes shot wide open as she's shocked from the words that left her lips. “What? Why would you say that?”
She expected her to react like this but something about the look in Marinette's eyes makes her wonder why she looks so upset. She suddenly feels so small, and she knows that if she speaks, tears will follow.
She feels Marinette take her hand. “Is this because you got hurt?”
Chloe sniffles and she turns her head away. “It's more than just that. It's nightmares and letting everyone down.”
“Chloe.” She frowns. “You didn’t let anyone down.”
“It's ridiculous Marinette. I really thought that I could be this amazing superhero and be helpful. Instead, I was a fool that almost cost us the win. Ladybug told me that the miraculous would be waiting for me once I’m better, but I don’t think I should go back. I can’t mess up again.” Chloe looks at her and now she can see it.
She can see the heartbreak in Chloe’s eyes. The bags from hardly any sleep are showing up and she wishes she noticed sooner. Every time she had visited Chloe, she never talked about the nightmares, or the cast and she didn’t want to bring it up herself. It's weighing on her and all she wants to do is reach out and take away the pain.
Tears gather in Marinette's eyes. She had never seen pure devastation on her girlfriend's face or seen how vulnerable she is allowing herself to be. The conversation she had when she was Ladybug comes back. She takes a breath because she isn’t sure her words would work when Ladybugs didn’t do so well.
“You know what I admire about you?” Marinette starts and cups her cheek. “You have a remarkable amount of bravery. It's okay to mess up and make mistakes, but what really counts is if you get back up again.”
A sigh leaves the blondes' lips. “I don’t know.”
“I can see it in your eyes Chloe. No matter what, you love helping people as Queen Bee. Getting hurt doesn’t make you a bad superhero. It makes you human. No one will blame you for being scared to go back out there. You have so much courage just considering it. I believe Ladybug when she says she wants you back out there. You’re amazing and I wish I could show you how great you are.”
“Do you really think she means it? That she’s waiting for me?” She asks.
“Definitely. Ladybug would never cast you aside.” She reassures her.
Through her sobs Chloe let’s out a laugh. “That's exactly what Chat Noir said.”
Marinette's eyes widen when she realizes the pun she just accidentally said and scoffs. “Of course, he did.” Her thumb catches another tear. “I mean it Chloe. Not as just your girlfriend but as someone who truly believes in you and is on your side. You are the only Queen Bee for Paris. Plus, it would be utterly ridiculous of you not to go back out there.” She tried to make her smile.
And it works. The tears slow as Chloe takes a deep breath. “It would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?”
Marinette scoots closer and nuzzles her nose against hers. “I mean if you quit then I couldn’t brag at how my amazing, stunning and absolutely gorgeous girlfriend is one of the greatest superheroes the world has ever seen.”
“Well, we couldn’t let that happen.” Chloe giggles as she feels her heart becoming lighter.
It becomes clear to Chloe that she can’t let this affect her. She wouldn't let a broken foot and fear hold her back. No, she was going to be the hero her girlfriend believed her to be. She wanted to rise to the challenge and get her mojo back. Make sure that Ladybug knew that she was ready to get back out there and be back on her team. She wanted to see Pollen again and help stop Hawk Moth.
“You’re amazing Chloe.” Marinette and that's enough for Chloe to want to be better.
It has always been Marinette cheering her on. She won’t let her down. She leans forward and takes Marinette's lips slowly. It's soft and slow but fills her stomach with butterflies. A warmth fills her chest as Marinette kisses her back. She runs her hand through her dark hair, pulling her impossibly closer and she can feel the smile forming on her girlfriend's lip.
“Thank you, Marinette, for believing in me.” She said as they pulled apart.
“I always will Chloe.” She responds just as she kisses her again.
                                       ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
                                                  A month later
“Alright Ms. Bourgeois, your cast is officially off, and you won’t be needing to rely on crutches anymore. All I suggest is taking it easy for about a week or two, but you recovered extremely well.” The doctor smiled and Chloe could feel a new freedom as she wiggled her toes.
“It's about time.” She spoke.
“You can discard your crutches in the other room if you no longer want them.”
Chloe turned to her crutches that were still as pretty as the day they were painted. “Absolutely not. These crutches are the best in Paris and there is no way that I am getting rid of them.” She then sees her cast sitting on the back counter. “I want to keep that too.”
“You want to keep your cast?” The doctor questions.
She only scoffs and hops off the medical table. “Of course! My friends worked hard to make it look special, it's going to be framed to remember my time of bravery.”
The doctor shrugs. “Okay then, you’re free to go Ms. Bourgeois.”
“Thank you.” She huffed and grabbed her crutches before heading out toward her limo.
For the first time in what feels like a century, she's able to get into the car without any help. She can cross her legs and shift comfortably. “I’m never taking advantage of walking again.” She says to herself as she pulls out her phone. She dials a number and on the second ring it picks up.
“Mari? We have a date in the park this Saturday and I want your finest sugar cookies.”
She hears her girlfriend's soft laugh on the other side of the phone. “I’ll be there.”
                                       ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
It had been a few days since the cast was removed. She felt perfectly fine, and everyone was starting to revert back to treating her normally. No more kid gloves or pampering hand and foot excessively. Now it was them pampering her hand and foot normally, just how she liked.
She stared in the mirror as she reached for a hair tie to pull her hair up. Behind her, she heard a tapping noise coming from her balcony door. Looking at the time, she realized she had about ten minutes before her date with Marinette.
Another tap from the door and she rolled her eyes.
“Stupid wind.” She complained as she walked over to the door. Instead of the wind or a random object, the hero of creation stood before her. “Ladybug?” She gasped.
The hero offered a bright smile. “Heard you got the cast off and I’m in need of some assistance.” She said as she held out the miraculous box.
Any doubt or guilt she had carried over the last few weeks had vanished. There was a hint of pride in Ladybug's eyes as she offered the power to her.
Chloe reached out for it before hesitating. “I have a date with Marinette.” She frowned.
Panic settled in as Ladybug held the box. “Uh, I’m sure she will understand. After all, you are a superhero and about to help save Paris. Plus, you then get to tell her about all the exciting action you faced!” She said quickly.
Chloe thought about it for a second.
“I guess you’re right. She is one of the most understanding people around, unlike most of the fools I know. Now, hand me that box Ladybug, I have a villain to crush.”
A bright golden light emerged, and Pollen faced her with a smile.
“My Queen.” Pollen bowed.
“It's nice to see you again.” Chloe patted her on the head. “Time to remind Paris who their Queen Bee is!”
“Absolutely!” Pollen cheered.
“Pollen. Buzz on!”
As the light surrounded her, it filled her with joy. There was no darkness, no villain taking her down. Fear of failure was a thing of the past.
A hand came onto her shoulder. “It's good to have you back Queen Bee.” Ladybug said.
Chloe turned and engulfed her in a hug. It took them both by surprise, but she felt Ladybugs arms around her. “Thank you.” She whispered.
“You are always going to be Paris’s bee.”
                                        ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
There was a rush of adrenaline flowing through her as she transformed back to her civilian form. She handed Ladybug her miraculous and for the first time in months, she was at peace with herself.
“You did amazing Chloe! Give Marinette my best.” Ladybug said as she zipped away.
Without wasting any time, Chloe rushed over to the park to find Marinette sitting on a picnic blanket.
“Sorry for the wait.” Chloe said as she joined her on the blanket.
Marinette laughed and handed her a drink. “Don’t worry about it. I ran back to the bakery to grab some stuff, so your timing is perfect.”
“Well, you have to be perfect to be a superhero.” Chloe smirked proudly. “I’m not sure if you saw but I got the final blow in.”
“I was on the edge of my seat watching the Lady Blog. You looked incredible.” Mari said as she took her hand. “I’m really happy you didn’t give up. You’re an inspiration to others by teaching them to not let fear hold them back. Ladybug is lucky to have you.”
Chloe felt her cheeks flush at her girlfriend's words. Pure adoration was clear on Marinette's face. “If anything, I’m lucky to have you.” Chloe told her before kissing her on the lips.
                                        ≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾
Thank you for reading :) 
59 notes · View notes