#i am Not Well. i’ve sort of been avoiding admitting to myself just how badly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

punkscowardschampions · 8 months

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Una & Django

Una: 📰📢📺📢📻📢

Una: wake up! I’ve got news!

Django: What news could warrant getting me out of my bed

Una: not jumping on it, am I? what more could you want?

Django: Yeah, is it even preferable to the kid, like

Django: you’re a lot heavier 😵

Una: I’m about to be loads lighter if you’d listen

Django: me eyes are open, I’m listening

Django: tell me about your morning 💩 weirdo

Una: my fetishes are another convo

Django: stick to the one we’re on then 📢📢📢

Una: are you after good or bad to start?

Django: are you not after finding another bit of good first? 💩🥪

Django: We may as well skip to the bad bit

Una: I’ve had my breakfast, like

Una: but, here goes, now you’ve made your decision, fucking finally

Una: 👎 news is the 👍 won’t come true for ages yet

Django: ‘cos it’s all me being vague and baiting

Django: am I still 😴 or just thick?

Una: ask me the good news, thicko

Django: Tell me what you want to tell me, drama queen

Una: 🥁

Una: you’ll be rid of me soon

Django: Are you being serious? 🤡

Una: deadly, literally 💀👻

Django: You said you had your breakfast, never that you brought it straight back up

Una: cos I never did, feel free if you’d fancy your go, I’ll wait

Una: not like I’m short on time or anything ⏳

Django: I’m not the one that’s sick, I’m good

Django: when do you start the chemo and everything?

Una: you’re good?

Una: rub it in why don’t you, boy 😜

Django: you know what I mean, well as avoiding the question

Una: yeah, avoidance tactics 101

Django: for dummies is right

Django: Now you’ve dropped the news, you don’t wanna talk about it? Alright

Una: 💣 this is my biblical end times, it’s fucking nigh, alright? RIP me

Django: You got better last time, you’ll do it again

Una: nobody’s fannying about this time, they’ve said I’ll not

Django: yeah but, doctors, what do they know

Una: they know it’ll be months instead of years

Una: no 18th 🥳🎂

Django: 16th?

Una: yours or mine?

Django: Fuck

Django: have mine this year then

Una: you’ll have enough to cry about without me resorting to dirty tactics such as birthday theft

Django: It’s a swap and I’m surely doing the better for it, if you reckon you’ve got none left in you

Una: you’re only trying to be off school for it for once 👀

Django: ☀️🌊🤙

Django: D’ya want a sweet 16 or not, girl

Una: do I fuck? what sort of girl are you taking me for? 🤘

Una: punk rock princess already been a 🥳🎂 theme, remember? �� bye bye cancer numero uno

Django: There’s not time to be a cliche before you go?

Django: I like any excuse to dress up, remember

Una: the cliche’s dying cancer girl, dunno how we’re dressing that up, a 🤡 wig?

Una: nah, minnie mouse ears, it’s where they all go before they go 🏰

Django: We’ve all got to do it, suppose you can’t get more tired than that, true enough

Django: You get a plus one? Never getting there myself, lack of a wish

Una: probably ma or our Liam, but if you can’t push your luck when its run out, when else can you? might as well come with

Django: You can admit how badly you wanna get every princess’s signature, I won’t bring it up at the wake

Una: 🖕 I’m not the sort of terminal where I go about doing kindnesses for everyone I’ve ever met 💔 as your littlest sis will be to hear it, she can have my [whatever makeup idk] in my will, that’s her lot

Django: you wouldn’t be, as in life and all that 😘

Django: You’re perhaps a couple shades out but beggars can’t be choosers, not put her work in for the 🏰 trip

Una: her wannabe shade, but okay, okay, nothing in the foundation or concealer section of my makeup bag

Django: Does this mean you get to stop coming to school?

Una: least I’m owed

Django: so it’s one long summer

Django: an Irish one, can only give you so much

Una: keep an 🧅 close to hand and you can be my plus one for it too

Django: sure, you don’t wanna be every cunt’s sick note

Django: You’ve gotta fill your days somehow, you’ll need a hand

Una: you’ll spend it with me then? online school’s there for the bullied kids, you won’t need to redo the year or whatever once I’m off

Django: s’the last thing you need to concern yourself with, I’ll handle it

Una: steady on, big man, I’ll pass out from all that talk

Django: 😏 yeah, yeah

Django: that’s big talk from someone who reckons they’re 👻💀

Una: life in her yet

Una: so what’s going to happen tonight?

Django: well, isn’t a list the cliche, got to set aside the time to at least scribble that down so you don’t miss something important

Una: I’ll grab myself an old 💄 Gracie won’t be after having, if we’re behaving as a cliche, best be all in

Django: Not on your mirror, your mammy will have all your hopes and dreams off with a damp cloth

Una: love the metaphor, wiped away easy as that

Django: how is she

Una: beside herself

Django: yeah

Django: so keep your lipstick-smudged list of depravity private, we’ll let her see the bits that make her 🙂 not 😭

Una: I’d rather be dead than in this house bearing witness to more of her 😭

Una: get dressed

Django: Are you bringing Liam?

Una: he’d rather I was dead than dragging him ‘round behind me ‘til I am

Una: where’s Edie? I’ll chuck him at her

Django: More what I meant anyway, come here and leave him, we’ll be off

Una: won’t be having no driving lessons neither, you best call your first car my fucking ugly name

Django: first on the list, more like

Django: Lasses will just think I really love my dead nan, won’t get in the way

Una: I’ll haunt the back seat, have to do everything yourself if you want it done proper anyway

Django: You can’t be moaning about shit names when I’m lumbered with one no one can say

Una: yours suits you, and I like it, my opinion being the only which matters now

Django: now, is it 🤔

Una: true, it’s been that way since always, but especially now

Django: Fair enough, I reckon

Django: so change yours

Una: to what?

Django: what do you want to be called?

Una: there’s a list worth writing, bear with

Django: got clothes to put on, breakfast to have ⏳⏳ take it

Una: [start your list with the inevitable famous or fictional people you like but that I won’t commit to because you’re not gonna go for one of them, crossing them out like no]

Django: Not a Disney princess in sight, fake fan

Una: you don’t shh I’ll suggest we swap names as well as birthdays, see how much it gets in your way, Casanova

Django: I’ll make it work 😉

Una: [add to your list with girls names from songs you like, also a very teenage girl vibe]

Django: [say which songs you also like]

Una: [finally some place names, including some hilariously bad ones because it’s just places you wanna go like Memphis but you’re not gonna name yourself that lol, put a ✔️ next to your final one which you wanna pick which is Laurel for Laurel Canyon like my boo suggested because very her vibe and not somewhere you’re gonna get to visit or would wanna now probably given that none of the bad bitches live there still]

Django: You’re sold on Laurel, then, not [the most ridiculous one]?

Una: be serious for a sec, do you like it?

Django: S’perfect, you wouldn’t have picked it otherwise

Una: don’t go telling my mammy it’d put her in her grave

Django: I won’t go erasing your real one from my memory, I happen to like your mammy

Una: you can’t be erasing nothing, it’s the closest thing to living longer I’ve got, dying when you do 👴 in your bed

Django: those are my instructions, I suppose?

Una: unless I accidentally kill us during our illegal driving lessons

Django: always time for an accident

Una: tattoo me when I get there, we’ll call it an accident when ma sees

Una: [lyrics from one of the songs he said he liked obvs]

Django: I know how to do that safe as well as drive, you’re not dying yet, okay

Django: but, there’s plenty of places your mammy won’t see it

Una: my blood’s already more poisoned than you could manage with a little needle, just don’t swap it with me, case cancer’s catching how the conspiracy theorists would have us believe everything is

Django: I’m as scared as you are

Una: I know

Django: You deserve longer

Una: she’s got the desperate prayers covered, can take the woman out of Northern Ireland but not the previously lapsed catholic out of her, like

Django: least you’re not dying in [wherever exactly her mum is from], count your lucky stars

Una: there’s time, still

Una: should’ve renamed myself Lourdes

Django: by way of Paris, make it a tour

Una: you’d have to come, being single in Paris must be a hanging offence

Django: cool it off in time for the nuns, got it

Una: bucket list ✔️ seducing a nun’s gayer than I intended on going but as I’m off to hell already 🏳️‍🌈

Django: shut up

Django: lapsed is right, you’ll be off to purgatory which is much more boring and you’ll need all the memories you can grab

Una: fine, [some irrelevant boy she had a cringey crush on when she was younger, for the absolute pisstake cos she obvs doesn’t still fancy him] then

Django: Oh yeah, warm as the 🔥 of hell, he’ll have you

Una: sicker than chemo, more like it

Una: romance is dead too 💀👻

Django: nah, just set your sights higher

Una: [one of the celebs she listed as liking, whoever is the most hilarious off the list] ✔️

Django: how could they refuse 😇🙏

Una: and how could you when I set you as my backup option? 😇🙏

Django: good thing you don’t need to charm me

Una: I’ll bring flowers and chocolates if that’s what you want, sweetheart

Django: what do you want, the hospital not fancying either?

Una: I don’t get what I want, not dying ‘til I’m at least boring and middle aged, if not proper old and grey, isn’t on the cards

Django: Something I can at least steal

Django: I thought maybe my mam’s years were mine to give out but it don’t look like it

Una: I’ll pass whatever message you’ve got for her on when we meet, especially if it’s a fuck you, but it don’t need to be limited to one

Django: have that on me

Django: never knew her, she’s younger than you’ll be

Una: there’s nothing you feel up for telling her?

Una: or asking? I could ask about your da and send a message back to you

Django: How are you telling me any better than she hasn’t bothered to?

Una: I’d find a way, do I not always?

Django: True

Una: never met an eejit I couldn’t wrap ‘round my little finger, be the same in purgatory

Django: as one of those eejits

Una: you’ve dressed up for me, no doubt

Django: Depending on your definition

Una: I’m accepting no less than full disney princess, think on if that’s not what you’ve done

Django: I’ll dig out the tiara 🙄🤪

Una: yay!

Django: You and your kinks

Una: you’re not ready for that convo yet, babe

Django: Can’t have you fainting

Una: unless it’s a kink of yours, me passed out

Django: because I’m that much of a wrongen

Una: people like all sorts, don’t mean you’re about to be off on a crime spree 🚨

Django: Hmm

Django: in poor taste when you’re about to be permanently passed out though

Una: if you’ve a boner for dead bodies I don’t need to worry about you moving on quick when I am one, in poorer taste for you to when I’ve chucked you my virginity

Django: No one is going to forget you

Una: it’s inevitable, and basic maths ➕➖➗✖️

Una: you’ll all have longer without me than you had with, a whole fucking life where I’m not there cos mine’s cut short

Django: people don’t forget, trust me

Django: you think about the people that are gone more than anyone thinks about the people still here

Una: swear on your long life you’ll keep thinking about me, years from right now

Django: swear on everything

Una: I’ll stay as long as I can, to do everything

Django: I know you will

Una: starting when I get to yours, which is more like if, cos you live too far away from fucking everything

Django: Have to stop girls like you banging down my door every second of somehow, don’t we 😜

Una: you dunno no other girls like me

Django: thank god…

Django: so when’s your man [the celeb she said she fancies] likely to be in town then?

Una: [let’s say it’s a musician so she can drop gig dates at him so we can have them go in the future if we want to or we can be mean and say when it comes around she’s too sick to go]

Django: it’s a date, he just don’t know it yet

Una: eulogy’ll write itself, stand there and do a retell all of the night 📢

Django: Does he not write his own?

Django: that’s immortalised, ain’t it

Una: ooh probably, there’s your slot bumped and you out of a job, nice one

Django: slacking is what I do best

Una: 🌴🍹😎

Django: best stick to your end of the bargain and die or he’ll feel well awkward for noncing on you, like

Una: just needs reminding how many of the greats did it, if it’s good enough for Elvis and Bowie to name but 2

Django: sure, dream big, lad

Una: and dying needs more +s, he’s the only so far

Django: you’ve got a licence to take the piss, you just have to think how you wanna

Una: I already had, being a girl who don’t look like a creature from nobody’s nightmares, but point taken

Django: taking the mick out the little cancer girl wouldn’t have been a good look, even for [the nastiest gals you can think of in your year]

Una: that too, but I was avoiding saying it for the nerve it touches now I’m the cancer girl again ⚡️

Django: will your hair come out this time?

Una: ma’s trying to insist on another go through all that shite, but there’s nobody much except god on her side about it, let them 🥊 it out, her, the drs and my 2 dads, like

Django: Shame, I thought it was a good look

Una: you’re not being stopped from shaving yours, for cash or solidarity 🥚✨

Django: if I’m skint, I might

Una: I might do a bit, to buy us time, I dunno

Django: Not going to be another person telling you what to do

Una: cos you dunno either

Django: I don’t know what it’s like to be the one going through it

Una: take a guess, but it’s not to be a picnic with or without, unless it serves fuck all but 💩🥪 I’m still dying, least the symptoms of chemo are meant to have a ⏳ point

Django: If I was your ma, I’d want you to do it too

Una: which is a roundabout way of saying you want me to

Django: I don’t want you to die

Django: dunno if those are the same thing

Una: comes down to not wanting me to die yet or not ever, cos those are well different things, and only one of them is something I might be able to give you

Django: surely you want as long as you can get, for yourself?

Una: yeah, but I do know what it’s like

Una: and if I get twice as long but half of it’s taken up by feeling how I remember, or worse, then it’s not really twice as long

Django: okay, I see your point

Una: to go through it and die anyway takes the piss, but it’ll take the piss how soon they’ve said I’ll die if I don’t

Django: it’s all shit, basically

Una: you’re catching on

Django: 🥴🔨 eventually

Una: mercy killing like I’m some old 🐶

Django: was talking about my thick skull, honestly

Django: the shotgun emoji doesn’t exist anyway

Una: be a waste of a dying wish, but alright, see what I can do

Una: school shooters and eejits about to be forced into less than happy marriages can thank me in their prayers

Django: what a fan club to have 😭💔 for ya

Una: I bet you’ll have a lovely skull, by the way

Django: You’re such a nutter

Django: you couldn’t just have cancer in one place so I could heroically offer you a kidney or whatever, no

Una: sorry, no chance to be a hero here, I’ve shat that bed for you

Django: I’ll have to get over it

Una: you could move yourself closer to civilisation if you’re after doing something useful

Django: s’a big ask

Una: I’ve a licence for it, so says you

Django: true but I really, really like my freedom

Una: fine, don’t shave your head, take the money, and use it to buy a van you park in my ma’s drive 24/7

Django: big ✌️ hippie vibes or big 👀 stalker vibes?

Una: whichever dress up takes your fancy the most, bell bottoms or a balaclava

Django: why not both, eh

Una: more is more, that’s the spirit, matey boy

Django: maybe we’ll live above the shops again, always a possibility

Una: you loved it there

Django: yeah, that place is easier to rent out though, there’s always a family friend willing to housesit

Django: this place needs commitment, like

Una: I’ll ask my da to rent it for us

Django: That’d be top

Una: what’s it go per month? we’ll not have need for many unless the drs are gaslighting me

Django: I’d have to ask

Django: also who’s actually in there, Ali won’t want a rep as a landlord that chucks people out on the streets

Una: extenuating circumstances, give them the sob story and they’ll be off, same as my da’ll open his wallet when I remind him of the birthdays he won’t be forking out for, no wedding, graduation, or grandkids ever to pay for

Django: I’ll still get myself a van, just ‘cos

Django: can stalk other people

Una: should be on the lookout for an old 🚑 for the craic, steal one if there’s none for sale

Django: challenge accepted

Django: sure they must be knocking about somewhere… what do they do with them once they’re knackered 🤔

Una: might be a retirement scrapheap somewhere

Django: take out all the good bits

Una: better than killing all your happy memories living over the shops before when I die

Django: nah, you ain’t that special, don’t worry about it, like

Una: what a kind but barefaced lie to tell either of us

Django: not taking your ego any time soon, this cancer

Una: special is what it makes you, or so goes the lie they tell you on the children’s ward, despite how full of other kids in the same fucking boat it is

Django: adults hate having to tell the truth, most of them, especially to kids

Una: but friends don’t let friends die in 🌈 rooms when they’re not 4 no more, swear to me you won’t

Django: swear

Django: you’ll let some poor kid have it and be out the way with all the morphine they’ll give you

Una: I’ll show appreciation by sharing all my hard drugs

Django: 😂 tah, I’ll deffo stick around then

Una: you and [the rockstar from earlier]

Una: easy to ✔️ 3some off the list, like

Django: oh, easy, is it?

Una: get a bit of an ego too and don’t sell yourself short, he’d be lucky to have you

Django: Ha ha 😏

Una: when you’re dying you can pick the other person

Django: It’s not about him

Django: you’ve never heard of, idk, softening the blow

Django: 📰📢📺📢📻📢 after 📰📢📺📢📻📢 with you

Una: I don’t have time for softly, softly

Una: and I’m not in the mood for it neither

Django: alright

Django: what else is on your ✔️

Una: if in doubt, ask yourself, what would [the most shameless celeb of their era or any era she can think of] do?

Django: I figured that much

Una: as much as we can ‘til you go on without me and make me proud to watch as well as never bored, no pressure 👀☁️🔭☁️

Django: You make a far more convincing stalker

Una: it’s no to an itchy balaclava though, wig’s bad enough

Django: be all ⛓⛓⛓⛓ for your sins, you’ll love it

Una: we’re finally talking fetishes, are we?

Django: You complaining how long the journey over is

Una: it is, I’ll probably drop dead mid

Django: nah, you’ve always been lazy

Una: the hero you wanna be would offer to meet us halfway

Django: so you have to walk?

Una: here’s an opportunity for my first driving lesson

Django: no time like the present… hang on then, halfway

Una: I took a literal approach to storming out of home, with no thought to how knackering it’d be

Django: And who’s the eejit?

Django: bloody hell

Una: I had a point to prove!

Django: yeah I’m well aware you’d drop down dead to do it

Una: making our Liam carry me defeats it, and he’d rather die

Django: he’s lanky enough

Una: yeah, but so am I, unfair to him ‘til I’m proper skin and bone

Django: I’m on my way

Una: don’t get yourself pulled over, no use to nobody

Django: not an amateur, girl

Una: you can have that one as yours to prove

Django: like I ain’t all these years?

Django: psh, okay

Una: there’s an ego there, knew it

Django: never claimed to be 🥺😳🤓

Una: can’t decide if it’s 👍 or 👎 news

Django: you clearly like egos, [this rockstar because they always do lol]

Una: but I can’t knock 🥺😳 before I’ve tried it, might like that too

Django: [list boys in your year who are clearly the shyest of sweet nerds]?

Una: really ready to palm me off 💔

Django: I just told you I’m not, am I faking it for you now?

Una: just tell me roleplay isn’t your thing

Django: Pisstake

Una: years of practice

Django: 💐💐

Una: stealing them from scenes of accidents on your way’d be extreme poor taste and could be bad luck, I dunno 🥀

Django: you’ll have to pick your own 🥺😳 girl, there’s enough at ours

Una: there’ll be enough at my funeral, I’m banning them before

Django: in that case, please leave them alone and don’t go mental with some shears, like

Una: how much I can bruise and bleed I’m 100% banned from picking up fuck all unless it’s harmless and fit for the children’s ward 🧸

Django: 💉 still on the cards though, happy days

Una: technically you’re holding the tattoo gun and what ma don’t know won’t hurt her

Django: if you try to bleed to death, I’ll have to kill you just for being a dick

Una: I’ll stick to my nose and gums how it’s been up to now 🤞

Django: swear?

Una: I can’t, like, I’ll be a dick if I break it seconds and letters into [whatever the first word of this tattoo is]

Django: at least you’re not bullshitting

Django: I’ll do it faint, some poetic nonsense, right

Una: I don’t want it to be faint

Django: I know

Una: compromises have already fucking started

Django: okay, okay just tell me what to do if you turn my room into the shining

Una: 🚨🚑🚨

Django: That serious

Django: 👍 no pressure

Una: it’s all that serious now

Una: could be after getting an infection if somebody so much as 👀 at me wrong 🙄🥳

Django: So your mammy really will murder me if she sees this

Django: going to have to keep your clothes on at all times

Una: I’ll keep it to myself if you give me chlamydia, be for the best

Django: Don’t sound like you plan on keeping anything to yourself

Una: I said, there’s no time and it’s not the mood I’m in

Django: [the scandalous celeb inspo] I remember

Una: most of my clothes can stay on if you want

Django: what sort of person would I be if I exploited your rush for myself

Una: you’re trying so hard to make this sound like it’s against my will

Django: I’m just trying to separate what you actually want from what you think you have to fit in before you go

Una: racing the clock, I’d be doing it instead of having this convo, wouldn’t I? if nothing else bothered me and my singular motivation was ✔️

Django: It hasn’t come up before, that’s all

Una: I wasn’t taking the risk of fucking up us as friends before

Django: It wouldn’t

Django: it won’t

Una: you dunno it wouldn’t, when there wasn’t this 💣 doing it instead, nor did I

Django: I know, ‘cos it’s us and we’re the ones who’d get to decide

Una: yeah, okay, but I couldn’t just turn ‘round one day and ask if you wanted to sleep with me, out the blue

Django: If anyone would, it’s you

Una: my ego isn’t the size of your house

Django: I’d call you cute if I didn’t think you’d need a lie down after trying to fight me

Una: Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I hate you at the minute, boy

Django: Wanting to sleep with us lasting all of five minutes then

Una: if only, I’d swing for you and be over it, but it’s been ages, is what I’m saying to you

Django: You’re still wanting 🥺😳 I get it

Una: I wanna be honest, messing’s for people who get to live to be old and go on about their regrets in the pub, the one who got away or whatever

Django: I’m not messing and you can say whatever you like, I’ll not make you feel bad for it

Una: say something back

Django: you know I’m bad with words

Una: I feel I’ve backed you into a corner with all of mine

Django: I could say no, it’s not impossible

Una: you could say yes for the wrong reasons and I’d have to kill myself before cancer gets chance

Django: no, I won’t, I promise

Una: okay then

Django: it feels fucked for me to be thinking about, you know, considering

Una: I’m still here, alive, and the same person

Django: yeah, okay, well, I want to too

Una: cos we’re us, no pity, no ticking ⏱💣⏲

Django: That would be more fucked than just doing it for my own selfish gain, Jesus, no

Una: I’d have to kill you, which would be proper selfish, stealing my thunder

Django: Now you’ve got a monopoly on death

Una: can’t I have that much?

Django: 🏠💶🎩🐕🚗🚢🥾💶🏨

Una: get out of jail free ✔️ second prize in a beauty contest ✔️ it’s my birthday ✔️

Una: drs and hospital fees ❌ speeding fine ❌

Django: Where is your dad living now?

Una: [drop the location because I feel like he’s not in Dublin but he’s close enough you can still see him on weekends and shit when you want, but he’s also probably the kind of bitch who moves around more than your average bear, especially if that’s where you got your cool girl vibe from]

Django: the flat is a better location, like

Una: I’ll get in his ear about it 📢

Django: If there’s 1 thing you’re good at 🔊

Una: you flirt

Django: 😏 shut up

Una: time’s running out to start a screamo band, best sleep with me as I’ve no other talents, like

Django: Well, have you thought about where, if we’re being serious about it, like

Una: our Liam’ll be in the car with us so that’s out

Una: there’s no privacy at yours and ma’s playing warden at mine

Una: ask to view the flat? show Ali we’re serious about it too, she might leave us alone there for a bit?

Una: all else’s ❌ we go for my da’s place 🚊

Django: Oh, so you have thought about it then, loads

Django: she’d let us view it, that should work

Una: I thought of it then, when you asked me

Django: Uhuh 😚

Una: process of elimination, is all

Django: I’m not going to do it just anywhere, tah

Una: nor am I, as the one who’s at risk of ☣️🤒⚠️😷☢️

Django: Are there like

Django: extra precautions to take

Una: no balaclavas for this either, I’m putting my foot down

Django: Not going to be practical if you overheat and end up 🤒 that way

Una: and unless you’re gonna pay me, I’m not planning on a no kissing rule, have to take our chances 🦠🧫

Django: I don’t think I’ve got any germs, more than you

Una: romance really is dead if I anti-bac you from head to foot before

Una: I trust you not to actively try and kill me 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

Django: I don’t mind

Django: I mean, is it a weird request, sure but at least you’ve a valid reason I’m not left wondering over

Una: I mind, it’s not what I had in my head when thinking freak in the sheets

Django: I’d sort of mind if I killed you

Django: but okay, I’ll be thorough in the shower, think about it all you want

Una: I don’t want it memorable for that sort of reason

Una: but you’re on a better track with 🚿💭

Django: You’re not dropping down dead today

Django: if you want some time to plan it, so it can be all you want it to 💭

Una: we don’t need to plan, chemo’s the greatest contraceptive going

Django: is that how they sell it to people who are on the fence, like

Una: should be

Django: your ma would be thrilled

Una: I’m not about to tell her for the praise, you’ll have to give it me instead

Django: might take me a minute to not automatically take the piss but

Una: it’s okay, I’ve the identical urge whenever you open your mouth

Django: shame, that one works better the other way around

Una: are you after some time?

Django: 😏 I’ll be grand, tah

Una: alright, well, are you ever gonna get yourself here to me?

Django: as I can’t take full credit for your impatience, I’ll step on it

Una: you can take most of it, rest’s our Liam whinging on

Django: bit rude he’s not after hanging out

Una: does make us wonder what it’d take 😏

Django: if anyone knows what shite company you are, it’s me but you know, time and a place for face ache

Una: oh, nice, being ganged up on now as well as

Django: I’ll be nice to you when we’ve dropped him off at home

Una: believe it when I feel it

Django: you will

Una: I’ve it in writing, you best not let me down

Django: how many other lads do you plan on doing this with

Django: ‘cos I might have a few pointers on not piling on the pressure, lead to better results

Una: I wasn’t planning to write that ✔️❌ list

Una: let it go straight to your ego ➕ or the pressure get to you ➖

Django: oh

Django: 😁 proper special, like

Una: no comment

Django: I’ll start acting more worth that plan

Una: don’t start acting different, for the love of god

Django: don’t you want you know

Django: 💐🍫 romance

Una: the cancer isn’t in my brain, or caused a personality changing stroke like my nana had

Django: your Liam wishes

Una: by the sounds so do you

Django: only as a joke

Django: you know how it really is

Una: 🤡

Django: being serious about this would be a heavy place to start, wouldn’t it

Una: I know, but I’m not having the biggest laugh with this being how it came out I fancy you, it wasn’t how I wanted to do it

Django: what were your plan, out of interest

Una: it don’t matter, I can’t have another go, it’s out there now

Django: fine, I’ll tell you when I first noticed you like that, then you won’t be moody about it no more, deal?

Una: fine

Django: a little more enthusiasm, thank you

Una: FINE!!!

Django: You know in [whatever year you would feasibly have your first big growth spurt, idk] and [some dickhead lad] started everyone calling you [a lanky related nickname]?

Una: yeah, the memory comes back whenever I can’t sleep

Django: it’s mutual

Una: it all happened ages ago, why didn’t you say something?

Django: Probably because you were busy raging at [this boy]

Una: when I eventually calmed down then?

Django: Why is that what you’re taking away from it?

Una: why do you reckon? we could’ve had time together before it was running out

Django: we did still have that time together

Una: you know what I mean

Django: like you said, there’s nothing to fuck up now, that was ages ago

Django: it could’ve just been a fleeting thing

Una: I’m under pressure too, I’m gonna look and feel disgusting soon

Una: might give you new nightmares and reasons why you can’t sleep

Django: it’s hardly the only reason, if it was then maybe I’d get to be that shallow twat

Una: can you not give me a lad response and try and understand what I’m saying?

Django: right, sorry, try again

Una: if I wasn’t dying we’d both get to be shallow about it, it wouldn’t be a banned word

Django: okay, so, if you start looking disgusting, I’ll stop sleeping with you

Django: no bullshit

Una: I’m after no special treatment, stop anytime you want to, it don’t matter the reason, you’re not my hostage I’ve chained to the radiator

Django: I just promised I would

Una: double promise, it’s fucking important

Django: I promise I promise, alright

Django: but you have to believe me and not be a psycho thinking you know what I think when it’s really you

Una: okay, I promise not to overthink what you’re thinking

Django: Deal done then

Una: 💧🤝🩸

Una: but be warned if you ever call me a psycho again, I’ll show you one

Django: I’m familiar

Una: I’ve come a long way since [that dickhead boy at school]

Django: 😱😱😱 girl

Django: not surrounded by psycho girls or nothing

Una: says more about you than it does me

Django: oi, I can’t help being outnumbered in my own home

Django: not everyone gets it right with their first 2 go’s like your mam did

Una: I’ll pass it along when we’re back on speaking terms

Django: Soon as you’re dropped back then

Una: you’re not dropping me nowhere I’ve not okayed first

Django: not a cabbie

Una: and I’m not [the kind of parcel your mum would receive, I don’t know her life lol] you can’t be leaving me on her doorstep, I won’t get out your 🚕!

Django: Come on, you’ve gotta be nice to her

Una: I set foot in there I’ll never come out, she’d have me chained to a radiator on sight

Django: I doubt that’s doctor recommended

Una: I’ve got too much else to do to wrap myself in blankets and pray like she wants

Django: I didn’t say we were immediately headed in that direction

Una: what you said is you weren’t gonna tell me what to do

Django: I can’t feel sorry for her as well, no?

Una: by all means feel sorry for her instead of me, cos I’d rather die right here and right now than have you even imply you are

Django: I meant as well as not telling you what to do anyway

Django: her kid is dying

Una: yeah, I am

Django: you’ll be gone, you’ll not mind, she’s the one living with it, of course I feel bad for her

Una: I’m not gone yet, and I fucking mind she’s trying to control how the rest of my life’s spent

Django: I know

Una: you’re being too calm and rational, I need you to be furious with me

Django: I’m trying to be the person who keeps it together

Django: I’m not your mammy, your da, I don’t get to lose it

Una: it’s the time you get to lose it, you’re losing me

Django: you’ve not given me a second to fucking breathe never mind anything else

Una: take it, you’ve got the luxury, wasn’t you getting ambushed by drs this morning

Django: Jesus

Una: [not replying because giving him a second and being petty because teenage girl but that after a beat because teenage girl and can’t shut up]

Una: I haven’t energy to hold ma’s hand through this, same goes for yours, or any fucker else’s, call it callous or whatever

Una: I did the 😁 little miss sunshine craic last time I was sick, and where did it get us?

Django: I’m not asking you to

Una: you and her and everybody else will have time to get your head ‘round it when I’m dead, all I’ve got’s now and I’m already trying to pack years into months, knowing there’s still loads I won’t be able to do

Django: You know what you have to do, I’m not stopping you

Una: you’re guilt tripping me, as if I’m unaware how shite this is for my mammy off my own back

Django: I’m saying I’m not going to be a cunt to your mother about this, I’ve no right, you’ve every right to be entirely selfish about it, it’s the least you’re owed

Una: I’m not letting her stop me, that’s all there is to it

Django: Okay, I’ve heard you

Una: permission granted to turn your car ‘round and piss off if you fancy that more than coming this way

Django: Why?

Una: you’ve every reason

Django: I’m sorry I said that about your mum, I didn’t mean to guilt trip you

Una: believe me, there’s nothing I’d love more than to be wrapped up in her fantasy like it’s the warmest blanket going and get to be nice to her

Django: I’m sorry you’re dying

Django: I don’t know how else to say that

Una: there’s probably not loads of different ways to say it, in fairness

Django: It’s not fair, to anyone but most to you

Una: nah, it’s not, I dunno how else to say that either

Django: Ali knows a lot more about protests than me

Django: and dying, you should ask her

Una: she’s not my type, I’m sorry

Django: 😒 great craic

Una: I want you, and you said I’ve the green light on being selfish

Django: yeah, dunno why that means you’ve gotta have a shite sense of humour all of a sudden but

Una: I’m sorry, I’m having a day of it here, like

Django: better, that one was topical, like

Una: don’t turn your car ‘round or I’ll have to be all 🥺 about it and neither of us wants that, right?

Django: under the circumstances, I shan’t waste your time having you beg for it

Una: you can have me grateful for that

Django: I weren’t turning ‘round, by the way

Una: if I’ve any hope left I’m keeping it for that you don’t, even as a metaphor when it gets worse than this

Django: Oons

Una: forgetting my name isn’t doing much for the hope

Django: Laurel, sorry

Una: I know I’m not supposed to say anything close to don’t leave me before we’re even together but fucking do not, please

Django: I won’t, never

Una: there’s a million scenes from what feels like a million shite dying girl films playing over and over in my head and that’s nothing like how bad it’ll be, is it?

Django: okay I’ll tell you what to do by banning any rewatches of them, just this one thing

Una: our Liam’ll be after making his own, wait and see 📹

Una: can ✔️ fame off the list at least

Django: sound less 😁 at the prospect

Una: leading man’ll have you 😁 too

Django: see, knew you wanted Mr Darcy really

Una: I told you who I want

Django: I do wish I’d known sooner too

Una: I was gonna say something on your birthday, to avoid the not knowing what to get you pisstake which happens every year, since you asked what my original plan was

Django: Such a lass move

Django: I’d never get away with that, however many compliments I showered you in

Una: how would you have done better? go on, impress me with your what if scenario

Django: than wrapping myself in a bow? Easy

Django: I’d take you to [whoever are her faves]’s gig and then you’d be so 😍 I’d be well in

Una: I didn’t say I’d 🎀 you flirt

Una: a lad move, but it would’ve worked

Django: You better, keep telling you I’m not easy, like

Una: there’s still time for me to buy up all the ribbon in town

Django: s’not my birthday now

Una: I don’t care, every day can be your birthday now

Django: it’s not going to be bad, even sick girl movie cliche bad

Django: you’ll be 😁 whether you like it or not

Una: 😁🩸

Django: That’s what you get if you want me to stay, alright

Una: what do I get if I’m after 1 cliche and it’s you bringing 🍦?

Django: well, a longer wait whilst I figure out where between me and you has 🍦 but consider it done

Una: play the 🎶 as you drive up or I’ll send you off to try again

Django: I should get an ice cream van, you’re right

Una: everybody will reckon you’re selling gear

Django: I can just tell the disappointed smackheads you’re taking it all

Una: oh, nice, set the angry smackheads on me

Django: they’re hardly a threat, half comatose

Una: I’m not really fighting fit myself, boy

Django: the morphine will have you feeling it

Una: well, sure, but maybe we’ll aim for slightly more romance than me fighting off smackheads while you watch?

Django: I think I can manage that

Una: 🤞🤞 no pressure though

Django: I’m not totally incapable, I’d have to be actively disgusted by you to do that badly

Una: this is where I’d throw you a compliment if it was something I was used to

Django: yeah

Django: I can go without but if that’s what you wanna hear, I’ll 🔊

Una: fuck that, you’re not going without anything

Django: we’ll get used to it together then, I guess

Una: yeah

Django: you don’t have to speedrun the shit you don’t really feel or want to say though

Una: you think I’m selfish, and probably, but not enough to lie straight to your face

Django: not that you’d lie, don’t think you have to give me that though, just to play little miss sunshine one more time, okay?

Una: okay

Django: not going to start crying and you have to leave another room you can’t stand to be in

Una: she’s surely an uglier crier than you, how’s that for a compliment?

Django: I’m blushing

Una: believe it when I see it

Django: get ready then

Una: but you said you’d be ages!

Django: gotta have some chances to surprise you

Una: gonna melt my 🍦 being that hot about it, I’m not ready

Django: let your kid brother out the car before you lose it, yeah

Una: long as you mean randomly by the side of the road, then yeah

Django: so harsh 🤣

Una: did you bring him 🍦 as well?

Django: don’t take the piss, it’d be well rude if I didn’t

Una: am I not special to you? who’s taking the piss?

Django: I’ll show you that you are when you’re done with your 🍦 and we’re alone

Una: fucking hell, you can’t say that and not expect me to force our Liam to walk

Django: yes I can, a little anticipation won’t kill you

Una: it might, but I really hope it don’t

Django: Trust me

Una: fine, I’ll let him stay in the car under protest

Django: It won’t take long to drop him back, it’ll only feel it

Una: already feels it

Django: how does it feel?

Una: the lack of 🍦 is killing me

Una: where are you?

Django: [pull up]

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narrators-journal · 2 years

Text

Crushes are disgusting

Holy shit! At long last, I write something again lol. I am happy to report that I am out of my fandom burnout too! Now I’m just rusty and short on coherent ideas lol. But hey! That’s what asks are for lololol. For now, enjoy my silly little Akutagawa thought.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke was never one to grow attached to anyone on any sort of level. Outside of his sister, the goth had no real friends, in his opinion, and even found most of his co-workers varying degrees of annoying. So, when he met you at the grocery store one day, he wasn't the most polite of customers. Despite that though, you were rather friendly, but didn't push him into a conversation like a lot of other cashiers tended to do. It was nice. In fact, it was such a refreshing breath of minding-your-own-business, that Akutagawa admittedly chose your particular register over the others whenever he could on his visits to the store. And in each visit, you wouldn't say more than a happy little hello, and maybe asking how his day was going. No over-sharing, no forcing conversation, just a general polite greeting while you rung up his items before giving him his total and a wave of farewell when he left. Aku would rarely give a proper response to you, mostly just wanting to get his food and go home. However, he appreciated how you seemed to be able to gauge how talkative he was, and how you adjusted appropriately. On top of that, the simple, pleasant interaction he had with you was something of a bright spot on his darker days. You once even complimented the decorative cloth thing he wore at the collar of his shirt, which, weirdly enough, sent a little shot of warmth through him. So, after months of his visits and preference for your particular register, and your repeated kindness, Akutagawa decided to try maybe being more polite. "So," he said while you slid a loaf of bread over the price scanner and bagging it for him, "uh, how has your day been?" you snorted a bit, but grinned, "Eh, pretty average. I haven't had any customer's scream at me at least, so that's a highlight." the goth nodded at that, having heard from some of the mafia goons how hard retail work could be, "Do customers often yell at you?" He asked, fishing his wallet out of his coat pocket when you scanned the last of his shopping, Why the hell am I fumbling so badly with this? He asked himself with a mental huff of annoyance, I can hold a damned conversation, quit being so painfully pathetic. "I mean, not every day, but it's not exactly rare, y'know?" You said with a small laugh before reading off the money he owed and letting him leave without another word from him. The entire walk home after that, Akutagawa regretted having spoken. Apparently, his mood was evident enough for Gin to notice almost as soon as he'd walked into the apartment they shared. "Hey there Ryuu, are you okay?" She asked, coming into the kitchen to watch him put away the things he'd gotten, "I'm fine." "Really? You seem more frustrated than usual." She pointed out, getting a cold glare from the dark-haired man, "I made a fool of myself at the store." He admitted after a moment, ducking down to put some food in the fridge and avoid his sister's reaction, "How'd you do that?" She asked simply, pulling herself up onto the counter as she spoke, "I...tried to talk a bit with the cashier, and for some reason, I sounded super unnatural." He huffed and stood up, hitting the fridge door in frustration, "I know I don't speak to a lot of people, but I'm not some pathetic pre-teen. I shouldn't sound like one when I hold a polite conversation." Gin let him vent, waiting until Akutagawa slammed the fridge shut and put the bread and other non-refrigerated goods away before speaking again, "Well, do you like the person you tried to talk to?" That got her another glare, "It was just some cashier. They've been polite to me the past few times I've went, so I was just trying to be polite back." "Okay, but...do you like this cashier at all?" She asked again, and when he gave her a more confused look, rolled her dark eyes, "I mean, do you get upset when they're not around? Did talking to them make you feel weird and nervous for no reason?" Aku blinked at that, thinking back to the interaction again. Now that he wasn't living the moment, he could remember that his nerves did seem a bit more frazzled than usual. God that's so stupid. They're probably just a normal person, not a threat. He chided himself while Gin took his silence as an answer, "I'm going to assume that's a yes. So, maybe you came off so weirdly because you were flustered." She suggested, snapping Aku out of his thoughts to glare at her once more, "Why would I be flustered to talk to some cashier?!" Gin simply shrugged at that, hopping down and strolling out of the kitchen with a simple, "Maybe you've got a crush, Ryuu, I dunno." The goth's only response was to stab at her with a strand of his coat, missing by an intentional distance while his face began to burn, that heat increasing when she only giggled at his reaction. "I do not have a crush!" He yelled after her, but his sister didn't bother responding. At least, I don't think I do...

#Akutagawa Ryuunosuke #Akutagawa x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs #x reader #scenario #i tried my best

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yayeetsonny · 3 years

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Always Tell The Truth Part 2 ~ USWNT x Reader

Okay so if you haven’t read the first part of this, which I will put here. Always tell the truth part 1 I suggest you do that, otherwise this one will make no sense. Also sorry... again for being gone so long. I hope you guys didn’t miss me too much. :)

-N

Previously...

“Those bruises, Y/N, where’d you get them?”

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Fine then, don’t believe me. First Alex, then Christen and now you. This is just great, my teammates think I’m a liar. Well I’m not and I’m telling you the truth.”

I brushed by her and stormed out of the room, now determined to avoid my teammates so they’d stop asking questions and questioning my honesty.

“I’m not a liar. I don’t know where I got the bruises, I don’t know why they won’t believe me.”

Present

After I stormed out of the room I share with Ali I ran... yes literally ran out of the hotel and out into the street. Well okay it was more like the sidewalk but whatever, I’m going for dramatic story telling here. I was angry, hurt and confused as to why my teammates couldn’t just believe me. I’ve never lied to them before, not ever. If something was going on I would have told them. And I genuinely have no clue where these bruises came from, I don’t remember hurting myself badly in practices or games and I don’t do any other crazy activities that would warrant the sudden appearance of severe looking injuries. I knew I just needed to clear my head so I started walking in a random direction hoping to get my thoughts together.

After a while I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and knew it was probably one of my teammates looking for me so I ignored it. My phone stopped ringing only for a short time before it stared up again. This went on for several long minutes before it finally stopped. After each attempt from whoever was trying reach me there was a separate single vibrate indicating they left a message. I felt a little guilty for disappearing and probably worrying everyone but they shouldn’t have assumed or accused me of lying. Thinking they finally got the message that I didn’t want to speak to them I continued walking god knows where trying to think of what to say when I finally decided to go back. I was really deep in thought, trying to remember if and when I got the bruises. Obviously they don’t just appear like magic. They have to be caused by something, but... what? All the sudden I was hit with a vague memory

“Huh?... Wha- where am I?”

“You fell asleep on the couch dear. Don’t you remember? It was really adorable actually. My mom said super sweetly.

That’s weird, she’s never overly sweet with me, like ever.

“No, I don’t remember doing that.”

I looked around and the tv was on, which is also rare. It was playing a random comedy movie. Comedy? My parents don’t even like comedy movies.

“Oh well you did. Right after dinner, you dragged your feet over to the couch and was out like a light before we knew it.” She said casually.

My dad waltzed in like everything was totally normal. What the fuck is going on. Why don’t I even remember eating dinner? How long have I been here? Why does my body hurt so much?

I came back to the present feeling slightly uneasy. I remembered now a little bit of what happened when I got to my parents house and a little bit of what happened after I woke up from my nap. They managed to convince me everything was fine after that and I left assuming they were telling me the truth because I was too tired and too annoyed to argue. But the more I thought about it the more I wondered just how much of what they said is true. Why were there huge gaps in my time with them? And why do I get the feeling that the weird gut feeling I have isn’t a coincidence? I got lost in thought again but it was peaceful this time and quiet which I was relishing in.

Unfortunately the peace and quiet only lasted for a few minutes when I started to get what I assumed were dozens of texts. I finally got fed up and decided to silence my phone completely. When I unlocked it I saw a glimpse of some of the worried texts from the team. They all pretty much said the same thing;

“Y/N please come back. I’m sorry for saying I didn’t believe you. I’m just concerned about you. I want to talk and I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. Just please come back.”- Ali

“Hey kid, heard what happened. Wanna talk?”- T

“Y/n where are you? I heard what happened and that you left?? please come back, we’re worried.”- Christen

“Bruh what the hell? let’s talk?”- Ash

“where r u?”- Mal

“It’s not safe for you to be out by yourself. Ali told us about the other bruises. Whatever this is we’ll help you. We’re gonna start searching for you if you don’t get your ass back here soon. We love you.”- Alex

And it went on like that as every single member of the team texted me some variation of that and the voicemails they all left were much the same. I started to feel more guilty but let my anger keep me from replying to them. They can stew a little longer.

Meanwhile back at the Hotel...

CHRISTEN PRO//

“Okay, so tell us exactly what happened.”

“I saw the bruises when she was changing, which I happened to walk in on. I don’t think she was expecting me. I asked her what happened and she said that nothing had happened and I asked her about the bruises I saw on her arm, shoulder and spine and she continued to tell me she has no idea where they came from. I told her I didn’t believe her and then she got upset and she just... left.”

“Just like that? She didn’t say where she was going?”

“No, she was so angry she just stormed out and when I tried to follow after her she was already gone.”

“And she’s still not answering her phone. Damnit kid come on, where are you?”

“She’s not safe out there on her own, we have to go look for her.”

“And how are we supposed to find her when she doesn’t have her location on and is doing everything she can’t to ignore us?”

“I have no idea but we have to try.”

“We will, but we should give her a little more time. It’s possible she’s just around the corner cooling off. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

“You’re right.”

“Guys I hate to steer us back into more serious topics but shouldn’t we be talking about the bruises she has that started all of this?”

“What do you guys think they’re from?” Megan asked.

“I want to believe her when she says she doesn’t know but I mean how can you just not know about bruises as severe as those?” Ash said.

“I mean... I’ve had some pretty bad ones I don’t remember getting from anywhere.” Mal said off-handily.

I saw some of the rest of the team nod silently, indicating that they too had, had the same thing happen to them. And I had to admit that I had my fair share of bumps and bruises that I couldn’t explain because they just seemed to appear but I was still concerned for our youngest teammate as it was getting pretty late and it was already dark outside.

“Oh god, you don’t think it’s her parents do you?” Tobin asked no one in particular.

We all paused for a moment to process what she was implying and I know we were silently hoping, praying that they wouldn’t do that to her. That they wouldn’t beat their own child.

“No, there’s no way. She’s told us that they love and support her and that even though they aren’t around much they still care about her.”

“Right, you’re right.”

“It has to be them though, I mean there’s no other explanation. She didn’t have them before or after practice right?” Alex asked.

“No, she didn’t.” Lindsey said solemnly.

“Do you really think parents can just flip a switch? Just like that? Be caring and supportive one minute and violent then next?”

“It’s possible.”

“No, just don’t even go there. I refuse to believe they would do that.”

“We would have seen the bruises if she had them before, since we all change in the same locker room together for practices and games remember?” I said

“Fuck. When I get my hands on them I swear to god...”

She didn’t get to finish her sentence because Y/n walked into the dining hall where we were all gathered.

“Get your hands on who?” She asked quietly

“Kid...”

“Y/n holy shit, thank god.”

“And she lives!... not the time? Got it.”

“Y/N... we need to talk.”

“Why? There’s nothing to talk about. I don’t know what Ali told you, but I don’t know where these fucking bruises came from okay? I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know that probably isn’t what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me that’s fine but i’m not talking about it anymore.”

“Sweetie please just hear us out okay? We’re worried about you and getting defensive about them isn’t helping your case.” I said, trying to reach out for her but she backed away from me.

“Defensive? I’m just upset because you all still don’t seem to get it.”

“We want to get it, please just talk to us.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please just...”

“No! Okay, just no. I said we weren’t talking about it again and that’s final. What happened to “I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.” Huh, Ali? Good to know that was complete bullshit.”

“I’m sorry baby, please believe me, we just...”

“Oh believe you? For what? You clearly still don’t believe me so why should I give you that courtesy? You know what, this is all just fucking stupid anyways. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

And with that she disappeared up to the room she’s sharing with Ali. Leaving us all more confused and concerned than ever.

“Well... that went well.”

“Shut up Emily, so not the time.”

//End

Okay so yes that is yet another cliffhanger of sorts, I’m sorry but I thought that was a good place to end it. Just know that Y/N genuinely doesn’t remember a lot of what’s going on, just like she says. Her parents are definitely sus asf.

I’m actually writing part 3 rn so that should be up within the next day or so. I know I keep disappearing but my life is totally a mess rn lol. I’m back now tho and am excited to finally get to all the requests I have. Im so sorry for those waiting I haven’t forgotten. Promise.

-N

Not edited.

#uswnt imagines #uswnt #christen press #alex morgan #imagines #uswnt x reader #megan rapinoe #ashlyn harris #ali krieger #tobin heath #lindsey horan #emily sonnett #mal pugh #The rest of the team will appear #baby reader #USWNT

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thedistantdusk · 3 years

Text

Thanks to @jenoramaca @gryffindorhealer and @secretkeeper13 for the quick beta work!

A gift for my beloved @ginisbetterthanfirewhiskey.

CW: Language and domestic fluff

______

Trying

From the second he walks through the door, Harry can sense that something’s changed. It takes him thirty minutes to suss out why.

In retrospect, the smells coming from the kitchen probably tipped him off. Or maybe it was Ginny’s distracted hum, followed by the tinkling of plates and cutlery. Perhaps it was the fact that she prepared a full dinner, long before he even got home.

Nonetheless, he doesn’t worry about it too much as he greets her with a kiss, his hands cupping her chin. When he sits across from her at the table, there’s something furtive and curious lurking behind her eyes, but their meal is so peppered with normalcy that he doesn’t bring it up. They banter and laugh about Luna and Robards and wonder what they’ll bring to the Burrow on Sunday.

But when they’ve reached the stage of chasing stray noodles around their plates, Ginny finally clears her throat… and just like that, the nearly imperceptible shift he’d sensed earlier turns into something very perceptible, indeed. “Can I erm. Talk to you about something?”

He pauses, mid-bite, and takes her in. Her lip’s worried between her teeth, her hands fidgeting. Even her hair, normally strewn about her shoulders or parted to the side with a sort of effortless grace, is tied back and resting low at the base of her neck.

Ginny’s not normally this… serious. And he’d be lying to say it didn’t frighten him.

So he blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “Who died?”

There’s a half-second pause in which his chest clenches, his stomach churns. Could it be Molly? Or Arthur? George hasn’t been great either, not that—

But Ginny just reels back, confused… and it’s not until then that Harry realizes he’s really, really misread something.

“I… w-what?” she stammers, brow furrowing. She peers at him for a pained moment before her face relaxes into a look of understanding. “Oh. Oh! For fuck’s sake,” she mutters, rubbing her forehead. “I guess I’m thicker than usual, should’ve known you��d read it that way.”

Harry snorts. “Erm… darling, as many things as I legitimately don’t understand, I’m fairly sure this one isn’t on me.”

Ginny ignores this. “Did you seriously think that something dreadful happened and I’d just spring that on you in the middle of your bolognese?” Her lips twitch into a smirk. “Here’s some pasta. By the way, a fire burned a puppy orphanage to the ground. Could you pass the salt?”

He gives her a plain stare. Nice try. Years ago, he might’ve taken the bait and chased her down that rabbit hole. They might’ve had an hour-long, spirited debate on the existence of puppy-specific orphanages. But after three years of marriage, he knows better.

And she knows he knows.

Ginny finally draws a resigned breath. “No,” she says slowly. “No one died, ok? Or is even… I don’t know, sick or infirmed or threatened.” She waves her hand and continues babbling. “Last I checked, even Muriel’s still going strong, somehow. I’m jealous of that, you know— being old enough to just say whatever the fuck you’d like and have no one question it because—”

“—Ginny,” he cuts across on an exasperated sigh. “As chuffed as I am to chat about Muriel all night, I’d really like to know what’s bothering you. Please?”

There’s another pause as she bites her lip. Then, in one swift motion, she attempts to rise to her feet and push her chair in on her way over to him.

But somewhere along the way, something gets crossed— and Harry watches in bewildered horror as her foot catches on the leg of the chair. Then, right in front of his eyes, she lets out a startled gasp, her arms flailing, before she lands with a thump.

He’s out of his seat and on the floor beside her before he even realizes she’s cried out in pain and surprise. “Are you ok?” he demands, pushing her jeans up around her ankle… her tricky ankle, the one she hurt rather badly at the playoffs last month. Hm. It's a bit red.

Honestly, she hasn’t been this clumsy since she was 10 years old and near a butter dish. This does nothing to alleviate his fears that there’s something Very Wrong.”

“It’s not even my ankle that hurts,” Ginny grits, pushing up on her palms. “Wait— Harry, what are you—”

“Need to ask Gwenog,” he says urgently, running to the other side of the table for his wand. “She said that if anything happens to your ankle to tell her straight away, remember? Better safe than—”

She scoffs. “Seriously, Harry, I’m fine! I didn’t even land on my—”

He arches an eyebrow. “Have you suddenly forgotten the Puddlemere match? When your ankle broke clean through the skin?” Even now, the memory makes him shudder. “You heard Gwenog— without magic, you might not have walked again.”

“But there was magic,” she says, almost pleading. “And seriously, I’m fine!”

Harry finds he has limited patience for her heroics, though, while she’s sprawled out on the floor and nursing a bruise on her arse. “Gwenog’s instructions were quite clear,” he says firmly. “Having a pro athlete as a wife is a group task. It’s taxing on your body. I’ve got to make sure there’s enough of you left to enjoy our lives.”

Ginny clears her throat. “Erm… but what if you… haven’t actually got a pro athlete as a wife. Technically speaking.”

Harry swallows. He’s sure he’s heard her wrong. “What?”

With a wince, she adjusts herself against the wall. “I’m sorry… this isn’t how I’d planned to tell you. I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?”

Normally, Harry might press a bit harder. Normally he’d demand answers— and now. But as he peers at her on the floor, there’s something soft and uncertain behind her eyes… something timid. So he decides to do something he knows he’s good at— something she doesn’t let many other people do: take care of her.

With a sigh, he scoops her from the floor and brings her to the sofa. Then he props her against the pillows, putting her legs across his lap.

And he waits.

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, peering at her downcast face, before she finally says it in a rush.

“Iwanttohaveababy.”

It comes on a whisper. A breathed admission. He knows, just from her expression, that she��s never said it aloud.

But he must have misunderstood. There’s no way he’s not projecting, inserting the reality he wants instead. “Could you… could you repeat that?” he manages, his voice gruff and shaken.

Ginny just sits up straighter; her cheeks as red as her hair. “I want to have a baby,” she repeats, the confidence building with every word.

Oh. Looks like he was right after all.

Harry blinks at the carpet, his head spinning, mortified with the tears that have sprung, unbidden, to the corners of his eyes.

A baby. Their baby. A smile plays at his lips as he stares at her ankle in distracted bliss. He’s been ready for ages… longer than anyone he knows. It’s hard to remember a time when he didn’t want a family with her. When he didn’t want to watch her grow and change. To become more beautiful with every passing day until…

He swallows back another round of tears; he’d never forgive himself if he forced this… if he swayed her, in any way, despite what he wants so badly it squeezes his insides.

“But what about quidditch?” His voice cracks; he clears his throat to cover it. “Honestly Ginny, I’ll wait, as long as you’d like. We’re young. Think of what you’d deal with, loads of assumptions and press and comments.”

She turns to him with an arched brow. “And since when have I ever cared about comments? Since when have you cared about comments?”

He spreads his palms in resignation; it was a particularly weak argument. “I know. I just… don’t want to make your life more difficult.”

“Well...” She draws a deep breath and peers down at her nails. “I’ve erm. Actually quit the Harpies, all by myself.” Her cheeks begin to redden again. “I’ve already sent the owl and everything. Resigned. No intent to return next season.”

Oh.

That’s what she meant, then, about not being married to a professional athlete. Harry blinks a few more times as she plows through an explanation that could honestly be something from a dream.

“I’ve… I’ve just been thinking about it. A lot,” she adds, focus returning to her cuticles. “The Harpies are out for the rest of the season— that fucking Puddlemere match and that bullshit ref.” She glares at the pillow to her right. “Nothing like blind favoritism. Fucking prick should’ve been fired!”

All Harry can manage is a feeble chuckle, his hand moving to caress her knee. This time, he can’t bring himself to stop her spiral.

“Maybe it’s not just that match, though,” she admits, rubbing her ankle. “It’s also just… so much bloody work. I’ve been at it three whole seasons, you know? I’m a bit tired of missing birthdays. And family events. And only dreaming of bludgers and snitches. And attending the mandatory press interviews to avoid getting fined, and then giving polite answers to personal questions when I really just want to hex them, and—”

Harry laughs. “I think Sandra Richardson might disagree about the polite answers bit, darling.”

Ginny gives a dignified sniff and continues as if she hasn’t heard him. “Annnyway,” she says, toying with a piece of lint. “I… feel like I’m ready to move on. So.” Her face splits into a grin as she gestures to the corridor. “On with it.”

He clears his throat. “As much as I’d love to take you up on that, I’m confused about how this relates to quitting your job. You could’ve kept playing. Or—”

“—Why is it so hard to believe this is something I want?”

There’s a beat. He doesn’t have a good answer.

“What if I wanted to quit before I got pregnant?” she continues, her tone growing more demanding. “What if I was done with playing, regardless — and genuinely wanted to have children? Your children.”

She lets out an incredulous laugh, tossing her hands in the air. “I have to say, Harry, this feels an awful lot like you’re doubting what I actually want to fit a narrative of what you think I want.” Her eyes narrow again. “Is that really respecting my wishes?”

“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head. He’d never thought about it like that before… how it might be insulting, really, to question what she’s ready for. He laces their fingers together, feeling properly chastened. “I’m sorry. I never meant to… suggest you don’t know what you want. Or something.”

He hears the timid smile in her voice as she squeezes his hand back. “Do you still want a baby, then?” she asks. “Or are you just in it for the practice?”

A smile creeps across his face, his eyes still focused on her hands. “I… think you know the answer to that one.”

“Well, I’m not sure I do,” Ginny says flatly. “Because I just told someone who wants two million babies that I’m ready to carry his first child. Forgive me if I expected a bit more excited fanfare than acting like I drowned your kitten.”

“What’s with you and baby animals today?” he murmurs, inching her pant leg a bit higher.

“Wonder why I’ve got babies on the brain,” she quips, raising her eyebrows. “Maybe because I want one.”

Harry releases a resigned sigh. She’s clearly done playing. “Honestly…” He bites his lip. “If you’re sure that’s what you want, I’m obviously on board. Obviously.” His eyes flit to hers. “I just… I don’t want to be responsible for something you end up regretting.”

It’s the truth of the matter, really; the thing that tugs at him the hardest. The fear he’d ever burden her… the worry he’d ever make her less than happy.

Ginny gives him a small smile, her hand coming to cup his jaw. “I’m going to take that as a weird, sad Harry thing instead of an attempt to remove my womanly agency.” She narrows her eyes. “But that’s your final warning.”

Harry doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s on his feet in a split-second, gathering her into his arms with the stupidest grin he’s ever worn. Trying. Is that what they call this? Are they actually properly trying now?

“Get used to this,” she says as he strides into the bedroom. “Because once you knock me up— on purpose, mind— I’m going to request a lot more transportation.”

“I think I can live with that,” Harry murmurs against her lips, draping her across the bed.

And to avoid a well-deserved slap, he doesn’t say the final bit: As long as you can live with me.

#harry/ginny #harry/ginny fanfic #hinny #harry potter #harry and ginny

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unpretty · 3 years

Text

some more astielle asks between chapters because i'm taking too looooong (spoilers up to chapter 25)

anonymous asked:

FINALLY read astielle, and immediately insisted my friends read it as well - one of them had the best reactions: 9:59pm lmaooo minnow is like “mmmm him Big” and I am like “GIRL, HIM HUGE GET DOWN FROM THERE!!!” // 1:46am leonas is a DICK, what the HECK // 2:43am oh whoops I’m in love with Leonas

i feel like i answered this ask already but maybe i just typed up a response and never posted it??? anyway that's the appropriate response to leonas' initial appearance if you aren't fundamentally predisposed to see an imperious effete bastard and think "oh that's him, it's my boy"

anonymous asked:

after everything we know about leonas' life it made my heart warm when he said he was enjoying having himself to himself. proud of my boy for at least starting to figure out what he wants and how to ask for it. also minnow thinking naptime was dream class where kids learn how to dream!! utterly delightful detail!! its both so charming and also makes my heart hurt just a little bit i love it

anonymous asked:

"...his dreams would leak blood, but lately it’s been flowers." Is she classifying when he visits Karzarul as his dreams here, or is she saying that even when he's dreaming on his own there's more flowers and less blood?

could go either way!! (word of god/me is yeah even on his own)

anonymous asked:

So you're telling me the tombs are still there. Where their current incarnations could theoretically *visit* them. The angst potential!

@onceuponymous asked:

I've been so sure someone else would send an ask, but I haven't seen it in a dump yet, so: Karzarul? What's under your left glove?!

he does take his left glove off eventually! it's blank right now because it clears when he dies. he still prefers wearing his gloves out of habit now.

anonymous asked:

That Brutelings count as monsters with faces and also that they kill each other over minor disagreements to put each other in “timeout” is such a combination of facts. I keep imagining Karzarul waking up from a dead sleep in the middle of the night to a vision of Mittens and Tabby coming at each other with knives because Tabby said the toasties with the ham and cheese were the Best ones.

there was a long stretch where he just reabsorbed all brutelings immediately because they lost their 'existing long enough to kill each other' privileges

@ecoantics asked:

re: the new violet fanart, I'm just thinking about the fact that karzarul really did his classic "subconsciously make a new monster with my crush's face with body parts/aesthetics my crush likes" and STILL didn't admit to himself that he had a crush. like boy!! you've been alive for a THOUSAND YEARS. I feel like you should have some recognition of your own habits!! what a disaster lad. love him.

he has spent at least a thousand years not sorting out his life goals from his wife goals and he's not about to start now

@bramblepatch asked:

I've been rereading Astielle and god, Karzarul really just stopped experimenting with new forms for a thousand years to avoid the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, didn't he?

downsides to new monsters:

be known, mortified

indeterminate number of new people that are murderable

might turn out looking stupid+ugly

last time ended about as badly as it possibly could have

upsides to new monsters:

I'm Helping

@symbollalagy asked:

I wanted to ask if there was a inspo for the Shadowstalker monster cause all my brain is coming up with is like a black panther sized version of an Umbreon mixed with a final fantasy 10 coeurl…?

i don't think i had any specific inspo, i was just trying to hit all the rpg enemy tropes including 'that's just a big wolf' and 'that's just a regular animal but you taped another animal to it for some reason'

anonymous asked:

No spoilers I’m sure, but I bet Leland knew Elias. Like, personally. Not sure how, but I definitely feel like they talked

@realityphobia asked:

Also i just fucking bet when leland takes his gloves off its not just tiny suns hes got, but at least one star. Rip elias i feel like u may have deserved that one maybe

anonymous asked:

Leland: "I have perfectly sculpted my son to fit my own-self aggrandizement! Look at me, didn't I do a good job?" Minnow and Ari: "You ruined a perfectly good dom, is what you did. Look at him, he's got anxiety."

askjdhakjdhasjk

anonymous asked:

I know we're all waiting for the day that Karzarul rails Leonas, but consider: Leonas rails Karzarul

>;3c

anonymous asked:

Rereading earlier chapters of Astielle after Ch 25 and, "Leonas was sitting on the floor of his balcony. She didn’t usually see him on the balcony. From here he could see the city, all the way to the walls of Fort Astielle and out to the mountains and forest beyond." after "'She is the only reason I never jumped out a window,' Leonas said flatly. 'Anything else is a lie I told myself.'"...dude

#original #astielleblogging #writeblogging #astielle spoilers

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archonanqi · 3 years

Text

fragile as dust | 5 - culmination

🔖 [first] [prev] [next]

🔖 a/n - aaah some stuff finally starts going down in this chapter, thanks y'all for staying patient through the last four chapters. please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for updates! enjoy!

—

“Admittedly,” Zhongli sighed, “I may have gone a little overboard with the food.”

You both peered at the carnage leftover from your feast, the table strewn with at least half of the meal left.

“Are you full?” Zhongli inquired. He wasn’t smiling, but there was unmistakeable amusement in his voice. You nodded — a few minutes ago, you’d felt like you could have eaten everything on the table, but the physical limits of your stomach betrayed you. “Very well. Let’s clean up, then I will show you around the house. How does that sound?”

It still took you by surprise, each time he asked you for your opinion. “It sounds good, Mr. Zhongli.”

—

The first time you touched him was as he handed you one of the plates, as you thumbed over the intricate blue-white markings and felt your fingers brush. You didn’t know it then, but it would not be the last.

He was wearing his gloves, and so it was really leather that you’d touched, but it was electrifying all the same. You winced, searching his features for any displeasure. It was not your place to so much as gaze upon a noble of half his status without permission, let alone touch — you’d been taught that lesson, quickly and very early on.

“Please take this to the kitchen,” he requested, as though nothing had happened. You obeyed with slow, deliberate steps, squashing even any thoughts of dropping the fine china. Gingerly — how in Celestia was even the inside of his fridge elegant? — you set it down, closed the door and almost jumped out of your skin. He was standing right behind you, arms crossed as he studied you, features unreadable.

“Tell me a little about yourself, Hansi.”

Small talk? Or a test? Surely, certainly, he wasn’t genuinely curious? You felt naked under his probing gaze, still clad in that plain white dress. Had it really only been a day since you’d met Zhongli? Every second with him seemed to stretch over the length of a millennia. Instinctively, your hands wandered to your chest, feeling for your Vision. Wasn’t there. Wouldn’t help you even if it was.

I grew up in a shithole with a dozen other people. I stole, robbed, dredged myself through life, you imagined yourself saying to him, just to get sold to a nobleman who thinks I’m too stupid to understand his intentions.

By the way, three nights ago, Rex Lapis smoked up something real good and gave me a Geo Vision I don’t know how to use.

“There is nothing to know about me,” you said, instead, “save that I am bound to you in loyal servitude, and that I will do as you please, Mr. Zhongli.“

“Hm.” Zhongli hummed, a low echo. His golden gaze rend you through Then, rather abruptly, he said, “Let’s begin the house tour, shall we?”

Somehow, his curtness stung. Had you said something wrong? What you’d said — that was the textbook response you were meant to give, no? Regardless, you nodded your obedience, swallowing the fear you felt, as always, at his displeasure.

—

You almost expected there to be a dungeon of some sort hidden behind one of the doors, some skulls, maybe a poor chained up Hilichurl or two.

What you didn’t expect was so many rocks.

And paintings. And scrolls, and trinkets, and jewelry, arranged carefully upon display stands in each room. You remembered how cluttered the drawers were that you hid your Vision in. In the daylight, now that your mind wasn’t clouded with as much fear and fatigue, you were realizing just how much stuff Zhongli owned.

(Vaguely, it brought to mind images of dragons — the billowing, fire-breathing, treasure-hoarding creatures you’d read about in one of the many storybooks you’d stolen. You shook that image out of your head. Zhongli was plenty intimidating, even without a set of horns and fangs.)

“—and this is the bathroom,” Zhongli said, pushing open the door. The bathroom, on its own, was bigger than the shack you’d shared with four other families growing up. In the middle of the room, the dark marble floor gave way to a large, circular bathtub — it looked a little like a pool. “You are free to use it, and anything in it, whenever you’d like.”

The idea of a hot bath was heaven, but you were a hundred percent certain that your current state — dirt-caked fingernails and unkempt hair and all — was all that was keeping you safe. If you got nice and clean, who was to say what he would decide to do to you?

No, you would avoid taking a bath as long as you could.

Zhongli closed the door, and hesitated. “Hmm. There is less than I thought to show you,” he admitted. “These other rooms are simply full of items I’ve collected over the years, and I’m sure they would bore you.“

“It would be my pleasure to hear more about them,” you said, quickly. You wanted to keep him talking; as long as he was talking, he was doing nothing else. Besides, you found yourself growing more and more intrigued about Zhongli — only so that you could read him better, you promised yourself.

“Well, then far be it from me to deny you your pleasure,” he said. “What would you like to know more about?”

You glanced around, gaze landing on a small, glass standing display case. Two gemstones sat side by side in it, both a rich, translucent gold — like his eyes, you thought. “What are those?”

“Cor Lapis,” he said, and you heard a hint of something in his voice. Pride? “They were a gift, from someone close to me.”

“Are they worth a lot? They’re so pretty.” You bit your lip. They were probably worth more than the average Liyue merchant would ever earn. Pretty? Really?

“In terms of Mora, yes, they are worth no small amount,” Zhongli replied. “However, their value far surpasses material currency, for these are prime Cor Lapis samples from Mount Hulao.”

“Hulao... in Jueyun Karst?” You’d heard the rumors that floated between drunk fishermen and merchants, of the dangers of the mountain, of those who entered and came back changed. You had never put much stock in them — drunk men would say just about anything.

“Yes. And as I’m sure you know, Jueyun Karst is a dangerous place to venture into, without the proper precautions.”

“Dangerous… even for you?” You glanced at the Vision hanging off his waist. You couldn’t imagine a situation where Zhongli would ever be forced to break that collected facade of his.

“For any human.”

You found yourself enjoying the light conversation — you couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken to another person like this. “Who gave you these?” You tried to smile, and it came easier than you expected. “They must have been really nice, to give away something so expensive.”

Immediately, you regret opening your mouth. Zhongli’s eyes darkened, and his face fell visibly.

“Yes. She… was certainly very kind,” he said, quietly. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but didn't. Couldn’t.

Was? You wanted to kick yourself. Of course you’d manage to bring up his dead friend in your first real conversation with him. The next seconds of silence were almost unbearable. Finally, you spoke up with the first thing that popped into your head. “So, you like rocks?”

By the Archon, weren’t you on a roll today.

You were pleasantly baffled to hear him chuckle, a deep, throaty rumble from the depths of his chest. “Yes, one could say that I am fond of them.” He said, amidst soft laughter. “And you?”

“I don’t know much about them,” you admitted, “but the ones you have are beautiful, Mr. Zhongli.” So was his laugh.

“Is that so?” He asked, the previous conversation seemingly forgotten, as he strode over to a case across the room, “perhaps you will find these to your fancy as well — these pieces of Noctilucuous Jade were mined from the deepest mines of the Mingyun...“

—

By the time Zhongli had finished regaling you about his rock collection, the sky outside had become a smear of pink and orange, the sun drifting barely over the horizon. You hadn’t even noticed the time — Zhongli simply had the kind of voice that demanded wholehearted attention.

“I seem to have gotten carried away again,” Zhongli smiled. Was it just you, or were his smiles coming more frequently? “Thank you for being such a good listener, Hansi.”

You nodded in response, not quite sure what to say to that. The praise had a strange, warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“All that’s left of the house is the library upstairs,” he paused, the tacit question clear on his lips.

You froze. Ever since you started stealing to survive, you’d made a point to sell everything that couldn’t be eaten. Jewelry, hairpins, no matter how pretty, no matter how much your heart ached to put them on, went straight to the pawn store. But you could never sell books. You couldn’t bear to give up the worlds within them, the promises that one day you would be able to live as freely as the heroes of those stories.

So you stole. First from Wanwen bookstore, then when the owner learned to watch for your grubby hands, from bags and pockets and homes. You devoured them like hot meals, kept them under the floorboards of your corner, read them out loud to the kids who lived with you, read them till the dirt from your fingers had smeared the words to unrecognition.

You wanted to see Zhongli’s library, so badly that it hurt.

But to tell him this would be to admit to him that you’d stolen those books, that you taught yourself a skill that someone of your social class didn’t deserve to learn. Something you weren’t worthy of.

“I can’t read anyway,” you lied.

“I see,” Zhongli said. “Then, shall we go and get some dinner? Are you feeling well enough to make a trip to Liyue Harbor? I know the most splendid restaurant.”

—

You thought that things were going relatively well, that you were doing a fine job of squashing the unease and distrust of Zhongli that still gnawed at the corners of your mind. You were giddily excited, even, to be going to a restaurant for the first time.

So, as you two arrived at the outskirts of Liyue, close enough to hear the bustle of nightlife, you certainly weren’t expecting the sudden wave of emotions that knocked you clean off your feet.

It had started small — the unrelenting reminder of how out of place you would look at the restaurant. How out of place you would look in public, next to Zhongli in all his regality. Then: how out of place you truly were — how absurd of you to have started warming up to Zhongli when you knew, with every fiber of your being, what all men like him wanted; when you knew that one day he would grow impatient of waiting for you to offer it.

If you took his dinner, his food, his kindness, what would you begin to owe him?

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. The bile that rose through your throat was hot and bitter, and you doubled over and retched noisily into the nearest bush. Vaguely, you could hear Zhongli’s exclamation and his footsteps approaching, but you couldn’t stop until your stomach was empty once again.

You flinched violently at his light touch on your shoulder. “Hansi,” he said, and you were baffled at how genuine his concern sounded, “what happened? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, and it was true. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

“Please don’t apologize. Can you stand?” Zhongli asked, voice low and soothing. “Let’s get you home.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry I ruined dinner.”

“Nonsense, your health is infinitely more important.” He said. “Do you think that you can walk?”

Once again, you nodded. You let him lead you home.

—

When you reached the front door of the house, Zhongli’s hand on your shoulder firm and gentle, something had begun — deep in your heart — to fester. The fear, the confusion, the things that had fallen into place but didn’t quite fit together — it had all been boiling too long, too hot.

“Mr. Zhongli.” You said, as you stepped through the door, once again greeted by a warm gust of air.

“Yes, Hansi?” He asked, close behind. His hand on your shoulder was suddenly heavy, and hot. You shrugged it off, whipping around to stare him in the eyes.

“Please, just— do whatever you’re planning to do to me.” You said, knowing that if you lost your momentum now you would never get it back.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m not a child. We both know what I'm here for. When I lived on the streets, two pieces Mora would have earned any nobleman a night -- let alone... however much you’ve spent.” You were vaguely aware of how many lines you were crossing with each word, but there was no stopping the words flowing from your lips now. You could feel your heart thrashing against your chest, anger warming your bones.

“We both know that I have nowhere to run, no way to defend myself, so just DO it already. Be cruel, hit me, whatever, do your thing so that I can stop holding my Archon-damned breath and waiting for the inevitable. What exactly are your intentions with me, sir?”

You paused to catch your breath, and the horror set in suddenly. Your temper had always been the bane of your well-being — you just had to let it get the best of you, every time, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you have just bided your time and waited for his patience to run out later rather than sooner?

Zhongli stayed silent, face pulled into a frown as though he was pondering over your words. Time seemed to slow into a viscous fluid, drowning you in its wake. You glanced down the hallway at your room.

If he raised his hand against you, would you be able to make it to your room? Would you be able to grab your Geo Vision before he caught you, and would you even be able to use it against him, against the years of experience he’s had with his? You knew the answer to all of those questions: a resounding no.

Would he let you live if you apologized? You opened your mouth to beg.

“My intentions with you...” he said, brow pulled down over heavy lids. “Hm. It seems that I must apologize.”

You let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. For the umpteenth time since your meeting with Zhongli, you wondered: What?

“I have been trying to let you acclimate to your new life at your own pace, whilst moving on from your old.” Zhongli’s pursed lips were the only sign of discomfort in his composed features. “I did not know that such concerns were going through your head, though I should have seen that your seeming lack of fear was but a facade from your incredibly strong character.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw your hands trembling. You tried to get them to stop. They would not.

Zhongli swept on. “The circumstances of our meeting are... unfortunate. In time, you will understand my intentions in orchestrating our meeting, but for now -- you have been put in a very uncomfortable situation. I am remiss for not having acknowledged this much earlier.”

What?

Zhongli cleared his throat. “Hansi, please listen to me. While you are under my roof, I will never lift a finger to cause you any harm, physically or otherwise. And for as long as you are a part of my household, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are never again touched by hunger, frost, hardship. That you will never be subject to the kind of fear that’s making you tremble,” he reached out slowly and took your hand, “like this.”

He had done all the speaking, but it was you who had lost the breath from your lungs. Each of his words was a low rumble, earthquakes in their own right. You didn’t know if you believed him, but you so badly, badly wanted to, with every inch of your shaking body.

“I do not expect you to believe me, right now,” he said, as though reading your mind. He let go of your hand, and it fell back to your side, still shaking. “However, you will soon come to learn that I never break my word.”

You were beginning to see why Rex Lapis had chosen to grace this man with a Vision. He commanded — no, demanded — your attention, your respect, your trust, your entire being. There was more to him than the rich, lonely nobleman he seemed to be; in that moment, you had never been more sure of it.

“Is there anything else you would like to ask me, Hansi?” Zhongli asked.

You shook your head, mutely. There were a lot of things you wanted to say to that, but the swollen words stuck in your throat. “Thank you, Mr. Zhongli,” you said, and hoped he heard everything behind it.

Tomorrow morning, you supposed, it’d be alright if you had that bath.

#zhongli #zhongli fanfic #Zhongli fanfiction #Zhongli genshin #genshin #genshin fanfic #Zhongli x reader #fragile as dust #anqi writes #my writing #this is solidly toeing the boundaries of self indulgence/projection #but I hope y'all like it anyway ;;

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hairycooterlips69 · 4 years

Text

Service with a Smile

Howdy y’all, I had a wild hair up my ass to write a fanfic. It’s my first one, be gentle 😅 I’m obsessed with Hawks so I hope I do him proud. Also I was gonna name it Kentucky Fried Fuckin but i don’t wanna be ganked by the Colonel so... Takami Keigo x Fem!Reader

word count : 4k

[ (nsfw 18+) ]

Warnings: edging, fingering, soft dom/sub, oral sex, nipple play, anal play, choking, unprotected sex

yuhh, get into it~

_______________________________________________

Tonight’s shift couldn’t get any worse.

As you glance at your watch, you internally groan after realizing that you had been on your feet for the last 8 hours stuck behind a cash register. Between some brat spilling juice not once, but twice, on the floor you mopped, a woman berating you for not having any more barbeque sauce, and your closing partner quitting the night before, you were at your wit’s end. Working at a fried chicken shop wasn’t the most glamourous place of employment, but it paid the bills and your quirk did come in handy. Your empathic quirk allowed you to ease the negative emotions of others with the cost of others’ emotions somewhat rubbing off on you. While customers left satisfied and in good spirits, most nights you were left feeling exhausted and impatient. Well at least there’s only 5 minutes until close, you contemplate, mentally preparing yourself to clean and lock up the store.

Lost in thoughts, you hear a soft jingling and the thudding of boots against the tiled floor. “Heyo~, are you guys still open?” The first thing you notice about this customer is his ruby-red wings. Upon further inspection, you see that he is wearing a black body suit, beige pants, and a fur-trimmed coat accessorized with protective glasses and headgear, along with some pompous, feathery hairstyle. You felt as if this person was familiar. I mean, how could you not recognize a guy with massive birdlike appendages? You must have seen him somewhere, maybe around the city or at a bar. Or maybe you’ve seen him at the park, or maybe at the –

“Uh, hello. Earth to Y/N. Sorry for coming in so late, but I’ve been patrolling the area tonight and it seemed like this place was still open. I get pretty hungry around this time. Will you be able to serve me?” You snap back to reality, your cheeks tinged in embarrassment. “How do you know my name? D-do I know you?” you stammer. “Well, I read your nametag. But if you want to get to know me, you most certainly can, kid.” he quipped cheekily. What an ass. Your embarrassment quickly turned into annoyance, but you swallowed your pride and politely responded “yes sir, we are still open. How can I help you?” “Sir? I like that. Well, you can start me off with a four-piece meal and a soda, and after I’m done eating you can help me by giving me your number.” You audibly gasp, astounded at the audacity of this honey-haired jerk. Without a word, you quickly turned on your heels to put together the combo and get away from this man.

He must have noticed how upset you were as you placed his food on the counter rather abruptly. His expression softened from a cocky grin to a repentant half-smile. “I apologize if I’ve offended you. It’s just that I get pretty bored protecting the city and lurking on top of buildings. It’s nice to have some human contact, even if it’s teasing the cutie working at a fried chicken shop.” If you weren’t already flustered before, your face blushed crimson red yet again. Without the arrogance, you notice that this stranger was cherubically handsome, donning bushy blonde eyebrows, golden, catlike eyes, and the beginnings of scruffy facial hair. He must have been around your age or maybe a couple years older. You could tell that he was in almost, if not completely, perfect physical shape by the way his body suit hugged his chest. You hated to admit it, but his flirting was actually coaxing you out of your previously terrible mood. You manually willed yourself to reply, retorting “yeah, well don’t vigilantes like you have anything better to do than harassing a stranger while at work?” “Ouch, kid. A vigilante? Try number-two Pro Hero. I guess that’s what I get for coming in so late and giving you a tough time. I go by Hawks, but the name is Takami Keigo. But, I prefer if you call me yours for the evening.” At this point you couldn’t help but laugh at his boldness. After catching your breath, you responded “Alright Big Bird, enjoy your meal. Just please don’t leave too much of a mess, I already have to wait for you to finish so I can clean up and get the hell out of here.” For a split second, you saw his face twitch in an unreadable manner before his switching back to seasoned professionality. “Ah, of course. I won’t be too long. Thank you again y/n for the food. I’m sure it will be delicious.”

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the table and sat down, wings folding flat to his back as he prepared to dig in. You watched him as he removed his gloves, finger by finger. You couldn’t help but notice how long and graceful they were. Carefully, he teared apart slivers of each piece of chicken before bringing the greasy bits to his mouth. As he prepared his food, he would often glance up at you only to avoid your eyes and look back down at his food. What was with those looks he keeps giving me? It was almost like I angered him, or got offended by what I said, you mused to yourself. I’ll just activate my quirk. That way if he’s pissed, I can smooth things over. I don’t need to be bitched at by the manager again. With slight concentration, you activated your quirk. Suddenly you could feel what he felt – hunger. Besides this, there was another feeling. Similar to hunger, combined with a dull, growing ache. It almost felt like – yearning? Or something more? Once realizing the feeling, you quickly ducked your head. This bastard was aroused! You felt conflicted. He must be feeling confused by what I said to him, but also… I think he enjoyed it? You begin to feel a warming sensation in your midsection. Damnit, I think he is aroused. I’m starting to feel it too. Why would a Pro Hero be interested in someone who’s been covered in grease and sweat all day? You start to feel a little self-conscious at this point. There was no way that he couldn’t smell all the herbs and spices permeating off your overworked body. I smell like the deep fryer and I’m starting to thirst over some big-shot hero. I need to distract myself. “Hey, Hawks? If it’s alright with you, I’m gonna start cleaning up a bit.”

Hawks barely glanced at you as he responded “sure kid, do what you need to do. Don’t stop on my account.” You grabbed a rag and started to wipe down the tables with practiced ease. You closed on most nights and were able to get the store tidied up within 30 minutes or so. This night was different though, and you were somewhat nervous doing your nightly tasks as Hawks observed your work. When your back was turned, you could still sense eyes on you along with the steadily growing ache emitting from the Pro Hero and your own growing desire welling from within your body. Shit, the fact that he’s turned on right now is insane. I guess it is a compliment, he’s hot as hell. I actually kind of like it, you admitted to yourself. This realization combined with your quirk stirred up your own desire of being touched, and the growing warmth of arousal spread through your body like a slow burn. The more you attempted to distract yourself by sweeping the floor and wiping down tables, the deeper this yearning grew. Your watch indicated that it was definitely past the time you normally locked up and left. Fuck, I’m super turned on. What’s with him? And what’s up with me? You decide that you would quash this feeling right then and there. “Hey Hawks, are you okay? Cuz it’s getting late and I-“

As you turned around, you saw the Pro Hero had been standing a few feet behind you, wings fluttering rhythmically to the beat of his pulse. “You know, no one’s ever insulted me like that before and yeah, kid, it was cute, but it was also incredibly rude.” Before you could react, Hawks reached up and grazed the left side of your face with his right hand. “Now, how are you going to make it up to me?”

“I, uh- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just-“

“Just what?”

“I can feel you. I mean, I can feel what you feel, that’s my quirk and obviously you didn’t know that but I’m sensing that you’re-“

“You can sense how I feel, at this moment? Tell me, kid. Let’s see how accurate that quirk of yours is.”

“Well, um… earlier after I called you Big Bird and I got a vibe that you were annoyed but also intrigued? Also, uh – when you were eating and I was cleaning up, I kind of got the feeling that you were interested… in that way.”

“’That way?’ And what way would that be?”

You could tell that Hawks took pleasure in watching you squirm and shade brighter than his pinions. “That way. You know, an… intimate sort of feeling.”

You flinched, expecting Hawks to jerk his hand away from you and walk off in disgust. Instead, a sly, borderline wicked grin began to spread across his face. “Now that’s an impressive quirk. What if I told you that you were correct in that I am turned on by you? In fact, the more I watch you, the more I want to touch every single part of your body and own that delicious ass of yours.” He stepped closer, inches away from you, and began to trail his hand from your cheek down to the nape of your neck. You barely registered Hawks’ wings spreading out and almost immersing the two of you. “You can feel what I feel, right? So that can only mean that you want me almost as badly as I want you. If you let me, I’ll be more than happy to satisfy us both.” Hawks must have misread the look of disbelief slapped across your face. He backtracked, “Was that too far, kid?”

“N-no. Keep going. I want this.”

You had barely finished your sentence when the pro hero lunged forward, pushing his lips against your own with the urgency of a rabid animal. You quickly returned his kiss with equal hunger, pressing back against the soft, inviting landscape of his mouth. Lip-locked and frenzied, you felt him slowly run his hands down the side of your body and onto your hips, grasping them so intensely you felt his nails dig into your skin sending small shocks of pleasure directly to your core. You unconsciously leaned your hips toward, your body responding to the sensation building within your intimacy. You felt the pressure of Hawks’ reciprocating excitement against your leg as he moaned at the growing constraint between his manhood and his uniform.

“Y/n, are you sure you’re up for this? Because I can’t hold back much longer. I would cut my wings off just to flip you onto that counter and ram the shit out of you until you beg me to stop making you cum.”

“Hawks-“

“Call me Keigo, fuck. Call me Keigo, I want to hear you scream my name at the top of your lungs.”

“Keigo, shut the hell up and do what you said. Please just fuck me already.”

He practically flung you across the store, wrapping you up in a tight, muscular embrace with his vibrant, elongated wings beating erratically. Hawks placed you on the counter rather gently, attaching himself to your mouth again. You could feel his tongue softly graze your bottom lip in an attempt to explore you. Ever so slightly, your lips parted to meet his tongue in a battle for dominance. Hawks eventually overpowered you, and you could slightly taste the remnants of his meal as he ran his tongue vertically against the sinew of your cheeks. While Hawks commanded your mouth, you used your knee to tease and stimulate his aching member, pre-cum threatening to bleed through his pants. “Hrrnh, y/n. My cock is practically begging for you,” he groaned. You responded, “for someone who wants to fuck me senseless, you sure are taking your sweet ass time.”

Charged by your smart remark, he pulled away from your lips to focus on his next mission: undressing you before you could even open your mouth to land some other sarcastic comment. With surprising dexterity, he peeled off your shirt and pants while you worked on unclasping your bra. Keigo paused to admire your bare chest. “God y/n, as if you weren’t already looking like a five-course meal. I just might have to devour you until there’s nothing left.” Before you could come up with another response, Hawks enveloped his eager mouth to your right nipple while reaching to attend to your left bud. He began to suck rhythmically as if attuned to your wildly beating heart, lazily switching from massaging your left nipple between his graceful fingers to rubbing it in a clockwise fashion. You groaned animalistically into his ear, clenching your vaginal muscles and grinding your heat against the corner of the counter in desperation.

“Keigo, stop fucking teasing me. Please do something, you’re driving me crazy.”

Obliging, Hawks abandoned your left nipple to pull your drenched panties to one side of your private area. “Jeez, kid, you’re practically drooling down there. I wonder how wet for me you’ll get once I stick my fingers inside that pretty pussy.” Something about the snarky comment sent you over the edge. It was as if something inside your brain snapped, and the need to control this bird-brained asshole overtook you. Oh, I’m gonna give this fucker a show, you mused. You grabbed Keigo’s wrist and shoved it directly inside your clenched hole, violently abusing his fingers akin to a human dildo to escalate your pleasure. Hawks’ mouth practically dropped to the floor, his gaze shifting frantically from you using him as your fuck toy to the canvas of your naked body.

“Holy fuck, kid. That’s so goddamn hot. You really are such a slut, fucking yourself with my own hand. God, y/n. I want to be inside you so fucking bad.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” you huffed. “Now take off your clothes while you watch me play with myself.”

You grabbed his wrist again to remove his fingers, replacing them with your own to appease the gnawing desire. “Don’t look away from me, Keigo. Make direct eye contact, or I’ll kick your ass out of here with nothing but a pulsating cock and a hope for a wet dream about me.” Hawks quickly stripped down to his boxers, awaiting eagerly for your next demand. You could see the evident staining where the fabric was constricting his shaft. “Such an obedient pigeon,” you purred. “Now stroke your cock slowly like the good little bird boy you are.” His right hand began to slip down the band of his tightening boxers. “Ah-ah-ah, I said to take off your clothes. I didn’t say you could take it out and touch it. Now I’ll allow you to jerk it outside of your boxers.”

“Fuck, kid. Who the hell are you talking to like that? I don’t like that bratty ass attitude you have. I may just have to sh-”

You interrupted his monologue to jump off the counter and engulf his clothed manhood as deeply as your throat would allow. Even as it threatened to touch the back of your esophagus, you could see that you weren’t able to completely fill it with your mouth. You worked quickly to moisten his stiff cock. He moaned and grabbed the base of your head as you proceeded to bob back and forth, driving him insane by your refusal to let him be in charge.

“You filthy whore. If you’re gonna suck me off at least do it properly.” Hawks was growing feral with desire to feel your slobbery mouth on the skin of his member. “I guess you have been a good birdie. Here, I’ll make this easier for you.” You removed him from your mouth long enough to yank down his underwear and return to his massive source of heat. You grabbed Keigo’s cockhead and placed it strategically between your lips, outlining the contours of your mouth and using his wetness as a lipliner. “Fuuuck, you are so good, so good to me baby bird,” he whimpered pathetically before taking him inside your mouth once again. You continued to pleasure him with an absurd amount of oral pressure and saliva which began to leak out the corners of your lips. After a couple minutes of sucking him off, you felt him start to quiver. “Ungh, y/n. I’m about to cum.”

You immediately pulled away. There was no way in hell Hawks was going to come in the store and take up your time without getting you off. “It’s my turn now Keigo. You talked all that shit and now I want to see what you can do. I doubt you’ll be able to get me to cum.” As you planned, this lit a fire under Takami’s ass to drill you harder than an army sergeant. Without a word, Hawks yanked you up from the roots of your hair, shredded off your panties, and proceeded to flip you on top of the counter with your dripping cunt exposed in the air.

“You’ll regret you said that. You’re about to sing my name until your pussy screams and it’ll be music to my ears. I’m gonna make you my dirty little songbird bitch.”

Your heart was racing as you were sprawled out on the counter, your most intimate parts displayed for Hawks’ viewing. You began to turn your head to face him when you felt a strong grip on the base of your scalp again. “I didn’t say you could look at me. Now turn back around or I’ll leave you with a sopping cunt and a hope for a wet dream,” Hawks mimicked. You regretted being so saucy with him before; he now had the upper hand but at the same time, you felt a wicked delight at what was in store. You could feel him tracing the outer folds of your womanhood meticulously and painfully slow before sliding upwards to reach the sensitive skin on your asshole. You involuntarily twitched as he touched this spot, not used to this area being so vulnerable. “It looks like I found your weak spot, baby bird. I think it’s time to show you what happens to bratty bitches who talk so impolitely to me.” You heard a soft whoosh from behind you, similar to a sailing dart. You gasped in shock as you felt the tip of a feather tickling your rim as two fingers began to penetrate the saturation built up in your twinging cunt. Hawks continued this assault as he began to fist his own member using the slick he swiped from your saturated hole, picking up speed to pump synchronously with his digits. “Shit, y/n. I can’t hold out much longer, your slutty pussy is soaking my hand. I want to feel how wet you are. Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fill you with my cum?”

“Keigo, PLEASE! Please fuck me, I can’t take this anymore, ahh-. I’m begging you, I want you to stuff me with your fat cock.”

Hawks countered your begging by shoving his length into your sopping cavern. You cried out with a mixture of surprise and pain as he began to pump into you with determination. You could feel your walls clamp down on his manhood as he massaged your insides. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but to moan, your mind succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure you felt in your overheating pussy. Hawks felt like absolute nirvana, reaching parts of you that had not been touched in a very long time. He continued his strides in an exaggerated manner, ensuring that you felt every single inch of him from the base all the way to his engorged cockhead. Your wails of satisfaction began to match the reverberation of Keigo’s swollen balls slapping against your perineum, applauding the unification of two strangers and their primitive needs. “I told you, baby bird. I knew my cock would drive you insane. Who’s your owner now? Tell me, huh? I want you to say it, to scream it at the top of your lungs. Who’s fucking up this tight cunt, yeah? Who’s filling this slutty little hole of yours, songbird?”

“You are, Keigo, fuck. Fuck the shit out of me, please. Keep ramming my pussy, baby. I’m you-” He cut off your anguished whines by shoving his fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste your own slick mixed with the flavors of his earlier meal. “Y/N, you sure are talkative for someone who can barely handle a cock inside her. Is papa bird too big for you to handle?”

“Hu-hrd-rr!”

“What was that, filthy girl? You’re mumbling.”

Hawks began to hammer into you, his breathing becoming ragged; the way you took such brutal pounding threatened to buckle his knees. He took his fingers out of your mouth so you could scream “I said, HARDER, you bastard!” You couldn’t help but to whine as he continued to fill your ears with lewd comments and grunts, his rhythm beginning to slightly falter with each clench as he fought to reach your cervix. You attempted to regain regularity in your breathing to no avail.

“Aah, aah, fuck Keigo. This is your pussy, don’t stop. Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Shit baby bird, you’re so fucking tight it hurts. Fuck, I’m gonna fill you with all my seed. You’re gonna be begging for my cock from now on out and I’ll make sure to give it to you every night. Now cum for me, baby. Sing me a song, songbird. I wanna hear you fucking say whose cock is claiming your pussy!” The screech you let out was inhumane, your legs shaking savagely as a deep, almost painful orgasm rippled from your center. The lilt of your voice sent Hawks into a frenzy, his thrusts becoming unstable and jolting as he moaned your name. You saw Hawks’ eyes begin to glaze over and saw your opportunity to attack. You turned to reach for his throat and pressed firmly with your thumb and index finger with just enough pressure to surprise him, cutting him off mid-groan. “Awhk, f-feels sh-so good. Almost th-there.” You wrapped your legs around Takami’s hips and squeezed as tightly as possible, leaving the pro hero no choice but to release himself inside you, hips bucking as his load emptied in rivets.

“Ahh shit, y/n. I meant to pull out. I should’ve asked you first.” He sighed as he slowly removed himself from you. You both watched his fatigued member leave your orifice covered in the combination of juices. “Well normally when people order food here, they don’t end up balls deep in me so…” you retorted. Hawks chuckled, a dash of pink beginning to spread on his cheeks. “Well pro heroes don’t normally meet such gorgeous and smart-ass chicks working at fried chicken shops.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. You weren’t immune to his charm, and you were wondering what just transpired. Hawks searched for a clean towel and began to wipe you off, erasing evidence of the night’s events. “I guess I’ll see you around then,” you offered as you both began to redress yourselves. You hoped deeply you would see him again someday, even if it was just to order food. Hawks planted a soft kiss on your cheek, then asked “when’s your next day off, y/n?” You sighed lightly, “I actually have the next day off. Thank All Might, I’m exhausted.”

Hawks smiled, ruffled your hair, and replied “hope you’re not too exhausted. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to take you out on a proper date. I know this great little place that sells the best chicken.”

#hawks smut #my hero academia hawks #pro hero hawks #hawks x female #keigo takami #takami #takami keigo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #pro hero #fanfic #bnha x female reader #mha x female reader

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ibijau · 4 years

Note

Hi I hope you are well! in Worse engagement AU, does NHS ever find out about LXC getting longer-lasting incense, or LQR intentionally failing him his first year in Cloud Recesses? Poor NHS just can't catch a break, and I love the angst

Worst engagement AU

He does! And I may or may not have pushed myself to write nhs failing his year just because of how badly I wanted to write this, ahah.

Set soon after they get married :D

warning for... I guess he’s having a panic attack of sorts?

Unpacking is a terrible chore, worse in some ways than the packing that preceded it, but at least Nie Huaisang gets some help from his...

His face heats up. It's going to take a while to get used to the fact that they're married. It's only been a few days, and half the time it doesn't feel real. Which is the entire reason why Lan Xichen insisted that Nie Huaisang unpacked his things so they could put everything in its proper place and turn the Hanshi into something that's home for both of them. Even more than Nie Huaisang, it's obvious that Lan Xichen can't believe he gets to have this. It shows in the way he looks at Nie Huaisang when he enters the room where he's working, always half surprised to see him there. It shows also in the way he clings to him at night, as if Nie Huaisang might disappear otherwise, or run away, or do whatever other insane thing Lan Xichen might be imagining.

“What are those?” Lan Xichen asks, having opened a chest and found it full of various papers.

Nie Huaisang abandons the books he was trying to organise and comes to sit next to his husband, a little closer than necessary perhaps, but he knows Lan Xichen will appreciate it.

“This... Ah, it's a bit of everything,” Nie Huaisang admits. “Things I’ve done for fun these last few years. Most of it is bad poetry. Some of it about you, actually.”

“Did you?”

“I got very creative with insults at one point. I made Jin... I made someone read them, he found them very funny. Jiang Cheng saw them too, but he made a fuss about me being rude.”

Lan Xichen's smile freezes into that very annoying, very polite expression he has when he's unhappy about something. They usually avoid talking about Jin Zixuan, really, but Nie Huaisang was so taken by nostalgia for a moment that he half forgot. Besides, the poems really were funny.

Still, Nie Huaisang takes pity on Lan Xichen, and quickly digs into the chest to find something that will let him change the conversation. There's some half finished paintings, some calligraphy attempts, even notes from his time as a student and...

“Oh, right, I kept that,” he mutters, grabbing a neat little stack of paper. “That's probably good for a laugh.”

“Poems?”

“Even worse,” Nie Huaisang chuckles. “It's that exam I failed, my first year in the Cloud Recesses. I really thought I'd done great, you know? Well, maybe not great, but decently at least. Heavens, sometimes kids are so stupid they can't even see how stupid they are.”

Lan Xichen tenses next to him, and rather than to laugh along, throws him a concerned look.

“You kept that? Why?”

Nie Huaisang shrugs, grinning, and looks over the failed test. It always just felt like an important reminder that he’d never manage to play by the rules of others. A good chunk of the paper is unreadable because Lan Qiren had crossed over those wrong answers, but suddenly Nie Huaisang feels curious to see if he'd figure out how he got it so wrong.

“May I see?” Lan Xichen asks, his tone almost too careful, as if he fears he might offend.

“Sure, why not,” Nie Huaisang replies, handing him the papers and turning his attention back to the chest. “You know, I think I have a few portraits of you somewhere in there. Let me just find them, I think one at least is pretty good.”

While Lan Xichen deciphers the physical incarnation of all of his failures, Nie Huaisang continues digging into the chest. He does find a few portraits, but not the one he wants. These are doodles of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, and this he must get rid of discreetly because it's Jin Zixuan, smiling, so Lan Xichen won't like it, and this... well that's a painting of Lan Xichen alright, but he doesn't know how his husband might feel about, ah, imaginative depicting of what Nie Huaisang had once thought their married life might become. Besides, aside from the faces, everything was copied from one of his artful books, so it hardly counts as his own work. And this...

“Huaisang, are you sure this is the test you took back then?” Lan Xichen asks in a strange voice.

“It's not something I'd forget, is it?” Nie Huaisang replies with more bitterness than intended.

He half regrets it when he looks at Lan Xichen. Nie Huaisang almost can't figure what sort of an expression is on his husband's face except that it's an intense, rarely seen one.

Then it hits him.

Lan Xichen is furious.

“If you're having second thoughts because you're realising that I'm really an idiot after all...” Nie Huaisang starts, an old, half forgotten rage and terror already welling in his guts.

“Huaisang, I wouldn't have passed that test.”

Nie Huaisang stares. It's all he can do, when nothing makes sense.

"And I'm not saying I would have failed it when I was the age you were," Lan Xichen continues, blind to Nie Huaisang’s growing panic, his hands clenched on the papers, nearly tearing them apart. "As I am today I would probably not pass this test. The questions are made to look simple and to have easy answers, but they are actually on complicated subjects that only a scholar would know.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Nie Huaisang mumbles, fear still curling in his chest, though a little less tight now. Lan Xichen is angry, but not at him.

Possibly for him.

But it makes no sense, none of this makes sense, because if his exam was really this hard and tricky, then…

“Uncle set you up for failure,” Lan Xichen states, almost a hiss.

Nie Huaisang stares.

This is. This is important. This changes. It just. It changes everything. It should make him angry, and it should make him happy. It should make him feel something, but instead he’s just numb.

It changes everything.

It changes too much.

Nie Huaisang doesn’t even know how to start unpacking everything this discovery means. It’s too much, it’s all at once, it’s the very basis of everything he’s done and felt those last few years being shaken on its foundations so badly that it threatens to crumble.

He can’t breathe.

He can’t think, he can’t breathe, because it’s too much, it’s too much, it’s too much, it’s…

He feels hands on his and that grounds him. One of the hands move to his face, wiping tears he hadn’t realised started flowing down his cheeks, just as he doesn’t know when he closed his eyes. He opens them when a gentle, worried voice calls his name.

“Huaisang,” Lan Xichen whispers. “Huaisang, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know.”

Nie Huaisang nods, trying to remember how to breathe. He doesn’t doubt that Lan Xichen didn’t know. Neither of them wanted to be forced to spend time together at that time, Lan Xichen wouldn’t have played along if he’d known, not even for his uncle.

But this is still…

“I didn’t fail,” Nie Huaisang manages to gasp. “I didn’t fail.”

“You didn’t.”

“I’m not stupid.”

He hears Lan Xichen make a noise almost like a wounded animal, feels himself being pulled into a tight hug that he doesn’t, cannot resist.

It’s not.

It’s not that he actually thinks he’s stupid. Nie Huaisang has learned, has accepted, that he’s quite smart, in his own way. He’s good at reading people, and at becoming friends with them, and he knows about literature and poetry and art and, and he’s nearly as good as Jiang Cheng for mixing patterns, and he understands animals and how to tame them. Nie Huaisang is clever, and he’s forced everyone who matters to see how clever he can be, but he knows what some people still say.

Even now, there are some who think that Lan Xichen should be pitied for their marriage. He’s heard them say that Nie Mingjue should have released his sworn brother from that ridiculous engagement, now that there are no Wens left to justify the need for an alliance. That a man as brilliant and respected as the mighty Zewu-Jun deserves a better spouse than that kid who somehow managed to fail when studying in the Cloud Recesses, something nearly unheard of.

But he’s not stupid.

He didn’t fail.

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Lan Xichen whispers against the top of his head, fierce and sincere in a way that Nie Huaisang doesn’t know how to handle. This, also, is too much, but in a way that hurts less. “I will go talk to Uncle. He owes you an apology.”

It’s almost funny. The idea that Lan Qiren might have to say sorry to Nie Huaisang…

Not so long ago, he would have said that it was impossible. He would have suspected that Lan Xichen would never dare confront his uncle, least of all on Nie Huaisang’s behalf. But now, if Lan Xichen says he will obtain an apology for him, his husband believes that he’ll really fight tooth and nail to get it. He’ll probably still fail, because that’s Lan Qiren and he isn’t one to admit mistakes, least of all when he can argue that things turned out fine for Nie Huaisang, but it doesn’t matter. The apology doesn’t matter. What does matter is knowing Lan Xichen is on his side, and the fact that he didn’t actually fail.

“Don’t go now,” Nie Huaisang demands, pressing himself closer to his husband. “I want… stay with me for now? I don’t care, I really don’t care, just stay with me.”

“Anything you want, my love. I wouldn’t have gone until you felt better, don’t worry.”

Nie Huaisang sighs, and closes his eyes again. He’s breathing easier now, the worst of the shock has passed. Later he’ll feel angry, he suspects. Furious even.

Later.

For now he is at relative peace, in his husband’s arms, loved and protected and seen, the way he always wanted to be, even back when he was a child too shy to dare want anything.

The rest doesn’t matter not really, not when he’s proven his worth in spite of what others say, but…

He didn’t fail, and an old wound he didn’t know he still carried stops itching.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #worst engagement au #yes lxc will have to fucking work hard to get nhs to like him but still #it soothes my soul to write them happy here and there #jau writes #that was a lot of writing today but work really sucked and I needed something GOOD ok?#Anonymous

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wtnrscap · 4 years

Text

Cursed Words- Freight Car

Pairings- Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Bruce Banner, mentions of past Natasha Romanoff x Clint Barton, mentions of past Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes.

Summary- Bucky begs a favour as the last week of treatment approaches. Steve offers you advise and the words become no more.

Warnings- (18+) Mentions of blood, death, injury detail, PTSD, panic and anxiety attacks. Swearing, fluff. Dirty talk, dirty fantasies. Eventual smut.

A/N- Accidentally brought past Stucky into this. Yes, it’s a lousy way to get the freight car in there. Offically, this is the last chapter but there’s also a smut epilogue to come and then, although it may be badly written, you’ll see the effects of reading fanfiction for 5 years. I am opening a permanent taglist for future fanfictions as well as putting writing on hold to sort out my masterlists. This will all be done when this series over, so don’t worry yet.

Also, look out for the Infinity War line! Taglist is open. Prompts list is here.

Cursed Words Masterlist

A small smile brightens your face as Steve reads the last word slowly. A few seconds later and Bucky produces a shaky thumbs-up. You sigh in relief, “Did that just happen? Did with just have a successful run?”

Steve nods his head and you squeal, jumping into his arms, hugging him tightly. Bruce releases the door as Tony pats you on the shoulder, “Which means the last stage of the treatment has arrived.”

“Reassociation...” the four of you say simultaneously. A brief silence. Slowly, you turn back to Steve as Bucky staggers out of the cell, “Guess you’d better pick some really strong memories, Cap. Ready to go, Bucky?”

Bucky nods his head. When you got back off the holiday, he’d insisted on walking himself out the cell. Something about building up strength and resistance. You hadn’t really been listening due to the fact he’d been parading around the military uniform again, trying it on for size. Or so he claimed. It wasn’t like the dreamy look you’d had on your face had gone unnoticed.

The cast had been off for 3 weeks and although Helen had told you to take things easy, you’d been wondering when you and Bucky would have sex. He’d said as soon as your leg was free but then changed his plan. He wanted the treatment to be completely finished. Which left you extremely sexually frustrated. Especially when he walked around in those stupidly tight shirts.

“Doll, you with me?” Bucky voice jolts you and you smile, clasping his hand and making your way back to his room, which, frankly, was more yours now.

“How are you feeling?” you ask as Bucky climbs out of the shower and you close the floor-length drapes. He shrugs and pulls on a grey shirt, the short hair falling across his forehead. When he’d had the long hair, hiding his eyes has been his defence mechanism but he couldn’t hide from you any longer. You sign, walking over to him and brushing the hair away, “You look tired.”

“I am almost 100, Y/N...”

“Really? What’s your secret?”

Bucky chuckles and you smile, sitting cross-legged on the bed, “What do you wanna watch? I really wanna finish the Harry Potter films so we can start Fantastic Beasts and--”

“Can I ask you something?” interrupts Bucky, his eyes no longer meeting yours. Immediately you can tell that something is wrong. A metal hand touches yours, “Please?”

“Yeah... yeah, of course. Anything...” a smile to hide the worry. He’d never know.

Bucky bites his lips slightly and you cup his cheek with your hand, “Stop overthinking. We’ve been together a few months. I trust you. Just ask me already.”

“Okay... Um... You know we have to do the reassociation bit?”

“Yes...”

“Well... I don’t want Steve to do it...”

“Bucky, who else is going to do it? You don’t have powerful memories with anyone else and--”

“You.”

Your mind goes blank, “What?”

“I want you to do it. We’ve known each other for a few years and have been dating a few months. My memories with you are so powerful. I daresay more powerful than the ones I have with Steve. Please. Can you do this one thing for me? As a favour?”

To you, it feels as though the world has stopped turning. How could he ask you to do something like this? Did he really think you’d just agree?

You shake your head, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Baby... Come on... I need this...”

You stand and go to the window your heart pounding. At his words, you snap your head around to stare at him in disbelief, tears slipping down your cheeks, “DON’T YOU DARE ‘BABY’ ME! I don’t care if you need this, Buck. What if it didn’t work, or went wrong? It would be my fault! I can’t do this for you! I’m sorry. Steve has already said yes, and you should be grateful for it!”

He stands too, arms outreaching, “Okay... Okay... I’m sorry. I want you to do this. I trust you completely. I know you won’t mess it up, but if you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. I urge you to sleep on it, but it’s your call, I promise. Just come back to bed, please.”

Admitting defeat, you slip back beneath the covers and Bucky turns the bedside lamp off, his arms slipping around you, “I love you, Y/N...”

“I love you too, Buck. I’m sorry I can’t be enough. I’m sorry I can’t be what you want.”

“You are more than enough, more than I deserve. You are all I want...”

Tony and Bruce allow Bucky a few weeks rest, letting memories be made and giving his mind a chance to reset. Bucky lapped up the relaxation. Weeks of electrifying torture and yet he still seemed to wear a bright smile.

You, on the other hand, were not happy. Bucky continued to ask you say the words for him. He’d ask on Monday, you’d say no and he’d ask again on Wednesday. The days were counting down till the last week of treatment and Bucky could no longer he wasn’t worried. He was getting desperate. So he went to the one other person he could rely on.

“Steve, please! I need you to convince her!” Bucky cries and Steve sighs, putting his head in his hands, “Why can’t you?”

“I’ve tried and now she’s starting to avoid me! And you’re her best friend and we both know that there is a big difference between friends and lovers!”

Steve flushes, remembering the summer of 1935 and the time he spent with Bucky. There was no going back to that relationship, but neither Steve nor Bucky had regretted it, as it had helped to develop them as people. He sighs again, “Okay, okay, I’ll talk to her.”

“Thank you!”

You sit on the roof watching the sun go down. It’s crazy to you that just a few months ago you had your first date with Bucky here. So much had happened since then. You sigh, fingering the dog tags, the last of the sun rays dancing across your face. A voice calls out to you, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Steve sits next to you on the ledge and you lean into him, nodding your head, “Yeah. I like it up here. Gives me a chance to think.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Bucky asked me to read the words.”

“Yeah, he told me about that. Apparently, you said no. Wanted me to do it.”

You nod your head, but it’s halfhearted. Steve notices, “Oh, you’re actually considering it.”

“I’ve had time to think about it...” you mutter. Steve smiles, “No. You know it has to be you. The memories I have with Bucky are powerful but you are his lover, and there is a difference between lovers and best friends. You know that as well as me.”

“Steve...” you look up at him with big eyes, “I want to help, I really do... But what if it goes wrong?”

“Want to know something interesting?” asks Steve, “I spoke to Tony and Bruce, and they said it doesn’t matter who does it because both our memories with Bucky are powerful enough. However, if I do the job, then that chances are, we’ will have to do it again. If you do it, we will only have to do it once. Do you understand?”

You nod your head as a peaceful silence descends on the two of you. You’ve had a few weeks to think about it and now, you know you’ve made your mind up.

“Steve, if I do this... You have to promise me a few things.”

“Anything.”

“If I can’t finish it, then promise me you’ll take over.”

“Done.”

“You have to let me use you in the association.”

“Done.”

“And finally, let me hold your hand. Let me squeeze it really tight and just be near me. Because I don’t think I can do this by myself.”

Steve stares you with his huge blue orbs and clasps your hand in his, “I promise. Absolutely.”

“Thank you, Steve, that means a lot...” you lean your head on Steve’s shoulder, enjoying what feels like your last night of sanity.

The lab is swathed in sunlight, but you sit in the darkest corner, away from Tony, and Bruce and Steve. You watch the cameras as the clasps tighten around Bucky’s wrists and ankles and the door closes with a snap, the locks clicking into place. Tony and Bruce mutter to each other as Steve watches you apprehensively as you hold the damp towel to your burning hand. You’ve just had the worst morning.

Bucky was overjoyed that you were going to read the words, and decided to pamper you all night long. Long baths and cuddles, lingering kisses and whispers of sweet nothings to reassure you, but come morning and you had 3 panic attacks.

One in the bathroom, sobbing quietly, trying not to wake Bucky. You thought you’d had it under control till you’d hit the floor. Bucky had woken and rushed to your side, carried you back to bed and comforted you.

The second one had been in the kitchen. Your hand had been shaking as you made coffee, trying to wake yourself up. You could feel all eyes on you as the pot brewed and when you poured some int a mug, the pot slipped, burning your hand bright red. With a scream, you ran from the room and began to cry, the pain triggering the panic attack. Steve and Natasha had followed you and comforted you through that one.

The third one had happened on the way to the lab. You’d tried to stay calm despite the aftershocks of the previous attacks still hitting you. Your tongue felt woolly in your mouth and your heart rate had sped up. Both Bucky and Steve could hear your heartrate and managed to shove you into a conference room before you broke down again. Once your breathing was regulated, you thanked your boys, giving Steve a gentle kiss on the cheek and Bucky a kiss on the lips.

“Are you ready?” Steve offers you his hand and you take it, squeezing it tightly. Steve rolls your chair to the camera and the mic, “That’s it... Squeeze my hand as tightly as you want. I’m a supersoldier, I can take it.”

“Until I crush your fingers...” you mutter which makes Steve laugh. The lights in the vibranium room dim and Bucky’s shaky voice comes through the speakers, “Ready when you are. Don’t worry, Y/N... You could never hurt me...”

“Really? How are you feeling right now?” you counter nervously and Bucky chuckles. Bruce turns around to look at Tony, “Are we good to go, Tony?”

“Ready when Y/N is!”

You glance at Steve and he nods his head, his fingers now squeezing yours. Tony and Bruce smile encouragingly at you and you turn back to the camera, looking at Bucky. He looks directly in the camera, “You asked me what I was feeling? It’s not what, it’s who. I feel you... I just feel you...”

“James Buchanan Barnes, when I first met you, you were cold and unsocial, but immediately, I was longing to know you. We both have such twisted pasts and I knew, despite that, your rusted heart was secretly golden. You’re a big softie. At seventeen you had your first love, our own dear Stevie... You shared a kiss at daybreak, do you remember that day? I bet it was beautiful. When I met you, you made me feel like a furnace, my whole face was on fire with embarrassment. I tripped over in front of you and you roared with laughter. Ever since that day, I tried to make you blush back, My record was nine times. I tried to be benign because you deserved a little kindness and love in your life. Do you remember when I told you about homecoming? You made me feel so loved and so protected, a feeling so foreign to me. When we went to that cabin, and we sat in front of the fire with hot drinks and smiles, I knew then. You were the one for me. You hit me like a freight car, and I wasn’t expecting it. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you, James Buchanan Barnes...”

Bucky grunts and growls, his arms twitching, sweating profusely. As soon as you’re done, he looks at the camera, “Steve! Read the words! Read the goddamn words!”

Steve leaps forward, “Longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car! Soldier?”

Bucky screams, his arms straining to get out of the clasps. You throw your hands over your ears, falling to the ground, another panic attack coming. You begin to mutter to yourself, “It didn’t work... It didn’t work... It didn’t work...”

The whole room is plunged into darkness and Tony swears, “I think we just overpowered the grid...”

Steve is yelling your name, Bruce and Tony are arguing, everything is dark and cold and then... silence.

A voice rings out through the speakers, chilling you to the bone.

“I will never fucking comply again.”

Taglist:

@indecisivedolly

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 3 years

Text

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 78: Conversations and Revelations

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

Katsumi was absolutely not tired. And she was definitely not worn out and exhausted from pushing her body and her Quirk all day. She was definitely not spent from using her explosive Quirk on bigger and bigger objects, infusing the liquid she generated into greater and greater objects. And she really wasn’t already sick of Windbag and his high and mighty friends from his fancy-pants Hero school. She absolutely wasn’t going to end up beating the shit out of the muscle girl by the end of things.

Which, for some reason, Izzy had tried to warn her off of doing. Izzy was typically very direct and this had been no exception. She’d been extremely explicit that Katsumi stood a very good chance of getting her ass beat if she tried to fight her. Of course, Izzy had couched it in slightly politer terms, worrying that she might get hurt and emphasizing the damage to her pride if she lost. Izzy, of course, had expressed every confidence in her abilities, but still didn’t want her to get hurt.

Even with Izzy’s direction suggestion that she not fight the Shiketsu girl, there was something more going on there. Katsumi didn’t like that, not at all. And Izzy hadn’t been more forthcoming beyond that.

It wasn’t damn frustrating, not at all.

As if she’d ever lose a fight. Not counting her hard-fought loss against Izzy during the Sports Festival. Which wasn’t going to happen the next time. The bigger they were, the harder they were going to fall.

At least her old man seemed happy. Dad was always happy when he was yelling at people, and he’d gotten to do a lot of that today. Apparently, he’d even lit into Toshi for being predictable and unimaginative with his Quirk. Good. It was about time someone tried pounding some sense into his green-haired head. The guy was a damn good fighter when he put his mind to it, but there was considerable distance in how he fought with his Quirk and without it.

“Okay people,” she heard Katsuma—Bioshock, she had think of him and Mahoro by their Hero names when they were in teacher mode—call out. “You’ve all had a long day and tomorrow’s going to be even longer. You’ll be rising at 0500 and we’re going to be spending the whole day putting you through your paces.”

“And we aren’t going to listen to any whining about you being tired!” Mahoro—Vanish Veil—added. “So if you’re sluggish, it’ll be your own damn fault!”

Bioshock sighed. “Thank you for that,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

“But she is right! You’ve got twenty minutes before lights out. Make the most of them, then get a good night’s rest! Sleep is vital to a growing body!”

“Stop talking like a health class video! Why are you such a dork?!”

Katsumi just shook her head, getting up to head to the barracks. A voice from behind stopped her.

“Pardon me, but you and I have unfinished business.”

***

She’d been expecting, maybe even anticipating, a confrontation with Tatsuma, the overgrown Shiketsu girl. So Katsumi hadn’t strictly been paying attention to who the voice had belonged to. When she spun to face her attacker, her punch went high. A good blow to the face or throat would disable most people very quickly.

In fact, if she hadn't been so sure Tatsuma was going to be the one picking a fight, she'd have registered that the voice came from about a foot lower. As things were, her blow sailed right over Monoma’s head. She’d given him a little credit though. He only barely flinched.

A smug grin spread across his lips. “Quite the hair trigger you’ve got there, Kirishima-Bakugo,” he said. He eyed the extended arm as if to say, “Really?” She let it fall to her side, then crossed her arms.

“You want something, Monoma?” she asked. Of all the things she needed today, he was way down on the list. He’d mostly been leaving her alone lately, but his audible smugness was more than making up for it. “I’ve probably got enough time to deliver an ass-kicking if that’s what you’re looking for.”

He chuckled at that, gesturing dramatically. "Oh I'll happily offer you the chance to try," he commented with a smirk, "but I don't think this is the time. I do want to make time for your gauntlet throwing, though, at some point in the near future.”

“Delayed ass-kicking, got it,” she said. She cracked her knuckles noisily in a show of intimidation. This time, to his credit, he didn’t flinch.

He frowned, eyes narrowing as his shoulders relaxed. “Look… May I speak plainly?”

She narrowed her own eyes, setting her mouth in a hard line. “Get on with it.”

“I was… very broken, after the Sports Festival,” he told her. There was an earnestness in his eyes that surprised her. A raw level of emotion she hadn’t expected of him. “I wanted to succeed so badly, to show you that I was worthy and to show the world that my class was worthy. But I screwed it all up. I focused too much on showboating and spectacle. Midoriya and the rest of your class… you had it figured out.”

He looked down. “I gave as good an accounting of myself as could be expected against Kocho. It was simply a bad match-up for my skillset. And I am glad to see the Hero course recognized her abilities.”

Monoma pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes flickering downward and flashing a shade of displeasure before he continued. “And then there was my failed confession. I’m not sorry I did that—don’thitme—and I think you may have said some things I needed to hear, although your delivery may need some work. And then, during my Internship with your father and Uncle Tetsutetsu… I froze up when the Nomu attacked. My Quirk isn't something I can turn off, and... Everything I was seeing of the creature was just so profoundly wrong that I couldn't take it. I shut down. I had to be carried away by Shoji, like a child.”

Okay, that one she hadn’t heard about. Papa definitely hadn’t mentioned it. Of course, gossip about anyone like that wouldn’t have been manly, so it was not a surprise.

“And from there, I just fell apart,” Monoma said. He wasn’t looking at her now. Instead, he was looking into the distance. “I can admit that now. I was certain I had a weak, worthless Quirk and that I had no place in the Hero course.”

“Now wait just a damn minute,” she snapped, pointing aggressively at him. “You’re a bastard, but your fancy pants flippy Quirk is still useful. No reason you couldn’t kick a moderate amount of ass.”

Dammit, she was not feeling sorry for the Copycat Bastard. But she remembered her own Internship, how useless she’d felt watching that man die right in front of her, while her Quirk, even her muscles, couldn’t do anything… Aunt Ochaco and Izzy had talked her back from that edge. She didn’t think about it too often. Hadn’t had the nightmares in a while.

“I’ve come around to that line of thinking,” Monoma said. “But I appreciate the vote of confidence. Especially from you. But I was ready to quit after the Final Exam. Just long enough not to leave my class in the lurch. But Midoriya said some things about success and helping each other that stuck with me. And we passed.”

He stopped, actually smiling and looking more than a little proud. She’d give him some credit. If 1-B’s exam had been anywhere near as challenging as theirs—and Kana assured her it was—then he deserved a little pride.

“And then for reasons I’m still not entirely sure I understand, I ended up speaking with Kaminari and she got me looking at my Quirk in a bit of a different way. Trying to string my moves together better, weaving a whole song out of them, rather than single shots to be fired and discarded. So I stayed.”

“Is that why you’ve been making goo-goo eyes at her?”

He sputtered, turning red and avoiding her gaze. “I thought we were being more discreet than that.”

“Oh, please. Your dramatic ass wouldn’t know discreet if it bit it,” she told him. She tapped her wrist, as though checking a watch, giving him a glare. He got the hint.

“Regardless of mine and Kaminari’s situation,” he said, quickly, as though eager to move away from discussing it, “I want you to know I still want to prove myself against you. Not for any romantic pursuits anymore or even in some attempt to prove I’m better than you.”

Monoma shook his head. “I want to prove I’m your equal. That I deserve my place here. You’re one of the fiercest, most skilled fighters in our school. We’ve had an adversarial relationship since we were big enough for you to put me in a headlock. You’re the mark I need to challenge myself against.”

Okay. She definitely hadn’t been expecting that. But for all she could erupt at a moment’s notice, Katsumi could occasionally control her expressions enough not to show surprise. She knew she was tough and talented, but hearing him admit it, not in some kind of lovey-dovey star-eyed sort of way, but in actual respect, with none of his usual barbs, well, to say it was a surprise was putting it mildly.

“So, what do you actually want?” she demanded. “Get to the point already.”

Monoma looked her straight in the eye, a steely determination there she hadn’t seen before. “When the camp is over, when we’re back at school, I want to fight a match against you. A true test against one another. Bring whatever support items you like, and, as the challenged, the right to choose time and place is yours. I'll make the arrangements with our respective homeroom teachers that it will be a sanctioned training exercise. May the better person win."

It was a more respectful challenge than she would have expected out of him, all things considered. It looked like Monoma had found his spine after all. And besides, she could go for bouncing him around the ring like a basketball for a few rounds. “You know what, Monoma?” she said. “You’re on.”

***

Akaya had the distinct impression that she was being watched. Not maliciously, she didn’t think. She certainly didn’t feel like she was threatened, but she was also fairly certain that someone was paying more attention to her than usual. Over in one corner of the room, she could see Kaminari, Mika, and Anime whispering together in a fashion that seemed almost conspiratorial.

Her opinion of the matter did not improve when she saw Ojiro go over and join the group. But even with counting several of the girls among that group as dear friends, she certain, somehow, that they were discussing her. She wasn’t completely unused to being talked about behind her back, the girl with the strange religion and stone-skin, but she would not have expected it of her friends.

“They’re talking about you.”

Akaya looked over to her left, where Chiasa Kamakiri, her vaguely mantis-like friend from 1-B, was standing by her bunk. Chiasa held up a hand, showing that she was missing two joints from her smallest finger on her left hand. Her Quirk allowed her to split apart her body segments and transform them into tiny duplicates of herself that shared a hive mind. Very useful for espionage.

Chiasa’s face split into a grin. “Do you want to know what they’re saying?” she asked, playfully.

“I do not traffic in gossip,” Akaya said simply, though she was also feeling a little hurt. Why were her friends talking about her? She didn’t think they had any ill intent, but…

Chiasa continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “They’re trying to set you up with Aoyama!” She giggled with delight, clapping her hands.

Ah, of course. Their usual romantic pursuits. She wasn’t surprised, especially now that Ojiro was involved. The invisible girl was nothing if not committed to the idea of “shipping” people she knew. It had only become worse since she and Anime had become friends. Still, she hadn’t thought that Mika particularly liked Aoyama, so why was she…

Wait.

Akaya mentally replayed that sentence again.

“What?”

Chiasa nodded rapidly. “Mineta is leading the pack. Sounds like it might be her idea. They haven’t noticed my mini-me’s yet.”

She was clearly missing something here. Akaya frowned in confusion. “I must have heard you wrong.”

“Nope,” Chiasa said. “They’re gonna set you and Aoyama up. They don’t have a plan yet. Fukidashi and Ojiro are fighting over which tropes to use. Mineta’s encouraging all of it. Kaminari is telling them they’re all insane.”

None of this made any sense. Aoyama had certainly never displayed any kind of interest in her. Oh, of course, he did seem far more civil with her than almost any of their other classmates. And he never had any cross words for her like he did for almost anyone else. So what if he always made an effort to speak to her? What difference did it make that he always seemed to respect her opinion, even if he didn’t listen to anyone else? And, of course, he had reacted more violently than everyone else when he’d found out she’d been the target of Quirk discrimination…

But certainly none of that meant he was interested in her! Not when he was traditionally good looking, prettier than even some of the other girls, and could have easily had his pick of anyone, if he’d just let his guard down around them the way he often did around her…

“Akaya?” Chiasa asked, mouthparts clicking together. “You okay? You kind of zoned out on me while I was talking.”

She managed a nod. “I’m all right,” she said. “Just taken by surprise.” She looked over to a corner of the room that had been partitioned off with a curtain. Petal Princess had told her that they’d set it up so that she could have a private place to pray, if she so desired, being unsure if she was comfortable praying in front of others. Akaya appreciated the consideration. “Though I do need to say my prayers before I turn in.”

It would give her a moment to think, at the very least.

***

As Akaya entered the small, privacy curtained space, she realized that it was already occupied. It was one of the Shiketsu girls, the one whom she had overhead a few times speaking to Tatsuma in a foriegn language that she couldn’t properly identify.

“Oh,” she said, “my apologies. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.” Though it varied from individual to individual, the average person in Japan was not especially religious or deeply spiritual. And the number of people who were any variety of Christian was smaller still.

The girl though, seemed as surprised to see Akaya as Akaya was to see her.

"It is no trouble," the girl assured her, her Japanese flawless. "I was finishing up anyway." As she stood up, a necklace with a familiar cross could be seen hanging around the girl's neck.

Well, that was indeed surprising. She had heard there had been some additional friction between some of the Shiketsu students and her classmates and the others. Perhaps she could help ease that by finding some common ground with one of them?

“Please forgive my forwardness,” Akaya said. “But you are Christian? I rarely encounter anyone who shares a faith with me.”

That seemed to surprise the girl for a moment, before she looked at her necklace as if remembering it was there.

"My parents are practicing Presbyterians," she answered, somewhat shyly. "I would not go so far as to say I am, but there is much about Christianity I admire. It's comforting to know there's an all-powerful being that actually gives a damn about you out there."

“My mother’s family is Catholic,” Akaya explained, “as am I.” Her father and little brother, Rikido, were not, but it had never been an issue in their family. Both she and her brother had been allowed to explore faith options and choose for themselves.

“It is reassuring. It is often a troubling world. Having somewhere to turn to often helps me to ground myself.” She offered the other girl a small smile. “I am Akaya Koda.”

The other girl seemed to think a bit, as if wondering if she should say anything. Her face softened as she appeared to make a decision. "My name is Seung Park. It is...nice to meet you." She tensed a bit after saying her name.

The same sounded Korean to Akaya’s ears, though she couldn’t say for certain. Though Park was not Japanese, that much was apparent. She knew that foreigners didn’t always have easy lives in Japan, but given how flawless her Japanese was, Park had to be at least second generation. Which did come with its own issues, of course…

“It is nice to meet you as well,” she said. “How are you finding the camp so far?”

"So far I do not see what can be done here that we can't do elsewhere," Park admitted with a stern frown. "I can only assume the teachers are likely going to make us do something to pit us against each other for some ‘clever’ reason. Why else would Shiketsu be invited, given the asinine rivalries that are encouraged."

“Not an impossibility,” Akaya agreed. Park, it seemed, was not afraid to be a bit bold in her declarations. Would that she had such confidence. “But I have been told that the Rookies are among some of the best trainers in the country, so I trust in our teachers’ judgements. Perhaps they simply mean to push us all. A little bit of rivalry can be healthy… though there are those among my fellow students who take it to an extreme.”

Shiro, for example, had already declared that the rivalry between Class 1-A and 1-B was in a temporary state of truce, until they had proven U.A. to be better than Shiketsu. She wasn’t certain if that was a sign of maturity on his part or not, but at least he was trying to channel his energies in semi-positive directions.

"I have considerably more faith in Our Lord than I do in "Hero instructors.’" Park stopped, took a deep breath, said something in Korean, and then let it out. "I apologize. I am not as good a Christian as I would like to be."

There was a sore point there, Akaya was certain. For a Hero student, Park did not seem to have much faith in Heroes themselves. Or at least, not the ones running the camp, she wasn’t sure. That seemed to be a bit of a paradox, but she did not wish to deny the truth of whatever experiences Park had lived.

She shook her head and held up her hands in an apologetic gesture. “No apologies necessary. Even if I don’t agree, I won’t deny you your feelings.”

Park looked surprised at Akaya's response. Clearly, she was not used to people giving her point of view any kind of credence. "I appreciate that." Her eyes seemed to be looking elsewhere, as if she were looking at a place completely different from where they were. She shook her head, actually forming a small smile. "I do not wish to hold up your talk with God. I hope you don't aggravate him as much as I likely do.”

Akaya offered the girl another smile as she left, before kneeling down to begin her own prayers. She would need much of His grace and guidance to get through this camp.

***

Takiyo tapped a few keys on the control panel built into his sleeping pod, causing the hatch to open with a slight hiss. Inside, it looked comfortably padded and had a control panel built into the other side of the hatch as well, so that he could open it when needed. It would be one hundred percent light proof. It was good of the Rookies to provide it, though he would have expected nothing less. U.A. had been very good at meeting his unique needs to far.

His cursed, cursed needs. His damn Quirk that caused him to absorb light constantly, necessitating that he discharge it in regular intervals, that he keep himself covered to minimize absorption, that his dorm room and his room at home be equipped with blackout curtains and more. It required him to be aware of his state of being every second he was awake.

His damn Quirk that had caused him too…

No.

His Quirk that he was going to use to be a Hero. To make up for… what had been done. No matter the costs to him. It was suited for it, where unleashing dazzling light, pushing back the darkness, or projecting devastating lasers. He would make it a Hero’s Quirk.

He had actually exhausted his light-stores under the Rookies’ training today, focusing on both his output and control. It was rare situation. Usually, he had to purposefully discharge it by the end of the day, just for the sake of discharging it. He had started to absorb more light immediately afterwards, but for the moment, he was just barely glowing, a faint sparkle outlining his skin.

“Ahem.” A voice shook him from his introspection and he looked up to see Monoma standing next to the sleeping pod.

He’d barely spoken two words to Monoma that he could recall, in his entire time at U.A. The other boy was vain, arrogant, obsessed with his looks, and not especially self-aware. He was, somehow, friends with Koda, which confused Takiyo greatly. Mineta, he could understand, but he thought Koda was better than that.

“Yes?” Takiyo asked.

“<Can we speak French?>” Monoma asked. Takiyo had been vaguely aware that the Monoma family had some French ancestry, much like his papa also did. He himself was only culturally French to some extent, but the language came easily enough. Monoma cast a significant glance over in the direction of Sero, Sato, and Tsuchikawa.

“Oui,” he replied. The secrecy was puzzling, he had to admit. What could be so important that Monoma did not want anyone overhearing?

Monoma nodded. “<Let’s be clear,>” he said, pointing. “<I don’t like you and you don’t like me. That’s fine. But no one deserves what’s headed your way.”>

Takiyo raised an eyebrow at that. “<Pardon?>” he asked. A threat to his person? Was that insufferable Tsuchikawa planning something? But why would Monoma warn him about that?

“<Mika, Yoarashi, and Fukidashi are planning to set you and Akaya up. Kaminari knows about it to. I don’t think she can stop it.>”

They were going to… what?

Monoma went on. “<Mika claims that it’s obvious you two are very sweet on each other, but that neither one of you would be willing to make the first move. I don’t know if that’s true, but with Mika and Fukidashi teaming up, it’s bound to be a ‘zany scheme.’>”

Koda… who was always kind to him, even when he let his anger and irritation get the better of him. And who forced him to be civil and interact with others, even when he wasn’t doing a particularly good job of it. Koda, who was a sweet, kind girl, who did not deserve the cruelties she had recently endured and seemed to still carry with her.

“<So as someone who has been pulled into many of Mika’s well-meaning, but disastrous schemes, I felt you deserved a warning,>” Monoma added. But his expression turned hard as steel. “<But rest assured, should you still chose to pursue a relationship with Akaya… You will treat her properly, or I will break every bone in your body.>”

With that, Monoma turned on his heels to walk to his own bunk, leaving Takiyo standing there, still trying to process what had been said.

“Hey! Aoyama!” He turned and saw Sero giving him a wave. “Didja loose the blond pretty boy contest or something? Looked pretty serious there!”

Takiyo’s lip pulled back in a snarl. “SHUT UP!”

***

While the barracks for the kids had been relatively Spartan, the facilities in the main compound of the Rookies’ complex were surprisingly nicely appointed. Most of them had gone to bed already. Lady Luminous and Bezoar were in charge of waking the kids up for the next morning’s training session, but they’d all have to be up fairly early. It was late, eleven p.m., long past when Katsuki usually went to bed. At least he’d been able to slip away earlier and call Eijiro and Tai. It’d been a long time since he hadn’t at least called to say goodnight to his son. He wasn’t going to allow himself to miss it for a ‘good’ reason. Because he if he missed it for a ‘good’ reason, then it was a short trip to missing it for a bad reason.

And he was never going to be that kind of parent. His parents had never been truly neglectful—though it had taken a lot of therapy to overcome and course correct his sometimes-toxic relationship with his mother and his enabling father—but they had often been gone. He’d been left in the care of babysitters or ‘Auntie’ Inko as a child more often than he cared to remember, including one particularly disastrous time when he’d been ten and left in the care of his then-teenage shitty cousin Yu, and later to his own devices, when they’d been gone on some photo shoot or modeling expo.

Katsuki had been in a lot of fights over his life. But his toughest fight was the one he fought every day to be a better parent than his own had been. Thank whatever gods existed for Eijro. It was easier to be the better person when you had someone who believed in you that much.

The damned hobo had already gone to bed, but Katsuma, Mahoro, a Rookie he didn’t recognize, and Fujii were still up in floor’s kitchen. And damn did it make him feel old to see people he’d known when they were children as fully-fledged adults and Heroes in their own right. They’d both done good, he admitted, with Katsuma working with Deku for a time and Mahoro training with Camie and even working as one of his Sidekicks for a time. And sure, he hasn’t that much older than either of them. He had less than ten on Katsuma and only five on Mahoro…

But even with their own experiences with that bastard, Nine, he’d had a lot more years of hard living than them. It added up. He certainly felt older than his forty-one years. Now, more than ever.

“So,” he said as he entered the kitchen, “one of you want to tell me why we’ve got Shiketsu students here? Was the Hobo right? Are they dropping their problem kids on us?”

The Rookie he didn’t recognize spoke up. He was a dark-skinned man with his hair in tight cornrows and seemed a bit younger than the rest. He had a red and yellow uniform, with a key-shaped insignia on his chest. “They’re a little rough around the edges, but they don’t seem like problems to me.”

“You haven’t been doing this as long as the rest of us, Takagi,” Katsuma told him. “And you haven’t seen the complete files.”

Mahoro let out a laugh. “You say problem children like your kid isn’t one, Katsuki.”

Katsuki shot her a glare. Katsumi… He was proud of his daughter, loved her more than almost anything in the entire world. She’d gotten some of the best of him. But she’d also gotten some of his worst too. Her anger, her reluctance to properly grapple with her feelings or complex emotions. She might have finally resolved her long-standing hang-ups around Izumi, and she definitely had a better relationship with Toshi than he’d had with Deku, but he still saw some of his school-age self in her. “You take that back, brat.” But he also wasn’t going to let anyone else point it out.

“You going to make me?” She gave him a glare of her own, as though challenging him.

“How have you not matured any in twenty-five years?” he shot back.

“Should… should we be stopping this?” Fujii asked, looking vaguely panicked. The rubber-bodied Hero looked over at Katsuma as though to say ‘please, stop this.’

Katsuma pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mahoro, please stop antagonizing Katsuki. If you two wreck the kitchen, it’ll take forever to get it repaired. And Hiyori will pitch a fit if she can’t have her waffles.”

He pushed back from the table and stood up. “I already had conversations with All Might and Aizawa about this, but you’re not far off, Katsuki. It’s not a random delegation of students. We were asked to take them on specifically.”

Katsuki just rolled his eyes. “Of fucking course.”

“Hey,” Katsuma said. “No need for that kind of language!”

“Yeah, you better listen to him, dammit,” Mahoro said. “We’ve got a swear jar and everything.”

Katsuki wanted to yell, to pop off a few explosions that would rattle Katsuma into realizing what a mistake he’d made in not telling him this immediately. But instead, he sucked in a breath and shook his head, grinding his teeth. He didn’t like being blindsided like this, but anger wouldn’t do him any good. Keeping track of the thirty-three U.A. students was enough of a challenge, even if he hadn’t known some of them since they were in diapers. (He’d changed so many diapers. His shitty-haired husband had a bad habit of offering to babysit for their friends without consulting him first.) He didn’t need any surprises, especially not in his first few days on the job.

What could be so bad that Shiketsu was dumping their kids on U.A.? Sure, the dragon kid was angry, but he’d been worse. And that didn’t explain the rest, especially Windbag’s kid.

“Tell me everything.”

***

Katsuki took a seat at the table, as did Fujii, and Katsuma sat back down. Takagi remained standing, leaning against the kitchen counter. He crossed his arms and set his face in a scowl. To their credit, neither Katsuma nor Mahoro flinched. Mahoro even copied his gesture and expression, the scowl looking only slightly silly on her face. Takagi, though, definitely flinched at the scowl and impending sense of doom both he and Mahoro were giving off.

Good. It was good to see that even hobbled as he was, he could still be intimidating. Still, he felt a little bad. The guy probably didn’t deserve it.

“Okay,” Katsuma said, “so where do you want to start?”

“Tatsuma,” Katsuki said. “I can already tell she’s walking around with a hell of a chip on her shoulder. What’s up?”

“Chie Tatsuma,” Katsuma went on, “daughter of the Dragoon Hero: Ryukyu. Her Quirk allows her to transform into a humanoid dragon form. Class Representative, winner of their first year Sports Festival. Scary strong Quirk. I’ve looked at her file and her scores in the Shiketsu entrance exam were off the charts. They had to recalibrate their threshold because she scored so many points everyone else in her testing area was below the cutoff.”

“Kind of reminds me of you, Blasty,” Mahoro said, jabbing him in the side with her elbow. Katsuki had to admit, she wasn’t wrong. Not that he’d let her have the satisfaction of knowing that.

“Okay,” Katsuki said. “She’s powerful, she’s arrogant. I can work with that. What else?”

Katsuma frowned. “She’s also got a small but building disciplinary record. She’s extremely dissatisfied with the Hero Rankings and the whole ranking system in general. Of which she tends to me very vocal about. Not a lot of respect for most of the top ranked Heroes.”

Fujii tapped a finger against his chin. “Didn’t Ryukyu drop in the rankings really quickly? I remember when I was a kid, just after All Might retired, that she dropped a spot…”

That was putting it mildly. Once a young and rising star, Ryukyu had never been the same after the incident with the Shie Hassaikai. Round Face had said it was like she’d suffered a crisis of faith, lost a step somewhere. She’d slipped pretty steadily, year after year, ranking after ranking. And so people had stopped believing in her. You hear that kind of bullshit enough, you internalize it, and it just feeds a vicious cycle.

“And, of course, she’s got the kids of a shit ton of high ranked Heroes with her here,” Katsuki growled. “Wonderful. Let me guess… wants to make a name for herself and redeem her mom, but hates the system that’d make that happen?”

“Got it,” Katsuma said. “Think maybe you can help direct her anger some?”

“I’m the Number Four Hero,” Katsuki snapped. At least until the next Billboard Chart ranking. Not something he was looking forward to. It was only a “leave of absence.” Best Jeanist had been the same ranking as he was when he’d suffered a nearly career ending injury too. That had turned out all right for his old mentor, but he wondered if he’d be able to say the same. He was going to file that under things he wasn’t going to think about. “She won’t listen to me.”

“Aizawa said he’d talk to her,” Mahoro said. “Underground Heroes don’t get ranked at all. Maybe he’ll get through. And besides, he managed to focus you.”

Katsuki let her have that one.

“Let’s see,” Katsuma went on. “I assume you’re familiar with Shinji Yoarashi?”

“You really want to ask stupid questions?” he shot back. “I’ve known Windbag’s kid for ages. I’m guessing his being here has something to do with his unauthorized rescue mission back during the Nomu mess?”

The kid had likely saved Katsumi’s life, Round Face’s too, with that stunt. Even if it’d been technically illegal and on extremely dubious grounds, Katsuki couldn’t blame him too much for that. Sure, he was as annoying and loud as his dad, but his heart had been in the right place. Sometimes, intent mattered more than the rules.

“Pretty much,” Katsuma said with a nod. “His teachers want us to focus in on following the rules and proper procedures.”

“Does that include knowing when to break them?”

“No,” Katsuma said.

“Yes,” Mahoro said at the same time. The two exchanged glances.

“Got it,” Katsuki said.

“Good,” Fujii added. “…Explain it to me?”

Katsuki did not dignify that with a response.

“Okay,” he said, “what about Tsuchikawa?” He still couldn’t believe Pixie-Bob had a kid. Apparently, she adopted him after stopping his villainous parent. Word around the rumor mill, or wherever Pikachu got his nonsense from, was that she was still just as promiscuous and flirtatious as ever, having made the complete transformation into a full on cougar. She was supposed to have a daughter too, he recalled, though the father wasn’t known.

He shuddered at the memory of the woman at Class 3-A’s graduation, sitting front row, giving him, Deku, IcyHot, and Glasses looks he never wanted to see again.

“Ego and lack of teamwork skills mostly,” Mahoro told him. She gave him a pointed look. “Definitely your department.”

“Ooooh, she’s got you pegged,” Fujii said. The rubber-bodied man grinned for a second, before wilting under Katsuki’s glare.

“How has Aizawa not killed you yet, you glorified gacha prize?” His former teacher didn’t suffer fools gladly and neither did Katsuki. And yes, while he was relatively young, Fujii did have an impressive career as a Pro-Hero behind him already. Never more than a “friendly neighborhood Hero”, he was nevertheless liked by many and had saved a lot of lives. And very popular with children to boot. Tai had an action figure of him that actually bounced.

He was just damned annoying.

“I’m pretty much indestructible!”

Katsuki growled. “You want to put that to the test?”

“…No.”

“What about Park?” he asked, rather than get drawn into anything else with his fellow teacher. “Korean, right?” Something tugged at his memory and he frowned as he tried to place it.

“Another one with a lot of anger,” Katsuma admitted. “And even more distrust for Heroes than Tatsuma. Tatsuma, at least, only disagrees with the ranking of Heroes and the spectator sport part of that. Park isn’t entirely convinced in the Hero system at all. Impressive Quirk though… uses bioenergy to enhance her physical attributes. Short bursts of power or speed. She’ll make a good Hero if she can get past her issues.”

He looked a little defeated by the prospect of it. Katsuki remembered what he’d been like on Nobu Island, a lot like Deku had been at the same age. So full of love for Heroes and faith that they could solve everything. He’d even admit he’d been like that at one time, before he’d been kidnapped and forced to reckon with his own limitations. Before he’d seen so much of the seedier side of the world, and the problems that punching something or unleashing an explosion in its face couldn’t solve.

“Any idea what caused it?” Fujii asked. “Everybody likes Heroes. It’s kind of Japan’s thing.”

“The Ignition Incident,” Katsuki said, as the memory floated itself up into his mind. Up until Endeavor’s public confession, it had been the biggest scandal in Hero history.

“The what now?” Fujii asked. His rubberized features twisted up in confusion. “I don’t remember any Ignition Incident.”

“Then you either weren’t paying attention or had a crappy Hero History teacher,” Katsuki growled. What the hell were they teaching in schools these days? That American idiot, Skyline, taught Hero History at U.A. He’d maybe he’d have to sit in on a few classes to make sure they were getting it right.

“Wait,” Takagi said. His eyes went wide. “I know about that one. Shit.”

“Anybody going to clue me in here?” Fujii asked, looking furtively from face to face. “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“So this was about twenty years ago,” Katsuma explained. “Ignition was Suguru Dian, a U.A. grad from the class behind Deku and his friends, with a powerful flame Quirk that basically let him set anything on fire. He went from Sidekick to full on Pro in almost no time at all. People called him the second coming of Endeavor.”

Katsuki remembered the guy, having worked with him a few times, both professionally and when they’d been students and the then Class 2-A had done joint training with the new 1-A. Arrogant as all get out, but with the talent to back it up. Of course, Aizawa and Deku had ended up having to pry him and Katsuki apart…

“So Ignition is half-Chinese and a rising star,” Mahoro said, taking over from her brother. “And being a rising star like that, the HPSC, in its infinite wisdom, thinks it’s got an “in” to help better police some of the Chinatown communities, especially with the Rising Sons Triad starting to fill the void the Shie Hassaikai left behind. Unfortunately, he’s got daddy issues, on account of his Chinese dad abusing him and his mom. Which boils over into some pretty self-hating racist stuff too.”

“Okay,” Fujii said. “I’m getting some ideas here, but Park’s Korean, not Chinese.”

“We’re getting to it,” Katsuma said. “So Ignition is made a part of an anti-Triad taskforce, and ends up investigating a Triad owned restaurant. The community there is already pretty involved in self-policing, so there’s a lot of resistance, insults, pretty much all his buttons getting pushed. But something inside him snaps, total breakdown. He thinks he’s taking down Triad agents, and instead he’s fighting innocent civilians with an extremely dangerous Quirk.”

“People died, man,” Takagi said. “Dozens more injured, massive property damage, the works. Public relations nightmare and international scandal. Global news for months.”

“There was a big show trial,” Katsuma added. “Ignition was stripped of his license. As far as I know, he’s still locked away somewhere. The HPSC made a big show of providing additional sensitivity training for Heroes, better psych screening, community outreach, all the kinds of things that would reassure the public.”

Katsuki remembered it all well. He’d only been solo a year or two at that point, not long after a stint sidekicking under Beast Jeanist. His late mentor had been appalled by what had happened. He’d been disgusted too. Especially by the way the HPSC reacted.

“It was all smoke,” he snarled. “They didn’t prohibit it, but they did stop specifically assigned Heroes to “ethnic” neighborhoods. And sure, plenty of Heroes still went in and did their damn jobs. But it broke a lot of trust. They left a lot of people to fend for themselves, instead of cleaning up their own act.”

Even Deku had wanted to do more, but he’d been too new still, too hamstrung by the rules and regulations. He’d done more than any of them though. Deku was one of the few Heroes pretty much beloved across all communities in Japan.

“Things got better, eventually,” Katsuma said. “Political winds shifted, Commission members turned over, policies got reversed, and we started working with people better. But there’s still a lot of people out there who remember or who felt the effects of being abandoned. The general consensus in a lot of those communities is still not to trust Heroes or have any faith in us being able to get the job done.”

“Well… shit,” Fujii said. “How did I not know about this?”

“Because you’re an idiot?” Katsuki suggested, but his heart wasn’t in the barb. The man seemed genuinely shocked by the news and even a bit sobered by it.

“That’s really only about half of it,” Katsuma said. “She was born here, but her parents were immigrants, seeking to escape the anti-Mutant Humanist groups in Korea. Of course…”

Right, Katsuki thought. That was a whole mess of politics and cultural issues he didn’t even feel remotely qualified to untangle. But the government tended to lump all members of an ethnic group together, in this case not sparing much distinction between new immigrants and culturally assimilated Zainicihi Koreans. With crime and politics and all that… it didn’t leave a lot of faith in the supposed chosen protectors. And when you’d seen the government turn on you once…

“So we’ve got to undo generational trauma,” he groaned. “Great. They came here, expecting the same protection from heroes Japanese citizens get, and instead they arrive into a hornet's nest due to uncaring bureaucrats desperately trying to save face while not rocking the boat.”

He let out a frustrated noise. What about the last one? Shida? The spider-girl. What’s her damage?”

“Oh, her,” Mahoro laughed. “She just wanted to be with her friends, apparently. And no one told her why the others were being sent.”

That was… that was… pretty par for the course for absurdity, where things in his life were concerned. Katsuki let out a laugh, long and loud.

“Make it stop!” Fujii wailed. “He’s scaring me!”

#my hero academia #their hero academia #fan fiction #fan fic #my writing #katsumi kirishima-bakugo #akaya koda #takiyo aoyama #katsuki bakugo #shiro monoma #mahoro shimano #katsuma shimano

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romioneficfest · 4 years

Text

The Moment I Knew

Title: The Moment I Knew

Prompt/Day: 9 - Their Wedding Day

Tumblr name:

Rating: K+

Brief summary: At the dinner table during he and Hermione’s wedding, Ron stands up to deliver his groom’s speech before the first bride and groom dance, about the moment he knew she was the one.

Warning tag: brief mention of sleeping together, doesn’t go past that; brief mention of alcohol, brief mention of potentially-PTSD nightmares

“Witches and wizards, if I could just have your attention, please! And I mean it, because I’m getting real tired of clinking this fork against this wineglass like some Muggle —no offense to my in-laws, of course—, and if I try to charm them to do it I’ll probably go overboard and it’ll break and that won’t be good for anyone… So if I could have your attention, please! … That’s better.

“We’re here today, together as we have so many times before, not so you can all take advantage of the complimentary alcohol we’ve so kindly provided (I’m looking at you, Hagrid, I know that’s your third tankard), but to celebrate the fact that Hermione has officially agreed to sleep with me and me only forever —ouch, you don’t have to pinch me, I know I need to apologize to your parents again, but it was too good not to say it— but no, really, it’s because this beautiful, brilliant witch next to me has somehow agreed to spend the rest of her life with me. Now that’s luck, folks, and take it from someone who’s seen Felix Felicis up close.

“Marriage is new. It’s scary, yes, not in the ‘snatchers are chasing us across a forest and we’re gonna die,” but in the way good things should be. And like all things new, a lot of questions come with it. Like how do we choose whose side of the bed is whose, and commit to that forever? How do you raise a kid without screwing them up too badly? And how on earth do I learn how to sort a sock drawer? These questions all look forward, into a future I’m overjoyed I’m getting to live, but there are some questions that lead me to look back. And from those recollections, a single question stands out, one that I change the answer to pretty much on the daily, the one I think over every night as I go to sleep next to this beautiful woman: when did I know she was the one?

“Like I said, I change the answer to this one on the reg, because living with Hermione Granger means she gives me a whole new reason to fall for her every single day, and with every passing day I spend next to her not an instant goes by that I don’t think ‘she’s the one' all over again. We’ve known each other since we were eleven, after all, and I’ve loved her pretty much the whole time. Yes, Harry, stop looking at me like that, even in first year— nearer the end, I’ll admit. So if you asked me to pick out just one instant when I knew, when I was sure— well, mate, I’d be hard-pressed to find just one.

"I could say it was yesterday, when I’d scarcely woken up and I was still all groggy, but my eyes managed to open just enough for me to see her already sitting up in bed, frowning down at her book and scribbling something onto it. Seven thirty in the morning, and the woman wasn’t just reading, she was annotating! I dipped back into sleep, sure, but to see her entranced by her reading just never gets old— which is a good thing, I guess, because I don’t think I can count on her ditching the books anytime soon.

"I could say it was a few months ago, when she got me surprise tickets to a Cannons game —it wasn’t even my birthday or anything—, and then she spent the game telling me all these facts, because she’d read a book to be able to understand my favorite team. I didn’t even mind— I complain about her lectures, but the truth is, I think I learn more from them than I ever did at school.

"I could say it was a couple years back, when she proposed we move in together because ‘oh, Ronald, how are you going to manage on your own'— and it’s true, I don’t think I could’ve, because she keeps me sane and grounded in a way no one else does. I told Harry back at the beginning of seventh year that we wouldn’t last two days without her, and though I think he needs her less now that he’s made snogging my sister his full-time job, it certainly holds true for me. It’s pretty simple: I don’t know what I’d do without her.

"I could say it was even farther back, the first time I met her parents, where I was practically soiling my pants because I was so nervous they’d think I wasn’t good enough for their daughter —which they might think now, honestly, after all the things I’ve said in the space of the last five minutes— or that there’d be something wrong with me. And she sat me down, in a little bench a few steps from her driveway, and she held my shoulders until I was breathing normally and she told me they’d love me: not just because I was the man their daughter loved, but because I was Ron. She countered all the things I’d spent my life fearing: she told me I was good, she told me I was enough, she told me she was lucky to have me. And besides, she said, if they didn’t like me, it didn’t matter, because she loved me more than anyone else could. Let me tell you, when we walked in arm-in-arm, I wasn’t shaking anymore, and if you ask me, that’s a more magical feat than any advanced spell she’s conjured, which (if you know Hermione’s wandwork as well as I do) is no small thing.

"I could also say it’s been every time I’ve woken up with a start from a nightmare, thinking I’m still there, feeling the cold weight of the locket against my chest, and she’s been right there to hold me, to warm me up again and let me cry it out on her shoulder, to lull me back to sleep in the comfort of her arms and her kisses. That’s a good estimation of when, because every time it happens, I can’t help but just be overwhelmed by how lucky I am to have her.

"I could say it was the time she first kissed me, when I finally showed her just how much I cared and, sure, basilisk fangs on the floor don’t make for a very romantic setting, and when I told Harry it was 'now or never’, I wanted that 'now’ to last me an eternity. I don’t need to tell all of you how hard and terrifying fighting a war is— and I don’t know if I could’ve done it if it hadn’t been for that kiss.

"I could say it was when she was— when we were— at Malfoy Manor, and all that existed in my head was her screaming, and how much I wanted it to stop. I knew nothing would be the same if we didn’t get out of there together, and I wanted more than anything to storm up and protect her, to save her— I made a promise to myself I would. The feeling didn’t go away for the days at Shell Cottage she spent in my arms, and it overjoys me that, by marrying her, I’m able to keep fulfilling that promise forever.

"I could say it was that time she almost killed me with her bare hands after I came back to the forest, and she didn’t talk to me for a few days. I was back with my best friends, I’d destroyed a Horcrux, the mission seemed going well; I should have been exhilarated, but all that I thought was that the only way it’d all have been worth it was if she would give me one of her lovely smiles again.

"I could say it was when we shared a dance at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. Sure, I swept her up partly to get her away from Viktor —hello, by the way, I know you’re sitting there all broody at a table somewhere—, but as she was steering me across the dance floor (because the thing about Hermione is that she always leads, and I’m perfectly happy with that) and I was holding her hand in one of mine and her waist in the other, it felt like that was where I was meant to be. Like things just fit.

"I could say it was when she helped me clean up the ink spill over my homework back in sixth year. Y'know, I actually told her I loved her then— really, I said, "I love you, Hermione,” and she had the audacity to say I shouldn’t let Lavender hear that, as if I wasn’t gonna see her blush. To this day, I’m not sure she knows I meant it. Well, now I know she does.

“I could also say it was when I almost died from that poisoned mead, and she kept me company at the infirmary every day. She read me books too advanced for me to understand, she just sat there and did her homework by me, but she was there with me, like I was, back in second year when she was petrified and couldn’t even hear me— but, Merlin, was I glad I could hear all the things she told me during those days. That’s the thing about Hermione— she’s always got something fascinating to say.

"I could also say it was when she attacked me with birds —blimey, Hermione, a lot of these moments have to do with me almost dying or you almost killing me, maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all- ouch! I’m kidding…—; like I was saying, when she attacked me with birds, in sixth year too. A spell I’d never seen before, and of course, her being Hermione Granger, it worked, and I was picking at scabs for a week after that. Strangely, though, it didn’t feel so bad: it felt like she cared. And it gave me hope for us.

"I could say it was when she made that Edgecombe girl’s face flare up in boils, when she gave up the DA— it was brilliant, it really was, and it showed me a different side of her. A wilder, more violent side, perhaps, but a new side of her for me to love. Besides, I guess, in the moral scheme of things, it sorta knocked her down a notch from her pedestal, which to someone like me was splendid news.

"I could say it was all throughout that summer before fifth year, where we spent so much time alone at Grimmauld place, laughing in a bedroom and avoiding my mum’s cleaning craze. I got to be with her, just her, for weeks on end during that time, and it showed me just how much I liked being alone together.

"But I think, even through this myriad of all-good-answers, I think there’s one moment that shines through them all, that deserves its place as the moment I knew. It was the Yule Ball, fourth year, and I was wearing some rather atrocious dress robes I’ll never forgive my mum for —even if she murders me, by the look on her face, after I’m done talking—, when Hermione came down the stairs, looking like a dream in blue. She was radiant, and she flashed me one of those irresistible grins over her shoulder as she took Krum’s hand and took to the dance floor with him. Fellas, there are plenty of reasons to be jealous of a world-class Seeker, but at that moment, his Quidditch skills weren’t particularly what I envied. That was when I knew she was the only girl I’d ever see like I saw her that night, even if I had to spend my whole life chasing after her.

"But tonight, the chase is over. And tonight, it’s my turn: she’s dressed in white now, not in blue, but she still looks like a slice of heaven; she looks even happier, if I dare say it, and it’s my hand she’s letting guide her to the dance floor now, for our first dance as husband and wife. But before I dance with her, I just want to take another moment to tell her how much I love her, and how —at long last, after all these years, though there’s never been a shadow of doubt in my mind— she’s made me the happiest man in the world, because I’m marrying the only girl there’s ever been for me. And how I hope, in her life —our life—, I can make her even half as happy as she’s made me since the first day she barged into my train compartment and demanded to know my name.

"Cheers!”

#Romione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Romione FicFest 2020 #Fic Post #submission #Rated T #Ace Safe #The Unabridged version #Unabridged version wasn't eligible for voting #Why? Exceeded the word count #but I enjoyed it so much #that I promised the Author that it'd be posted for the fest #Ta muchly!#Queue Up for the Dragon

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lovabletomholland · 4 years

Text

False Pretenses - Chapter 5

Fake Dating Series (College AU)

Tom Holland Imagine (Tom Holland x Reader)

Word Count: 1,689

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Mention of alcohol

Summary: You and Tom have a talk about the events that happened on Christmas. Once you’re back at your apartment you meet up with James to have a conversation with him. You get ready for the New Year with new hopes.

A/N: So this is the last chapter, other than the epilogue. Thank you guys so much for taking this journey with me with my first series. I’m glad you enjoyed it! Thank you all so much! Happy New Year!!

Previously: Chapter 4

"I'm sorry about this morning. I wasn't thinking and it just happened. I know you just got out of a relationship and you were vulnerable and I took advantage of that." Tom said in a rush, "Which is why I've been avoiding you. I feel horrible. I know you only kissed back because you were feeling emotional over your break up and were rebounding. I don’t want us to start out like that because if that's how it starts, it usually ends badly. You mean so much to me. I can't lose you." Is that what he thinks? That you would just use him as a rebound? Doesn't he know you better than that? "Tom, I would never use you as a rebound. I'm not even upset over my break up with James. Honestly, it's been a long time coming. I feel at peace with it." You sigh, "I kissed you back because I wanted to. You mean everything to me as well. You're my best friend, you're always there for me. My feelings have changed. I don't know exactly when, but they have. I mean I think I've always had deeper feelings for you, I just didn't want to admit it because it's scary. I don't want to lose you and if that means just being your friend then I'm okay with that." Clearly you have to be, he made it obvious he didn't care for you that way. He said he wasn't thinking when he kissed you. You see his mouth open and then close. When it opens a second time you hold your hand up to save him the trouble, "Seriously it's okay, Tom. You don't feel the same, I get it. You care for me, just not that way." You feel your cheeks heat up from embarrassment caused by being rejected. You really just want to get out of here. Spend the rest of break by yourself in the apartment you share with Tom. At least then you'd have time to get over this before having to see him again. God, it was all so embarrassing. You start to get up but feel his hand grab yours. "How do you not know?" He asks. "What?" You ask confused, slowly turning to look at him. "How do you not know that I am hopelessly in love with you?" Tom says sitting up in the bed and turning so he can properly look at you. "You're the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning, the last when I go to bed. These past few days have been so hard. I've had to constantly remind myself that it's all a lie, you're not really mine, when it's all I've wanted for so long," he sighs and runs his fingers through his curls. "I just don't think right now is the time for us to start anything. You did just get out of a relationship and I don't want any unresolved emotions to mess us up." He pulls you against him and kisses your forehead. "Our time will come. I've always believed that." You know he's probably right but you still feel like you've been rejected. Still it feels nice to be in his arms. You wrap your arms around him and give him a squeeze, "Still friends?" You ask pulling away to look up at him. "For now," he winks at you and pulls you back in for a hug. "Sorry for being a bit of a dick today especially after I brought you here." "It's fine," you pull away and snuggle under the covers, "your family and Harrison are all really great. So I still felt right at home." The two of you also leave in a couple days because you're attending a New Year’s Eve party with some friends from university. So you'll be back in your own bed which is good and bad. You'll miss cuddling with Tom but you're still embarrassed so at least you can avoid that awkwardness once you get back to the apartment. *** Saying goodbye to everyone made you sad, you had got so used to being around the boys but it does feel nice to be back in your own bedroom. You sort through your suitcase putting things up that can be and making a pile for what needs to be washed. You're going to meet James in an hour, he's been texting you non-stop and you finally agreed to meet him. You're so ready to close that chapter of your life and begin a new one. You look at the pile of clothes that need to be washed and sigh, you'll tackle that mess tomorrow. You walk out of your bedroom and see Tom sitting on the couch. He looks up and gives you a smile that speeds your heart rate up, "Done unpacking?" He asks. You nod, "Yeah, or at least close enough." You grab your jacket and put it on. "I'm going to meet James so he'll stop texting me," you tell Tom, "then we can go grab something for dinner, okay?" You smile. His smile disappears for a second but then it's back but it doesn't reach his eyes, "Sure. Let me know if your plans change though." He still doesn't think that you're over James but you are. James never made your heart speed up like Tom does. When you finally stopped denying the obvious, that you have a crush on your best friend, it made everything else come into focus. You've been really dumb the past year trying to push away your feelings and date other guys that you really had no interest in, you just made yourself believe you did to hide what you felt for Tom because it scared you. "I'll be back in a bit," you say heading out the door. You sit in the back of the café and order your drink. Once the barista gives it to you, James comes in. He looks around and then starts heading your way when he spots you. "Hey," he sits down in front of you, "Thanks for agreeing to meet me." "I only did it so you'd leave me alone." You tell him honestly. "Look. I was an ass. I only took that picture and posted it online to make you jealous. I was just so pissed that you went to Tom's for Christmas and I kept seeing the pictures you posted with him and it made it worse." He sighs, "Not that it's an excuse for my behavior." You take a sip of your coffee before speaking, "I only went to Tom's because you didn't invite me to your place. I'm really glad you didn't though because being away from you, I finally realized something." You look up at him, "And I probably wouldn't have, if I had gone with you, so thank you." You say sincerely. You see the confusion in his eyes, "And what did you realize?" He asks. You put your mug down, "That I have feelings for Tom that aren't just platonic." His eyes narrow at you in anger, "I fuckin knew it! I knew you were cheating on me with him. That's why I didn't want to bring you home to meet my family." You sigh, "I never cheated on you James. Tom and I are just friends, even right now. You are the only one who cheated but I'm not mad. I'm sorry. I hope you find someone to make you happy. I truly do." Because in a way you kind of used him to hide behind so you wouldn't have to admit your true feelings for Tom. You stand and leave some money on the table for your coffee. "Happy New Year," you tell him as you walk away. He says nothing as you walk out the door which has you relieved, you didn't want to make a scene in the café. Honestly, you don't think he ever had feelings for you either otherwise he wouldn't have done what he did. You smile to yourself feeling happy. You've closed this chapter in your life and you're ready to start a new one with Tom, whenever he is ready. You'll give him his space though, for now. A couple days later you're at a New Year’s Eve party with your friends. Most of them are drunk but not you, drinking has never been your thing. You spot Tom and even though he's had a couple beers you know he isn't drunk either. He smiles at you and you make your way over to him. "Having fun?" You ask him once you're close enough for him to hear you over the music. "Yeah, I lost Harrison though, or well actually I think he ditched me since he saw a girl he wanted to talk to." He shrugs and gives you a look that says what can you do? Harrison came down for New Years and you were happy to see him, plus it made Tom really happy and seeing him happy made you happy. "I'm sure we will find him when he wants to be found," you giggle and Tom nods as you hear someone yell it's a minute until midnight. Wow, it's really almost midnight? You look at the clock and it definitely is. You look up at Tom, you really want to kiss him when its midnight but you don't know how he will feel about that. You are ready for this, you've told him you're over James but he has yet to make a move and it’s frustrating. You hear people start to countdown 10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! You smile at Tom and decide to go for it. (4!) He smiles back, "Happy New Year, Y/N." (3! 2!) You wrap your arms around his neck (1!) and pull him down, your lips meeting his. He stiffens at first but then he relaxes and you feel his arms go around your waist bringing you closer to him as he deepens the kiss. You pull away just enough to mumble against his lips, "Happy New Year, Thomas."

Epilogue

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added:)

@averyfosterthoughts, @artsyle, @photoshopart15, @peterisparker, @rebekkah4766, @jackiehollanderr, @myr5heart, @143amberrose, @mendes-fan, @peteparkersdarling, @jdroman5432, @stxfxniexreads, @nightxshadex201, @literalfsngirltrash

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfic #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction

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ofstormsandwolves · 4 years

Text

Hot for Teacher

Teen

Zoey x Joan

Follow-up to I’ll Stand By You (first installment of ‘what the heart wants (or, Zoey’s Extraordinary Gaylist)’)

Covers scenes from Glitch through to Mother.

Synopsis: After inadvertently singing to Joan following the Chirp presentation, Zoey finds herself trying to figure out her feelings for her boss, as well as for Max and Simon...

Read on AO3

Zoey had thought her day was going badly when she’d gone with her parents to the doctor that morning.

Then she thought her day was going badly when she’d sung Crazy all through the lobby.

Then she’d sung to Danny Michael Davis during the Chirp meeting. And Max, afterwards. And then, Simon in the meditation room. And now Joan wanted to see her urgently.

“Don’t sing, don’t sing, don’t sing...” Zoey muttered to herself as she walked towards Joan’s office.

It was bad enough that she’d sung I’m Yours to Max. It was even worse when she’d sung I Want You to Want Me to Simon and Max had walked in. But singing to Joan? The last thing Zoey wanted was her boss thinking she was having some sort of breakdown.

Besides, things were complicated enough without her having to evaluate her feelings for Joan on top of evaluating her feelings for Max and Simon. Ever since Simon and Jessica’s engagement party, and Joan getting her to the hospital and helping with Mitch, and Joan singing I’ll Stand By You... Well, Zoey hadn’t been able to shake the nagging feeling she felt something more than friendship for her boss. And given the way her powers were playing up...

“Zoey!”

She blinked, and saw Joan staring at her with a concerned look. Lost in her own thoughts, Zoey had wandered straight into the older woman’s office without even noticing.

“Uh...”

Frowning, Joan surveyed the redhead, clearly mulling over what to say. “Are you alright?” she asked eventually. “Is it your dad?”

“What?” Zoey blinked. “Uh, no. No, my dad’s fine.”

Joan nodded slowly. “Ok. Then care to explain what happened with Danny Michael Davis?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Zoey shrugged and avoided the other woman’s eyes. “Did... Did he not like it?”

“He did like it, but that’s not the point. I mean, he did say he thinks you’re strange. Which is saying something, coming from Danny Michael Davis... But he’s also giving us the funding.”

Zoey tried the optimistic approach then. “So everything’s good?”

“Zoey, you can’t do things like that.” Joan sighed. “I mean, that was a big swing, and I don’t mind a big swing, but I have to know about it! I don’t like not knowing things like that-”

Leif appeared in the doorway then, arms folded across his chest as he surveyed Zoey. Joan frowned at him.

“Um, Leif, can I help you?”

The young man blinked, and looked to the other woman with a smug smile. “No. Just wanted to be here. I mean, Zoey jeopardising our project like that-”

Joan held her hand up, cutting him off. “Ok, Leif, stop right there. I understand that the Chirp was your idea, and I understand your concern, but I’m dealing with it. And I do not appreciate people gloating when their co-workers make a mistake.”

The smug smile had slid from Leif’s face, and he mumbled out an apology before slinking away. Zoey saw him go over to Tobin and mutter something before both men looked in her direction.

“Ignore them,” Joan said, drawing the attention back to them. “Zoey, I’m worried about you. Your behaviour today was... Well, it wasn’t like you. You’re out of sorts, you disappear off into Zoey land and nobody can bring you back, you sang a song and danced on a table during a meeting.”

Zoey looked away for a moment, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. But her mind was blank. Letting out a defeated sigh, she sank into a chair, her head in her hands.

“I don’t know what to say,” she mumbled. “There’s nothing to say. You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Zoey’s head whipped up at the words, not just because of what Joan had said but also because her voice was suddenly much closer. She’d stood up and moved round her desk without Zoey hearing or noticing, and she quickly moved to kneel in front of the younger woman’s chair.

“I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again, Zoey; let me help.”

Joan’s bright blue eyes were brimming over with concern, and Zoey felt a tug at her heart. She’d ruined almost everything she’d touched that day, from her relationships with Max and Simon, to the meeting with Danny Michael Davis, and she felt like a complete disaster. But Joan was looking at her, with this gentle, concerned expression that made Zoey want to cry, or hug her, or...

Or kiss her.

She wanted to kiss Joan.

Ok, that wasn’t exactly a revelation; she’d been acutely aware of her shifting feelings for the other woman since Simon’s failed engagement party, but she’d managed to mostly avoid Joan since then. Now, with that expression on Joan’s face and her being so close... It wouldn’t take much for Zoey to simply lean in and kiss her.

And as music started up in her head, she suddenly realised that was the last thing she needed to be thinking about today.

If Joan had had any inkling that Zoey was about to burst into song again, she’d hidden it well. But the moment the singing started, the brunette went pale. Zoey couldn’t blame her.

“Oh yeah, teacher stop that screamin’,

Teacher don’t you see? Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Zoey clapped a hand over her mouth then, wide-eyed as Joan blinked at her with an expression that suddenly looked less concerned and more scared.

“Z-Zoey?” Joan prompted.

Even with her hands over her mouth, the lyrics were still tumbling out, even if they were muffled.

“Maybe I should go to hell but I am doing well

Teacher needs to see me after school...”

Unable to take it, Zoey threw herself from the chair and set off at a run for the women’s toilets. She’d barely skidded inside before she was singing again.

“I think of all the education that I’ve missed,

But then my homework was never quite like this...”

The door burst open and Joan hurried in, still pale and anxious, and fixing Zoey with an extremely disturbed look.

“Are you alright? Is this... Is this some sort of, I don’t know, breakdown?”

But Zoey couldn’t answer as the singing continued. Instead, she sagged against a sink.

“Ow!”

She pushed away, then, her body knowing dance steps instinctively, all while Joan stared at her with folded arms and a nauseous expression.

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad,

I’m hot for teacher.

I’ve got it bad, so bad!

I’m hot for teacher!”

“Oh, god,” Joan said, hands going to her hair as she processed what was happening. “Uh, ok, Zoey, I think we need to talk-”

“I heard about your lessons but lessons are so cold,

I didn’t know about this school.

Little girl from Cherry Lawn, how can you be so bold?

How did you know that golden rule?

I think of all the education that I’ve missed,

But then my homework was never quite like this...

Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad,

I’m hot for teacher.

I’ve got it bad, so bad!

I’m hot for teacher!”

As Zoey finally finished singing, have skidded towards Joan on her knees, she found herself staring up at her pale-faced and wide-eyed boss. Joan blinked, and then took a step back.

“I-” Joan managed, before going quiet.

Scrambling quickly to her feet, Zoey desperately tried to come up with an explanation for what had just happened. “Joan! Joan I’m sorry! I can explain-”

But Joan was backing towards the door, staring at Zoey like she was a stranger. “I... I can’t do this right now.”

And then Joan was gone, leaving Zoey standing alone in the middle of the bathroom.

As much as Zoey didn’t want to go to her parents’ that night, she knew she had to. Of course, a conversation with Max helped her see reason, but that didn’t stop the nerves from building up as she headed over. Her head was a mess. Not only was she walking into a horrific conversation about what will happen when her dad inevitably dies, but she was also still trying to process having sung three separate heart songs to three separate people.

By the time she got to her parents’, Zoey found that a part of her was sort of looking forward to seeing her dad, if only to try and talk the situation out with him.

That was when it really hit her.

How much longer would she be able to go to her dad to talk these things out? How much longer would she have a loving parent who knew about her powers? Sure, there was Mo, and Max, but there was something reassuring about her dad knowing. He knew her best, after all, and Zoey also knew that he would always love her unconditionally.

In hindsight, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Zoey that she ended up singing to her dad. Given the day she’d had, and the people she’d sung to throughout work, she possibly should have seen it coming. Still, there was something cathartic to this song, a feeling that she hadn’t felt when singing to anyone else. When the song was over, Zoey let out a sigh and looked to her dad.

“So, as you’ve probably figured out, I haven’t exactly had the best day.”

Mitch gave a small laugh at that, trying to shift to look at her.

“I mean, first your news this morning, and then the CEO showed up at work unexpectedly and wanted us to pitch our latest project. I sang all through the lobby and made myself look like a complete idiot. Then, I sang to our CEO and Max had to bail me out. I sang to both Max and the guy I have a crush on, and now Max is angry at me, and...” Zoey trailed off, taking a breath and looking to her dad. “I sang to my boss.”

Mitch’s head tilted ever so slightly to the side, and he gave the taboo buzzer a quick, short buzz to demonstrate his confusion.

“The thing is, I sang a song to Max that seems to suggest I have feelings for him. Then I went and sang a song to the man I have a crush on, and basically admitted I was attracted to him. Max walked in during the song and now he’s mad at me. But after that, my boss- uh, Joan, you met her the night you had the fall- wanted to talk to me about what happened during the presentation.”

Mitch made a small noise to show he understood then, glancing to Zoey with a slightly furrowed brow.

“The song I sang, it... I think I have a crush on Joan.” Bright red, Zoey ploughed on before her dad could react. “And that’s... That’s insane! I mean, not that I have a crush on Joan, but I already have a crush on Simon, and it seems like I have feelings for Max, and I don’t know what to do! I never even really considered dating a woman before, but with Joan? I just... This whole thing just seems too much right now, Dad.”

Sighing, Zoey moved to rest her head on her dad’s shoulder.

“I know you’ve got a lot going on right now, Dad, and I know this is the last thing you need. I just... Needed to vent, I guess.”

Maggie appeared in the doorway then, surveying her husband and daughter with a sad smile. “Everything alright?”

Zoey shifted slightly to look to her dad, before glancing back to her mom. “Yeah. Me and Dad have been having a chat, talking some things out.”

“I see,” Maggie said with a small frown. “And have you finished talking it out, or would you like another ear?”

Zoey thought about it for a moment. Her mom wouldn’t understand the singing stuff, but she could perhaps at least empathise with Zoey’s confused feelings for more than one person. Although, she’d had a tough day and really, Zoey’s problems could always wait for a while...

With a tight smile, Zoey shook her head. “I’m good.”

With Joan off at a conference, Zoey found she had a few days of breathing space. While she filled her time with work and helping Howie reconnect with his daughter, Zoey couldn’t quite escape the embarrassing memories of her powers glitching. There was more than one awkward conversation, with both Simon and Max, and it only served to remind her that once Joan was back she had to come up with some way to explain what had happened.

“What if I tell her the truth?” Zoey suggested one evening while she was at Mo’s.

Mo fixed her with a look at that. “You want to tell your boss about your powers? Child, you told me she thought you were having a breakdown. Do you really think she’ll believe you?”

Zoey frowned at the question. “Yes? Maybe?” She deflated. “No?”

Mo sighed. “Look, I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from. No fake explanation will ever be good enough to explain to Joan why you sang Hot for Teacher to her.” Then, he tilted his head to one side. “Although maybe we’re looking at this all wrong. Joan is a determined woman who, if what you told me about her ex-husband is true, is good at ignoring her problems. Maybe you don’t need to say anything.”

“What, you think she’ll just pretend it never happened?” Zoey asked.

Mo shrugged. “Maybe.”

At that, Zoey’s stomach sank. The idea of Joan simply ignoring what had happened didn’t sit right with her. She’d seen the way the other woman had looked at her, had sensed that Joan was feeling the same tugging sensation she was feeling. For Joan to look the other way and hope that it all just went away?

“Child, are you alright?”

Mo’s voice interrupted Zoey’s thoughts and caused her to jump.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah.”

Mo gave her a knowing look, before sitting on the sofa beside Zoey. “Now, I like to think myself kind of an expert when it comes to setting people up, and you have to admit that I am good at helping you. So why don’t we talk this through? I mean, that’s your thing, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so,” Zoey admitted weakly.

“So. Let’s start with Simon.”

Zoey shrugged weakly at that, mulling over everything as she tried to put her feelings into words. “I’m... Attracted to him. I like him. He’s friendly, he makes me laugh, he gets what I’m going through with my dad...”

“But?” Mo prompted.

“But I’m not sure it goes any deeper,” Zoey realised slowly. “I mean, he kissed me and it was amazing, and he’s definitely single now he and Jessica have called off the engagement... Except, when Max walked in on us, I was more worried about checking Max was alright. I just sort of... Left Simon alone.”

“You talked to him, though,” Mo pointed out. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have kissed. And you spoke to him about the kiss afterwards.”

“Yeah, but... Max is my best friend. He’s been my best friend for years, Mo, and the thought of him hating me or not talking to me hurts.”

Mo had a knowing smile on his face. “So would you say that you’d choose Max’s friendship over Simon’s love?”

“I don’t know,” Zoey admitted then, burying her face in her hands. “Maybe?”

“So let’s move onto Maxwell then. Are you still not sure what your feelings are for him?”

Zoey said nothing, but shook her head dismally.

“Hmm, well that’s a tricky one. What do you like about him?”

“He’s loyal,” Zoey answered immediately. “We share interests even if we don’t agree on everything. He’s... He’s practically part of the family. He’s been to so many barbeques and holidays and dinners... He fits in, it’s like he belongs.”

Mo gave Zoey a pointed look. “But does he belong in the way a friend belongs, or the way a lover belongs?”

The redhead gave him a helpless look at that, and Mo took pity on her.

“I’m guessing we’re moving on to Joan?” he asked.

“I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing,” Zoey mumbled, pouting. “I think I need alcohol for this.”

Two glasses of wine later, Zoey was finally ready to begin discussing her crush on her boss.

“Well, Team Joan is a whole new team for me to get behind,” Mo shrugged, swirling wine around in his glass. “So pitch it to me.”

Zoey blinked for a moment, trying to piece together her thoughts. “Uh, she’s strong, she’s determined; she doesn’t take crap from anybody. Well, her ex, but I think that’s in the past now... When we went drinking the night of Jessica and Simon’s engagement party, she was actually really fun.” A small smile bloomed on Zoey’s face as she spoke. “I mean, she’s really funny! And she, well, she looks out for me at work. Did I tell you about the anonymous peer reviews? Well, it was a terrible idea in hindsight, we broke Leif... But Joan tried to protect me from the peer reviews because of the fact I’m the only female on the team besides her. She claimed all the comments were misogynistic and the only thing that mattered was that she thought I was doing a good job. I’m not entirely sure it was ethical to share everyone else’s results and not mine, but... It was nice that she looked out for me you know?”

Mo nodded at that, urging Zoey to continue.

“I know some of the guys at work resented me for getting the promotion over them, thought Joan was giving me preferential treatment. You know, ‘all girls together’ type thing... And when my dad had the fall, and Joan was with me, she made sure I got to the hospital. She held my hand even when I didn’t ask her to, and kept hold of it until we were in Dad’s room. She left to get coffee to sober me up, and then she split a cab back to my parents’ place and helped me get my old bed downstairs for Dad. I kept telling her she could leave, but she stayed.”

Zoey took a breath at that.

“And... She understands, Mo. Her mom died when she was around my age, she kind of gets what I’m going through with Dad. It’s why she keeps offering to help, even if I just want someone to rant to. God, you should have seen her the day my powers were freaking out. If I hadn’t sung, if I hadn’t ruined the moment... She said she was concerned about me, about the whole ‘singing to Danny Michael Davis’ thing. And she looked so concerned, so worried, more worried than if I were just an employee having a tough day. And she came and knelt down by my seat, and all I could think was ‘I could kiss you right now’...”

“Have you ever had that moment with Max or Simon?” Mo asked quietly. “That desire to just lean in and steal a kiss?”

Zoey frowned. “N-No,” she admitted softly after a long while.

“Then child, I think we may be making a breakthrough.”

Taking a moment to process that, Zoey let out a breath. “Mo, what if Joan wants to just ignore the whole singing thing happened? What if she doesn’t want anything to happen between us?”

“I don’t know,” Mo answered quietly. He thought for a moment. “Say you were to date Joan. How serious about that are you?”

At that, Zoey’s eyes went wide and she spluttered. “D-Date Joan? But I don’t date girls!”

Mo arched an eyebrow. “Girl, you just sat here going on and on about how amazing your boss is, and I could tell by the tone of your voice that there is something there. You like her. You have feelings for her. You’re worrying about her rejecting you. Maybe it’s too early to call it love, but you can’t deny that what is between you isn’t platonic.”

He paused then, giving the redhead a chance to digest what he’d just said.

“Now, I am not going to sit here and tell you that you are bisexual, or pansexual, or anything else. You don’t have to name it if you don’t want to, and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. But Zoey, are you really hung up on the idea of dating women?”

Zoey flushed and gave an uncomfortable shrug. “I don’t know. I... I never really thought about it. It’s always been in my head that I’m a woman, so I date men.” She frowned to herself. “I’m not sure why that is, though.”

“The media, poor education, homophobia, peer pressure, biphobia... I could go on,” Mo answered sarcastically.

“What I mean is, my parents never forced that idea on me, at least not that I remember. All they ever wanted was for me and David to be happy. They probably wouldn’t have even cared if I’d dated a girl. And... and there were a few girls. Girls I thought were cute, or pretty. I could never really put my finger on what I was feeling, though, so I brushed it off. And now with Joan, well...” She trailed off and shook her head.

“You know,” Mo said, “it sounds like you really, really like Joan. And that’s ok, Zoey. There’s nothing wrong with it, no matter what people say.”

“But what if Joan doesn’t like me back? What if Joan only likes men?” Zoey knew she sounded anxious, but she couldn’t help it.

It was Mo’s turn to shrug then. “All you can do is ask. You have to take that leap, Zoey. But let me just say this...” He set his wine glass down and turned to face Zoey more fully. “We have spent more time discussing Joan and your feelings for her than we have spent on both Max and Simon combined. I think you have to take a chance and go for Joan. Which brings me back to my earlier question: how serious are you about dating her?”

“If she says yes?” Zoey asked. “Very serious. Like, seriously serious.”

“Ok,” Mo said, “then we need to figure out just how to explain your powers to your lovely lady friend. Because this relationship is not going to work if you keep it a secret.”

Zoey deflated. “Or Joan will think I’m mad and have me carted off to a hospital for loads of tests.”

“Zoey, can you really be in a relationship with someone and keep such a massive secret? And what if Joan were to find out? Do you remember how Max took it? He felt betrayed, because you were privy to a part of his life without his consent or knowledge, and he felt like he was at odds with you. How did you fix it?”

“I promised to be more open with him,” Zoey recalled, eyes going wide as she pieced everything together.

“Exactly. And don’t you think Joan deserves the same? She needs to understand what a relationship with you means. Your powers may be fascinating, but they can also be alienating, and if Joan found out you were keeping something like this from her, how do you think she’d feel?”

Zoey sighed. “So now I have to explain to her how I meddled in her marriage? And why I zone out at random times, and why I danced on a table in front of our CEO?”

“Honey, if you want this relationship to have any chance of working, you and I had better come up with a plan.” Mo picked up his wine glass and downed the rest of its contents. “Now, let’s get to work!”

Talking to Joan seemed like a simple idea. A simple idea that had very rapidly been sidetracked. Her parents’ anniversary looked like it would be a disaster. Zoey had yelled at Howie and made a maître d’ cry. Almost every single one of her relationships was falling apart at the seams. Max had taken a job with Ava Price on the sixth floor, after Zoey failed to give him the ‘correct’ answer to his question. She still didn’t know what the correct answer was, if it wasn’t that she didn’t want to stand in the way of his career. Was she supposed to kick and scream? To deny him an amazing opportunity leading a team just so he’d stay at the desk opposite hers? She knew he was still clinging to the song she’d sung him, still clinging to the chance they could be together. But if her talk with Joan went smoothly... Well, Max was going to be disappointed.

The ‘Max-retrieval mission’, as Tobin had dubbed it, had ended badly. Joan was in a worse mood than ever and now they were stuck in a bake-off with the traitor and the sixth floor. And things got even worse when Zoey entered Joan’s office to find Leif seemingly begging Joan about something.

“I said no, Leif. Now get back to work.”

“It’s just one drink,” Leif said with a frown, trying to sound sincere. “I thought we could go over some things for the Chirp-”

“That’s what Zoey’s for,” Joan interrupted firmly, nodding to Zoey in the doorway. “Now please leave, and I don’t want you asking me out for drinks again. It’s inappropriate.”

Leif glanced at Zoey with a frown before looking back to Joan. “You went drinking with Zoey the night of Simon’s party,” he reminded her. “The pair of you showed up drunk. You left together, too.”

Joan arched an eyebrow at him. “Zoey and I are friends, Leif. We were off the clock. You are in my office trying to coerce me into going to a bar with you to discuss a project we could discuss here during work hours.”

Deflating, Leif let out a breath. “Fine. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

The two women watched him leave.

“Wow,” Zoey said, moving further into the office. “What was that about?”

Joan looked a little uncomfortable. “I think I gave him the wrong idea at Simon’s engagement party,” she admitted, glancing over to Leif’s workstation as she spoke. “I was drunk, he was tipsy, he pitched the Chirp to me and we batted around a few ideas, and now he thinks it’s our thing. Like we’re going to keep having secret Chirp meetings while sipping cocktails at a bar.” She shook her head. “I feel kind of bad. I’m pretty certain he has a crush on me.”

A wave of jealousy swept through Zoey then, and she tamped it down.

Joan frowned, looked to Zoey. “I wasn’t too hard on him, was I? I don’t want to be, but it’s best to nip these things in the bud. Dating a subordinate? So not a good idea...”

“Because of the bake-off, right?” Zoey clarified slowly. “I mean, we don’t want to give Ava any more ammunition...”

“Sure, I suppose so. But these things are never a good idea, even without a bake-off going on,” Joan said. But her voice was a little off, a little distracted, and Zoey realised with a lurch that Joan was staring at her lips.

“Never a good idea,” Zoey echoed, now staring at Joan’s lips in response. “Human resources, and all that. Inappropriate workplace romances, bosses playing favourites... All very bad.”

“Very bad,” Joan affirmed.

Neither of them could take their eyes off the other’s lips. Then, Joan seemed to shake herself.

“So, uh, Zoey... Was there anything you wanted?”

Zoey had really intended to just give Joan an update on the Chirp, now uncertain about having ‘the talk’ with her boss after what they’d just discussed. But it seemed like her brain had disengaged from her mouth.

“I’m fighting with basically everyone in my life, I hate Max for moving to the sixth floor, I yelled at my dad’s caregiver, and I made a maître d’ cry. It’s been a really crappy few days, and all I want right now is to kiss you.”

Joan blinked. “Zoey...” she began hesitantly.

“And I know, this is wildly inappropriate, and also Leif’s still watching us from his desk, but I can’t help it. I feel like there’s something between us, something I can’t ignore...” Zoey took a breath. “If you don’t feel it, then I’ll leave you alone. But I have to know how you feel.”

The other woman swallowed, and was silent for several long moments. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” she said after a long while. “I’m your boss.” She stood.

“You are,” Zoey agreed.

Joan rounded the desk, never taking her eyes off the redhead. “Like I said, it’s always best to nip these things in the bud.”

Zoey nodded seriously. “Right.”

Joan came to a stop in front of Zoey then, staring down at the younger woman. “But...”

“But?”

A cautious smile was on Joan’s lips, and the vulnerability in her eyes made Zoey’s heart stop.

“But I don’t want to.”

A smile blossomed across Zoey’s face then, before she realised the conversation they had to have. “In that case, there’s something I need to tell you...”

They took shelter in the ladies’ toilets. With Tobin and Leif watching them suspiciously, it seemed like the best place. Besides, that way nobody was likely to walk in in the middle of the conversation.

“This seems a bit ominous,” Joan said as she looked around the bathroom. “Secret meetings don’t tend to mean good things, you know.”

“I know,” Zoey acknowledged with a wince. “But I didn’t want us to be interrupted.”

Nodding her understanding, Joan folded her arms across her chest. She looked anxious, and Zoey couldn’t blame her.

“So, uh, we need to talk about... Well, about me,” Zoey began cautiously. “About why I get so distracted at times, or, or sing to Danny Michael Davis.” At Joan’s confused look, she took a breath and ploughed on. “A few months ago, I kept getting these headaches, and I was worried I had what my dad has. So I went and had an MRI done, and while I was having an MRI, an earthquake hit, and when I came out I could hear people singing. Like, singing what they were thinking.”

There was a lengthy pause then, as she looked to the brunette to gage her reaction. For Joan’s part, her expression was only that of mild surprise.

“You... Have superpowers? Is that what you’re telling me?” Joan asked sceptically.

“I can’t explain it, but both Mo and Max know about it. And my dad, but I’d recommend speaking to Mo or Max if you speak to anyone.” Zoey shifted uncomfortably under Joan’s gaze. “I’m telling you this because if we’re doing... This,” she gestured between them, “then you have to know about it.”

Joan stared at the floor for a moment, collecting her thoughts, before looking up again. Her expression was now one of concern and perhaps a hint of fear. “Zoey, I know you’ve been under a lot of stress recently, and maybe it would be a good idea for you to take some time off?”

“No! No, I don’t need time off! Joan, I’m telling the truth!”

The brunette let out a small, uncertain laugh at that. “Zoey, honey, you’re telling me you can read people’s minds!”

“I can’t,” Zoey protested. “I can only hear them sing, and it’s not all the time. I only hear the songs when I’m meant to help. Uh, I heard Simon sing Mad World when he first started working here, and that’s why I spoke to him. I could tell something was wrong. I heard Max singing love songs to me! When Danny Michael Davis was here, I sang Pressure because my powers were trying to tell me I had to help myself! I’d just found out Dad was dying sooner rather than later, and then Danny Michael Davis showed up unexpectedly and it was all too much!”

Joan’s cheeks flushed then, and she looked away. “You... You sang to me that day, too.”

“And Simon and Max,” Zoey added forlornly.

She hadn’t realised what she’d said until Joan’s head whipped round to her.

“What did you sing to Max and Simon, then?”

Wide-eyed, Zoey scrambled to cover. “Uh, nothing important. All very embarrassing though; I’d rather not relive it.”

Joan pursed her lips, clearly not exactly pleased with Zoey’s answer, but letting it go.

“Have... Have you ever heard me sing?”

At the older woman’s question, Zoey shrugged uncomfortably. “A few times,” she admitted slowly. “Uh, that’s how I found out you and Charlie were having problems.”

“So you helped me because you had to? Because of this mystical power you supposedly have?” Joan wouldn’t meet Zoey’s eyes as she spoke.

It broke the younger woman’s heart, and she took a moment to compose herself before answering. “At first, yes. When I first asked you about your relationship with Charlie, it was because I had tried ignoring it and I ended up being followed by the song you’d sung. But then we started talking, and then I actually met Charlie and I could see just how awful he was to you. You deserve so much better than him, Joan, and I wanted you to see that. And the more time we spent together, the more I came to realise what sort of person you are. You’re fun, you’re funny, you’re smart, you’re beautiful, you understand me...”

“As flattering as that is, Zoey, I think you can understand why I’m suddenly rethinking everything.” Joan’s voice was tight, a tinge of hurt bleeding through.

“This is why I wanted to tell you about my powers, though,” Zoey told her quietly. “I... I knew I was taking a risk telling you this, but I had a chat with my friend Mo, and we both agreed it would be wrong of me not to tell you. I... Max and I came up with a deal once I told him about my powers. Because I can hear him sing and it gives me more knowledge about him than he has about me, I promised to always be completely honest with him. An open book. It doesn’t level the playing field completely, but it’s the best we could do. If... If you still wanted to give us a chance, Joan, I promise you that I will always be an open book to you too.”

The silence then was deafening, Zoey watching the other woman carefully as Joan considered everything.

“I... I have a question,” Joan said eventually. “You said you only helped at first because your powers made it clear you had to help me. How long was it before you changed your mind?”

“I changed my mind when I saw how Charlie treated you,” Zoey answered quickly. “He was so... Rude, and, and inconsiderate, and he didn’t give a crap about your work. You work so hard here, Joan, and Charlie could barely look up from his phone for ten seconds to look at you!”

There was a small, hesitant smile on Joan’s face then, and she flushed lightly. “So how long after hearing me sing was that?”

“A day and a half, roughly,” Zoey shrugged. “And I was hesitant before because it didn’t feel right to interfere in my boss’s marriage. It’s one thing to talk to Simon about him losing his dad, it’s a whole other thing to try to discuss your boss’s sex life.”

That earned a quiet chuckle from Joan, and Zoey felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Is... Is it alright if I take some time to think about all this?” Joan asked quietly. “I just... This is a lot to take in. I mean, it’s like some sort of science fiction plot, not real life, and...”

“It’s fine,” the younger woman interrupted gently. “I get it. I’ve had a few months to get used to it now, but... Yeah. It’s a lot to get your head around.”

Joan nodded, and moved towards the door. Just as she was about to leave, she paused, and looked back to Zoey. “I’ll call you later?”

“Sounds good.” Zoey smiled softly and watched Joan walk away.

The next few days were a flurry of activity, with Leif abandoning the fourth floor to take a job with Max up on sixth. Zoey privately wondered if it had anything to do with Joan turning him down for a drink, but the buzz around her team was that he’d been lured away with the promise of a promotion in the near-future.

While she and Joan had attempted to discuss their relationship on neutral ground, the nearest bar to SPRQ Point had quickly been invaded by both Max and Leif, causing the women to abandon the conversation for another time. On the plus side, as Max had sung Bye, Bye, Bye to her, it had at least proven to Joan that she wasn’t lying about her powers.

At work, Zoey had thought it was odd that Tobin had seemed mostly unaffected by Leif’s absence, but had been too preoccupied by the bake-off to really process it. That was, of course, until Joan took Max’s desk to help with coding and the two women discovered that Leif had been funnelling code to his fellow brogrammer.

“Ugh, I’m going to kill the pair of them,” Joan muttered as she stomped into her office, after having had a secret meeting with Leif on the fifth floor. “Idiots!”

“You got them to stop though, right? I mean, Leif could get himself fired.” Zoey frowned.

Joan let out a sigh then as she sat down at her desk, and she fixed the redhead with a shy look. “We need to talk about that.”

“What? Firing Leif?” Zoey wrinkled her nose at the thought.

“No,” Joan shook her head. “We need to talk about us. I spoke to Leif, and he said he’d been funnelling code down so that we could beat Ava in the bake-off. I was right about him having a crush on me, and he seemed to think that corporate espionage was the way to win me over.” She rolled her eyes. “But that got me thinking; if anyone finds out that Leif did this for me, this could blow up into a huge HR situation. And that’s also true for me and you.”

Zoey didn’t like the sound of where the conversation was going. “Joan? What are you saying?”

The brunette stood with a sigh, and moved round to sit on the edge of her desk. “I’m saying that, if we’re going to do this, we need to keep it quiet. We can’t let it affect our work like, at all.”

The younger woman blinked as she processed what she was being told. A small smile spread across her face. “But you want to give us a chance?”

“I don’t think I have any other choice,” Joan admitted quietly. “I haven’t been able to think about anything but you since we had our talk.”

“What do we do about work, though? How long can we keep this a secret?” Zoey’s brow furrowed at the thought.

Joan shrugged. “We’ll work it out. Right now, I’m more concerned about calling off this bake-off. Leif poisoned it. There’s no way we can continue now.” She stood, gave Zoey a small smile. “But before I deal with Ava, I want to ask something. What are you doing tonight?”

Zoey blinked at the question. “Uh... Nothing?”

Joan grinned. “I’m taking you out for dinner. Shall we say eight?”

Zoey smiled back. “Can’t wait.”

#zoeys extraordinary playlist #zoey x joan #zep fic #zoey clarke #joan bennett #my fic

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saiilorstars · 4 years

Text

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 20: One, Two, Three Questions

/ Previous chapters /

Fandom: Law & Order SVU

Pairing: Rafael Barba x Original female character

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

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Chapter Summary: Rafael's mistake brings up a series of questions for both sides that neither seem willing to answer...

There wasn't really a word to describe the anger Montserrat felt. It just bubbled inside her and no matter how many times she yelled, she didn't feel better. She tried coming up with a good description to at least spat it in Rafael's face, but nothing came close. Even as he profusely apologized for letting it slip that she was thinking of transferring, the anger didn't fade. Really, however badly it sounded, she wanted to smack him. It was unprofessional, it was plain childish, but that's what she wanted to do. And maybe strangle him.

My God he frustrated her.

"Montserrat, you have to talk to me at some point, you know," Rafael was following Montserrat down the courthouse hallway. As soon as Heba's first day of trial was finished, Montserrat got up to leave...but she was stupid if she believed he would drop things like that.

"Unfortunately for work I do," the detective muttered once she pressed the elevator button. "But who knows, that might not last too long. Do you want to pass out the date of my last day too?"

"I said I was sorry. You have to believe me when I say I didn't mean to tell anyone about your transfer-"

Montserrat whirled around in a snap. "But that's just it, I don't believe you, Rafael. I've known you for months now and your mouth has never made a mistake like that. It's literally why I hate it! You always know what you're saying - that's your one, annoying talent!"

The elevator dinged as its door slid open. Before Montserrat could even think about getting in, Rafael yanked her away and brought her a couple steps away from it. "I understand what you're saying but I didn't plan it. I was…" Yup, it pained him to admit it out loud, "...upset about your behavior with me." Montserrat's face scrunched, clearly confused on what he was talking about. "I don't understand what's been going on with you and the fact you wouldn't tell me and instead got snappy with me...it got to me."

Montserrat could at least appreciate he was being honest, because she could tell how painful it was for him to admit that one. But that was it. It didn't mean she was on the forgiving phase. She'd done all the yelling possible and he'd surprisingly taken it all. But he kept coming back. "Well, it's like you said when I first started working here: I don't owe you any of my secrets."

How could Rafael say that was before he got to know her without sounding like he cared more than he ought to? Was there a way?

Montserrat shook her head. She shook his hand off her arm and walked back to the elevator. She couldn't trust herself not to shout all over again if she stayed back.

Rafael watched her go with a feeling of distraught. At what point did this happen? So what if she was angry with him? He'd pissed off more people than he could count. And at least they didn't shout in his face as bad as Montserrat had. What the hell made her so special that he'd feel the relentless urge to apologize even when it exposed him to more of her shouts?

"Hey councilor," Sonny called as he crossed the hallway. He was going to act as if he and the rest of the squad hadn't been watching that argument unfold, but he did feel the need to at least cheer one side up. "She's going to get over it, trust me. Kara says so."

"Oh great, so the roommate knows too," Rafael rolled his eyes. He started making way for the elevator as well, preferring to avoid any other sympathetic talks from the squad. "Am I the villain too?"

"No, you're the hero because Kara says she would've strangled Montserrat by now with all her yelling," Sonny said too easily and casually that it actually made Rafael smile for a bit. Alright, so maybe he could do with a talk with Kara Mackie sometime soon.

"As much as I'd love to snap back, I think this time it'll benefit me if I keep my mouth shut," Rafael pressed the elevator button. "Because every time I open it, I just anger Montserrat more. But then again, she's just so frustrating that I can't seem to actually keep quiet."

"Yeah, that's the case with women," shrugged Sonny. "But listen, I think right now it's better to give Montse some space so that she can cool down. She's not listening to anyone right now, trust me."

"I'm a little concerned that, because of it, she might make a rash decision," Rafael's admission made Sonny pause and look at him.

Sonny briefly glanced to the side to make sure no one could overhear them when he spoke again. "Hey I just have to ask, do you and Montse have, like...something going on?"

If Rafael had stiffened, one would've had to have been watching very carefully. Despite the elevator door opening, neither man stepped inside. "Absolutely not," Rafael answered a few minutes later.

"Are you sure?" Sonny knew he was getting himself into a dangerous position. "I'm not trying to pry but...I don't think I've ever seen you this…" his hand gestured to Rafael's current state as a point, "...yeah…"

"I don't appreciate this assumption, Carisi. Conversation's over," Rafael turned for the elevator, though not without giving Sonny a look indicating he was not to follow.

"Running away though…" Sonny couldn't help say just before the elevator door slid shut. He smiled to himself. Kara would love hearing this one.

~ 0 ~

There were some people Montserrat could avoid, like Rafael, but there were others that she couldn't. Those would include your boss, and since Montserrat hadn't transferred yet nor quit, she still had to follow Olivia's orders.

Right now the order was to go to Olivia's office.

Now Olivia had thought about this whole transfer thing ever since Rafael explained it to her and the others. She wanted to have the right words to say to Montserrat, but she feared that even with all her thinking and caution she would still come up short.

"Close the door, Montse," she instructed when the detective poked her head inside. "You left the courthouse pretty quick."

A low snort slipped through Montserrat's mouth. "Did you expect anything less?"

Olivia dismissed Montserrat's snap for the greater cause. "I understand you're upset-"

"-that's not the word I'd use but sure," Montserrat took the seat across the desk. "And look, whatever you want to say about it...I'd rather you didn't."

"Well, as your boss, I sort of have to talk about it," Olivia brought her hands together over the desk. "Because if you're transferring, it means I'll have to start looking for your replacement."

Montserrat knew that was true. She crossed her arms while Olivia asked the dire question.

"Are you transferring?"

"...I don't know," Montserrat answered honestly. "God, that's why I specifically told Rafael not to say anything. I'm not sure what I want to do!"

"Well, can I ask why you want to transfer?"

"Honestly?" Montserrat leaned closer to the desk to look Olivia in the eyes. "Because of what you said."

Olivia blinked in shock. "What I said? What did I say?"

"You reminded me that I work at SVU where it's my job to help victims come forwards. How could I work here when I myself am not coming forward?"

Olivia's mouth opened several times, but each time that she did the words didn't come out. She felt a rush of guilt, though. She was the cause of all this mess?

"I'm not blaming you, Liv," Montserrat said once she caught Olivia's reactions. "It just sort of made me think."

"That...that was not my intention, Montse," Olivia shook her head. "I...I only meant that working here should be an inspiration to you. In no way did I ever mean that you shouldn't work here. Every victim handles their pain in a different way."

Montserrat paused to let the 'victim' part sink in. She never called herself that, and for some reason it didn't feel right. Perhaps it was because it brought back the memories she wanted to forget forever. "I'm just not sure what I'm doing, Liv. And it definitely doesn't help when the squad keeps giving me these looks."

"They're just confused about what's going on," Olivia said.

"Well I'm not explaining to them why I'd like to transfer," Montserrat frowned. "I just wish Rafael had kept his mouth shut like I asked him to. At least then I'd be able to think without pressure."

"There's no pressure from my end, Montserrat," Olivia clarified. "You can take as much time as you need to think about this. But, if I may, I think transferring out of the squad isn't the answer. It's really more of a way to run away."

Montserrat sighed. "I know. But I really have no idea what I'm doing here. I'd just like to see my options."

"That's fair," nodded Olivia. "And again, if you need to talk again…"

"Thanks," Montserrat smiled weakly. She pushed herself up from her chair and headed for the door, only stopping when Olivia called.

"And you know, for what it's worth, Rafael really is very sorry about it," Olivia's smile was an odd one, a knowing one, and it made Montserrat's face warm up.

"...good for him," Montserrat said quietly before leaving the office.

~ 0 ~

Kara lowered her newspaper to reveal a scrunched up, disgusted face. "This can't be true, is it?"

Montserrat, who sat on the other couch with her laptop, briefly looked up from her screen to see the headline being one of Jimmy MacArthur. Her eyes rolling was now an automatic response whenever it came to that man. "Course not. I don't know why you're reading that trash."

"Well, since you haven't gone back to the courthouse anymore, where else am I supposed to get my information?" she turned the page of her newspaper. "Sonny only tells me so much."

"It's all trash, okay? Heba's saying the truth, the men are not. Shocker," Montserrat's curtness was honestly getting tiring for Kara.

"Can't help but feel like you're saying that due to someone…" Kara briefly smiled but Montserrat outright ignored her in favor of her computer.

Even when someone knocked on their door, Montserrat continued like nothing. Kara rolled her eyes and got up to go answer. She was relieved to find Sonny on the other side, because she was dying without conversation from Montserrat.

"I thought you might like some dinner," Sonny raised the take out bags in his hands. "And I bought for three," he said as he eyed the back of Montserrat's head. The ginger wasn't really giving him the time of day.

"I'm good, thanks," she at least muttered a few seconds later.

"Thanks Sonny, we appreciate it," Kara threw a disapproving look in Montserrat's way, but the ginger missed it.

As Kara brought the bags to the kitchen table, Sonny made his way up to the back of Montserrat's seat and was able to see her computer screen. "Those are the transfer openings then?"

Montserrat instinctively shut her laptop and looked up at the man with a frown. "You know, being nosy is exactly how Rafael got on my bad side. You want to follow? Cos I definitely have more to scream."

Sonny made a face but raised his hands to show he came in peace. From the kitchen, Kara called out to Montserrat. "Don't be mean to my boyfriend just because you're mad with yours!"

Montserrat sucked in a deep breath while her fingers did some sort of dance in the air, as if she were getting ready to strangle someone. However, that didn't stop Kara from continuing on with her game. She came back to the living room with a Chinese take-out box for herself and Sonny.

"This entire thing is ridiculous," Kara planted herself next to Sonny. "And because of it, I'm paying for it right here."

"And us at work," Sonny decided to add.

Montserrat merely opened her laptop again. "Maybe keep your mouths shut, then."

"Look Montse, it does seem like Rafael made an honest mistake," Sonny said, and would go on despite the glare Montserrat was fixating on him. "He's sorry-"

"-that's what everyone says but I just don't buy it!" she snapped. "He always knows what to say and you honestly expect me to believe he didn't tell you guys about the transfer on purpose?"

"What would he gain, Montse?" Sonny asked ever-so-calmly, because the moment he argued he would lose her.

"Her presence," they heard Kara mumble before taking in some rice. Sonny elbowed her on the side. "What!?"

Montserrat shook her head. "He's just so frustrating!"

"Funny, that's what he said about you too," Sonny said.

"Well he is!" Montserrat scowled. "I asked him not to say anything and what does he do? And then he won't leave me alone! God, it's like I'm literally saying I'll strangle him and yet he keeps coming back!"

"He's trying to apologize, Montse," Sonny pointed out, not that she cared for at the moment. "And to be fair, if he hadn't apologized you would be mad about that too." See there, Montserrat had to stay quiet because she knew that he was right. If Rafael hadn't at least attempted to apologize, she'd be furious too. "But even though he's actually doing it, you reject it. And that's frustrating too, according to him."

Kara groaned loudly and settled an irritated look at the two of them. "You two are idiots," she first announced then placed her take-out box on the coffee table. "And you two-" she pointed at Montserrat, indicating she was now talking about her and Rafael, "-are also idiots. Do you know why you're so frustrated with him? And why he's so frustrated with you? It's tension! It's all pent-up tension that won't disappear until you two get a room. Literally!"

It was scary how quiet Montserrat was when she slammed her laptop shut again. Sonny expected an explosion of some sort, but instead Montserrat just glared at her roommate. Perhaps it was just another thing that proved Kara was right.

"You're not funny."

"Good, I wasn't trying to be," Kara completely missed the part where she should take it slowly. "You two are grown adults. You're at that point in your life where it's okay to have a one night stand. And I know that you've thought about it too."

Now Sonny really waited for that explosion. He even shut his eyes for it.

But once again, Montserrat was eerily silent. It was a terrifying silence. "Stop saying stupid stuff," she said slowly.

"Bet you can't say that 10 times fast."

The noise Montserrat made afterwards was not pretty. She got up from her seat, almost jumped up, to argue. "You're not helping me, Kara! God, I'm so confused and instead of being my best friend and helping me you're out here saying stupid things!"

"Oh sweetie," Kara shook her head. "I am helping you, but you're not listening. What is it? You've had boyfriends before-"

Montserrat visibly shook with anger. Her body actually trembled with the fury she felt. For a second, Sonny feared for Kara's life. "-would you stop saying that!? I'm not interested in relationships so just drop it!" She grabbed her laptop and storm towards her bedroom.

Once the door slammed, Sonny felt free (and safe) to talk. "Do you really think that's the way to help her?"

Kara shrugged, clearly not feeling the least bit guilty. She grabbed her takeout box and continued to eat like nothing. "When you've known Montserrat for as long as I have, you get to know what ways work best. And I am telling you that she has some feelings she needs to work out. Poor woman is going to lose it if she doesn't do something."

"Are you sure that's the case here?"

Kara paused just as she was about to deliver more rice to her mouth. Her eyes studied Sonny's face for a full minute, and the strength of it actually made Sonny squirm. "What do you know, Dominick?"

His actual name. That's how he knew she was completely serious and it was the type of seriousness that usually got him in trouble. "Nothing…"

"Mhm, try again. Is it about this problem?"

"...maybe…"

"Spill," Kara pointed at him.

"I...agree with you," Sonny raised a finger to make sure she didn't get ahead of yourself. "I spoke to Rafael and he pretty much said the same as Montse. I think, like her, he's...sort of in denial."

A sarcastic, soft smile spread across Kara's face. "Oh sweetie, it took you that long? Maybe I should be the detective."

Sonny rolled his eyes at her. "I do believe he's sorry about the secret. He didn't mean to do it."

"Oh, I believe that he believes he didn't mean to do it."

Sonny now was the one to give Kara a look. "What?"

Kara made a low noise. "Seriously, just give me your badge right now. I believe that Rafael believes he didn't mean to spill about Montserrat's transfer. However, I think he subconsciously did it on purpose."

Sonny stared at her as if she were going to say it was a joke but when she didn't, he shook his head at her and frowned. "Wait, what!?"

"I think he was so upset that, somewhere deep down, he told you guys as a cry for help." Kara said it so simply as if this were something so obvious it should've been noticed way earlier. "He doesn't strike me as the type to openly say 'help me'."

"I...will give you that one," Sonny had to concede. Maybe Kara was right. Rafael would never openly ask for help if it dealt with Montserrat. A few days ago it took Rafael a whole story just to get him to find Montserrat for him.

Kara started smirking suddenly. "But maybe we can help them out."

"See, I know you're trying to help but I think-"

"Shh!" Kara waved a hand for him to be quiet. "You talk to Rafael and tell him exactly what I said, but, you know, make it sound like it came from your brain and not mine. I think it would piss him off if he knew we talked about him."

"He already knows you talk about him."

Kara glared at Sonny. "Seriously, maybe just become a lawyer already and give me your badge."

"I don't see how we could help, Kara. They're both in denial and, honestly, Montserrat is way too angry to listen even if Rafael decided to try to talk to her again."

"And I guess I have to give you that," Kara sighed. "But still, maybe if you make him realize what he did, it could help in some way. It's better than doing nothing, right?"

"I...guess…" Sonny was now mentally preparing himself for a shouting from his dear colleague.

"And I'd get it done preferably before this weekend as it is Montse's birthday."

~ 0 ~

The first thing Dr. Weslin noticed about her patient was the relentless picking of the fingernails. Montserrat's nervous habits were back in town and this time it seemed like things were worse. So, Montserrat told Weslin about everything. It was done in a series of rambles only interrupted by Weslin asking her to calm down.

"So, you're angry…" Weslin purposely trailed off as she saw Montserrat immediately opening her mouth to argue the contrary.

"I'm not angry I'm…" but Montserrat had trouble putting her thoughts into actual words. After all the screaming she'd done, she didn't know where her thoughts were. "I'm upset that Rafael told everyone but then at the same time I'm...relieved? If that makes sense?"

"You certainly have the floor to explain," Weslin reminded.

"Everyone thinks I'm pissed because Rafael spilled my secret but...I think I may be mad at myself that...I wasn't brave enough to do it myself. And, you know, maybe it hasn't helped that I've been yelling at everyone that I'm angry with Rafael but...you know." Montserrat brought her hands to her curly hair. "I'm a mess and anyone who comes in contact with me...God help them."

"You're confused, which is completely understandable," Weslin said as a means to lessen Montserrat's stress. "And I think your friends might understand you better if you put an effort into less screaming and more talking."

"Easier said than done, especially when people just outright frustrate you," Montserrat pursed her lips. "Kara, my best friend, seems to have it in her head that the reason I'm specifically so upset with Rafael is because I...because...because there are some feelings in the mix."

Weslin took that admission as something noteworthy. It was rare when Montserrat talked about personal relationships. She'd been seeing Montserrat for almost a full year now and it was only now that Montserrat even mentioned something romantic-related. The fact Montserrat was choosing now to start was a small milestone for her, indicating that - somewhere deep inside - Montserrat was getting ready to start even considering relationships.

"And what was your reaction to this idea?" asked Weslin.

"Well I first snapped at Kara," Montserrat said quickly but after getting a look from Weslin she took it more serious and expanded. "I mean…" she closed her mouth and tilted her head to one side, "Okay, Rafael is attractive but that's it. I don't think I'm ready for any of that stuff. And I most certainly do not like the fact Kara uses this idea every time I have a problem with him."

"Okay," Weslin nodded. "But you can't also be so defensive about it either. Sit down with Kara and explain to her that you simply do not have those feelings she claims you have."

"Well...yeah…that would...be the obvious choice..." Montserrat looked unsure and Weslin dared to think this whole 'idea' of Kara's might not be entirely wrong.

"But…?"

Montserrat seemed to have caught herself and shook her head. She straightened herself up in her seat and shrugged. "Nothing. I just need to figure out what the hell I'm going to do about this transfer thing."

"May I make a suggestion?"

Montserrat nodded.

"Try to imagine a workspace without your current co-workers. Imagine yourself a new partner, a new boss, a new ADA. And then think if you would be happier there...or in SVU."

Montserrat nodded again with the intention of following through with it. All she'd done so far was only search for new openings in different divisions, but she'd never actually sat down and really thought about what a new workplace would be like. Would her co-workers be like what she now had in SVU? Would they like her? Treat her nice? Or would they treat her as a rookie? Someone who didn't have a place?

#ocapp #svu fics #rafael barba fics #svu imagines #rafael barba imagines #svu #rafael barba #svu imagine #oc: Montserrat Novak #fic: dare to forget me

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