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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

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Anything But Normal

A/n: this was such cute Idea I hope I did it justice. It’s been a while since I’ve written a comedy piece. There are probably spelling errors I’ll go back and fix them later. also I love Jon Favreau as Happy so I had to put him in. (i swear he is one of my favorite actors) btw this is not edited (i’ll come back and do that eventually)

Requested by: @tokiokiedokie

Warnings: Cussing,(come on it's me guys), partial nudity.

Member: Han Jisung

Summary: When Y/n’s best friend goes through a drastic change he starts keeping secrets. Secrets that include him being New York’s one and only friendly neighborhood spiderman. Shit hits the fan when his new secret life is exposed and she gets dragged into it.

Genre: Spiderman!au, romance, comedy, friends to lovers!au, little bit of angst

There are only three things that truly matter in life. Good friends, good pizza, and a good story. So far I had two of those at the moment. Sadly I was lacking a good story. Our school newspaper had been quite dry despite my efforts to discover new and intriguing stories.

“Stop sulking and eat.” My best friend said, shoving a piece of cheese pizza in my face. Jisung laughed when I bit the end before returning to look at my laptop. We were at our usual pizza place seated next to the window with the big bright red neon sign lighting up our faces. The sun set over the New York skyline making the moment almost perfect. If only I was writing an exciting article. Instead, I was putting together a riveting look into the school’s menu changes.

“You know I invited you because I thought you were going to be good company.”

“Please. You invited me because Felix was busy with a stupid Lego project and no one else will eat pizza with you.”

“Whatever.”

Jisung and I weren’t the most popular people in our senior class. To be frank, Jisung was my only friend. So going out and eating pizza every other day at ten o’clock at night was often the highlight of my week. Having had enough of the lack of attention Jisung slammed my laptop closed and removed it from the already small table. “Hey! I didn’t save!”

“That’s what Google Docs is for.”

He was right. I needed to stop working. I had been slaving over that stupid and boring article all week. He didn’t have to be such an ass though. “You are such a teenager.” I scoffed, watching him shovel yet another slice of pizza down his throat. “Oh, and you are such an adult!” The mocking tone of his voice threatened a laugh.

“I swear you are God’s punishment for enjoying sex. Everyone’s libido just disappears when you are around.”

“Hey don’t ruin our date. I was considering sleeping with you tonight.”

He laughed when I threatened to smack him. It had been like this for as long as I could remember. Just me and Jisung. My parents had been friends with his before they passed away in a car accident. Now Jisung lived with his Aunt May and his Uncle Ben a few blocks away from me.

I remember after the crash I would wake to a tap on my window to see an eight year old Jisung on my fire escape. Not wanting to bother his Aunt with his nightmares, Jisung had run all the way to my apartment and climbed the fire escape to my room on the sixth floor. I would open the window and let him sleep in my bed. My eight year old brain used to think maybe my bed was like force field keeping away the bad dreams about his parents.

“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow?” Jisung asked bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Mr. Finoli asked me to take pictures of the science field trip so I’m going with you guys. Why?” A look of realization crossed Jisung’s face making him freeze. “Did you forget to ask May to sign your permission slip?”

“I forgot to ask May to sign my-...you can be a real ass sometimes, you know that?”

Laughing I pulled a ten out of my wallet and left it on the table. “Come on, you’ve gotta get your slip signed, dummy.” “I can pay, it’s no problem.” He said watching me pack up my stuff. “Nah, you can get the next one.” Bellies full of pizza, we left Tony’s Pizzeria and headed in the direction of Jisung’s apartment, his arm draped over my shoulder and talking my ear off about some random experiment they had done in Physics that day.

The next day I woke up bright and early to meet the class at the New York Museum of Science. Camera bag on my shoulder and camera around my neck I stood outside the museum with about ten other students and two teachers. My tired eyes brightened when I saw Jisung step out from the subway, May right behind him.

I laughed as he wiped a kiss from his cheek before waving goodbye to her. His dyed blonde hair was messy and blew slightly in the wind. Jisung waved when he saw me and jogged over. His hoodie lazily hung off his shoulder and his shirt and jeans were somewhat wrinkled. “Don’t you look nice?” I couldn’t help but chuckle at his appearance.

“Shut up.”

He laughed throwing an arm around my shoulder, leading me closer to the group. Soon the tour began and I busied myself with taking photos of the group for the paper and yearbook. Jisung followed the group, only half-listening to the teacher as he looked at other random exhibits.

At around one in the afternoon, the group moved outside to have lunch on the steps. I sat off to the side with Jisung, his legs spread out across the stairs and his elbow rested on the step above us. It was refreshing to be next to him talking about absolutely nothing. Even if he stole my food.

Eventually, we were all called back to resume the tour. I angled a shot of two students looking at a bug exhibit, but just as I took the picture Jisung jumped in the frame throwing up a peace sign and crossing his eyes. “Hey! Stop hitting me!” He yelled as I smacked his shoulder over and over again. “Look I’m just innocently observing the exhibit. Leave me alone crazy woman!”

Sighing, I pushed him away and resumed taking photos. As the group was moving onto the next room I noticed Jisung was missing. It wasn’t unlike him to wander off into a room he wasn’t supposed to just to look at probably like some DNA model or some other weird science shit. I could never get over the fact Jisung was super into science when he gave zero fucks about his other classes.

“Jisung?”

“Ji?”

“Ji, we are moving on,” I said looking for him. My eyes landed on a semi-open door marked ‘Lab’. He wouldn’t. He did. Just as I started to walk towards the door, he exited with a goofy smile on his face. “Y/n! Dude, they have all these cool spiders and test tubes in there it was so cool! One of them bit me!” Like an excited three-year-old, he showed me his wrist where he indeed had a red spider bite.

“Ooooooh! Take a picture!”

He shoved my camera into my hands and held up his arm pointing to the spider bite making the dopiest smile. Knowing he wouldn’t shut up until I complied, I took the picture.

“Let’s catch up with the group,” I said taking his hand and dragging him back to the class. When we reached the group a teacher looked over at us his brows furrowing. “Excuse me, Miss L/n, is your friend okay?” He pointed to Jisung, a concerned expression on his face.

“Jisung? There are certainly things wrong with him but he’s oka-”

My words stopped when I turned to look at my best friend next to me. “Ji- Oh my god! Ji are you okay?” His face had obviously paled and he looked dizzy. A thin layer of sweat lay on his forehead.

“Hell yeah. I’m doing fine, baby.” His voice sounded drowsy.

“Miss L/n he is not alright. Does he have anyone who can come get him.” The teacher said pulling out his phone. I shook my head. May worked in the day and his Uncle Ben was on a business trip. “No, they are working.”

He sighed and turned to me. Jisung was clearly getting worse by the second and was wobbling a little. “What about you? Can you take him home?” Jisung laughed and wrapped his arms around me loosely. “Fuck yeah, I’d her take me home.”

“I have a test in my last period.”

“I’ll write you a pass and send it to your teacher. Take him home please.”

Nodding he typed something on his phone and returned to the group who had started to move once again. “Okay Ji, let’s get you back to May’s.” Slowly we started moving to the exit. Before we made it to the doors, Jisung practically turned green. He pushed away from me and burst towards the nearest restroom.

“Jisung!”

Ignoring the looks and yells I followed Jisung into the restroom and looked for the stall he was in. “Hey, lady get out of here!” A man standing at the urinal screamed.

“Oh please. Get over yourself.”

“Ji?”

Following the coughing and gagging sounds, I pushed the final stall door open. Jisung sat on the floor his mop of blonde hair hanging over the toilet. I crouched next to him and rubbed his back gently. “Oh god, I hate puking.”

“Jisung everyone hates puking.”

“Yeah well.....your face likes puking.”

“Nice comeback.”

Feeling too terrible to respond, he just threw up the contents of his stomach again. When he seemed able to stand the two of us made our way outside and down the subway. Jisung leaned most of his weight on me as I slid my metro pass through the scanner. How I managed to get him through the turnstile and onto the metro I have no clue. Thankfully there was once last seat free for Jisung to sit down in.

“Y/n, I don’t feel good.”

“I know,” I said softly as he rested his head against my stomach. The train turned sharply making me hold onto the strap, not wanting to fall into Jisung. Soft whines and groans came from him every now and then. This was the worst I had ever seen Jisung.

I listened to the stations being called out as I ran my fingers through his hair, hoping that would calm him down a little. We were only four stops away but more people were getting on the train. Jisung looked up at me a sick expression on his face. It changed when he looked at the passengers boarding the car.

“Here, Ma’am. You can take my seat.”

“Thank you so much, young man.” An older woman said taking his seat as he got up. “Jisung, you feel terrible. Are you okay to stand?” He shrugged latching onto the strap next to mine, his face paling again. “I’ll be fine, it’s only four stops.”

Jisung’s eyes started to droop as the train started up again. His body began to act heavier than it was so he resorted to leaning on me and nestling his head between my neck and shoulder. I did my best to make sure he didn’t fall over.

“You two are very cute together.” The old lady said with a smile.

“Oh- we aren’t--”

“You better hold onto a good man like that, sweetie. Handsome and kind. Those are hard to come by.”

Before I could respond we turned again, and I had to keep Jisung from falling in this poor nice old lady’s lap. I felt his skin burning against mine. Could this train not go any faster. Soon enough our stop came. I said bye to the old woman and helped Jisung get off the train and up the subway stairs.

“Come on, Ji. We are almost there and we both know I cannot carry your ass.”

Eventually, I made it up the stairs of his apartment building to the fourth floor and managed to drag him to his door. “Jisung, where’s your key?” Trying not to hurt his head I propped him up on the door frame. He laughed when I started searching through his pockets.

“Y/n if you wanted to cop a feel just ask. That tickles.”

“Jisung where are your fucking keys?”

“Back pocket.” He said drowsily. I sighed and reached behind him. My hands searched through his jean pockets for the cold metal keys. “Having fun back there, because I’m sure enjoying it.”

I suppressed the urge to punch him in the stomach out of fear he would vomit all over me. Finally finding his keys, I unlocked the door and threw my stuff inside, before lugging him in as well. Jisung leaned on the couch while I put my stuff on the table.

“Y/n it’s burning up in here.”

“Jisung, you just have a temperature.”

“It burns like fucking hell! It’s too hot!”

Before I could stop him Jisung was shedding layers like a snake. He tossed his shirt somewhere in the small living room. He was sweating like crazy, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Ji, come on let’s get you in the shower.” I started running a cold shower for him before rushing back to the living room to call May. It would only be a couple hours until she got home, but I should still let her know what’s going on.

While Jisung was in the shower, I grabbed some medicine from the cabinet. I had absolutely no fucking idea how to treat a spider bite. Antibiotics? Hearing the shower turn off I knocked before entering. Jisung had a towel wrapped around his waist and was leaning his head against the wall. “Y/n...”

“I’m right here, Jisung.” Cautiously I led him to his room and watched him collapse onto his double bed. Rummaging through his drawers I found some mostly clean sweatpants. “Ji, do you even do laundry?”

“Y/n, I feel a little too fucking sick to do chores now.”

“I know. I know.” He slipped on the sweatpants and let me dry his hair. I wrapped his arms, covering the bite so it wouldn’t get more infected then it already probably was. Jisung’s temperature flipped like crazy. One minute he was burning up and the next he was freezing.

A sigh of relief left my chest when I heard May call out in the apartment. “Y/n thank you so much for taking care of him.” She gave me a short hug before running to go get more meds. She would know better than I would, being an ER nurse. “Ji, do you want me to stay? I can call my parents and tell them I’m staying the night.” He slowly shook his head.

“No, it’s okay.”

“I can stay really-”

“Y/n, I’ll be fine. You can go home.”

He gave me a half-assed smile and squeezed my hand. There was no arguing with Jisung sick or not so I gathered my things and left. May promised to keep me updated and I told her I would have my phone next to me.

The walk back to my apartment seemed longer than usual. I couldn’t stop thinking about Jisung. When I got home, my parents greeted me before telling me they would be working tonight. My dad was a cop and my mom worked at a hospital downtown. It was rare they were even home, to begin with. Exhausted from taking care of Jisung, I rolled onto my bed and fell asleep.

This boy really texted me at five the morning telling me to meet him at his locker three hours later. If he wasn’t still sick I would for sure have throttled him. Except for the fact that Jisung didn’t look sick. Not at all. He looked perfectly healthy as he walked down the hall towards me. In fact, he looked...really....good. It pissed me off.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sick?”

“Yeah, I got better.”

Jisung opened his locker like it was any other day and got his books. “What did you want to talk about?” He sighed and looked over at me. There was something different about him. Did his jaw always look like that? No. No jaw looks like that.

“So this morning I woke up and like I felt completely fine. In fact, I felt the best I have in years. And this weird thing happened to me on the subway-”

Jisung’s words were interrupted by the sound of his locker closing, only the entire row of metal lockers rattled as his shut. “The fuck? Did we have an earthquake or something?” I asked looking around. “What? No. New York isn’t on a fault line.” Shrugging it off I turned back to Jisung.

“You were saying?” He seemed distracted now, looking at his closed locker. “Ummm.... I wanted to thank you for yesterday.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. “Ji, you don’t need to thank me. I’ll always take care of you if you need me.” As I pulled away his hands stayed on my waist, which wasn’t totally out of the norm. Jisung was always a really touchy and flirty person. It drove me crazy sometimes, knowing that it was just his personality and not him acting on something else.

“So this weird thing happened on my way to school this morning. My hand-” Again Jisung was interrupted. This time by the bell ringing for homeroom. “Hey Jisung, I’ve gotta go, but you can tell me at lunch right?” He nodded, his expression becoming more uneasy. As I turned his grip on my waist stopped me.

“Ji, I know you wanna tell me now but I have to go!” I said with a laugh. A nervous breathy laugh escaped his lips as he tried to pull away from me. “Well, you know how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you.” Arching an eyebrow I chose to ignore his weird behavior and walked off to my homeroom.

When the lunch bell finally rang I took my food outside to where Ji and I normally ate. However, he was nowhere in sight. As if he could read my thoughts, my phone notified me of a text from Jisung.

Lix asked me to help him with some Chem work. Sry I can’t eat with you :(

I sent him a quick reply saying it was okay. It wasn’t the first time I had eaten alone and it surely wouldn’t be the last. To no surprise, Chaeyoung and one of her friends walked by. “Have you seen that kid? What’s his name? Jihyun?” She said in her shrill voice. It was hard not to hear her conversation even from twenty feet away.

“No, I think his name is Jisung. Han Jisung. He is in my physics class. Kind of a dweeb if you ask me.”

“Well, that dweeb filled out. He was probably just a late bloomer, but like all of a sudden, he got really hot. Have you seen his arms and his chest? Oh my god! A girl could die.”

The girls laughed and continued to objectify my best friend. They were right. Jisung had seemed to have had a huge glow up overnight. His lanky form did seem more toned and his arms were much more muscular than I remembered.

“Can you believe he still hangs out with that new junkie girl? Like, please. He could get any girl he wants now. Why stay friends with that waste of space?”

“That bitch is so full of herself. Literally, no one even likes her.” Chaeyoung said laughing. Having heard enough, I got up and decided to go to my next class early. It didn’t necessarily bother me what she had said. Chaeyoung always liked to mess with me.

All my classes seemed slower than usual and Jisung was answering my texts. At this point in the day, we would probably be having a meme war or a stupid conversation ignoring our teachers, but my phone was silent. Not a single notification.

By the end of the day, I was feeling totally depressed. English was my last class and thank god I had it with Jisung. No doubt he would be late though. He rarely ever showed up on time to class. But, as I walked through the classroom door I did a double-take seeing my best friend in his usual seat right beside mine.

He gave me an innocent smile. This was strange. Jisung was never early. He looked...normal. I mean other than the physical overnight puberty storm. He slouched in his chair his long legs spilling into the aisle, not that he cared, and he twirled a pen between his long slender fingers.

“Yo, wassup, cutie?” He said as I sat down. “You seem to be the talk of the school.” He shrugged and shuffled through some physics work he had on his desk. “You jealous?” That stupid smirk appeared on his mouth. “No. Just confused.”

“Okay, class. Settle down. We are going to be returning to our analysis of Austen’s novel Sense and Sensibility.”

I busied myself with taking thorough notes knowing Jisung would just fall asleep again or just play a random game on his phone. The teacher droned on making a seemingly not boring book a complete snooze fest. The lecture continued without end threatening to send me to sleep as well. Out of habit, I looked over at Jisung, except he was not asleep. Jisung was wide awake and he appeared to be listening intently.

As if he sensed I was looking at him he turned and smiled at me before returning his attention to the front of the classroom. This was too weird. Where was my Jisung? Maybe he was still sick. That could explain the weird behavior, right?

The harsh sound of the release bell brought me out of my thoughts. Jisung was already packing up his stuff. “Hey, you wanna stop by Tony’s on the way home? You can buy me a slice!” I said latching onto his arm. The girls were right. Jisung had filled out. Feeling myself starting to blush, I let go and looked back up at my best friend.

“I can’t. I’ve gotta run some errands fro May and then Uncle Ben asked me to pick up dinner and some other stuff.”

“I can come with you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll text you later!”

Without another word, Jisung raced out of the classroom. I knew Jisung pretty well and it was clear he didn’t want me around today. Alone-again- I rode the subway back to my apartment to be greeted by an empty living room. My mom had left a note on the counter leaving me money for dinner and saying Jisung was welcome to come over. “Yeah, well he’s too busy,” I said to no one in particular.

It got dark pretty quick. All my homework was finished. I even managed to submit the stupid article on lunch menus. Eventually, I had nothing to do but stare at my ceiling. The news was getting pretty boring. After the whole Avenger’s fiasco, things had quieted down, and no interesting stories were in sight. By 11:30 I had given up hope Jisung was going to text let alone call so I did the next best thing.

“Hi, May! Is Jisung busy?”

“Hi, sweetie! Jisung got home about an hour ago. He said he was out with Felix. Should I tell him to call you?”

“No, no. It’s fine. You don’t have to tell him. I’ll talk to him later.”

“Okay, honey. Goodnight!”

Han Jisung you filthy little liar. If he didn’t want to hang out with me he should have just said so. Deciding I had finally had enough of this awful day I curled up under my covers and fell asleep.

Months had now passed and Jisung had started acting normal again. Well as normal as Jisung could be anyway. Our near daily trips to Tony’s had decreased to only twice a week and Jisung always seemed to be busy after school, though he made sure to text me back for fear of facing my wrath.

“What do you think of this Spiderman guy?” I asked typing away on my laptop. Jisung lounged across my bed, the Saturday afternoon light casting a warm glow over his face. He looked up from his place beside me. “Uhh...I don’t know. What do you think of him?”

“He seems a little childish and amateur, but he is a great story. Vigilante helping out downtown New York? That’s gold.”

“Childish? What do you mean childish? He’s professional as fuck. I heard he stopped a bank robbery the other day.”

“Yeah, and they found the criminals hanging from a lampost by their underwear.”

Jisung laughed and ran a hand through his blonde hair before looking up at the ceiling. “You’ve been talking about Spiderman a lot lately. What do you have a crush on him?” I scoffed, fingers flying across my keyboard. “Please. I don’t date children. Besides, I just think he is a great story.”

“You wanna order takeout?” Jisung asked reaching over me to get my phone. My dad was on duty and my mom was on call so Jisung had come over to keep me company. I did my best to pretend I didn’t notice how amazing he smelled as he leaned over me. “You know you should really stop eating junk food. You are what you eat.” I said distracting myself from how close he was.

“Well then if we are what we eat, I guess I would be fast, cheap, and easy.”

Jisung winked at me, making my eyes roll. Jisung had grown at home in his new body and somehow he got even cockier than he was before. He groaned at my lack of response and instead let his head rest in my lap, giving him a good view of my screen. “Play with my hair, bitch.”

“Excuse me, dick. I’m working.” He laughed and unlocked my phone. I often wondered why he liked just sitting with me. I think I remembered him telling me once that he liked the sound of me typing. He said it had sort of a rhythm that only belonged to me. How he could pick up on that I had no clue. Like he had superhearing.

“I ordered sushi. Don’t worry, I’ll pay.” Jisung said, adjusting his body slightly so he wasn’t at an awkward angle. I smiled continuing to write about our masked arachnid hero. “Please tell me you got boba too.” I sighed suddenly craving the sweet drink.

“Of course, baby. I’ve got you.”

There was a moment of silence. Any minute now Jisung was going to break it. The boy couldn’t go three minutes without talking. “Do you think Spiderman is hot?” Jisung blurted out.

“Jisung...do we need to have a talk?”

“What- no! Oh, what- no! I mean like do you think he’s hot?”

“The guy wears a mask; how am I supposed to know?”

He shrugged and played on my phone. “I don’t know. What do you think he looks like?” With Jisung’s mind, he wasn’t going to drop this until he got an answer. Saving my work, I closed my laptop and moved it onto the side table. “He’s probably like thirteen. I’m mean he is skinny enough to be a pre-teen.”

“No, like his face.”

“You are weirdly obsessed with this you know.”

“Answer the question already. I’m getting bored.”

I thought for a minute, my hand unconsciously moving to run through his blonde locks. What would spiderman look like? “He is probably just some random white dude. Dark hair, blue eyes maybe?”

He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. The topic changed after that. Jisung told me about spending time with his Uncle earlier that day and we talked about his weird physics experiments. Soon enough, the food came and Jisung paid for it like he said he would. We spent the next several hours sitting in my bed eating sushi, drinking boba, and watching a drama Jisung insisted I ‘needed to see or my brain would explode out of my ears from being lame’.

After several episodes, my room was obscenely dark and my parents had yet to come home. My back rested against Jisung’s chest letting me feel the vibration of his laughs. “Hey, it’s late. You should probably head home.” He smiled when I made no attempt at moving or letting him up. “Do you want me to stay?” “Yes please.” He chuckled and pulled out his phone, calling his uncle and letting him know.

Soon I began to grow tired, my head slumping back onto his shoulder. He poked my side, trying to wake me up. “Hey, go change for bed.” Sleepily, I nodded and shuffled out of bed to sift through my closet for a nightshirt. Jisung moved around getting comfortable while I changed.

As I walked back over to the bed Jisung shut my laptop and placed it on my nightstand. When I climbed back into my bed he pulled me on top of him, wrapping his arms around my waist. It had been quite a while since Jisung had stayed over. It felt so nice just to be next to him, feeling the warmth radiating off his bare chest. The sound of his heartbeat lulled me to sleep.

Jisung’s ringtone blared in my small room quickly waking me up. “Ji-” I said shoving my head under the covers. “I got it. Go back to sleep.” A quick glance at my clock told me it was two am. Who the hell was calling Jisung at two am? Jisung reached over me and grabbed his phone off the stand. He tried not to move a lot because my head still lay on his arm. “Hello?”

“Happy? What’s wrong?”

“Jisung tell the Disney dwarf to hang up. I wanna go back to sleep.” I whined, drowsily. Snuggling back into his chest, I reluctantly listened to him sleepily talk on the phone, Jisung not being fully awake himself. “Where am I? I’m at Y/n’s.....Yes....Yes, you can add the location to the list.” I felt Jisung run a hand through his fluffy hair and sigh.

“Mr. Stark said what? Yeah, yeah I have it in my bag....What now?....She’s gonna kill me....I can be there in ten.” Jisung hung up and started to get out of bed. “Woah, where the hell are you going? I need my personal space heater.” Jisung let out a tired laugh as he slipped his baggy shirt back on and rummaged through his bag looking for something.

“I’m really sorry, but I have to go.”

“Jisung who the fuck is calling you at two am? What is so important that you have to leave?” I asked still not really awake and comprehensive. “Uhhh....my....internship.”

“Your what?”

“My internship.”

“Your what?”

“My internship.”

“Yeah-Ji- you keep saying ‘your internship’ like my half-asleep half murderous mind will understand what your saying.”

“I got an internship with Stark Industries. They have uh... a problem....with some of the...code that I wrote....last week.”

Jisung started slipping his socks back on as I stared at him in confusion. “When did you get an internship with freaking Tony Stark -You work with Ironman?!” He laughed and started searching for his shoes.

“Y/n, go back to sleep. I’ll see you on Monday.” Then he left. I was alone once again in my room. A random siren went off in the distance and I just sat in bed. Suddenly, the police scanner on my dresser crackled to life. My dad had given it to me for my birthday a few years ago.

We have a 647g Disorderly Conduct at 284 Hickom Av.

647g? Why bother calling that in at this time of night? That was just loitering. Sighing, I got up and walked over to turn the radio off. Another voice coming through stopped me.

Disregard suspect has left the premise with another group of guys. Headed south down Hickom.

South down Hickom street? What had my dad said earlier this week? Something about several high arms deals going down near there. If I could catch one in the act this would be a great story! Throwing on some pants and slipping on my sneakers, I grabbed my camera and put on my jacket. “Finally a great story!”

Hickom Avenue was maybe about ten minutes away. The streets were pretty dark at two am, but it didn’t really bother me. My curiosity overpowered any fear I should have. My eyes scanned the area looking for any sign of the guys the scanner mentioned. Just as I was about to cross in front of an alley I saw them. Quickly I doubled back and pressed against the wall.

“If I’m paying 4k for some lightsaber shit, I’d better get a demonstration, man.”

Carefully I peeked around the corner. Seven men stood in the hallway. Three were next to this heavy-duty van with blacked-out windows. This was definitely an arms deal if I had ever seen one. Which....to be fair...I hadn’t. But it was pretty clear.

A guy with muscles bigger than my head pulled out a large weapon with green glowing lights. Quickly I pulled out my camera and started snapping pictures. They proceeded to fire this huge light cannon around the alley. Holy shit. This thing was powerful.

“Okay, you got a deal. I’ll take four-”

Let’s dance the night away,

Yeaaaahh

One, Two, Three! Let’s go!

“Fuck,” I whispered ripping my phone out of my pocket and struggling to turn it off. “Turn off, come on.” Finally, I silenced the phone and turned to see if they had heard. Instead my eyes met a broad chest only a couple inches away.

Okay....think, think, think. Too busy panicking. Can’t think. Uhhhhhh......fuck. I followed my first instinct and threw a punch at the guy’s nose. His head did not recoil like it was supposed to. He just simply cracked his neck and glared down at me.

Okay.....instincts bad.

Before I knew it I was struggling against the man’s grip as he dragged me into the alley. “We’ve got a visitor.” He said throwing me onto the ground in front of all the other men. They sneered and inched closer clearly quite upset I had interrupted their little party.

“Make that two. Hey, how are you guys doing?”

All heads turned to the roof of the liquor store we were next to. My eyes widened. There was Spiderman. Complete with the red and blue suit and cocky childish attitude. “Who the fuck are you?” The buff guy, who now had his foot digging into my stomach, said.

“Bro....Come on. I’m Spiderman. You know. I shoot webs and kick ass.”

“Isn’t he that guy from YouTube that did the flip on that building?”

“OH MY GOD, THAT WAS ONE TIME!”

The man scoffed and pressed further onto my stomach, making me wince slightly. “Scram, Arachne Boy.” The men around me laughed at I assumed the leader’s joke. The hero sighed and shook his head.

“See now I have to beat you up. You can’t just make fun of my name. That shit hurts, bro.”

“What the fu-” Before he could finish his sentence a web shot and grabbed onto his face and flung him into the side of the building. Soon a fight broke out. Trying to remove myself from the situation I crawled away as Spiderman fought all the men.

“Ah!”

A strong hand grabbed the back of my neck and hoisted me off the ground. “You aren’t getting away that easy, little girl.” The man sneered. A huge welt was on the side of his face from Spiderman’s attack. My airway’s started to close as he squeezed tighter. My hands tried to pull his fingers away and slapping at any place I could reach. Meanwhile, the last thing I would hear before I died would be Spiderman yelling something about Naruto running a dude into the next Millenium.

As the edges of my vision started to fade, I heard another voice come closer. “Get your fucking mutant hands off her!” It screamed. I was dropped to the ground. Air filled my lungs as I took huge gasps. Looking up I saw Spiderman taking on the huge monstrosity of a man with nothing but his own two hands.

“I was told never to play with guns. But I think today might be the exception.”

A web shot out of his fingertips and pulled the weird contraption into his hands. A bright light emitted and fired at the man, blasting him into the building wall. Within seconds Spiderman had wrapped up the villain in a little cocoon of sticky webs, keeping him secure. A quick look around told me he had already done the same to the others.

The boy in the red suit danced around like a weirdo, while I sat on the ground. “Go Spidey! Go Spidey! Hell yeah! I made all of you my bitches!” I coughed still trying to get air back into my lungs. The white eyes on his mask widened. It must be some pretty advanced tech in that suit.

“Holy shit- Are you okay, Y/n...........I mean...wait-...random citizen I don’t know who means nothing to me personally. Are you okay?”

His voice weirdly got lower halfway through his sentence. Dazed, I looked back up at him. He offered me a hand up and gratefully I took it. “Thanks for helping back there,” I said, voice coming out a bit sore. He shrugged and puffed out his chest.

“Yeah, I did kick some serious ass didn’t I?”

Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my camera and started to walk away. “Wait! Where are you going?” He swung from a lamppost and landed in front of me the suit’s eyes widening and shrinking again. His suit must have facial readers or something.

“I’m going home. I’ve got my story; I’m done.”

“Hey it’s not safe. Let me take you home. What would your friends say if you weren’t at school tomorrow?”

Spiderman continued to follow me as if he were a lost puppy. I laughed when he almost tripped over a trashcan. “Okay, one- how do you know I’m a student? And two- I don’t really have any friends. People don’t like me at school.” He stopped in his tracks.

“What do you mean- Are you getting bullied at school?” His words stopped me. He sounded genuinely concerned. By now we were halfway to my apartment. I simply stared at him as the old streetlights flickered and struggled to light up the sidewalks we were on.

“A couple people bother me, but I just ignore them. Look I’m gonna go home. Thanks for back there. You were a real hero.”

He looked between me and my hand as I stuck it out for him to shake. Slowly he took it, his grip firm, but cautious. “You know, usually heroes get a thank you kiss for rescuing such a gorgeous girl.” I scoffed and pulled my hand away.

“Sorry, Spidey. I’m not interested in cocky little shits who run around wearing masks.”

“Yeah well, you’d be surprised. What is your type? Bet, I’m still it.”

My eyes lit up thinking about him. “I guess I’m more of the boy next door type. They say you always fall for your best friend right?”

He blinked as if he was processing my words. What I thinking? A horny fourteen-year-old boy wouldn’t understand. “Night, Spidey. Thanks for the save.” Not letting him say another word, I headed back to my apartment. My apartment was still empty when I returned. My parents wouldn’t be back until after I left for school in a few hours. Reluctantly I went back to my bed, missing the space where Jisung lay only a few hours earlier. It was harder to fall asleep without him next to me.

My legs carried me as quickly as they could. I ignored the crazy looks from people on the street as I raced to May’s apartment. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I burst through the building’s main entrance. Knowing the elevator would take too long and it was probably broken again, I took the stairs up to the fourth floor.

The door was unlocked when I ran into the apartment. “May? May!” I called, looking for her in the living room. Hearing small cries I turned to find her exiting the kitchen. With open arms, I let her hug me and cry into my shoulder.

We sat in the kitchen in silence. Occasionally one of our cries would slip, but the emptiness would return. He wasn’t answering any of my calls. I was beginning to worry. May said they were together. Where was he? It had been hours since May had called me. The sound of the door opening made us both stand from our seats.

Jisung walked in with heavy shoulders and blood on his forehead and smeared across his shirt. He had dried tears staining his cheeks. I had seen the footage of the shooting on the news with May, but the sight of Jisung standing before us made my heart break.

I held myself back as May went to her nephew. They needed each other. I could wait. Whispers between the two were shared, most likely about her husband. She had already gotten a call, but hearing it from Jisung seemed important to her. After a moment she excused herself, saying something about wanting to go to bed.

The two of us stood in silence. I had no idea how to comfort him. How could you comfort someone who just watched their uncle die? Jisung started to slowly move towards his room. Wordlessly, I followed.

After I closed his door, I turned to find him staring at the walls small cries coming from his form. There were pictures of him and his uncle all over his room. Jisung sighed when I wrapped my arms around him from behind. He turned around so he could hold me to his chest. Hot tears fell against my neck as he cried.

It felt like hours before he calmed down. Gently I led him over to the bed and sat him down. All he could do was stare at his hands as I grabbed a clean shirt from his closet and a wet cloth from the bathroom. There was no fight from him as I lifted the bloodied shirt from his body and put it in the hamper.

Carefully, I lifted his chin and gently started cleaning the blood away from his face. I tried not to wipe away the tears that slowly ran down his cheeks. He looked broken-and tired like he hadn’t slept even before today’s events. My heart shattered when he finally looked me in the eye.

“I’m not ready for this.” He whispered, more tears falling.

Wrapping my arms around him, I let the clean shirt fall to the floor. “I know...” I tried to keep tears from falling from my own eyes. I concentrated on running my fingers through his hair and how tightly he held onto my waist. “You’re never going to be ready for it.” He cried even harder, making me want to scream for him.

Slowly, I laid back onto his bed, holding him on top of my chest. “No one is ever ready for what you are going through,” I whispered. His body shook from crying and he buried his nose into my neck, holding onto me as if I were the only tether keeping him from floating away. “But, you are so strong. We aren’t faced with challenges we can’t overcome.” His breathing started to steady as my hand traced patterns on this bare skin of his back. “Sometimes I wish I was normal,” He whispered.

“Ji, you are anything but normal. And that’s okay. But for now...you can just be here. I’ll be with you. When you’re ready you can do whatever you need to. But...just stay here for now.”

He nodded and held onto me even tighter. I listened to his breath, gently rubbing his back and playing with his hair. When I knew he was asleep, I let myself do the same. Tomorrow would be another day. I would most likely have to leave and let Jisung and May grieve, but for now, I could be with him. Hopefully, that was enough.

Early the next morning, I woke up to an empty bed. Jisung’s covers were loosely wrapped around me and his window was cracked open, letting a strip of sunlight in. Slowly, I sat up and rubbed my head. It was quite unusual for him to be up this early. Well, it was quite unusual for me to be up this early, but it was like my body had a sensor for when he was gone. I pulled my phone from the table and started to text him.

The sound of the window opening caused my attention to turn. I froze as I saw Jisung climbing through the window. “What the fuck!” He froze when he saw me. My eyes widened, taking the sight in. Jisung was standing before me wearing a familiar red and blue suit, a mask in his hand.

“Y/n, I can explain...”

Was Jisung Spiderman? Was my best friend Spiderman? Holy shit! “Okay explain!” He simply stared at me, eyes wide. His hand came to scratch the back of his neck. His eyes avoided mine as my arms crossed my chest.

“Jisung, might I suggest explanation protocol #38 for Miss L/n?”

“Oh my God! Friday, shut up! You aren’t helping.”

I watched as Jisung said to the AI apparently in his suit before he tossed the mask onto his desk. “You have an explanation protocol for me?” The look on his face showed that he knew he was in trouble.

“See the thing is...I’m not Spiderman-...” He stopped when I glared at him. “Okay, I am Spiderman. This is my internship with Mr.Stark.” Without hesitation, I got up from his bed and started slapping his arm.

“This doesn’t even hurt, does it? You have superstrength. Oh my god, I’m going to fucking murder you.” An aggravated sigh left my chest. “So this whole entire time you have been swinging around the city saving people and doing flips on buildings and I was none the wiser?” I said turning back to him.

“That was one time! But...yes.” He stood awkwardly in his own room. “Look, I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” He gulped when my stern gaze turned back on him. “So, anything you ask I’ll answer.”

“Who else knows?”

“Mr. Stark, Happy- the guy who is my supervisor-, and Felix.”

“FELIX?”

He flinched as my voice raised. Taking a breath, I calmly sat back down on his bed. He watched as I crossed my legs and turned off the sound on my phone. No way was I gonna let my parents interrupt this conversation. “How did you become like...this...” I asked pointing to his clearly toned physique.

“At first I thought it was just like another puberty thing. But, like puberty doesn't make me shoot webs out of my hands. I think it was that spider from the lab.”

“So do-...are all your...bodily fluids...like...webs? Like do you shoot webs out of everywhere or-”

“You wanna find out?” Jisung said with a smirk, coming closer. I did not hesitate to slap him.

“You couldn’t think of a better name though? Spiderman, really? You couldn’t come up with something more aggressive?”

“Well, I mean...like - spiders are cool, okay!”

I could tell he was uncomfortable. Usually, Jisung always stood up straight and had some sort of a smile or smirk on his face, but he was truly nervous. He watched me expectantly, waiting to answer whatever questions I asked next.

“So when you said you were away on a company retreat for the weekend. That was actually you who was fighting Captain America and all that shit in Prauge?”

“Yes.”

“When you left that night, did you go to the arms deal?”

“Yes.”

“So, it was you who saved me.”

“Your welcome.”

“Don’t push it.”

Nervously, he let out a laugh. No matter how many questions I asked...he was still my best friend. I was proud of him. He was doing so much good. Don’t get me wrong I was still very pissed at him for not telling me. “You owe me pizza at Tony’s for the rest of the fucking year.” A sigh of relief left his chest and he wrapped me in a hug.

“That’s fine by me. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t ask about the whole crush thing.” I pulled away to see that fucking smirk on his mouth. “I think it’s cute you’re in love with me.” He tugged me closer to his body, gripping my waist.

“Who says I’m in love with you?”

“Me.”

“You’re an asshole- you say a lot of stupid shit.”

“I’m an asshole, not a liar. There’s a difference.”

My breath caught in my throat when I saw his eyes glance down to my lips. I could practically feel my heartbeat pulsing through my entire body. It was true and he knew it. I was in love with him. “Well....what are you going do about it? Prick...” I said in a shaky breath. He let out a soft laugh, his eyes lighting up.

“Kiss you....bitch.”

My heart went crazy as he pressed his lips to mine. Closing my eyes, I melted into his touch. This was definitely the craziest two days of my entire life. I never would have imagined I would have to comfort my best friend, find out he was a superhero running around New York, and then have him kiss me in his bedroom.

Jisung smiled as I kissed him back, draping my arms around his neck and threading my fingers through his blonde hair. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought kissing Jisung would be like this. Without his mouth leaving mine he pushed me up against the wall of his bedroom. He sighed when my teeth caught his bottom lip.

“Fuck...do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” He asked before returning to my lips.

“Kissing me?”

“To be honest I’ve been thinking about more than that since I was thirteen.”

Ignoring my scoff, Jisung continued to attack my lips like he had found water for the first time after walking in a desert. His hands slid under my legs, making me shriek when he picked me up. In one swift motion, he turned around and threw me onto his bed, before hovering over me. “I love you,” He whispered, before placing a soft kiss on my lips. Slowly, he moved down to my neck, my hands running through his soft hair. Impatiently, I pulled him back to my lips.

Our little makeout session was interrupted by the sound of Jisung’s phone ringing. He sighed and dropped his head onto my shoulder. “I have to get that,” He sighed and pushed himself off the bed, walking over to pick up his phone. My eyes couldn’t help but rake over him. Now, I could freely ogle how gorgeous his body was. I bit my lip, looking at the lines of his broad shoulders go down to his slim waist.

“Happy, now is not a good time.”

“Yes....among other things...” A blush flooded his cheeks as he looked back at me still laying on his bed.

“Can’t Mr. Stark send someone else?”

“I’m not just going to up and leave.”

Getting bored, I got up and wrapped my arms around him. He tried to look over at me, but I just buried my face in his chest. Patiently, I waited for him to finished the call with Happy. Finally, he threw the phone onto his bed and kissed me again. “Do you have to go?” I asked against his lips. He pulled away another smirk filling his face.

“You want to go to Berlin for a week?”

“What?”

“Mr. Stark needs me in Berlin. Something about S.H.I.E.L.D and an Avenger thing. But, there is no way May will let me go. Especially after yesterday.”

“Why am I going?”

“Happy said I could take you with me, you know to convince May to let me go.”

I laughed and kissed him again. “Sure. I’ll go to Berlin with you.” He laughed and spun me around the room. “However, you are gonna be the one to tell my dad that we are going alone with no chaperone to a country where the drinking age is sixteen.”

“Fuck.”

“Good luck, Ji.”

Requests are open, just send an ask my lovelies!

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pocket-void · 4 years

Text

Table for Two

A/N: Hi! This the first fanfic I’ve written for literally anything! (I’m an on and off writer in general tho) I’m hoping to write a collection of unconnected short stories currently called Smaller Sides to Life, that focuses on small/short moments in time during specific events. I’d be so grateful for any comment or feedback, but honestly I just hope you enjoy it first and foremost! >///<

Pairing: Logicality Words: 2468 Content: Human AU? A lot of descriptions of anxious waiting, so I guess it’s got a lil angst. Happy ending! (Please tell me if I need to mention anything I am very unfamiliar with how this works ;///;) Summary: Logan grows ever more anxious as he waits for his date, who, at this point, he isn’t even sure is coming.

If you wanna read my google doc for this instead you’re free to. (I like Cambria font u///u) I have an Ao3 but I am currently not using it.

Logan was alone, sitting comfortably at a table for two in the back of a halfway decent food establishment, silently watching as the ice cubes in his water shifted and tapped against the glass while they melted with each passing second. Well, “comfortably” was a lie, of course. There was absolutely nothing comforting about being in such a place on his own, with only the dim flickering candles on the table to keep him company. He didn’t really know what the worst part of the whole thing even was. Was it the ever encroaching chatter that surrounded him? The sickeningly sweet music that played in the background? The blank, unflinching cold stone wall in front of him? Or perhaps, it was the still empty seat that sat mockingly at the other side of the table.

Indeed, Logan was unhappy, uncomfortable, and alone.

The nervous tapping of his foot was practically synonymous with the pattering rain against the windows. The typically majestic city view now nothing more than an amorphous glob of glowing lights amidst the water droplets and fog. He couldn’t help but repeatedly switch between checking his watch and frantically clicking his pen, occasionally scribbling down a loose nonsensical thought or two onto his little notepad. The action barely made a difference in soothing his racing mind, but he had to do something to distract himself. He’d do practically anything to ease the agony that was continuously settling in his heart with each passing minute. The absolute dread hanging over him like an impending guillotine.

This was foolish. Logan sighed. Surely he was overreacting. There must’ve been a reason. He thought to himself, but it was no use. Not a single thing he told himself could possibly make the immensely slow sinking weight forming at the pit of his stomach go away. Not. A single. Thing. For someone who typically prided himself on being able to, and rather efficiently mind you, keep his calm in the most stressful of situations, this was quite distressing to say the least.

He’s simply running late. He reasons to himself. It happens. You know that. Well, of course he did. There were practically an infinite amount of possibilities that could’ve delayed the arrival of the person he was waiting for, and most of them were not inherently related to Logan’s personal character. That was the most logical conclusion, anyway. Did that thought comfort him any though? No.

It’s been an hour, Logan. You must be joking if you still think he’s coming. Another thought tore through his mind. Well, he may not have been joking, but he was well aware of how ridiculous it must’ve seemed. Just him, sitting alone at a table for two, growing ever more and more desperate by the second. To hold on to even a sliver of hope must’ve seemed utterly utterly foolish. Every pitying glance by the passing waiter refilling his cup only served to make him feel even more miserable. He wished desperately, in that moment, that he could just disappear; he hoped he could shrink down in size so small that he wouldn’t have to be seen anymore. He wanted to completely collapse in on himself and crumple up like the pathetic scraps of paper he’d been unconsciously tearing out of his notes. He wanted the world to just fade to black, and for him to simply drift away into an endless void, away from everything. Away from this. Maybe then he’d be free from the dreaded weight that sat heavily upon his shoulders. He didn’t think his heart could even beat this fast, but there it was, hammering in his chest like a hyperactive hummingbird.

He hated it.

He’s not coming, Logan. That thought instantly sank itself into the depths of his soul. He felt a lump begin to form in the back of his throat; it was almost nauseating. He’s not coming because he doesn’t want to see you. Another thought that dug itself into his mind. He felt his teeth harshly grind against each other as his jaws clenched, begging himself to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He didn’t even give you a call. The world suddenly seemed to freeze. A quiet realization sent an absolutely disparaging chill down his spine. You didn’t even get the courtesy of knowing you’ve been rejected. He let out a weak shaky breath before finally lowering his face into his hands, completely defeated. This was beyond pathetic, honestly. How unbecoming of him to be this way. He wasn’t coming. He already fully knew how illogical it was to remain in his seat. Yet, a part of himself still refused to let him throw what remained of that practically shattered hope away.

And so, the clock kept ticking still...

Logan wasn’t really sure how long it’s been at this point. Everything had begun to slowly meld together in his mind. Beyond the disappointment and despair was just the dull aching pain of rejection in his chest, not to mention the utterly dry and bitter taste in his mouth. He berated himself for being this pathetic about the whole thing, and a coward who couldn’t even muster up enough courage to stand up and go home. It was frustrating, because he knew better than this. It was both impractical and nonsensical to keep waiting. But he felt weak, and his two feet remained firmly stuck to the floor as if they were made of solid, immovable lead. The waiters have collectively decided to leave him alone at this point, which he had considered a small blessing. He didn’t want to bother pretending to smile or claim that everything was ok anymore; the energy was long depleted by now.

Logan let out yet another shaky breath, wrapping his arms around him and hugging himself tight, trying as he might to figuratively and literally “get a grip” on reality. What was he even waiting for? Why had he been so eagerly anticipating sitting at this table just a few hours before leaving work? What was the point? What was he doing? He still had tasks to do! There were still piles upon piles of work that had to be done at his desk but no, he was here. He was here, sitting alone, and doing nothing. Logan glanced down at his watch yet again, but its face was unreadable. His eyes blurry and unclear even as he rubbed the tears away, adjusted his glasses, and squinted. The only message it managed to send was just how much time he was wasting away by remaining where he currently was. Nobody was coming. His grip tightened, nails practically clawing at the sleeves of his suit. Never in his life had he felt so betrayed by something that originally had a perfect and fitting place within his schedule. What had he done wrong? Where did he make a mistake?

The gentle laughter and casual chattering of the surrounding atmosphere were like needles in his back as he felt himself curl inwards. The sweet and decidedly romantic music that served as the loving backdrop for what was to be a pleasant evening for patrons was now mocking and decadent. It sounded almost like a distant echo, far far away. Something that he was always in the vicinity of, but will never truly be able to enjoy; a happiness he cannot obtain. He was trapped. He was trapped here, in a dim corner of a restaurant, with a lukewarm cup of water, weakly flickering candles, a cold unflinching wall, the pitter patter of rain, the incessant (and mildly imaginary) ticking of his watch, crumpled up scraps of note paper, sickening chatter, unappealing music, a dry bitter taste in his mouth, an unnerving feeling of cold sweat, a dizzying headache, a fast racing heart, a barely registering breath, a lump in his throat, and clearly watering eyes.

All at a half empty table for two.

He hated it.

He ended up sitting there for so long that he felt drained, empty. His eyes now only slightly stung when opened, but he kept them closed while he leaned against one arm against the table. By now he had, at the very least, managed to catch his breath. He felt so tired. Logan took a deep breath and glanced down at his watch yet again. It had only honestly been an hour and a half, not that much time at all in the grand scheme of things. And yet here he was, feeling like he had been stationary for several years. Perhaps it was finally time to go. He shifted his aching body to finally attempt to escape from this prison, but a hurried rush of footsteps instantly made him freeze up yet again.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

“Oh my goodness god, you’re still here!”

Logan jolted at the sound of the sweet, silvery voice that rang out, very obviously filled with concern. He turned towards the person who hastily ran up to him, the cold hands cupped around his face immediately snapping him awake from his previous haze.

“I can’t believe you waited for me for this long!! Have you been here the whole time?? I’m- Oh my god I’m so so sorry Logan I-”

He honestly couldn’t even process what he was seeing, much less feeling. A man stood in front of him now, frantically gesturing and apologizing, and absolutely soaked to the core. Logan could very much feel the gazes of dozens of patrons on them now, but it didn’t matter. All he could do was stare with wide eyes at his date, whose suit was completely muddied and shoes absolutely ruined by the rain. He blinked a few times as he tried to understand what the man was even saying as he kept pausing and stuttering while constantly sweeping his matted and wet light brown hair out of his eyes. Seeing him there, standing in front of him, was enough to make Logan feel his heart slowly begin to beat once again.

“God, Logan, I know you must be mad at me, I’m- How could I possibly ever make this up to you? Oh god, oh dear, I can’t believe I did this to you! I’m just so sor-”

“Patton…” Logan finally managed, taking one of Patton’s cold hands into his and finally stopping his rambling. He took a silent moment to just quietly immerse himself into the other’s sparkling and visibly apologetic blue eyes. A beautiful and comforting sight for his literally sore ones. He felt something start to bubble up inside of him, and it began to slowly rise in his chest. A warm, fluttering feeling that rose, higher and higher, until a soft laugh finally slips from his lips. Patton’s expression instantly lightens at the sound, and Logan could feel the once soul crushing weight that surrounded him finally melt away. He gives Patton’s hand a light squeeze, an absolutely relieved smile now upon his face. “Patton. It’s ok.”

There wasn’t a single moment’s hesitation when Patton sprang forwards to wrap Logan in the tightest hug he could possibly manage. Despite the water that slowly seeped into Logan’s own clothes, and the hug being admittedly cold on account of Patton being completely drenched, he had never felt his heart swell with so much warmth in his entire life. They stayed locked in each other's embrace until Patton remembered his current condition and quickly backed off with yet another series of apologetic bows.

“Dear lord, now look what I’ve done. I went ahead and ruined your clothes too!” He giggled, trying his best to wipe away the water with a napkin to barely any success.

Logan just couldn’t help but smile at the clumsy yet adorable gesture. “Don’t worry about it. It’s clearly not as bad as whatever happened to you.” He pointed out. “Say, whatever did happen to you anyways? You weren’t answering any of my calls and I...I thought you weren’t going to…” He paused for a moment before opting to take a long sip out of his cup instead before shrugging. “You know.” He murmured, his body unintentionally stiffening at the insinuation.

Patton looked crushed at the thought, which he was unfortunately terribly aware of. He embarrassingly rubbed at the back of his neck and lowered his head. “I-I know, and I really am so sorry Logan. I...I didn’t expect you to still be here either. And I couldn’t even tell you! Oh geez… After making you wait so long, you probably honestly should have just-”

“It’s ok, Patton.” Logan reassured with a nod, voice barely a whisper. He gently lifted one of Patton’s hands and brushed his lips against the man’s knuckles. “What’s important is that you’re here. That’s enough.” He felt a small bit of pride as he watched Patton’s face flush at the unexpected gesture.

The man quickly took the hand back with a laugh before settling down in the seat across from Logan. At last, filling the space that completed the whole picture.

“Still, the fact that I made you wait that long is terribly unreasonable. So just please let me-”

Logan chuckled, gesturing towards a leaf that was still stuck in his date’s hair, to which the other quickly pulled out with a flustered huff.

“Logan, I’m trying to apologize here!”

“You already have.” He stated, quickly dismissing the concern with a smile. The other clearly had no defense against him doing that, to which Logan was fully aware of. The smile then curled into a satisfied smirk upon his silence. “So, are you going to tell me?”

Patton blinked in response. “O-Oh! Right! You aren’t going to believe this, but-”

And as Patton energetically attempted to recall his unfortunate run-in with the storm while trying to rescue a cat from a tree, forgetting he’s allergic to them, slipping up and falling out of said tree, missing the bus, and losing his phone in the entire process, Logan simply sat comfortably across from him, fully content to listen to his story. It was ridiculous, it was nonsensical, and it was of course, entirely hilarious, but he enjoyed every word that came out of the mouth of the sweet and adorable man that now accompanied him. Patton’s rain stained glasses, half dried and now puffing up hair, and his freckled smile, completely lit up the once dim and lifeless corner of the restaurant they sat in. Nothing could have detracted from that moment in time. Not the rain, not the stares, and certainly not how the time just seemed to fly by, even during the comfortable silence that sat between them while they both enjoyed their meals. Logan wouldn’t have missed any of it for the world.

Here at this table for two.

#I did it!#I'm lowkey much more nervous about posting writing than I am posting art #But this was nice to write so I'm glad I finished it #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #mock writes #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #logicality #Smaller Sides to Life

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jungshookz · 4 years

Note

I would love a uni!yoongi & y/n drabble💓💜

🌿pairing; min yoongi x reader

🌿genre; uni!yoongi, university!au, fluffy fluffy fluff!!!!!!! uni!yoongi owns my heart and my whole ASS

🌿wordcount; 2.8k

🌿what to expect; “and another fun fact! the mistletoe plant actually contains toxic amines, and eating its berries can cause vomiting and stomach pain.”

🌿note; outraGEOUS that a mistletoe emoji has yet to exist!!!! unfortunately i wasn’t able to do a 12 drabbles of christmas this year due to finals but i hope this drabble makes up for it :-) if i’m a little rusty it’s only because this is the first drabble i’ve written in a while,..,,. hopefully i’ll have another drabble up before christmas!!! happy reading :^)

»»————-　✼　————-««

if yoongi had a dollar for every time he wanted to scream at you for being denser than a block of tofu he would most definitely be a billionaire

he’s had this thought time and time again but he really doesn’t understand how someone so smart can be so dumb at the same time

he could be holding up a flashing neon sign pointing to him that said ‘i 100% like you and am giving you the green light to ask me out so all you have to do is ask!’ and you would still be like .,.,.y’all hear sumn?

anyways he doesn’t have time to think about when you’re finally going to make a move because it’s that time of the semester ladies and gents

yep

it’s finals season

now, traditionally, the way yoongi handles finals season is that he kind of just goes with the flow

as in he goes to the library and studies for two hours and decides that that’s enough time and dedication he’s putting into a particular class so he pretty much deserves the rest of the day off

and this technique has worked ever since his first year in uni so he’s stuck with it ever since

as long as he doesn’t flunk out of anything he’s fine!!!

but since getting to know you yoongi has adopted new techniques into his studying routine that doesn’t just include skimming over poorly taken notes from class for 5 minutes and then scrolling through instagram for 45 minutes and then taking a 2 hour nap

no no

now he has highlighted notes

now he has insanely detailed google docs

now he has flash cards

and not just flash cards

colour coordinated flash cards

crazy, isn’t it???

this is probably your guys’ fifth study session together and yoongi doesn’t want to toot his own horn or anything but he thinks he’s going to absolutely nail this chemistry final

he can tell anyone about the main types of chemical reactions without blinking

that’s how confident he is about his knowledge

and he knoWs it’s all because of you which most certainly doesn’t help him suppress his attraction towards you

how can he noT be attracted to the person who’s bumping up his GPA??

but yes

yoongi is confident and he feels like he doesn’t need to go over what synthesis reactions are for the tenth time in a row

(also he forget a stack of flash cards at home that u reminded him three times to bring with him today to which he responded with ‘i’m NOT going to forget them just relax’ and he’s hoping u forgot about them because you don’t play around when it comes to flash cards)

he wants this study session to be a little more lax

a little more chill

a little less conversation and a little more ACTION (but not in,.,. not in a pervy way or anything)

yoongi decided to bring a little special something just to make things a little more interesting aND to celebrate the holidays!!

he’s being festive!!

he even taped strips of jingle bells to the edges of his skateboard :-)

“okay, hydrogen bonds.” you flip your notebook onto its front before whipping around and letting out a breath “hydrogen forms hydrogen bonds with three elements. hydrogen is fun. hydrogen is fOn. hydrogen forms hydrogen bonds with fluorine, oxygen, and nitrogen.”

…yeah that sounds right

you turn back around and flip over your notebook before quickly searching for your notes

yes!!!! you got it!!!! hydrogen is FON!!!! hyDRoGEN iS FON!!!!!

“up top, y/l/n!” you grin widely before giving yourself a high five

niCE

“just when i thought you couldn’t get any weirder.” you jump three feet into the air when you hear yoongi speak up and you let out a breath before placing a hand on your chest

“yoongi!” you clear your throat and lean back against the table a little bit

you’re just going to play it off as if you didn’t just tell yourself to give yourself a high five

“what, uh, what took you so long?”

yoongi raises a brow before checking the time on his phone “i’m three minutes early.”

you turn back a little to look at the time on your laptop

huh

would you look at that

yoongi is early

and of course you’re here before scheduled because of who you are as a person

“…well, what are you doing just standing there? let’s get to work!!” you clap your hands together before looking at yoongi expectantly and gesturing for him to take a seat

“just so that you’re aware, i’m pretty sure i know more about the different types of chemical reactions than you.”

you raise a brow before crossing your arms

that is certainly a vEry bold statement because you could talk about the different types of chemical reaction for hours and hours on end

“oh, really?” you scoff playfully as you turn to wipe down the whiteboard

you’ve been tutoring yoongi for the past couple of weeks without expecting anything in return

honestly it’s just fun to ramble on and on about something that you’re confident about aNd it’s fun to see the panic in his eyes when you ask him a question about what you just talked about

and!!!! teaching someone else about the thing that you have to review yourself is actually a pretty effective studying strategy

you tried the practice test the other night and you got 98% so it’s safe to say you’re going to make this final exam your biTCH-

“yep.” yoongi sighs and leans back against his chair “in fact, i bet you that i’ll get every single one of your questions right this session.”

“what happens if you don’t?”

“if i get even one question wrong, i will… play one of your dumb studying games.”

your eyes widen in excitement

“charades for chemists??” (an exciting upgrade from the original version of charades)

((u have to try to act out a reaction))

((it’s a lot more exciting than it sounds))

“but if i get every single one of your questions right, you’ll have to play one of my games.”

“…what kind of game?”

“you’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” yoongi smiles sweetly “it’s nothing like your dumb charades game, i can tell you that.”

you narrow your eyes suspiciously and yoongi shrugs

there’s no way he’d be able to get all of your questions right

obviously it’d be great if he got all of them right because that means these tutoring sessions are actually working but then again it’s yoongi

yoongi who uses pipettes to squeeze tiny spurts of air in your face just because ‘it’s fun!!’

yoongi who has the balls to juggle glass beakers in the middle of a lab in front of the professor

it’s yoongi

of course the idiotic things he does in class doesn’t exactly correlate to his intelligence

he actually did pretty well on the last lab report

“you have three seconds to decide if you wanna do this or not otherwise the offer’s off the table.” yoongi waves a hand in front of your face and you straighten up a little before sticking your hand out for him to shake

“alright, min yoongi. game on.”

the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a devilish smile

honey, you’ve got a big storm coming.

you flip your notebook open to the page where you have a bunch of practice questions written down and you skim the list

alright

you’ll throw yoongi a bone

“we’ll start off easy. what’s the difference between exothermic and endothermic reaction-“

“endothermic takes in energy - for example, ice melting - and exothermic gives off heat - for example, lighting a match.” yoongi answers without blinking

…

okay

that answer was word for word what you have written down in your notes

you should probably reconsider the whole throwing a bone thing

if anything u should probably take a couple bones away from yoongi

your competitive streak immediately kicks in once you realise the score board is 1-0 and you’re on the 0 end

“what does synthesis gas consist of?” you raise a brow

“before i answer that - you forgot to add a tally under my name.” yoongi points to the whiteboard and you kiss your teeth before whipping around and begrudgingly drawing a tally on the scoreboard “good girl.”

(you’ll never admit to him that hearing him call you that made your stomach do a little flip)

“answer the question.”

“synthesis gas is a fuel gas mixture consisting of hydrogen, carbon monoxide, and carbon dioxide. it intermediates in creating synthetic natural gas and for producing ammonia or methanol.”

.,,.,.and that’s 2-0 to yoongi

what in the hELL is going on

u know what

it’s fine!

it’s fine

maybe he’s just having a lucky day

all he has to do is screw up once

“-due to the conjugation double bond character in alkyl halide.” the fact that yoongi’s inspecting his nails as he answers your final question is oddly vERy irritating

you can’t believe it

yoongi got all 10 of your veRy tricky questions right

you should be proud because it’s because of you that he knows that he’s talking about but at the same time you didn’t think you were doing thAt great of a job at teaching him!!!!

but you’re looking at the scoreboard and it’s 10-0

there are 0 tallies under your name!!! ZERO!!! under youR NAME!!!

and now you have to play yOOngi’s dumb game instead of charades for chemists

if anything it’s his loss

“i told you you have to close your eyes to play my game.” yoongi reaches over to shut your notebook after he catches you glancing at it (to make sure he actually got the answers right and you didn’t misread anything) for the fifth time in two minutes

you have to accept defeat whether you like it or not

you let out a sigh before crossing your arms and shutting your eyes “what are the rules of this game? how does one win?”

“i’m going to show you something-“ you hear yoongi unzip his backpack “and you have to identify what it is and tell me what its purpose is within 30 seconds.”

huh

sounds easy enough

“so i win just by doing that?” your brows furrow and you resist the urge to open your eyes

“i guess you could say that.” you hear yoongi’s footsteps against the carpet and you freeze when you feel him standing right in front of you

“alright, open your eyes.” you immediately open them and-

“so, tell me, y/n-” yoongi lets out a sigh before glancing up at the mistletoe that he’s holding up in between the two of you “what do we have here?”

you swallow thickly and keep your eyes glued on the mistletoe

u know what that is

and u know what its purpose is

you could easily win this game right here and now so u don’t know what’s stopping you

you can feel yoongi staring at you and you know that if you make eye contact with him right now you will definitely combuST into flames

“that’s, um, well, i’m not a, uh, i’m not a botanist or anything, but that is a… that’s mistletoe.” you clear your throat “that is… mistletoe.”

“uh-huh. and, remind me again - isn’t mistletoe particularly special this time of the year?” yoongi hums and takes a step closer to you

you jump a little when you feel the bottom of the whiteboard dig into the small of your back

the little metal tray holding the whiteboard markers clatters a marker plops to the ground but you’ll deal with that later

because now it’s time to do what you do best

D E F L E C T

“mistletoe are actually hemiparasitic plants in which they kinda just suck water and nutrients from their host tress. did you know that?”

yoongi resists the urge to roll his eyes

he knows exactly what you’re doing (out of nervous habit) but for your sake he’ll play along

“oh yeah?”

“yep. and another fun fact! the mistletoe plant actually contains toxic amines, and eating its berries can cause vomiting and stomach pain.”

“…didn’t you say you weren’t a botanist-”

“-but if we’re talking about its relevance to the christmas holidays, then… well, traditionally, people, um, people… kiss underneath them.” you finish quietly and your eyes instinctively flicker down to yoongi’s pouty lips

“i like you a lot, y/n.” yoongi breathes out and you feel your heart hiccup

your cheeks flush and you feel the heat rushing up to your ears

o god

a couple seconds of silence goes by and you wonder if yoongi can hear your heart pounding in your chest

“if you don’t feel the same way, i-“

“i like you too.” you murmur shyly and yoongi lets out what sounds like a breath of relief

before he gets the chance to roAST you for taking so long to finally admit it to him, you’re pushing your lips against his in a gentle kiss with your hand pressed against his cheek

it takes yoongi a second to register that you initiated a kiss with him but once his brain catches up to his body, he starts kissing you back

a smile tugs at his mouth when you take a step closer to him and he automatically loops an arm around your waist before carelessly tossing the mistletoe aside

yoongi tilts his head as he deepens the kiss and the quiet ‘fuck’ he lets out when you nip at his bottom lip almost immediately makes you lightheaded

it’s when you’re reminded that literally anyone passing by the room would be able to see you through the glass door that you drag yourself away (reluctantly) and yoongi unintentionally lets out a whine

“so did i win?” your cheeks are still rosy and your heart is still racing but you’re trying to play it off as if you’re totally cool about kissing yoongi and that you’re totally cool about the mutual attraction between the two of you but that fact that you’re kinda bouncing on the balls of your feet like an excited child is probably not helping your case

and yoongi’s smiling so widely his cheeks are starting to hurt but it’s totally worth it

:-) !!!!

“you won but i’m still marking you down for killing the mood by talking about vomiting and stomach pain.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble tag

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kjack89 · 4 years

Text

Zoom

For the 2020 Same-Prompt Fic Challenge as set up by @shitpostingfromthebarricade, which had to use the quote, “I didn’t know you could do that”.

This is a different take on a COVID-19 self-isolation fic, mainly because I started my Quarantine AU before my state, at least, actually had a stay at home order in effect. That’ll come up at some point in that fic, but in the meantime, I thought it would be fun to come at it from a slightly different approach.

E/R, modern AU, Zoom call-related shenanigans and hijinks because why not?

Enjolras took a deep breath before clicking the link to the launch the first official virtual Les Amis meeting. The Stay at Home order had gone into effect almost two weeks, but with the chaos, Enjolras had made the decision to delay meetings. Between the Stay at Home order and navigating the schedules of those members who were essential workers, it had taken this long to find a time where they could all actually be on the Zoom call together, and even though he knew it was just going to be some of his closest friends, he still felt inexplicably nervous.

His nerves disappeared almost instantly when the first person he saw was Grantaire, hunched in the dark, a beer bottle just in view at his side. “Are you the first one on?” Enjolras asked, and Grantaire shrugged.

“It wasn’t like I was doing anything else,” he said, a little sourly, “especially considering—”

He was cut off by the tell-tale chime of someone else joining the meeting, and Combeferre appeared on screen. “Good evening,” Combeferre said, and Enjolras grinned at him.

“I know you and I just talked but it’s really nice to see you.”

Grantaire mimed throwing up. “Get a room, you two,” he said.

Combeferre flipped him off as several more people joined the meeting at once. For a few minutes, there was the usual wild cacophony of nearly a dozen people having at least a half dozen conversations at once, and Enjolras waited patiently for the general din to die down so that he could get started.

As per always, whether virtually or in person, Grantaire, Joly and Bossuet were the last ones to stop talking, and everyone else had mostly stopped when Joly asked, curiosity clear in his voice, “Grantaire, where the hell in your apartment are you?”

Grantaire glanced around himself. “Oh, uh, I’m in the closet – physically, obviously not metaphorically.”

He winked, and after a few scattered laughs from the group at large, Bossuet asked the question most seemed to be thinking. “Why are you in the closet?”

“Because my walls are paper thin and I didn’t want my mic picking up every time a train goes past?” Grantaire said, as if it was obvious.

Joly arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, but you’ve got your headphones on, so would it even pick it up?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes and sighed. “Ok, fine, truthfully, I’m hungover as fuck and the dark in the closet helps. Happy?”

“Hang on,” Feuilly said, jumping in, “It’s five in the evening and you’re hungover still?”

“What the fuck is this, twenty questions?” Grantaire snapped, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Besides, what the fuck else is there to do in isolation besides get drunk all the time?”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “As ever-fascinating as the subject of Grantaire’s drinking is,” he said, a hint of disapproval in his voice, “how about we actually get back on subject?” His arched eyebrow was enough to silent the rest of the conversation, and he allowed himself a brief moment of triumph before continuing, “Alright, I’m just going to go ahead and mute everyone— There. Ok. So obviously the biggest thing we have to worry about is further degradation of workers’ rights in light of this pandemic. We know the right-wing talking points, we know that they’re going to pivot pretty quickly toward being ok with sacrificing poor folks, and black and brown folks, and we need to figure out a way to safely demonstrate that we will do everything in our power to stop that from happening. We’re about three weeks out from International Workers Day, so I think that means—”

He broke off as his phone chimed. “Oh, hang on a second, I’m so sorry, I forgot to put it on silent—”

Again he broke off, this time because of the text from Combeferre: You appear to have muted yourself when you muted everyone else.

He looked in horror at his screen, at the 20-odd messaged in the Zoom chat, and at the telltale microphone icon with a line through it. He closed his eyes and counted to five before clicking to unmute himself. “Was no one going to tell me sooner?” he asked with a sigh.

“In fairness, we did,” Courfeyrac said after unmuting himself, grinning. “Not our fault you didn’t bother to check the chat.”

“Besides, we’re all social distancing,” Bossuet added. “What did you want us to do, hop in a car and drive to your place to let you know you were on mute?”

Enjolras gritted his teeth. “Preferably, yes,” he said, glaring at the screen. “Though it isn’t actually necessary, considering—”

“Why don’t we just cut to the chase and go over whatever damned document you shared us on before this whole thing began?” Grantaire interrupted. “Because I’m almost out of beer and at this point, this meeting could’ve been an email.”

There was what certainly sounded like a murmur of agreement, and Enjolras bristled. “Fine,” he snapped. “Everyone, open the document and let me know when you’ve got it opened.”

“And how would you like us to let you know, dear leader?” Grantaire asked, his voice saccharine sweet. “Should we all raise our hands when we’ve got it? Blink twice if we aren’t able to get into it? Perhaps bring into song and—”

“Or you could just tell us if you aren’t able to access it,” Courfeyrac interrupted, saving Enjolras from the rant he had been a second away from launching into.

“Besides which, he can tell if you’ve clicked away from the Zoom meeting by using Zoom’s attention-tracking feature,” Combeferre added, a note of warning in his voice.

Enjolras blinked. “I didn’t know you could do that,” he said, sounding surprised. “That seems like a huge invasion of privacy! Should we be switching to another platform? I don’t want—”

“The feature was permanently removed at the beginning of April,” Jehan interrupted, sounding bored. “The easiest way is probably just to see if we’re all in the Google Doc.”

“Right,” Enjolras said, and while it was hard to tell with the lighting in his shot, it certainly looked like he blushed, just a little. “That’s what I was planning on doing.”

Joly let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a hastily-stifled laugh. “In that case, it looks like we’re all in the doc.”

Enjolras heaved a sigh. “Very well,” he said. “Then let’s get started.”

The next twenty or so minutes of the meeting went without a hitch, and Enjolras felt himself finally relaxing, feeling much more like he would at any regular Les Amis meeting.

When they had finished with the document Enjolras sent before the meeting, he pivoted the conversation. “So obviously the federal government has been focused on mortgage relief, which is great for the owner class, but doesn’t do a hell of a lot for the renter class. I had Combeferre compile some statistics and proposed solutions, and I’m just going to share my screen with everyone to show those, give me a second—”

“Great time for me to get a refill,” Grantaire said, draining his beer bottle. “Someone chat me if I miss any other great technology SNAFUs.”

With that, the thumbnail of his image went black, just displaying a capital R, and Enjolras rolled his eyes before turning back to the statistics Combeferre had sent him. “Ok, they should be shared now, so Combeferre, go ahead and walk everyone through them, and I’ll just scroll through as you go.”

“Absolutely,” Combeferre said, adjusting his glasses, his tone already sounding professorial. “So let’s start with this chart demonstrating renters vs owners in all the city wards.”

He took over from there in earnest and Enjolras muted himself before sitting back in his chair and breathing a sigh of something close to relief. As little trouble as he had talking in front of any variety of large groups of people, he didn’t do so well in virtual meetings, and it was nice to let someone else do the talking for the moment.

A hand touched Enjolras’s shoulder and he practically jumped up, whirling around before instantly relaxing again when he saw who it was. “Jesus Christ,” he huffed. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Grantaire said, sounding anything but. “I told you I needed another beer.”

“I know, but I didn’t think you’d stop in here on your way back to the closet.” Enjolras couldn’t quite stop the smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Sorry to make you go in the closet, by the way – it was the only part of my apartment I could think of that, well, didn’t look like my apartment.”

Grantaire shrugged. “It’s honestly not bad,” he said, “though being out here is infinitely better.”

Enjolras nodded sympathetically. “Better lighting,” he offered, and Grantaire rolled his eyes.

“Better company,” he corrected, leaning down to press a kiss to Enjolras’s forehead.

Enjolras laughed, somewhat breathily, and tilted his head up to capture Grantaire’s lips with his own. “It’s not like you don’t get to see me on the screen,” he pointed out, and Grantaire gave him a look.

“That’s not the same and you know it,” he huffed.

“There’s only another half hour left,” Enjolras told him. “And then after that, I’m all yours.”

“No,” Grantaire corrected. “After that, you’ve got at least three other meetings you’re supposed to be sitting in on, so forgive my lack of enthusiasm, but—”

He let out an ‘oof’ as Enjolras pulled him down onto his lap. “Yes, but for those meetings, I don’t have to be on screen and I also don’t care all that much about those, which means that you and I can spend the entire time—” He tilted Grantaire’s chin up with two fingers, his grin matching Grantaire’s. “—doing this.”

He kissed Grantaire, deeper this time, his mouth opening against his when Grantaire ran his fingers through Enjolras’s hair and—

“Um, Enjolras?”

Enjolras pulled back from Grantaire, who groaned and leaned forward to rest his head against Enjolras’s shoulder, and reached out quickly to unmute himself. “Yeah, Combeferre, what’s up?”

There was a moment of silence before Combeferre cleared his throat delicately and asked, “You do know that when you present your screen, we can still see you, right?”

Enjolras and Grantaire froze. “Wait, what?” Enjolras asked weakly, as Grantaire repeated, “You can see— Oh, shit.”

Without warning, Grantaire practically rolled off of Enjolras’s lap, assumedly dropping out of frame as he fell heavily to the floor. Of course, judging by the cat calls and hysterical laughter that greeted them, it was far too little, far too late.

Surprisingly, Joly was one of the first to stop laughing, mostly so that he could ask, mock-stern, “Enjolras, what is Grantaire doing at your place in violation of the Stay at Home order?”

“It’s not technically in violation of the Stay at Home order,” Enjolras muttered, his face beet red.

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bahorel asked.

Grantaire reappeared on screen as he slowly struggled to his feet. “It means, uh, it means we’ve been keeping something from you,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “And when the stay at home order was announced, Enjolras thought it would make more sense for me to stay with him than to stay at my place.”

“How—” Courfeyrac started, his voice cracking. “How could you possibly keep this from us?! During a mandated isolation order?! I could have been living for this instead of rewatching Love is Blind a million times on Netflix!”

Enjolras sighed. “We didn’t want to tell anyone until we knew for a fact it was going to work.”

“And?” Jehan prompted. “Is it?”

Enjolras and Grantaire exchanged glances, a smile returning to both of their faces. “Well, we haven’t killed each other yet,” Grantaire said bracingly. “So I guess it just might be.”

“Ok, but you have to tell us—” Bossuet started, but Enjolras cut him off.

“We aren’t really going to spend the rest of the time talking about this, are we?” he asked exasperatedly.

“Why, you got someplace better to be?” Courfeyrac asked, clearly still smarting over having not been told earlier.

Enjolras considered it for just a moment. “Actually, yes,” he said. “We’ll reconvene next week.”

With that, he clicked the Leave Meeting button, turning to look up at Grantaire. “What do you say, want to go do something better?”

Grantaire grinned. “Absolutely,” he said, fumbling for his phone in his pocket, where the Zoom call was still active. “Let me just—”

Before he could leave the meeting on his phone, they could both hear Courfeyrac squawk, “Hang on, did he just hang up on us?” at the same time Bahorel demanded, “Wait, how is Marius now the host?”

Grantaire laughed as he left the meeting, sliding his phone back in his pocket before pulling Enjolras out of his chair. “Now,” he murmured, leaning in, “where were we?”

Enjolras kissed him hungrily, both of them stumbling towards Enjolras’s bedroom and quickly stripping out of their clothes and falling onto Enjolras’s bed. After a long moment, Enjolras pulled away to glare at Grantaire’s pile of clothing, from which his phone kept chirping obnoxiously. ”Who is blowing up your phone right now?”

“It’s Venmo,” Grantaire said with a laugh. “Just our friends, paying me what I’m due. Now get back here.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes but went back to kissing him before pulling away again. “Hang on, does that mean that you bet on us?”

“You bet your ass I did,” Grantaire said, grinning. “Easiest hundred bucks I’ve ever made, and when the Stay at Home order is lifted, I am using that money to take you out—”

“To a locally-owned, locally-sourced, vegetarian restaurant?” Enjolras asked, only half-teasing.

“To wherever you want to go,” Grantaire told him. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

For once, Enjolras was only too happy to oblige.

#same prompt fic challenge #exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjolras #grantaire #enjoltaire #les amis #fanfiction #modern au #les miserables #covid-19 #zoom call #hijinks and shenanigans

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years

Text

The Second Principle of Magic

Septics Inverted

A JSE Fanfic

So fun fact about the title: recently when I’m stuck, I’ve been googling “phrases related to (blank)” and taking part of those as the story title. So you can totally google this title to get the full phrase. Anyway, about the story itself. This is the longest one I’ve done in a while, but that’s because I don’t think there was a good point at which I could’ve divided this in two. We need to get Schneep back! Or at least, the boys need to, with the help of some new temporary allies. Anti’s not in this one much, but I think that’s okay. Happy reading, guys

Read the intro story: Part One | Part Two

Various other AU-related stuff found here

Taglist: @awkward-bullshit @watermelonsinmyattic @asunachinadoll @a-humble-narcissus @odysseus-is-best-boi @acuriousquail @beerecordings @human-being-kinda @romanticslimecreature @bloodygoldensam @rachelclutch @septic-nebula-art @toboboby @the-parentheticals @rammypaige @jc-pavanne @amyxmiaplay @rats-this-username-is-taken @immabethehero @eridangan @bupine

Somewhere in the apartment, a clock chimed five. The shadows had moved significantly, sunlight warming different spots of the room. Chase appeared to be sleeping in his chair. And Jackie was about to lose his mind.

“This is taking too long!” He paced the room, ignoring every twinge from the not-entirely healed wound on his leg. “It shouldn’t be taking this long, if Anti’s supposed to be so powerful. Where is he?”

Jameson, sitting on the sofa, took out his watch and checked the time. {He said it might take an hour,} he ventured. {And...well, perhaps his estimate could have been a bit rough...}

“Or maybe something happened!” Jackie said, throwing his hand in the air. “Hell, he’s not exactly fond of Henrik, maybe he just decided not to do anything.”

{Anti wouldn’t do that,} Jameson stated flatly. {He has his principles.}

“How would you kn—oh. Yeah.” Jackie was still getting used to the fact that Jameson and Anti knew each other. It was a little...odd. The two of them were so different, after all. “Well, whatever. It stands that he’s taking too long, and it makes sense that something could’ve happened, whatever that is. “ Jackie paused in his pacing. “Which means that we’ll have to do this ourselves.”

“Oh yeah, great idea.” Chase, apparently not as asleep as he appeared, lifted his head. “You remember what happened last time? I’m pretty sure Marvin could’ve killed us if he hadn’t gotten distracted.”

“Oh shush.” Jackie stomped down the part of him that agreed with Chase’s words. “We are not leaving Henrik to be...I-I don’t even know what Marvin wants with him, but we are not going to let it happen.” He patted his belt instinctively, before remembering the police took all his weapons. He grunted in frustration, and whirled around. “Jameson, do you have anything in this place I can use?”

Jameson looked mildly surprised, but nodded, slowly, and pointed to a door. {Down the hall, last door on the right.}

“Whoa, hang on a moment!” Chase scrambled to his feet and rushed across the room to block Jackie from moving forward. “Alright, dude, I don’t want to let Schneep get hurt either, but we can’t just rush in there! We need a plan!”

“Do we have time for a plan?!” Jackie demanded.

“If we don’t want to get killed, yes!” Chase grabbed Jackie by the arms. “Look. You were there. You remember what happened to—to everything in that whole area! It’s only luck that neither of us died! And I know it sounds cliche, but we’re not gonna be much help to Schneep if we’re dead, are we?”

Jackie stared at him. Then took a deep, slow breath. “Alright. Plan, then.”

Chase nodded, not bothering to hide his relief, and let go of his arms.

“So what’re we gonna need?” Jackie asked. “Are we going to take him out, or...?”

“Y’know, I don’t think we can,” Chase said, shrugging. “Maybe we should just try not to run into him.”

“Well, that’s if that’s possible,” Jackie mused. “Maybe we should pack something, just in case.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Wait...shit, we don’t even know where he is.”

Jameson coughed, drawing the others’ attention. {I do believe I have a solution for both of those issues. The locating, and the, ah, firepower.}

“Really?” Jackie asked, intrigued. “Well, do share.”

Jameson took his phone out of his pocket and started swiping and tapping across the screen. {I...recently made contact with a pair of magicians,} Jameson said slowly. {They got word of a black magic magician in the area, and are searching for him. I’m sure if we tell them that we may have a way to help find him...}

“We do?” Chase said, latching onto the last part. “What?”

{I have Marvin’s soul seeker,} Jameson explained. {None of us can use it, since none of us have any natural magic, but perhaps these magicians can. I’m sure I can negotiate their help on this venture. We both...both want to find him, after all.} Something flickered across Jameson’s face. Something...sad, almost grieving. But it’s quickly gone.

Jackie nodded. “Okay, so we get these magicians on our side, and together we track down Marvin. Then what?”

“Then we stealth mission it, bro,” Chase said. “Sneak in, get the doc, and get out. Don’t get killed in the process.”

“I can work with that,” Jackie said, bouncing on his heels. God, finally they were going to do something.

A grin tugs at Chase’s mouth. “You seem excited. And bouncy.”

“I’m worried about Schneep, I’m tired of waiting for the glitch bitch, and I haven’t taken my brain-stop-giving-me-useless-energy-please pills in at least a week,” Jackie said. He laughed a bit. “Of course I’m bouncy. Jameson? When can we meet these magician guys?”

Jameson was silent for a moment, frowning down at the screen of his phone. Then he nodded. {They just responded. Luckily, they know where this place is, so we don’t have to worry about you two being seen in public and possibly arrested. Perhaps half an hour from now?}

“Got it,” Jackie nodded. “Now all we need are the weapons. In case the worse happens, you know. Let’s go get ‘em.”

- - - - - - - - - -

░░▒ ░▒ ▒░

░ ▒░

░ ▒░░ ░

Anti glitched upright with a scream, sounding more electric than organic. Before he knew what was happening, he was on his feet, knife in hand.

“Whoa! Hey, Anti, it’s okay! It’s all fine!”

A small green glow darted in front of Anti’s face, drawing his attention. Details of the world slowly loaded in. The people came first. It started with Jack, standing nearby, reaching out as if to steady Anti if he started to fall. Then came four others, one after another. They all looked alike, with dark hair and similar builds. Sam was close by, hovering in the corner of Anti’s vision worriedly. Then the room started to register. It looked vaguely like a doctor’s office, one you would go to for a check-up. Except there was a layer of water on the floor at least an inch deep.

“W̨h̡er͝e is this?” Anti asked, slowly lowering his knife. Then two of the other people in the room finally clicked in his mind. He shot them a look. “Ah, it’s you two. Emo and pink.”

“Nice to see you too, Anti,” Dark nodded from where he was standing in the corner. “Are you sure you don’t want to take me up on my offer to help anytime soon?”

Anti rolled his eye, turning his attention to the other one. “Wilford. Been a while.”

“Charming to see your face outside of a TV screen,” Wilford drawled. He was lounging against the nearest counter, holding a drink of some kind. No idea where he got that from.

“And...I don’t remember the other two’s names,” Anti said.

Jack huffed, exasperated. “This is Edward. He’s the House’s doct—guy who heals people. And that’s G.”

Edward smiled a bit in greeting. G nodded once.

“Oh, now I remember.” Anti tilted his head. He made eye contact with G and didn’t look away. He was still having trouble figuring out the electric signal around that one. “So where am I?”

“Well, you’re in my office,” Edward piped up. “We thought it would be the best place, since we weren’t sure if...” He paused, looking for the right word. “...things were going to turn out okay.”

“You...you really should’ve seen what happened.” Jack smiled, but it was shaky clearly backed by nerves. “Um...how much do you remember about what happened?”

Anti switched his attention back to Jack. “Well, I lost a fight pretty badly, and thought it would be a good idea to come here. So I did. And I saw you. And then everything...b͞r͢ók̷e͠.” He wasn’t sure if there was a better word for it.

Jack nodded. “You were...i-it was...I’ve never seen you act like that before. There were so many glitches, a-and not just computery, they kind of looked like...I don’t know, like shadows or something. And your eyes were open but you weren’t moving or reacting to anything and I just—” Jack took a deep breath. “I-I was...it was kind of...scary.”

"That sounds bad,” Anti admitted.

“Scans revealed a lack of structural integrity in your body,” G suddenly said. “It appeared as though it was dissolving into an unknown energy, in addition to the damage done by the acidic substance.”

“Yeah, I do that,” Anti said bluntly. True, usually he was in control of the dissolving, but it wasn’t unexpected. “What do you mean by ‘acidic substance?’”

G paused. “The origin of the liquid was unable to be determined.” He didn’t sound too happy that he wasn’t able to figure it out.

“Whatever it was, it was purple,” Jack explained. “And it kept...acid is the only way I’m thinking to fucking describe it, it was burning up your body. We had to wash it off.” He kicked at the water covering the floor, making a splash. “Now, I-I don’t know how accurate this is, but it must’ve been, like, some sort of super-strong magic.”

“It was.” A concentrated blast of Void magic. Anti hadn’t been prepared for that, but he was planning on it now. Speaking of which... “I need to leave.”

“Whoa, hey, you can’t just leave!” Jack said, taken aback. “You were fucking missing chunks of your body just a few minutes ago! And an arm!”

“Well, I’m fine now.”

“Yeah, how did you manage to heal from that?” Edward wondered. “For the past hour or so, there was no change. And then all of a sudden the missing bits filled up with static and it was all better!”

“I don’t have an answer for you, doctor.” Anti’s voice suddenly lowered. “And I advise you not to go looking for one.”

Edward suddenly paled, taking a step back. Then he fixed a smile on his face. “Well, now that this whole mess has been taken care of, I have other things to do. G, let’s go.”

“But—”

“You have paperwork, don’t you? I, uh, don’t think we’re needed here anymore.”

G still looked like he wanted to protest, but he folded his arms and followed Edward out of the room anyway. Dark and Wilford did not go with them, staying in their spots. The two of them exchanged a look.

“Alright, you know, it’s good that you’re doing better,” Jack said. Sam settled on his shoulder and nodded. “But we don’t know if there’ll be any lingering effects or anything. Oh, and if...this happened to you after one fight, what’ll happen if you go charging in now?”

“It’ll be fine, Jack,” Anti said, voice softening a bit to sound reassuring.

“You don’t know that!” Jack said, eyes wide. “Y-you can’t just—what if something more permanent—I-I don’t know!”

“Now, forgive me for butting in,” Wilford said, butting in. “But it sounds like you could do with a little bit of help, camera man.”

Anti whirled to face him. “I’ll be alright,” he said, exasperated. “I was just a little unprepared, and underestimated him. I hadn’t seen a Void in a while—”

A high-pitched whine suddenly pierced the air, leaving a ringing aftertone. The surroundings seemed to crack, for a moment showing nothing but blackness. Then it settled. Anti froze, and slowly turned to look at Dark. Though his posture hadn’t changed, and he hadn’t taken a step away from his spot in the corner, Dark was...tense. Shoulders a bit stiffer than they were a moment ago, hands gripping the top of his cane a bit tighter. If he’d been breathing before, he certainly wasn’t now.

Anti’s eye narrowed. “But you have. Haven’t you?”

Dark glanced at Wilford, who looked as if the sudden shift in the atmosphere had soured his mood. Then Dark nodded once. “It’s been some time, but...yes.”

Jack looked back and forth between the two of them. “Wh...what’s a Void?” he asked. “Is...is that something to do with Marvin?”

“Well...” Anti shifted on his feet. “Yes. A Void is a human consumed by black magic.”

“Oh, it doesn’t have to be black magic.” Dark straightened his tie. “Anyone who goes messing about where they shouldn’t, who finds themselves drawn in by a dark force, could just as easily turn into an empty Husk. It’s just that black magic is the most common means.”

Jack backed up a bit. His brows drew together as he tensed, concerned. “‘Consumed by a dark force’ doesn’t sound too good.”

“It isn’t,” Dark agreed.

“I...” Jack opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He rubbed his arms, shrinking a bit. Sam scooted closer to his neck, pressing against it as if to reassure him. “I’m...not sure how to feel about...that happening to Marvin.”

“That’s okay,” Anti said softly. “You don’t have to figure it out right now.”

Jack nodded, covering his mouth with his hand. He walked over to the nearest chair and sat down.

“Are...you alright?” Anti asked hesitantly.

“Fine,” Jack said. “No, I-I mean...I’m a bit...I don’t know. Just...give me a moment. Keep talking, it’s okay.”

“Well...if you insist.” Anti turned back to Dark. “You’ve known a Void, then? In recent times?”

Dark and Wilford exchanged a knowing look. “Fairly recent, yes,” Dark said.

“Haven’t seen the chap in a while, though,” Wilford muttered.

Anti’s eyes narrowed. “Is it another one of your doppelgangers?” Neither of them answered, but that was an answer in and of itself. Anti sighed. “I swear, every time I see you two, another one pops up.”

“Have you met the new three?” Wilford asked cheerfully.

“This isn’t the time for that,” Dark chided. Wil chuckled, taking another sip of his drink.

Anti folded his arms. “You know, I think I will take you up on your offer to help.” If he was being honest, he didn’t really think he needed it. He wasn’t planning on holding back the next time he ran into the Void. But it couldn’t hurt to hold as many cards as possible in this game. “I need you to tell me everything you know about Voids.”

Dark raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

“Yes, everything,” Anti repeated. “I said it’s been a while since I’ve seen one, better brush up. Do all Voids have the same weakness? What about abilities?” He paused. “And do you know if there’s any way to undo what’s been done?”

“Well, in that case.” Dark rolled his shoulders. “Might as well get comfortable, because this will take some time.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Jackie had never seen real magicians before. Other than Marvin, of course, but he’d always known Marvin was something of an outsider when it came to this magical community. Until Jameson had filled him and Chase in on the situation, Jackie hadn’t even known magicians had governments. So he had no idea what to expect, waiting in the lobby of the building underneath Jameson’s apartment.

Yet somehow, when the two magicians showed up, he immediately thought they looked like how magicians would. They introduced themselves as Frederick and Yvonne. Frederick was taller, with dark hair and eyes, and a swirling tattoo along the side of his neck. Yvonne’s hair was dyed purple and blue, her eyes lighter in color. They wore the same sort of professional clothing, but there was something about it that seemed a bit...well, magical.

“So you two are the ones Mr. Jackson mentioned?” Yvonne checked the message on her phone. “Jackie and Chase, right?”

“Yeah. I’m Jackie, that’s Chase.” Jackie gestured at Chase, who nodded but didn’t say anything.

“Alright, got it.” Yvonne pocketed her phone. “So, neither of you practice magic, but you’re aware of it, right?”

“Um...yeah. That doesn’t like, break any magic laws, does it?” Jackie asked cautiously.

Frederick made a huffing sort of laugh. “No, not at all. Look, the ABIM, and really all the people in charge all over the world, aren’t concerned with secrecy on an individual level. As long as people as a whole don’t know. That could cause...so many problems.”

“I never understood that,” Chase muttered. “Like, in books and stuff. Why’s it a secret?”

“Hmm, go talk to government officials looking to weaponize anything, and then if you’re still confused, come back to that question,” Yvonne chuckled. Then her face fell into a more serious expression. “Anyway, the sooner we get going, the better. Jackson said that a friend of yours got caught up in this?”

Jackie nodded. His hand fell to his belt, restocked with blades that Jameson kept stashed for emergencies. If there was ever an emergency, this was it.

Frederick and Yvonne looked at each other. “...sorry about that,” Frederick muttered. “You know, that it happened. But if we hurry, we can get there before anything bad...well.” He cleared his throat and straightened. “We’re going to need the soul seeker.”

Jameson nodded. One moment please, he signed. He’d brought a backpack with him, which he now took off and set on the ground. After a moment of digging, he took out a small, spherical object wrapped in a white towel, which he passed to Frederick.

The magician unwrapped the towel, revealing the soul seeker. It looked the same as ever—a glass orb filled with swirling smoke. Frederick rested a hand against the side, and watched as the smoke turned a dark forest green, then gathered together in the center and began branching off, like a miniature tree. “Okay, good, it works,” Frederick nodded. He passed the seeker to Yvonne. “You do it, you’re a better tracker.”

“Why thank you very much.” Yvonne flashed a smile, taking the seeker. The moment she took it, the branching green in the center burst apart into a wild tempest, the mist now pale sky blue. She took the sphere in both hands, looking down at it as her brows furrowed together in concentration. The mist suddenly flickered wildly through a few different colors and modes—gray-red that dripped at the sides, olive yellow that roiled like a sea in a storm—before landing on purple. Dark violet sparks snapped angrily at the edges of the glass containing them. Yvonne’s expression suddenly shifted—to surprise.

Frederick seemed to notice that. “Is...is something wrong, Eve?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Yvonne shook her head. “Let’s just...just do this.” She blinked, and her eyes started to glow sky blue. Almost too quietly to hear, she began muttering words.

{That...was recognition.} Jameson’s words projected into Jackie and Chase’s minds, but only to them. To the magicians, he remained silent, checking the time on his watch. {She recognized the seeker’s memory of Marvin’s soul. How...odd.}

“Got it!” Yvonne looked away from the seeker, her eyes retaining their glow. “I can see the way. C’mon, let’s go. You three are coming, too?”

“Of course we are!” Jackie said. “This was our idea.”

“Great, there should be room in the car for all of us,” Frederick said, doing a quick head count.

“Car?” Chase asked, surprised. “Can’t you just...teleport us, or something?”

Frederick laughed. “Oh, if only. It would take so much power to teleport even one person farther than a few blocks. No, cars are faster.”

“Especially with how far away this feels,” Yvonne added.

Well, the three of us are ready, Jameson signed. Let’s go.

Frederick sighed. “We have to adapt the translation spells for signed languages.”

“He just said they’re ready to go, don’t worry,” Yvonne said. “Besides, I’m sure there are transpells for signs somewhere out there.” She tucked the soul seeker underneath her arm, not letting go of it. “I’m driving, by the way.”

“What?! No, it’s my car!” Frederick protested.

“And you don’t know where we’re going, so I’m driving,” Yvonne insisted.

Frederick sighed, but waved his hand, as if relenting.

“Why are we standing around talking? There’s no time to lose!” Jackie headed towards the door. “Let’s find them.”

- - - - - - - - - -

They had to abandon the car eventually, as the tracking spell led them into the forest surrounding the city. There, even though the late summer sun wouldn’t set for another two hours at least, the trees darkened the area to evening lighting. Luckily, Jameson brought a flashlight, and the magicians were able to conjure orbs of soft light as they walked onward.

The longer they walked, the more anxious Jackie became. He and Chase had gotten lost in these woods...was it only earlier today? God, it was hard to believe. So much had happened since the wreck. Speaking of which, now that they were actually starting to do something, Jackie was replaying the events of the crash over and over. Nerves were starting to eat away at his composure. But he had to push through them. It was just like facing any other criminal. Except instead of guns, this one had magic. But in both cases, you didn’t want to be caught.

“So, remember, we want to get in and out quickly,” Jackie said quietly. Something about the forest made him want to lower his voice. “This is a rescue mission.”

“Damn right it is,” Chase agreed.

Frederick turned to look over his shoulder at them. “You two can do it that way if you want to, but our job is to take in any sources of black magic. That includes this magician.”

“We can do it both ways,” Chase said. “But, uh, please don’t give us away.”

“What do you two do anyway?” Jackie wondered out loud. “Are you like those people in the Harry Potter books? The ones I don’t remember the names of, who catch the dark wizards.”

“I don’t remember either, but, uh, kinda.” Frederick nodded. “We’re like magic police. Track down any black magic, and deal with it appropriately. The ABIM even has different divisions, like a police department. Yvonne used to work in the undercover sector, in fact.”

Jackie narrowed his eyes. “How do you ‘deal with it?’”

Frederick shrugged. “Depends on the severity of the offense. Someone just messing about will probably get, like, a fine, or a few months of time-out.” He chuckled, but then his expression fell. “But if the person turns out to be a more serious threat, they can be put away forever, have their magic locked, or even...well. Dealt with.”

“I see.” Jackie fell silent. Part of him wondered how Marvin would rank on that scale. And part of him wondered if he cared if Marvin faced the most serious consequence.

Meanwhile, Yvonne and Jameson were walking farther ahead. Yvonne’s eyes still glowed blue as she followed the trail only she could see. The soul seeker was still clutched in her hands, the mist inside locked on the purple sparks of Marvin’s soul. “Handy that you had this,” Yvonne muttered. “How’d you find it?”

It’s a long story, Jameson signed. The short version is I had to work around a protective spell and a locked desk drawer.

“I’m sorry, what was that last word?”

D-R-A-W-E-R, Jameson finger-spelled the word.

“Oh.” Yvonne paused. “Um, sorry I wasn’t able to get that.”

It’s alright, you’re doing really well anyway, Jameson signed encouragingly. It is lucky you know sign, by the way.

“Well. Thought it would be handy to learn,” Yvonne shrugged. “Still having trouble forming the words myself, though.”

Most people find it the other way around. Interesting.

They fell silent for a moment. Then: “I think we’re getting close.”

Is that so? Jameson asked. Well, in that case, I think this is a good time to show you something. It might come in handy, for what we’re going into.

“Oh?”

Jameson dug into his pocket, and withdrew a silver pocket watch. Here, you can look at it, he said, passing it over.

Yvonne shifted the soul seeker to one hand, taking the watch with the other. “Hmm. This is a talisman, right?” She turned it over in her fingers. “I can recognize the runes, but I’m not very good at reading them. I’m sure you can do all...all sorts of...” She trailed off. She continued walking forward, following the tracking spell, but her eyes remained fixed on the watch.

{All sorts of things with it.} Jameson finished the thought for her. {I have a few questions for you. And a favor as well.}

About fifteen minutes later, the group ran into the walls of a small cabin, hidden between the trees. “This looks important,” Chase muttered. “Is this the place?”

After a short pause, Yvonne nodded. “Yeah, the spell ends here.”

Jackie stepped back a bit, looking at the cabin as a whole. “Not what I was expecting, I’ll be honest,” he said. “But I guess it makes sense that he’d want to stay as far away from people as possible.” He paused. “Antisocial prick.”

“Hey, so fun fact about black magic,” Frederick said. “A common side effect of using it too much is withdrawing from people. Or, you know, society as a whole.”

“Oh. Huh.” Jackie...wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He quickly concluded that Marvin was still a prick and decided to move on. “Anyway, where’s the entrance?”

“I don’t know,” Yvonne said. She handed the soul seeker to Jameson, who slipped it back in his backpack. “Why don’t you guys go find it? I’ll stay outside, keep watch.”

Frederick looked surprised at that. “Really? You don’t want to come?”

“Not this time,” Yvonne said, shaking her head. “But if you call for me, I’ll come running.”

“Well...okay, then.” Frederick frowned, but turned to look at the other three. “So the rest of us are all going in?” When they all nodded in unison, he continued. “Okay. I think stealth would be the best approach. That way you can find your friend and get out quickly, and I can hopefully get the jump on the magician.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” Jackie agreed.

“Yep, sounds solid.” Chase’s hand drifted towards his belt, hovering around his pistol. Just in case.

They found the front door easily enough—it was a small cabin, after all. It was locked, but Frederick whispered a few words, and a wisp of dark green magic twisted around the handle, and suddenly it was open. He frowned at that. “No defensive spells,” he muttered. “That’s not a good sign. Be careful.”

The interior of the house was absolutely wrecked. The furniture was still broken, and there were black trails and indents on the walls, the remains of a struggle. What’s more, the air felt heavy, squeezing the intruder’s hearts in its icy fingers. It was like going too far underwater and starting to feel the pressure.

Frederick shivered, conjuring a small blossom of green light to illuminate the dark interior. “This feels...wrong,” he whispered. “More than the usual dark magic, I mean.”

Jameson waved, drawing the other’s attention. I can locate two other human minds in this building. One through there—he pointed at a simple wooden door in the wall—and one through here. He pointed at another, nearer door. This one had a chair, bleeding stuffing from its upholstery, shoved under the handle.

“Nice,” Frederick nodded, impressed. “Can you tell who is which?”

Jackie snorted. “I don’t think he would want to shove a chair in front of the room he was in,” he muttered, already approaching said chair. It wasn’t too heavy, but its legs scraped along the floor, so he had to go slow to avoid making too much noise. After a moment, Chase joined him, and the two of them were able to move the chair out of the way. Jameson hovered nearby, while Frederick watched from a ways away.“Alright.” Jackie took a deep breath, hand resting on the door handle. “Here we go.” And with that, he pulled it open.

The room beyond was even darker than the living room. Jackie reached inside, feeling along the wall until he found a light switch and managed to flip it on. A single lightbulb mounted in the ceiling flickered to life. Now, being able to see, it was evident that this was actually meant to be a closet of some kind, though it was empty except for a few cardboard boxes that looked empty. But Jackie and Chase didn’t care about those. Their eyes immediately and simultaneously locked on the figure lying on the ground.

“Schn—!” Jackie couldn’t even get the word out, he was too flooded with a combination of relief and worry. Chase didn’t even say anything, just pushed into the closet and fell to his knees next to Schneep. Jackie was quick to follow, and once the two of them had vacated the doorway Jameson entered as well, though he didn’t kneel on the floor with the other two.

“Is he okay?” Chase asked in a hushed voice.

“I-I don’t know.” Jackie gave Schneep a once-over. Number one thing to notice: he was either asleep or unconscious. Hopefully the former and not the latter. His wrists were tied together with strips of cloth, slightly bloodstained from a few small cuts along his wrists. But the most pressing problem appeared to be the purple-stained veins on the side of his forehead. As Jackie watched, the violet coloring seemed to spread, almost unnoticeably. “It...doesn’t look like he’s in immediate danger?” Jackie guessed.

Chase reached forward and shook Schneep’s shoulder. He didn’t stir. Chase pressed his fingers to Schneep’s neck. “I think that’s steady. And normal,” Chase said. “So there’s that. But what about the purple stuff?”

“I don’t know about that, either.” Jackie pulled Schneep upward, wrapping his arms around him. Schneep’s head rolled to the side, and he still didn’t stir. Jackie was starting to lean towards the ‘unconscious’ option from earlier. He looked up, noticing Jameson nearby. “Hey, can you do anything about this?” He asked. “With your...y’know.” He tapped the side of his head.

Before Jameson could answer, there was a scream from outside the closet.

Chase and Jackie looked at each other, and instantly they were both on their feet, with Chase drawing his gun and Jackie lifting Schneep into his arms. Chase went outside first, passing by Jameson.

While they’d been busy finding their lost friend, it appeared that Frederick had gone ahead and decided to confront the other human mind Jameson had sensed. Now, he was climbing to his feet, having apparently fallen over some of the broken furniture. His eyes were glowing emerald green, cables of magic looping around his hands. Standing directly across from him, only a few feet away and glowing with darkness, was Marvin.

“I don’t know who you are, but you are going to regret ever stepping foot in my house,” Marvin hissed. And he flung out a hand, black-purple magic splattering away.

Frederick gasped, and raised his hands in turn. A green shield sprang up from the ground just in time. The purple magic splashed against the shield and immediately started burning through, but it gave Frederick enough time to roll away and launch his own attack. Green magic sprouted from the ground around Marvin, wrapping like vines around his legs.

Marvin made a sound of frustration, and dropped a ball of dark violet to the floor, where it burst into bright purple, eating away the vines. He made another ball and threw it toward Frederick, who caught it in a woven net of green light, spinning the ball’s trajectory back around toward Marvin. He ducked as the ball soared over his head and split against the wall. And he screamed. “What are you even doing here?!”

Frederick’s eyes darted to the side for a split second, glancing toward where Chase and Jackie were standing, frozen as they watched the battle between magicians. But that split second was long enough for Marvin to follow his gaze. Purple eyes turned on the two, and immediately flared brighter. “You!” He shrieked. He threw his arm across the room, and a wheel of black light spun to life, heading right for the other two. Chase pushed Jackie, still holding Schneep, to the side. But before the wheel got too close, it suddenly glowed green. Sprouts of emerald light burst from within the wheel, destroying it.

Marvin screamed again, whirling in between Frederick and the others. “Why won’t you diiie?!” He wailed. It wasn’t clear who he was talking to.

Chase checked the safety on his gun. Behind him, Jackie regained his balance, holding Schneep close to him. Jackie started backing towards the door, while Chase aimed the pistol at Marvin. “Could say the same thing about you,” he muttered. “You got shot, like, twice. But maybe that just wasn’t enough.”

Marvin snarled, black violet dripping from his hands and arms. “I don’t care how many times you pull that trigger. It won’t stop me. Not now! Not with—” He suddenly stopped. He’d noticed someone hovering in the closet doorway that he hadn’t seen before. “You.”

Jameson froze. It was no use hiding anymore, not when Marvin had seen him.

Time might as well have stopped. The two of them stared at each other, neither moving. The others in the room seemed locked in place as well, fixed in place by the air that had turned to a solid, it was so thick with unspoken words and leftover emotions. Nobody moved. Nobody wanted to move.

Then Marvin snapped.

“Get out!” He threw a bolt of darkest violet from his hands. Jameson jumped to the side as it left a black crater in the wall beside him. But it was quickly followed by a barrage more. “Get out! Get out of my sight! I don’t want to see you! I don’t want to hear you! I don’t want you in my thoughts! GET OUT!”

Jameson scrambled backwards, almost tripping over nothing as he tried to get as far from the bolts of burning magic as possible. Though they passed close enough to feel the searing darkness emanating from them, none of them hit him. Maybe they weren’t meant to. Regardless, as soon as there was a slight gap in the onslaught, he turned and ran. Chase and Jackie, seeing an opportunity, followed quickly, fleeing into the woods.

As soon as they were out of sight, Marvin stopped, panting. He didn’t like the knot of feelings in his chest. He didn’t want to touch it. If he touched it, the knot would beg to be untangled, and he’d get lost in it.

There was a small noise behind him. Anger rose in a wave, and Marvin turned on it. Frederick was still in here. Marvin growled, squeezing his fists tight enough for his nails to leave imprints on his palms. “You. Are going. To die.”

Frederick immediately cast another shield, stronger than his first attempt. Marvin’s magic splattered against it, starting to eat away. Frederick reached into his pocket and pulled out something that looked like a small glass orb, big enough to fit in his hand. He squeezed it, and it shattered instantly, a small wave of blue light spreading away from it.

That was the call for help. Now he just had to last until Yvonne showed up. But looking into those violet, empty eyes, doing so sounded like an improbable task.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Get in the car, get in the car, get in the car!”

“But what about the magicians?”

“Fuck the magicians, we are going to die if we don’t get out of here! Now get in the car or I’ll drive away without you!”

Jackie slid into the car’s backseat, making sure that he didn’t accidentally hit Schneep’s head against anything. Chase was in the driver’s seat, looking through the various storage areas, and Jameson was just closing the door to the passenger’s seat.

“I saw a spare key in here, who the fuck keeps a spare key in their car? I guess magicians do! Ah, there it is!” Chase twisted the key and the car started. He wasted no time in applying the gas, skidding away from the side of the road and peeling away. Only then did he allow himself to breathe. “Jesus christ, that was actually somehow worse than last time. How is that possible?”

Jackie looked out the window behind them. “So...we’re really going to just leave those guys.”

Chase, at least, had the decency to feel guilty. He shifted in his seat. “I mean...I guess we could stick around? See if the come out? I mean, we have a car...maybe if Marvin came after us we could get away fast?”

{No,} Jameson said. {Remember what he did to your van? I don’t think it would be too hard to do the same thing here.}

“...I guess,” Chase said. He glanced back at Jackie, and in a moment, they both understood; neither of them were happy about this.

{At least we got Henrik back,} Jameson pointed out.

Jackie nodded. He was still half-holding Schneep, who hadn’t so much as opened his eyes during the whole commotion. “We got to figure out what’s up with this,” he muttered, eyes landing on the web of purple on his forehead.

“Yeah, but I think we need to get somewhere safe first,” Chase said.

“Back to the apartment?” Jackie suggested.

{Why not?} Jameson shrugged. {I certainly can’t think of anyplace better.}

“What if..." Chase swallowed nervously. “What if he comes after you?”

Jameson didn’t say anything for a while, staring out the window. {I don’t think he will.} The words were small, silent even for a thought.

The rest of the drive back was silent, heavy with unvoiced thoughts.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye fanfiction #septic egos #septic egos au #jackieboy man #chase brody #jameson jackson #marvin the magnificent #antisepticeye #dr schneeplestein #brigid writes fanfiction #septics inverted au #invertedau

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cold-neon-ocean · 4 years

Note

Concerning the comics, do you dislike Thanos himself or the Black Order's previous (?) affiliation with him?

A mix of both but primarily the former. Thanos is my least favorite fictional character in existence so I’ll always grind my teeth at The Order’s subservience to him seemingly without much reason in the earlier comics aside from “they’re evil and Thanos is the biggest evil so they worship him!” because to me it’s boring. I don’t like god-mod characters and Thanos is the epitome of that trope. “He’s so powerful that only gets defeated by the heroes because he subconsciously wants to lose as punishment, isn’t he just the most tragic villain ever ;A;” gags

Regarding The Order’s affiliation with him I don’t.. MIND it, in fact I do like it as a set up for their coming together, I just wish it was written where the characters had some more agency and Marvel would actually allow them to move on once he’s gone. Admittedly with the Thanos 2019 comics they did seem to attempt this (despite how many holes it poked in the known canon among other things), and I liked some of the ideas presented, mainly The Order starting out as hired mercenaries with Proxima and Maw, I loved that a lot, and how their loyalty is conditional so long as they are benefiting from the partnership (maybe not as flip-floppy as they were in the comics) and are willing to dip out if they aren’t. THAT I really like even though that was clearly never the case in previous comics lol. The problem is that I- love Proxima SO MUCH, and I hate Thanos SO MUCH so my brain doesn’t want her anywhere near him, especially as some mindless lackey because she deserves better lol. Also my issues could stem from my primary introduction to The Black Order came from the MCU where they are VASTLY different characters than what they are in the comics, and far less developed so I had a lot more room to headcanon and make up my own stuff about them freely before I started looking into them in the comics (which could also explain my mixed feelings about how they’ve been written lately in the comics post-Thanos). I do want to preface that I don’t have a complete knowledge of The Order’s history because I can’t find complete lists of all the comics they’re in. Though from what I can find I’ve read most of their content if I’m not mistaken, but I’m sure there are some more obscure minor appearances that maybe explain some things that haven’t been listed anywhere that I’ve missed.

If I were to throw in my input and talk about MY rendition of The Black Order which is how I choose to write them based on my own personal tastes in my side AU where the Marvel Universe is much less CONVOLUTED(the same AU all my Ronan and Crystal content exists in), I have things set up jumping off the initial ideas of Thanos 2019, where the mercenary group Maw and Proxima were in were initially hired by Thanos, with Cull (I refer to Black Dwarf by his MCU name because I like it better lol) and Corvus being added later. And the affiliation is very conditional from The Order’s perspective. The Order are always watching and judging and gauging whether or not the partnership is worth maintaining, Maw and Proxima especially, and even though I try to write for Thanos as little as possible because I hate touching him and only do what’s absolutely necessary, he can feel the pulls of their defiance at times (with Proxima ESPECIALLY) and has to really think about how he holds onto them, hence the change from hiring adults to kidnapping children who are much easier to condition. Think of them as akin to the hyenas and Scar in The Lion King, loyalty and a willingness to do as they’re told until they stop benefiting from it (though the fear of being hunted down and killed for disloyalty keeps them there as well) and later on realizing, and some having known from the beginning, that they’re meant for more than just being servants and want more for themselves. But that’s in my perfect would.

What I mainly don’t like about how The Order were written under Thanos in the canon is that they’re just lackeys with not much to them, we know nothing about them like when or why they joined (prior to Thanos 2019 ofc but even then we still don’t knew when or how Cull and Corvus came into the picture), just that they did and that’s all that matters. They’re there because they’re evil and that’s about it, they’re blind followers with not a single thought going on in their own heads. That did change over time of course but The Order are STILL functioning under a “what if Thanos comes back” basis, like they’ll have no choice but to go crawling back to him whenever/if he does because that’s just what they do? I knew Marvel would never keep Thanos permanently dead in the comics like they said they would lol I called bullshit on that from day one. When Maw mentioned Thanos’ return in Star #5 I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly fell out of my mouth because I KNEW that was coming (though I do appreciate how Proxima didn’t give a single shit about it lmao). There was also something said preceding the Black Order solo comics in 2019 about how Corvus will still ALWAYS choose Thanos above all else, even his wife and brother, which made ZERO sense??? and also I wasn’t sure why this needed stating when Thanos was canonically dead in the comics following the statement that he’d be perma-dead. It felt like they just weren’t gonna let him grow as there was always that possibility they’d bring Thanos back and send The Order right back to him, undoing all the development they’ve done without him like they’ve done before. I remember when Thanos made Corvus kill himself after he returned and formed a new Black Order and Proxima just... didn’t react to it, though this seemed to be retconned after the universe reset so I’m still confused about that. I also think about how in the Death Sentence novel (and I know this kind of exists in it’s own separate universe but just discussing the overall mentality of writing The Order), again Corvus in particular is written like he needs someone to lead him or he can’t even properly function and he even has a full blown emotional breakdown when he realizes Thanos is back and I just… hate it. Him and Proxima “needing” Thanos to be their god and lead them it’s just stupid and weird and I can’t stand it. I remember Proxima even makes an internal statement about how Corvus falls apart when he doesn’t have someone leading him???

So my main issue in regards to Thanos’ affiliation with The Order as it’s written in the canon is that they’re written as if they can’t do anything without him, ofc this is all before the big universe reset with The Challenger where Thanos is supposedly dead for good but we all know that isn’t true. They were given some agency when they were on their own but with the mention of Thanos in the recent Star comic I have… little hope for them remaining their own thing. They talk about how they don’t want to be servants and how they want to do their own thing then the writers have them fall right back into their old beats of being servants for someone and chasing infinity stones and worrying about what T fucking Hanos will think when he comes back and I just…….. want more for them. I want them to be more fleshed out as characters and have actual ambitions and goals that align with their actions. Because they’re such interesting characters that I genuinely love(well most of them) and have a lot of potential, and I want to see them grow and develop and actually follow through with what they say and not get dragged backwards every time the plot requires them to. I’m still catching up on all my Black Order related comics (there aren’t a lot of complete lists of their appearances out there for me to refer to sadly but I’ve read most of the major ones I believe) but all I really want is for them to finally and actually be able to move on from Thanos. Especially with Corvus because (prior to Star #5 which I’ll expand on in a sec) it makes him look fucking stupid to have him default to “we chase the infinity stones because that’s what we do” after having them talk in previous comics about about how they want to be different and work for themselves, and Black Swan is like “chasing the stones has only ever made us miserable, whymst are we doing this???” and have her bring up valid points about how they don’t need to and Corvus is still just like “nope, nope we gotta.” and doesn’t even explain why. And now apparently that ‘why’ is because they expect Thanos to return? Or at least Maw does? I choose to believe that Corvus wanted the reality stone because it could give them some protection from a possible return of Thanos and allow them to stay together and do as they please like they want. To “forge their own reality” as Corvus said in the Death Sentence novel ironically, that would at the very least be a reason to continue infinity stone hunting that I’d be on board with.

I dunno, lol perhaps my lack of the full scope with missing a few things from sporadic comics and just my own personal views and tastes regarding the characters clash a lot with how the canon wants to portray them and at the end of the day that just is what it is lol. I didn’t intend this to get so long and.. rambly, the subject of Thanos in general gets me on a soap box and I never know how to get off aah. But yeah I hope that made some semblance of sense? The main gist of the story was really that sentence about loving Proxima and hating Thanos so I just naturally want her nowhere near him; and it was actually that affiliation that put me off of The Order for so long before I finally saw the light and realized they’re all vastly more interesting characters than he is LMAO. But I’m gonna stop because this just hit it’s 3rd page in my google docs and I’m starting to get embarrassed wheezes :’D

#Ask Matsu #[ I don't even know what to tag this lmao #I've been refreshing on comics so if I don't have all my facts straight and am just making myself look dumb then whoops i guess lol #i just don't like thanos man..#like at all i hate him so much he embodies the worst of shitty villain writing to me #and it sometimes sadly bleeds into the order who don't deserve it #I guess that may be why I prefer their mcu versions so much more because they're more blank slates i can do as i please with #because the marvel comic universe is so convoluted at this point it's honestly exhausting trying to even think about keeping facts straight #proxissima

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

i hope you've got the time [to keep that air between your lungs] (Trixya) - PinkGrapefruit

[trixya soulmate au]

A/N - this has taken me way too long. thank you to meggie and frey for being the angels they are and getting me through this in one piece - i love them both more than they know. enjoy!

Seeming when I’m older that it’s younger how I feel

Learning that you only get the raw end of the deal

First one to the finish line, but the last one left to know

Second place adorns you no matter where you go

It started on a Monday, except it didn’t - not really.

It started on the day she was born, in a small town in Russia where the rain hadn’t stopped for three days and everyone was a little on edge. It started when the doctor, a sweet old man from St Petersburg, announced loudly, “It’s a girl!” and then, much quieter and with a little sorrow, “and she has a soulmark.” It started when she was five and asked her mama why she had a flower on her arm, and the woman cursed and told her to be quiet, because ‘good girls don’t ask questions.’ When she never heard of the word ‘soulmate’ spoken in the small town she grew up in, not a speck of blood in the snow as the lily rooted its way into the crook of her elbow. When she cried going through test after test to see if they could remove it, uproot it. When a nurse tried to pull the lily out, tried to yank her second heart straight from her arm. It started when they moved to the USA when she was eight, her father explaining in a hushed tone that the small ‘sm’ in her passport wasn’t anything special. And then it changed.

It changed in seventh grade when they did a lesson on soulmarks in biology and the teacher was so proud to show off the daffodil on the back of her neck that Katya almost cried. It changed when she watched Alaska’s black dahlia start to uproot itself from her calf midway through a sophomore baseball practice because she saw an exchange student through the fence - their eyes meeting for a brief second before a petal fell onto the grass next to them. She watched them fall in love, until the flower had long removed itself, leaving a faint outline of the flower that had scarred under her skin. It changed when she learned she was one in a million - an urban myth, a soulmate. Half of a whole, unbreakable.

It changed when she met Trixie.

Well I’ve been out to Austin, back to Boston

Where I’ve been

Following the highways in my hand

It’s a Monday in spring and Katya is 19, but she feels like she’s 30. The cold of Boston has started to dissipate; instead, a warm breeze tickles her ankles through the DIY rips in her jeans. She is that kid, and she is proud of it. Her long sleeves cover the slight protrusion of a soulmate mark, but if you were to look closely enough, you could make out the raised stem of a lily following the river-like path of her veins under the white jersey.

She raises her keep-cup to her lips, lets the bitterness of the coffee overrule the sap that’s filling her mouth more and more often these days, the flower routing deeper into her body with each passing day. She hums to herself as she sketches, letting her ankles catch the sun a little as she sits on her coat on the Charles River Esplanade. Katya is majoring in mechanical engineering at MIT with a minor in women and gender studies - something she finds almost fulfilling when she isn’t frantically sketching out a design that would have been done weeks ago if it wasn’t for the new girl in her team. She’s bright blonde, wears heavy makeup and big, pink dresses to the lab; it’s a different kind of feminine to Katya’s messy hair, messy jeans, messy aura of comfort, and she isn’t necessarily intimidated, but she is stressed. And distracted.

“Who in their right mind wears a dress to the engineering labs?” she’d whined down the phone to Alaska after the girl’s first day. “It didn’t even cover her knees.”

“As if you cared about her safety,” croaked the girl, knowingly. “You’re just a whore who can’t focus.”

“And you’re paying for a linguistics course?” Katya bit back, laughing as she said it.

As she’s lost in her thoughts, a text comes through. She chuckles as she reads it, types out a hasty reply before throwing her possessions into her rucksack. She drains her coffee, ready to return to the flat and see what in the name of hell is going on.

“Your lollipop came round,” yells out Alaska before Katya has even locked the door. The girl shakes off her jacket and stands on the back of her Docs to get them off, shot-putting the cup into the sink from the doorway and letting out a little whoop when it goes in on the first try.

“My lollipop? That’s new,” she responds, launching herself onto the couch with a huff.

“Lollipop, Candy Cane, Sugarplum Fairy? They’re all the same to me.” The girl rubs the scar on the back of her leg subconsciously, checking her watch as she does so. “Shouldn’t Sharon be home by now?” she questions, reading the ache in her leg.

“Said she set off a few minutes ago,” reads Katya from Alaska’s phone - the other girl grabbing it off her when she realises.

She stands up, potters into the kitchen to make a fourth cup of coffee and tries to start a conversation over the whistling of the kettle.

“So Trixie was here?” she yells over the din, answered only by the nodding of the giant space buns sticking up from the back of the couch.

“Uhuh, said something about a double major being shit and meeting somewhere at six-ish.”

“Alaska, you bitch!” she shouts as she checks the time on the oven. It’s five forty-five and she’d promised to meet Trixie at a little cafe twenty minutes away (not that she’d realised, the river seemed to speed up time).

She sprints out the door like she’s on a mission. She sort of is.

When I go back to Wisconsin

And when I come home again

Has anybody out there seen my man?

Trixie never intended to do engineering. She intended to do fashion design and become, well, a fashion designer, but life doesn’t always go the way you plan and, like a cat afraid of water, she’s swimming now.

She switched to MIT in her third year because she was told she could, decided to swap design to design engineering and then mechanical, because two days before school started again, she was told they weren’t running that course - double majoring in biology too, because why the hell not. She thinks like a fashion design student, but works like a physicist - something that’s made her very few friends in the new course, but someone she appears to be especially at odds with is Katya. It’s not a cruel rivalry - nothing about it is malicious or rude, they’re just very different. Katya thinks like an engineer and dresses like an edgy art kid, Trixie - doesn’t.

It’s been three months since she got there and she feels she should probably make peace. It’s definitely her own choice, not the spines that are tearing holes in her clothes as they slowly extrude from her arm. The way they twist in her vein like a bad cannula, bruising, til her arm looks like a galaxy and her freckles are the stars. She’s started bandaging over the worst bits, the spikes getting stuck in her coats, so when she takes them off, they pull and tug. She’s not stupid, she knows what it means. But she doesn’t have to be excited about it.

He parents had always explained soulmates very nicely and concisely, and like they were a choice. Like she didn’t have to have one, like it could go away. They’d said ‘Trixie, darling, that cactus isn’t everything, you are more than it,’ and yet she’s always treated it like it was. Like it ruled her destiny - she believes it does.

They meet on a sunny Monday in April, Boston raining intermittently, but the sun trying its very hardest, like a halogen bulb about to blow. She reckons she has enough time to redress her arm before the other girl arrives, takes a seat in a comfy armchair by the window, ripping off the cover like it isn’t pulling out parts of her heart - tiny needles that were once veins. Maybe it’s because she has her eyes closed in pain that she doesn’t notice Katya. The girl floating in, pausing at the counter to get a refill in her reusable cup and pulling out a metal straw for Trixie as she sits down opposite. She looks in awe at the Gymnocalycium in the crook of her arm. How its tiny spineless flowers sit flush to the skin, while the rest seems like it’s jumping out.

“So,” she says, breaking the silence. “Hi.”

Coming home reminds you that you ain’t got long to go

‘Til you can’t make it to the mailbox, not in all this snow

I hope you’ve got the time to keep that air between your lungs

I hope you’ve got the hand to pull the plug when that day comes

Their tutor calls them into her office on an unusually hot day, both women sweating under their respective overalls and cotton dress. Katya feels the heat like it’s under her skin, splitting muscle from fat with a hot layer of wetness that makes her shiver a little. She’s the sweatiest woman alive, or so she likes to say, but the stuffiness of the basement office isn’t helping the way her skin crawls under the chino cloth. Trixie, despite being significantly less covered, doesn’t seem to be faring any better. The humidity makes her skin flush the colour of cyclamen flowers in the summer.

Katya feels a tug in her arm as she watches the girl listen intently. It’s like the lily has a mind of its own, and she’s not stupid, but she’d like to keep her denial for a little bit longer. It smells like pink gin and tastes like comfort.

“I want a paper on the advancement of bionic prosthetics on my desk in two weeks. It’ll be 20 percent of your final grade,” the teacher drones as if it hasn’t crossed her mind how absurd of a task it is. It probably hasn’t, and it makes Katya’s blood boil in a way that she isn’t so willing to chalk down to heat or some form of ailment that this flower is definitely giving her. Can you boil sap? She vows to google it when she gets home.

They leave in a discontented silence, Trixie thumbing the loose edge of her bandage as they let the slight breeze remove the sheen of moisture covering them. The light hurts their heads a little, but so does the assignment, so they can’t win. Katya texts Alaska a series of angry emojis and the girl replies with a squid.

“Two weeks? Fucking ridiculous,” Trixie mutters under her breath, eyebrows furrowed and teeth gritted slightly as she stomps down the stairs ahead of the other girl.

“I know!”

They sit in a huff on the cool concrete steps of the main block. The height of the building casts a shadow that they bask in as they grumble, each wondering how exactly they got stuck together.

“How do we do this?”

“How much do you like the library?”

Well I’ve been out to Austin, back to Boston

Where I’ve been

Following the highways in my hand

After two days, they have a permanent table in the library. It’s in a private study room off to the side, which the librarian has stuck a reserved sign on. When Katya goes to ask who’s reserved it, the woman just hands her a key and the rest is history. It’s nice though, they can leave their notes there instead of taking them home and forgetting them (after Trixie did that one morning, Katya didn’t speak to her for four hours).

The shorter girl thanks god that her minor finished months ago, is almost grateful that this project means she won’t have to do any more stupid things at the same time. She feels something that could almost be called empathy for Trixie, her biology professor throwing lab work after lab work at the girl, like she’s a women’s softball player and not an overworked college student. Trixie can play softball, that’s just not the point.

She divulges this information when Katya returns with two coffees, a black for herself and a sakura latte for Trixie. She doesn’t point out the irony that the girl is willing to drink the thing that’s killing her, doesn’t think they’re there yet. They discuss the ins and outs of everyone’s favourite lesbian sport and there are points where Katya even laughs.

They are high on life and caffeine when they lean in, slow, tense. The air feels humid and full of pent up stress that drips down the walls like wet paint - smells like despair and tastes like tea leaves. Katya takes two fingers, tucking Trixie’s blonde hair behind her ear before moving them under her chin, pulling it up, so it is angled in a way that leaves her vulnerable. She looks so pretty, eyes closed and lips parted and they almost forget where they are. Then the clock strikes eleven and Trixie’s eyes snap open. She is like a Cinderella when she realises how close their lips are (an inch, maybe less), and she jumps away like she has been burned. Like Katya’s fingers were candles, flaming and hot.

Katya wishes for a second that she had not felt the flower’s roots loosen around her lung, snake their way out of her aorta and her small intestine for a second there. It would make it all easier to accept as Trixie runs out of the room in a state of panic. The dark blonde reaches for the dredges of her coffee, downs what is left as she rubs on the protrusion taking up her forearm. When she coughs, she feels it shift and it hurts. She supposes the pain reminds her she is alive. She wishes it wouldn’t.

When I go back to Wisconsin

And when I come home again

Has anybody out there seen my man?

After a few more days of quiet working, Katya notices something. It’s not a subtle change, comes rather suddenly, but the girl she is working with looks different. Trixie has lost weight, her eyes are hollow and dark as she flicks the pages of research they have been doing for hours. Her hair, that once glistened like it contained the sun, looks limp and flat. There is no sheen, just plain yellow. She has to work up the nerve to ask what has happened as the girl sips her water.

“Are - are you okay?” She hates the way her voice breaks. She hates how Trixie’s voice sounds even more.

“Uhuh, peachy,” comes the other girl sardonically. Her voice is unnaturally hoarse as if she has been screaming for days on end. Katya winces at the sound of it.

“Are you sure? You don’t look well.”

Trixie turns, makes eye contact with her for the first time in days and it’s like Katya was looking through a façade as she sees her skin grey under the warm lights of the study room.

“My body is a temple that has been overtaken with weeds,” she chuckles and the other girl wants to make a joke about poetry slams and spoken word but, ironically, she cannot find the words. She does not know the prayers to make this go away.

They return to the complacent silence they held - it is not comfortable but it does not feel so much like thorns.

When Katya gets home that night, she falls onto the couch, eyeballing Sharon and Alaska cuddling, but more so the Thai food they have spread on the coffee table.

“’Lasky, Shar-Bear,” she starts, earning a cold glare from Sharon and a gesture towards the food. She picks up a random noodle dish and helps herself as she continues. “I think Trixie is the one.”

“Trixie?”

“Lollipop, Candyfloss, Barbie - That one, yes.”

“And she’s the one?” Alaska’s eyes narrow, she might have known this, but the urgency with which the idea is being conveyed now frightens her a little as she melts a little further into Sharon’s side.

“Yes,” replies Katya, mouth full of noodles, “And I don’t know what to do.”

“How much time you got?” enquires Alaska’s partner, muting the television less out of common decency and more pure nosiness. Katya pulls up the sleeve of her sweatshirt, reads the lily like one would read a watch. The marks and clocks are rather similar in their idea, she muses to herself, although only one predicts your death. She doesn’t think any deeper into that.

Sharon mutters something under her breath that sounds like 'Jesus,’ but could have easily been anything else.

“You might want to work fast, Kitty-Cat, that flower isn’t gonna wait much longer.” As Katya looks down, the penultimate petal falls off - she inhales sharply. Sharon definitely mutters 'Jesus’ this time.

Hippodromes and hedons sipping Seagram’s from my mug

Pills at all the parties that we sweep beneath the rug

Figuring that loving’s just the kind of dice you throw

Can a cactus and a lily find a common pot to grow?

It ends on a Monday too.

Trixie keels over after they have handed in their paper, a couple of pages tear-stained and one slightly darkened (although Katya swears she did not spill coffee on it). The blonde falls into Katya’s arms as they walk down the shallow steps outside the main building; it’s almost in slow-motion as the girl has to reach to grab her safely. She retches a couple of times as she lays there, eyes streaming as she holds her stomach like it’s falling apart.

It feels like it is.

Trixie’s always wondered if cacti have spikes on their roots, and, based on this moment and this moment alone, she truly believes that they do.. She feels every organ is being squeezed, the air forced out of her lungs, acid out of her stomach and blood from her heart. Her pulse is simultaneously skyrocketing and bottoming out, and her mouth is filling with the artificially sweet taste of sap. Her mama always told her that she would never have to know what it’s like to never find your soulmate, and the worst part is that she did find hers. All five feet and four inches, with dirty blonde, messy hair; paint splattered rucksack and ripped jeans; loves books but loves maths more, nerd. But she can still feel the roots of her love tearing her up inside as she looks into Katya’s eyes through the sheen of tears.

She cannot hear what is being said through the pounding of her heart and the all-encompassing ripping of her organs. It’s like a violin playing Dvorak’s 'New World,’ but the strings are loose and the bow is torn up and there is no sheet music. It’s an awful cacophony of suffering and hopelessness.

She does not feel when she closes her eyes.

She does feel when everything stops.

Well I’ve been out to Austin, back to Boston

Where I’ve been

Following the highways in my hand

When their lips touch, Katya wants a cosmic supernova. She wants to feel a universe expand and collapse in a second between them, some fiery explosion that tells her this is right. She needs bright lights and flashing words in the sky, 'congratulations dumbass’ spelt out in fireworks. She gets none of that.

Instead, she feels the unmistakable tug of heartstrings as they pick up a song she’d long forgotten, years after dropping violin in sixth grade. She feels her fingers move to the second fret of the A string, vibrato against the low wheezing of Trixie’s breath, the only sign she’s still alive. Her body plays Largo by memory as the lily snakes out of her vena cava. It’s uncomfortable, like pulling out a tooth or popping a dislocated elbow back into place, and as the low G swells in her heart, she feels something push against her sleeve.

She pulls away with a start.

Gently moving Trixie’s head further onto her knees, she rolls up her sweater, hands shaking a little. When it moves past her elbow, a lily falls onto the concrete next to her.

She feels its loss like a dead weight in her arm.

It’s hard to explain how it feels to lose something so dear to you, even if it means you gain something more. The lily that had caused so much grief, so much pain as it rooted its way deep into her being, gone in an instant. An uncomfortable few seconds followed by a lifetime of freedom. She examines the arm with fervour, the flower having left no exit wound, just a perfect scar.

It is then she has the idea to check on Trixie’s.

The girl lets out a heavy breath followed by a hacking cough as Katya twists her forearm. Surely enough, the cactus has left an imprint of buds and needles on the soft skin. It feels a little rough to touch but still has the thrum of a heartbeat under it, rooting it home.

Trixie studies Katya for a little, before moving her head up to meet the girl. She doesn’t taste of sap anymore, she notes, but of strawberries. She decides that it is now her favourite flavour.

When I go back to Wisconsin

And when I come home again

Has anybody out there seen my man?

“So, this is Lollipop,” Alaska teases when Katya brings her girlfriend over for the first time. It’s like an obligatory meet the family dinner, except they’ve already met and they’re ordering Chinese.

When Sharon turns up, she gives Trixie a once over before mouthing something along the lines of 'nice ass’ to Alaska, who rolls her eyes a little before nodding. Ever one for subtleties, Sharon repeats the same sentiment to the girl in question, who blushes the colour of raspberries and mutters a quiet 'thank you.’ The older girl decides she likes her.

“So, Candyfloss, what’s your flower?” questions Alaska once they’re deep on champagne and sweet and sour chicken. Trixie buries her head in Katya’s shoulder for a second, before rolling the sleeves of her dress up to reveal the cactus she’s had painstakingly tattooed over her mark.

“It felt a little more permanent,” she justifies as the other girls goggle, Katya looking smug. “Plus you couldn’t really see it before.”

Her girlfriend takes her hand gently in her own and presses a featherlight kiss to the tattoo.

“I love it, babe,” she whispers and when they kiss, it tastes of strawberry chapstick and she feels the supernova she’s always wanted.

Has anybody out there seen my man?

[alternate ending]

Katya feels Trixie go limp in her arms and wonders if this is where the train stops. If this is where she gets off and never returns to the land of the living, destined only to act as a word of warning to everyone. Romeo and Juliet could never.

She feels the lily tighten its hold on her heart, learnt enough biology during a work placement with pacemakers to envision its roots working their way into her right atrium through the superior vena cava and down into the ventricle. Imagines it as it snakes back up and out the pulmonary artery and round through her lungs. It goes back through the pulmonary vein and into her left atrium and ventricle, before exiting her aorta like some weird bread plait, but less tasty.

As the pressure increases she wishes they’d gone somewhere more comfortable, because the concrete steps digging into her back are almost as bad as the way her kidneys are twisting to accommodate her second heart.

The taste of sap burns the back of her throat, and as she slips under, she swears she feels a whisper of strawberries on her tongue like a promise. A solemn goodbye.

Heaven has more pink than she imagined.

Tags - rpdr fanfiction, trixya, trixie mattel, katya zamolodchikova, shalaska, sharon needles, alaska thunderfuck, angst, fluff?, eventual happy ending, also contains an alternate ending, lesbian au, soulmate au, pinkgrapefruit, concrit welcome

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Seeming when I’m older that it’s younger how I feelLearning that you only get the raw end of the dealFirst one to the finish line, but the last one left to knowSecond place adorns you no matter where you go It started on a Monday, except it didn’t - not really. It started on the day she was born, in a small town in Russia where the rain hadn’t stopped for three days and everyone was a little on edge. It started when the doctor, a sweet old man from St Petersburg, announced loudly, “It’s a girl!” and then, much quieter and with a little sorrow, “and she has a soulmark.” It started when she was five and asked her mama why she had a flower on her arm, and the woman cursed and told her to be quiet, because ‘good girls don’t ask questions.’ When she never heard of the word 'soulmate’ spoken in the small town she grew up in, not a speck of blood in the snow as the lily rooted its way into the crook of her elbow. When she cried going through test after test to see if they could remove it, uproot it. When a nurse tried to pull the lily out, tried to yank her second heart straight from her arm. It started when they moved to the USA when she was eight, her father explaining in a hushed tone that the small ‘sm’ in her passport wasn’t anything special. And then it changed. It changed in seventh grade when they did a lesson on soulmarks in biology and the teacher was so proud to show off the daffodil on the back of her neck that Katya almost cried. It changed when she watched Alaska’s black dahlia start to uproot itself from her calf midway through a sophomore baseball practice because she saw an exchange student through the fence - their eyes meeting for a brief second before a petal fell onto the grass next to them. She watched them fall in love, until the flower had long removed itself, leaving a faint outline of the flower that had scarred under her skin. It changed when she learned she was one in a million - an urban myth, a soulmate. Half of a whole, unbreakable. It changed when she met Trixie. Well I’ve been out to Austin, back to BostonWhere I’ve beenFollowing the highways in my hand It’s a Monday in spring and Katya is 19, but she feels like she’s 30. The cold of Boston has started to dissipate; instead, a warm breeze tickles her ankles through the DIY rips in her jeans. She is that kid, and she is proud of it. Her long sleeves cover the slight protrusion of a soulmate mark, but if you were to look closely enough, you could make out the raised stem of a lily following the river-like path of her veins under the white jersey. She raises her keep-cup to her lips, lets the bitterness of the coffee overrule the sap that’s filling her mouth more and more often these days, the flower routing deeper into her body with each passing day. She hums to herself as she sketches, letting her ankles catch the sun a little as she sits on her coat on the Charles River Esplanade. Katya is majoring in mechanical engineering at MIT with a minor in women and gender studies - something she finds almost fulfilling when she isn’t frantically sketching out a design that would have been done weeks ago if it wasn’t for the new girl in her team. She’s bright blonde, wears heavy makeup and big, pink dresses to the lab; it’s a different kind of feminine to Katya’s messy hair, messy jeans, messy aura of comfort, and she isn’t necessarily intimidated, but she is stressed. And distracted. “Who in their right mind wears a dress to the engineering labs?” she’d whined down the phone to Alaska after the girl’s first day. “It didn’t even cover her knees.” “As if you cared about her safety,” croaked the girl, knowingly. “You’re just a whore who can’t focus.” “And you’re paying for a linguistics course?” Katya bit back, laughing as she said it. As she’s lost in her thoughts, a text comes through. She chuckles as she reads it, types out a hasty reply before throwing her possessions into her rucksack. She drains her coffee, ready to return to the flat and see what in the name of hell is going on. “Your lollipop came round,” yells out Alaska before Katya has even locked the door. The girl shakes off her jacket and stands on the back of her Docs to get them off, shot-putting the cup into the sink from the doorway and letting out a little whoop when it goes in on the first try. “My lollipop? That’s new,” she responds, launching herself onto the couch with a huff. “Lollipop, Candy Cane, Sugarplum Fairy? They’re all the same to me.” The girl rubs the scar on the back of her leg subconsciously, checking her watch as she does so. “Shouldn’t Sharon be home by now?” she questions, reading the ache in her leg. “Said she set off a few minutes ago,” reads Katya from Alaska’s phone - the other girl grabbing it off her when she realises. She stands up, potters into the kitchen to make a fourth cup of coffee and tries to start a conversation over the whistling of the kettle. “So Trixie was here?” she yells over the din, answered only by the nodding of the giant space buns sticking up from the back of the couch. “Uhuh, said something about a double major being shit and meeting somewhere at six-ish.” “Alaska, you bitch!” she shouts as she checks the time on the oven. It’s five forty-five and she’d promised to meet Trixie at a little cafe twenty minutes away (not that she’d realised, the river seemed to speed up time). She sprints out the door like she’s on a mission. She sort of is. When I go back to WisconsinAnd when I come home againHas anybody out there seen my man? Trixie never intended to do engineering. She intended to do fashion design and become, well, a fashion designer, but life doesn’t always go the way you plan and, like a cat afraid of water, she’s swimming now. She switched to MIT in her third year because she was told she could, decided to swap design to design engineering and then mechanical, because two days before school started again, she was told they weren’t running that course - double majoring in biology too, because why the hell not. She thinks like a fashion design student, but works like a physicist - something that’s made her very few friends in the new course, but someone she appears to be especially at odds with is Katya. It’s not a cruel rivalry - nothing about it is malicious or rude, they’re just very different. Katya thinks like an engineer and dresses like an edgy art kid, Trixie - doesn’t. It’s been three months since she got there and she feels she should probably make peace. It’s definitely her own choice, not the spines that are tearing holes in her clothes as they slowly extrude from her arm. The way they twist in her vein like a bad cannula, bruising, til her arm looks like a galaxy and her freckles are the stars. She’s started bandaging over the worst bits, the spikes getting stuck in her coats, so when she takes them off, they pull and tug. She’s not stupid, she knows what it means. But she doesn’t have to be excited about it. He parents had always explained soulmates very nicely and concisely, and like they were a choice. Like she didn’t have to have one, like it could go away. They’d said ‘Trixie, darling, that cactus isn’t everything, you are more than it,’ and yet she’s always treated it like it was. Like it ruled her destiny - she believes it does. They meet on a sunny Monday in April, Boston raining intermittently, but the sun trying its very hardest, like a halogen bulb about to blow. She reckons she has enough time to redress her arm before the other girl arrives, takes a seat in a comfy armchair by the window, ripping off the cover like it isn’t pulling out parts of her heart - tiny needles that were once veins. Maybe it’s because she has her eyes closed in pain that she doesn’t notice Katya. The girl floating in, pausing at the counter to get a refill in her reusable cup and pulling out a metal straw for Trixie as she sits down opposite. She looks in awe at the Gymnocalycium in the crook of her arm. How its tiny spineless flowers sit flush to the skin, while the rest seems like it’s jumping out. “So,” she says, breaking the silence. “Hi.” Coming home reminds you that you ain’t got long to go'Til you can’t make it to the mailbox, not in all this snowI hope you’ve got the time to keep that air between your lungsI hope you’ve got the hand to pull the plug when that day comes Their tutor calls them into her office on an unusually hot day, both women sweating under their respective overalls and cotton dress. Katya feels the heat like it’s under her skin, splitting muscle from fat with a hot layer of wetness that makes her shiver a little. She’s the sweatiest woman alive, or so she likes to say, but the stuffiness of the basement office isn’t helping the way her skin crawls under the chino cloth. Trixie, despite being significantly less covered, doesn’t seem to be faring any better. The humidity makes her skin flush the colour of cyclamen flowers in the summer. Katya feels a tug in her arm as she watches the girl listen intently. It’s like the lily has a mind of its own, and she’s not stupid, but she’d like to keep her denial for a little bit longer. It smells like pink gin and tastes like comfort. “I want a paper on the advancement of bionic prosthetics on my desk in two weeks. It’ll be 20 percent of your final grade,” the teacher drones as if it hasn’t crossed her mind how absurd of a task it is. It probably hasn’t, and it makes Katya’s blood boil in a way that she isn’t so willing to chalk down to heat or some form of ailment that this flower is definitely giving her. Can you boil sap? She vows to google it when she gets home. They leave in a discontented silence, Trixie thumbing the loose edge of her bandage as they let the slight breeze remove the sheen of moisture covering them. The light hurts their heads a little, but so does the assignment, so they can’t win. Katya texts Alaska a series of angry emojis and the girl replies with a squid. “Two weeks? Fucking ridiculous,” Trixie mutters under her breath, eyebrows furrowed and teeth gritted slightly as she stomps down the stairs ahead of the other girl. “I know!” They sit in a huff on the cool concrete steps of the main block. The height of the building casts a shadow that they bask in as they grumble, each wondering how exactly they got stuck together. “How do we do this?” “How much do you like the library?” Well I’ve been out to Austin, back to BostonWhere I’ve beenFollowing the highways in my hand After two days, they have a permanent table in the library. It’s in a private study room off to the side, which the librarian has stuck a reserved sign on. When Katya goes to ask who’s reserved it, the woman just hands her a key and the rest is history. It’s nice though, they can leave their notes there instead of taking them home and forgetting them (after Trixie did that one morning, Katya didn’t speak to her for four hours). The shorter girl thanks god that her minor finished months ago, is almost grateful that this project means she won’t have to do any more stupid things at the same time. She feels something that could almost be called empathy for Trixie, her biology professor throwing lab work after lab work at the girl, like she’s a women’s softball player and not an overworked college student. Trixie can play softball, that’s just not the point. She divulges this information when Katya returns with two coffees, a black for herself and a sakura latte for Trixie. She doesn’t point out the irony that the girl is willing to drink the thing that’s killing her, doesn’t think they’re there yet. They discuss the ins and outs of everyone’s favourite lesbian sport and there are points where Katya even laughs. They are high on life and caffeine when they lean in, slow, tense. The air feels humid and full of pent up stress that drips down the walls like wet paint - smells like despair and tastes like tea leaves. Katya takes two fingers, tucking Trixie’s blonde hair behind her ear before moving them under her chin, pulling it up, so it is angled in a way that leaves her vulnerable. She looks so pretty, eyes closed and lips parted and they almost forget where they are. Then the clock strikes eleven and Trixie’s eyes snap open. She is like a Cinderella when she realises how close their lips are (an inch, maybe less), and she jumps away like she has been burned. Like Katya’s fingers were candles, flaming and hot. Katya wishes for a second that she had not felt the flower’s roots loosen around her lung, snake their way out of her aorta and her small intestine for a second there. It would make it all easier to accept as Trixie runs out of the room in a state of panic. The dark blonde reaches for the dredges of her coffee, downs what is left as she rubs on the protrusion taking up her forearm. When she coughs, she feels it shift and it hurts. She supposes the pain reminds her she is alive. She wishes it wouldn’t. When I go back to WisconsinAnd when I come home againHas anybody out there seen my man? After a few more days of quiet working, Katya notices something. It’s not a subtle change, comes rather suddenly, but the girl she is working with looks different. Trixie has lost weight, her eyes are hollow and dark as she flicks the pages of research they have been doing for hours. Her hair, that once glistened like it contained the sun, looks limp and flat. There is no sheen, just plain yellow. She has to work up the nerve to ask what has happened as the girl sips her water. “Are - are you okay?” She hates the way her voice breaks. She hates how Trixie’s voice sounds even more. “Uhuh, peachy,” comes the other girl sardonically. Her voice is unnaturally hoarse as if she has been screaming for days on end. Katya winces at the sound of it. “Are you sure? You don’t look well.” Trixie turns, makes eye contact with her for the first time in days and it’s like Katya was looking through a façade as she sees her skin grey under the warm lights of the study room. “My body is a temple that has been overtaken with weeds,” she chuckles and the other girl wants to make a joke about poetry slams and spoken word but, ironically, she cannot find the words. She does not know the prayers to make this go away. They return to the complacent silence they held - it is not comfortable but it does not feel so much like thorns. When Katya gets home that night, she falls onto the couch, eyeballing Sharon and Alaska cuddling, but more so the Thai food they have spread on the coffee table. “’Lasky, Shar-Bear,” she starts, earning a cold glare from Sharon and a gesture towards the food. She picks up a random noodle dish and helps herself as she continues. “I think Trixie is the one.” “Trixie?” “Lollipop, Candyfloss, Barbie - That one, yes.” “And she’s the one?” Alaska’s eyes narrow, she might have known this, but the urgency with which the idea is being conveyed now frightens her a little as she melts a little further into Sharon’s side. “Yes,” replies Katya, mouth full of noodles, “And I don’t know what to do.” “How much time you got?” enquires Alaska’s partner, muting the television less out of common decency and more pure nosiness. Katya pulls up the sleeve of her sweatshirt, reads the lily like one would read a watch. The marks and clocks are rather similar in their idea, she muses to herself, although only one predicts your death. She doesn’t think any deeper into that. Sharon mutters something under her breath that sounds like 'Jesus,’ but could have easily been anything else. “You might want to work fast, Kitty-Cat, that flower isn’t gonna wait much longer.” As Katya looks down, the penultimate petal falls off - she inhales sharply. Sharon definitely mutters 'Jesus’ this time. Hippodromes and hedons sipping Seagram’s from my mugPills at all the parties that we sweep beneath the rugFiguring that loving’s just the kind of dice you throwCan a cactus and a lily find a common pot to grow? It ends on a Monday too. Trixie keels over after they have handed in their paper, a couple of pages tear-stained and one slightly darkened (although Katya swears she did not spill coffee on it). The blonde falls into Katya’s arms as they walk down the shallow steps outside the main building; it’s almost in slow-motion as the girl has to reach to grab her safely. She retches a couple of times as she lays there, eyes streaming as she holds her stomach like it’s falling apart. It feels like it is. Trixie’s always wondered if cacti have spikes on their roots, and, based on this moment and this moment alone, she truly believes that they do.. She feels every organ is being squeezed, the air forced out of her lungs, acid out of her stomach and blood from her heart. Her pulse is simultaneously skyrocketing and bottoming out, and her mouth is filling with the artificially sweet taste of sap. Her mama always told her that she would never have to know what it’s like to never find your soulmate, and the worst part is that she did find hers. All five feet and four inches, with dirty blonde, messy hair; paint splattered rucksack and ripped jeans; loves books but loves maths more, nerd. But she can still feel the roots of her love tearing her up inside as she looks into Katya’s eyes through the sheen of tears. She cannot hear what is being said through the pounding of her heart and the all-encompassing ripping of her organs. It’s like a violin playing Dvorak’s 'New World,’ but the strings are loose and the bow is torn up and there is no sheet music. It’s an awful cacophony of suffering and hopelessness. She does not feel when she closes her eyes. She does feel when everything stops. Well I’ve been out to Austin, back to BostonWhere I’ve beenFollowing the highways in my hand When their lips touch, Katya wants a cosmic supernova. She wants to feel a universe expand and collapse in a second between them, some fiery explosion that tells her this is right. She needs bright lights and flashing words in the sky, 'congratulations dumbass’ spelt out in fireworks. She gets none of that. Instead, she feels the unmistakable tug of heartstrings as they pick up a song she’d long forgotten, years after dropping violin in sixth grade. She feels her fingers move to the second fret of the A string, vibrato against the low wheezing of Trixie’s breath, the only sign she’s still alive. Her body plays Largo by memory as the lily snakes out of her vena cava. It’s uncomfortable, like pulling out a tooth or popping a dislocated elbow back into place, and as the low G swells in her heart, she feels something push against her sleeve. She pulls away with a start. Gently moving Trixie’s head further onto her knees, she rolls up her sweater, hands shaking a little. When it moves past her elbow, a lily falls onto the concrete next to her. She feels its loss like a dead weight in her arm. It’s hard to explain how it feels to lose something so dear to you, even if it means you gain something more. The lily that had caused so much grief, so much pain as it rooted its way deep into her being, gone in an instant. An uncomfortable few seconds followed by a lifetime of freedom. She examines the arm with fervour, the flower having left no exit wound, just a perfect scar. It is then she has the idea to check on Trixie’s. The girl lets out a heavy breath followed by a hacking cough as Katya twists her forearm. Surely enough, the cactus has left an imprint of buds and needles on the soft skin. It feels a little rough to touch but still has the thrum of a heartbeat under it, rooting it home. Trixie studies Katya for a little, before moving her head up to meet the girl. She doesn’t taste of sap anymore, she notes, but of strawberries. She decides that it is now her favourite flavour. When I go back to WisconsinAnd when I come home againHas anybody out there seen my man? “So, this is Lollipop,” Alaska teases when Katya brings her girlfriend over for the first time. It’s like an obligatory meet the family dinner, except they’ve already met and they’re ordering Chinese. When Sharon turns up, she gives Trixie a once over before mouthing something along the lines of 'nice ass’ to Alaska, who rolls her eyes a little before nodding. Ever one for subtleties, Sharon repeats the same sentiment to the girl in question, who blushes the colour of raspberries and mutters a quiet 'thank you.’ The older girl decides she likes her. “So, Candyfloss, what’s your flower?” questions Alaska once they’re deep on champagne and sweet and sour chicken. Trixie buries her head in Katya’s shoulder for a second, before rolling the sleeves of her dress up to reveal the cactus she’s had painstakingly tattooed over her mark. “It felt a little more permanent,” she justifies as the other girls goggle, Katya looking smug. “Plus you couldn’t really see it before.” Her girlfriend takes her hand gently in her own and presses a featherlight kiss to the tattoo. “I love it, babe,” she whispers and when they kiss, it tastes of strawberry chapstick and she feels the supernova she’s always wanted. Has anybody out there seen my man? [alternate ending] Katya feels Trixie go limp in her arms and wonders if this is where the train stops. If this is where she gets off and never returns to the land of the living, destined only to act as a word of warning to everyone. Romeo and Juliet could never. She feels the lily tighten its hold on her heart, learnt enough biology during a work placement with pacemakers to envision its roots working their way into her right atrium through the superior vena cava and down into the ventricle. Imagines it as it snakes back up and out the pulmonary artery and round through her lungs. It goes back through the pulmonary vein and into her left atrium and ventricle, before exiting her aorta like some weird bread plait, but less tasty. As the pressure increases she wishes they’d gone somewhere more comfortable, because the concrete steps digging into her back are almost as bad as the way her kidneys are twisting to accommodate her second heart. The taste of sap burns the back of her throat, and as she slips under, she swears she feels a whisper of strawberries on her tongue like a promise. A solemn goodbye. * Heaven has more pink than she imagined.

#rpdr fanfiction #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #shalaska #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #angst #fluff #eventual happy ending #lesbian au #soulmate au #pinkgrapefruit #concrit welcome #submission

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