#i love how i bought a drawing tablet yet i always end up going back to making art on my ds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

this-is-spn20 · 3 years

Text

FLUFF ALPHABET! Sam Winchester!

A/N: Here’s Sammy boy! My small adorable baby! Let me know what you guys think about this!

-Marissa

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

A ctivities- What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Sam is a pretty laid-back man. When he sees a chance at relaxing with you, he snatches as quickly as possible. Whether it’s just walking or driving around towns, going to the local library (cause God knows the only book they have at the bunker are the Wizard of Oz books, and the men of letters’ books.), to looking up fun recipes to try with you. The man will always keep you occupied!

B eauty- What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Sam likes that despite you being very soft-spoken, you’re nowhere near dumb. You’re also very confident. Of course, you’ll still ask Sam what he thinks if you piece together a somewhat bold outfit. But you might as well call him Bruno Mars cause- well you know.

I feel like if you are an artist of some sort, he might decide to pick up your art of choice as a hobby for when he has no research or hunts. Maybe if you draw, he’ll buy both of you sketchbooks and pencils. Or if you use a tablet he might buy you a better one. He’ll try doing simple drawings to start off with a tree or two. An eye here and there. He struggling and he’s probably gonna get a bit upset with himself if his skills don’t pick up like yours. But he’s trying really hard! If you like making music, he might ask you to play guitar. He might even ask you to teach him how to sing! But be patient, he can barely carry a tune but he’s so happy to learn! Might take him almost a year to get the hang of it, but once he does, he is an absolute Beast with some strings!

C omfort- How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Sam has anxiety himself so he knows the signs when one is coming on. He’s been around stressful things/people/events all his life. His father was abusive throughout his and Dean’s childhood. When he ran away to go to college, he had to learn to interact with new environments and people. In conclusion, the man KNOWS what anxiety is. And how to handle it. He’ll have you sit down and close your eyes. He won’t touch you just in case it makes you more nervous. He’ll breathe slowly with you, serving as a guide to get your bearings. Once you’ve slowed your breathing he knows you can’t hold anything so he gets you a glass of water with a straw and holds the glass for you. He knows you probably won’t want to eat anything so he just picks you up when you say he can, and brings you to bed, and reads you to sleep while holding you close.

D reams- How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Sam knows for sure he wants to marry you. He also wants kids with you but the risk of being raised in the life he kept him up at night. Now don’t get him wrong, he knows that whatever happens, family will take care of it. They always do. But he’s not sure if that’s a risk worth taking. He just wants to have the apple pie life. He’d kill every monster with his bare hands just to have that with you.

E qual- Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Sam is quite dominant in the relationship. He always takes care of everything for you. He doesn't buy into the stereotype that women should be doing everything for their partners. He tries to help you out with everything and he doesn't take no for an answer. You've known for a while that Sam's love language is Acts of Service. All he's done all his life is help people, so it just seeps into the relationship. Sure he believes that a relationship should be a healthy balance of 50\50, but at the same time, he can't help take over and take care of you. This man is just precious.

F ight- Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Depending on what the fight was about Sam would be pretty open to forgiving you pretty quickly. However sweet Sam can be, if he believes that he has even a pinky toe to stand on in the fight, he’ll stick to it. It’s only when the shouting has gotten too much for you that you walk away that he may see where you’re coming from. Give him a or two. That way you both had time to cool down. You’ll spend the rest of the day talking it through, seeing each other’s perspectives. Even if you guys can’t agree with each other, you’ll know how to better handle the situation next time.

G ratitude- How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Even though he mostly does mundane things for you, you try to help out as much as he’ll let you. For example, if you noticed that he has a lot of research to do, while he’s sleeping or is on a supply run, you’ll continue his research so that he’ll have more time to relax and let loose a bit more. You think he doesn’t notice but he does, and he appreciates it. It makes him feel like he hasn’t been ‘slacking off’, or that he hasn’t wasted too much time doing other things. Sometimes you’ll even finish the research and he’ll have nothing much to do for a while. Except relaxing with you of course!

H onesty- Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Sam doesn’t have to hide much from you. You’re a damn good hunter. He would even go as far as to say you were better than him and Dean. He knows damn well you can take care of yourself and that you don’t like being babied often. He knows your secrets as well as you know his. It takes a big weight off his shoulders, knowing he doesn’t have to hide who he is with you.

I nspiration- Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You were always an adventurous and carefree person. You always had a hard time balancing fun and work. Sometimes it got you into trouble. Sam noticed this when you two first met and as your relationship got more serious and tried to help you with the balence. By all means you aren’t magically better, but you’re learning. Sam on the other hand, had the same issue. The work and fun balance is a tricky one to master. You help Sam have more fun, like you he’s getting better at having more fun. But again it’s not going to happen overnight. Oh and you eat a salad of two once a month now!

J ealousy- Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

On the rare occasion the Sam gets extremely jealous, it's usually when someone tries to touch. Regardless of whether you let it happen (for fun) or not, he can’t help himself. He wants you all to himself. No Sharing!!

K iss- Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Sam is a very good kisser. He always kisses you like he hasn’t seen you in years. Most of the time his kisses are very rough but intimate. The first kiss was after four dates. Yes that’s a long time but you wanted to make sure you did this right with Sam. Plus he reassured you that he’d wait as long as you wanted to. You were sitting next to Sam in the Library doing some light research since most of it had gotten done earlier that week. The tension had been building up all week, you were finally ready to kiss Sam. Despite this not being your first kiss, you hadn’t kissed many people so understandably, you were nervous. You reached your arm over his and gently closed his laptop and angled your body toward his. You leaned over to him slowly, creeping your hand to his shoulder and finally your lips connected. Sam’s hand softly grabbed your hand on his shoulder and you both stayed like that until you both needed air. That was one of, if not, the most intimate moment you’ve had with Sam so far.

L ove Confession- How would they confess to their s/o?

Sam would be a bundle of nerves when he tries to confess. He’s tried to do it at least three times but each time he either got too nervous or something would interrupt him. Eventually settled for being simple, yet intimate. He had invited you to come to the library with him to sit and read for a while. It was about an hour and a half of you both being immersed in your own books that he told you he was going to the coffee shop in the bookstore to get a coffee. He got you your favorite drink. He had the barista give him a sharpie before they made your drink, then he wrote his message to you and bought you the drink when the order was done. You could see Sam was shaking and fidgeting but you couldn’t tell why.You figured you’d let him tell you when he’s ready. If only you know. You were only a few sips into your drink when you noticed some writing on the cup. Curious, you read the message which read;

(Y/n), I have loved you from the best of times to the worst. Would you do the honor of going on a date with me?

-Sam

You sat up, a bit stunned. You looked at Sam to see him smiling shyly at you. You couldn’t do much but giggle and nod at the giant softie.

M arriage- Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Marriage is something Sam and you have talked a lot about it. You two know you definitely want to get married but the question was when. You want to do it sooner rather than later. While Sam agrees, he also feels like that it should be a sign of both of you leaving life for good. Sam is a very nostalgic person, which means he’ll most likely recreate him asking you out and your first date. At the end of the night he’d get down on one knee and before he gets to say one word you burst into tears. When he finishes his speech, you of course say yes and the night continues...elsewhere.

N icknames- What do they call their s/o?

Sugar is used more often than not. Baby and babygirl are pretty prevalent. Honey Bunch is used less but when he does call you that usually puppy dog eyes are shortly behind.

O n Cloud Nine- What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

When Sam is in love it’s less obvious to everyone, but if they know Sam, they’ll notice the little things. Things like Sam now has permanent smile lines and his shoulders don’t hold so much tension anymore. If you didn’t come on a hunt with him and Dean he always has Dean stop off to get a bouquet of flowers. Of course he gets shit from Dean but he still does it everytime cause he is a good big brother.

P DA- Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

While Sam will let anyone know that you’re together (if need be), he’s pretty subtle about it. There is the subtle hand on your thigh or around your waist. Maybe a little quick forehead kiss but other than that unless they knew you, someone wouldn’t be able to guess you two are together.

Q uirk- Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Sam has this really deep, rich, raspy type of voice. That makes him the BEST narrator ever! He often reads you to sleep when you two spend a lazy night in or if you have a nightmare. He’s there with a book you’ve been reading and he reads you a chapter or two before you’re out like a light.

R omance- How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Sam is the KING of romance. When he plans something for you, he goes all out! When it comes to making you happy, he’ll do whatever it takes. There are almost no limits to his love. He lives by the term “Happy Wife, Happy Life.”. Sam is pretty nostalgic so he’ll be cliche, but he’ll be creative and add his own twist to it! So you could say he’s pretty creative.

S upport- Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Sam loves learning about your goals and helping you achieve them. If you have 5 different goals, he's all there for you, helping you learn ways to achieve them quicker. If you want to. If you feel like those goals are impossible to reach, he’s there to help you see nothing’s impossible.

T hrill- Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

While Sam likes to have a solid routine, he tries to keep things *spicy* when it comes to your relationship. Whether it's something mundane or outrageous, you and Sam try your best to keep things fun for the both of you.

U nderstanding- How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

You and Sam know each other so well it's gotten to the point where if you or him need something, you know what’s needed and how much before the other even opened their mouth. When this happens, Dean just kinda stares at the both of you with a “what the actual fuck?’ look.

Sam: *sees you walking into the kitchen* Hey babe we-

Y/N: We need to get some milk today. You wanna leave at 11?

Sam: *goes back to drinking his coffee* Yep.

Dean: *freaking the fuck out*

V alue- How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Sam knew from the first date that his life would be in your hands. He trusts you with everything he has. What’s your relationship worth to him? More than any diamonds, jewels, or power. Nothing can ever be worth more than you.

W ild Card- A random Fluff Headcanon.

Sam took you to an event at a bar one night for a date. The theme that night was ‘50’s and 60’s dance night!’ He bought you a dress that would be worn in that era and he wore his brand new tux he bought, just for tonight. Just for you. Your feet were screaming in your heels but you and Sam were having too much fun to leave the dance floor. When you guys got home that night Sam gave you the BEST foot rub ever.

X OXO- Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

In private, Sam will smother you with kisses and cuddles. The man can almost never let you go. The poor touch starved baby.

Y earning- How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Sam likes to log in to your Spotify, he knows most likely wherever you are, you’re listening to your music. He likes to listen to your playlists with you. It makes him feel closer to you.

(He’ll never admit it but you have better taste in music than him.)

Z eal- Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

It’ll be a close call but if he had to choose to save Dean or you, he’d choose you. It’d break him for a while, but he knows his brother wants him to have the apple pie life with you. And in the end, he’d always do it. No matter how hard it’d be for him and you every time, he wouldn’t change a thing.

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

A/N: Thank you guys for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Requests are always open!

Spread Love!

-Marissa

#Sam Winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #dean winchester #supernatural imagines #supernatural

115 notes · View notes

whimsicallyreading · 3 years

Text

Eight Second Ride

Part Three-

(Part Two)

“So you are telling me-“ Aedion scowls from the other side of her bed, “you ditched me for a sweaty bull rider and didn’t even last an hour into the date?”

Aelin shoves a spoonful of cookies and cream ice cream into her mouth and sniffles. “That’s all you got from my story?”

He slings an arm over Aelin’s shoulders and she lays her head on his chest gratefully. She’d caught an Uber back to her apartment where Aedion was already camped out waiting for her.

One look at her mascara smeared face, and he’d made a pillow fort on her bed. Complete with ice cream and “Little Women” playing on his phone.

“No, I got the whole chauvinistic asshole, bit.” Aedion stabs his spoon into the container and breaks up a particularly large piece of Oreo. “I just decided to focus on the part that doesn’t make me want to leave you hear and go and kill him right now.”

“I thought cowboys were supposed to be classy.” Aelin watched Jo play with her sisters in their attic on Aedion’s tiny screen. “Take city girls into the country to ride a horse and show them a bigger purpose in life, kind of shit.”

“Hallmark is such a liar.” Aedion huffs and squeezes her shoulder a little tighter. “I’m sorry, Lin. I know going out tonight was a big step for you. It’s a shame he acted the way he did.”

It was rare Aelin acted on a whim these days. Not like she used to do when she was in high school. She felt a pull to go with Rowan, but her gut had led her into a situation that could have gone south very quickly.

It’s a hard thing when you can’t trust yourself.

“No. I shouldn’t have gone. Especially not alone.” Aelin’s feels her thoughts drifting. Creeping towards that iron box of memories she keeps locked tight. “It’s my mistake.”

“No.”

The fervor in Aedion’s voice draws her attention up to his face, and Aelin is jarred by the intensity of his expression. “Aedion-“

“It’s not your fault.” His voice is gravely, and his blue eyes flicker like the heart of a flame. “I don’t give a shit what that bastard thought you accepting his invitation meant. You don’t owe him sex because he buys you a drink.”

“Aedion-“ Aelin tries to interrupt again. A new wave of tears burns her eyes, but Aedion is on a roll and he isn’t going to quite down until he gets out what’s on his mind.

“You don’t deserve to be treated like an object that can be bought.” Aelin can’t look him in the eyes any longer, but a calloused hand guides her face to the crook of his neck.

“His friends are shitty. He should have made them shut up. Ogling you, and making you feel unsafe and uncomfortable aren’t funny jokes.” Aedion goes on as Aelin sniffles into his shirt.

“You deserve respect. It doesn’t matter what you are wearing, what he buys you, or what his expectations are. His behavior isn’t your fault.” Aedion whispers against the top of her head.

Aelin wraps the arm that isn’t squished under her, around his waist. “I love you, Brother Wolf.”

“I love you too, Fireheart.” Aedion kisses her forehead and tugs her closer, the old terms of endearment are exchanged between them with ease.

“I know you are still dealing with everything that happened a couple years ago. I’m happy to remind you how worth it you are whenever you need.”

Aedion was an island of safety in the turbulent ocean of her life. Even when Aelin was small, she’d often go to him before her own parents with her problems. He was steady, and calm. The exact opposite of her own personality.

After the incident, he hadn’t rested until she was safely at his side again. Aedion stood by her faithfully as she picked up the broken pieces of her life and held her hand as she tried to make something new from them.

“How come you already had this movie downloaded onto your phone?” Aelin teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Did you suddenly develop a sense of taste?”

Aedion purses his lips. “Lysandra said this movie is, and I quote, the most accurate depiction of the female experience.” He shakes his head. “I’ve tried to watch it three times, and I still can’t figure out what it’s even about.”

“You are a simple minded creature, cousin.” Aelin grabs her spoon and scoops a melty bite of ice cream into her mouth. “Thank you for coming over.”

“Anytime, Lin.” He leans his cheek on her head as the scene on his phone shifts from the cooler grey tones of the present, back to the warm colors that represented better days. “Anytime.”

~~~

The day started off better than she expected.

Aedion was gone when she woke up- he had to rise at an ungodly hour to make it to the fire station on time.

Yet, he set her alarm clock for her so Aelin woke up in time to get ready for work. He’d also set a glass of water and an Advil tablet on her bedside table to curb the headache she was sure to have from crying.

Aelin made it out the door with enough time to stop and get coffee on the way. She even splurged and got a chocolate hazelnut Frappuccino with enough sugar to smooth her wounded feelings.

It was going so well, Aelin should have known it was the universe winding up to screw her.

It was only a couple hours before she closed shop when Lorcan Salvaterre stepped through her front door.

“Holy shit, it’s you.” Were the first words from his mouth. His dark eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Rowan is going to flip when I tell him I actually found you.”

“What are you doing here?” Aelin’s slammed a stack of books on the counter.

Lorcan looked pensive. “Rowan said you mentioned owning a book store-“ he drags a hand through his dark hair. “I felt like I ruined his chance with you, so I thought I maybe if I apologized-“

“Let me stop you there,” Aelin didn’t bother looking at him as she labeled books and organized them into stacks. “You didn’t ruin anything, you didn’t help, but he screwed up all by himself.”’

“He realizes that,” Lorcan quickly defends, his voice gruff with irritation. “If I can give him your number I’m sure he will grovel for himself.”

Aelin rolls her eyes and slides another stack to the end of the counter. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?” She can tell he’s losing his patience with her. Lorcan’s remorse only went so far, apparently.

Aedion’s words from earlier rang in her ears as she repeated them back to the man. “He was overbearing the entire time. Had double standard opinions about my life, and disrespected my boundaries.”

Aelin watched as Lorcan shifted on his feet, itching to say something but obviously refraining. Measuring his words carefully he looked her dead in the eye. “Look. He was just trying to impress you. Rowan doesn’t go out often. Don’t you think you are blowing this a little out of proportion?”

Red. Aelin saw red. Tasted it. Like iron in her mouth. Or maybe that was just the blood from biting her tongue so hard. “I’m working right now. You don’t strike me as extremely literate, but I have to ask for you to either buy something or leave.”

Lorcan glowered at her. “Fine.” He turns to walk out, but Aelin hears him call her a bitch under his breath.

Just then, Elide walks inside the shop doors. A backpack slung over her shoulder, finished with her classes at Rifthold U and prepared to work the evening shift with her.

Aelin is relieved for the interruption and about to take full advantage of it, when the small, brown-haired girl catches sight of Lorcan and beams like a rutting lighthouse.

“Lorcan! I didn’t know you were coming into my work, what a surprise.”

Elide. One of her best friends, runs up to the six-two tower of misogynistic cow boys and flings her arms around him. Hugs him.

Ellie she recalls the name being thrown out last night. She hadn’t put two and two together. Ellie was a common name. Of all the people in this city it had to be Elide, Aelin mentally bemoans.

She wonders if Elide knew how her cowboy behaved when she wasn’t around.

It doesn’t matter. Lorcan is all too aware of Aelin’s eyes boring into his skin, and knows he needs to make a quick get away.

“Ellie,” Lorcan pulls away from her. “I just had to see this book shop you are always talking about.”

He kisses her head, and looks at her with feigned remorsefulness. “I must have gotten your shifts mixed up in my head, though. I’m afraid I have to go. We booked a training time for six and I need to brush down Nettie before we start.”

“Oh,” Elide says, a look of genuine disappointment on her face. “That’s fine. Are we still on for a movie tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. He pecks her one more time on the lips and tips his chin towards Aelin. Anger still bubbling in his eyes. “Good day, ma’am.”

Aelin releases a breath when the doors close behind him.

“I’m so sad I missed him.” Elide frowns, tossing her back pack behind the counter. “At least you got to meet him. What did you think? He’s absolutely dreamy, right?”

Aelin chokes back a gag. “Yeah. He was really charming.”

“And get this,” Elide smiles. “He’s a cowboy. Like an actual, real life cowboy. He rides pulls and does team roping. It’s sexy.”

Aelin can’t hide the grimace this time. “You are like my baby sister. I never want to hear the words sexy from your mouth again.”

At least, never in the context of Lorcan. They’d had plenty of boy talk before.

“He even carries a rope.” Elide wags an eyebrow. “Better to tie me up when we-“

Aelin holds a book over her face. “I’m not listening to this! I will file a report with HR.”

Elide laughs. “You are the boss, Lin. You know we don’t have an HR.”

“I need to get one now,” Aelin grumbles. “I don’t need an image of yours and Lorcan’s naked asses in my head.”

She wanted Lorcan out of her head entirely. Along with Rowan and the rest of their cadre.

“Fine,” Elide sighs wistfully. “One day you will be in love and I won’t hold it against you when you want to talk about whatever babe you wind up with.”

Her eyes get a mischievous glint. “Actually- Lorcan has some really cute friends. I could set you up with?”

Aelin’s brain banks. “No. No thank you. I like being alone. I’m more than enough company for myself.”

“Come on, a double date would be fun!” Elide whines and tugs on her arm. “You never go out any more. We could have a great night out.”

An image of the twins cutting lines on the bar flash across her mind and make her shudder.

“I said no, Elide.” Aelin says a bit more harshly then she intends, but Elide gets the point and backs off.

“Sorry. I won’t mention it again.” Instead of anger she looks at Aelin worriedly.

She kind of hates that more.

“Thanks.” She shakes her head and tries to clear the residual stress from her head. “I have to set up a new shelf display. Want to help?”

Elide lights back up at the prospect. She loved designing and organizing. They have a great time setting displays up together and Aelin knew it would take her mind away from the tension she’d created.

She just really hoped that Elide dating Lorcan wouldn’t drag any drama into her own life. Aelin didn’t care what half asses excuses Lorcan made, she wasn’t interested in seeing Rowan again.

Hello! I’m so glad I got this posted today. 😂 I’m hoping to get the next chapter of DRNS out tomorrow. After that, my birthday is next Tuesday and I reaaallly want to do a mass update of all my fics then as a hooray to 21. (Yes. That is what I’m doing for my 21st 🤣) Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List- (Let me know if you would like to be removed or added!)

@charincharge

@westofmoon

@jorjy-jo

@classyclodranchparty

@morganofthewildfire

@ashleymariegriffin

@wordsxstars

@sjmships

@rolltide7

@surielandiareendgame

@jlinez

@rowaelinismyotp

103 notes · View notes

issabangtanfic · 3 years

Text

[Jungkook] The Windmill House (Chapter 11)

Synopsis: When your stereotypical Christian Grey meets his not so stereotypical Anna

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

A/N: Feel free to submit a cover! Tell me what you think in my inbox! Enjoy!

It's been years since I’ve been left with that much energy after a day at work. I have minimal oiliness on my face by the time I check my mirror in my car. I actually feel like I could run a mental marathon, which is good considering my next stop. Tonight, I’m seeing the flirtatious Mr.Jeon so he can finally give me the brief for the windmill house. I have to admit, I’ve kind of been looking forward to it, not only because the house is amazing, but also because I find some fun in declining his straightforward yet quite funny advances. I drive my Mini out of London, to the secluded green space where Mr.Jeon’s house is. I stifle a smile walking up the crackled stairs. I almost fell on it the first time I came here. I remember almost losing my shit when he caught me. I don’t think I’d be that phased if it were to happen today. I’ve had him way closer to me since then, and that has been something too.

I park my car at the end of the dirt road at the bottom of the hill, and hike up the stairs that lead to the house. When I get there, I notice a black wooden door with mouldings has been installed. It's better than the sad plank that was there before, and it actually kind of fits the architecture. I knock on the door, and a few moments later, Mr Jeon opens it.

“Miss Fair.” He greets, smiling at me, all grey suit and white shirt, his tie gone, three of his buttons undone. I stop my eyes from moving further down, not wanting to check him out too obviously.

“Good Evening, Mr.Jeon.” I murmur, returning the smile. He always looks so yummy.

“Good evening.” He replies, stepping aside to let me in. “Please, come in.”

Step into the house, the floorboards creaking under my heels as I make my way in, and he closes the door behind me.

“How was your day?” He asks as I walk into the living room, myeyes immediately going to the immense, 3 to 4 meter high bookshelf I saw last time. The house is as pretty as I remember it.

“Busy.” I reply evasively, my eyes wandering up to the ceiling, and the dome where the roof opens up onto the sky.

“Have you eaten yet?” He asks, pulling my attention back to him. I turn to him, and he's leaning against the kitchen counter, hands shoved in his pockets. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Are you going to try and turn this into a date?” I ask warily. Of course he's trying to make this a dinner date. He chuckles ,taking a few steps towards me.

“I’m worried about your blood sugar.” He counters, and I roll my eyes to the heavens. My blood pressure is what is really worrying.

“I am fine, thank you.” I decline politely. This is a business meeting, Maya. I turn back around, venturing further in the living space. The couches are still covered by white sheets, except for one old brown leather armchair that I will one hundred percent stay in the house.

“Where should we start?” He prompts as I set my bag down onto the pretty arm chair.

“We can go from room to room and you tell me whatever you want to be done." I explain, sliding my coat off of my shoulders. I set it down on the back rest of the chair and start gathering my equipment. "I can also give you my ideas. I’ll snap a few pictures so I can remember how everything looks.” I say, pulling my tablet, camera and notepad out of my bag.

“Then, I’ll draw sketches and I’ll come back to you for your approval.” I conclude.

“Okay.”

“I'll also need the blueprints of the house.” I add before I forget.

“I’ll send them to you.”

“Okay.” I turn around , glancing at the stairs that lead up to the star-azing platform..

“I really want to start up there.” I informed him. I have been thinking about this part of the house ever sincethe first time I came here. The sun has set, and I'm not sure what I'll be able to see but I'm curious.

“Sure.” He concedes, walking me up to the stairs. He lets me go first while he stays down under the staircase to turn the crank that lifts the blinds from the roof.

On the platform there is what I'm guessing is a telescope covered by a white sheet pointed at the ceiling.

After he gets to work the panels slowly go up, unveiling a dark sky with a few sparkles, and an almost full moon clearly visible.

“Oh, wow.” I whisper. This isn't the starriest sky I've seen in my life, but it's pretty bright for something just 45 minutes away from London. I guess the light pollution doesn't hit as much here.

A few seconds later, Mr.Jeon climbs the stairs and comes up behind me. This space has so much potential. It's so unique, I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before.

“So your grandfather designed this?” I ask him, unable to detach my eyes from the spectacle in front of me.

“Yes. I’d like to keep it like this of course, but I want this space to have seats.” He explains, pulling my attention back to the platform I'm standing on. The stairs and floor are metal, which gives it a very industrial feel, but doesn't match the warmth we're trying to give the house. Imagine laying on a comfy fatboy and just staring up at the sky for hours.

“Like a star-gazing station?” I ask him.

“Exactly.” He concurs. “I think it’d be nice if you were able to lay down too.”

“I agree.” I nod.

"I think," Mr.Jeon trails off, stepping in front of me and reading the calendar stuck on the wall right next to the covered telescope. "Venus should be visible tonight." He says as he checks the time on his watch. Venus?

"Really?" My eyes widen in excitement as he uncovers the telescope. It's dark green and kind of rusty, defenitely an old piece of equipement. I bet this belonged to his gandfather. It's not dusty though, meaning he probably uses it frequently.

"I mean it is visible during the day too, it's one of the brightest objects in the sky." He explains, unscewing the lense cover and the eye piece. Oh, I'm about to see a planet for the first time! I'm still surprised a man like him has this kind of interest. It's really not common.

"But it might be too low now." He muses, and I watch as he twists and turns the telescope that is almost his height, following an integrated compass with coordnates. He looks into the telescope in silence, and I'm fascinated by how easy he makes it look. This businessman has hobbies that don't consist in golf.

"There she is." He says once he's found his target, and steps back from the telescope. "Take a look." He invites me. I take his place and look through the lense, to see white bright disc in the center of my vision.

"It's so bright." I observe. I'm only seeing a bright disc of light, I wonder what it would look from up close.

"It's atmosphere is mainly thick clouds which makes it really reflective." I hear him explain behind me.

"You sound so nerdy." I remark, turning around to look at him. He crosses his arms.

"I wouldn't be building rockets if I wasn't a nerd." He retorts. True. I take another look at the planet thoufh the telescope. It's amazing to see, but I'm really curious about how it would look if I were on the surface. It's kinda sad that I'll probably never know.

"This is a really cool place to have in a house." I muse, looking back at him. He has his very own small scale observatory. "I've never seen anything quite like this."

"It's pretty nice." He agrees. I pull out my camera and snap a few picturs of the space, and we move on with the rest of the tour. After coming back down into the livingroom, we both agree to keep the massive bookshelf. That was a given; this is another huge piece of the house that never in a million years I would have considered removing even if he asked me to.

He tells me his grandfather has read evey single one of the books in there, and has even written some of them. He throws some ideas for the arrangement of the space ,and I snap e few more pictures. Then we tour the rest of the house; the dinning room, the two bedrooms upstairs, the bathroom, and the backyard. It takes us almost an hour to complete, and we're back in the living room, where I put down all my tools and start to pack up.

“Wine?"

I turn around to find him behind the kitchen ocunter, holding an expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He's trying to make me drink again! I give him a dissaproving stare.

“I bought this bottle for the occasion.” He tells me.

“What occasion?”

"Any day I get to see you is worth celebrating to me.” He coos. Oh please! “Considering how you’re always avoiding me.” He adds. Oh, I know where this is going.

“I am not going to sleep with you tonight.” I articulate, trying to sound convinving despite my amused tone.

“I’m just offering you a drink.”

“You’re trying to get me drunk.”

“Maya, you’re way smarter than this.” He tilts his head to the side.

“Excuse me?” I mimick him, crossing my arms under my chest.

“You wouldn’t be here if you really thought I was going to try to take advantage of you like that.” He points out. True. But still.

“It’s Italian wine.” He adds when I don't answer. “I think you’ll love it.”

How does he know what I like already?!

“Just one glass.” I give in. One tiny glass. I'm driving anyways so I'm not about to go crazy tonight.

“Okay.” He agrees before pulling two wine glasses from under the counter. He pours me half a glass, before serving himself.

I thim and we clink our glasses before taking a sip each. An boy this man knows his wine. I love sweet reds. Before I can even comment on the taste, there's a loud knock on the front door.

"Just in time." He comments, droping his class and walking over to the door. Who is he expecting? I hear the door open.

"Thank you Jimin." Mr Jeon says. Jimin? Isn't that his assistant? I remember his name from the time I went to the purple mansion. The door closes and Mr.Jeon reappears.

“I hope you like sushi." He announces, holding two plastic bags in his hands. Sushi?

"You ordered food?" I gasp, my face a mix of confusion and glee. "I figured you wouldn't have had time to eat." He answers, walking over to me. I watch, mesmerised as he drops the food on the counter. My eyes follow as he pulls out one, then a second, then a third plate of colorful sushi. There’s makis too, salmon, tuna, sea breaam sushi- a lot f very good stuff. I’m salivating, my eyes hugging the food close. "Hungry?" I look up and see him smirking at me. I love sushi, and I don’t know if I can refuse this offer. This is better than sex. "Well, I wouldn't want to waste." I shrug a shoulder, making him chuckle. He then pulls out the sauces, disposable chopsticks and napkins. Little white makis catch my attention. "What are these?" I ask, pointing at my first preys. "Cheese makis.” "Cheese?" I repeat. Has there been a kind I haven’t tried yet? It’s time to update the sushi-pedia. "Have bite.” Mr.Jeon proposes, splitting a pair of chopsticks. He picks one of the cheese sushi and brings it over to my face. At this moment, I don’t even feel like pointing out how inappropriate it is, this man just won’t stop. I bite the sushi off, surprised by the creaminess of the cheese. I hum appreciatively. Sushi can never go wrong, even with cheese in it. This is amazing. "Right?" He concurs, smiling softly. "It's good." I agree once I’ve swallowed. Mr. Jeon hands me another pair of chopsticks, and I dive into the colorful maki rolls. "I'm going to be honest," I trail off after the first two bites. "You have found my weak spot." I mumble. "Sushi?" He says, amused. I nod vigorously. I would have declined any other type of food he would have proposed, but not sushi. He was spot on, and I'm not ashamed for giving in. "Any physical weak spot you want to tell me about?" When I look back at him, he’s turned his body so he’s facing me. Elbow propped onto the counter, he’s giving me all his attention. Oh you wish, Mr.Hotbuttocks. "I'll let you in on a secret." I announce, twisting so I’m facing him as well. "I'm all ears." He murmurs. Feeling brave, I lean closer to him, prompting him to bend his neck and quite literally give me his ear. A distant, unused and forbidden part of my brain wants to bite his earlobe just to see his reaction. But I refrain. "I'm not having sex with you." I whisper, making him chuckle. He pulls back, shaking his head at me. I catch another sushi. "There was a time when you wouldn't say that." He says to me, eyes playful. "I was drunk." I retort. "Just tipsy." He counters. Ha! "There's not much difference." I mumble. "Let me put it another way.” He prompts, and I don’t like the smirk he’s giving me. I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you attracted to me?" He asks, but I’m not sure it’s a question. He’s looking at me dead in the eyes, probably watching my pupils dilate. I don’t think I can ever say no to that question, now that Iiterally have drunk-dialed him asking for sex. But I’m not going to admit it either. "Does it really matter?" Is the best I come up with, and he laughs at me in a short snort. I know he knows that was a lame attempt, but he ignores it. "Well, you know the feeling is mutual." He murmurs, and it makes my insides fuzzy. Such a handsome man being attracted to me physically is a confidence booster, but I also know the fact that I don’t take shit from him also plays a role in it. He likes that I'm not giving in. "You're only attracted to me because I resist you." I reply. He raises an eyebrow. "Is that why you're resisting me? So you can have me chasing you?” He asks, leaning closer to me and propping his chin on his fist. I am more phased by his words than his proximity. Am I enjoying the chase? I mean the only reason I’m not throwing myself at him is because I know when he finally gets me it’ll be over. Is that what's stopping me? Knowing there probably won't be a second time? Or is it the fact that I'll just be another rebelious woman he'd managed to tame?

“No.” I shake my head after thinking about it for too long. I mimic him, resting my head on the palm of my hand, my elbow right next to his. “Well, I’m not attracted to you because you resist me." He murmurs, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Sure.” “Let me get to my point." He prompts. Oh, whatever.

"You're submissive, right?" He asks out of the blue, taking me by surprise. Excuse me? Rude!

I immediately feel exposed, because I know he knows the answer to that question. I feel my face heat up. Where is he going with this? "Maybe." I reply, trying my hardest not to betray my panic. But I can’t bring myself to lie looking into his eyes, so I look away, earning another heartfelt chuckle. "Maybe, alright." He repeats. He sees right through me .To be fair, I am not putting the best act. I'm too easily read. I blush, I frown, I fidget, I play with my hair - I have the most telling body language and it hasn't helped me once in life. “What is your point, Mr.Jeon?” I ask, wanting to end the torture. "So when you find someone attractive, you tend to let them take control and bring you pleasure." He trails off. I nod in agreement, still unsure where this is going. "But it doesn't mean you're weak or dependent. You chose to be in that position because that's what brings you the most pleasure. In fact outside the bedroom you're a very opinionated woman and you get your way quite often." He adds. I'm still following at this point, but I know he's trying to get me somewhere I don't want to be. I repeat his words in my head a second time. I feel like I’m about to get tricked. "True." I agree reluctantly, knowing I probably shouldn't. “See, you think I'm all about the challenge and keeping women who challenge me submissive and obedient, but I work differently." He explains. Oh, I’m sure he does. "Just like you being submissive doesn't mean you're dependent and passive, me wanting to pin you against a wall and do things to you has nothing to do with my respect for you or women in general." He murmurs. Pin me against a wall and do things to me?! I take a discreet but deep breath, watching as the corner of his mouth turns into a smirk when he realises I’m already imagining things. "What I'm trying to say is," He trails off, and I think I catch his pupils dilating as our eyes meet. "When I find someone attractive, I tend to hold down..." He says, his tone lower, his voice so seductive it sounds like a purr. "And bite..." He adds, bringing the tip of his index finger just under my ear. "And kiss..." I hold his gaze while he slowly runs it down the side of my neck, barely brushing my skin but letting me feel plenty. "And lick..." He stops at the spot where my neck and shoulder connect, my hairs standing alert in the wake of his touch. His eyes don’t leave mine, intense and blazing. My libido is through the roof. I want him to do that again. Biting and kissing and licking... I’m not learning anything new here. I’ve always known this man was dominant and kinky. I’m not surprised, but he’s just so sexy. He oozes sex, he smells like sex, he looks like sex, it’s intoxicating. "Because that's what gives me the most pleasure." He adds, his voice feeling like butter. "But I also always have my partner's pleasure in mind. Sometimes more than my own." He says, barely hiding the promise in his words. He leans back as if to mark the ending of his monologue, and that’s when I realise I had stopped breathing.

I feel dizzy and my cheeks are burning. "Well,”I sigh, reaching for my wine. “Your next conquest should consider herself lucky." I say, raising my glass in his honor, before throwing the entire thing back. I feel thirsty, and hot and bothered. "Yeah, you should." He retorts, making me splutter and almost choke on my wine. He laughs at me, his laugh loud and boyish, while I try not to spit wine all over myself. “You have no shame.” I say in wonder, shaking my head at his mirth. "What should I be ashamed of? Being attracted to you?" He retorts. "Being inappropriate." I reply, narrowing my eyes at him. What a tease. "You're smiling." He counters. "It's better than you running from me." He murmurs, his words heavier than what he wants me to think. I don't think I'm running away as much as I used to. I went to dinner with him, and I'm here today. I'm still aware of the majo red flags he waved at me when we first met though. "You give me reasons to run." I argue. This man smells like trouble, and I'm hovering over a dangerous line but I'm confident in my capacity to protect myself. His gaze turns to playful to a little bit more serious. He looks pensive. "I was hoping it wasn't the case anymore." He says quietly, and he almost sounds disappointed by my answer. "I wouldn't be here if it was." I say to reassure him a little bit. "I'm glad to hear that." He smiles softly. Part of me doesn't want to make him too happy, but I guess I'll give him that.

"There's something I wanted to talk to you about." He prompts, and I feel him getting even more serious than before.

"We've never really talked about what happened with my brother." He trails off. Oh...

Way to kill the mood. I feel myself stiffen instantly as the few memories I have of that night flash back to me.

"And again, I'm sorry for what happened." He says to me. He has told me before that his brother got the "wrong impression". And I would like, in order to start contemplating the idea of forgiving me, to know how in the hell he got that wrong impression. Because to me it is unjustifiable. Was it my dress? Nope. No matter how short it could have been, and it wasn't even short. My body language? Nah. The mere fact that we were drinking? Hell to the no.

"I have always wondered how he could possibly have thought I was going to have sex with him. That still doesn't sit right with me." I tell him honestly, because if he's asking me to forgive him for thinking anything I did led him on, I'll be gone before he even finishes his sentence.

"He could tell I was attracted to you, and he knows I usually don't mind sharing." He explains to me. He doesn't mind sharing? Sharing women with his brother?!

"And he was drunk." He adds while I try to precess this information. My face is a knot of confusion. He had threesomes with his brother? Why do I feel like there's something very incestuous about it? I'm effectively grossed out.

"You share your sexual partners with him?" I utter, unable to hide the judgment in my voice. He doesn't seem fazed by the horror on my face."If they both want each other I usually don't have a problem with it." He shurgs a shoulder. How is he so cool about this? Is it normal nowadays? Am I weird for finding it weird. I mean; obviously him and Eliott aren't blood brothers, and I don't think they have sex together per say, but they both participate in a sexual act at the same time!

"So you-"

"Not threesomes, no." He cuts me off. Oh thank god!

"Huh." I exhale.

Okay, so he just doesn't mind sleeping with the same woman as his brother.

"So, hypothetically," I traill off. "If we were to sleep together- which we won't- you wouldn't -"

"I would be extremely possessive of you." He cuts me off, looking into my eyes with intent.

"Why?" I frown. He mimicks me, scrunching his eyebrows togetehr in a pensive manner. He's actually thinking about it.

"I'm not sure." He murmurs. "I guess I just don't like the thought of anyone else bringing you pleasure."

Okay?

After processing this, a tiny part of my brain thinks this means something? That maybe I'm different? I shouldn't believe him that easily though, but if that's true, then I'm confused.

"Interesting..." I muse. I don't feel like elaborating on that. The implications are way too heavy for what I want this whole thing to be.

"But okay, let's say he thought you and I were having sex." I prompt, because his explaination isn't very satisfying yet. "What made him think I'd have sex with him?"

Mr.Jeon inhales deeply, visibly a little bit embarassed to speak.

"His dumb ass thought bringing you over was what I meant by cheering him up after his breakup." He explains, and it dawns on me.

"He thought I was a bloody hooker." I conclude. He makes a face.

"Not quite. He did drink a lot before you came over too." He counters. Okay, his drunk ass thought I was a bloody hooker.

"Anyways. I hope you'll be able to forgive him one day. He's not a bad guy, just really dumb." He finishes.

"Okay." I nod. I've heard him, but I don't knwo about forgiving his brother. Not because I'm still mad or anything, but because I can't this of an istance where I'll ever have too see him again. It's not liek he was about to become my brother-in-law.

"Thank you for explaining." I say before glancing at my wtach. I have been here for nearly two hours.

"But I do have to go now, Mr.Jeon." I declare. It's getting really late. “Oh, what a shame.” I hear him complain as I slide off my stool. "Thank you for the sushi." I murmur, looking up at him. "You're most welcome, Miss Fair." He replies, standing up I as well. I gather my stuff, putting my camera and sketchbook back in my bag and throwing my coat on. "I will make plans and sketches and get back to you to schedule another meeting." I explain to him once I'm ready to leave. "How long will that take?" "I think I'll be done in a week or two." "That's a long time without seeing each other." He mutters, scratching his chin in a pensive manner. I raise a curious eyebrow. "Now I'm thinking we're only doing this so you can talk me into sleeping with you." I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. "Miss Fair, I would never." He gasps dramatically. Yes you would. I narrow my eyes at him. "No, seriously. This house means a lot to me, and I don't share this part of my life with that many people." He says more seriously, but I still think he could be doing this to get his dick wet. "Would you mind if I made you sign a contract, then?" I propose. He's all about NDA's and shit, right? "A contract?" "Yes." I concur. "So I'm guaranteed to get my fifteen percent." I explain. I don't want to dive into this and then leave the project like last time. If he ever fucks up to the point where I don't want to see him, we can still do everything via e-mail. Hott buttocks aside, this project is really exciting. He frowns down at me for a second, but is quick to shrug a shoulder. "As you wish." He concedes. "I should make you sign it before I actually start putting in the work." I muse. "I'll be out of town for a few days, I leave on Wednesday." He warns. "I'll e-mail it to you." "Or we could meet up and read it through together." He proposes. Of course he'd want that. "You're funny." I chuckle. "I'm not signing anything via e-mail." He declares. "Why?" I frown. "Don't know how that technology works." He shrugs. Now he's playing the age card? "How old are you?" I ask, realizing I still don't know how old he is. "I'm 21." He says. He keeps adding a year every time I ask him! "But you build rockets." I deadpan. He smirks- fucking smirks at me. He's so handsome it's angering. "Then I'm not designing anything for you." I retort. "Is seeing me that much of a torture?" He asks with feigned disappointment. I take a moment to think. "Not anymore." I reply. "Not anymore?" He repeats, eyebrows meeting his hairline. "But still." "But still?" He frowns, looking offended. I giggle at his reaction. "I can throw food in the mix, we can meet during our lunch break." He proposes. "Our offices are very close." Oh, god. "I'll see what I'll do tomorrow." I concede, feeling like a straight no would be too mean of me. And I actually don't know I want to say no or not. I enjoy his company. "Just remember you have the power to make a man's day by saying yes." He murmurs, stepping closer to me, hands in his pockets. He looks yummy. "I'll keep that in mind." I murmur, looking up at him. "Good." He says quietly, holding my gaze. The hairs on the back of my neck rise in alert. Why am I still wearing clothes again? "Let me walk you back." He proposes after a beat. I accept, and Mr. Jeon escorts me out of the house. "We'll have to fix these stairs as well." I mumble, looking out for any rogue piece of rock about to make me fall. "You have carte blanche for the outside. I trust you." He replies. I don't think the outside -or at least the pathway, needs a lot of work. Just some brand new steps and green grass.

"Can't wait to get to it." I reply. He walks me down the stairs and back to my car.

"Thank you for your time, Ms Fair." He says as I stand next to my Mini, ready to unlock it.

"It was a pleasure." I reply, smiling at him. I open my door and slide into my seat.

"I'll be waiting for your text." He says, leaning down to my window, eyes small and playful. I giggle.

"I'm sure you will." I tease. "Goodbye, Mr. Jeon."

"Goodbye, Miss.Fair."

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut #bangtan smut #rm smut #rm scenarios #bangtan scenarios #bts scenarios #park jimin #bts jungkook #jimin fanfic

23 notes · View notes

avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

Running to a Standstill - 18

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count: 2893

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut (mmf bisexual threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal sex)

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers. While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Epilogue

Your feet hurt a little and you were hungry to the point that you were considering just tearing a piece off the sourdough loaf you’d bought, and eating it plain before you even finished your ride up in the elevator. Even with these minor discomforts, you felt really good. You had just ventured out to the nearest bodega alone for the first time since moving to the Tower.

It had been eight months since the raid on Madripoor and while everyone had doubts that HYDRA was gone for good the new rightful ruler of Madripoor was pretty thorough with cleaning the NAZI organization out of their nation. Not for any particular need to clear out all criminal organizations mind you, just to clear out the one creating the most competition. Madripoor was for all accounts, still lawless.

All the people involved in the production and distribution of the super-soldier drug had been arrested. You had hopes that the drug might end up virtually extinct the way the Quaalude was now. However, you logically knew someone who still had them would try and replicate them. Given the fact that the drugs existed in the first place because someone was trying to replicate what they’d done to Steve way back in 1943.

What you’d stopped being worried about was them bothering you anymore. The Avengers, thanks to Tony, Vision, FRIDAY, and with a little help from Geo, had managed to remove any details regarding the names of people who were experimented on. Which meant there was no one left to know that Geo had powers and no one left to hunt you. You were safe and you could finally have some semblance of a normal life.

It had taken you a while for any of you to trust that. For a month you still didn’t want to go out at all just in case there was some kind of retaliation or last-ditch effort to grab you. When you finally did it was with Bucky and a group of guards. Gradually the guards dropped in number. When all the HYDRA members were convicted you started to go out with just Bucky and every time you went out, there was no one watching you that shouldn’t be. No one followed you or made you feel unsafe. Sure, Bucky would get looks but you could tell the difference between Avengers groupies and the people who had been trying to kidnap your son.

Today was the first time you’d ventured out alone. It was only down the street and you still weren’t brave enough to take Geo out without at least Bucky or Steve with you, but it was a start. You’d only looked over your shoulder a few times. You’d done this alone for years, you knew what to look out for and it wasn’t there. You were safe.

More than safe, you were happy. With all that weight off your shoulders, you were able to just enjoy life again. Every part of it. Being a mother wasn’t just a case of protection and high alert twenty-four/seven. You played with Geo more. You let your guard down and let him get on with the job of being a kid. You started to look back into the things you had studied in college and were seriously beginning to consider studying again so you might be able to have an actual career and not just a cash-under-the-table job that paid your bills but kept you off the books. You were looking at schools for Geo. You were letting yourself be a girlfriend and opening yourself up to the fact that this could be it. You might have actually found two people that were your people the same way your husband had been.

The apartment was alive with sound and smells as you stepped in. Bucky was cooking, he’d just started when you’d ducked down to the bodega for a couple of missing ingredients and now the whole place was full of the scent of garlic, herbs, and cooking tomato. Music was playing over the speaker and Geo seemed to be talking animatedly with the AI as the two of them played some digital version of snap using his tablet. Steve sat with a sketchbook on his knee. There were crayons scattered over the table from when he’d been drawing with Geo but now he was just sitting with his pencil poised but not actually drawing anything.

“He looked up when you came in and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. How did you go?”

“Good,” you said, as Bucky abandoned whatever it was he was stirring and rushed over to you. “Got a little jumpy at the alleys but there was nothing to worry about.”

“Did you get what I needed?” Bucky asked, digging around your fabric bag while it still hung from your elbow and fishing out items as he found them.

“Yes, honey,” you said, pushing the whole bag into his hands. “Here take it.”

Bucky took the bag and you went to sit down with Steve and Geo. Steve took your hand as you went to pass him, and you let him pull you down into his lap. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal,” you said. “I used to go out on my own all the time when I was on the run. I didn’t have a lot of other choices.”

Steve’s arm circled your waist and he nosed at the side of your neck. “I know. Still. I’m glad you're starting to feel safe.”

You relaxed in his lap and Geo climbed up onto you. You did feel safe. And loved. And all the things you had missed for three years. Despite the fact you had been trying to go slow for Geo’s sake, it was hard when you felt like this with them. It was clear that Geo was feeling just as safe and at home as you were.

When he was very upset he was still the mommy’s boy he’d always been, but more and more he was turning to Steve and Bucky. Not just when he wanted to be comforted. He did it when he was excited about something, or wanted to play a game, or have a story told to him. He’d ask them to take him out or take him up to the pool. As scary as it was for you to see Geo starting to treat these two men the way he would have his own father, as melancholy as that hit, it was still happening. Geo now had two father figures where he once had none.

Even though neither had said anything about it, you could tell they were seeing Geo as a son too. This was your family now and some moments terrified you, but mostly you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. There were days where you thanked whatever force it was that had led you to not only apply for a lease in Clint Barton’s apartment block but to begin dog sitting for him so that you just happened to be dropping Lucky off at the same time Steve and Bucky were there.

Bucky called you all for dinner and you ate around a table sharing stories about your day and making plans for the following day. Just like a family on an old sitcom, only with extra dads and you all genuinely liked each other.

After dinner you gave Geo his bath and took him to bed, reading to him from a comic about Figment the dragon from that old Disney ride at Epcot. It was a comic that Bucky owned for some reason which was odd because he would have been in cryo freeze during the entire time that ride even existed, yet he had it none-the-less. Geo spent a lot of time looking at each picture so that the thin comic that would normally only take five minutes to get through was being dragged out so it was closer to twenty.

“Bug-key sayed dat dis dwagons was a robod,” Geo said, tapping the cover when you were done reading.

You chuckled. “It was, and it’s weird he even knows that,” you confirmed. “The robot dragon is gone now. We can take you to Disney World some time, then you can see all the different robots. I don’t think any of them will be as smart as FRIDAY though.”

“No…” Geo said, shaking his head. “FWIDAY is da smartest.”

“Thank you, Geo,” FRIDAY replied, the fondness of the little boy evident in her voice.

“Alright, you,” you said, putting the comic away. “Lie down. Time to sleep.”

He flopped back onto the pillow and you kissed his forehead. “Good night, I love you,” you said.

“Wuv you too, mommy,” he replied. “Have sweed dreams.”

“You too, little one.”

“Mommy,” he said as you got up. “I dotta say goodnight to Bug-key and Steeb.”

You chuckled. “I’ll send them in.”

You stepped out of the bedroom to find Bucky and Steve sharing the recliner as they watched the news. “He wants to say goodnight to both of you too.”

“We can manage that,” Steve said as they both got up.

Bucky and Steve went into Geo’s room as you went and got ready for bed too. It was still early but you figured whatever the plans were for tonight, they’d be more enjoyable in your pajamas. When you came out into the bedroom you shared with Bucky and Steve, they were there getting undressed.

“He didn’t cause you any trouble?” You asked.

“No. He just said goodnight and had FRIDAY turn out the lights,” Steve answered.

“I like when I’m here to say goodnight to him,” Bucky added. “He’s so funny how he wishes you sweet dreams too.”

“Yeah, we can use them,” Steve added.

“Speaking of,” you said and looked over at Steve. Lately, when you and Steve had been alone, you’d started talking about Bucky moving in. He was here a lot anyway and the times he wasn’t it felt like he was missing. The three of you still took time to enjoy each other one-on-one, but now you were all happier and more relaxed when it was the three of you.

Bucky froze in the process of stepping out of his jeans and stared at you like a deer in headlights. “What? What did I do?”

“Nothing, Buck,” Steve chuckled. “We were wondering… hoping really, that you’d move in here with us.”

“What? Really?” Bucky said, standing up straight and looking between the two of you.

“Yeah. You don’t have to decide right now…” Steve said.

“No, I want to,” Bucky said, lurching forward, completely forgetting he was still in his jeans and falling flat on his face.

“Bucky!” You yelped, rushing to his side and helping him back up, while Steve watched on with a slightly bemused look on his face.

“I’m okay. I’m good,” Bucky assured you as he got back up and kicked off his pants. “I want to move in. When?”

“Whenever you like,” Steve said. “We can bring your stuff down tomorrow if you like.”

“I do like,” Bucky said. He pulled you close and cradled your face. “Yes, I want to.” He leaned in and kissed you deeply. As the two of you kissed, Bucky reached out to Steve, pulling him closer, so when Bucky pulled back from you, he moved straight to kissing him. You ran your hands down Steve’s chest and nuzzled at Bucky’s neck, nipping at his throat gently.

Bucky pulled back and smirked at you. “You tryin’ to start up some celebrations, huh?”

“Maybe?” You giggled, tugging on his boxers.

“I think that might be something that can be arranged,” Steve teased. He picked you up like you weighed nothing and tossed you onto the bed. You squealed and quickly spread your legs and opened your arms to Bucky as he crawled up your body. He began to unbutton your flannel pajama top and kissed your skin along each new part that became exposed to him. His fingers brushed over your breasts as he pulled the fabric apart and your right nipple, puckered and hardened under the cool metal of his left hand.

Steve took off his boxers and moved up beside you. He leaned in and kissed you. His lips moved slowly against yours and his tongue teased the corner of your mouth. You reached down and massaged his cock. He was already semi-hard and as your palm moved up and down his length and you curled your fingers around his shaft, the blood rushed to it.

Bucky began to grind down against your cunt. You could feel the press of his cock through the fabric of your pants, the thick shaft pushing between your folds and rubbing up and down against your pussy, making your whole body tingle and your cunt start to drip. He leaned down and pulled one of your nipples into his mouth. His teeth pressed against it and you moaned, breaking the kiss with Steve and arching your back so you pushed your breast up into Bucky’s greedy mouth.

Steve moved to his knees, pumping his cock as he looked down at you. You leaned up and lapped over the head as it disappeared and reappeared under the foreskin with each pump of Steve’s hand. He teased the head over your lips and you opened your mouth, letting him guide his cock into your mouth.

As you sucked hard up and down Steve’s shaft, Bucky moved from one breast to the other. His hand slipped down into your pajama pants and he quickly fingered your clit in small circles as he ground his cock against you.

Your whole body buzzed like an electric current was swirling through your veins, making your body thrum. You moaned into Steve’s cock as a hot pit pressed down inside you and your fluids slicked your folds. Bucky pulled back and pulled your pajama pants off. You released Steve’s cock and no sooner had you sat up that Steve was up beside you and pulling you into his lap.

“Mmm… did you want something?” You asked as you straddled his lap and started to grind down on his cock.

Steve cradled your jaw. “I think you know,” he teased. You smirked and leaned in and kissed him deeply. As you dipped your tongue into his mouth, you guided him inside of you.

You both moaned into the kiss and you slowly rolled your hips with his, appreciating the way he stretched and filled you. Bucky got up and grabbed the lube. He moved behind you and kissed your shoulder as he put his hand on Steve’s chest and pushed him back on the bed. You lay down with him, pressing your body against his chest and continuing to bounce on his cock as Bucky lifted Steve’s legs and pushing them up against your sides. He began to apply lube to Steve’s ass, sinking a finger into Steve’s ass.

Steve gasped and bucked up under you. You broke the kiss with Steve and you looked down into his blue eyes. “Feel good, Steve?” You purred.

He groaned and closed his eyes. “Yes. Oh god, yes.”

“You want my cock, Stevie?” Bucky teased.

“Please,” Steve groaned arching his back and forcing his cock up into you deeper.

Bucky took his hand away and slicked his cock. Steve raised his hips needily and as Bucky sunk in Steve groaned and dug his fingers into your hips. You started kissing Steve again and moved with Bucky as he started to thrust. Bucky’s stomach pushed your forward with every snap of his hips, pushing you up and down on Steve’s cock. Steve was breathless and moaning under you both. He reached up and grabbed Bucky’s hand, holding it against your back as the two of you fucked him.

A sheen of sweat began to cling to your skin and your skin prickled. A dull ache built in your cunt, making your walls clench and spasm around Steve’s thick shaft. Steve groaned and his hands opened and closed on your back. You slipped your hand between the two of you and began to finger your clit.

It brought you over. Your orgasm shuddered through you and you moaned loudly. Steve gasped and jerked up under you, coming deep inside your pussy. Bucky kept thrusting. His hand tightened in Steve’s and his hips began to stutter. You kept being bounced forward on Steve’s now softening cock with each thrust of Bucky’s hips. With a groan and a hard thrust, Bucky came.

The three of you slithered into a pile, your breathing coming much more labored than theirs. Bucky rolled on his side and ran his metal fingers down your stomach. “We break you?”

“Mm-hmm…” You hummed. “In the best way.”

“Well we can now do that any time,” he said.

You laughed and pushed him. “Did you forget I have a toddler?”

Bucky hummed and kissed your shoulder.

“Big changes,” Steve said. “It’ll be good though. Us together.”

You smiled and cuddled in between us. He was right. It was a big change. You had been through a lot of change in the last five years, but this was the first one since Geo was born that you felt truly excited about one.

To be continued in Until the End of the World...

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #captain america fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert

246 notes · View notes

unioncolours · 3 years

Text

A 2nd Majsasaurus Year!

Today, 22nd of September 2021, it’s been two years since I officially joined the magical world of fandom. 22.9.2019 I uploaded the first chapter to my fic Shadows and Sand, and the rest is history.

I did a deep dive into my first year as a fic writer and active member of fandom last year, when it was my first anniversary. You can read it here!

In that meta discussion about my membership of fandom, I presented it as if walking on clouds. I was so, so happy and talked during all the discussion about my happiness in fandom.

Since that post was written, my life and also my perception of the fandom I am part of has changed. Change isn’t always bad, as I really had a honeymoon phase with fandom over a year ago, and the low after hit hard.

But let’s see what I’ve been up to and what I’ve been writing! The following year provided much change and fun things! Please keep reading 💜⬇

The first fic I wrote since 22.9.2020 was a Sakura x Ino fic. I had for a longer while been interested in writing a woman-loves-woman ship, which I had never done before, and as a wlw-person myself the urge to explore that part led to Promise me this is just a kiss. The pairing itself was chosen on rather random, it had to be two women and I like Ino, so I chose the most popular Ino-wlw ship for this for convenience.

I really liked writing the fic and it was well-received! It was the first time I had written a fic that was entirely centred around exploring feelings and having sex.

After this I jumped directly onto the next idea that had been boiling inside me for a longer while. Up to this point, all I had written, except the wlw-fic, had been set in the Naruto canonverse and I was itching to try to work with a multi-chaptered modern au! The pairing was of course my beloved Shikadai x Inojin.

It was during the creation of this fic I began to struggle. This was a new genre, as this was romance only and all my other works had been action and fantasy based, except the sex fic of course. I was maybe over critical and stressed, which resulted in me having a hard time writing it. But I made it. Was the sky always this beautiful? ended up being 35k long, and in hindsight, I freaking love, love, love how it turned out in the end and what it represented. I am very proud of this fic.

I “upgraded” as a fan by the end of October when I bought myself a digital drawing tablet. I began drawing fanart of Shikadai and Inojin and preferably them two together, haha! I still draw a few days a month and find it extremely fun as a side hobby beside the writing.

We are now in November 2020. By this time, I had completely finished my zine fic, Under the Scorching Sun, which I had written during September and October, for the Shikatema zine I was kindly accepted to. I was proud of what I had created and was eager for the rest of the contributors to wrap up theirs, so we’d have a wonderful zine for sale in 2021. It was lovely to write ShikaTema again. As the zine fic was about to be released in months from when I had at first finished it, I wanted of course to write something fans and friends could immediately take part of on the internet. I had hyped myself up to a state where I wanted to write a third and final story in my series To love and never let go, my epic series about Shikadai and Inojin.

Now, I should maybe have waited another month, but I was worried the readers would give up on me if I didn’t write it right away. In December, I began writing To find hope in the Universe, with my usual speed and love for the art.

What I by then didn’t realise or even recognise was that I was very slowly turning burned out. I ignored all the signs.

In December I wrote simultaneously as Hope in the Universe a fic that was part of the Shikatema server’s Secret Santa event. The fic’s name was The Ghost Stories of our Hearts, and it was ShikaTema, as the event’s name suggests. It was fun to write and despite the final big fic, Hope in the Universe, pressing down on me, I finished The Ghost Stories of our Hearts and was very happy with the result. Sadly, at this point the burnout began taking control over me, and I never managed to reply to the comments.

The 15th of January, I began uploading To find hope in the Universe. It was a lovely experience, even if it was tainted by negative feelings coming from my decreasing happiness and the fact that it didn’t do as well as To dance above the Stars, the second fic in the series. To deal with two very contradiction emotions, loving my work, the characters, how I have painted an entire world around the characters and how I knew some people honestly loved my hard work, and then the negative feelings coming from not feeling good enough and depressed, was a difficult thing to navigate and still is when I think back to that time. It didn’t help that during the process of uploading the fic I went through grief, and I chose distraction as my coping method. I kept writing and working, the only thing I ever knew.

Our pre-order of the Shikatema zine was in full motion by this time and it was a nerve-wracking time! Mostly because of excitement but also worry. I’m super happy for my friends who were part of the zine, with whom I could share all the excitement and nervousness with. The zine ended up making good sales, which made me happy among the uploading of the long fic.

To find hope in the Universe was completed 31st of March 2021. When I uploaded the final chapter, I felt nothing. It was so weird, so spooky, to have finished a long fic and a series on top of that and not feel anything. But deep down, beneath the layer of depression, I felt great pride.

That was the emotion that broke free once the burnout left me. Pride.

I had created this empire of Shikajin, a whole alternative timeline, an alternative canon from my own head and to this day, that is my internet legacy. I love Trial of the Heart, which I wrote in 2020, but if I have to choose between ToH and this series, I will choose To love and never let go in a heartbeat.

So, even if it felt depressing and hopeless in the moment, I look now back with pride and happiness. Never forget that. Never forget that I made that.

April was a curious time. I swore to not write anything, because I had by now recognised that I was burned out and needed to rest, yet managed to scrape together three smaller fics.

The first one was another wlw-smut fic, TemaSaku this time called Another Light. I wanted to explore that part once again. I wrote it in canonverse and honestly think the fic ended up extremely nice. Perfect amount of feels and sex. It didn’t feel hard to write at all, because the setting, characters and emotions were so different from the fics I had written the last five months.

Now more interesting things lay on the horizon! A new zine, the Ino-Shika-Cho zine called Beyond a Bond had an interest check during the spring, and later the contributor application. I urged in the interest check to please give us the next gen kids, Shikadai, Inojin and Chocho – my kids and babies, and when it turned out they were going to feature, I had to apply as a writer. For this application I wrote a one shot, called It’s just hair, and I loved this spunky little story featuring the best babies that I created.

I also edited one of my tumblr fics, And then I kissed him, into a longer, better version that I later in May uploaded onto AO3. It was once again a Shikajin, a sequel of Trial of the Heart, and it was a fun little project.

Now May came and I sent in the application for the zine early, which I now am relieved I did. I am happy that I did the work for the application in April instead of May, because in May I had a few breakdowns and another grieving period, which lead to complete creative paralysis. I didn’t write a single word during May, only uploaded the two one shots I had prepared in April.

What I did do in May was to read through the Shikatema zine I had contributed to! It arrived in the mail! I was so nervous; my whole body was shaking when I opened the package right outside the post office. The zine now resides on the parade place in my little zine shrine in the bookshelf. Thank you to the mods who made this a reality!

To my great happiness my zine adventures continued as I was accepted to the Ino-Shika-Cho zine as a writer and was assigned to write my favourite characters. I felt so relieved and overjoyed, mind blown by the sheer talent among the contributors.

On the other fandom front, June didn’t continue any brighter, with stress and mental pain still having a strong grip around me, despite the very happy news that I am still so grateful for. I wrote a Yamanaka family fic which to this day hasn’t seen the light of AO3, because of negative emotions surrounding it. I turned into a complete wreck compared to me in June 2020. In June 2020 I was flourishing, I loved what I did, I loved fandom and I loved the friends I had made through Discord servers. Now I could find myself crying my eyes out over a wip not going the way I wished it would. What had happened to Bex 2021?

I was so incredibly frustrated with myself, groaning in defeat when my hands just couldn’t write. I managed to push through 6k of what I called my “emo au” – more of that later – and finish the Yamanaka fic which is still buried, and on top of that I had the zine and another fandom event, The Naruto Photo Album, to create content for. Why couldn’t I do it? Why couldn’t I find happiness in something that once was my reason for happiness?

In the end, I managed to write 15k in June. My former monthly word count used to be 30k. One could think this would turn into the end of my fic writing career, or the beginning of a longer hiatus, but I am stubborn and want to meet the expectations of the people who love my content, so I didn’t want to give up. I wanted to try. I wanted to be whoever I was before.

Funnily enough, the healing came in the shape of the most self-indulgent fic I have ever, ever written, a fic I like possessed began writing July the 1st 2021. It was nothing less than a freaking fairy tale AU, namely a Shikadai x Inojin Peter Pan AU. I can hear you laugh at the silliness of it, but this whimsical AU gave me back my love for writing. I hyper-fixated on this story quite a bit and stopped writing on everything else, something I almost never do.

Only happy boys fly ended up being 21 000 words long! I knew it was a niched story, and true to my guesses, the story has to this day very low stats. Today, two months after it was published, it has just above 100 hits and 10 kudos, so for all I know, only ten people read and liked it. I try to not care too much, since I love the story and in some way, that story saved me from going batshit insane over my emotions about writing.

At this point I had begun writing my fic from the Ino-Shika-Cho zine, finding joy in silly scenes with my favourite characters and trying to heal. The writing process was frustratingly slow, but one word at a time I got forward and as of today, the draft is done. The pre-orders are in December. At the side of the zine fic I wrote a short fluffy Shikajin story, CLEAR, a story with almost no plot, because I knew how much self-indulgence could help me.

And then, I finally began writing for real on my emo au, A gang of fallen stars, which has the first few chapters up right now! I have for the first time in six months a longer fic (if we don’t count the Peter Pan story) and it feels… good. This fic is once again a modern au, but in darker tones than my other modern au from November 2020. I honestly like what I have so far, even if I during June and July almost planned to never finish it. I am so relieved I managed to begin the upload. In September the Photo Album was released and I could show my two fics I wrote for it.

It sounds like this year has been nothing but misery, and at times it felt like it. However, there are a few fandom friends who brought light to my life when I couldn’t see it. The first ones to mention are of course my partners in crime, @notquitejiraiya and @thespookymoth. Together we created a server dedicated to Ino-Shika-Cho during the spring and it has been tons of fun with the members there! Thank you two for listening to me and for being my friends during 2021.

I also have to mention Soverel, who carefully begun taking contact through comments and likes on my twitter, and later through direct messages, and it has been a fun ride ever since. We’ve had lovely discussions which are very dear to me and your support means a lot to me. Thank you for being you and for drawing so many wonderful artworks you’ve shared with me. Haha, and for making me play Genshin Impact, even though I do it like twice a month!

Another person who has made my days so much brighter is @sugarriene. Thank you for sending me that one dm that made us chat regularly, thank you for popping up and sharing panels and your wonderful drawings with me, and for vibing head canons with me. You are a lovely person, and you make me happy.

Finally, I want to give a shout out to @yoboseyokyu for listening to me when I had to yell into the void and for making me happy with your cute posts on both twitter and tumblr.

Since September 2020, I’ve written around 195 000 words and drawn close to 35 illustrations, most of them of Shikadai and Inojin. Almost 200 000 words of Majsasaurus. I’ve created a Discord server and I’ve been part of two zines as a writer, plus a free PDF-project.

It has been a wild year. A year filled with passion for my favourite characters and ship, with the excitement that came with being part of projects and hyping them. It was a year where I learned to draw digitally, and heck what fun it was.

This also a year where I learned people can be mean to me because of what I ship and that fandom friends won’t necessarily always stay to be your friend anymore and how much it can hurt. I also learned what my limits are, and what punishment I get if I don’t listen to my own mind and rest when I have to.

It was a year, guys.

Now, onto the third Majsasaurus Year. Cheers!

And those of you, who supported me when I needed it – thank you and I love you.

#majsasaurus

8 notes · View notes

andinewton · 4 years

Text

Victor x MC(Reader) Bake My Way Into Your Heart

Fandom: MLQC

Pairing: VictorxMC(Reader)

Warnings: None I can think of

Summary: You ask Victor’s advice on baking. He doesn’t trust you not to screw it up. He was right.

MC - 10.47am: Sorry to bother you…do you happen to have a foolproof recipe for sugar

cookies?

MC - 11.02am: Don’t worry, I think I found one!

Victor - 11.03am: What do you mean?

MC - 11.04am: I mean I found a recipe that looks simple enough!

Victor - 11.06am: You’re trying to cook?

MC - 11.09am: I’m not trying. I’m going to succeed! I’ll send you pics when I’m

done, and if you’re lucky I might bring you one!

Victor looked from his phone to his schedule and sighed. He pressed the intercom on his phone and spoke clearly. ‘Goldman, cancel my appointments for the rest of the day.’

‘Are you going somewhere, sir?’ Goldman asked as he looked over all the important meetings lined up.

‘Yes. I’m going to stop an idiot in distress before it happens.’

🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

You wiped your hand across your forehead as you looked at the dough in your bowl. It was supposed to be in one solid lump. The only way you could describe the mess in front of you was crumbs. Sighing heavily you resigned yourself to starting over, picking up the bowl only to have it slip through your floury fingers, making you squeal as you preempted the crash and mess to follow. But, to your surprise, it didn’t happen. The doorbell rang as you stared at the bowl just hovering in the air just a few inches from hitting the floor and you realised why.

‘Come in, Victor!’ You called before plucking the bowl out of the air and putting it back on the counter.

‘What a mess.’ Victor remarked as he looked over the flour-covered surfaces, his eyes finally falling on you as you turned around. ‘And I see it’s not just the kitchen.’

Wiping your hands on your apron you wished you had a mirror. You had hastily caught up your hair into a messy ponytail and thrown on torn jeans and a loose t-shirt, not something you would have chosen if you knew Victor was coming over. It wasn’t that you had a crush on the man in control of your company’s funding, it was that you were all out in love with him. But that was fine, you told yourself. It was a professional relationship, you didn’t see him outside of work…except you did…and more than once he had come to your rescue. He irritated you enough that you knew it wasn’t hero-worship, but damn if he didn’t look hot with fire in his eyes and ice in his words.

‘I’m trying, okay?’ You replied, clearing up as best you could.

‘I know you are.’ He huffed out a breath. ‘Show me the recipe.’

You pointed towards the tablet on the side, the screen long since locked as you tried to bring the mixture together. ‘It’s on there.’

‘Passcode?’

‘I don’t have one.’

‘Idiot.’ He replied as he opened the tablet and read over the recipe. ‘This is incredibly simple, I can’t believe even you couldn’t follow it.’

‘I think my flour is out of date.’ You admitted. ‘And I didn’t have the right sugar.’

‘Are you trying to kill yourself or just give yourself food poisoning?’ He put the tablet back down. ‘What exactly inspired this ill-gotten idea?’

‘I used to make cookies to hang on the Christmas tree with my dad.’ You replied with your head down as you concentrated on wiping down the counter. ‘I thought it would be nice to make some to give to my friends and colleagues.’

Victor knew you missed your father and he couldn’t fault that your heart was in the right place. Your strategy and execution of the task, however, were incredibly flawed. ‘I’ll help you.’

Your eyes shot up to meet his out of sheer surprise. ‘You want to…help…me?’ You never thought you’d hear those words from him, let alone in reference to baking.

‘Of course. If I let you perish in some baking-related accident then I’ll have to start training some other dummy.’

‘But I’ll have to go buy more ingredients. And are you sure you have time?’ You offered him an out, knowing how busy he was.

‘You’re good.’ He walked back through to where he had left a bag by the door, full of high-quality ingredients he had collected from Souvenir on his way over. ‘So you can throw all of that out of date danger food in the trash.’

You blushed faintly at his obvious-to-you concern. ‘Thanks, Victor.’

‘Don’t thank me yet,’ he replied, ‘I’m not helping you clean up this mess.’ He waved his hand at the countertops and you blushed harder at him having seen your place in such a state.

‘I’ll get on that right away.’

🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

A little under an hour later, the kitchen was clean, and the dough looked like it was supposed to, coming together slowly but surely. Victor had supervised, at times having to hold himself back from taking over, knowing this was important to you, but as the mixture began to take shape he could hold back no longer. His jacket, tie, and waistcoat were long since gone, draped over a chair, and his sleeves neatly folded back above his elbow.

‘Don’t be afraid of it.’ Victor’s voice was suddenly so close to you, the low tone rumbling through you as his arms curved around your body to join your hands in the bowl. ‘Some things require a more gentle touch, like meringues, but dough can stand a firm hand. It thrives on it.’

You swallowed hard at the warmth of his body against yours, trying to remember if you had heard him move, if he had made a sound at all, or if you had been too engrossed in your work to notice. It didn’t really matter which it was, if any of them, but you wish you had had some warning, even as the heat crept up your neck and to your cheeks.

‘Firm hand, got it.’ You nodded to show you were listening, but the movement made your hair brush against him, reminding you once again of his proximity. And then your mouth spat out what you were thinking without meaning to. ‘I guess you’d know best in that respect.’

His hands froze in the mixture over your own for a moment before moving it for kneading on the countertop. ‘And why would that be?’

His breath rustled your hair and your breath stuttered in your throat. You really hoped he hadn’t heard that. ‘Because...you know about cooking!’ You replied confidently. ‘If I had to whip meringue I’d probably give it a good thrashing and completely wreck it!’

Victor swallowed heavily at the image her innocent words brought to mind and he shifted his pelvis just enough to relieve the burgeoning discomfort caused by them. ‘When are you going to learn,’ he murmured, his voice unusually soft, ‘that if you ever want some pointers I’m more than happy to oblige.’

‘You’re just so busy.’ You replied in an equally hushed tone, making the moment more intimate somehow. ‘I want to be able to cook better but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your valuable time.’

Victor’s hands slid from the dough to cover yours and you heard him draw a breath, as though he was about to speak, but then he stepped back, his hands withdrawing. ‘That’s ready to roll out now.’

You swallowed heavily before replying. ‘Right.’

🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

You made tea while the cookies were in the oven and served it to Victor at the little two seater table that sat in front of the window. You just couldn’t settle enough to sit as Victor’s actions had both your heart and stomach fluttering. You had so far asked if his tea was okay, offered him milk, sugar, honey, lemon, and boba; offered to make him something to eat, not that you thought for a second anything you made would be up to his standards; offered to pay him for the groceries he brought with him; and busied yourself clearing up what you had used and preparing the wire rack for the cookies to cool down. Eventually Victor evidently had enough.

‘Sit.’ He said firmly, and you were in the seat opposite him before you realised it. ‘That wasn’t an order.’ He smirked before sipping his tea. ‘Just like this isn’t. Drink with me?’

‘Sure.’ You smiled slightly before sitting in the seat opposite and picking up the teapot and pouring yourself a cup. ‘I don’t know if I said already, but thank you for coming to my rescue.’

‘You don’t owe me thanks.’ He rested his teacup down again. ‘I couldn’t leave you to potentially burn down half of the city, could I?’

‘It wouldn’t have been very responsible of you, it’s true.’

You sat quietly for a few moments when Victor spoke again. ‘Do you plan on decorating the cookies?’

‘I bought some pre-prepared frosting with a piping nozzle, and some seasonal decorations.’

‘You probably won’t come to any harm doing that.’ He mused. ‘But I’ll stay and help you, just in case.’

‘If you have somewhere to be, you don’t have to.’ You assured him. ‘I’m sure I already caused chaos with your schedule because of this as it is. Goldman is probably sticking pins in a little me voodoo doll even as we sit here drinking tea.’

Victor laughed so suddenly you almost spilled your tea. ‘He wouldn’t do that. He likes you.’

‘At least someone does.’ You quirked him a sideways smile.

‘Just because I’m firm with you doesn’t mean I don’t like you.’ He frowned.

‘I think harsh is more the right word.’

‘Sometimes you need a little push.’ He teased.

‘So if it’s only a little push why do I always feel like you’re throwing me into the deep end?’

‘It builds character, and I know you’re capable of more than you give yourself credit for.’

‘I appreciate the fact you have faith in me.’ You said quietly as you stared into your teacup. ‘But I guess it also makes me feel like I’m not doing a good job if you have to set me straight all the while.’

‘You’re doing a good job, for the most part. You just need…polishing.’

‘I guess that’s a nice way to put the fact I don’t do a good enough job.’

You didn’t see the look Victor gave you, a gentle one of consideration. ‘Nobody’s perfect.’

‘You are.’ It was only when the words left you that you realised what you had said, your eyes darting up to meet his as you felt heat rush through you in an embarrassed wave. ‘That is to say, I mean…’ You stammered, which was when the oven timer went off.

‘Saved by the bell.’ Victor murmured, quickly getting to his feet, and for a moment you thought you saw a pink tinge to the top of his ears.

Swallowing down the panicked lump in your throat, you hurried to grab the oven mitts as you came up with a logical response in your mind. That logical response, however, turned into a spew of Victor appreciation. ‘What I meant was you’re an amazing businessman, you can cook, you have an awesome evol, you dress nice, you know your stuff, you’re handsome, you…ow!’

In your rush you lost concentration for a moment and caught the inside of your wrist on the rack above as you removed the first batch of cookies. You didn’t drop them, thankfully, but your wrist stung like hell. Depositing the tray none too gently on the stove you shook off the oven mitts and blew on your wrist.

‘Idiot.’ Victor’s voice came from close beside you and you glanced up to find him beside you, his hand reaching for yours.

‘It’s okay.’ You murmured, voice barely above a whisper, but his fingers curved around your hand regardless, pulling you towards the sink where he immediately turned on the cold tap. You gasped as the cold water hit your tender skin but Victor held you in place, his grip firm yet tender.

‘You need to be careful, pay attention to what you’re doing.’

‘I know that.’ You replied, watching as he concentrated on your burn.

‘I won’t always be there to help you, you know?’

‘I know that too.’ You looked up at him. ‘But you always are. Even if it’s with a sharp word or two.’

‘Does it hurt?’ He replied quietly.

‘No more than any of your normal quips.’ You shrugged.

Victor’s lips quirked in a small smile, realising you had misunderstood. ‘This.’ He tapped your wrist with the damp cloth.

‘Oh! It tingles more than hurts.’

He examined the mark closer, his fingers warm against your skin. ‘I think we got water on it fast enough. It shouldn’t blister.’

‘So I don’t need to dress it or anything else?’

‘No dressing, no. What’s the anything else you would consider treating a burn with?’ He asked.

‘Uh…I don’t know.’ You replied hesitantly, before thinking of an answer. ‘A kiss better?’

He raised an eyebrow at how forward your suggestion, realising it was entirely innocent as your cheeks darkened. ‘You want me to kiss it better?’

‘Oh, no, no, no.’ You shook your head rapidly. ‘I just meant…’

Words failed you as he looked you dead in the eyes and brought his lips to your wrist, the gentle touch barely noticeable over the burn itself, but it had your heart beating a mile a minute.

‘Did that help?’ His voice was low, impossibly intimate in such close confines.

You swallowed hard and tried to speak twice before any words came out. ‘It stung a little.’ You whispered.

‘Then maybe that’s not what I need to kiss to make you feel better.’

At that point, you swore your brain melted as you seemed to forget how to function, that or your internal wiring blew a fuse. Then it blew completely when his palm caressed your cheek, his thumb grazed your skin. You had a moment of clarity when you realised what was about to happen, then his lips were on yours. In all the times you had fantasised about kissing Victor, gentle had been the furthest from your assumptions. Passionate, demanding, fiery, yes, yet nothing about this kiss was aggressive. He kissed you like you were fragile, as though you could break or disappear at any moment. Fingers touched your hair like they were the finest silk, lips brushed yours so softly it was barely a touch at all, yet still consistent in their task of caressing yours. His other hand tentatively splayed on the base of your spine, yet he didn’t draw you closer, rather he kept a respectful distance between your bodies as though he was waiting for reassurance that this was truly what you wanted. And there was no doubt in your mind that it was.

Your fingers hand found their way to the front of his shirt, grasping the material as much to anchor yourself as to keep him close, and you fought with yourself to keep the kiss as innocent as it was.

His lips left yours on a sigh but you kept your eyes closed for a moment before opening them to find Victor filling your vision. His eyes flickered from side to side, searching your face for any sign that would clue him in as to how you were responding.

‘That does feel a little better.’ You admitted huskily, making him chuckle.

‘Maybe we should transfer those cookies now.’ He suggested.

��I think they can wait a couple more minutes.’ You smiled, before closing the distance between you, the smile on Victor’s lips a hundred times sweeter than the cookies you had made.

#mlqc #mlqc victor #fanfic

144 notes · View notes

tgwltw · 5 years

Text

mother’s day

this was supposed to be Damian centric but things just turned out like this. I haven’t been writing in a while since I was so busy with real life so this might be a tad bit boring for some nevertheless, I hope you still enjoy reading this!

p/s: i’m still not sure if i will ever find the muse to write the older requests but i’ll try to finish them!

Let it never be said that Damian Wayne does not lowkey wish for all of your attention to be on him and only on him, none with any of his ‘brothers’. (He already has to vye for your attention whenever father is around - he feels the need to assert dominance when his brothers are around). Despite having an actual mother - who is merely a mother in name and nothing but - you have somehow managed to worm your way in to his heart and settled in deep. Even if Damian has never said anything about accepting you as his ummioutright, he knows you know him well enough to decipher the things he actually means when he speaks and as much as he hates it, Damian feels flattered and grateful that you do not scorn him or even push him away.

Which is why when his brothers started coming over frequently to the manor during the week Mother’s Day is to happen, Damian finds it irksome. Not only had he caught Todd snooping around his ummi’s room, he also caught Drake trying to subtly (Damian doubts you aren’t privy to his intention - you have a way of just knowing) to ask you if there is anything you wanted. However, Damian’s biggest concern aren’t Todd or Drake - his biggest concern comes in the form of one Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson who has known you the longest and probably also knows you the best amongst all of them. It just does not sit well with Damian at all because he is the true son of Bruce Wayne therefore he should be entitled and privy to all of your love and affection. Trying to top Grayson’s present for you will be extremely hard.

“Penny for your thoughts, Young Master Damian?” Alfred asks as he pours the young master a cup of calming tea.

“Tt.My thoughts are not worth the penny.” Damian murmurs but quietly thank the older man when he places the cup of tea on the table and he furrowed his eyebrows, studying Pennyworth for a minute. “Pennyworth.”

Alfred merely looks at him, acknowledging him. “Yes, sir?”

“Other than father, you would be the next best person that knows Ummiwell, are you not?” Damian asks a tad bit haughtily. It does not sit well with him at the fact that he has to stoop this low to ask Pennyworth for help but Damian reckons that he is the lesser of the two evils - as opposed to Damian asking the rest of his brothers. “Mother’s Day is right around the corner.”

It is only due to his training that Alfred did not smile at the young master’s words immediately and he nods his head instead. He roughly knows what the young master is trying to say - after all, he had gone through the same thing with the rest of the young masters: things only happened the same way every other year. “Yes, perhaps I am.”

Damian nods his head, satisfied with his judgment and Alfred’s answer. “What would be the best gift for Ummi? One that Grayson, Todd and Drake have never given her at all.” He wonders if he can briefly consider stealing you away for some mother-son bonding but knowing the rest of his brothers, they will most likely end up crashing his time with you so Damian would rather not have that at all.

Alfred clears his throat as he begins to clear the table. “If I recall correctly, you are very well-versed in drawing, Young Master Damian. The mistress did mention briefly about how she has been wanting to update the family portrait. Perhaps that is something you can consider.” He offers and Damian stares at him for a few seconds before smirking, huffing proudly.

“Of course.”

Which is why for the next few days leaning towards Mother’s Day, you find yourself being tailed by none other than Damian Wayne. If you were any other woman, you probably would not have noticed because after all, Damian Wayne was trained as an Al Ghul first before he is a Wayne. Alas, you are you and you have had your fair shares of your sons tailing after you so you merely leave Damian be; if he had something he wanted to talk to you, you will let him come to you of his own accord. That is how things normally go when it comes to Damian.

You only found out what Damian had been up to during the scheduled dinner. To your surprise, Dick had managed to get almost everyone (with the exception of Cassie and Helena who were unfortunately off on a mission) to come for dinner to celebrate Mother’s Day, claiming that it was his present to you. “Thank you for being our Mom.” Dick informs you as he presses his lips on your temple and you smile at your son.

Jason rolls his eyes, annoyed over how he had played a part in helping Dick with his present. He hands over a bunch of wood figurines. “Made them for you; i’m not the best at it but I had time.” He mutters, almost shyly yet gruffly. You lift one of the figurines to study it and to your surprise, you see your husband staring back at you in his glorified batsuit.

“Jay, this is amazing! The details on the batsuit is down to the T.” You reach over to wrap an arm around Jason’s waist and he chuckles under his breath, trying to shrug off your compliment. “I love it, Jay. Thank you so much; you made everyone too, didn’t you?” You place the figurines back on the table and inspected the rest: true to your assumption, Jason had managed to perfectly carve everyone in the family, including Damian’s pets. Your cheeks are starting to hurt from the amount of smiling you are doing.

Tim slid a box over to you. “I cheated because I asked you what you wanted for Mother’s Day, Mom.” He tells you sheepishly and you shake your head at him, giggling at his words.

“I don’t mind, Timmy; you bought this for me. I will cherish it and wear it.” You open the box to see the necklace you had told him you had been eyeing for a while. Tim smiles at you, rubbing the back of his neck and you lean forward to give him a kiss on his forehead. “I love it, Tim.”

Tim grins at you and even helps you put on the necklace. “It really does look lovely on you, Mom.” He compliments and you smile at him.

“Tt.” Damian huffs before he stands up and makes a move to approach you. He hands over the tablet to you. “Your actual present is currently being put up as we speak but this is essentially what I am giving you.”

Your jaw drops as you stare at the tablet; a digital family portrait. “Darling, this is impressive!” You always thought you knew art but looking at Damian’s amazing drawing made you realize that you barely even knew art. The details on the drawing were on point and suddenly, it dawned on you that this was probably the reason why he had been tailing you the other day. “You said it is being put up?”

Damian smirks, proud that you seemed to enjoy his present a lot (definitely better than any of his brothers’ presents that is for sure). “Yes. I made a coloured version and have had it printed and framed. Pennyworth briefly mentioned that you have been wanting to get our family portrait updated and I have done it for you.” He states as a matter-of-factly and you place the tablet on the table before pulling your youngest son in your embrace, causing Damian to stiffen slightly - embarrassed because he cannot believe you are doing this to him right in front of his brothers - but when you did not make any move to release him, Damian relaxes in to your embrace. “Ummi, this is rather embarrassing.”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you press a kiss atop his head. Looking around, you catch Bruce’s eyes and the amount of you love you see in his eyes made you feel warm and almost touched. “Thank you so much, boys. I love each and every present; I love you. Thank you for letting me be your mom - I know I can never replace your real mothers but thank you for making me so happy and being my sons.”

“Tt.” Damian pulls his head back to stare at you pointedly. “As far as anyone of us is concerned, you are our mother and nothing will ever change that, Ummi.”

1K notes · View notes

sad-goomy · 4 years

Text

what is probably the first in a series of vignettes of older!lonashipping in Galar because self control? don’t know her :)

featuring appearances from Magnolia, Sonia, and Leon! no spoilers for SwSh

Gladion knows that Moon is relatively good friends with Galar’s Champion.

It doesn’t make it any less strange to see in person.

They decide to start their vacation in Wedgehurst, because Gladion is fascinated by the Dynamax research Professor Magnolia has done (and it’ll be his only work-related activity, he swears), and Moon is just excited to see Leon before he goes off to prepare for the battle season. Even a few days before the opening ceremony, he only has time to visit for tea on their third and final afternoon in Wedgehurst.

As Magnolia goes over her sensor’s most recent readings at various power spots, Gladion listening intently and making a few notes on his tablet, Moon sets up tea in the kitchen, brewing a pot and laying out the snacks that Sonia bought that morning. She has a small smile on her face as she hums a rhythmless tune, excitement radiating off her to the point that Gladion pauses, watching her for a minute with his own smile tugging up a corner of his lips.

“–and I’d go on but you’re a wee bit distracted.”

Gladion flinches, turning to see Professor Magnolia giving him a smirk, and he tries not to wilt sheepishly at being caught. “Sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize,” she says, waving off the very notion with a hand before she continues with a pleased hum, “It’s lovely to see. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were married.”

He pales, fumbling with the tablet in his hands as he tries not to drop it, clearing his throat. Magnolia’s eyes widen a fraction, and she’s quick to give his arm a pat as she shakes her head. “I don’t mean anything by it, dear. You two are still young, no need to worry yourselves over things like that.”

Too late, Gladion thinks to himself, because he knows that tucked away in his suitcase, buried under a pile of folded shirts, is a velvet ring box that he’s had for months now; he bought it the same day that Moon first brought up that she was thinking about marriage. They’ve since both agreed that they’d like to get married, and Gladion knows this, and he thinks about it constantly, and yet every time he thinks he’ll propose, he psyches himself out. He packed the ring for no real reason, considering he hasn’t exactly planned anything for a proposal during their trip, but even just a week in it has him on high alert, suddenly itching to drop to one knee despite the Butterfree still in his belly.

With a firmer grip on his tablet, and avoiding the professor’s eyes, he mumbles, “We’ve, uh, actually been talking about it. No set plans, though.”

“Well then I expect a wedding invite in the future – consider it payment for our little lessons.”

He chuckles, a faint blush on his cheeks as they go back to the readings, though it’s considerably harder for him to focus now with things like weddings, proposals, and Moon knocking around in his head.

It’s probably for the best, then, that they’re interrupted just a few minutes later by the door opening, Sonia’s Yamper yipping as he runs in, Sonia herself following behind as she declares, “Delivery for my favorite Champion.”

Leon’s figure fills the doorway, and Gladion realizes that while Moon has been around him at conferences, he’s never actually seen the Galar Champion in person. He cuts an intimidating figure, broad shoulders made all the broader by the fur on his cape, and the flame of the large Charizard still in the yard gives him a bit of a halo.

For a brief second, Gladion is impressed.

But then Leon’s face pulls into a pout, and his voice is pitched and petulant as he whines, “Aww, but Sonia...”

The young woman in question rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling all the same. “You’re a close second, if it’s any consolation.”

“You’re my second favorite Champion, too.”

Moon smirks at the two by the door, arms crossed. Leon’s grin grows as he throws open his arms, laughing, “C’mere you bully!”

She does, throwing her arms around him in a hug as the two mention how long it’s been since they’ve last spoken, how they’ve missed each other, and Gladion has to keep from snorting at the sight. Moon is 5’2” on a good day, and Leon’s got a solid foot on her, engulfing her in their hug.

Sonia goes to pull up another chair to the kitchen table, Magnolia walking over to take a seat as Gladion sets down his tablet and heads towards the pair. His footsteps draw Leon’s attention, who smiles at him as he extends a hand. “Gladion, right?”

He nods, shaking Leon’s hand as Moon steps to his side. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Same here – you're a proper legend at Battle Royals.”

Gladion blinks, more than a little surprised that the Galar Champion has even heard of Battle Royals, much less actually seen a match. Alola doesn’t broadcast them internationally, but when he looks to Moon to share his confusion, she’s instead sheepish.

“I may have forced him to watch all the matches I had recorded on my phone.”

“It was a lot,” Leon adds somberly, eyes lost in a memory before he blinks out of it, a fire in his eyes as he smirks. “She also tells me all about what you do at Aether, but if I’m being honest mate, I can’t make heads or tails of it. Sounds impressive, though.”

Moon laughs, and when Gladion looks down at her, she gives him a shrug and smile. “I brag about you a lot at those conferences, but it’s your fault for making it easy.”

And the way she says it, so simple and earnest and warm...Arceus, should he just go get the ring from his luggage right now?

Leon snaps him out of his thoughts, though, clenching a fist as his eyes ignite. “We have to organize a Battle Royal; I’ve been thinking up some strategies and–”

Magnolia clears her throat, drawing the trio’s attention to the table where she sits next to Sonia, who’s watching them with an amused twinkle in her eye and a cookie in her mouth. As the professor finishes pouring herself a cup of tea, pausing in adding a sugar cube to chide, “If you must battle, at least wait until after I’ve had my tea. Now sit before it gets cold.”

Leon deflates, but agrees with a sigh, Moon and Gladion chuckling as they follow behind him, careful not to trip over Sonia’s Yamper as the Pokemon dashes back outside, intent on playing with the Charizard still in the yard. As they fill their plates with cookies and fall into conversation, Gladion takes another moment to watch Moon, this time as she talks with Leon.

It’s a little strange to see her like this – he's so used to her being reserved, and she still is, but she’s also playfully punching Leon in the arm, a little extra dry in her humor. He sips his tea, hiding a smile when he realizes that the “bro energy” she likes to tease Sun and Hau for supposedly having hasn’t totally escaped her, and he now has a front row seat to it.

Next to him, Sonia chews on her cheek as she leans towards him, whispering conspiratorially, “Bit odd, isn’t it?”

“Like watching an unlikely interspecies friendship,” he agrees, and the two share a snicker, drawing the other three’s attention.

Moon hums, her right hand reaching out for his under the table, interlacing their fingers as she smirks. “What’s so funny?”

Gladion gives her a lopsided smile, squeezing her hand under the table. “You are.”

“I’m downright hilarious, but how so this time?”

“You have a funny face.”

“Then why do you enjoy looking at it so often?” Moon grins as he rolls his eyes with a chuckle, but when she opens her mouth to continue, she pauses, seeming to remember they’re very much not alone and glancing at Leon out of the corner of the eye.

Who only smiles, far too confident as he asks, “So how long have you two been married, anyway?”

To which Gladion pales, Moon splutters as she pretends to find her tea incredibly interesting, and Sonia very nearly throws a napkin at the Galar Champion before steering the conversation towards the upcoming battle season.

And so they go on with their tea, Gladion and Moon’s hands remaining linked under the table as they listen to Leon retell his latest battle with Raihan, Sonia interjecting with a few cracks at him as the others laugh. As the last of the day’s sunshine filters in through the windows, a pleasant tranquility settles in the kitchen, one that not even Leon’s gesticulating can pierce.

It’s quite a surprise, then, when Sonia glances over at the clock and realizes over two hours have passed. She looks across the table at Leon, raising a brow as she says, “This has been a lovely little chin-wag, but don’t you have a dinner to get to?”

“Ah, nearly forgot,” he mumbles, his chair scraping against the floor as he stands with wide eyes, “Thanks Sonia.”

Hop and his friends are probably still preoccupied with their starters, but he did promise his mother that he’d be home in time for dinner. Still, he looks a bit crestfallen when he glances back down at Moon and Gladion, feeling like he hasn’t nearly had enough time to catch up with the Alola Champion, and he’s only scratched the surface of the Aether President’s cool exterior.

Sonia stands, mumbling something about having to lead him back or else he’d end up wandering in Slumbering Weald as her grandmother nods. Moon and Gladion follow suit, preparing their goodbyes when an idea smacks Leon across the forehead, his eyes lighting up as he looks around the table. “Say, why don’t you all join us?”

The others pause, Gladion and Moon exchanging a look before she mumbles, trying to contain her excitement, “Are you sure?”

“No doubt my mum’s gonna grill up too much food anyway, and Hop and his mates would lose their minds to meet another Champion and Battle Royal ace.” He nods, giving Magnolia and Sonia a grin as he adds, “You know you’re always welcome, too.”

Magnolia hums, standing and retrieving her cane from where it leans against the table. ��Since you asked so politely.”

Sonia smiles, looping an arm around Moon and Gladion as she pokes her head between them, turning to look up at the blond as she chuckles, “What do you say, Gladion? Fancy a chance to take field notes on the interspecies friendship we discovered?”

Moon rolls her eyes, and Gladion laughs softly, shaking his head. “Can’t pass that up.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Moon warns without a hint of acidity, giving their interlocked hands another squeeze as she teases him.

He smirks. “You think I’m cute?”

“Well do you think I am?”

Sonia gags. “You’re both disgustingly sweet, is what you are.” They all share a laugh as she brushes past them, clapping a hand on Leon’s shoulder as the two head out the door, leading the way up the path along with Yamper and Charizard.

As they walk towards Postwick, holding hands, Moon stops him for a moment, leaning up (and with a little help of him leaning down) to place a kiss against his cheek, whispering against his skin, “I think you’re very cute, by the way.”

And it takes every ounce of impulse control within Gladion to keep walking, and not turn around and get that ring out.

#lonashipping #mahinashipping #pokemon sumo #pokemon swsh #professor magnolia #pokemon sonia #champion leon #text #i caved and did it baby #this was a fun little break form other stuff #next one would be them watching the opening ceremony #also this is me spreading the short!moon agenda #I imagine even among the Champions she's super tiny #also the lona dorks are around 23-25 in this series #can i even call it that?#there's no real big plot #just having fun here lads #me while writing: what's a tasteful amount of british slang/dialect to insert #hopefully it's not egregious

37 notes · View notes

gojos-eyedrops · 4 years

Text

Second thoughts: The Fear of The Future and The Fear of Rejection

This pandemic has not been kind to me. Not because my life at home sucks, but because I've had enough free time to put things into perspective, work on my mental health, and make me consider things I had not considered up until now.

So, this is me putting into words all the troubling thoughts that had been circling inside my head since this whole lockdown began in March.

Having too much time has helped me see things I didn't

Things I knew from way back suddenly become relevant again

Getting used to a slow paced life and running all the time

The beginning of my second thoughts

“If I could turn back time before I decided to go into vet school, I'd give it a more thorough thought before choosing”

The flip of a coin and its repercussions

Will this matter in two weeks? Most likely.

The spiral leading to fear.

Having too much time helped me see thighs I didn’t.

Normally, the summer break and the Christmas holidays tend to be the right length. It's time enough for me to rest and to mentally prepare for what's to come. And not long enough for me to actually get bored.

It has been five months now. Time enough for me to run out of things to do, and I’m forced to slow down, and realize there isn’t any rush to do any of the things I have to do. It’s not like things are going somewhere else. Neither am I. Time slowed down.

Just like everyone else, I got enough time to explore the halls inside my head. The way they stretch and turn, covered in dust, and some of them haven’t seen the light in years. Dusting away the dirt some thoughts and memories have accumulated over the time, I’ve become aware of who I am and where I come from.

I’ve become aware. I’ve been staring in front of me, walking in a straight line, for so long, I’ve forgotten to look down at the map, or to even notice my surroundings. I've forgotten to see the whole picture up until now.

Things I knew from way back suddenly become relevant again

When I first started vet school, we were told about the misconceptions of what being a veterinarian really is. Being a career focused on medicine and healthcare, you cannot allow yourself to stop reading, to stop learning, to stop asking questions. Otherwise you’re left behind and become obsolete. Science keeps moving forward every day, and you have to constantly keep up with the pace. Always in a rush. Only those hungry for knowledge, always willing to learn will strive.

“That's fine by me,” I said back then.

Being such a demanding career, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise the statistics. That same day, we were taught about the suicide rates in veterinarians. One in ten commits suicide. A lot of this comes hand in hand with the fact that student debts are monstrous in the States. Something that, thankfully, isn’t that big of a problem down here. Student loans here aren’t as big. However, it’s still stressing to be a vet tech.

The statistics didn’t scare me as much back then. Nowadays, those numbers seem more threatening.

Getting used to a slow paced life and running all the time

Something I learned over the years is that wounds take time to heal. And there’s nothing to speed up that process. You have to clean the wound, and keep proper rest, avoid moving and making physical effort. If you forget to take care of the wound, stop cleaning it, it’ll get worse, hurt more and become infected. Mental health works the same way. You have to take it slow while you’re healing, you have to take care of it every day, and by ignoring it, it’ll only get worse.

Something I’m thankful for, is the sudden slowing down of life. We were constantly moving, always with something to do, a deadline to meet, places to go. We never really stopped, did we?

Not even when we are supposed to slow down we really slowed down. “Once we arrive at the hotel, let’s do this, and then this. Then let's go here, and by night lets go to this club”

However, the pandemic forced us to stay indoors, with nothing to do, nowhere to go, and we’re back at worrying about our most basic needs. When to eat, when to sleep, everything else is extra. The whole world slowed down for the first time in decades, if not, centuries.

This slowing down has allowed me to work in my mental health like I should have done a long time ago. My mental health has become my priority in the last months, as I’m constantly reading, journaling, meditating. Most of what I do when I don’t go to work is based on what feels best and what keeps my mind at ease.

I work at a vet clinic. I’m not formally working there, but I’m not going to stop and discuss the circumstances, let's just say I work there, as a student, I don't get paid, but I do get to learn first hand experience, something invaluable for someone in my position, since apparently everyone expects you to have plenty of experience by the time you graduate college and start applying for jobs.

I only go to the vet clinic once a week, sometimes two. Because of the pandemic and safety measures, we try to keep the number of people in there to the minimum, but without being deficient.

Something I've noticed is the more hands we have at our disposition, the more we’ll keep saturating ourselves and overworking.

Being a veterinarian is stressful and if you're doing your job right, you're going to be busy the whole time. You see, vet techs don't overwork and saturate themselves because they’re workaholics. The love for animals, and the desire to help as many animals as posible is the reason why we’re always running inside the clinic, from one place to the other, in a rush, never really slowing down. You sacrifice your lunch time to keep working, you stay overtime, leave late, sometimes you don’t even leave and you stay on duty, sometimes you leave but return an hour later because of an emergency, you even put up with owners’ attitude and/or insults and complaints. And even when you finally make it to your house, you arrive home and read about several topics, reading articles, studying, consulting colleagues about your questions and asking for suggestions and opinions. You never truly stop.

And once you see how it is from the inside, those suicide rates start making sense.

The beginning of my second thoughts

With a lot of free time at my disposal, I did what everyone else did. I started focusing on my hobbies. I began writing more than before, I began drawing a lot more than before. I even grabbed my old dusty drawing tablet and decided to give digital drawing another chance.

I can’t even remember how many times I tried to properly learn how to draw digitally. But for whatever reason I always ended up by giving up and staying comfortable in tradicional drawing. You see, drawing on paper and on a tablet are two very different things. Let alone coloring.

This time, however, I was successful. I bought a new drawing tablet and became good friends with it soon after.

My creative mind was fascinated. The characters I was constantly creating with lives and thoughts of their own could only be seen by others through my words. However, my new found talent allowed me to project my characters, and allow other people see exactly what I see.

It was during this time that one of my closest friends asked me about it. He complimented me on my drawing skills, very much to my distorted perception of my own talents. The conversation soon grew deep and enlightening and touching. He asked me what I thought of giving animation a chance. And I'd be lying if I said I hadn’t considered it before. Time flows at an unreasonable fast speed once I begin drawing, and I easily forget about everything else when I’m at it. And since I like to write too, giving animation a chance would only seem right.

“I'm scared” I told him. To which he asked me what was I afraid of. And I answered: “I’m afraid I’ll end up liking animation more than vet medicine”. A series of questions followed after, and so, a door in my mind opened, and I haven’t been able to close it.

In the end, it turned out I was afraid of disappointment.

I’m lucky and immensely grateful to be surrounded by people who have faith in me, who constantly cheer me to keep going. Many people expect me to and wish that I come through, following the path I’d laid out for me. Friends, family, even the doctors I work with. Everyone is expecting great things from me. It's so satisfying and encouraging to see, but at the same time, it puts a weight on my shoulders, and makes me set higher standards than I would if I didn’t receive this much support.

Now, imagine letting all those people down.

You see, I’ve had a pretty constant life plan laid out before my eyes. Graduate in a year, work for a little while, save money, move to another city and do a postgrad. Afterwards, move yet to another city, and specialize in cardiology. A few dates and places had been considered over these last years, but my ultimate goal has stayed the same: become a cardiologist. The heart is my favourite organ, and it has been since I first learned about its anatomy and physiology in high school. Cardiology is what I want, or what I think I want. Those closest to me know this. And everyone who does, supports my decision and is cheering on me. It’s a great feeling, really.

“If I could turn back time before I decided to go into vet school, I'd give it a more thorough thought before choosing”

I told that pretty recently to a friend.

Back in high school, one step away from deciding what is it that I want to do, I was torn between studying biology or vet medicine. In the end, I decided to let fate decide for me. Whichever career released their application form first. And we know which one of the two was the first one to do so.

I don’t regret choosing from a flip of a coin. I’ve enjoyed vet school so much, and I genuinely believe it has been worth every bit of it. I don't regret, in the slightest, getting into Vet School, however, if I could talk to high school me, I’d tell her to give it a more thorough thought before choosing. Now that I’ve seen it from the inside, I can tell it’s not an easy decision to make.

The flip of a coin and its repercussions

Anyone who knows me can tell how wildly passionate I’m about vet medicine. How I’m always eager to learn, and I’m constantly reading about things. I love sharing these things with other people as well. Clearly, I don’t regret getting into vet school.

However, how much am I willing to put up with everything that implies being a vet? What it really takes?

This quarantine, my mental health has become my priority, considering how easy it is for me to trip and fall into a spiral. I have to be constantly taking care of it. So, at what point does prioritizing my mental health meet prioritizing my job?

In April I talked with a friend about what it was that I really wanted. And I began questioning myself, as well as my dreams. What I thought was my ultimate goal began getting blurry.

In June, I decided to take a small break from my everyday life, and went to the woods. And as much as I love escaping to the woods for a little while and breathe some fresh air, this time, I didn’t feel like I got any rest at all. As I was haunted by exactly the one thing I was trying to run away from.

Being in a constant “veterinarian mode” is tiresome. Always thinking of problems, solutions, questions, always being asked about these things, even when you’re not at work and are trying to rest. Even when I had planned to go into the forest to forget about my “vet tech life” for a little while, the vet tech life found me and haunted me. I didn’t get any rest at all.

At what point this mentality becomes detrimental to my own health? Anyone who’s keeping up with it all has my absolute respect. Anyone in the health care area, not just veterinarians.

I am starting to question whether I'll be able to keep up with this rhythm for the rest of my life. It's too fast. And now that I've gotten a taste of a slower paced life, I'm not sure I want to go back to the race.

You see, many people no longer see a person when they look at me. They see my profession. And it’s not bad, to some degree I like it, being called a doctor feels nice.

But sometimes I wish people forgot about my profession and asked me about what is it that I like, my hobbies, what books I've read. Instead of always asking me stuff about my job and questions they have about pets and animals in general. If I meet someone, we'll be talking of random things, but as soon as I mention I'm a vet tech, the conversation becomes focused on my career. I’m a human being first, you know?

Will this matter in two weeks? Most likely.

Whenever I feel like my anxiety is spiraling out of control, I manage to get a hold of it, and of the situation by asking myself: will this matter in two weeks? For the most part, the answer is no. And it's in that moment that I realize how many of the things that overwhelm me are for the most part, momentarily.

However, this train of thought has been circling inside my head ever since April. Whenever I feel the anxiety closing in around me, and I ask myself if this will matter in two weeks, I answer myself no. Only to be proven wrong. This continues to matter, it has been for the last months.

And the worst of it all, the more I think about it, the more it scares me, and every time I do, the anxiety drowns me at a faster speed.

Will this matter in two weeks? Most likely.

The spiral leading to fear.

I’ve come such a long way. And there’s still a long way ahead of me. However, I’ve been staring straight in front of me for so long, I’ve forgotten to look at the map or my surroundings. And now that I’ve done so, I realise the beautiful landscape that surrounds me. Countless paths stretching before my eyes, all twisting and taking different turns, and I wish to explore them all.

However, everyone talks of what I’ll find at the end of the path I chose to walk. This path will continue to get harder and harder, with countless obstacles in the future. But then again, all paths do. How much am I willing to sacrifice? How much weight am I willing to carry on my shoulders? It scares me.

By this point, I’m scared to ask if I made the right choice. What if I didn’t? Even asking myself that makes my eyes teary and makes a lump grow in my throat.

I guess you can say the answer is pretty obvious by now. But it is not.

I’ll put it in simple words: I wish to be a vet tech, but without having to be one 24/7, but that's not how it works.

It’s easy to take the leap when you’ve got nothing to lose. But the more there is at stake, the bigger the jump. The tower becomes taller, outgrowing your courage. And the more I approach the edge, the more scared I feel.

I am lost. And I am scared. But I am not scared because I’m lost. I guess being lost isn’t as bad, since, in order to find new places, one must get lost first. I’m scared because of everything I’ve said before. Despite life slowing down, and despite this year feeling so unbearably slow, many things have changed, so fast. I never thought I’d find myself questioning my future in just the span of a few months. I hadn't thought this much about my future since high school, when I had to choose a university and a career.

I'm still lost though, and out of balance. However, only time and working on myself will help.

I’ve still got a year left of school before graduating, and ultimately deciding what is it what I’m gonna do. And I’m willing to give this last year the benefit of the doubt, since so much has happened in just a few months, who knows what’s gonna happen the following year starting on monday.

I wish for the following year to be gentle with me. However, the best lessons come from the roughest times.

In the meantime, I'll watching life unfold before me, and see how things fall into place. I'll continue to feel scared about the uncertain future hoping for the best.

#personal #rant #and as someone who has had suicidal thoughts back in middle school and first year if high school I think its safer for me to take it easy #and not putting myself in a situation that might unchain these thoughts again #or maybe I'm looking for excused which is still valid #i have to be honest with myself but I'm not ready to face it #i don't even know who I am anymore

1 note · View note

spnfanficpond · 5 years

Text

September 2019 Pond LiveChat Recap

We had a great time chatting with @manawhaat today! Thank you so much for joining us, even though you were busy!!

Today, a bunch of us got together and talked about inspiration and writer’s block! We all had good ideas that were discussed! A rundown of the chat, as well as general Pond news, is below the cut!

To start us off, Mana shared a link to this ask that was recently presented to the Pond. The question was that a professor said that there was no such thing as a muse or writer’s block. The answers given by some of our Big Fish are terrific! All seem to agree that the ideas of a muse and writer’s block are valid, no matter what you call them. Digging beneath the surface to ask what is causing the writer’s block or the inspiration can help to get you past what’s stopping you and get you writing, again.

@mrswhozeewhatsis (Michelle)shared a link to a tweet by Robbie Thompson. She had asked him for tips on getting inspired or getting past blocks when the words just don’t want to flow. He responded by saying, “write from emotion: what scares you, angers you, etc. and make writing a habit. sit down once a day, same time if you can & just get to work. got nothing? write until it comes. inspiration is great but not always reliable.”

When looking for ideas from other famously prolific writers, this post from Neil Gaiman came up. In it, Mr. Gaiman says that blaming writer’s block gives you something to blame, but it’s usually a combination of laziness, perfectionism and getting stuck. He goes on to encourage writers to not accept writer’s block as a insurmountable thing and figure out the cause so you can get past it.

@mostly-shawn (Maayan): My professor's take on writer's block is that writer's block doesn't exist because there's no such thing as "not knowing". What we call "writer's block" is simply being distracted by other things like shopping lists and to-do lists and everything else, so in order to overcome "writer's block" you just need to sit and write everything that's in your head and clear out your brain space to allow yourself access to the idea. And in terms of muse, she doesn't believe in muse because no work is perfect on the first draft and because it's not perfect, you can't have had a muse.

If anyone wants to read her book it's called "To Tell The Truth" and it's about how to write creative nonfiction. Obviously, that's not what we're all in the business of, but it's a good read for all genres.

Everyone seemed to agree that this professor has a strange view on muse, but she’s got a point about writer’s block. A muse can be anything that inspires you to write, and nothing anyone ever writes is perfect right out of the gate, so her perfection theory makes no sense to us. Mana disagreed with part of her thoughts on writer’s block, though.

Mana: I think she has a point of clearing your head in order to get into your 'writing groove' but insisting that there isn't such a thing as 'not knowing' sounds ridiculous to me, specifically, a person who has not known what she wanted to do with a certain rpf fic for over 4 years.

@katehuntington mentioned that sometimes she feels like she knows exactly what she wants to write, but when she sits down, the words just won’t come. She can’t get them down. Michelle said her Fibromyalgia sometimes causes similar cognitive difficulties. The words just aren’t there. (If anyone has read Rob Benedict’s chapter in Family Don’t End With Blood, the feeling is described there beautifully.)

Michelle: Physical and mental issues can definitely affect creativity. When you're struggling to do the basic activities of daily living, creativity is not your body's priority.

Q: So, what do you guys do when you hit a block?

Kate: Accept it. LOL. I take a lot of inspiration out of what I've written already, if that makes sense. I revisit stories, go over what made those work. And I read back on the feedback I had from readers too. Those can be super inspiring.

Maayan: Yeah, I basically just say "alrighty then" and continue on with my life and push the work as far out of my head as possible.

Mana: Write some flaming garbage. (Michelle added, “Crap makes good compost.”) I get through as much as I can, plot wise. if I'm stuck between point b and c, but know where I'm going from point d to e then I just put down anything I might want to happen between point b and c and then move on. There is no rule that says writing needs to happen in a linear form so if I get stuck, I move on.

Michelle: I once heard Robbie Thompson talk about writing at a seminar, and he said that if he's really stuck, he'll take a walk, get outside, get some fresh air, clear his head. Just change his scenery, really. Did you know that when you move from one room to another, your brain kind of ties off the thought you had in the first room and opens up another thread in the second room? It's why so many people arrive in a room and then forget why they're there. (This is why carrying something from one room to the next can help you remember why you're in that second room.) Sometimes, that's what you need. Make your brain jump out of the rut it was in. Write in a different room, on a different medium (paper instead of tablet, tablet instead of computer, etc)

Mana: I haven't tried writing on a different medium, unless you count someone else's computer instead of your own, but the change of scenery does help. listening to different music instead of your usual tunes helps.

Maayan: I think better when I pace so when if I'm trying to figure out a storyline I pace, but when I have the storyline but I can't make my fingers do the word thing on the magical typing box I'm just stuck for good usually. (A suggestion was made that she could try speech-to-text software to help her get past that!) Mana records voice notes to her phone to be transcribed later.

Kate and Michelle both said that having ideas isn’t the problem for them, most of the time. The problem is usually having the focus to sit down and translate them to paper.

Mana: Watching a movie you know well enough to tune in and out of is a big one for me. Literally any time I NEED to do something in my life, I put on Pride and Prejudice bc I know the film so well and love the score, but it's my ultimate focus movie. I can tune out and write or file taxes or whatever the fuck and tune back in for him to hold her hand helping her in the carriage and then tune back out and repeat this process while the movie plays 6 times in a row.

Michelle: I can't have anything else playing. No music, no TV, no nothing. However, I've discovered that a lava lamp does wonders! When we lived in our apartment in Chicago, I had a great view of the planes coming into O'Hare, and it was an east-facing view, so I saw the sunrise after a long night of writing so many times. My creativity dropped way down when we moved and I no longer had a view to stare at. So, I bought a glitter lava lamp. I love staring into that thing. And then I put up twinkling fairy lights over my desk. Something about that got me going, again.

Maayan: I use my fish and snail as a lava lamp with the same effect.

Q: What do you do when you’re in the flow, and everything is going great, but you suddenly just stop? You know where you want to go, but you’re suddenly just stuck for no clear reason?

Michelle: I've discovered, and this may not be true for anyone else, but I've discovered that it usually means I've screwed up a little ways back. If I go back to where I last felt like everything was going well, and rethink everything I wrote since then, I've usually made a mistake in that section, and it needs to be rewritten. Whether I've made a character do something that's not in their character, or I've added something (or taken something away) that isn't right, whatever it is, it's in that section. If I just delete it and start writing from the previous good spot, I get going again.

Kate: Yeah. I've read somewhere that when you're stuck, you should go back at least 5 lines and start over. Put those lines away, pick it up again.

Mana: I think that's a big difference between us, Michelle. You can pinpoint a spot where things go awry and back up, cut off what isn't working and restart. I am a stubborn bitch so even if I see that something isn't really working, if I like it even the slightest bit, I refuse to get rid of it or change it. And those are the instances where I 'pick fights' with you and resist your input when you're beta reading for me. Am I the only one that does that? And if so, how are you all able to justify letting go of something that doesn't quite work but you've grown attached to?

Michelle: It’s perfectly okay to set bits aside and use them in other fics! Timestamps. Put it in another fic. Make it a one shot! I cut SO MUCH from Non-Trad, but I loved those parts SO MUCH, and that's how the Timestamps were born. They really didn't fit into the story well. They made it bloated. So I published them separately. Now, finding that I've gone off the rails entirely makes it easier for me to go back and get rid of something.

Q: Tips that we haven’t mentioned, yet?

Kate: Ask for help. Have a beta look it over, or whoever is interested and might be able to add to it.

Michelle: When looking for inspiration, always go back to the source material. It's not lazily, obsessively binge-watching the same show over and over, it's RESEARCH.

Mana: Someone asked what I do to get over it and I said: when I experience writer’s block or when the character I’m trying to write isn’t cooperating with me and I can’t get my brain to function I try to distract myself with something else or another character. Try watching an episode with your character in it, get a refreshed feel of how they move, talk, interact with other characters, draw from the episode or scenarios that you can fill in where the ep didn’t. Or, take ques from other characters, write about someone else for a bit so your mind has a break and time to sort itself out, then go back to what you were working on.

Another way to get past it is to read other’s work. It may inspire you, make you realize that the story you wanted to tell this way can be told a different way, or give you the kick you need.

My best answer to this: “If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

When the block hits and you have zero inspiration or motivation, write about anything and everything. Start reading and watching new things to see if it’ll spark something, check out Tumblr and users you don’t follow to get your eyes on some fresh content, write a dramatic scene of you sitting on the couch to hear the doorbell ring and let the suspense grow until you open it to find a pizza man there when you specifically did not order a pizza. Writing through it may spark something, and if not, my best suggestion would be to read. Read your old stuff and that of others, read a new book, read an article on how to beat writer’s block, read through the writer resources tag at the @spnfanficpond…

Mana also gifted us with these lovely links:

Writer’s block app that won’t let you do anything else until you’ve reached your goal.

A lovely gif beautifully encapsulating exactly how writer’s block feels.

General Pond Updates and Reminders

What we’ve got cooking up next: Not much, at the moment, since everyone is busy, so we’re just trying to keep up with the day-to-day at the moment! Our to do list is still long, though, and will not be neglected forever!

Reminders:

Angel Fish Award nominations are accepted all month long! No need to wait to tell us how much you liked a fellow Fish’s work! IF YOU HAVE SENT IN A NOMINATION, BUT HAVE NOT RECEIVED A PRIVATE MESSAGE CONFIRMING WE RECEIVED IT, WE DIDN’T GET IT. Be sure to use Submit instead of Ask!

Don’t forget to submit your stories to be posted to the blog! When your stories are on the blog, then they are easier to nominate for Angel Fish Awards!

SPNFanFicPond Season 14 Weekly Episode Challenge - Even though season 15 is just around the corner, these prompts will still always be open for you to use! Remember, there’s no deadline for submissions! Just tag the Pond and @mrswhozeewhatsis in your post!

Say hi to August’s New Members!

Check the Pond CALENDAR to see when Big Fish will be in the Skype chat room/discord general channel and other Pond and SPN events are happening! Know of something that’s not on the calendar, send us an ask or submission with the deets info details! The calendar offers a lot of features, such as showing you when things are in your own timezone! Since we’re an international group, that’s a definite plus!!

We don’t have a topic or speaker set up for October’s event, yet, so if there’s something you want to talk about, or someone you want to talk to, LET US KNOW!

#spnfanficpond live chat #chat room #let's chat #pond chat #THE CHAT ROOM #chat recap

10 notes · View notes

yrpspiritsintheshadows · 5 years

Text

Para-Normal

“Don’t forget, we have dinner at my mom’s tonight.” Carmen reminded as Eiji hurried by her, getting ready for work.

“Mm-hm.”

“And we’re bringing the cider I bought.”

“Mm-hm.” Eiji looked through his bag to be sure he had all of his notes and lesson plan ready. Had he remembered to grade those papers? No, he definitely had. He walked by Ken, who was trying to eat as slowly as possible. “Finish your breakfast please, I gotta get you to school too.”

Okami whined, laying next to Ken’s seat, looking up longingly at his plate, watching each bite the young boy took.

Ken took a deliberately slow bite, keeping his eyes locked with his father’s, mischief dancing in them.

EIji reached over, swiping a piece of the pancake off his plate.

“Hey!”

“C’mon, kiddo, finish your food so we can get a move on.”

Ken quickly finished his food before getting up, hurrying to grab his backpack.

“By the way, Eiji?”

“Mm-hm?”

Carmen walked up to him, tying his tie for him quickly, giving him an amused look.

“Now you can go, Mm-hm.”

He grinned sheepishly, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek. He touched his forehead to hers as he gazed into her eyes.

“I love you. Sorry I’m so scatterbrained this morning.”

“I forgive you and love you too. Now, go. You too, mister.”

Ken rushed up to her as she knelt down for a quick hug.

“I love you, Mommy!”

“I love you too. Now, be good.”

“Si!”

With a wave, both father and son were out. Ken reached up at the banister to the porch stairs, trying to heave himself onto it. Eiji lifted him up without effort, hurrying to the car.

“No.”

“Uncle Chase said I got good balance.”

“Uncle Chase also still free runs to work… but I won’t deny you do. Just don’t want you doing dangerous stuff.”

The mornings were almost always like this. Hurrying because of one reason or another… or staying up way too late in the case for Eiji.

“So, how’d you sleep, huh?”

Ken didn’t answer him at first, staring out the window at the scenery that passed them. His eyes fixed on something else.

“... I had nightmares.” He finally said after about five minutes.

Eiji frowned.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Ken shook his head.

“No thank you.”

Ken had nightmares, unfortunately, rather frequently. Not as often as when he was much younger but when they happened, they were pretty bad.

They always left the boy with an odd feeling. Like things were going to change or that something was going to happen.

“You sure?”

“I'm okay, really.”

“You got a weird feeling?”

“.. Yes.”

“Promise me you’ll tell me if that gets worse, okay?”

Ken nodded, perking up as they pulled into his school. Eiji reached over, ruffling his hair.

“Now, have a good day at school. Give ‘em Hell.”

“I will! Love you!” Ken grinned before running off to go meet up with his friends.

Eiji watched him for a moment before sighing, grabbing his phone to text his wife.

“Be careful. Ken has one of his feelings again.”

oooooo

Eiji paced across his classroom, reading from the book in his hands aloud as his students listened with rapt attention.

“There are places you can go.” Ariana tells him, “and a guy like you has a decent chance of surviving to eighteen.” He read off, glancing up to be sure his students were paying attention. He noted one sneaking a glance at her phone and loudly cleared his throat, gaining their attention. He gave a stern look. “Let’s not interrupt class now, hm? Please show me the same respect you give your internet friends.”

“Y-Yes, Mr. Miyamoto.” She tucked the phone away, giving a sheepish look.

Eiji smiled, giving a nod as he turned back to the book. Being an English teacher lead to some liberties of how he could run his class… and in this case, the class book was one near and dear to his heart.

He knew he had some reluctant readers in his class. He couldn’t blame them. Some of the books they had to read in their previous years were ones he hadn’t been interested in either as a teen. So, he wanted to go for something that would be more fun.

He was still firm but this was just part of routine.

At least he didn’t have Chase’s class, he figured, fighting down a smirk.

“Eiji, kill me. They want me to teach them parkour. They know what I do in my off time.”

“I thought you wanted to be the “cool” teacher.”

“What am I supposed to do with that though!?”

“Tell ‘em if your teacher was gonna jump off a building, would you do it too?”

“... I swear sometimes I want to just smack you.”

“Ahuh. You got leaves in your hair. Again.”

“DANGIT!”

Chase was an intelligent man. There was a reason he was their go to for info on haunted locations in their town and the towns nearby, but he had his quirks. They all did.

It just seemed like a stroke of luck that he wound up working in the same school, a room over from one of his closest friends.

With that thought in mind, Eiji kept on with his class until the lesson was ending for the day. He glanced at the clock briefly, lowering his reading glasses.

“Alright, I want you guys to read chapters ten to fifteen tonight and then tomorrow we will go over it and see how far along we can get. That’s all the homework I’m giving you guys this time.” He turned to put his book away, glancing up once more. “Also, I will know if you guys decide to not read and try to bullcrap your way out of it. Okay?”

“Yes sir!”

“Atta kids.”

The bell rang as his students started to get up. He held up a hand.

“One more thing.” He gave a gentle smile. “If you guys ever need to talk about anything, to an impartial ear or just need someone to vent to, don’t hesitate to come find me, any time during the school day or after. Okay?”

“Yes, Mr. Miyamoto!”

“Thanks, Teach!”

“Hey, do you think Connor’s gonna make it?”

Eiji chuckled.

“Well, read and find out. Be safe now.”

They all started to head out but one boy slowed to a stop. A young man of about fourteen, with long shaggy black hair tied back into a ponytail. He looked back at Eiji, his eyes having a sad look to him.

Eiji frowned.

“Something wrong, Hideki?”

“Um... “ Hideki had something cross his gaze Eiji couldn’t quite make out before shaking his head, forcing a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Nothing. See you.”

“You sure? I got time.”

“N-Nah. It’s stupid.”

“Hideki-”

The boy was gone in the crowd seconds later. Eiji sighed heavily, hoping he would be alright.

He sighed again, packing up his things.

He would open up to him in time, he hoped.

“Pssst.”

“Hm?”

“Eiji-boy. Over here.”

He looked over to see a man his age, with curly blond hair, leaning in the doorway. His hazel eyes danced with mischief.

“Hey, Chase.” Eiji chuckled. “How’d class go?”

Chase sighed.

“The usual. “Mr. Armati, can we learn Parkour?” before class. I should’ve been a gym teacher.”

“Naaah. So, what else?” He raised an eyebrow with a grin. “I was just about to check the site.”

“Way ahead of you.” Chase pulled his tablet out from behind his back, closing the classroom door behind him. “We got a call from this woman who keeps having all kinds of crap happen.”

Eiji took a look over Chase’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the letter written.

“Dear Mr. Miyamoto,

I’m not sure where else to turn. My family has been under attack for the past year and I can't take it anymore. I live at home with my husband, our two cats and our four year old son.

We’ve heard our names called, things have been moved, I’m seeing shadows out of the corner of my eye and my son keeps drawing these strange things… He’s starting to sleepwalk too.

I don’t know who else to turn to. Please, help us.”

Eiji let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That cannot be easy.”

“Yeah, given you know what it’s like to have a kid influenced by this stuff.”

Heck, I know what it’s like to be the kid affected…

“Lemme at that.” Eiji swiped the tablet, typing a response. “Long as I don’t have to bail on Carmen tonight.”

“Family thing?”

“Visiting her mom since Ken hasn’t seen his grandma in a few weeks. We’ve just been so busy.” Eiji shrugged, sighing a bit as he read over the letter again. “You know the drill, start getting info about the place as soon as we can interview her. Given this sounds a bit more active than the last one, get EVERYONE on board with this.”

Chase gave him a good natured grin.

“You know I’m good for it, Eiji. We’ve been the P.A.C.K. since high school.”

Eiji grinned.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

oooooo

Ken was having a grand old time, playing on the jungle gym in his school yard. He was waiting for Eiji, one of the teacher aides standing watch nearby.

Whenever their back was turned however, he would get a bit sneakier.

He was alone… for the most part. Ken dusted off his hands before taking a glance to the teacher aide’s direction. She was distracted, giving the child a moment.

“Alright, gimme a boost.” He whispered, the person beside him cupping their hands to give the boy a boost.

He grinned, giving the figure a thumbs up as he climbed to the top of the jungle gym, arms out wide to balance.

It wasn’t at home. He wasn’t breaking any rules.

“Careful, Kenny!”

Ken gave a thumbs up to the child who helped him. Someone his age who the teacher didn’t seem to notice.

“I am!” He giggled. “Watch this!”

Ken took another look around before grabbing onto the bars of the jungle gym and maneuvering until he was doing a handstand. The child below him clapped, laughing a little.

“Thank you, thank you!” He laughed before going back to being upright. He wanted to do more tricks but he also knew there was stuff Chase hadn’t shown him yet.

And the last thing he wanted was to get caught doing something dangerous and get caught by Eiji… or the teacher’s aide. He took another look. He noted her head was down, looking at her phone, giving him more time to run around.

“Just a little bit more…”

“You can do it, Ken!”

The bars were cool in his hands as he shimmied and maneuvered, trying to get higher up. His companion watching him with glee.

“Thank you, thank you!”

“KEN! Your father’s here!”

Ken looked over to see Eiji waiting beside the teacher’s aide, waving to him.

“DADDY!”

Ken hurried down, rushing up to him. Eiji knelt down, arms outstretched as his child ran into his arms.

Eiji scooped him up with ease.

“Hey you! Been a good boy?”

“Mm-hm! Been a good teacher?” Ken giggled as his dad ruffled up his hair. “Hey!”

“Been doing my best. Ready to go get some food?”

“Ahuh!”

They bid the teacher’s aide farewell as Eiji lead him off. He glanced back as Ken kept his gaze fixed on the jungle gym.

“What’s wrong buddy?”

“Just hope my friend doesn’t mind me leavin.”

Eiji took note there wasn’t anyone there that he could see. He ruffled Ken’s hair, giving him a gentle look.

“I’m sure they won’t mind at all. I know a little thing or two about friends like that.”

Ken smiled a little.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. Now, your grandma’s been texting your mom all day about how she can’t wait to see you and how grandpa can’t wait to work on your guys’ little project.”

Ken’s eyes lit up.

“The Lego Death Star?”

“Darn right.”

“YAY!!!!”

Eiji chuckled, making sure Ken got settled before starting the car. He started to pull out, driving past the playground.

He didn’t miss the fact a swing was moving by itself, despite the lack of wind.

The drive was quiet, for the most part. Eiji glanced behind him in the rearview mirror at Ken.

The boy’s eyes were locked on the scenery, his face nervous. The boy fiddled with his jacket, trying to bring it around him more.

“You cold?”

“M’fine…”

Eiji shrugged, focusing on the road. He wouldn’t deny, he wasn’t feeling right either. He had drove down this same path dozens of times. It wasn’t like he was visiting a house he had never been to before.

“Ken?” He spoke up, startling the boy as he jumped a little.

“Y-Yeah?”

Eiji was about to ask him about his nightmare, when the boy’s head turned, focusing on the road through the windshield. Ken’s eyes widened as he leaned forward.

There was some kind of animal in the center of the road. It looked like a hyena… If hyenas were made of dripping ooze and had eerie whites for eyes. It was chewing at something before looking up at the boy.

Ken shuddered.

“Daddy… Daddy don’t keep driving forward. Go around it.”

“Go around what, Ken?” Eiji narrowed his eyes. “What are you looking at?”

Ken reached a shaking hand out.

“The bad thing from my nightmare.”

That sentence alone made Eiji take a sharp turn as Ken watched the creature through the windows until they were around it completely, speeding ahead a little.

Ken heaved a sigh of relief, leaning back in his seat.

“We’re okay now buddy?”

“I think so…”

Ken looked back, swallowing hard as he saw the creature wasn’t in the road anymore. It was just gone.

“I think so…” He shook his head, trying to put it out of his mind for a bit. “When is everyone coming over again?”

“Tomorrow. We gotta get ready for meeting with a client. So, it’ll be your Uncle Lucian, Auntie Skyler and Uncle Chase.”

“Yay! Wolf Pack!”

Eiji smirked.

“You know it kiddo.”

Just… wish I could still see what you see, Son.

5 notes · View notes

lashydsdomain · 5 years

Note

1-154. you wont

bitch

bet i will

1: Full name

lashy. das all you get

2: Age

3: 3 Fears

stairs, glass breaking, not being able to get ahold of someone

4: 3 things I love

my ocs uwu, my friends, my fucking tablet goddamn

5: 4 turns on

not comfy sharing on tumblr

6: 4 turns off

ill say ill come back to this one then leave this in the post

7: My best friend

rn i would say it’s probably blitztrolls

8: Sexual orientation

pan uwu

9: My best first date

ahh.... i havent had an in person first date still ;u;

10: How tall am I

5′5″

11: What do I miss

not being stressed eue;;;

12: What time were I born

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

13: Favourite color

pale blu

14: Do I have a crush

ye u//w//u

15: Favourite quote

you know these things are asked and my mind goes blank

16: Favourite place

the woods just after it’s rained

17: Favourite food

im a basic bitch and just gonna say mac n cheese

18: Do I use sarcasm

no absolutely not. nope.

19: What am I listening to right now

ambles playlist- it’s on ocean eyes by billie elish rn

20: First thing I notice in new person

prooooobably like. their face? typing style if it’s online

21: Shoe size

uhhhhhh i think like a womens 10?

22: Eye color

blue/green

23: Hair color

dark brown

24: Favourite style of clothing

loose and baggy because if i cant be comfortable what’s the point

25: Ever done a prank call?

HELL YEAH

27: Meaning behind my URL

lashyd was one of my first fantrolls and i liked the way it sounded

28: Favourite movie

mmmmm either labyrinth, princess mononoke or annihilation

29: Favourite song

no clue my friend im bad at picking

30: Favourite band

same as above sweats

31: How I feel right now

excited but tired

32: Someone I love

passivetrolls u//w//u/

33: My current relationship status

in a relationship!

34: My relationship with my parents

love my dad, kinda dislike my mom

35: Favourite holiday

christ mass

36: Tattoos and piercing i have

none, im so scared of needles ;u;

37: Tattoos and piercing i want

mmmmmaybe something stupid and simple on like my ankle?? i dunno what tho sweats

38: The reason I joined Tumblr

another fandom and i got bored with homeschooling lmao

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?

i dislike them but they have tried to contact me a few times before i blocked them

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

not usually

41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?

i dont text so ill go w discord and no i have not the last person i messaged was you shenk gdi

42: When did I last hold hands?

the 2nd ;u;

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?

7ish minutes

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days?

hellllllllllll no

45: Where am I right now?

room

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?

prooooobably my bf or my dad. hate alcohol tho

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

loud but only w speakers

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

only da

49: Am I excited for anything?

absolutely motherfucker im making new friends left and right

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

i got two uwu

51: How often do I wear a fake smile?

:))))))) irl most of the time tbh

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?

last night

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?

i would probably cry ugnfldkjfgslfdjg the last person i kissed was my bf wheezes

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?

i mean probably.

55: What is something I disliked about today?

ehhhh nothing bad has really happened today

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

probably my friend from serbia uwu

57: What do I think about most?

ocs probably sweats

58: What’s my strangest talent?

burping on command? i dunno

59: Do I have any strange phobias?

glass shattering ouo;;;

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

beh ind

61: What was the last lie I told?

calling myself a basic bitch lmao

62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

phone probably? video calls make me nervous

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

hell yeah to both

64: Do I believe in magic?

hell yeah i yell tossing salt on all my rocks

65: Do I believe in luck?

yeee

66: What’s the weather like right now?

uhhh clear i think

67: What was the last book I’ve read?

Shibuya Goldfish

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?

nop

69: Do I have any nicknames?

lash, lashy, gremlin and then stupid relationship nicknames gldsfgjfgs

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?

prooobably almost falling down some stairs at a con and chipping my shin and probably partly pulling my shoulder out of the socket

71: Do I spend money or save it?

i try to save but end up spending it ouo;;;;

72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge?

nearly

73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me?

there are some half customized MH dolls so i guess yeah

74: Favourite animal?

cat uwu

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?

drawing ambles trollcall pick

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?

satan stan obviously

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

Here - Ancient Magus' Bride OP

78: How can you win my heart?

art of my ocs ngl

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?

fuck if i knew

80: What is my favorite word?

probably fuck if you would ask my phone lmao

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr

passivetrollsblitztrollstavvys-trollsfilibusterfrogwe-are-the-legion

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

hey fuckers lets rumble

83: Do I have any relatives in jail?

not that i know of

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

teleportation ngl

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

probably 87

86: What is my current desktop picture?

87: Had sex?

sweats how about we move on

88: Bought condoms?

89: Gotten pregnant?

hell no

90: Failed a class?

i think yeah

91: Kissed a boy?

yeeeeeeee

92: Kissed a girl?

nop

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?

does it count if we were indoors

94: Had job?

not yet wheezes

95: Left the house without my wallet?

96: Bullied someone on the internet?

i dont think so i mgiht have when i was younger

97: Had sex in public?

n o

98: Played on a sports team?

ye!

99: Smoked weed?

ye.

100: Did drugs?

only weedles

101: Smoked cigarettes?

nop

102: Drank alcohol?

yes and i hated it

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?

nop

104: Been overweight?

105: Been underweight?

nop

106: Been to a wedding?

nop

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?

every day p much

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?

nop

109: Been outside my home country?

ye!

110: Gotten my heart broken?

;;;; yeah

111: Been to a professional sports game?

112: Broken a bone?

possibly?

113: Cut myself?

if this is on accident then ya

114: Been to prom?

prom is a waste of time ngl just go to arbys

115: Been in airplane?

yeye

116: Fly by helicopter?

n o

117: What concerts have I been to?

blueman group and the 4th of july ones that play around here

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?

yeeee

119: Learned another language?

bits and pieces

120: Wore make up?

yeah

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?

nop

122: Had oral sex?

lets just skip the sex questions

123: Dyed my hair?

yeee

124: Voted in a presidential election?

125: Rode in an ambulance?

nop

126: Had a surgery?

nop

127: Met someone famous?

yeye

128: Stalked someone on a social network?

god no

129: Peed outside?

this question is weird

130: Been fishing?

hell the fuck yeah

131: Helped with charity?

prrrrobaby?

132: Been rejected by a crush?

yeah ;u;

133: Broken a mirror?

i dont think so

134: What do I want for birthday?

money

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names?

136: Was I named after anyone?

i was named after two people uwu

137: Do I like my handwriting?

i can barely read it lmao i hate it

138: What was my favourite toy as a child?

my stuffed tigger uwu

139: Favourite Tv Show?

fuck i dunno probably cyberchase or fetch i dont watch tv anymore lmao

140: Where do I want to live when older?

somewhere quiet but convenient

141: Play any musical instrument?

flute and violin

142: One of my scars, how did I get it?

i have a scar on my knuckle from making garlic bread ;u; wasnt even good

143: Favourite pizza toping?

banana peppers

144: Am I afraid of the dark?

nah

145: Am I afraid of heights?

mmmm at times

146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

yeah >w>;;;

147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?

all the mc fuckin time

148: What I’m really bad at

telling people when im not up for something

149: What my greatest achievments are

being alive you fuckers cant beat me i won over hundreds of other fuckers and im here

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me

Lets Not, Kids

151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery

buy so much cosplay shit and helping friends get what they need

152: What do I like about myself

im getting better uwu

153: My closest Tumblr friend

passivetrolls or blitztrolls wheezes

154: Something I fantasize about

being able to help my friends out of the places they are right now QuQ

155: Any question you’d like?

more questions for amble and my other girls!

#mun chitters #you thought i wouldnt do it did ya fucker #shenktrolls #ask

2 notes · View notes

truthofherdreams · 6 years

Text

people can surprise you (or not)

Friday

also on ao3

Maria is the one on Nastya Watch when Anya wakes up the following day. She’s made herself at home already, sitting cross-legged at the dinner table with her laptop and graphic tablet in front of her. The strong aroma of coffee fills the room, and the last notes of a Panic! At The Disco song fade away, Paramore’s guitar riffs rising in the silence of the apartment.

“The emo playlist, really?” Anya asks as she makes her way to the kitchen so she can pour herself a cup of coffee. She adds two sugar and a drop of milk, head bobbing to the music. It reminds her of being a teenager, singing along to rock songs and dancing on her bed with Maria and Alexei, playing at who-would-be-the-more-dramatic. (Her, always her.)

“It’s still solid, stop complaining,” Maria replies, not looking away from her screen. She’s drawing a mermaid, and it’s probably part of the children’s book she’s been illustrating for weeks now.

“Am not,” Anya says as she comes back to the living room, and sit on a chair opposite Maria. She puts her feet on the chair, arms wrapped around her legs and chin on her knees. “You could have bought croissants, though.”

Maria takes one grape from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table and throws it at her. Anya catches her with her mouth, the grape exploding on her tongue before she swallows it around a proud grin, to which her sister only replies by rolling her eyes.

“The bakery is just next door, feel free to go whenever.”

Anya pokes her tongue out at her sister, before she looks down at her phone. Emails have been piling up since yesterday and it will take her hours to go through all of them – not that she has anything else to do. She can’t remember the last time she took that many days off work, but it would be lying to say she doesn’t deserve them. She’s been working so hard the past few years; she deserves a break, even if it comes with an almost mental breakdown and an identity crisis.

She’s in the middle of sending a requested to DisneyLand – lots of kids want to be in the happiest place on earth as their Wish, after all – when Maria’s phone blasts Alexei’s personalised ringtone.

“Yeah, baby bro? …Okay, wait. I’m putting you on speaker.” She moves the phone away from her face and presses here and then on her screen, before she adds, “Okay, you can speak now.”

“Nastya, what’s Dmitry’s surname?”

She frowns, both at the question and the hurried tone. “Sudayev. Why?”

“You need to check Twitter,” is all Alexei says instead of answering. “Now.”

The sisters frown at each other above the top of the laptop screen, before Maria pushes her graphic tablet and Anya stands up to walk around the table. By the time Anya stands behind her sister, both hands on the back of the chair, Maria has opened Twitter already. It’s her profession account, the one where she posts about her work and current projects, but it’s not the most important part right now.

Because Anya’s eyes are drawn to the Worldwide Trends list on the left of the page, and they widen when she reads through it.

BuzzClick is trending, and with it Dmitry Sudayev. Worldwide.

Maria’s mouth hovers over the name, before she pauses and looks up at her little sister. Anya is aware that she’s waiting for something, for some hint of approval that she can click and discover what is going on. But she just can’t stop staring at the screen, at the name. Just a bunch of letters aligned in one specific order, and yet her heart is in her throat, beating so fast that she’s afraid her breakfast will go out the wrong way. Maria is silent, and so is Alexei, and Anya is staring and staring and staring.

She isn’t sure if she offers Maria a nod, or a jerk of the head, or just that her entire body is trembling. But at some point she moves, and Maria clicks on the link, opens the floodgates, releases the kraken. And Anya, with her heart in her throat and cotton in her ears, and her damn fucking mind playing tricks on her, Anya leans closer to the screen so she can read.

The first tweet comes from the Huffington Post, of all places. ‘How one Frenchmen called out incel-friendly online magazine,’ reads the title. Next tweet is from a feminist organisation. The one after from a politician. Then another feminist, some angry dude, a smaller newspaper, a YouTuber, random person number one, random person number two. It goes on and on, and on, until Maria scrolls back up and clicks on the HuffPost article.

“Sudayev, who had been working for ClickBuzz for the past five years, posted the article early this morning,” Maria reads out loud for the both of them. “It stayed online for three hours before it was deleted – but not before people could screencap it and share it on social media. The article soon went viral and…”

Maria stops then, goes back to Twitter, finds the screencaps. It’s four of them in a row, sentences after sentences, paragraphs after paragraphs. The style is messy, all over the place – she pictures Dmitry sitting in front of his computer and typing angrily, or going at it on his phone, before hitting the ‘Publish’ button in a spur-of-the-moment fit of rage.

That raw, unguarded flood of emotions, she felt it too.

It’s hard, to come to terms with it, with the fact that Dmitry may be going through the same heartbreak she is. A small, angry part of her wants him to suffer, to feel so sorry for his crimes that he will come crawling back to her and beg for forgiveness. But, at the end of the day, that is not who Anya is. That is not what Anya wants. She just wants… she just thinks that Dmitry messed up, and is as broken as she feels, and probably was drunk when he wrote and posted this.

She thinks that he would never have said some of those things, sober, to her face.

Maria’s phone beeps twice loudly, startling Anya out of her reflexion. It’s another call, from Olga, and Maria is fast to merge the two conversations together so they can share a big Romanov conversation.

“Did you see it?” are Tatiana’s first words.

“Yeah, looking at it right now,” Maria replies.

“How’s Malenkaya holding up?”

“You’re on speaker,” Maria says, at the same time that Anya replies, “I’m fine.” But her voice is flat and small, and her eyes are still glued to the screen, and she isn’t even convincing herself. She doesn’t feel fine. Actually, she doesn’t know how she feels at all about all of this.

The Dmitry she knows – or, well, thought she knew – never would have done that in a manipulative way. Despite what some of those tweets are claiming, he didn’t do it to throw a pity party for himself, or for Anya to feel sorry for him. If Dmitry is half the man she thought he was, he meant every word he wrote. And perhaps that is the most terrifying part.

“So what are you going to do?” Olga asks, her voice so soft and gentle that Anya’s eyes start prickling.

“Well, she can’t exactly…”

“I think that’s quite romantic and…”

“She should just call him to see if…”

“...obviously manipulating her and…”

“...if he really means it, it could…”

“...benefit of the doubt and…”

“...doesn’t deserve her anyway, she’s too…”

“...but what about second chances and….”

“HOW ABOUT YOU ALL SHUT UP!” Hands in her hair, pulling a little, she is still staring at the screen and ignoring Maria’s wide eyes, enjoying the silence that settles over the phone. Not even Olga makes a comment about her language, which says a lot. “My love life isn’t some kind of democracy where you all have a say!”

A pause. Then, Alexei, “Well, more like an oligarchy because…”

“Oh shut your damn mouth, okay!”

Alexei may shut his mouth, but Maria’s jaw is on the floor. Olga weakly protests about not talking to her brother that way, not that Anya pays her any mind. She’s just focusing on breathing properly again, deep in, low out, so as to calm down the anger building inside her. She loves her siblings, she really does, but sometimes they forget about boundaries. Which would be fine any other day, but her mind is too much of a mess already for her to take into account everyone’s opinion on the matter.

“I’ll call you all back later,” Maria hastily says, before she hangs up despite her siblings’ protests.

The silence that follows is deafening.

It’s only when Anya goes to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water, only to struggle with opening the bottle, that she looks down at her hands. They are trembling so hard she can’t make them stop, even when she clasps them together. She closes her eyes and leans her forehead against the cold metal of the fridge’s door, willing her heart to stop beating so fast, her entire body to calm down.

Maria’s hand, warm and soothing, settles on her back and runs small circles against the fabric of her shirt. She doesn’t say anything at first, just lets her comforting presence do the job, and Anya has to admit it is effective. After the noise and mess of her siblings, some moments of peace with the other half of the Little Pair might be exactly what she needs right now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Maria asks softly.

Anya scoffs. “Is there anything to talk about? This doesn’t change anything.”

She isn’t so sure who she is trying to convince here but, as always, Maria isn’t fooled. She doesn’t say anything for a while, her lips pressed tightly, as if carefully pondering on her next words. Maria has never been the wiser of the lot, after all, especially not when it comes to relationship advices. She got her heart burnt too many times before meeting the love of her life, and yet she kept throwing herself back in the game every time. Anya has no idea how she did it.

“But he said you were the love of his life,” Maria finally says, her voice soft and careful. “That has to change some things.”

“You think I should forgive him?”

“No.” Simple. Final. “Because what he did is unforgivable, I stand with Tanya on this. But… But Nastya, you owe it to yourself to find some closure, don’t you think?”

It’s dangerous -- she is afraid of what might happen if she confronts Dmitry again, if she looks into his eyes only to find something she doesn’t want to see in them. Or does want to see. What then? Fall back into his arms, only to get burnt once more? Walk away from him anyway? She doesn’t know what she wants, what she needs, what she expects. Why does everything about all of this have to be so complicated, her mind at war with her heart?

“I don’t know…” she starts, before she pauses. Tongue darting out to lick her lips. Hand rubbing one of her eyes.

But perhaps not knowing is exactly why she needs to do that. Perhaps it will shed some light on the situation and allow her to make sense of everything that has happened since Wednesday night. And, like Maria said, it might help her get some closure, might make it easier for her to move on after this. So she sighs, and looks back at her sister.

“Yeah, okay.”

Maria smiles, soft and protective, before she takes out her phone and opens the maps app. “Let’s go to BuzzClick, then.”

#dimya #dimya fanfiction #anastasia the musical #fanfic #ff: anastasia #ff: people can surprise you (or not)

33 notes · View notes

simplejjs · 6 years

Text

Unmasking the Love Part 5

Here it is, the final part of Unmasking the Love. It is a little Thanksgiving present from me to you. : - ) I am wishing all of you a holiday filled with kindness, happiness, and the warmth of friends and family.

I hope you liked my story! If so, you might also check out my first reveal story, which is a little more lighthearted and funny (you can find it on my tumblr site, my first few posts). We are a good 2/3 of the way through November, and still have no idea what DAY in December Season 2 of MLB will be released. Do I still have enough time to write one more reveal? Here’s a confession: I like best Ladrien. That is the basis for my next story; Ladybug is going to find out first. But until then, enjoy today! Thanks for all your likes and follows! Cheers!

Unmasking the Love Part 5 (by JJ Sprinkle)

Nino and Adrien were already lounging in their seats when Alya and Marinette walked in. Alya was showing her phone screen to Marinette, and describing the work she had put into her Ladyblog over the weekend. She’d started a new post, asking followers to write in with their theories as to the secret identities of Ladybug and Cat Noir. Alya and Marinette were laughing over some of the more outlandish ones.

“‘Sup?” Nino greeted them. Quickly he was pulled into the conversation, and soon Adrien scooted over on the bench to look at Alya’s phone screen too. Crowding over the small screen, Adrien glanced to his left to find himself only inches from Marinette. Unexpectedly, his stomach did a funny swoop. Adrien snapped his gaze back down to the phone screen, surprised beyond words. After a moment, he flicked his eyes back to Marinette’s profile. This time, he caught her gaze, and she turned to him to share the laughter. “Outer space, dude. That’s bunk!” Nino said.

“Alien Cat Noir,” Adrien joked.

“Alien Ladybug,” Marinette added, and the four friends laughed. Adrien and Marinette kept staring at each other, ostensibly sharing the joke. But Marinette’s stomach was filled with butterflies, and she felt powerless to pull her gaze away, while Adrien was caught by her blue, blue eyes, feeling there was something lovely and familiar about them, but unable to identify exactly what.

He was the first to look away, unsettled and unsure. Adrien pushed his tablet and notebooks together, lining them up neatly, to compensate for the confused state of his mind. Feeling a draw to Marinette seemed both natural and wrong. With Ladybug always in the back of his mind, instinctively Adrien shied away from any attraction to another girl. Suddenly, the whole point of last week crashed into him, and Adrien sat straighter in his chair. No, he thought, it couldn’t be…?

The class could hear Mme Bustier’s voice in the hallway, as she chatted with a colleague while making her way to class. Knowing he had spare seconds, Adrien turned to Marinette and asked, “And what did you do over the weekend?”

A big smile lighted her face, and Marinette replied, “I was working on a project for a friend. I spent all weekend on it!” Adrien nodded his head, as if her words were inconsequential, and he turned back to the front of the classroom. However, his pulse was racing and his mind was whirling.

Mme Bustier arrived and started the class, but Adrien’s concentration was shot. No matter the pressure of forthcoming exams, all Adrien could do was weigh possibilities, replay memories, and analyze behaviors. The differences between Ladybug and Marinette were glaring, yet the similarities - increasingly obvious the more he got to know Marinette - were indisputable.

“You will work in groups for this project,” Mme Bustier was saying, as she handed out worksheets to the class.

“Adrien!” Chloe called from across the aisle.

Mme Bustier interrupted her, “Ms. Bourgeois, I will be setting the groups.” She turned back to Marinette’s and Alya’s bench, where she was placing a handout, and said, “You two will work with Nino and Adrien,” and she moved on. “Ivan, Nathanael, Juleka, Rose and Max. Kim, Mylene, Alix, Chloe, and Sabrina. And no, Chloe,” Mme Bustier forestalled the predictable complaint, “you may not work in groups of two. Only the groups I set. And the work is equally shared.” Chloe didn’t even bother to hide her annoyance.

Marinette was overcome with excitement, joy, and panic. What if all she said was stupid, garbled things? Or she tripped on and destroyed the project? Despite her anxieties, her mind sang a constant chorus of ‘Adrien! Adrien!’ She would actually get to partner with Adrien! Alya poked her shoulder, and grinned.

By the time lunch arrived, it seemed unquestioned that the four would eat together again. Before Chloe had a chance to hijack Adrien, the four friends had already slipped from their seats and were headed out the door as a unit. Chloe stamped her foot in frustration.

Nino led them to a table bathed in sunlight from the large picture windows. Alya and Adrien grabbed seats on either side of him, and Marinette sat down last.

Alya immediately turned the conversation to their project. Each group was to choose an event from world history and create a large diorama of it to present to the class. Adrien was having a hard time keeping track of the conversation. Instead, he kept sneaking peeks at Marinette. Sweet and quiet, frequently keeping to the background, she just did not act like Ladybug, who radiated energy. Adrien shook his head. Still, her midnight black hair, and incomparable blue eyes, they fit. Why had he never noticed her blue eyes before, he wondered, then thought about how normally she averted her gaze when he was around. In fact, he thought, did she even like him? Generally she left the talking up to Alya when the three were speaking. The more he thought about it, the less certain Adrien became.

“Alya, that would rock, but where can we build something like that?”

“Maybe one of the classrooms?”

“Or one of the study carrels in the library?” Marinette suggested.

“Could we do it at your house, Marinette? In your room?” Nino asked.

“No!” Marinette replied quickly, a blush suddenly staining her cheeks. “I mean, my room really isn’t too big, plus I have my sewing supplies all over…” She glanced at Adrien, then turned away.

Adrien did not even know what they were planning, but obviously it needed sufficient space over some period of time, so he offered, “You could use my bedroom. It’s huge, and no one would disturb us there.”

“Dude,” Nino pointed out, “your old man said I couldn’t come to your house.”

“Whatever,” Adrien replied, hiding the bitterness he still harbored over his father’s unfair treatment of Nino. “He never pays attention to what I do, as long as I keep on his schedule. Plus, he can’t very well kick you out when you are there as a partner on a school project.” Actually, Adrien knew his father would not scruple to throw Nino out, regardless, but he didn’t let on.

“Okay, project at Adrien’s house!” Nino said.

“I have a photoshoot and Chinese after class today, but tomorrow afternoon would work.”

The four agreed to start their project the next day, then spent the rest of lunch planning the materials. When the bell rang, Adrien pushed his small pile of cheese into a napkin and gathered the rest of his lunch remains.

“Why don’t you just bring extra cheese for a snack, instead of pulling it off your sandwich?” Marinette suddenly asked him.

Adrien colored, thinking that his actions had been too subtle for anyone to notice. “Uh…” he temporized, knowing he could not explain that the cooks had already questioned the amount of cheese he went through. He wanted to avoid any overt behavior that could bring the scrutiny of his father down on him. “I, uh, don't want to make extra work for the cooks,” he feebly lied.

Marinette looked at him dubiously, glanced at his pile of cheese, then shrugged. Adrien stopped himself from sighing in relief.

The night was colder than the last time Ladybug had met up with Cat Noir. Swinging through the streets, Ladybug thought about an essay she was writing in literature, and the grade she had received on her geometry test. Schoolwork was becoming more intense as the semester was coming to an end, and her test grade reflected the difficulty Marinette faced balancing her double life. She arrived at the Trocadero a little after midnight, and saw Cat Noir’s silhouetted figure sitting on the same ledge from the previous evening. She saw his ears twitch, even though she was many meters away, and he turned his brilliant green eyes directly to her.

Ladybug’s heart lightened. Even the homework hanging over her head couldn’t quell her excitement at giving him Plagg’s gift. She shot out her yoyo one last time to swing quickly to Cat Noir’s side.

He was already standing when she got there, and with a formal bow and cocky smile greeted her with, “MiLady.”

“Cat Noir!” she smiled. With a wide grin, she said, “I have Plagg’s present! Put out your hands, and close your eyes…”

Cat Noir did so, and felt a soft item placed in his upturned palms. When he opened his eyes, a black velveteen pillow, with soft supportive sides, and green accent piping, sat in his hands. It was a little pet bed.

“It’s a bed! For Plagg!” Ladybug explained unnecessarily. “I made one for Tikki a while ago, but hers is red and black.”

Turning it around and around in his hands, Cat Noir said, “This is fabulous! Thank you LB!” Cat Noir struggled to keep the emotions he was feeling from his face. Tears unexpectedly smarted his eyes, and he ducked his head and pretended to rub his nose to hide them from Ladybug. The last time anyone had gotten him a present was the scarf his father had bought him, and Adrien did not think anyone had ever actually *made* a gift for him, including his mom. Cat Noir swallowed before speaking again. His voice was filled with admiration when he asked, “You really made this yourself?”

“Yup!” Ladybug beamed, happy to have impressed Cat Noir. “I spent all weekend on it! Oh, and Tikki says to say hi to Plagg!”

Her words sent a shiver up Cat Noir’s spine. They echoed Marinette’s from the morning, ‘I spent all weekend on it.’ Cat Noir stared at the bed in his hands. Finally he raised his gaze to Ladybug. Pasting on a smile, Cat Noir’s eyes played over Ladybug’s face, measuring, studying, considering.

It was an indication of their intimacy that Ladybug immediately sensed Cat Noir’s change of mood. “Are you okay? Are you sure you like it?” Her voice sounded doubtful, a little small, and suddenly Cat Noir thought he could see Marinette in her.

“I love it, Bugaboo,” he said sincerely, a luminous smile blossoming on his face. “I really love it! And Plagg will love it too.” Cat Noir grasped Ladybug’s hand and led her over to the ledge. He patted the space next to him as he sat down, placing the little bed carefully on his lap.

“What shall we talk about tonight, MiLady? More kwamis?”

Ladybug kicked her heels against the wall, relaxing for a moment from the stress of schoolwork. “I don’t know. How about…” She pursed her lips, and Cat Noir watched her profile.

He wanted to kiss those lips. He wanted to kiss her, to fold her into his arms and tell her, show her how valuable she was to him. Cat Noir gripped the little pet bed, and pretended to study it. She did not want to kiss him. She wanted to kiss Adrien. As Cat Noir, he could not get through to her, and unless he figured out who she was behind the mask, he didn’t have any chance of solidifying their connection. Could she really be Marinette? Marinette certainly did not act like someone who wanted to kiss Adrien. Cat Noir thought about how shaken Ladybug had been when she thought Adrien was in trouble, but he had never seen Marinette act that way around him. Normally she seemed uncomfortable, sometimes even a little distant, around him. Shaking his head, Cat Noir wondered if it could all just be crazy coincidences?

Reverting to form, Cat Noir quipped, “I could give you tips on how to flirt with Adrien Agreste.”

Ladybug laughed at him. “Right, that would go something like, make puns until he agrees to go out with you just to shut you up.”

Cat Noir was a little hurt. “First,” he pointed out, “my puns are clever and funny.” Ladybug snorted with laughter. “Second,” and Cat Noir leaned a little too close to her, and pretended to be hopeful, “Would that really work?”

“No, no!” Ladybug leaned back, waving her hands to ward him off but still laughing with his antics, “Don’t even try it!” She switched topics, “How about our favorite places in Paris?”

“That is nowhere near as fun,” Cat Noir replied.

“But,” Ladybug knew she had the upper hand, “it might give me ideas for a present that I can make for you!” Cat Noir’s heart squeezed, and he glanced away again. She was perfection incarnate, and his love for her exploded all over again.

He covered his emotions with a lighthearted response, “Oh, well then, you’ve convinced me!”

The two spent the next ten minutes comparing their favorite spots in Paris, before the weight of her homework began to eat at Ladybug. “I really have to go. I still have lots of homework to do.”

“But it’s almost 12:30, Bugaboo. Surely you should get to bed?” A quick image of cuddling her flashed in Cat Noir’s mind before he forcefully pushed it away.

“Mmm, yeah,” she agreed, “but I still have a couple of things that are due tomorrow.”

Cat Noir stood up, and held out his hand for Ladybug. As soon as she was standing, she dropped his hand. Not far from this site lived Adrien, and as affectionate as she was growing to feel towards Cat Noir, her loyalty was still firmly attached to Adrien.

“It’s been several days without an akuma attack, MiLady,” Cat Noir said. “Can we agree to meet again? I’d hate to wish misery on anyone…”

Ladybug smiled her answer, “Can we do Friday? It would be much more fun if I didn’t have school hanging over me the next day.”

Bending his waist in a gallant bow, Cat Noir agreed, “‘Til Friday, MiLady.”

Spontaneously, Ladybug grabbed his hand and tugged him back up. “Oh, Cat,” she laughed, and squeezed his hand before letting it drop. Pulling out her yoyo, she turned, tossed it into the darkness, and yelled quickly, “See you Friday, Chaton!” before disappearing.

Cat Noir watched her shadowy form sail away. Ladybug? Marinette? He stared into the night. Friday seemed very far away.

When Cat Noir got home that night, and transformed, he immediately presented the little bed to Plagg. The effect was memorable. The sarcastic, irreverent kwami fell silent, eyes huge, as he dove into his new bed and rubbed his cheek along the fabric. Poking his head up from the side, his voice was filled with awe when he asked, “She really made it for me? It’s mine?”

Adrien chuckled as he reached into the mini refrigerator for Plagg’s cheese. “All yours! She said she made one for Tikki too.”

Still stroking his cheek against the bed, Plagg said, “I love Ladybug!” As Adrien approached with Plagg’s cheese, Plagg said lazily, “Serve me my cheese here.”

“Of course, my Dictator,” Adrien replied sarcastically.

Plagg rolled onto his back, kicked his feet into the air, and nibbled on his camembert with delight.

“Ladybug also said, that Tikki says hello.”

“Tell Tikki I said hello back,” Plagg mumbled around a mouth full of cheese. Swallowing, he then added deviously, “And give Ladybug a kiss for me. To say thank you.”

Adrien muttered, “I wish!” and Plagg just laughed.

The hectic pace of school the next day forestalled any real attempts by Adrien to quiz Marinette. Even lunch was a wash, as Adrien had to attend a PR event for the launch of a new Gabriel shoe brand in the middle of the day. So, it was not until the afternoon, when school was out, that he finally could relax with Marinette, Nino, and Alya.

Adrien had arranged with Nathalie to have most of the project’s supplies waiting in his room, and he had arranged with his personal chef to have a selection of snacks and refreshments laid out as well. This was the closest he had ever gotten to throwing a party, and he wanted to make sure he did it all correctly.

His bodyguard picked the four up in front of the school in the limousine, and whisked them along the boulevards to the Agreste mansion. Adrien maneuvered to sit next to Marinette on the way and intentionally pressed his thigh up against hers during the ride. He could hear her quiet gasp, and felt her whole body stiffen. Adrien frowned, and was so busy weighing the possible reasons for her behavior that he missed the blush that painted Marinette’s cheeks. Nino, cheerfully observant, saw the whole thing, and sent an encouraging smile to Adrien. Adrien looked at Nino, puzzled.

Within ten minutes they arrived at Adrien’s house and Adrien led them directly to his room. He had only explained to Nathalie that a small group was coming to the house to work on a school assignment, and had carefully avoided naming any of the students. The four walked in to find the food, drinks, and project supplies waiting for them. Nino had been in the room before, but was impressed all over again. Alya had never been, and was struck speechless for almost ten seconds, before exclaiming, “Holy - ! This is a-maze-ing!” Marinette, who had been in the room multiple times as Ladybug, who had in fact jumped all over its walls in the course of two different akuma attacks, was left to lie weakly, “Oh, yeah, this place is incredible.”

“Please, help yourself to hors d’oeuvres,” Adrien offered. Alya laughed at his stilted vocabulary, while Nino dove in.

With his mouth stuffed, Nino said, “Dude, this is awesome!”

“And help yourself to drinks, too. I can call for tea or coffee if you would prefer.”

With his mouth full of food, Nino suggested, “Dude, why don’t you get something for Marinette?”

Both Adrien and Marinette glanced at Nino, surprised, then at each other. “Uh, sure Nino,” Adrien said. “Would you like anything, Marinette? Alya?”

Feeling awkward, Marinette replied, “No thank you.” She could feel her cheeks burning, and she looked quickly away from Adrien to hide her blush.

Alya merely waved her hand, focused instead on the breathtaking view of the city from Adrien’s room, and said, “No, thanks.”

Marinette stood alone in the middle of the room, feeling truly inconsequential. How could someone who lived like this ever find a reason to be attracted to her? She watched Adrien digging through the project supplies that Nathalie had delivered, pulling out what they would need to start the assignment. So beautiful, so genuine, so nice. Marinette shrugged, looking down at her feet, and thinking that he could have any girl he wanted.

Alya sensed Marinette’s mood and walked to her side. She twined her fingers through Marinette’s and whispered, “He wants *you*. He doesn’t know it, but everything he described about the girl was you. C’mon, girl, keep the faith!” Marinette shot Alya a weak smile.

The thought crossed Marinette’s mind, Even if he never likes me, I will NOT act like a mopey child. I *am* strong! I may be Marinette, but I am also Ladybug! She squared her shoulders, then said, “Okay, guys, let’s get this project going.”

The four gathered in a circle around the workspace Adrien had created. Stepping sideways to make a space between Adrien and himself, Nino suggested agreeably, “Hey, Marinette, why don’t you come over here?”

“Um, okay…” Marinette agreed hesitantly, then shot a look at Alya that said, ‘Why’s Nino acting so strange?’ A brief guilty look seemed to flit across Alya’s face, but then she simply shrugged as if saying she did not know.

Getting to work, it was soon apparent that Marinette was the most talented and experienced working with the diverse materials. She rapidly became leader of their group. As she lost herself in bringing the project to life, her behavior became less and less the stumbling Marinette that Adrien normally experienced, and more and more the self-confident, energetic Ladybug that he admired. Adrien silently worked on whatever Marinette directed him, hypersensitive to her mood change and increasingly aware of her similarities to his Ladybug.

After almost an hour, the group decided to take a break. They all moved back over to the snacks and drinks that Adrien had laid out. Nino and Adrien walked over to the climbing wall, while Alya and Marinette chatted about the project’s next steps. As Alya returned to the pile of supplies in search of a particular item, Marinette wandered aimlessly around the room. Her heart on the edge of fluttering, she took the time to enjoy the fact that she was actually hanging out in Adrien’s bedroom. Last time she had been here was after Volpina’s attack, and Ladybug had been panicky. Before that, her concentration had been fully on fighting Volpina, and before that it had been Simon Says’ attack. She glanced over to Adrien’s desk, remembering the screensaver photo of his mother. Now, his computers sat dark.

Glancing across its clean surface, Marinette’s eyes wandered towards Adrien’s bed in the nearby corner. As her eyes alighted on his bed frame, Marinette suddenly went still. She stared, refusing to believe her eyes. Snuggled up between the wall and Adrien’s comforter, on the wide shelf bordering his bed, was her bed. Plagg’s bed. Her mind stuttered with her thoughts, and Marinette could not believe what her eyes were telling her.

As if pulled by a magnet, Marinette slowly approached the little black bed. She stood before it, her hands gripped together like they were holding onto her life. Then hesitantly, uncertainly, she reached out one finger to gently touch the pillow. The soft velveteen sat innocuously before her, but she pulled back her hand as if it had been burnt. Darting a quick look over her shoulder to make sure no one was watching, Marinette reached out again and stroked the little pet bed.

Gathering all her courage, she flipped up one specific corner of the bed, to peer at the bottom. The blood drained from her face. There, carefully embroidered in black thread, nearly invisible unless one knew to look for it, was her signature: Ladybug. She had chosen that just in case.

Marinette dropped the bed and stepped back suddenly, as if it were poison. She stepped right into a solid frame directly behind her. Turning, still dazed, she found she had run into Adrien.

He was watching her silently.

Marinette’s brain suddenly kicked into high gear, and she began to babble, “Uh, nice bed. Pet bed. I was just looking at your pet bed. It’s a nice pet bed.”

“A good friend of mine gave it to me,” Adrien said, very deliberately.

“Yes? Nice. That’s good. I didn’t know you had a pet.”

“Mmm,” Adrien answered noncommittally. Then he added, “A little black cat.”

Marinette’s heart was thundering in her ears. She stared at Adrien, shock and disbelief warring on her face, then her gaze darted frantically around the room, like she was looking for an escape. She stepped back, away from Adrien, then to the side, still avoiding his gaze. Maybe her mouth opened to say something, maybe not - she had no clear thought in her head except that she had to leave.

Marinette practically ran to her book bag, and as she shoved her personal items into it, she laughed in a manic way and announced, “I just saw the time! I have to go! My parents. Now. Gotta go.” She turned in the direction of Adrien, but still kept her eyes averted, “Thanks for all the food and stuff. Okay, see you guys tomorrow. ‘Bye.” And she raced out of the room.

Alya and Nino looked at each other, amazed.

“Dude,” Nino started, “I didn’t know she had to go.”

“Me neither,” Alya said, suspiciously. She looked over at Adrien, and narrowed her eyes.

Adrien held his hands out innocently and shrugged, “I didn’t do anything.” But he knew that he had.

“Well, if it’s alright with you two, I think I’ll just go catch up to her. Can we come back tomorrow, or Thursday?”

Adrien replied, “I have to check my schedule with Nathalie, but Thursday or Friday should be fine. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Alya quickly gathered her belongings, thanked Adrien for the food, and left.

“Yo, dude, I’m glad they’re gone,” Nino immediately said. Adrien looked at him, surprised. “Alya told me something that you’re gonna want to hear, my man! Marinette likes you!”

With that, the last pin clicked into place, and a door of promise opened in Adrien’s mind. With a quick smile, Adrien looked at Nino and said, “I think I just figured that out!”

“Maybe Cat Noir gave it to him,” Tikki theorized.

“Do you really believe that?” Marinette asked, her head still in a whirl.

“No,” Tikki answered, “but I guess it *is* possible.”

Marinette dropped to the park bench next to her, then buried her head in her hands. Barely audibly to Tikki, Marinette muttered, “The cheese.”

“What?” asked Tikki, floating near her shoulder.

Marinette looked up and repeated, “The cheese. That’s why he saves his cheese. Plagg only eats cheese.”

“Oh, that’s true!” Tikki said brightly. Marinette still looked miserable, and Tikki added, “I guess Adrien saves his cheese?” Marinette nodded. After a moment, Tikki argued, “But Marinette, I don’t think you should be so upset. This is happy! You like Adrien, and Adrien is Cat Noir, and Cat Noir likes you. It all works out!”

“Tikki, Cat Noir likes Ladybug.”

“Yes…?”

“He doesn’t like me, he likes Ladybug. Adrien likes Ladybug.”

“But Marinette, you *are* Ladybug. Whether or not you have the suit on.” Marinette shook her head, refusing to accept Tikki’s words. Tikki tried again, “Remember when you had to fight Anti-Bug as Marinette, and saved Cat Noir’s life? Remember when I was sick, and you fought Princess Fragrance? You’re talking like you, like Marinette, didn’t do those things.”

“And would Ladybug trip down the stairs in front of Adrien, *and* lose you too? Or would Ladybug make a present for Adrien, and be so tongue-tied that she couldn’t even give it to him? And then let Chloe actually shove her away? No!” Tears of confusion and remembered mortification welled up in Marinette’s eyes.

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki sympathized.

“I don’t know how I’m going to face Cat Noir,” Marinette muttered.

“But you don’t have to tell him, do you?” Tikki asked. “Regardless of anything, you two *must* be able to fight akumas, *together*.”

“I know, Tikki,” Marinette said. She stood up, and brushed her hands down her thighs, wishing she could brush away her insecurities so easily. “But sooner or later Cat Noir is going to figure it out, and he’s going to be really disappointed.”

The two started for home. “First of all, he wouldn’t be disappointed. Marinette, you’re one of the nicest, sweetest people I’ve ever known, and remember,” Tikki giggled, “I’ve been around for centuries! And second of all, there’s nothing to say that Cat Noir will ever find out, if you don’t want him to.”

Marinette sighed, and kicked a pebble out of her way. “I guess…” she said, ignoring Tikki’s compliment. Then, turning determined eyes to Tikki, she added, “But I can promise that I won’t let my emotions get in the way of fighting Hawkmoth. I swear!”

Tikki flew close to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, “I know that, Marinette!”

“Quick, hide, someone’s coming!” Marinette held open her pink purse, and Tikki disappeared inside.

For the rest of the evening, Marinette avoided phone calls and text messages from Alya. Incapable of discussing the situation with her, Marinette simply sidestepped the whole thing.

Marinette tossed and turned for much of the night, worrying about how she would act, or even feel, when she saw Adrien the next day. He would think she was crazy after how she had run out of his house the day before. She’d have to figure out how to apologize to all three of them for leaving so abruptly. By the time morning came, Marinette felt like she was crawling through molasses, and it was no surprise that she got to school late.

The hallways were empty as she hurried to Mme Bustier’s classroom. She slipped through the door as quietly as possible, then shot Alya a weak smile as she scooted past her to her seat. About to put her bag down, Marinette noticed something on her desk. A small chocolate chip cookie sat alone on a white paper napkin, and printed neatly on the napkin was, “For Tikki.”

Adrien had turned in his seat when Marinette sneaked in, and was watching her like a hawk. It was Marinette’s eyes that betrayed her: with no conscious thought, she immediately lifted her gaze to Adrien’s. Her face turned pale as a ghost’s, and then bright red; her eyes were saucers.

Immediately raising her hand, Marinette said, “Mme Bustier, may I please go to the bathroom?” She was already sliding out of her seat before Mme Bustier replied.

Mme Bustier first said, “Marinette? But you just got here!” Then she sighed and said, “Fine.” Marinette dashed out of the classroom.

Immediately Adrien’s hand went up. “Mme Bustier, I need to go too.”

“Fine, Adrien, go.” Mme Bustier sounded annoyed. Alya contemplated asking if she could go too, agog at the soap opera developing between Marinette and Adrien. One look at Mme Bustier’s expression, however, quelled this idea.

Instead Alya leaned forward and whispered to Nino, “Do you know what’s going on?”

“No,” he said.

“Who’s Tikki?” Alya asked.

Nino shrugged just as Mme Bustier called out sharply, “Alya, Nino, please pay attention!”

Adrien found Marinette sitting on the floor in the far corner of the locker room. She had her forehead resting against her knees, but he knew she was aware of him because, as he silently sat down next to her, she shifted a little to the right to make room.

Adrien wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure what was going on in Marinette’s mind. Last night, when he’d come up with the idea of a cookie for Tikki, he imagined Marinette bursting out laughing at his message. He had also imagined her getting angry with him, for figuring it all out. But Marinette sat silently, unmoving, neither laughing nor, it seemed, angry.

Finally, Adrien gently tugged on her left hand and pulled it down, simply holding it. Marinette neither pulled it away nor grasped his hand back. After nearly a minute, Adrien lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently, then said quietly, “Hey, Bugaboo.”

That made her pull her hand away. She didn’t do it forcefully, just determinedly. Then she wrapped her arm back around her knees, and kept hiding her face.

Adrien’s voice was quiet, but concerned, when he said, “MiLady, what’s wrong? I expected you maybe to be angry, but…”

“Don’t call me that,” Marinette’s voice was muffled.

“What?” Adrien asked uncertainly.

Finally raising her head to dart a glance at him, Marinette repeated more clearly, “Don’t call me that.” Then she put her head back down.

“Why not?” Adrien was puzzled.

Lifting her head again, Marinette finally, really looked at him. “Because that’s not me. That’s… you know. That’s… I’m not…” Marinette humphed, and frowned.

“You know I know, right?” Adrien asked. With the hint of a Cat Noir smile, he added, “I’ve even been told that you might have a crush on me, too.”

With alarm, he watched Marinette’s eyes fill with tears. Turning to kneel before her, Adrien grabbed both of her hands and quickly said, “Never mind! You don’t have to! I’m sure you don’t have a crush on me!”

The tears now began to fall from her eyes. Sounding miserable, Marinette said, “But I do. I do!” And again, she dropped her head back to her knees.

Adrien let go of her hands to scratch the back of his neck. Still kneeling before her, he finally said, “So, uh, Marinette? I don’t really see what the problem is. I like you, and you like me.”

This time, when Marinette raised her head, she was glaring at him. Dashing away her tears with one hand, she whispered furiously, “Look, you like Ladybug, okay? We both know that. You like… I’m not like… I’m not her.”

It took Adrien a moment before he finally understood what Marinette was trying to say. Once he did, he started to chuckle, and without asking permission he leaned forward and hugged Marinette, placing a platonic kiss on the crown of her head. She huffed as he shifted to sit next to her again. When he placed an arm around her shoulders, Marinette tried to remain aloof, but it felt so good, so good… here were her dreams, Adrien with his arm around her, pulling her close, and finally Marintette melted a little against him.

“Okay, Marinette, here goes. You are right. I like Ladybug. A lot. Really, really, a lot.” Adrien blushed, and was glad that Marinette was not looking at him. “If you want, I can tell you all the reasons I like you as Ladybug.” He took a breath, “I also happen to like you as Marinette a lot. An awful lot. And the more I get to know you, the more I like you as Marinette too. So now what do you think?”

Marinette was silent, pressing in to him, and then she started crying even more. “But I’m so clumsy! And I’m not even very brave,” she admitted to him, against her better judgement.

“Thank goodness for that!” Adrien joked. “It would be a little embarrassing for you to be constantly outshining me *both* as Ladybug *and* as Marinette.”

Marinette sniffled, and found herself defending Cat Noir, “I don’t outshine you.”

“Well, yes, usually you do, but that’s okay. We’re a team. The Cat and Bug team.”

Through watery eyes, Marinette laughed, “The Bug and Cat team.”

“Whatever,” Adrien shrugged, winking. “The Marinette Adrien team?” he then asked.

With wide, solemn eyes, Marinette stared at Adrien. Finally, he raised his eyebrows, silently asking his question again. With a little smile, Marinette nodded. It all seemed like a dream.

“May the Adrien part of the team kiss the Marinette part of the team?”

Marinette blushed. Without thinking, she answered, “Really?” Adrien couldn’t help but laugh. Realizing what a fangirl she had sounded like, Marinette shoved at his shoulder to cover her embarrassment. He pushed back, but stopped laughing.

With a lowered voice, he said, “I’m going to take that as a yes, okay?” and then shifted around to face her. Cupping Marinette’s face in his hands, Adrien gently lowered his mouth to hers. He kept his eyes open long enough to see hers flutter close, then he closed his eyes and let all of his soul focus on the kiss. Her lips were soft and warm, and he moved over them with delicate butterfly kisses. She kissed him back shyly, until he began to nibble on her lower lip. Marinette started to lose herself in the kiss, in the beauty of being held by Adrien. Her hands crept up around his shoulders, and she made a soft, sighing humm. Adrien pulled her closer, weaving his fingers through her silky hair and angling his head to kiss her even more deeply. It was all even better than his dreams. Their hearts were racing when, minutes later, Adrien finally pulled back, knowing that he needed to stop for his own sanity. Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on Marinette’s forehead.

Adrien shifted to sit back beside her, and with a gentle tug, he got Marinette to lay her head on his shoulder. The two sat silently, panting slightly, letting their pulses settle down.

After a moment, Marinette suddenly raised her head and said, “But Adrien, aren’t you frightened that I don’t like Cat Noir as much as you?”

His smile was pure Cat Noir when he answered, “Frightened? Psshhh! Now that you know we are one and the same person, you’ll have no need to stop yourself from falling for me as Cat Noir, too!”

With mock indignation, Marinette batted at Adrien’s shoulder. He laughed, and hauled her up onto his lap, then proceeded to kiss her forehead again, then the tip of her nose, and then… Hovering over Marinette’s lips, Adrien whispered, ”You have no idea how much I like you, MiLady. All of you.”

Before he could kiss her again, Marinette placed her hand against his cheek and replied, “Adrien, Cat Noir, I am so, so happy.” Then, she reached up and pulled his lips to hers.

When Alya finally found them, she yelped. “Omigod, omigod, omigod…!” she repeated.

Later, telling the story to Nino, Alya swore that when they looked up at her, they both had stars in their eyes. “Uh, Mme Bustier sent me to find you,” Alya explained, once she had gotten her voice back. “But, uh, I can tell her I couldn’t find you, if you want?” She sounded almost hopeful.

Adrien lazily pulled away from Marinette, and gazed into her jewel-blue eyes. The last thing he wanted was to return to class, but he knew that they had to sooner or later. They both took a few deep breaths to calm their racing hearts, and after a moment Adrien smiled jauntily and said, “You’ve got to be kitten me, that we have to go back to class?”

Marinette grinned back at him and said, “If we don’t go soon, you know Alya will bug us.”

Adrien raised his eyebrows in approval, then added, “Yeah, she’ll probably plagg us to death if we don’t come now.” He leaned down and rubbed his nose against Marinette’s in an Eskimo kiss.

The two laughed, as Alya stood there, mouth agape. Marinette pushed herself off of Adrien’s lap, then stood, and held out her hand to help Adrien up. He grabbed it, and did not let it go once he was standing.

As they followed Alya back to class, Marinette glanced at Adrien, her brow furrowed and a slight frown on her face. Just as they walked into the classroom, her face cleared into a bright, mischievous grin. Turning towards Adrien she whispered, “And Nino? I tikki will also be amazed.”

The stern look Mme Bustier shot them did nothing to silence the explosion of laughter that bound together their hearts.

The End (by JJ Sprinkle)

I hope you liked my story! It was so fun writing it! Here is a link to my next MLB ‘reveal’ story: https://simplejjs.tumblr.com/post/169184516520/love-reveals-part-1

Here is a link to my first MLB ‘reveal’ story: https://simplejjs.tumblr.com/post/166535026000/chapter-1-of-my-reveal

#MLB #Miraculous Ladybug #Ladybug #Cat Noir #reveal #kiss #LadyNoir #Adrienette #Plagg #Tikki

78 notes · View notes