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acemapleeh · 1 year

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The Fog of the North End of the World

Summary: Alfred and Matthew were supposed to go out on a pleasant kayak ride off the coast of Vancouver Island. When the fog rolls in, a reminder is placed on where they stand between humanity and the supernatural. This was written as my contribution to the Together in Unity: HWS NA Brothers Zine. Characters: America, Canada Word Count: 1988 Warnings: Some Disturbing Imagery Read on ao3

Mid-June 1993, Cadboro Bay, British Columbia, Canada

“I thought you checked the weather reports before we came out here.”

“And I did.”

“And you didn’t think it was important to tell me fog was in the forecast?”

“I didn’t think it would be this bad!”

Matt groaned and the only reason Alfred could see his brother throw his head back, face buried in his hands, was because their kayaks were pressed together, some rope keeping Matthew from drifting away. The fog had rolled in quick, thick as cotton, and completely blanketed the harbor. They were in Matt’s waters and his deck compass said they were facing west, but the harbor was full of other vessels much larger than them. Going back to shore in these conditions would be a long, tedious task even with six flares and proper navigation tools.

Alfred yawned and stretched his arms back. “You know Mattie, I’m starting to believe this so-called ‘Caddy’ doesn’t exist, or if it does, it’s long swum out to sea by now anyway.”

“Well, it won’t be the first time we’ve come out here for nothing,” said Matthew agreeably. “There were just so many reports recently. A baby was released in the San Juan Islands not that long ago and I’m thinking that’s what people are spotting up here.”

“Since when did you care about this kind of stuff? You sound like the old man,” he snarked. Then, as if reciting from a script, he continued. “There have been a number of sightings of an unknown creature off the shores of Vancouver Island, large bones spotted on the beaches, a few alarming and terrifying photographs have been submitted to us- enticing the like of cryptozoologists across the country.”

Matt had always been able to see the creatures lurking past the thin veil of the supernatural. It hardly affected his day-to-day life, not nearly giving them the same time of day as Arthur would. Alfred had all but blocked that ability since he was still unbreeched. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not taking any of this seriously?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Matt let out another groan and began untying the rope between them. “We should start heading back, it’ll be dark on top of this fog if we don’t get moving,” Matt proposed, pushing himself in the direction of home. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Al. I was sure we would find something.”

“No biggie. Dunno why you even bothered inviting me to help you.” Alfred rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you ever expect to find out here other than trees bro.”

“I don’t know, just, didn’t want to be out here alone I guess.”

“Remember the last time you asked for my help trying to track Bigfoot?”

“Yes, all you did was bring a case of beer up and make unseemly ape noises and nearly got yourself shot by a hunter.”

The two paddled on, chattering quietly together, Alfred eager to get off the water and get back to Matt’s place in Victoria. Some mist had settled in fully, dampening his hair and chilling the back of his neck. Their thermoses had gone cold and empty by now; a bowl of clam chowder and hot coffee felt like the only things in the world that could warm him up.

Along the mild waters, they traversed and as more time passed, Alfred became increasingly aware that they hadn’t come across a single boat or even other kayakers. They hadn’t even spotted the glimmering lights of the harbor.

He was about to ask Matt what the deal was when something began to take shape in the fog.

A pine forest loomed above the water though Alfred’s eyes struggled to focus on the trees, a part of him believed that it was something other than the fog that prevented him from seeing what was before him. Waves lapped gently and invitingly on the shore and in the distance, there was the eerie and haunting call of a loon.

Matthew was mouthing something to himself and repeatedly tapped his compass. There was no way they could be in the Haro Straight, which was east of where they were supposed to be going, and none of the islands in that direction looked like this.

“Hey… Matt? Where are we exactly?”

Matthew didn’t answer but gave Alfred that strange, tilted owl-like expression that said he should know exactly where they were, before shoving himself toward the shore.

Alfred stared at the paddle in his hands for a moment before putting the end of it in the water and pushed back, moving forward just behind his brother.

Something in his throat prevented him from calling out Matt’s name.

Instead.

A quiet breath of cold air through chapped lips.

The water seemingly guided his kayak to shore by some unseen, subtle force.

They pulled up on the beach in silence, the pebbles crunching under their kayaks and the summer water bit like frost at Alfred’s ankles.

As they stepped ashore, there was a shadow in the fog, a shape with edges out of focus and fuzzy.

Something foreboding and wrong.

He could feel his father’s hand on his shoulder pulling him away, begging him to return to the sea.

Frozen in his spot, Alfred held his breath but Matthew was no longer beside him.

Turning back, he saw the fog coming in, beginning to swallow the pebbly beach and driftwood that stretched a mile long.

The fog felt thicker than before, curling and reaching, and the forms of drowned spirits took shape.

A chill from his youth tenderly caressed his cheek and Alfred bolted to the tree line.

It was instantly dark but somehow, a trail was found.

A park trail.

The wooden sign was labeled in a language he didn’t understand.

The trees creaked and groaned.

There was no wind.

Alfred looked down to his feet as he walked forward along the winding path, acutely aware that something was watching him.

Squashed Saskatoon berries lay scattered like fallen soldiers of the Great War.

He quickened his pace, only briefly eyeing the oddities that attempted to enter his field of vision.

The only one he focused on and approached was one that was this tall and lanky thing with eyes that sometimes seemed too sunken in and large for its face.

“Matthew. Hey man, talk to me. What the hell is-”

But there was that look in Matthew's eyes, the one that told Alfred he was meant to be somewhere very far away. The look that said that he was Canada above Matthew and that he, alone, was this land. A land inhabited by creatures more ancient than they could fathom that Alfred could only just barely make out in the reflection of his brother's glasses.

A look that said that they were more like them.

A feeling that crept inside them all but one that Matthew was more than accepting of letting take over.

Matt’s desperate need of a haircut curls spilled over the collar of his brightly colored windbreaker that, somehow, looked wrong on him and he must have felt the same.

Matthew’s jacket fell softly onto the leaves at his feet; his backpack was already there.

He quickly snagged Matt's hand before it could reach for anything else.

Even he couldn't always brush off the feeling the trees of Cascadia gave him. It was a blurry portion of their borders even with the six-meter divide between their forests. The further up North he went, the deeper into Canada he got until it was impossible to tell the difference. In the dense fog and even denser foliage, it was all too easy to lose yourself.

Pine needles fell like rain but the source of the shaking trees was still unknown.

But what concerned Alfred most was as he watched them fall, they never quite hit the floor. They were falling onto something, creating a shape in between a pair of burnt trees.

He tried to let his eyes glaze over it, to wait until it was on its way.

The shape of a bear began to take form.

Alfred was about ready to shove Matt back and pull out one of the flares from his pack when his brother tightened his hold, pulling Alfred back a step and telling him to stay quiet.

A scream stuck in his throat when he felt wet tentacles grab hold of his neck and there was a sudden weight on his shoulder. Matt kept his grip steady and soon the feeling was gone.

Alfred closed his eyes, willing whatever place Matthew had led them to was nothing more than a joke or bad dream. He was still in bed, they hadn’t gone out on their trip yet, he was waiting for the delicious smell of his brother’s pancakes and peameal bacon to rouse him from bed to start the day.

Something breathed on his arm.

Alfred jerked his hand from Matt’s hold and turned to face him, glaring. “Okay Mattie, this is all super funny. Har har, good one. You got me. Let’s bounce already, yeah? I’ve had more than enough spooks. It’s not even October man.” He took a step away and rubbed his eyes, hoping his normally unseen world would return.

“Alfred, I’m sorry I-”

“Eat my shorts dickweed! I’m going home!”

The worn path was found once more and along with it, the smell of a cooking fire lead him away from the sorry excuse for a joke Matt had set up.

Seeing that humble cabin built with red cedar bark was such a reliving site that Alfred hardly paid any mind to the blood-red smoke puffing steadily out of the chimney. Two women paused in their daily chores as he approached, the closer one smiling at Alfred from ear to ear. “Are you lost young man?” she called sweetly; her clothes matched the home behind her.

He was about to go into the details of how his brother got them both lost when the second woman stepped out from behind the sheet that had been hung to dry.

Her face was all bone and skulls were attached to her belt.

Alfred found his scream just as Matthew appeared at his side, yanking on his arm, encouraging him to run.

“Come and devour them,” the inviting woman commanded.

“Eat, eat, eat,” Alfred could hear being called from snapping mouths, leaves crunching in step with their own in chase.

Matthew wouldn’t let him turn to face whatever the source was.

His ears picked up the fluttering of massive bird wings and the cries of a starving raven, Matt’s encouraging voice only just loud enough to be heard above them.

Branches cut their cheeks as they ran from the trees, soon they were skittering on the pebbled beach, fumbling back inside their kayaks.

Alfred eyed Matt carefully as the fog swallowed them up once more, fearing the feral part of him that lurked just under the surface- even if this particular trip had only been an elaborate joke.

The forests of the North were made of death, regardless, the smell of decay was hidden in the rain and pine.

Even when they’re miles away, back into a new and modern stretch of water, forest, and fog, the lure of the unknown never truly faded.

“We’re not so different from them Alfred,” Matt said quietly as they tied their kayaks to the roof of his car. “I know you try and forget that.”

Alfred secured the knot tightly, the rope burning his palm. “And you remember it a little too often.”

He wouldn’t admit to the depths of his fears.

It wasn’t just the creatures that haunted humanity that unnerved his very core.

It was the fact that Matthew was right.

He caught his reflection in the side mirror.

His eyes really were too blue to be human.

No wonder he had been tried as a witch.

#hws america #hws canada #hetalia #writing #ace writes

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dilfwaynes · 3 years

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durante la notte

summary: natasha always deals the cards first, but always ends up being the first to fold them as well.

✎ word count ; 1.5k

⚢ pairings ; natasha romanoff x fem!reader

genre ; smut

✗ warnings ; mean power bottom!reader, undertones of elitism, strap on use, degradation, pwp.

a/n ; natasha x Italian!reader cos i was finishing italian hw while writing this and thinking in Italian LOL not edited !!

translation: fangool / go do it in an ass, / marone / damn it / il mio piccolo tesoro / my little treasure.

you lick your lips slowly, lifting the petite glass and bringing it to your lips, tasting the rich krug flat on your tongue. fingers wrapped around tightly as you watch natasha flaunt around the bar end of the restaurant, collude deep with a full view of her little display with your table only a few feet away. rolling your eyes you pick up the cigarette pack aside from you, fumbling down your drink and lighting it up, blowing out the thick french scent smoke.

“excuse me, could you please put out your cigarette,” your eyes flash towards the man some tables away, eyebrow cocked in annoyance and distrain. you stare blankly, tapping away the burnt ashes off the tip and turning your attention back to natasha.” ma’am.”

“marone! leave the fucking smoking section then!” you snap towards their direction, eyes harden and un amusement fading to anger fast, glaring. “proletariat, fangool!” shifting back to the russian, catching her eyes and bridging the intensity of her green, inhaling once more. sliding the champagne again to your lips, raising an eyebrow over the rim with jealousy burning in with the alcohol. are you finished with your game?

natasha smirked over her slightly hauled shoulder, your expression lamely and stoic but faded underneath is the whole reason she’s continuing on her show. still, she peers at you from the corner of her while fingers shims around the younger girl’s arm, your rings grasping tightly against the glass, the cartier sleek love band, and the golden diamond aside it as well a panthère slimed around your wrist. truthfully you looked good enough to eat with the white silk pressed on your tanned skin, giving you more of a glow with the golden accessories.

brushing back the stray hair behind the girl’s ear she watched as your mien fallen and a rushed snap of your fingers has the waiter ushering you the bill, eyes set on natasha as you mindless throw money for the check and tip.

“natasha,” waving a hand behind your back to beckon her to tail from a distance, and like always she obeyed. following you into the car, muttering something in Italian before the chauffeur starts the car. you turn your attention back on her calmly, nodding before reaching a hand and yanking her head to rear in your pleasing.” what a show you’ve put on tonight beloved, but i didn’t care much for your co-star.” you laugh softly, pulling her upper to meet her eyes. your nails running along the back of her neck with your lips attaching to the base of her throat.

“but i don’t think it’ll do well,” you sigh, the mock of sympathetic patent with a now pout in place. natasha’s lips quirk upwards, deciding to play along.” that’s mean to say baby.” her eyes trained on your lips, the red curling into a pleasing smile, the hold within her hair loosens, and a soothing hand pushing her streaks back.

“don’t worry, you can be the main star of my show,” you say quietly, intertwining your hand with hers and bringing it down to your thigh under your dress, your gaze flickering back towards her.” and mine will be a lot better and successful.” your fist tightening withholding her hair once more and roughly pushing her towards you, slamming your lips against hers with a smothering kiss.

“but i don’t know if you quite deserve it, touching that filthy puttana,” you whisper nearing the shell of her ear, voice edged with a low seething.”i shouldn’t even let you touch me. i bet if i let you, you’ve spread that whore out and fucked her, hm? or would you have done that if i wasn’t there?” your words meant to come out as teasing but natasha heard the undertones, and she knew you knew, that she knew.

“no,” natasha lets out shakily, holding back a groan of the feeling of your teeth nipping at her exposed neck.”don’t want her, just you.” your head falls against her shoulder, smoothing a kiss on the blade.

“just me?” your relaxed features now sneering, your grip a little tighter at the movement of the car stopping. nodding,” just you.”

giving her another kiss before opening the door, an unspoken command for her to follow you into the penthouse. kicking off the satin heels, peering over to the entrance where natasha stands.”c’mere il mio piccolo tesoro,” you coo, tapping a spot for her to join, smiling to ace the act. natasha doesn’t need to see the calm before the storm to understand how this is gonna play out. draping your legs over her lap, catching her face between your fingers,”such a pretty girl,” you murmur, shaking your head.”too bad she’s such a little fucking slut.” you finish, though the tone still mockingly sweet, your smile replaced with a lazy grin now.

without any response from natasha you shift towards her lap, your legs between her waist and gripping her thighs with a bruising kiss, wrapping her legs further around her waist. alining your sex to brush right against her bare thigh, sighing out at the friction, the thin panties the only thing keeping your pussy from her warm skin.”stay put.” you hiss, sealing it with a pinch to her arm, laughing at her little groan of pain. striding towards the chest tucked into the corner, picking up the silicone and a small bottle of lube.

“make yourself useful for once and lube that bitch up,” you laugh at your own words and take no mind to natasha, she rolls her eyes stripping herself of her top, watching your little tease show of taking off the silk, and as expected a matching white set underneath. rolling her hips up through the harness, squeezing some of the lube into her palms and running it along the fake length. lifting her gaze and meeting your steps to her, your bra unclasped and somewhere thrown but your panties remain. she cocks her eyebrow downwards, silently asking why they’re still on. you don’t reply, simply pooling them down, and reaching for natasha’s face by her jaw and shoving the expensive lace into her mouth, very well enjoying her wide eyes of curiosity and then surprise.”don’t give me those eyes, i don’t wanna hear you after that shit you pulled with that puttana.”

slowly sinking yourself on the strap, slapping a looming hand of the red head underneath you, taking the cock with a burning stretch leaving you aching, moaning when you feel the tip hilts, natasha drooling at seeing the fake cock poke out some from your stomach. waiting a few moments before lightly grinding on the strap.”see, if you weren’t some stupid bitch i would’ve let you fucked me,” you tell her, grabbing her shoulders for support, rising your hips up and slamming them down again. natasha grits her teeth, itching to touch you, kiss you, feel you literally anything.”please.” she muffled out.

you chuckle at her barely audible beg, her eyes glossy and her voice so whiny, you loved her like this. you decide to throw her a bone and grab one of her hands to give some attention to your tits. speeding up your pace with the added pressure of natasha tugging your nipples between her fingers.”fuck, fuck, fuck play with my clit baby.” you gasp out, your eyelids fluttering with the coil in your stomach ready to snap. podding her thumb against your clit, watching your face falls into pleasure and soon you’re crying out and gushing all over her lap. alcohol always made you extra sensitive.

ripping the makeshift gag of your panties from her mouth, she stares at you for a few seconds.”i’m fucking you at least once tonight.”

“if you can even do that right beloved.”

your words get stuck in your throat as your back drops to the couch, natasha between your legs and pushing the tip inside, arousal pulling at the slick coating the strap. holding your hips still she snaps hers, filling you up. her mouth dry seeing tears peak the corner of your eyes, your legs shake around her already and she hasn’t even moved yet. supporting her body weight with her hand against the side of your head, grabbing the arm of the couch and thrusting up, her grunt going straight to your core. she smirks at the strings of high pitched moans she’s getting out of you, your nails dragging across her back and digging in, your legs beginning to shake uncontrollably with the sound of natasha fucking you, the couch dampening under the pressure of natasha’s hips against yours.”don’t stop, i’m gonna cum you better fucking make me cum.” leaning down and smashing her lips down to yours, reaching a hand to where you both connect and rubbing circles on your clit.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, your grip on natasha unbreakable and your body shaking under her from your second orgasm of the night. giving out a few more trusts to ride out your climbmax, kissing the side of your temple and staying inside you. panting slightly, burying her face inbetween your neck and the Italian leather.

“does this make me forgiven?”

“we’ll see.”

#natasha x reader #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff headcanon #mcu smut

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oumaheroes · 3 years

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hii its bougie <3 if you're still taking hc requests, i was wondering if you'd have thoughts on something that's been on my mind for a while. i was interested in the nuance to english culture due to regional differences. eg.,dinner being called "tea" in the north of england, rugby being more popular in the south, the difference in how scones with jam and cream are enjoyed in Devon and Cornwall?? or how certain english accents are perceived as... "less attractive" i guess (the black country accents are unpopular apparently?) -- you'd probably know more about these particularities than me ;u;

i was wondering how these cultural differences might map onto hws England's character, and how they might influence his attitudes and behaviours. because there's such a clearly defined stereotype of the english that i think shape people's expectations of what the english are like, i usually think that Arthur usually consciously acts according to what counts as positive interpretations of himself. however, i love nuanced and somewhat subversive interpretations of his character, and am very curious if you might have any ideas on how these kind of internal regional differences might shape him.

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Bougieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <3

I’m not gonna lie this sent me down a RABBIT HOLE of thoughts, so hang on tight cos we're gonna get messy.

Accents:

Let’s start with my personal favourite, so excuse me whilst I geek out for a second. I’ve gone into this area already in this headcanon, but I personally see England being a very proud little dragon regarding English accents, those both native and non-native to the British Isles. Focusing just on accents within England for this post, the way Arthur himself sees them, (regarding class and general preference), comes a lot down to how I see him feeling about language and the unification of England in general.

England is a tiny country. It’s really teeny, compared to some, and yet holds an incredible number of regional accents and dialects (from digging about the internet for a good source, I keep finding numbers ranging from 37 to 43). There are a number of reasons for this, but the one that I love the most is that accents are influenced by the previous/ influential other languages spoken in a given area. Accents on the East of England are more influenced by Viking invaders, both phonologically and via the dialectal words used, and accents/ dialects in the West are more influenced by Welsh, for example.

Accents and dialects tell the history of a place, all who ever came there and influenced it to some degree. The map of English accents is a patchwork quilt of old cultures and people now lost to time, but their ways of speaking have been preserved in the modern tongue. The old English kingdoms might now be mere counties- Kent, Essex, Sussex, East Anglia, etc- they may not have their own influence or language these days as they used to, but their old ways have been imprinted on their people of today whether they know it or not and they carry pieces of the past in their words and how they speak them. Older speakers of the Northern English dialects liek the Yorkshire dialect still use ‘thou/thee’ where this has fallen out in other areas, the Midlands and parts of the South-East still keep the ‘-n’ ending for possessive pronouns (‘yourn’ instead of ‘yours’, ‘ourn’ instead of ‘ours’), and there’s even some linguistic research into how Brittonic, the ancestor of Modern Welsh, influenced English structure and phonology (for references, see notes at the end).

Back to England the person (to contain myself slightly), his regional accents are a story of himself, his history being kept alive in all of its variety every day. He doesn’t hold a classist view of a ‘good’ or ‘bad’ accent because he knows why they’re all there- what languages and people influenced them and how these events affected him- the older generations now lost and forgotten being kept alive in the smallest of phonemes.

Every dialect, every accent, and every language tells the story of a people, from the smallest phonological marker right up to a language as a whole and England takes comfort and pride in his dialects and accents’ longevity and variety. He is as much of the North as he is the South, as much of the East as the West and a patchwork man born of patchwork cultures it makes no sense for him to favour one particular accent over another.

That being said, he is aware that there is a common cultural stance on accents as well as an opinion regarding ‘ugly’ ones, ‘common’ ones, and ‘classy’ ones, but he himself doesn’t partake in these ideas. I like to think that a nation takes on the speech of the people and the area they’re in, matching the person they speak to or the area they visit to relate to their people. So, for me a Chav Arthur exists as much as a Brummie one does, or a Scouser, or a Geordie, or a Cockney. They’re all English, and thus they’re all a part of him.

Class

I have to include this one, if only to touch on it lightly regarding accents and dialects. Class does influence which words you speak, arguably just as much as which accent (this is known as a sociolect). Although I said that England adopts the accent of whatever area he’s in, or whomever he’s talking to if they’re English, the class people are will also affect which words he choses to use.

Here’s a short example from here:

'It is pudding for the upper class. Dessert is sometimes used by upper middles, but afters and sweets very clearly put you below stairs.'

Have some more!

Upper class: Spectacles, Lavatory or loo, Die, Napkin, Sofa

Middle class: Glasses, Toilet , Pass on, Serviette, Settee or couch

(Working class is a mix but harder to find sources for).

This is where England treads a fine line. It could be that he again adopts more of a class lexicon regarding who he is speaking to, matching his people word for word. However, England is not unaware of the affects of class, regardless of how he himself feels, and also although class snobbery and divide frustrate him, he cannot deny using this understanding to benefit himself, which also conforms to how his own people behave. (I myself have, many times, diluted and filtered my speech to be seen as ‘better’).

Want to be seen as more reliable and powerful? Want to be taken more seriously? RP and Estuary English (a lot more so these days), hold undeniable sway and England is not above adopting a manner of speaking to come across ‘better’ or more polite, or a more ‘common’ accent to fit in with the working classes. I think of England as leaning more towards a working-class mindset- he’s very hands on, very up for and used to manual labour and this particular English class has always made up the bulk of his population. It makes no sense for a nation, who represents all of their people, to have a snide view or a preference for a particular group and England as a person I see is someone who does not enjoy the foppery and false airs of aristocracy.

That being said, England is an intelligent man. He knows how to work a room and use a crowd to his advantage, knows what must be done and what he needs to do to achieve a goal and if this entails courting the upper classes for a time then he will do so. He’s adepts at switching himself like a chameleon, blending his behaviours, accent, and dialect to match who he’s talking to to achieve a goal or to fit in with someone’s perception of him, or to gain influence or prestige. He also doesn’t hate his upper classes- they are of him too, and the middle and working class have their own prejudices and ideas against the others. But he doesn’t adopt a stereotypical distain of lower classes because to him, it really doesn’t make much sense.

Abroad, this need to cultivate a particular perception defiantly comes under greater pressure. RP and Estuary English are more well know, more heard and taught, and more recognisably ‘British’, and so these are what he uses when speaking English to other nations or foreigners, either wanting to uphold an image of himself (more so in the Victorian/ Edwardian period than nowadays) or just for the ease of being understood.

Regional Differences

Okay, this one is a lot more fun. Does England put in his milk first or last when making tea? Does he put jam first, or clotted cream when having a scone? Does he have chips with gravy, or curry sauce? Does he have dinner at 6, or 9? To marmite, or not to marmite.

Ah, that is the question, and England does not know the answer. Does he do what he does because that’s what he likes, or because that’s what his people do? He didn’t grow up with these habits, after all, they’re all relatively recent in his lifetime, and so these habits are defiantly things he cultures for a particular audience.

I’m not really sure if the above preferences are class based, (well, milk first when making tea is argued to be, but I can't find any sources I'd consider entirely credible. I put the ones I did find in the notes below, in case any one's interested), so it’s hard to get a sense of which one to use. Overall, it doesn’t matter which you do and neither is right or wrong, but the English feel strongly about them, one way or another, and often Arthur the man isn’t sure at all which one he himself actually thinks is better.

Food in another sense though is something he can be surer of. A Cornish pastie not from Cornwall is not worth eating, nor is a Bakewell tart outside of Bakewell. England can be very particular about this sort of thing and enjoys maintaining and supporting the ‘original’ flavour or recipe of a thing where he can, considering this to be the ‘best’. Sally Lunn Buns from Bath, Gypsy tarts from Kent, Eccles Cakes from Eccles.

England wants to preserve his food and culture and has what could be considered a snobbish view on the ‘best’ way of creating or eating his national foods. Some things he is more lenient with: he will eat cheddar cheese, whether or not it is from Cheddar, same from Cumberland sausages not from Cumbria. But he certainly has a preference and he is not afraid to voice this when asked for his opinion.

Okay, we're done

Phew! This had me digging out my old linguistic student brain. To anyone who has made it this far down, gosh golly miss molly thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed the ride, and especially @prickyy who was kind enough to want to hear my opinions about all of this <3

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Notes:

Brittonic influence on English:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brittonicisms_in_English

https://scholar.google.co.uk/scholar_url?url=http://journals.mountaintopuniversity.edu.ng/English%2520Language/Celtic%2520Influences%2520in%2520English%2520A%2520Re-evaluation.pdf&hl=en&sa=X&ei=2ohDYdq3BoWImwHn6oWQAg&scisig=AAGBfm29zTF0FBCpd1KqDiAbjM-0X7nfoA&oi=scholarr (PDF)

https://scholar.google.co.uk/scholar_url?url=http://www.oppi.uef.fi/wanda/unicont/abstracts/14ICEHL_MF.pdf&hl=en&sa=X&ei=2ohDYdq3BoWImwHn6oWQAg&scisig=AAGBfm3UvOXbJEb0b51J73eBnTJvgGaQOA&oi=scholarr (PDF)

Sociolects and class distinction within language in English:

https://languageawarenessbyrosalie.weebly.com/social-dialects.html

https://www.grin.com/document/313937

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/U_and_non-U_English

Milk in tea first and the potential class reason:

https://www.theteaclub.com/blog/milk-in-tea/

https://qmhistoryoftea.wordpress.com/2017/05/11/milk-in-first-a-miffy-question/

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rouiyan · 3 years

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𝘚𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘐𝘎𝘏𝘛 𝘖𝘍𝘍 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘍𝘐𝘌𝘓𝘋 [ 𝘭.𝘥𝘩 ]

synopsis: we’re all sprinting towards one thing or another. the players to the ball, mark to his class, and haechan right to you.

✧ soccer player!haechan x (fem.) reader + best friend!mark ✧ high school au, best friends to loverz, inspired by heather (conan gray)

✧ genres : some fluff, some angst, some pining what’s new ✧ word count : 2.3k ✧ disclaimer : swearing

✧ author’s note — wrote this in ap stats, probably should have been paying attention instead bc i can't figure out how to do the hw for the life of me.

"did you see y/n today?"

haechan thinks, by the sound of the voice, that it's mark who's speaking. he pulls the rest of the sweatshirt past his head, "no, did you?" haechan's grabbing for his socks, he swears he stuffed them in the front pocket of his backpack. "that's why i'm asking, idiot. she told me she would be here today." a tongue of frustration juts out from haechan's mouth, he hopes it just looks like he's agitated about his missing socks and not the fact that you always tell mark those things, always mark and never him.

haechan is out of the locker room in seconds, sneakers slipped on without socks. he's adjusting the hood of the sweatshirt, tucking his locks under the material, when he sees you lingering by the bleachers. you smile sheepishly when you see the boy coming from the locker rooms, "somehow, i thought it started at four and i thought i got here early but your coach told me you guys just finished." haechan can't help but laugh, so that's why you weren't here, "and we won, too. did he tell you that?"

he's by your side now, seated, though his feet are planted on the ground while yours are swinging back and forth, "he did tell me that, congratulations haechan, wish i could've seen you score today." haechan tucks a lip under his teeth, now's not the time for him to be so obvious, not when it's just you and him. he thinks that yet, his stares linger on you for a little longer than normal, his fingers are fiddling with the ridges of the bleachers, and his cheeks host the brightest hue of cherry red.

"hey, y/n, where were you today?" haechan's nose scrunches at an emerging mark, he really thought he could have the moment with you. mark approaches and sits on the other side of you. captain mark lee, haechan notes with shrewd annoyance, is wearing your sweater, his favorite of yours, the one with the worn polyester fabric that's pilling all over but still holds warmth snuggly. the one that haechan's been wanting to wear since day one.

mark swings his legs as well and haechan watches as you point it out, giggling now that mark is trying to swing in sync to your own pace. "wanna come over? my mom's been asking you to come over for dinner," marks eyes are on you, haechan can see that much, but he also misses the way your own eyes shift to himself. and what haechan doesn't see, mark does, and his lip twitches into a knowing smile, "haechan, you should come too, my mom misses you."

the boy himself is already in over his head and passing up the offer is the only way he sees to escape the despair that comes with being a third wheel, "no thanks, i have a shit ton of homework to do today." your hum in response is mixed with an undertone of a sigh, one that haechan is too sidetracked to notice. he takes his leave, "well, i'll see you two tomorrow i guess."

you and mark sit in silence for the minutes after his leave, mark sneaking small glances at your ever-changing expression, an open book to all your thoughts. "next time, y/n, next time."

well shit, maybe mark wasn't as clueless as you pegged him to be.

in agitation, mark shoves the last of his books into his backpack, class is about to start soon and if he doesn't get going now, well then he might as well give up his perfect attendance, no tardy record. haechan leans against the locker next to his own, a seemingly bored expression on display to hide the inner rumblings of his thoughts.

"so how was dinner last night, did you guys miss me?" haechan's trying to come off as nonchalant, he hates it when he has to pry just to satiate his curiosities. mark shuts his locker, swinging his backpack across one shoulder, "uh, dinner didn't happen and no, i didn't miss you but i bet y/n did." haechan's left in confusion on all fronts, "what do you mean it didn't happen? why would she miss me- wait, why did you not miss me?"

"well y/n said she was busy all of a sudden, something like that. as for-" the bells rings, signaling the end of passing period, and effectively cutting off the answers to all of haechan's worries. marks eyes widen and before he can even catch the boy by his arms, to shake and spill the words out of him, he's already sprinting down the emptying halls.

haechan sighs. he should be sprinting too but he's already late, might as well walk. the campus grounds are vast and he decides to take a stroll outside, the much longer way to his physics class. haechan is passing a few classes on his left, all of them filled with the chatter of students before a teacher begins their lectures, but there's one class that catches his eye. the window into the ceramics class reveals a clear view of you, eyebrows furrowed and trying to shape a little figure on the table before you. you've told him many times before that ceramics was your least enjoyed of all your courses, that you had taken it simply because you needed an art credit and while that might've been the reason you'd signed up, haechan can tell by the way you handle the little mold of clay, that you had stayed for much different reasons.

he thinks to tease you of it later but it's then during lunch where he stops himself because before he even so much as reaches the table your group frequents, there you are, showing the little figurine to mark, eyes glistening with pride and joy. "i think i did quite well this time, i even got praised." as haechan comes close, he sees the clay figure in full clarity for what it is, an ambiguous sitting shape with a heart cradled in its lap, lumpy in certain spots but emanating in the care and thoughtfulness with which it was made.

haechan slides into the seat across from you. "look," you sound softly to him, holding out the little figure in both your hands, "do you like it?" haechan swallows thickly when he looks up from your hands to your eyes, he sees the way they light up, he hopes. wordlessly, he nods, a small smiles tugs at his lips. he likes it, he really does so he questions, "what inspired you to make it?" it's in the way that you immediately eye mark, and the way that mark immediately hides his oncoming giggle, that haechan relinquishes his hopes.

mark walks you to class after your lunch break that day, he's a grade higher but a thousand times dumber, you think. "are you insane? why would you laugh at that specific moment?" in between small giggles, mark does his best to provide a reply, "you should've just told him that he was the one that inspired you." smacking his elbow, you purse your lips, "but then he'd know!"

the older boy stops walking for a second and you're five steps ahead when you notice. you turn. "what now, mark?" he holds a mischievous glint in his eyes, "he'd know what?" now his eyebrows are making little squiggly lines by his hairline and you take a few steps back to drag him by the arm. flushing, you whisper, figuring he already knew as much, "he'd know i like him."

if mark is considered your best friend and potential crush, then what about him? possibly also a best friend, though he could only hope you would talk to him a bit more, spend a bit more time with him, make more conversation with him during breaks. potential crush was for sure out of the picture right? the way you look at mark, the way you share you everything with mark, objects and secrets and everything in between, haechan isn't sure he can say the same for himself. he texts mark anyways. tell y/n ur busy, something bout soccer.

haechan's out the door a minute and a half before the bell rings, his teacher yelling at him to come back. he doesn't give a shit. mark always walks you home, he always does and haechan is so fucking fed up with it because he himself lives closer to you so why should he get to walk you home.

he arrives at the door to your last class just as the bell signals the end of the school day. there's only enough time for three deep breaths, panting breaths, before the door to your classroom is propped open and students begin filing out.

"y/n, over here!" he calls. your eyes widen at the sound of his voice and you turn to it, a smile already lifting the corners of your mouth. you're walking side by side with him, and haechan starts leading in the direction of your locker, despite needing to go to his own. "i can walk you home today." you turn your head to him, "what do you mean? i usually walk with-"

"mark, i know," he says it with a disclosed derision, "he's busy, had to go talk to coach or something, i don't know. but i can walk you, plus my house is just two streets down, remember?" he watches in anticipation as you retrieve your phone from your bag. his eyes do their best to peer over and he sees your lockscreen light with a notification from mark. "oh, yeah he said he's busy with soccer stuff." haechan's lip quirk in victory, his plan unfolding itself into perfection.

"can we go to my locker first though? i need to get some stuff, and we're on the way." he nods as if it wasn't in his intention to head in this direction and for that reason. he merely disregards the need to go to his locker. who cares if he has to bring a whole ass chemistry textbook home if he gets to go home with you.

it isn't until he's at your front steps that he musters up the courage. you're in the middle of keying in the pin numbers to your door pad when he speaks up, "hey y/n?" you give a hum in response, messing up the last two digits after hearing him voice your name. you abandon your attempts, turning to look at the questioning boy. "would you like to come watch my match next week?"

you take a step down so that you're two above from where he's standing, now the same height as him. frowning, "of course. i'm going to see you and mar-"

it seems that haechan really doesn't want to hear that name come from your mouth today because he interrupts you yet again, "yeah, but i'm asking if you'd want to come to watch me." your lips part and shut in search of what to say. haechan nudges a little further, "i want you to come watch me play, would you want to?"

you release a breath, biting down a smile, you manage a nod within all your flusteredness. your voice, a bare peep, "i want to," gives haechan all the courage he needs to grab one of your hands to give it a little squeeze before muttering a, "see you," and taking his leave. haechan's turning the corner out of your driveway when he sneaks a glance before the fence blocks his view of you. his heart hurls at the sight of you, still on your front steps, face buried in your hands. even from all the way here, the bright red flush of your cheeks can be seen through your fingers.

no one knows why that one boy on the field is scoring goals left and right. no one knows except you and him. from the moment haechan saw you on the bleachers, the other team was done for. it isn't even about impressing you anymore, it's not about making you proud. it's not a crush, it's these stupid feelings that never go away, never fade with time, or any amount of effort, at least, not in the knowledge that you are equally his as he is yours. it's not a crush, it's the sickening feeling in his gut when he sees you with someone other than himself, with mark, when he sees that sweater on mark instead of himself. it's not a crush, it's the way he feels the need to be with you all the damn time, the lingering feelings from whenever you leave his side that tell him that moments spent without you would be so much better if you were just there. haechan moves on the field with full conviction that it's not just a crush, it's love.

and so as the last whistle of the game blows, their team securing the win with haechan's last goal, he runs, no sprints, straight off the field to where you're seated in the stands. he brushes past all the people with hushed apologies and it's only when he's right in front of you does he realize how frenzied he likely seemed. he doesn't mind for more than a second though, because you've stood up and laced your arms around his shoulders, fingers on the back of his neck. he embraces you back and the kiss he gives to your cheek is something that just feels so natural and close to home. his forehead is on yours when he asks, his voice a bare minimum, "y/n, will you be my girlfriend?"

it isn't you that answers, rather it's a mark lee with a loud, "FUCK YEAH."

✧ end note — hey anon babe who requested this. apologies for making it fem. reader, i know you didn't specify. if you would like me to reupload with gender neutral reader, then send an ask and i'll be more than happy to. ♡

#nct #nct haechan #nct haechan fics #nct scenarios #nct fics #haechan x reader #haechanxreader #haechan x y/n #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan imagine #haechan fic #requested #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

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bokettochild · 3 years

Note

So, I was wondering if you could write a one-shot of Linkle(HW) and Wild having a crossbow/archery competition?

This ficlet could be read as taking place after Chapter 14 of The Blood Between Us, or can work as a stand alone. Either way works!

(If you have fic requests feel free to shoot them over, I'm always open!)

The kid had a bow.

He was sitting out in the courtyard, looking between the standard maintenance kit and his bow with a confused expression on his face as he sat on one of the resting benches spaced around the edges of the shooting range.

A smile pulled at her face.

Link was back home, but he was in the infirmary, recovering from injuries and a panicked faint that resulted in his being ordered to rest for the next few days. That of course meant that she couldn’t torture her twin, but he had brought along eight other heroes with him, two of which she knew on sight and few others she had recognized from illustrations and paintings that could be found throughout the royal studies.

It was good to see Mask again, and the Sailor too, but they weren’t her targets right now.

No, she wanted to talk to this one.

Link called him ‘Wild’, and while she wasn’t sure how she felt about calling him that, she was eager to get to know him. Link had said that the kid was more difficult than her (it was said fondly, but she saw the exhaustion in his gaze) and she was eager to see who could have possibly pushed her brother further than she herself had.

“You know how to use that thing?” She called, strolling over with a grin pulling at her features. Cornflower blue hues turned to stare up at her, curiosity shining clearly as he took her in.

“I’m a decent shot.” He shrugged, noncommittal. “I handle most of the shooting and hunting for our group anyways.”

She cocked a brow. Link had definitely said the kid was a master marksman, and the arrows hanging from the targets positioned around them seemed to confirm that.

It’s nice, Linkle chuckled to herself, that there was finally a hero who used a bow more than a sword. Take that Link! Heroes don’t need swords to win a war!

“I’m partial to a bow myself.” She muses aloud, noting the way the kid looks up at her with sudden interest. “Best shot in Hyrule in fact.” She smirks. “I can kick my baby brother’s ass.”

Wild chuckles softly. “Baby brother, huh? I thought he said you two were twins?”

She waves a hand dismissively. “I’m the older twin, not that he’d ever agree on that point, but even so,” Her grin stretches even wider. “I know for a fact that he can’t shoot straight to save his life.”

The kid is full on giggling now as he nods, leaning lightly on his bow as the laughter shakes his body. “Oh, he’s terrible! Even Time can outshoot him, and he’s only got one eye!”

“Huh, why aren’t I surprised?” Linkle shakes her head, hands coming to rest on her hips. “Say,” She’s been meaning to direct the conversation this way since she stepped out here to find the kid, but she’s still a bit jumpy about it. She wants to connect with these heroes, the younger ones especially, and if Wild is a special case, then, well, who’s to know that? “How’d you like to compare skills? One on one, my bow against yours?”

She’s said something right and she knows it, at least if the tell-tale glimmer in the kid’s eyes is to be believed.

“What’s the target?”

“’Targets’, you mean?” She arches a curved brow, a smirk pulling at her features as the kid’s grin grows in kind. “Let me think...”

Link would kill her. Link would absolutely scold her and demand that she ceases her recklessness, but he’s always been the more- law abiding of the two of them. And a goody two-shoes. Anyways, Wild seems on board with it!

(She can almost hear Link scolding her for corrupting the kid.)

The two of them start on the roof of the castle (yes, the roof), her logic? Link is less likely to see them if they are above his head and therefore won’t be there to stop them (he’s supposed to be in bed, but even if he is a law-abiding citizen most of the time, he’s terrible about listening when he’s told to rest).

Their course will take them over the roof, their targets being the various targets set up below them in the various training yards of the castle. There is no pattern to follow when hitting the targets, but they aren’t allowed to stop in order to shoot, and if either one pauses for more than ten seconds than they immediately lose a point.

There’s the usual scoring system for the targets themselves of course, but they’ve agreed to have trick shots count for more.

Hero and heroine exchange grins and a handshake as they stand on one of the spires, and then they’re off.

She has the advantage of familiarity with the territory, the roofs being her chosen path of getting around since the halls of the castle itself are too twisted and confusing for her to actually bother with, but Wild lives up to his name, and he’s an agile kid, with balance better than a cat and speed that she envies. Never mind, she’s got the advantage of a crossbow, he has to do everything manually with his hunter’s bow.

Their first shots bolt down at almost the same second, colliding midair as a scowl is shared over the rooftops. She almost stops right then, but she forces herself to keep moving, repositioning and shooting again, her arrow flying true and landing near the center of the first target.

Wild doesn’t bother trying again, he moves on to the next target, shooting and hitting with an ease that assures her that she’ll actually have some proper competition for once.

After the fifth target is hit the both of them are already antsy to show off their skills, and the trick shots begin. There’s all sorts of flair and fuss she can use to make a show of herself, and below them, soldiers have gathered to cheer them on. Most know her, and they cheer as they watch her land from a backflip after hitting a target from midair, but there's a good few who cheer on Wild too; most of them have grudge against her for some reason, but there are a few she recognizes that simply seem genuinely impressed by the kid’s skills.

She can’t help but whistle in appreciation herself when the kid lets off three arrows in one shot, hitting an equal number of targets from in the air before he drops down to the roof below, skidding only an instant before he lets off another shot and takes off across the towers.

A cackle rises in her throat as she watched his duck and weave about the rooftop.

She’s claiming this kid, never mind if Link is already attached. This kid is her absolute favorite now.

Link had Mask anyway, he’ll be fine.

The targets below are full of arrows by the time Wild makes a mistake, the kids foot sliding too far off of the rooftop as he makes a landing. Below them, soldiers and servants alike gasp and shout in horror as the kid scrabbles for a hold on the roof, bow falling to the side as his nails scrape across the smooth tile.

Link is gonna kill her.

Linkle’s feet skid against the tile as she rushes over, a tower still sitting between them on the corner of the roof, but if she aims right, she might just...

Her feet barely clear the edge of the roof as she leaps the gap, and a heavy breath escapes her as she does so. They don’t need two people hanging off the edge.

Wild’s face is screwed up in a combination of irritation and fear as he fights for a hold, but he only has a moment longer to wait before her hands are catching ahold of his and pulling him up. The kid may be around her size, but he’s light, and she’s strong, he shoots up over the ledge, slamming into her and sending both of them tumbling along the tiles.

A heavy breath sounds from beside her as a few cheers echo from down below.

“Thanks.” Wild smiles at her, face flushed but beaming as he looks over to her. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” She waves him off. “I’ve done the same thing too many times to count. Link’s chewed me out for it more’n that though.”

Cornflower blue twinkles with mischief. “Thank Hylia he doesn’t know what we’re up to then, huh?”

“Don’t go thanking the goddesses too soon.”

Two blond head shoot up at once as the voice calls out from below and the kid pales considerably.

“The two of you want to get down here, or do I have to try and climb up?” The voice is deep, deeper than her brother, and it vibrates with the country twang that she and her brother had long since lost in their years in the city (not that he’d ever admit to having an accent).

“Coming, Twi.” Wild calls down, flushed and still shaking a bit, but there’s a tremor in his voice that she somehow knows isn’t from fear. His shoulders shake slightly as he turns a manic grin to her. “Last one down takes the blame.” And before she has a chance to respond or even pull herself up the kid is climbing down from the roof he had just been hanging off of, hands letting go of the ledge suddenly as a soft ‘thump’ is heard from below.

“Heeey, Twi...”

“Kid, what the heck?”

“Linkle did it.”

She suppresses a snort, jumping up and darting off across the roof. No one can scold her for this if they can’t find her, and it looks like Wild’s got the situation covered just fine.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #linkle #a wild linkle appears!#wild linked universe #linked universe twilight #only briefly tho #fluffics #fic requests

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Never Alone

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How To Get Away With Murder) ft. The Keating 5

Warnings: Abuse, Abusive Relationship, Swearing, Trauma, Description of Injury

Genre: ANGST, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationship

Summary: While working on a particularly tough case in the ungodly hours of the night, whether it’s due to the lack of sleep or the sudden need to confide in another human being, Michaela admits some truths to the person no one would think she’d ever do so to - her rival Connor Walsh.

Requested by Anon and requested as a birthday present by another Anon. Happy birthday darling Anon! Thank you so much for giving me the honor of writing you a birthday present though I hope the short notice doesn’t affect the fic’s quality. I accept the most brutal of feedback, but nevertheless I hope you enjoy it! Enjoy your special day! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“You know, just because you’re still awake and staring at a document doesn’t mean you have an upper hand here. Whether you’re actually reading that file is what will determine who gets the trophy, Miss Shooting Star.“ Connor Walsh waltzes into the living room turned office of the Keating home, looking and sounding a little too refreshed for someone who has had the same amount of sleep as everyone else of the K5 - minimal. Yet, unlike his teammates, he’s still perfectly functioning, talkative and looking forward to being productive without accidentally falling off a chair after being consumed by the slumber his body is probably dying for. It probably has something to do with that cup of coffee in his hand - his tenth one today, if Michaela’s counted correctly.

“Call me that again and I’ll shoot the damn trophy at your forehead.“ Michaela hisses back at him, tired, stinging and bloodshot eyes never leaving the piece of paper she’s been holding, reading and re-reading for the past twenty minutes, never really managing to grasp the words written on it.

“Good luck taking it from Asher. The Douche has fallen asleep with it in his arms.“ Connor sinks down in one of the armchairs, leisurely picking up one of the files laid out on the coffee table, looking at it with little interest.

This time Michaela’s gaze does indeed leave the paper so it can land on her rival, as she raises an eyebrow that somewhere between shocked and offended, “That asshole’s asleep?”

“He’s not the only one.“ It’s Connor’s turn to not spare her a look while answering, “Him and Wes are as good as dead on the kitchen island. Laurel and Frank are most likely awake, but also most likely not working on the case. Well, not this case, that’s for sure.“ He chuckles at his own joke, seeing as how his correspondent found no humor in it, “So, it’s down to you and me and Bonnie if she throws us a bone, which I doubt she will.“

Annalise was very clear with what she had said. Speaking the whole truth here, the five college students weren’t really paying attention until they heard that very strictly spoken phrase: “No one leaves here until someone finds something. Anything” aka the last phrase their professor had graced them with before walking out to go meet someone important for the night. She had every right to be strict and maybe even a bit cruel to them after they all had been exhibiting typical brat behavior throughout the day. To make matters worse and the job even tougher, Annalise had instructed Frank and Bonnie to go home so the kids would really be left to their own devices. Bonnie had had enough so no amount of begging her was gonna get her to stay - it’s also been proven that no amount of voicemails are gonna get her to come back either - but Frank, solely because of Laurel, stuck around and has so far not proved to be any kind of extra help - the polar opposite, in fact, he’s been distracting them all with jokes and snide comments at how incompetent they all are. Now if that wasn’t the most hypocritical thing.

“If the pressure wasn’t on already, I’d like to remind you we have...“ Connor turns his hand over, checking his wristwatch, “less than four hours until we have to show our not-showered, sleep deprived asses in court.“

Michaela groans, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. Not that she’d ever admit it, but she was actually glad to have an overnight task, something that wouldn’t allow her to go home, but this is beginning to be too much. What others would call ‘home’ Michaela refers to as or ‘hell’. It was place she called ‘home’ at one point too, but it wasn’t long before things started going south. And by ‘south’ I mean horribly wrong and toxic. The man she thought she’d one day call fiancée and then husband has now become a monster from her worst nightmares. Having grown up in an abusive household, Michaela had always dreamed of finding a place for herself, a place she’d feel safe in. With a person who’d love her unconditionally and provide her the security she lacked growing up. And that’s what she thought she saw in Miles. She wasn’t wrong for the first few months, the fucker was good at putting up a front, putting on a show for everyone to build a positive opinion of such a disgusting human being.

The mask started falling apart shortly after Michaela moved in with him. She didn’t accept his offer without any thought, quite the contrary actually - she pondered it for a week and a half, her heart taking the win in the end. Well, her heart may have won that time but it is now in pieces. Her eyes have never cried so many tears and her skin has never bled nor been bruised so badly before. She feels broken, alone, betrayed, hurt. She feels all she felt every time she got hit as a kid. She feels like the whole world has equipped knives and guns, each with her name on them, ready to put her through torture.

And she’s got no one to tell, because no one will know what to say back. For some reason, when people are speechless they tend to say the dumbest, most hurtful crap without realizing. Hearing that on numerous occasions before, she knows what effect it’ll have on her, so she strays away from speaking up about it. She’d rather be alone and battle her demons than present those demons to someone else who will introduce new ones into her head and life.

She prefers solitude and isolation over additional torment. It’s always been an easy pick for her.

“If you don’t wanna fight this battle on your own, go fetch me a cup of coffee.“ She instructs, half-expecting the turn-down she receives immediately afterwards.

“You really think I’m gonna help you when you are the closest thing to competition I have in this group of dimwits? Go get it yourself.“

Michaela rolls her eyes, wondering why she even asked such an abomination of a question in the first place. Finding her legs too dead to take her anywhere, she remains in her spot with a heavy sigh, returning to her attempt at reading the file she and the rest of the Keating 5 five have read through a dozen times today just to find nothing off about it.

“Hey, this one’s marked twenty-three, that one on the table’s twenty-five, where’s the twenty-fourth one?“ Connor suddenly perks up suddenly, cutting the short silence that had fallen upon them. With the least amount of energy she’s managed to save up, Michaela waves the file she’s holding, blinking away the blurriness of that clouds her eyes. “Give it to me, I need to make some comparisons.”

“Come get it yourself.“ She barks back with the same amount of spite he used barely a minute ago.

Unlike her though, Connor complies, finding that file necessary for some reason despite knowing it’s useless. It’s all pointless and they’re all gonna hear it from Annalise tomorrow morning regardless. But the most they can do is keep trying - trying to prove themselves worthy of that trophy.

Getting up with the most exaggerated distaste in his movements, Connor crosses the distance between the armchair he’s been sitting in and the couch Michaela has not moved from for hours, surrounded by piles of paperwork, folders and files. Much to his surprise, she doesn’t even put up a fight, clearly having been fed up with staring at the same words and not grasping anything for half an hour at this point.

“Thank y-“ Connor is a syllable away from finishing his sarcastic statement of gratitude when his eyes land on something peculiar, he’d even call is quite worrisome - a large scar going from Michaela’s elbow to about midway down her forearm. It looks to be recent, given that there are still some dried specs of blood around it, “Holy shit....“ He mutters, carefully taking hold Michaela’s wrist as to gently turn her arm a bit more to the side in order to examine the cut, “What the hell happened to you?“

Not having realized what he was examining before, Michaela’s eyes widen when they follow his gaze and land on the very cut she spent an hour taking care of last night. That cut is the aftermath of a drunk boyfriend who wanted nothing more than a reason to start an argument with her when she got home. A reason to hurt her. Coming into work this morning, despite the high temperatures, she was stubbornly keeping a long sleeved jacket atop her shirt to keep the ugly remainder of yet another failure hidden. The relationship in and of itself is a toxic failure, but it’s built of other failures Mihaela blames herself for - she believes she fails every time he hurts her. She thinks she’s the one to blame for the failure because she couldn’t protect herself. So she feels ashamed, disgusted and is attacked by that sense of betrayal all over again.

Feeling these three emotions flooding in at the sound of Connor’s concern, she snatches her arm out of his grip, keeping the scar out of his viewpoint while her eyes scan the room, looking for the jacket she doesn’t remember discarding. “Piss off, Connor. It’s non of your business.”

If she had said something along the lines of it being an accidental injury, Connor might’ve even believed her and let the whole thing go. However, seeing hw distressed his question has made her become, he feels there’s a lot more to it than she’s letting on. So, fully aware it’s non of his business, he keeps prodding on for a reason even he himself doesn’t understand, “Maybe not, but that’s a concerning scar, you might wanna get it checked. In fact, it already looks like it’s infected with something.”

Michaela’s brows furrow, her distress growing into genuine fear as she removes the hand that’s partially covering the scar to check on it and try and see what Connor saw to lead him to make such an observation. Connor takes this opportunity to also get a better look at the cut and it doesn’t take him a while to realize what tool was used in causing it - a shard of glass.

“Michaela, it may not be my business...“

She cuts him off with hostility, “It’s not”, but her words are choked up and wavering. Her voice is shaking like she’s seconds away from bursting into tears. And Lord knows crying in front of Connor Walsh is the last thing she wants to do.

“Right, but you can’t tell me that’s an accidental cut. That looks very intentional, very straight, and very much like someone inflicted it on you.“ Seeing her barriers slowly starting to sink despite her best attempts at keeping them up, he keeps his pursuit of his secret, for the first time genuinely curious to get to the bottom of what’s troubling Michaela and not a single ulterior motive in his mind. “You can’t tell me that I’m wrong. I’ve had my fair share of glass shard injuries in my life too.“ The girl’s gaze remains glued to the floor but Connor doesn’t miss the tear that escapes her left eye, sliding down her cheek. This only strengthens his will to getting the truth out of Michaela. “I know I’m not among your favorite people, but I’m not a piece of scum, damn it. You can tell me, Michaela. Believe it or not, you can tell me.“

Silence takes over, loud silence, the one on her end filled with the inaudible sound of her walls coming down quickly. She’s left bare and exposed. surrounded by their rubble and unable to look her rival in the eye. Though, is he much of a rival at this moment? He appears dangerously close to a friend. Hell, Michaela would even make a snide remark about it if her insides weren’t so broken - her heart, her soul, her mind, they’ve all been shattered, bruised and bloodied way worse than her skin.

“Turn around.“ She says out of the blue, the order sounding more like a plea especially when accompanied by another tear freeing itself from the confinement of her pride. When Connor doesn’t move, she finally looks up at him to meet his baffled gaze, “Turn around so I don’t have to see the pity in your eyes when I tell you I’m a pathetic victim of an abusive relationship. The punching bag of an asshole with a short fuse and a drinking problem. A failure to myself and my family. Is that what you wanted to hear? Do you think you have the upper hand now?“ Behind the tears that are spilling freely now is the mix of rage, devastation, dread and sorrow. It’s a dangerous combination that could cause her to pounce at him any second, push him away, take her anger out on him.

But that’s what he wants her to do.

He wants her to let it all out, free herself from all that’s been sitting on her chest. He wants to free her from whoever’s responsible for that scar on her arm and those thousands of little cuts on her soul, all still openly bleeding and unable to heal. He wants to save her. And it’s scaring him. He wants to write it off as basic human decency but deep down he know there’s something more. As much as the both of them would like to deny it, if one of them left the Keating 5 tomorrow, the other would miss them greatly. Threats, accusations, arguments and bickering aside, they are aware how great of a team they are. What a good pair of friends they could be if they just let their pride slip aside. But they don’t, and maybe they shouldn’t. Maybe that’s why they work so well.

However, even with that theory in mind, they’ve both let their pride go in this very moment. Walls and barriers have come down, lines have been crossed and they see each other differently now - More as fellow hurting humans rather than rivaling lawyers-to-be. Closer than ever, that’s for sure.

“Listen, Michaela...“

She once again cuts him off, “I don’t want your pity, sympathy or your advice. I don’t need you telling me to leave him! You think I haven’t thought of that?! You know nothing about it, you don’t get to judge me on my actions and choices!” She’s sobbing at this point with no hopes or ways of stopping the strangled noises from leaving her throat or the tears from escaping her red eyes.

Connor quickly crouches down in front of the couch so he’s at eye-level with her, his hands taking gentle but firm hold of her shoulders, “Michaela, no! That’s not what I wanna say! Listen to me, damn it.“ To his surprise, this actually gets her to calm down and stop thrashing to get his hands off. Slightly relieved, he pursues what he started, “I know, I know exactly how it is. Every time he does something nice it outweighs the bad. It’s those good moments that make you stay, I know. But those moments are the rare rainbow after a ton of rain. They are not worth this pain and suffering you’re enduring. He’s not worth it. You deserve so much more, so much better and you are aware of that!“

“But no one else is!“ She snaps, her hands coming up to hide her face, “No one else sees my worth beyond the job I do or the person that’s willing to put a ring on my finger. No one sees me for me, Connor! My value is determined by what kind of men find me decent enough for their beds or family contracts! What kind of response do you think I’ll have if I leave yet another relationship?“

Her words break his heart but he doesn’t let it show in his eyes, he’d rather close them than let her see that pity she fears and despises. He doesn’t pity her, far from it, but a simple misunderstanding on her end could break this already fragile bond they’ve built so he keeps his feelings at bay.

“Fuck them! Michaela, you are an adult woman, they can’t control your life anymore! No one can! That’s why you need to cut ties with those whose opinions you fear most. I don’t know what kind of stick they have up their asses, but without them you won’t be alone. You’ll be free!“

“And you’ll still have us.“ The sudden and new female voice comes from behind them, right by the doorway.

Both of them turn to look in that direction to find the four missing members of this late case-digging session: the sleepy Asher and Wes with Frank and Laurel beside them.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about, but Michaela, you will not be alone, no matter what the context is. We might not be the best friends one can ever have, but we sure as hell aren’t monsters.“ Laurel continues, being the only one to actually take a step in the room while the three men stay put, uncertain of how to approach the situation. “I think we all care about each other to some degree. So, I want you to know, we care about you and we’re here for you. No matter how many times you leave us in the dust with your eyes on the prize.“

That remark manages to get a smile out Michaela even with the tears that are still not done rolling down her cheeks. Asher is also quick to pipe in, “I second that! Anything you need, we’ll be here. Need us to bust someone’s skulls - we’re your people.”

Scoffing, Connor shoots Michaela a look, “Now that’s an idea. Give us the address of that shithead and consider it done.”

She rolls her eyes, “Let me get my stuff out of there first. I don’t want you getting blood on any of it.”

Connor stands up from his crouched position and turns to the rest of the team with a determined look and a hint of a smile on his face, “You heard her folks! The lady wants to collect her stuff, and I’ll be damned if I let her do it alone.” He turns back to his temporarily-not-rival, “Come on, you can crash at my place until this friendly phase of ours fades. Then I’m dumping you at Laurel’s.”

She narrows his eyes at him, “Hilarious.” Suddenly her eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up, “Wait, what about the case?”

“Laurel and I found something, already turned it in. We were coming here to send you guys home.“ Frank replies in his usual reassuring manner.

“Ooooh, so you were working on the case after all!“ Asher comments, wiggling his eyebrows at them.

“Yeah, we were. Unlike some who were asleep in the kitchen cuddling a trophy.“ Laurel retorts, sending him the most sarcastic of smiles.

This whole interaction between her...well, her friends has lifted Michela’s spirits enough to get her up on her feet, “In that case, better get prepared to help me pack three large suitcases.”

And with that the Keating 5 (plus Frank) disembark, heading to their new mission. Walking out of the Keating household with four people, all unconditionally supporting her without even knowing what’s going on and one person with his arm tightly wrapped around her in a protective manner, Michaela has never felt more safe and secure. She might not love these people and they might not love her either, but they are all fond of each other. And if their fondness has reached the degree where they’re willing to accompany her and aid her escape from the hell she’s been trapped in this past month and a half, she’s willing to call them friends.

Some closer than others, but she cannot admit that knowing that in a week’s time her and Connor will probably be at each other’s throats again. And she’s fine with that. Rivalry’s a type of friendship too, ain’t it?

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et-lesailes · 5 years

Text

missing linc // chapter four

series masterlist

pairing: ceo!dad!steve x reader

word count: 2800

chapter summary: reader doesn’t hear from steve ever since the phone call until he gets drunk one night and decides to come forth about his feelings.

taglist: @viarogers , @evanstush , @chibi-crazy , @chalamet-evans , @world-of-losers , @songforhema, @sebabestianstan101 , @tanyam93 , @bval-1, @wonderwinchester , @little-miss-exo, @poerebel , @pining-and-tired , @gogomez-509 , @patzammit, @a-distantdreamer, @malthestorytellerblog, @rainbowkisses31, @jbug491writinghelp, @quaiderade, @melannie77, @gigistorm, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @firstangeldragonranch, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @honeyloverogers, @capsiclesdoll, @qrndevans, @mcueveryday, @drkstrangeson, @bangtan-serendipity, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyiamthatbitch, @captainscanadian, @kaithezaftig, @morganhoran1671, @booktease21, @hista-girl, @steeeeverogers, @okilover02, @collete04, @sadella-adams, @rumoured-whispers, @aletteredaffair, @shannon124, @isawritesstories, @knuffeltuff, @wxntersoldiers, @kelbabyblue, @macgruberrr, @troublermalik, @deepmuffinspymaker, @societalfailure, @brastrangled, @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall, @anxiousstark, @captainsbxbygirl, @barbar126

notes: it’s finally here! i’m posting this in a bit of a rush, i’ve got a million things to do today and a 4 hour drive to look forward to... i’m also gonna tell you guys now that ch 5 might take a few days more than usual, i’m still thinking about which direction i want to take this story and i would rather take my time than have it be rushed!

** concerning the taglist: i’m super duper touched n happy that so many people are requesting to be added, but i will say that it is a LOT of work to go through and tag each one of you. unfortunately copy pasting does not work with tumblr notifs for some reason. and so if i’m starting to notice people who are on this taglist and not interacting with this fic (liking, replying, reblogging, etc.) i will start removing those people. but thank you so much to the ones who do interact, it means the world to me!

“Are you fucking kidding me, Tiana? You knew she was coming over, and you really thought having your boyfriend’s tongue shoved down your throat in front of the biggest fucking window of my house was a good idea?”

“She came thirty minutes early, Steve! How could I have known? David had been right about to leave just so it wouldn’t cause any problems when she came!”

“Well it fucking did. How did you even cover that up, anyways?”

“I just told her he was over for work. At the time, I didn’t know she saw me, okay? Steve, you need to fix this.”

The businessman scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he paced the empty conference room back and forth. “This is not my thing to fix, Tiana, this is all you. If it were up to me and if you actually listened to me, there wouldn’t have even been anything to hide. You and David could be fucking like goddamn rabbits in your own fucking front yard if you wanted to, if you had just been willing to get a fucking divorce.”

There was silence on the phone, and Steve knew she was starting to cry. He knew her too well by now, he did not even need to hear any choked sobs or sniffs. They had been together since they were twenty-five, after all; as much as neither of them wanted to know the other inside and out, they did.

“How does this not hurt you at all, Steve? How are you just-- how are you so fucking okay with me sleeping with another guy? You don’t even want to fight for me?”

“Don’t start this conversation again, Tiana.”

“I need to fucking know! What suddenly became so fucking unattractive about me that you didn’t want to be with me anymore? That you decided you didn’t love me anymore, after being together for over ten fucking years?”

“I don’t fucking know what it is, Tiana, I just know the feelings aren’t there anymore!” his voice was practically a roar now, the male completely heated upon having this argument for what felt like the millionth time. “And I know they weren’t for you, either! Yeah, I know I fucked up, but I did it because I could tell you had fallen out of love too, and you know that! And I know, that’s no excuse for what I did. But everything that’s happened since then, that’s all on you, all of this shit happens because you won’t fucking let go already!”

Silence again. This time, he could hear her cry.

“I really fucking hate you, Steve.”

“Then let me go.” His voice returned to its normal low pitch, though he was practically breathless from his rampage. Thank God he had picked one of the more isolated conference rooms, though he couldn’t be positive that the people directly below him or above him hadn’t heard his wrath.

She hung up and he sunk down into one of the office chairs, resting his elbows on the smooth wood surface of the table as he brought his hands to his head, closing his eyes.

It had been about a week since you had last talked to Steve, and you were worried out of your mind. Not that he really had any reason to be talking to you; it wasn’t as though you were best friends, why would he be calling you up to talk about his life and how he was coping with his cheating wife? Still, you had been hoping for at least a text, maybe even an extremely vague update letting you know he was working things out.

Seeing Tiana at the daycare was also incredibly awkward. You figured she knew that you had told Steve, because she seemed a little more stiff around you. You were also a bit confused by her behavior, too. You had expected she would have wanted to explain everything to you immediately, to try and defend herself and make herself seem like she was not the bad guy. Or, at the very least, flip out at you for telling Steve everything. But there was nothing. She said her hellos, goodbyes, a forced smile as she either dropped off or picked up, then left. Perhaps she just did not want you to be further involved, and even you decided that was for the best. Still, you were a bit sad upon realizing that might have been not only the first, but the last time you would ever babysit Linc. You doubted Tiana would ever want you to again. And so you savored your time with him during the days, playing with him and enjoying every ounce of his demeanor that reminded you so much of his father’s.

In a way, it was good that you and Steve were not keeping up communication. You could think about other things, other people. The more you thought about it, you had been far too intrigued by the tycoon, and it was probably for the best that you had some space from him. You felt dumb and naive for having such a huge crush on someone so unattainable, but now you could try to move on. If that was even the term for whatever this was-- it wasn’t as though you had any legitimate relationship to move on from.

Friday night came around, and you were getting ready for a date. A boy from your social psychology class had been interested in you for a while, and when he had reached out to you earlier in the week right after all of the drama with Steve and Tiana to ask how your summer was going, you took it as a sign. And so you had made the first move, asking if he wanted to grab dinner with you sometime.

The date went fairly well-- as well as it could, anyways, after meeting a man like Steve Rogers. Peter was a cute guy, harmless and like a little puppy, but you couldn’t help but realize how much more… mature Steve had been in comparison. Had you screwed yourself over? Were you only into older men now? It wasn’t as though Peter was childish, you had just appreciated how experienced in life Steve was. He seemed so wise even from simple conversation, and the fact that he was such an amazing dad was a plus…

When Peter asked for a second date, you felt far too guilty to agree. How could you if you couldn’t stop thinking about another man? You explained to him that while the date went great and that he was an amazing guy, you were not particularly ready to jump into a relationship and that you did not want to lead him on-- and he completely understood. He asked if the two of you could at least still hang out as friends, and you couldn't help but feel touched and grateful that he was so sweet about the whole situation, immediately agreeing. Like a perfect gentleman, he brought you home and to the doorstep, giving you a hug before watching you go inside and turning to his car.

You went to sleep feeling rather content for the first time all week, hopeful that focusing on this new friendship would help get your mind off of Steve.

You felt the same contentment as last night upon waking up, a determined smile spread across your lips. It was Saturday and you would go out with some friends, have a movie night, do something instead of think of a messed up relationship that wasn’t even yours.

However, once you checked your phone as you still lay in bed, your eyes widened in shock.

Steve: I miss you

You blinked a few times, positive you weren’t dreaming even if that was what it felt like. You checked what time he sent it. 9:12 AM. You looked at the current time. 9:20. Your heart was racing and you felt exactly like you had the week prior, his annoyingly handsome face now taking up your mind. Did he mean to send that to someone else? Perhaps Tiana, maybe they had made up? You were staring at the text message so intently that you hadn’t even noticed there had been speech bubbles underneath it the entire time until another message came in.

Steve: I fjucking miss you. It’s dumb hw much I miss you,

Was he drunk? You didn’t know whether to find this hilarious or concerning, but either way you were definitely confused. Why would he miss you? And why was he drinking at 9 AM? Though the second the question popped into your mind, you realized he was probably still in Manila. Immediately going to the clock app on your phone, you looked up what time it was there. Exactly twelve hours ahead, meaning it was 9 PM for him. Still a bit early to get drunk, you thought to yourself, but maybe that meant he wasn’t doing so well…

Y/N: Do you mean to be sending these to me…?

The speech bubbles appeared almost instantly.

Steve: Well theydre definiely not for my fucking wife.

Steve: Fuck

Steve: Im sorry

Steve: I shoudlnt be doing this.

You frowned, immediately texting back.

Y/N: You’re not okay, are you? You can talk to me it’s okay

Y/N: I want to help, Steve

Y/N: Do you want me to call you?

There were a few moments of torture before the speech bubbles sprung up again.

Steve: Give me aon hour.

You stared at the message, wondering if he would actually call you in an hour or if he would be passed out. You lay on your back, staring up at the ceiling as you processed everything that had just happened.

He missed you. You shouldn’t have felt so ecstatic, but you were.

So much for forgetting about him.

Your phone dinged again and you held it up to your face in seconds. However, it was not Steve.

Peter: Good morning :) I just wanted to say again that I had a really fun night last night! I hope you slept well!

That made you smile, glad that he had the consideration to send a good morning text even after you had told him you would rather remain friends for the time being. You had really gotten lucky with him-- you had certainly had experiences with guys in the past who would react much more bitter.

Y/N: Hi Peter! I did too, and I can’t wait to hang out again soon! Slept like a baby haha

You and Peter texted back and forth for the next forty minutes or so until he had to go, and you actually felt a little better.

You rolled over in bed to attempt to go back to sleep for a bit, mostly doubting Steve’s last text. It was a weekend, anyways, so you might as well catch up on sleep while you could. You had probably been shifting around for about twenty minutes until your phone started ringing. Opening your eyes from your terrible attempt at sleep, you blinked, genuinely shocked. Sure enough, his name was on your screen, and you bit your lip somewhat nervously as you sat up in bed to answer it.

“Hi, Steve,” you spoke softly, your voice slightly shaded with sleep due to not having used it yet. “Are you alright?”

“Hey, Y/N. I am,” he spoke surprisingly coherent, throwing you off. You had expected him to still be a drunken mess. Had he really sobered up in an hour? He definitely did sound tired, though. “I’m.. sorry about those messages from earlier. I hope they didn’t weird you out.”

The complete opposite, really. “No, of course not.” You answered, keeping your more honest thoughts to yourself. “I guess I was just… confused.” He sighed deeply and you could hear the rustling of sheets. Was he getting into bed? You hoped so, he sounded like he needed sleep. “Yeah, as you should be. Hell, I am too. I mean, I barely even know you, and all I can think about is how I want to.” You felt your heart skip a beat, a blush traveling over your cheeks. “Really?” was all you could manage, almost convinced this had to be a dream. However, you made yourself snap out of it; you were still certainly welcome to this, but you wanted to be as rational as possible. “Steve, is this just because of…”

“No.” He cut you off and he sighed again, silent for a few moments before speaking lowly. “Tiana and I, we have a complicated relationship. We have for years now.” You noticed that his answers seemed slightly short; you were waiting for further explanation, but there was none. You weren’t sure if you should inquire further-- was he letting you know that he wanted to talk about it, or was he trying to avoid the subject entirely? You slowly cleared your throat to fill the silence, then ventured to ask a question. “What’s going to happen from here?”

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “In an ideal world, I’d be a single dad with no complicated relationships, and I’d just go ahead and ask you out so I can actually get to know you. But here we are.” You couldn’t help but blush deeper at how direct he was, not quite used to men being like this. Or, at least, boys your age certainly weren’t. “Our age difference… doesn’t bother you?” you asked hesitantly, and he chuckled for the first time, the deep rumble sounding like music to your ears. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I don’t think you even know how old I am.” You had assumed thirties, but you supposed he was right. “I’m thirty-eight,” he told you before you could even ask, pausing for a moment before continuing, “How do you feel about that?”

“I love it.” You found yourself blurting out, then hit your forehead, silently groaning as you fell back onto the bed. He was laughing now, teasing, “Oh, do you now? Wow, are you telling me you have a daddy kink?” You couldn’t help but giggle too, rolling onto your stomach. “I didn’t mean to say it like that, okay? I just meant-- I don’t know, I’ve never been with an older guy before if we’re being honest, but I want to be with someone mature. Someone who can help me be better and has experience to back it up, but of course I want to be able to support them too. Which brings me back to my question…” you trailed off somewhat nervously. “Do you really think a twenty year old girl is someone you should be interested in?”

“I think I don’t give a shit how old you are.” He replied bluntly, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly at that. “I mean, as long as you’re legal, of course, which you are. But your age has nothing to do with what I may or may not feel for you. I think you’re fun to talk to, you take amazing care of my son, who, not to mention is absolutely in love with you too-- and you have so much dedication and passion for what you do and what you want. And… it doesn’t hurt that you manage to look drop dead gorgeous no matter what you’re wearing. Even when you’re covered in my son’s drool by the end of the day.” He added playfully, and while you were blushing madly over all of his compliments, you laughed loudly at his last one. “Thank you. That might be the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me.” You replied sarcastically, and the sound of his laugh echoed on the other end, only making you smile wider. Making him laugh felt so damn satisfying.

“Are you feeling better?” you suddenly asked, hating to ruin the moment by being so serious, but you were genuinely concerned. “I mean, both from being drunk earlier and… everything else.” He hummed lowly and you could hear the sheets rustle some more. “Talking to you helps a lot. I should have called you earlier this week, honestly.” There it was, your heart racing again. “When do you come back?” you asked, now just wishing you could see him in person. “My flight’s in the morning. I should be back sometime on Monday.”

“Will you pick Linc up?”

“I will.” He confirmed, and you could hear by his tone that he was smiling. “How about we figure out when to spend time together once I’m back.”

“Alright. Sounds good.” You agreed, unable to help but smile, too. “Goodnight, Steve. See you soon.”

“Night, Y/N. Thanks for talking to me.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #dad!steve #steve rogers fic #ml

458 notes · View notes

amalee · 4 years

Text

// Shoot your shot not hoops //

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff || college au || Basketball player au ||

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: His sole purpose was to win his final game this season, the one he’s been training far too long for. It would be so much more easier if his eyes weren’t searching for her in the crowd every five seconds.

A/N: I know nothing about basketball so please don’t come at me.

Tae: i hope you’re ready

Tae: i’m coming to pick your lazy ass up

Me: what makes you think I’m coming?

Me: i have hw to do

Tae: come on, tomorrow’s my last game and I want to spend it with my best friend

Me: guilt tripping me, nice

Seen at 8:55pm

You starred at your phone for a few seconds clicking the lock button afterward. Of course Taehyung would unexpectedly show up outside my apartment complex at midnight with no reason other then “I’m bored.” Your ringer had gone off startling you, displayed was Taehyung’s name. Picking up, you put him on speaker.

“Hello?”

“We’re here, hurry and come out.” You heard him say. With a sigh you got out of your sofa and deciding that sweatpants and a hoodie were good enough to present outside.

“Yeah, okay I’ll-“

“I know you’re probably still on your bed or sofa so hurry your slow ass up.”

“Jesus Taehyung quit rushing me or I’ll really stay in tonight.” You said locking your door heading towards the elevator coming to an abrupt stop hearing another person laugh through the other side of the phone.

“God Taehyung, is Kevin Copeland in your car or something?”

“Uh, no. But Jungkook’s with me if you were wondering. Also who’s Kevin Copeland?” He asked confused.

“It’s a White Chicks reference.” You trailed. After not hearing a response from him you continued. “You know what, never mind. I’ll be there in a bit.” You said hanging up before he could reply.

Standing near the parking lot waiting for Taehyung and Jungkook to show up you noticed Jungkook’s fancy car roll up as Taehyung rolled down the window, being met face to face the first time this whole day.

"Took you long enough.” He grumbled a bit annoyed, he sat in the passenger seat while Jungkook was the one the driving. Rolling your eyes at him you got in the car.

“I had to do homework to do Tae-“

“You know you really sound like a nerd right now.” Jungkook interrupted chuckling. He probably heard what I said over the phone about his laugh.

“At least I have the decency to finish someone else’s homework.” Glancing up at Taehyung you continued, “You need to quit sending me your homework tae unless you wanna fish it out from my trash later.” You replied hearing a quiet chuckle from Jungkook.

“Tell me Jungkook, are you...perhaps still afraid of girls?” Taehyung silently laughed, cupping his mouth with his hand avoiding Jungkook’s hard stare at him.

“What are you talking about nerd?” His thumb tapping on the steering wheel had stopped noticing how your eyes were starring at his hands.

“Anyways where you guys taking me?” You asked suddenly interested noticing it wasn’t the usual path to Denny’s or iHop but than again it was Jungkook driving not Taehyung.

“Denny’s.” Taehyung replied cooling down from his laughing fit he had a few minuets ago.

“Then why the hell are we going this way? There’s a Denny’s right there.” You pointed at the window but no one was looking that direction.

“Calm down nerd, there’s one with less people since that Denny's is always packed.” Jungkook replied.

“Quit calling me a nerd, you loser.” You sighed out crossing your arms together.

“Nerd.” Jungkook said looking at the rear view mirror waiting for you to react to his words a smug smile plastered on his face as if he were proud of what he said.

“Loser.” You scowled.

“Ner-“

“Oh my god you two, shut up we’re here.” Taehyung interrupted peeling his eyes off his phone the familiar bright yellow sign displayed with the words ‘Denny’s' was seen.

Jungkook was right, this Denny’s was empty. There’s was only a couple customers and a few staff members seen.

“Order whatever you want, its not like any of you were willing to pay anyways.” Taehyung said eyes glued to the menu.

Your face beamed with excitement, “really?”

Taehyung slowly looked up at you with disgust as Jungkook smiled softly his eyes also glued to the menu as well.

“What are you smiling about loser?” It didn’t take Jungkook a while to reply back.

“I’m getting a free meal for Taehyung. Who wouldn’t be smiling at this?”

“Yeah, okay, whatever just don’t order too much, I’m really going broke guys.” Taehyung replied to Jungkook.

After a couple minutes passed you finally got your food. Jungkook ended up ordering the most as always.

“Are you not full? I’m dying from eating these pancakes.” I said gazing at Jungkook who continued to eat ignoring yours and Taehyung’s stare.

“Stop staring at me, it’s weird.” Jungkook finally spoke after a while, chewing slowly his cheeks puffed out from stuffing his food there. “Anyways I’m done.” He said throwing his head back stretching his arms in the air.

“Alright Taehyung, I know you want something from me, what is it?” You asked. This free meal means he defiantly wants something from you.

“What? I don’t want anything from you.” He lied, it was clear he was lying.

“Alright then, take me home loser.” standing up you waited for Jungkook and Taehyung to follow.

“Okay, okay, wait.” Taehyung panicked taking a hold of your arm preventing you from leaving.

“Can you wear my jersey?” He asked glancing up at me lips pursed together, he looks like he’s debating to continue talking.

“Is that all you wanted?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“And sit...with the cheerleaders?” He added.

“With the cheerleaders? I think not.”

“Please, you’re my best friend and I need the support,” his lips were out pouting, with a face of disgust you pat his shoulder lightly.

“You’ll always have my support Taehyung, just not from the cheerleaders seats.”

“Please, it’s my last game and I’ve never seen you sit in front at any of my games,” he frowned.

“Fine. But I’m sitting nowhere near those cheerleaders.” Crossing your arms together heading out the doors towards Jungkook’s car. Ignoring how his face beamed with happiness and Jungkook who stood there awkwardly waiting to leave.

“Send me home Jeon.” You said with a yawn deciding to sit in front this time having Taehyung sit back, “wait, where you taking us?” My face furrowed with confusion waiting for Jungkook to reply.

“Taehyung’s house is closer in this neighborhood.”

“Ah, you’re such a confusing dude.”

“What do you mean? I’m the least complicated person in the world.”

“Just hearing you say that, assures me that you’re a complicated person.” You snickered.

“Hey, you asked me to take you home and I am, I’m just taking Taehyung home first.” He mumbled chuckling noticing how Taehyung put on his headphones to block out our bickering.

“Okay, but my place was closer to that Denny’s than Taehyung’s.”

“Don’t throw me off Nerd, I know what I’m doing and where I’m going.”

“Whatever you say loser, just don’t get lost.”

After what felt like years passed by Jungkook stopped in front of Taehyung’s apartment complex.

“See, we made it perfectly fine at Taehyung’s place.”

“Yeah, but it took you an hour when it really should’ve taken half an hour, look,” You pointed at Taehyung who was sleeping peacefully in the back, “he’s already sleeping.”

“Okay fine you win, I was lost halfway there.” He admitted.

“I told you it was the wrong way,” You ushered him out of the car, “just hurry and wake Taehyung up.”

After a couple minutes have passed Jungkook finally managed to get Taehyung to safely head in his apartment complex. He came back in the car putting his seat belt on before driving off.

“So, I heard your ex girlfriend broke up with you?”

“Yeah, like five months ago.”

“Hey that’s when we became friends, oh wow, I feel like your rebound but as a friend.”

“You are my rebound.” He stated, voice laced with flirtation.

“Shut it Jeon.” You scoffed.

“How long have you been playing basketball?” I asked another question, this time genuinely curious.

“Since middle school, I met Taehyung during tryouts.”

“Really? I don’t recall you and I going to the same middle school.”

“I moved shortly after, then in high school, I joined again.”

“What inspired you to play basketball? I mean there are so many other sports.”

“Um,” he thought for a moment before continuing to speak, “my senior, Min Yoongi really inspired me at first, I looked up to him. He was always so cool playing basketball,” he explained, “what about you? No sports?”

“Nah, never really the type to play sports. I liked volleyball and I used to play, when I was younger I’d play with Taehyung but he took interest in basketball more,” You answered. “Hmm, what about relationships? Is there someone you’re interested in?”

“Well, I have someone in mind but I don’t know if she likes me back.”

“Don’t worry, she’ll be stupid if she didn’t like you back.” You assured.

“Yeah, I guess, she doesn’t seem interested though,” he glanced at me before turning his gaze back on the road.

“So...what’s special about this girl?” You uttered out.

“She’s really cute and comfortable around me, she’s pretty open and very blunt, she’s also quite cruel towards me but that’s part of her charm,” he said with a shy smile.

“Seems like you pretty whipped for her,” You noted the way his eyes crinkled into crescent moons his dimples on display.

“I’m absolutely whipped for her,” he grinned with a soft voice, “what about you? Interested in someone?”

I pondered for a moment looking anywhere but him, “I, uh, I mean I have someone in mind, but I think he likes someone else,” I shrugged brushing it off. “Anyway. How long have you known this girl for?”

“Just a couple months,” he answered, “what about this boy? How special must this he be that you like him?”

“Quit overreacting Jeon,” You glanced over him making eye contact with each other for a split second before you turned your head away. “Keep your eyes on the road loser, you don’t wanna die before your game tomorrow.” He turned his head back with a sly smile.

“Come on, I’m waiting for you to tell me about this boy.”

Pretending to think for a moment you finally spoke, “he’s a pretty playful person and just someone fun to be around,” I snickered, “his humor isn’t dry either, I always get a good laugh from him.”

“Oh yeah? Who is it? I bet it’s Taehyung, you’re always laughing when he tells jokes.”

“What? No,” You denied, “but he’s a friend of Taehyung though, he also plays on your team.” Jungkook stayed quite nipping his lower lip.

“I think you should shoot you shot,” He replied after awhile.

“Shoot my what?”

“Your shot, you know, like confess your feelings for him.”

You laughed looking out the window, “that’s a stupid phrase.”

“But not a stupid idea,” Jungkook clicked his tongue, “I think I’ll shot my shot after the game tomorrow, it’ll be a good way to end my day.”

“Yeah? What if she rejects you? Ever thought about that loser?”

“If she does I’ll still be okay because at least I won the game,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“What if you don’t win? Will you still do it?” You asked.

“Hmm, I doubt we’ll lose tomorrow, I’m pretty confident we’ll win.” You looked over his way with a small smile.

“You better kick their asses Jeon.”

“I didn’t realize there would be this much people.” You whispered setting myself in the front section sitting closer to the opposing teams side so you could get a better view of Taehyung and Jungkook playing.

Tae: Y/n where are you?

Tae: you forgot my jersey :(

Me: no I’m wearing it right now

Tae: we got new jerseys

Me: ugh tae, i’ll come right now

Tae: hurry game starts soon

Me: how come I wasn’t aware of this earlier?

Seen at 7:37pm

Confused you looked at his jersey you were wearing hurrying your steps towards the locker room.

“Goddammit Tae, you’re making me look like such a fool running on the court just to wear your jersey.” You mumbled under your breath.

He stood outside the room waving his hands at me like a happy child waving at a puppy on the sidewalk, he motioned me to walk his way as if you weren’t walking his direction in the first place.

“Here.” He said as he threw the jersey you way, landing on your face, grabbing the material.

“Wha- Taehyung it’s the same jersey I’m wearing, you really made me run across the court to wear your jersey that I’m already wearing?” You asked baffled.

“Just look at the backside. Also give your friend the one you’re wearing right now.” He whispered in my ear nudging my shoulder, signaling me to go back to my seat. The referee blew the whistle before you could say anything back.

Walking back to your seat taking Taehyung’s jersey you handed it to your friend who sat next to you.

“Taehyung wanted you to wear it.” You shrugged putting the other jersey on. It was slightly bigger than the other one otherwise wasn’t any different.

“That’s nice and all but why are you wearing Jungkook’s jersey? I thought Taehyung wanted you to wear his?” She replied slipping on the fabric over her head.

“What,” you croaked, “Jungkook’s? As in Jeon Jungkook?”

“Yeah, Jeon Jungkook, the jersey says Jeon, number 01.”

“Are you sure it says Jeon? Not Kim?”

“I think I can read four letters Y/n.” She replied taking her phone out snapping a photo, “look.”

Looking down at the phone you saw the number 01 instead of 31. “See, Y/n, it says Jeon, J E O N,” she spelt out, “you can see on the front of the jersey, the number is 01, that’s Jungkook’s number.”

You took out your phone texting Taehyung even though you knew he wasn’t going to see until it after the game.

Me: i hate you

Me: fucker

Delivered

The bell rang indicating that the game was finally starting. It started off smoothly Jungkook and Taehyung passing the ball to each other and throwing the in to hoop. The opposing team was good, they’re good at blocking, good at shooting hoops, good at defending but weren’t good working together, surly that’s an advantage to us right?

The game went on. The score was 46:48 and we were currently winning by two points.

Taehyung passed the ball to Jungkook who caught it with ease looking at my direction for a split second before the ball was stolen away from him.

“Come on Jeon. Stop getting so distracted.” You were starting to worry, they’re amazing players but so were the Tigers.

The Tigers currently had the ball, the player, same guy who took the ball away from Jungkook shot the ball and it went in. The score tying.

“Are you kidding me? He was traveling, he clearly took way more than three steps without dribbling!” You yelled ignoring the amount of people from the crowd who disagreed with me. The game went on as your heart continued to beat with every step Jungkook took. He was blocking the player who held the ball and right as he was about to shoot he’d pushed Jungkook down.

“What was that? That’s a foul! Referee you better blow your whistle right now or I’ll do it for you!” You shouted face twisting with anger catching Jungkook’s attention, his eyes met mine for the first time the night as he softly smiled, the exact same smile that night we were at Denny’s. You smiled back screaming his name giving two thumbs up.

“Go Jungkook!”

This was it. The score was tied again and Taehyung was the one who passed the ball to Jungkook. He caught the ball dribbling it in the opposite direction towards the opposing teams side.

With less then ten seconds left on the clock he searched in the crowd again our eyes locked the second time that night. He grinned turning his gaze back to the game with only three seconds on the clock he swiftly threw the ball with so much confidence and so much ease the ball was heading towards the hoop. Everything went in slow motion as he threw the ball.

And just like that, he missed the hoop.

The bell rang and the game was over. Disappointed, people left the building. You stayed back until almost everyone was gone finally deciding to go to the locker room where Jungkook and Taehyung were. You hung outside the locker room waiting for either one of them to come out. Taehyung came out first with a sad smile.

“Good game, you did amazing.” You nudged his shoulder watching as he smiled a bit.

“Thanks Y/n.” He said trying to smile again but failed to do so.

“Come here,” You pulled him into a hug, “don’t sulk too much, player 31’s waiting outside for you,” He pulled away from the hug confused, “but I’m player 31.”

“I know but who’s wearing your jersey right now Tae, go sulk to her instead.” You nudged him away from me his box smile finally returned as he rushed off outside not forgetting to wave bye to me.

You watched as boys slowly walked out of the locker room, Jungkook’s face still wasn’t visible.

“Coach, is Jungkook still in there?” You asked as he exited out the room.

“Poor kid is taking it hard on himself, I told him he can play next season but he refused to.” He answered shaking his head.

“Well, I’ll see you later then.” You said to him as he walked off. Opening the doors to the locker room you walking slowly towards Jungkook who sat on the bench playing with his fingers.

“Jungkook?” His eyes shot up at me as you walked closer towards him. He was changed into a dark gray hoodie with his hair parted in the middle. You sat next to him patting his back softly.

“I messed up, I ruined the whole game.” He whispered his head was hanging low, looking straight at the floor.

“Hey, come on, you and Taehyung basically carried your team the whole game, don’t be so hard on yourself because you missed one shot.” You comforted rubbing his back.

“Yeah, but this shot counted, and I missed.” He sighed throwing his head back groaning, “I messed everything up, I practiced so long and hard for this.”

“Come here you big baby.” You pulled him into a hug to which he gladly accepted placing his head on your shoulder.

“You all worked hard for this, I know you had a lot of pressure being the last person to shoot the ball but nobody’s dead right? You didn’t kill anyone for missing the hoop,” You reassured. He didn’t say anything for a short while before you decided to speak again.

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” You asked, as he pulled away from the hug, looking at me with a blank stare.

“Of course,” he said with a toothy grin.

“Denny’s?” Jungkook snickered from the passengers seat.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” You suggested looking his way.

“No, Denny’s is great.” He looked back at me with a smile.

“Quit starting at me, it’s weird.”

“I love looking into your eyes, they give me a sense of comfort.” Jungkook informed with a soft gaze a smile spreading on your lips.

You parked the car near the entrance as Jungkook held open the door for you.

“Why thank you, I feel like a princess now,” You joked watching as Jungkook’s face beamed. “Should I call you princess now? Does that better sound than nerd?”

“I like both nicknames,” You teased with shrugged.

“A girl with taste, I love it.”

We sat down across each other not bothering to look at the menu already knowing what to order. Jungkook pat his pockets frantically, “I forgot my phone and wallet in the car can you give me your keys so I can get them?” He said voice laced with panic.

“I’ll pay.” You offered as his attention went back on me, “but I’m supposed to pay for the first date,” he pouted scrunching his nose.

“Fine, go get your phone and wallet.” You let in throwing him your keys from your pocket.

“Thanks,” he caught the keys with no effort, “oh, can you order for me too, you already know my usual.” You nodded and ushered him to go. As soon as he was out of your sight you waved for a waiter.

“Hey, I found my phone but some reason couldn’t find my wall- what is this?” He pointed at the table that had things off from the kids menu.

“Just sit down, I think the waiter mixed up our order.” He followed what you said raising his hand up as the same waiter from before came over.

“Um, excuse me, I think you might’ve mixed up our orders with someone else’s.”

“No? This kind lady ordered off from the kids menu.” She replied as Jungkook cocked his head to the side looking back at me. “Did she now?” He said trying to refrain himself from grinning. The waitress left with an awkward smile as you covered your mouth with your hand trying to hide your laugh.

“You took my wallet didn’t you?” He poked his inner cheek with his tongue glancing down at the table before fixing his eye back up at me, as you slipped his wallet out from your pocket and onto the table sliding it his way.

“Don’t worry, I already payed.”

“When I told you to order for me I didn’t expect to get this,” he laughed, “Mini corn dogs with three chicken tenders? That’s all?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” you tsked, “don’t forget your Jr. Milkshake, oh,” You gasped, “Is that your Jr. Ice cream I see.” You pointed as the waitress set it down on the table. “Thank you ma’am.” You smiled at her turning your attention back to Jungkook who had a big grin on his face. He stretched his arms over the table fingers landing on both side of my cheeks pinching them softly. “Thank you,” he said as the grin on his face made you smile.

“Ouch Jungkook, you’re pinching too hard,” You said slapping his hands away, feeling a blush form on your cheeks.

“You’re just too cute,” he replied reaching to touch them again but you slapped his hand away. “Stop it.” This time you was the one frowning.

“Okay, okay, i’m sorry, let’s eat yeah?” He said picking up his mini corn dog and popping it in his mouth. He slowed his chewing, blinking his wide doe eyes at me.

“Do you...know anything about basketball? I heard you yelling in the crowd.” Jungkook snickered recalling the memory from earlier.

“Of course I do, who do you think taught Taehyung how to play.” You defended myself.

“Oh really?” Jungkook murmured amused.

“Yeah, of course.”

“How many players in a team?” He questioned.

“What is this? A speed quiz?”

“Just answer the question princess.” Your cheeks felt hot at the pet name he called you along with the emmbarasent from not knowing anything about basketball.

You covered my face with your hand, blocking his view of me, ignoring how wide he grinned, “nine?”

“Fifteen.” He replied smirking.

“Alright, alright, I’m uncultured, I’m sorry.” I held up my hands defensively. He replied back with a smile, dimples and all.

“Fine, what about volleyball? How many players in a team?”

“What? Now you’re quizzing me?” I nodded waiting for a response. ”9.” He replied with full confidence.

“12. If you’re including substitutes.”

“This is why I play basketball, and you play volleyball.” He chuckled.

“Hey, do you wanna trade my ice cream for your milkshake?” He asked his doe eyes staring deep into mine.

“Nah, your ice cream is melting, also it’s called a Jr. Milkshake and Jr. Ice cream, sir, please correct yourself.” I teased grinning.

He pouted crossing his arms together, “and to think I was gonna share my melted Jr. Ice cream with you.” He corrected himself crossing his arms together feeling betrayed.

“Aren’t you such a cutie, yeah you are.” I said in a baby voice squishing his cheeks together as he scrunched his nose smiling. I let go staying silent for a while admiring him.

“Let me take you to one more place.”

“I love this court. I didn’t know you knew about this place.” Jungkook’s face was plastered with happiness.

“I didn’t, I just noticed it when you took me back home from Denny’s that one night.” I replied opening my back trunk which was filled with unnecessary stuff. After searching for a bit I finally found my old basketball.

“Oh cool, I didn’t know you used to play.” Jungkook nodded impressed.

“I used to play a little with Taehyung and my dad. Obviously Taehyung followed the basketball route and I didn’t.”

“That explains who Taehyung learned basketball from.” He chuckled, I sheepishly nodded passing him the ball. He examined it briefly before walking to the court. He dribbled the ball a few times before shooting it in the hoop the ball falling in smoothly.

“I wish I shot it like that at the game,” he huffed running to pick up the ball from the floor. He kept shooting hoops as I watched from afar clapping every once in a while when he made it in. He turned his head my way with a smirk and a wink before shooting again and once more made it in.

“Come play with me, I’ll be much more fun than just standing there.” Jungkook was sweating and panting hard motioning me to come to him. I walked over to where he was standing which was in the middle of the court, he threw me the basketball.

“I’m a little rusty but I’ll give it a go,” I cocked my head to the side dribbling the ball a few times before aiming the ball to where the hoop was finally throwing it. A laugh left Jungkook’s lips as the ball went over the hoop. It was nice to hear him laugh but also embarrassing.

“You know what, let me try that again.” Jungkook ran for the ball and passed it my way. Once again I swiftly threw the basketball toward the hoop, and failing to make it in as it bounced on the rim. Jungkook laughed again running for the ball throwing it to me. Try after try I continued to miss each and every time I shot at the hoop.

“Hey don’t laugh, it’s not funny.” I pouted frowning with a sigh, "I give up."

“You said you were rusty at basketball not bad at it.” Jungkook joked. I scoffed throwing him my middle finger.

“Ha, ha very funny, now come teach me how to shoot hoops or you’ll be the new target.”

His laugh turned into a small smile as he walked over to me standing behind my figure, I realized how significantly taller he was compared to me.

“When you hold the ball to shoot make sure your dominant hand is behind the ball and your non dominant hand on the side of it.” He placed my right hand behind the ball and my left hand on the left side of the ball, “when you shoot the ball make sure you arms are bent as well as your knees, and when you’re ready to shoot straightened them both,” I nodded slowly mentally taking notes in my head as he guided me through the steps of throwing the basketball. I followed all the advice Jungkook gave and threw the ball.

“And you missed,” he chuckled softly, “I think you’ll have a better chance shooting your shot than hoops,” Jungkook grinned passing me the ball once again.

I threw the ball straight at him the ball bounced off his arm as he groaned in pain rubbing the sore spot.

“There, I shoot my shot.” I yelled at him smiling widely. He smirked before throwing the ball back at me with a soft grunt but instead of letting it hit me I caught it.

“I shoot my shot too, I think she like me but I don’t know.” Jungkook shouted with a shrug cheekily smiling.

"Don’t worry, she does likes you back." I shouted back using the things Jungkook taught me and ignoring it all shooting at the hoop, and sure enough I made it in. Jungkook stood there with a proud smile as a loud gasp left my mouth. “Did you see that? It was amazing!”

“You’re just full of surprises today.” Jungkook said with a proud smile walking over towards me clapping his hands together.

“Shut up Jeon.” I pulled him into a tight hug looking up at him, he hugged back kissing my forehead.

“I’m absolutely whipped for you,” he whispered. I cupped his face pressing my lips onto his, with zero hesitation he kissed back deepening the kiss, his lips were so soft, and tasted like the milkshake I shared with him earlier. We pulled away panting heavily placing our foreheads together not saying anything, just enjoying each others company.

Jungkook snaked his arms around my figure, bending down nuzzling his head on the crook of my neck placing small kisses all over as my arms wrapped around his nape playing with the back of his hair.

“Did know Taehyung was in on all of this?” Jungkook chuckled, “actually he’s the one who planned all of this. “I never realized you were wearing my jersey until now. He told me he was gonna switch it out with his but you were already wearing his." He sheepishly laughed.

“That little fucker, I love him.” I smiled content.

“You’re such a loser Jeon,” I chuckled softly, “and i’m definitely whipped for you.”

“Even though I lost today doesn’t mean you get to call me a loser, my pride is hurting.” He continued sprinkling pepper kisses on my neck with his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

“At least tonight, instead of the game you won me right?”

“Hmm..” he mumbled agreeing, “I won you.” Jungkook repeated locking eyes with me one last time that night connecting his soft lips back on mine.

#bts jungkook fluff #bts jungkook #jeon jungguk #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts imagines #bts

48 notes · View notes

avis-writeshq · 5 years

Text

Billy Batson x Mute! Reader

Requested: Nope

Pairing: Billy Batson x Fem!Mute!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, and trash writing… OH AND SPOILERS!!!!!

Other: I’m not sure how old Billy was in the movie, so Imma make it 15.

Word count: 7,228

Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates:

(Y/N): Your Name

(H/C): Hair Colour / Color

(E/C): Eye Colour / Color

(N/N): Nickname

***

The opening and closing of the front door brought you out of your books and you heard Rosa’s voice echo through the building. Snapping your book closed and tucking it under your arm, you made your way down the stairs, hearing Eugene’s voice soon after. He must be playing another one of those video games. Rolling your eyes, you took a few more steps into the kitchen, Darla running right past you.

“Is that him? Oh, my gosh, Billy!” Darla exclaimed, running forward and wrapping her arms around the boy’s waist, ignoring Victor’s warning of slowing down.

“And that’s Darla,” Rosa chuckled.

“I’m Darla,” the girl grinned up at him, her thick glasses sliding down her nose.

A small smile wandered onto your face as you looked upon the scene, only to have your name called moments later. “(Y/N), come say hi to Billy!”

You waved at the boy who looked to be about the same age as you, if not a little older. You plucked your notebook out of your pocket and wrote a small note to him. ‘Hello.’

“She’s mute,” Victor explained, casting you a sideways glance, “childhood trauma.”

“Oh, I didn’t…” Billy began, pity filling his eyes.

You waved off the apology before turning to Rosa. ‘Do you need help to set the table?’ You signed, a bright smile on your face.

“I’m doing it!” Darla exclaimed, pouting her lips at you before her eyes lit up, “oh yeah, the poster! I made you one! Come, look!” Tugging Billy along, Darla rushed into the dining room, you following loosely behind. “Oh, no…”

There on top of the pink paper were two extremely heavy looking weights. Underneath the weights, however, were the words ‘WELCOME HOME NEW BROTHER’ in pink glitter glue, silver rhinestones decorating the edge. “Sorry, Pedro must have been working out…” In a poor attempt to save the poster, the young girl tugged at a corner, only for it to rip. You and Rosa cringed as Darla passed the corner to Billy.

You smiled thoughtfully, signing to Darla, ‘I can fix it with tape.’

Before she could respond, Mary came walking into the room, a phone against her ear. You rubbed your arm awkwardly as Victor and Mary exchanged a few words before pulling out your notebook once more. ‘I hope you like it here.’ You wrote quickly, watching in anticipation as Billy read the note. He offered a hesitant smile before Darla asked him a question.

“Do you like vegan food? See, I love animals.” A high pitched beeping sounded from the kitchen and the young girl pushed her way past her family. “Oh, no…”

“Oh no, we might have to eat a real turkey!” Victor exclaimed before running off to help Darla.

Billy looked from you to Rosa, “is that…”

“It’s okay, come, I’ll show you to your room. (Y/N), do you wanna come?”

You nodded eagerly before following the two up the stairs, running into Pedro who said nothing. “Is he also… you know…?”

“Oh, he’s just quiet. He can talk a lot when he wants to.”

You shrugged, signing, ‘Pedro can be nice, though.’

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Billy frowned, looking sympathetically at you.

Nodding in understanding, you waved the apology off once more as Rosa continued her tour, “Freddy, this is Billy Batson. Please make him feel at home, okay? Maybe don’t say anything too weird.”

“Oh, one weird thing,” Freddy began, but you were already out the door.

***

After the Victor said his prayer at the dining table, Billy asked his dying question. “Can all of you understand sign language?”

You coughed, choking on your water. Mary looked at him, eyebrow raised. Eugene huffed at him, holding onto your arm (out of the other kids, he was most attached to you). Pedro was indifferent while Freddy looked insulted, and Darla… well, Darla slapped his arm. “That’s rude, Billy!”

‘It’s ok,’ you wrote, ‘I’m used to it.’

You nodded at Rosa, who quickly explained. “Victor and I knew sign language before we met (Y/N). It was just by chance that we happened to adopt her. She’s a sweet girl, Billy, she’s not that bad.”

“I know, I just wanted to ask,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable, (Y/N).”

‘Don’t worry abt it,’ you wrote quickly, ‘I’m fine.’

***

School the next morning was the same as any other day. You got teased, picked on, mocked, the whole shebang. But today was special. After all, Billy was joining the school and you finally had someone to talk to. Or rather, just to hang out with. Sure, there was Freddy, but all he talked about was superheroes and pop culture, and that was enough to bore anyone. At some point, you had to just drone him out with a note that asked, ‘did you do the maths HW?’ to get him to shut up.

You walked silently into the school while Darla explained things. “This is our security scanner,” she said, taking her bag off, “like in an airport. It’s totally safe.”

“I know what it is,” Billy said awkwardly before turning to you, Pedro and Eugene who were standing behind him. “Is she always like this?”

The three of you nodded in confirmation and you shot Eugene a warning glare as he continued to play on his phone.

“Signs make me uncomfortable,” the little girl continued.

“She’s almost never uncomfortable,” Eugene responded, only to have his arm flicked. “Hey!”

‘Don’t be mean,’ you signed and the boy huffed.

Walking into the hallway, Darla attacked Billy with a hug around the legs. “Have a good first day, big brother!”

“Look, you don’t have to hug me all the time,” the brunet said, pulling away from the embrace, before crouching down to eye-level. “We’re not actually brother and sister, so…”

It pained you to see the disappointment in the girl’s eyes as she looked downcast. “Oh… I’m sorry,” she whispered softly and Billy’s smile evaporated.

Darla turned around and walked down the hall, Freddy noticing her immediately. “Hey!”

“Hey…”

He wrapped his free arm over her shoulders, Billy calling out, “I didn’t mean to make her-”

Freddy just shrugged before walking Darla down to her class. ‘Don’t worry,’ you wrote on your paper, ‘Darla is a strong girl. Ik you’re not too fond w us.’

“I didn’t mean to make her cry,” the boy repeated himself, a frown on his face.

‘Let’s just go to class, ok?’

“Yeah, okay.”

Lunch came around and you sat beside Billy at a lunch table, eating you gross cafeteria food. The two of you sat at lone table, as per usual, when Freddy limped towards the table. “Flight or invisibility?” He demanded as he sat down, roughly placing his tray of food on the table. He dropped his crutch and turned to face you and Billy. When no answer came from either of you, he asked again, “if you could have one superpower, flight or invisibility? What would you pick?” Not letting you answer, Freddy began to ramble. “Everyone chooses flight! You know why?”

“So they could fly away from this conversation?” Billy asked sarcastically and you snickered from beside him.

“No, ‘cause heroes fly,” Freddy said, ignoring his statement. Billy rolled his eyes and went to stand up. “And- and, who doesn’t want people to think they’re a hero, right?” He continued to talk as Billy left the table, “but invisibility, no way, I mean, that’s pervy! Spying around on people who don’t even know you’re there? Sneaking around everywhere, that’s a total villain power, right?!” He yelled out the last words and the cafeteria turned silent as all heads turned towards him. Freddy huffed, grabbing his food and his crutch before chasing after his new brother.

“No,” you whispered under your breath, eyes on your food, “no one wants to be invisible because it hurts.”

“Hey, hey, hey, look who it is! Our second favourite foster child to pick on!” An oh-so annoying voice exclaimed. You didn’t need to turn around to see who it is.

“Wait, so who’s our first?” Burke asked his brother, smirk on his face.

“Freddy, of course, you brother of mine!” Brett snickered, “what are you gonna do, cry? What, are you sad you don’t have a real family?”

The two boys let out a laugh, high-fiving each other before leaving you alone. For some reason, if you could choose between flight and invisibility, you would choose flight. Then you’ll have both powers.

School came and went, and you walked beside Darla as you walked down the stairs. “How was your day, (Y/N)?”

‘Same as usual,’ you signed.

You looked to the front, only to see a car almost run Freddy over. You let out a scream, grabbing Darla’s hand and whipping Eugene’s phone away from him. Ignoring his cries of protest, you ran over to where Freddy was, helping him up. The car doors opened up to reveal Brett and Burke Breyer. You held in a groan.

“What the hell?” Mary snapped, “What is wrong with you two?”

Brett scoffed, pushing Freddy against the car with his shirt. “No way that’s gonna buff out.”

“You gonna pay for this, Freeman?”

“For the dent you made almost hitting me? Yeah, sure, you take these?” He pointed his middle finger in the air and you slapped your palm against your forehead. The boys let out sarcastic chuckles as they pushed your foster brother to the ground, relentlessly kicking him in the stomach.

“Brett, stop!” Mary yelled.

“Don’t touch my brother!” Darla cried.

“What, you need your fake family to stand up for you?” Burke laughed.

“Stand up for yourself, Freeman,” Brett laughed.

“Here, Freeman, stand up for yourself!” Burke snickered, shoving the crutch in Freddy’s face mockingly.

“What about you, (L/N)? Can’t do anything for your ‘brother’, can you?” Brett sneered.

“Leave him alone…” you mustered, feeling eyes at the back of your head.

“I can’t hear you!”

“Leave him alone!” You yelled, only to be pushed by Burke to the ground. You let out a cry when he kicked you in the stomach, trying to use your arms to block the blows.

“Pathetic,” he muttered before turning back to Freddy.

“What are you gonna do, go home and cry to mommy?” Brett taunted, bending down. “Oh, yeah, you don’t have a mommy!”

You got up to pull Brett away from Freddy, but apparently you didn’t have to. “Hey.” A voice sounded, and Burke turned around only to be hit in the face with Freddy’s crutch. Hitting Brett in the crown-jewels, Billy let out a sarcastic snicker. “Man, sorry about that. That wasn’t fair, but then again, you don’t fight fair.”

Burke let out a scowl, pushing Billy against the car and punching him harshly in the stomach. “Back off, ass-bags, I know how to use these!” Eugene snatched the nun chucks from Burke’s pocket and whipped them around before hitting himself with them.

Billy took the distraction and bolted away from the scene, the bullies about to start chasing them.

“Stop!” You screamed, pulling Brett back by his jacket.

He scowled at you, “let go, bitch!” he kicked you in the shin before running off to chase after Billy.

You whimpered in pain, clutching your shim as the boys left your view. “Freddy!” Your eyes lit up in remembrance, and tried your best to help him up.

“Take it easy,” Mary said while Pedro, Eugene and Darla helped Freddy up.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, but you knew a bruise would start to form from where they hit you. Boy, did you hope Billy was okay.

***

You buried you head in your knees, hot tears flowing down your cheeks. The others were downstairs; Rosa was calling the police while Eugene and Mary were trying to find Billy online. Darla sat beside Mary, working hard on another craft project, while Pedro was doing… something.

If only you were stronger than this. Maybe if you had the strength to do something, Billy wouldn’t have run away. You wiped your face with your jumper sleeve, your eyes filling up with tears once more. Memories filled your head from before Rosa and Victor adopted you, and you choked back a sob. You whimpered, clutching your stomach that Rosa had wrapped in bandages; there was already a purplish bruise growing at the surface.

‘You’re weak.’ A voice echoed from the back of your head. ‘You can’t even speak.’

“Yes I can…”

‘It’s your fault mom isn’t here anymore. It’s your fault dad is dead.’

***

“You’re a bastard!”

“Lauren, how much did you have to drink?”

You crouched down from behind the bookshelf, a frown on your face. Why wasn’t dad looking for you?

“You have some nerve showing up! How’s your little mistress, Soren? How is she?!” Your mother let out a scream, the weapon in her hands shaking.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t be an idiot! You’ve been seeing her, haven’t you?! That’s why you show up late every day!”

“Lauren, I’m not cheating on you.”

“LIAR!” And that was all you heard when a deafening bang echoed around the house. Everything was happening in slow motion; the bullet made its way to meet your father’s chest, and your mother was screaming. Or maybe that was you. Maybe you were the one who was screaming, whether it be from fear, sadness, or shock. You heard sirens in the distance, and you heard the gun in your mother’s hands clatter to the floor.

“Hey, are you alright?” You burst into tears.

“I would like to call the prime witness, (Y/N) (L/N), the defendant and victim’s daughter.”

‘Just tell the truth,’ you repeated the words the prosecutor had told you.

“Who hurt your dad, (Y/N)?” The prosecutor asked, fixing up his cravat.

You frowned, recalling the incident. “Mommy did.”

“SHE’S LYING!” Lauren screamed when the judge gave his conviction, “YOU’RE A LIAR, (Y/N)! YOU’RE A DISAPPOINTMENT! YOU’RE A TERRIBLE DAUGHTER!”

The tears that cascaded down your face dropped on the floor, and you felt a hand on your shoulder. “It’s going to be alright.”

“Will it, Mr. Miles?”

“Let’s get you home.”

***

You snapped out of your flashback when you heard a creaking on the stairs. “Billy?”

You didn’t hear an answer when you heard a thunder crack, cutting out the power. You let out a shriek, falling backwards on your bed when you heard footsteps at the door. “(Y/N)? Are you okay?”

“Freddy? Is that you?” Using your phone’s flash as a torch, you guided yourself to the door. “Billy!” You threw your arms around him before quickly pulling away. “Sorry, I forgot you didn’t like hugs,” you mumbled before slapping your mouth with a hand.

Freddy awkwardly patted Billy on the shoulder, before retreating to his room.

You turned to leave, when the brunet grabbed you by the arm. “Hey, I’m sorry for today. Did I worry you?” Opening and closing your mouth like a fish, all could do was nod. Tears began to brim your eyes and Billy began to panic. “Oh no, please don’t cry, I don’t wanna make two girls cry in the same day.” You manage a small giggle before going to pull your notebook from your pocket when Billy stopped you again. “Please talk to me.”

“Okay.”

***

You sat cross-legged on your bed, Billy sitting on your wheelie-chair at your desk. “It’s been a while since I had someone to talk to.”

“No offense, but I though you couldn’t talk,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“None taken. Like Victor said, childhood trauma. I mean, seeing your dad get murdered is pretty big, don’t you think?”

“Your dad was murdered?”

“My mom killed him. Had too much to drink and pew, pew, pew. One second dad was playing hide and seek with me, the next he was on the floor bleeding while mom was being arrested. I was the main witness in the murder, so I had to stand at the witness stand. You know what she said to me as she was being dragged away?”

“What?”

“She said I was a disappointment and a terrible daughter,” you fell back on the bed, a long sigh escaping you. “Ever since then, I was too scared to talk in fear of ruining someone else’s life. Rosa and Victor changed that for me.” You let out a little yawn.

“You sound tired. Maybe you should go to bed.”

“Who knows when I can talk to you again?” You mumbled, your eyelids drooping.

“(Y/N), you can talk to me anytime.”

“Yay… we’re friends!”

“We always were.”

***

Fast forward a few days later, you were at the mall buying Christmas gifts. It was after school and you had dropped off your things at home. You still hadn’t bought anything for your family which, to you, was a pretty big problem. You were just buying yourself a muffin when you heard screaming coming in all directions. Within seconds, the glass roof of the mall had shattered, showering people with glass. People were running in different directions when you heard it.

“Billy!” Oh no.

You whipped around, only to see Freddy being attacked by a flying man. Wait, what? Doing your best to do it quietly, you followed them, creeping behind them as the man flew, holding Freddy by his hoodie.

“Billy,” the man growled, pushing Freddy roughly against a locker. You flinched at the sound, concealing yourself behind the door. The man took his sunglasses off, revealing a glowing blue ball where his right eye should be.

“S-super villain,” Freddy stuttered, “Super villain! Super villain!”

“Worse. Much worse.”

The boy began to ramble, “I won’t let you read my mind; my mind is blank!”

Banging Freddy’s head against the locker, the man sneered. “I don’t have to read your mind, because you are going to tell me. Where is he?”

Dark grey mist filled the room, slowly turning into figures. Three figures were there, one with huge bat-like wings, another with spikes covering its body, and another with a long slimy tongue. “HELP! HELP!” Freddy screamed, trying to pull away.

“If you don’t tell me,” the man said slowly, the creatures advancing towards the two, “they’ll kill you.”

The one with the tongue crept closer and was about to gnaw on Freddy’s arm, when you screamed. “STOP IT! STOP! He did nothing!”

“(Y/N)? (Y/N), get away from here, leave! (Y/N), get out!”

“Oh, if it isn’t another brave hero,” The man jeered, “(Y/N), was it? Word of advice: leave before I make you.”

“Let Freddy go! Take me instead!”

“Only if I get what I want.”

“(Y/N), get out, Billy would never forgive me if-” Freddy slapped a hand over his mouth when he realised what he had done.

“So our little champion has a girlfriend.” The man flew over to you and you cowered against the wall. “Tell me where I can find Billy.”

“Never!” You spat.

“I’ll tell you where it is if you let her go!” Freddy exclaimed.

“Tell me first,” he bargained, “then I’ll let her go.”

“208 (random street). Now let her go.”

Without saying anything, one of the locker doors opened up revealing a haunted temple. The creature hissed at you before being absorbed back into the man’s body, not without the winged one pushing Freddy to floor. The man grabbed you by the neck, cutting off your air supply, before taking hold of Freddy. You and Freddy were carried through the door, when the man pushed you against the ground, kicking at the bruise on your stomach. You gasped in pain while Freddy let out a scream.

“You said you’ll let her go!”

“I lied.”

The man threw you against the wall and the last thing you saw was him taking a struggling Freddy through the door before your vision became blurry and all you could see was black.

***

The door of a foster home was knocked on, and Freddy could hear the excitement from behind the door. “Freddy?” Darla asked upon seeing her brother with a tall bald man.

“Oh, how quaint!” Sivana watched as Mary pushed her brothers behind her. He took his glasses off. “Actually, I take that back. What a shithole.”

“Freddy, where’s (Y/N)?” Eugene demanded, as he was forced to sit on the couch.

“I don’t know.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them while Sivana gave a sneer.

Taking out a black phone from his pocket, the mad doctor called a very specific number. “Come home, Billy. Come home.”

From the other side of the line, Billy could hear the screams of his family. Running up the stairs of his birth-mother’s apartment, he made his way to the roof. Without thinking twice, he jumped. “SHAZAM!”

***

You let out a gasp in pain, and you felt as if you were electrocuted. Your head was pounding and you felt as if your chest was on fire. This was not how you expected things to go. Then again, what were you expecting? Nothing less from a super-villain. You tried your best to get up, clutching your stomach in pain. Where in the world were you?

The dark walls of the temple seemed to loom over you, and you did your best to crane your head. A few ways in front of you were 7 large chairs, tall and regal. Thrones? Why the hell would someone need 7 thrones? You grunted as you made your way towards them, stepping over a glowing staff. Boy, did you hope they were comfy. When you sat upon one of the thrones, memories flooded into your head. Freddy. What happened to him? What about you family; are they safe? And what did that man want with Billy? That’s when it hit you.

The supervillain wanted Billy. He wanted him for one sole purpose. Another thought wandered into your head. “Nah, he can’t be gay.” So why… “Billy’s the power guy from YouTube.”

“(Y/N)…” A voice echoed. “Get up from the throne.”

You flinched, looking up. “Who’s there?”

“Get up from the throne.”

Panic coursed through your veins but you did as you were told. “Where are you?”

With a flash of blinding light, red embers were before you, in the shape of an old man. The staff that was once on the floor was in the man’s hand and you stepped backwards in shock. “Do not be afraid.”

You couldn’t speak. It seemed as if there was a force constricting your throat, preventing you from speaking. All you could do was nod.

“I am the wizard who gave Billy Batson his powers.”

“Is he okay?” You blurted, clapping a hand over your mouth.

“He will be fine. But you will not be. Sivana had cracked a rib and if it is not treated, you can die.” You watched as the embers brought its hand to the front, the staff glowing powerfully. “Put a hand on the staff and I will heal you.”

You glanced at the staff sceptically. “Are you sure you’re the expert on this?”

“Hand on the staff, (Y/N) (L/N), before it is too late.”

“Why am I so important?”

“You will bring the champion both his rise and his destruction. Without you, there is no Billy Batson.” Impatiently, he thrust the staff towards you. “Hand on the staff.”

“Okay, okay!” You did as you were told.

“Asclepius, tin therapefsei apo tis pliges tis! Tis doste ti dynsmi ns therspefsei o, ti synanta!” (Asclepius, heal her of her wounds! Give her the power to heal all she meets!) Lightning seemed to engulf you as the man said these words and you felt your rib, stomach and head tingle with warmth. Your eyes snapped opened to fond that the man was no longer there and the staff was on the ground.

“Okay… thanks sir! I feel a lot better!” You called out, hearing the echoes.

You heard footsteps approach, and you began to freak out. This was not funny. Before you could let out a yell, a deafening “YAAAAAAH!” was heard and a figure in red, yellow and white zoomed past you, kitting against one of the thrones. That had to hurt. The figure grunted, and before you could stop yourself, you asked, “Billy?”

The man struggled to get up, looking at you for a split second. “(Y/N), get out of here, before-”

He was cut off by you being thrown against the wall by a grey mist. “Look, the brat is still alive.” Silvana stopped to pick up the staff that was lying at his feet. “I dedicated my live to get here.” The crystal in the staff glowed an eerie white, and you watched in horror as he walked closer to Billy. “I scoured the earth. No one believed me. On one helped; not the wizard, not my family. I only had myself.”

“I get it,” Billy said desperately, climbing onto his knees, “I get what that’s like. Feeling like you’re all alone in the world.”

“Stand.”

“Feeling like there’s this one thing and if you could just find it, then you’ll finally be good enough.”

“Stand.”

Billy did as he was told.

“The champion’s name,” Sivana pounded the staff on the ground. “Say it.” The grey mist wafted into the air, taking for of the hellish creatures. You flinched as they snarled at the hero.

“Look, no offence, mister, but I don’t think these things have your best interest at heart,” Billy tried, but his word had no effect.

“Don’t listen to this child,” Lust hissed.

“Take the staff,” Wrath snarled, hitting Billy on the back.

“Hold it, and say the champion’s name,” Sloth growled.

“They’re using you,” Billy tried again; “You have to see that they are using you.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Darla, Mary, Freddy, Pedro and Eugene creep into the scene, each carrying absurd weapons.

“Say your name.”

A harsh shring sounded and Sivana yelped as the batarang fell to the floor. “His name is Captain Sparke-Fingers,” Freddy said, trying to ignore the crack in his voice. You joined them, taking out a pen from your pocket.

Mary gave you a look of ‘seriously?’ and you rolled your eyes, pointing to the calculus book she had in her hands.

“And we’re gonna keep throwing things at your big, fat, ugly head until you let our brother go,” Darla snapped and you wanted to run over and hug the little girl while reprimanding her to not be so rude.

Thinking fast, Billy picked the batarang off the floor and imbedded it into Sivana’s right shoulder and throwing him against the wall. “Ooh, am I glad I didn’t sell that batarang,” Billy exclaimed, running down the stairs. “Pedro, is that a lamp?”

“It’s my only one.”

“Come on, come on, come on! (Y/N), you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” you respond and the others were too freaked out to comment on your talkativeness.

“Guys, I appreciate the thought, but I don’t think your weapons are gonna help, you could put ‘em down now!” Captain Sparkle-Fingers cried out, turning a corner.

“The door was right here!” Eugene exclaimed.

“Billy, how do we get out of here?” Mary asked, exasperated.

“What, you think I know? I don’t know!”

Meanwhile, Darla was curiously wandering around the tunnels. “This way!” she yelled, pointing.

“Go, go, go, go, go, follow Darla! Good job, Darla!” Billy exclaimed, pushing his family into the tunnel. “Go, go, go, go…”

The six of you ran through the tunnels and over a brick bridge, Billy yelling out commands. Poor Freddy was doing more physical activity than he’s ever done in his life, while you were still wandering about what had happened before Billy and Sivana came through. Your group stopped at in a cave, gazing in amazement.

“Woah… so many doors…” Darla mumbled, staring at each one.

“One of these has to be a way out, right?” Mary asked hopefully, but you knew she was trying to make everything better.

“Yeah I would hope so,” Billy breathed out, eyes widening.

Eugene opened a dark oak door, revealing three crocodiles (alligators?) playing poker. The animals snapped their heads around before running for Eugene, who rushed to close the door. “Not this one.”

Pedro opened another door, and swirling smoke wisped around his feet. A small plant like creature poked out of the door, only for it to turn ugly and revealed its fang-like structures and lunging for Pedro. He closed it in a haste.

Mary and Darla opened a small square door, and the creature inside let out a roar.

“Okay, no more doors, nobody open anymore doors!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

“Come on, Billy, what are we gonna do?” Darla whined.

The boy- or man? - let out a sigh, “Darla, I don’t know!”

“Do what you used to do, just think! How did you get out last time?” Mary prompted desperately.

By now, everyone had crowded around the man in red. “Last time, I thought about the Subway and I was on the Subway!”

“That’s it then!” Freddy exclaimed, “Think about the Subway, think about any other place except for here!”

“You can do it, Billy,” you said, smile on your face.

Before anyone else could comment, Sivana advanced on your group. Lifting a hand, you saw his hand glow. Billy closed his eyes and you felt yourself grow dizzy for a split second, but when you opened your eyes, you were in… where were you? All you could hear was a poor excuse of music, all the while Billy pushing everyone out of the building.

“Really? This was the first place you could think of?” Mary reprimanded, hand covering Darla’s eyes.

“You’re welcome!”

“Where’s Freddy?” You asked.

At that moment, the said boy walked out of the building, yelling out, “you too sir, have a holly jolly Christmas!”

“Freddy, what are you doing?” Billy demanded.

“I was just- they were nice people!”

“Nice peop- never mind, come on!” Before any of you had walked 10 steps, an explosion sounded from behind you, and Sivana was in the air, carrying his staff. “Go, go, go, go, everybody go!” Billy huffed when he saw Freddy struggle. Proceeding to pick him up, he bolted to a carnival where he knew they should be safe for a while.

Yeah… well… not so much. Noticing Billy, people began to crowd around him. You shivered, your claustrophobia and social anxiety was not going to be happy.

“Are you the hero!?” “You’re the hero Power Storm!”

“Wait, no, he’s an impersonator!” Freddy exclaimed.

“Yeah! I’m an impersonation of myself!” Billy yelled and you were so close to hitting him. The crowd never wavered, asking multiple questions before he had enough. “Shazam!”

With a lightning strike and a puff of smoke, Billy was back to being Billy while the crowd wondered where the hero had gone. You lean in to whisper at the once-hero. “They’re thick, aren’t they?”

He nodded in agreement before pushing the others behind a wooden stall. “Champion!” A voice yelled from above, attracting people’s attention. “You don’t deserve that name; hiding behind innocent people who will now die, because deep down, you’re just a scared little boy.”

“Don’t listen to him, Billy,” You whispered, “you’re stronger than he makes you out to be.”

“RUN!” A voice yelled, and people began to clamour from their spots.

Sivana used the staff to send lightning at different parts in the carnival, one being the centre of the Ferris wheel. The wire holding the wheel to the ground was slowly tensioned, and the riders let out a scream.

“Well,” Billy began, turning to Freddy, “you wanted me to be a hero.”

“Are you kidding?” the boy demanded, “okay, no, old guys up there who is harbouring multiple spiritual entities, plus, I mean, he has the same powers as you, plus, he knows what he’s doing, plus, I mean, you’re my best friend and I don’t want you to die…”

“If a superhero can’t save his family…” he looked at the rest of his siblings before locking eyes with you. “He’s not much of a hero.”

He stepped out of his hiding spot, readying himself before yelling, “SHAZAM!” Within seconds, He had Sivana on the ground, exclaiming, “we’ll try that again!” He looked at Freddy with a bright grin, as if to say, ‘good?’

The boy shrugged his shoulders while the man gave an exasperated sigh. He was about to say something else, when Freddy let out a scream. “BILLY LOOK OUT!”

Said man ducked, springing upright and gaping at his family, “Laser eyes?! Guys, he has laser eyes! Too bad your aim sucks balls!”

Without warning, two arms sprang out from behind him, pulling him against the wooden building. The thing jumped out and threw the hero harshly to the ground, letting out a roar. Freddy watched the old man walk towards where Billy had landed, his eyes lighting up in realisation. “That’s his power matrix.”

“His what-what?” Eugene asked.

“When the demon guys leave his eye, he loses his power… that’s why the batarang hurt him.”

You were about to respond when Mary had to open her mouth. “Hey! Over here!”

“Wait, what are you doing?!”

“Trust me, dividing conquer. We separate the sins from the eye and he’s just an old man.”

The six of you watched in horror as the sins emerged in grey smoke, each letting out terrible screeches. You bolted into the carnival as you heard all your siblings being snatched one by one. Man, you should have payed more attention in gym. You ducked from Pride who grabbed hold of Eugene and while Greed snatched Darla from Mary. ‘RUN, RUN, RUN!’ Your mind screamed, all the while your lungs were begging for a small break. You tried your best to even out your breathing and ignoring the burning in your chest when you realised. You weren’t tired. Why the hell were you not tired?

You sprinted over to the pin ball area, Mary right on your heels. “Where… did you learn… to run like that?” Mary breathed and you shrugged in response.

You turned your attention to Sivana who was repeatedly dunking Billy’s head under water, basically drowning him. Thinking fast, you shoved a quarter (or dollar) into the machine while Mary took hold of it. “Hey.” As soon as Silvana’s head turned, she fired.

You froze as Sivana caught the little ball in between his pointer finger and his thumb when you heard a soft growling from behind you. “Ah, shit.”

You let out a scream as Gluttony dragged you into a tent where all your other siblings were being held against their will. “Nice trick,” Sivana said, “catchy. One simple word. I have a better trick. Three words,” he turned to Gluttony with a sneer, “kill the girlfriend.” (PLOTTWIST, IT TRIES TO EAT MARY)

Your siblings let out screams as you felt Gluttony’s slimy tongue stretch and you tried your best to pull away. From beside you, you heard Mary’s pleads to stop while you heard your other siblings crying out in desperation.

“STOP!” Billy yelled and Gluttony put you down. You let out a gasp, falling to your knees, your legs giving way. You felt Wrath drag you in front of him and you let out a whimper.

“Billy, there’s one more demon guy in his eye!” Freddy exclaimed. “You just gotta rip it out of its face hole -” He was cut off by Sloth’s fingers wrapping over his mouth.

“It’s where he gets his power,” Mary continued.

“Reach for it,” Sivana said in a whisper, “I dare you.” Instead, Billy got onto his knees while Sivana nodded in victory, “wise decision. Hands on the staff.”

“Don’t do it Billy!”

“Billy, don’t do this, Billy!”

Ignoring their pleas, the hero placed a hesitant hand on the staff. You looked up to find all the sins but Wrath be absorbed into Sivana’s body and fear forced its way into your heart. Billy grasped the staff firmly on the staff. While Sivana was distracted, the hero flipped the staff out of his hands and hit him in the chest, pushing the villain to the ground. Wrath let out a roar and took hold of your waist, holding you roughly as it ran off. You let out a shriek, eyes squeezed together. Just as you though all hope was lost, you heard lightning strike.

Wrath growled, turning back to the tent it was just on. You took this to your advantage and wiggled your way out before sprinting as fast as you could away from the sin. Oh hell no were you gonna be eaten today.

You ran to the only place you thought was safe- the tent. Come on, who doesn’t want to be near a superhero while the world was being annihilated. You found yourself nearing the tent when there was a crash. A girl wearing a purple jumpsuit and white cape whizzed past you. That’s when you saw the sins emerge. Wrath was battling a green hero and you couldn’t help but groan. “Ah, shit.”

A blue hero flew past you, Pride just behind him. You could hear people creaming as the winged creature hit the Ferris wheel, causing some of the screw to fling off. Panic over took you. What were you supposed to do? Run away? Get the heroes to save them? Apparently you didn’t need to tell anyone; they already saw. One lady was falling with a yell, when the purple hero rushed – quite literally – and saved her.

“Hi! Wow, I caught you!” While she ran to get you to safety, you hid in a booth.

You should be safe… right? Pulling your phone out, you decided to film the whole thing. Might as well broadcast it.

***

You quietly emerged from your hiding place when you saw the red one – Billy – pull the eye out of Sivana. People from all over the carnival let out cheers of thanks and congratulations, and you clapped loudly yourself. The five other heroes flew down to meet their leader, and that’s when you realised. Your siblings were heroes?! So this is what happens when people get abducted.

Moments later, you found yourself face to face with the 6 heroes. “Billy!” You grinned, jumping up and down. “I’d hug you, but I can’t take you seriously like that.” You laughed, looking at the other heroes. “Hey, guys!”

“(Y/N), you’re alright!” Freddy (the blue one, you assumed) exclaimed.

“Yeah, I’m okay. You’re a superhero! Didn’t think your 5 year old birthday wish would come true,” you grinned up at him. “Pedro, Mary, Eugene, Darla! You all look so good!”

“Thanks!” Darla (the purple one?) giggled.

“Where now?” Mary asked, looking around, “where are we going to put the Eye?

Billy just grinned. “I know a place.”

With a flash of blinding light, the 7 of you found yourself back in the haunted cave. “You sure this is gonna work?” Eugene asked, forever the sceptic.

When Billy placed the eye on its stand, coral like structured encompassed it, and the 7 deadly sins were put back in their designated statues.

“You guys know what this place is, right?” Freddy asked, excitement lighting up his eyes.

“A dark haunted cave with demon statues,” Darla muttered while the others nodded in agreement.

The blue hero slowly nodded. “Well, yes, but also…”

He looked at Billy expectantly. “Lair! We gotta lair!”

The others grinned and chatted in excitement while you wandered to the thrones. “Is there supposed to be another hero?”

Eugene counted the thrones in his head. “7 thrones, 6 heroes…”

Ashes quickly began to swirl around you and you gazed at them in wonder. “That’s him!” Billy exclaimed, “that’s the Wizard!”

“Obviously,” the ashes said. “As you can see, there are 7 thrones. Mary is the Wisdom of Solomon. Pedro is the Strength of Hercules. Eugene is the Power of Zeus. Freddy is the Courage of Achilles. Darla is the Speed of Mercury. Billy is all of these powers.” Each sat at their designated thrones, leaving you at the bottom of the stairs. Just as you were about to pipe up, the Wizard cut you off. “Do not think I had forgotten you, young child. You are holding these heroes together. Without you they are nothing. You are the Stamina of Atlas and the Healing of Asclepius. Together, the 7 of you will protect the earth. Together, you are the saviours. Until we meet again, dear heroes,” with that, the Wizard’s ashes were blown away.

You awkwardly shuffled in your seat. “You think we can go now?”

***

The next day, you and your family took their seats at the dining table. Things had happened, to say the least. You sat beside Billy, and you felt him squeeze your hand from other the table. You offered a smile.

“Guys,” Billy piped up, attracting all their attention. “All hands on deck.” With exclaims from Rosa and Victor, Billy began his prayer. “Thank you for this food. Thank you for this day. And thank you for this family. And, maybe this time I’ll stay.” They all pulled their hands back, Billy continuing to speak. “Because after all. I’m home.”

EXTENDED ENDING (you know what I’m talkin’ about)

School the next day was, as usual, utter crap, especially for Freddy. Ever since the Human Power Storm didn’t show up to lunch a few days prior, things were hell. Billy had a bad cough that morning and stayed home, and you had different classes to him, leaving him alone. He wandered into the cafeteria with his tray and taking a seat at the back table. Almost immediately the people who were once occupying the seats had left.

You took a seat across from him.

“What are you doin’,” you heard Brett ask, “Waiting for your imaginary BFF to show up?”

Burke snickered and stole one of Freddy’s fries (or chips), shoving his head. Seconds later, Eugene, Mary, Darla and Pedro appeared taking their seats.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Why, we’re having lunch with you,” Mary said, pretending to be offended.

“I thought you had different lunch periods.”

“Well, we made a very special arrangement.”

The boy side-eyed Darla. “Darla, what’s going on?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Freddy Freeman!” A deep voice called out and said boy let out a snort, covering his face with the back of his hand. The kids let out exclaims of delight while the hero continued to speak. “This guy taught me everything I know about being a dope superhero, true story; you should get a few pointers from him.” He took a seat beside the curly haired boy. “What’s going on, my best bud, in the whole world, and also new kids who I’m meeting for the first time who also seem really cool.”

You exchange looks with Darla who was grinning ear to ear. You knew what was coming up next.

“I invited another friend, I hope that’s okay.”

A man in a blue costume with a diamond logo began to walk towards the table. Oh, if only you could see Brett and Burke’s face.

Freddy turned around, only to see his idol. He jumped ten feet.

#Billy Batson x reader #asher angel x reader #shazam! x reader #DC comics x reader #DC #DC comics #DCU x reader #Freddy Freeman x reader #7k+#6k+

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aph-oklahoma-46 · 4 years

Text

Transtalia Week 2020 Day 4

Day 4: Not being accepted

@the-transtalia-blog Wow, so this got a little depressing. And very long. So, uh, enjoy me projecting onto David and beating them with the angst baton.

Tennessee = David (Nonbinary person, they/them) Kentucky = Henry (Cis man) North Carolina = Nolan (Cis man) South Carolina = Nora (Cis woman) Missouri = Miles (gnc Cis man) (only mentioned) Virginia = (I don’t actually remember their name, sorry Sybil)(Nonbinary) @hws-germania‘s oc (only briefly mentioned)

TW: Transphobia, including misgendering, deadnaming, invalidation, etc.

Day 4: Not Being Accepted

“So… I was thinking about changing my name.”

Henry looked up from where he had been pulling up bits of grass to braid together and blinked.

“Oh? Do you not like Fiona anymore?”

“I just… It doesn’t feel right. That doesn’t feel like my name.”

“… Ok. What were you thinking of changing it to?” Henry sat the length of braided grass in his lap and leaned back against the tree, waiting for an answer. His red-haired friend had tucked her knees under her chin, hugging them. She had been watching him, seemingly gauging his reaction, but now she looked down and pressed her forehead to her knees.

“Well, I was thinking… I kind of like David.”

Oh? Oh…. Nodding, Henry sat up again. That was really not what he’d expected. “Do, um… Do you want to change anything else?”

Fi- David peeked up from over… his? His arms. Tears had started to gather at the edges, and Henry did not like that at all. He shifted away from the tree, crawling over to David to sit next to his friend. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand and rested it on David’s shoulder.

“It’s ok if you do. I like David, too. I like you… even though you definitely cheated on the race over here.”

That got a giggle out of David, and he raised his head and wiped his eyes. “Thanks, Henry. And I did not cheat, I’m just a better rider than you!” David poked Henry in the ribs with a grin. “But, um, yeah… I think there are some other things I wanna change.”

Henry nodded. “Ok. I’ll help, if you want.”

David smiled, and Henry felt warmth come with the grin. He was sincere; he and David had been the best of friends since they were children, and they had always understood that if one of them needed something, the other would do whatever was needed to help. That wasn’t going to change just because he and David might, even if David’s changes might be… bigger than expected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

David stood in the parlor and he (that really didn’t feel quite right, but neither did “she,” so…) could feel the eyes directed at him. He was so glad that his siblings weren’t visiting today, so they could have this talk with just the three of them.

Well, four, counting Henry, but he had tucked himself away in the corner as emotional support and was adamantly trying to avoid drawing too much attention to himself. David would have almost found it funny, if they weren’t so nervous; they had learned a long time ago that the Carolinas were not fond of their- his choice of friends.

Hmm… that wasn’t so bad. Can I call myself that, though? I’m just one per-

“What do you want to talk about, Fiona?”

David was shaken from their thoughts. They blinked over at Nora, who was sitting next to her brother and staring at David unblinking. Ever since they were little, David thought that look was creepy. Of course, Nora didn’t mean anything by it, she was just an intense person and when she gave her attention to something, she gave all of her attention to it.

Which was really unpleasant for David right now.

They shifted their weight to their other foot and took a deep breath, before speaking, “Well, first off, I wanna talk about changing my name. I don’t wanna be called Fiona anymore.”

Both Carolinas nodded, and Nolan commented, “Alright. It’s not uncommon for a personification to change his or her name, especially since we live so long. Times change, and things go in and out of fashion.”

“What would you like to change your name to?”

David glanced over to Henry, who was standing in the corner by the door. Henry nodded, and David grasped onto the reassurance that he offered.

“I, uh, I want to be called- I want to be called David, please.”

Both twins blinked. Neither spoke for what felt like hours, but David knew was probably seconds. Then Nolan cleared his throat and said, “David? Well, that is a very good name, but… I’m not sure it’s the best choice.”

Nora added, “Yes. We realize you must be looking for a change, Fiona, but perhaps you should consider a less… drastic change, hm? If you’re looking for a name that is less feminine, Logan is a lovely name for men and women.”

“It is. Are you trying to display your boyish tendencies? We know you were irritated with Madam Willingham for scolding you as a tomboy. She really should… Well, she should mind her own business, if you ask me, but Logan is a fine name for a lady who is not afraid of a little dirt and sweat. Or Riley.”

In spite of how they had prepared for this reaction, David felt themself (themselves? No, that’s not right, there’s only one of me…) deflate a little. In contrast, they could sense Henry bristling behind them. Henry normally was very calm, and it really to some doing to get him riled up, but god, the twins sure were good at it.

I should really say something before he do-

“I really don’t think that is what David meant.”

Nora and Nolan pivoted toward Henry, and David, despite the twisting in their gut, sighed at the thought of having to drag Henry out of another shouting match with their siblings.

“Really? Well, please, what do you think she means?”

Henry opened his mouth for a retort, then closed it again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before responding, “That’s not my place. They can tell you.”

David held his breath at the wording. Nora frowned and Nolan quirked a brow, but neither addressed how Henry had referred to David, so David let out their breath and decided to move on quickly. They wanted this to be over with.

“I, er, well, Henry is right,” they stumbled. “I’m not trying to let people know I’m a tomgirl, or boy or whatever. I… I’m not a tomboy or a tomgirl. I…,” David sighed, and continued, “I don’t want to be called Fiona, and I don’t want to be called a girl anymore. That’s not what I am.”

Again, there was silence, but this time, the twins were much more obviously thrown. David waited for what they would say and prepared for the worst.

“Fi… David,” Nora said. “If you do not want to… be seen as a girl anymore, or if you think you would prefer to act and dress as a man, then… well, Nolan, I think we can work with that.”

“Yes… yes, we’ll go to the tailor tomorrow and see about having some new clothes put together. Just a few outfits, in case you reconsider this, ah… decision.”

“No.” David wasn’t quite aware of speaking.

Nolan hesitated. “No?”

“No. I mean, yes, I would appreciate new clothes, but I don’t want to be seen as a man. I don’t think I am a man. I don’t feel like a man.”

Nora shared a look with her brother before fixing David with a firm look. “We’re not really sure what you mean, then, dear. Are you going to act as a man or a woman, Tennessee?”

A cold feeling gathered in their stomach.

David swallowed.

“Neither. Or both? I am neither. But…” they trailed off at the looks they were receiving from both siblings. Nora always looked unimpressed, even when she was entertained, sometimes. She discovered early on how to garner respect among her peers as a young woman involved in the politics and finance of her state. But even Nolan, who was not particularly warm but was still less severe than his sister, was fixing David with a withering stare.

“Don’t be silly, Fiona. You are not a plant, or a chair, or a rock. You are a young lady, and if, for the moment, you fancy trying your hand at a man’s life, then feel free; we will help, within reason. But do not start running around with some fanciful ideas of… whatever it is you’re thinking.”

“Yes! Why, if-,”

“Do you want to leave, David?”

David almost jumped at the hand on their shoulder. Henry stood next to them, looking directly at them and ignoring Nora and Nolan’s spiel. David just stared at Henry for a full thirty seconds. They hadn’t realized that was an option.

Nora and Nolan were equally dumbfounded by Henry’s interruption. They stared at the pair standing by the door, somewhat shocked at being cut off and very irritated at Henry’s audacity to suggest walking out in the moment.

“Excuse me, but I thi-,”

“I think that you should kiss my ass, but looks like none of us are getting what we wanted, huh? I wasn’t talking to you.” Henry turned back to David and waited for an answer.

David couldn’t walk out in the middle of this. It was rude, and the problem would still be here later. All that walking away would do was postpone the unpleasant.

But David nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They didn’t notice they were crying until Henry wiped their face. They were already in Tennessee and had stopped to rest and decide where they were going to go. Henry was sitting next to them by the road and put his arm around their shoulders.

“Um, I really… I’m not gonna say everything is ok, because it isn’t. That, what they said and did, that shouldn’t have happened.” He paused and rubbed his face. David had left with Henry, and before they did, the Carolinas had made it very clear that until David had made up his mind and started “thinking clearly,” neither David nor Henry was welcome in that house. They had also threatened to write to Virginia about how terrible of an influence Henry had been by encouraging their sister to run off and confuse her about her gender and such, but Henry assured David there was little to worry about on that end.

“But, y’know, everything doesn’t have to be ok. Hey, look at me, please?”

David looked up at him and placed a hand on the one Henry had yet to take from their face.

“You’re ok. Ok? And I’m ok. And we’re ok, and that’s what matters right now.”

“Wow,” David laughed, “how very humble of you to add your whole self into that.”

“Well, I mean, if you wanna trot off alone, that’s cool. I’m just stating facts, my friend; I’m doing fine, you’re doing fine, or you will be, and that’s the important part.” Henry grinned. “Besides, are you really gonna tell me I’m not fine? Because let’s face it, I’m pretty fine.”

David rolled his eyes. “I think you’ve spent too much time with Miles.”

Shrugging, Henry stood up and helped David to their feet. He thought for a moment, then suggested, “We could head to his place, speaking of. Him and his older brother will probably be much more welcoming about this than those two d- *ahem* than the twins. Or we could just hang out here, or go to Kentucky, or Virginia, or… I don’t know. It’s your crisis, you choose.”

“Well,” David mused, “I’d rather avoid anywhere the twins will be willing to march into to scold me more, so Miles is probably the only option left at that point. They like him even less than they like you. Speaking of, thank you for not getting into it with them. I’m glad we just left, instead.”

“Hey, if being polite to them will make you happy, then…,” Henry made a pained face and swallowed, “then I will bite my tongue and not tell them where they can stick their fancy fucking teacups.”

Laughing, David shook his head. “Thank you, dear. Alright then, let’s be off.”

#transtaliaweek2020 #transtalia #hetalia #statetalia #hws states #aph states #tw: transphobia #aph tennessee #aph kentucky #aph north carolina #aph south carolina #I'M SORRY DAVY

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migleefulmoments · 4 years

Note

awesome-fanfictionada * tumblr * com / post / 615676095589728256 so anon ask how it's possible that no one's ever let the cat out of the bag this entire time (not to mention no one's ever captured a surreptitious pic of C/D together) and the answer is a rambling response filled with fake rumors and inane talk about smiling at each other. basically, there is no answer for how darren's "incompetent" team has kept a lid on this secret for nearly a decade. cuz they haven't. cuz it's all bullshit.

The first thing to keep in mind is that awesome is a newbie- she popped up in January 2020. Everything she knows is from "researching” the ccers favorite gifs and answers Abby and co gave to their nonnies in the last few years. She was trolling through the cc masterposts but most of them are long gone so she basically learned through their favorite gif playlist-if you put all the gifs together and took away the slow-mo feature it was probably a total of 4 minutes or less of Chris and Darren’s lives and all of it was from the Glee set or during promo for the show.

I wrote my comments after her post:

Anonymous asked:

So, we're 8-9 years? into this whole situation. I want to know how no one has ever let something slip about the truth. There's a lot of pieces in motion...PR houses, SM, appearances with beards, them being together (physically in the same place, like living together) without public knowledge. There's also a lot of people that would have knowledge of the situation. And some of them are not that bright or discreet. It's an incredible amount of time to maintain all of this.

Dear Anon, I’m not sure about the tone of your ask and if you want me to convert you or reassure you? However, I’ll just comment on the things you say. It’s not correct that no one has ever let anything slip about them, there have been in the past people who (2) tweeted about them as a couple just to dleete the tweet shortly after. Not always, some tweets are there still. (3)There have been IG posts and radio interviews with the voice of one of them in the background when there was supposed to be no official interaction. There have been other let’s call them (4)“clues” - even if they weren’t meant to be such. (5) It’s been many years, yes, and with the years comes the ease and the routine, everybody is aware of the situation, teams know what they have to do to keep it going (though sometimes they also slip up, some more than others). With the years the startling suspicion that they might be indeed a couple subsides and nobody cares about it anymore (but us), no one goes out to investigate because why should they? (6)Who cares about D marrying to hide the fact that he’s gay? He’s not the first nor the last to do it. (7) And he’s not that famous that people will want to know at all costs or have tabloids to pay for the scoop. (8) No, it is still his team that needs to pay to get articles out (talking about M mostly). And based on the comments they get on such articles, D’s secret seems to be an open one. Why would anyone tell about them? In HW everyone knows everything about everybody but they seldom tell cause they are all in it together - so who should tell and whom to? (9) Besides - there are plenty of couples in HW and around HW who are pretty secretive about their relationships and have been for years without anyone finding out anything they did not want exposed. Some couples are never seen together anywhere but are known to be married because they have at some point or another confirmed their relationship. (11) It is a long time to maintain this but if the parties involved are fine with the outcome (I doubt D and C are now, but for argument’s sake) nothing will get in the way to disturb the situation.

Do you want me to confirm to you that they actually live together? I cannot. That they have been together all the time? I cannot. (12) But look at them interact at the G/lee reunion and tell me honestly that there isn’t anything going on between them - they have been looking at each other that way for almost 10 years now. Have they at any time looked at their official SO in the same way? They make each other smile and laugh, that counts for very much in a relationship.

Yes, I started on 2...ignore there is no 1.

2. She mentions the Tweets that were soon deleted- this is one of my favorite arguments because it’s the most pathetic proof and proves just how easy it is to con a tinhat. Faking a Tweet has been easy for many years and anyone with photoshop skills could do it from day one. Tweets that showed up, then quickly disappeared but luckily ONE person managed to get a screencap? Riiigggghhhhttttttt. We also know that a couple of those famous disappearing Tweets were never real but were written about as part of the “news” post that GleekinthePink mistook for real but was later proven to be fanfiction.

3. The videos where they hear the voice of the other -usually in a laugh- aren’t “proof” of a relationship. First of all, the obvious, we don’t know who it is since they are off-camera and the person on camera never makes a face of surprise like I would expect if the other outed them. It also makes no sense to imagine that Darren married Mia to protect the secrets but they took a risk by having the other in the room during a live or while shooting a video they posted to social media. I can’t imagine taking a chance like that on something as stupid as a promo Livestream or a haircut-maybe to attend a small family event like Chris’s mom’s funeral or his dad’s wedding, but not a haircut.

4. What clues did they give away exactly? The not-actually-matching shirts? The not-at-all matching duvet covers? The song lyrics? None of these “clues” are evidence of a relationship. They are simply evidence of a fandom obsessed with making everything into confirmation bias and Abby’s talent at bringing everything back to Crisscolfer.

5. Now she starts to layout her argument that “everyone knows and they are willing to keep it a secret because who cares”? This argument is so weak I would hope that her community should see right through it, but I’m sure they don’t. I’ve learned through my interactions with Trump supporters and ccers that people who are in a group because they want to win and to be special, people who are bonded together through anger, misogyny, and hate require very little fact-based information. They thrive on short sentences-repeated often- and in anger and having a scapegoat to hurl all their shit at. Having someone to hate is like meth- it’s highly addictive, it rots their brains and it keeps them coming back even after it is killing them. I am sure that any ccer who reads awesome’s post will accept it all at face value. Hollywood isn’t a close community full of people who either love and respect each other enough to protect Darren or are indifferent as long as it doesn’t affect them. The fact is, Hollywood is a small community, yes. If cc were a couple, everyone would know but being a small community and one willing to hide another’s deep dark secrets aren’t the same thing. Nobody has a reason to protect Chris and Darren by lying or actively working to protect their secrets.. People like and respect Darren because he’s genuine, honest, kind, and interesting but ccDarren is none of those things. He’s a liar who is hiding in the closet because he’s can’t give up his fame, he “treats Mia like shit”, he continues to work with the man who put him in the closet using THE Contract. THE Contract alone would be HUGE and go well beyond tabloid fodder. The NYT and WaPo would be all over the story of Ryan Muphy and Fox TV forcing Darren into the closet, forcing a beard and forbidding them to interact for a decade.

The biggest reason her theory is nothing but a naive fantasy is that Hollywood isn’t a static community. Over the last decade, many people came and went and there is no way you will ever convince me that in 10 years, not one person let it slip or was willing to sell them out for their own 15 minutes of fame or blackmailed one of the players get something they wanted. Darren is a vary social man and lots of people consider him their friend. He attends a lot of functions where people see him with Mia. Either ccDarren and ccChris never go out in public- for 10 years they have kept their relationship inside at one of their homes and only a couple of friends know the truth or it’s statistically inconceivable that someone hasn’t slipped or outed them. Glee had a huge cast and crew- add the plus ones and we have a crap ton of people who know, but not one person told a friend who let it slip? Nobody told a friend who works at TMZ or knows someone who does or who is on TMZ payroll? Puh-leaze .

The tabloids would LOVE to get ahold of CrissColfer- not simply because they are gay, but because Darren has presented as straight for over 10 years and he just married a woman! He also said as a straight man he won’t play another gay character. A gay Darren would be tabloid fodder at any level but as Abby loved to point out, he just won every award; he’s one of the Ryan Murphy Players and his career is on fire right now. CDAN has posted multiple blinds about Darren being gay over the years which proves that tabloids would be interested in such a story.

6. In 2020 it would be big news if a celeb married to hide a gay relationship. Especially if that man was famous for playing gay characters and who has been in a relationship with the woman he married for 10+ years. Awesome is dreaming if she imagines nobody would care about such a story. It’s a story about deception and lies but if you add in the shit they believe, THE Contracts and being forced in the closet, a paid beard who abuses Darren and hidden relationship with another man who has presented another man as his long-term boyfriend? Yeah, that would be huge news.

7. I have no clue why she thinks he isn’t famous enough to have a tabloid pay for information. Has she read TMZ in the last 5 years? It’s full of stories about Farah Abrahman and other reality stars and their shenanigans. You don’t have to be a huge blockbuster movie star to get a tabloid interested. You only need a sordid story about love mixed with deception, sex, money murder or abuse of power. The tabloids feed off stories like the tinhats have written CrissColfer.

8. I always love the comments about his team forcing articles out -especially Mia. WTF? His team doesn’t force out articles- they get him publicity when he has a project. Darren hasn’t done all that much press I would call fake, certainly, not many that are written by his team or read as if they just pieced together PR pieces written by his team. Maybe ccers are finding nonsense articles that are clearly written for clicks (they were debating about one last month that was clearly written by someone who Googled Darren and cobbled together his story from what they found online without trying very hard. It wasn’t even written well. It’s super easy to avoid those articles- if they say “sponsored” that’s a good clue. If you have to click through paragraph by paragraph or photo by photo, or you can barely see the article among the flashing ads, you’re probably reading something of poor quality and not worthy of your time. Stick with articles that are more reputable-actual entertainment publications that cover the industry and including interviews or stories written by journalists. BTW, when was Mia in an article last? I mean more than a mention or two? She was quoted in some for TSG’s opening but other than that she isn’t in the pieces.

9. There are plenty of couples who keep their relationships quiet but Darren Criss is NOT one of them. Neither is Chris Colfer... but especially not Darren Criss. He doesn’t talk about his relationship per se but is mentioned in places where one would normally talk about one’s spouse. Mia is always by his side and clearly enmeshed in his life- they share old friends and live and work together. The people awesome is referring t-those who keep their private lives private- aren’t running around with a fake wife or fake husband to protect their actual relationships- they are just keeping everything quiet-think Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes or early Angelina and Brad. Arguing that because some celeb’s keep their private life private, it is rational to believe that Darren and Chris are simply one of those couples is a fallacy-but it’s almost 3 am and I’m too tired to think about which one it is.

11. Now she’s arguing that in over a decade in Hollywood, the people in Darren’s and Chris’s lives have been static and therefore there isn’t anyone to rock the boat and out them. An interesting argument in light of Darren’s resume over the last 9 years- Broadway (4 different shows (2 Hedwigs)), TV (Royalties, Hollywood, Glee, AHS, ACS), music (including a few tours, 2 albums, multiple one-off shows, and several music videos), Elsie Fest, two feature movies and all the award shows, charity events, fundraisers, and other random things that Darren does. He also owns two businesses that we know of- TSG and The Motley. That’s a shitload of people that he’s interacted with just at work in the last decade. Oh and add all the people who worked on the wedding-the vendors and their staffs- it’s unrealistic to believe that not one of them realized something was ccUp. Chris entirely changed careers adding all the people in the publishing world that an author works with. He also has done a couple of shows for TV. I’m not even considering the charities they both work with. Not only is this a LOT of people who are keeping their mouths shut, but it isn’t a static group-Darren filmed Hollywood and Royalties this year and rehearsed Amerian Buffalo bringing in an entirely new set of people to work with. If Chris gets his TLOS movie off the ground that will be hundreds and hundreds of new people with him The fact is, Hollywood isn’t static- it’s the most unstable business I can think of with new people coming to seek their dreams and others giving up or going off to do something else like music or Broadway. There are alwasy new people coming and others going. If Darren and Chris were in fact in a relationship then lots of people near htier homes would know- grocery store workers, restaurant staff, dry cleaners, etc. Yet nobody with this type of evidence has ever even suggested they are a couple. The legit media has never sniffed around trying to find out if Darren is actually gay or with Chris. That says a lot about the validity of the story. Darren would have been hounded by the media when he started playing Blaine but was telling everyone he was staright and showing up at events with Mia.

Hollywood isn’t known for being altruistic and kind. It’s a ruthless industry full of people with huge egos and big power and people who are broke and just want to get hired for a part, they want their dreams to come true. Hollywood is a town of desperation for so many with big dreams and a quick buck selling a story to a tabloid or the 10 minutes of fan that it would bring- hell even someone making a deal with TMZ to cover them for a period of time in exchange for info about Chris and Colfer is wayyy more credible rational than believing Hollywood is static and nobody has a reason to out Darren.

12. Laughter and joy are important in a relationship but smiling at someone during a charity online reunion isn’t proof of anything- it’s just common courtesy to be polite in that scenario. Notice they once again are relying on a photo- a stillshot from a video- 1 single frame is “PROOF they are in love” because Chris is giving heart eyes to Darren.

If your entire argument is they have overwhelming chemistry then you must know that nobody will take you seriously and you should really get listen to an objective opinion by someone who isn’t desperately searching for confirmation bias that they are a couple. Good chemistry doesn’t make a relationship-lots of people have good chemistry and they aren’t in a relationship and lots of people in relationships have poor chemistry. It isn’t proof of anything except that ccers have no evidence.

#CrissColfer #Darren Criss #Crisscolfer lol #Hollywood is static #awesome-fanfictionada

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thethirdwheel404 · 4 years

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Med Rewatch Series (#1)

Right, monkey brain said no sleep no rest, only suffering at the hands of med.

I am going to start with the first episode of S2: Soul Care. Reasoning? I need to check if Latham references Ava in his first interaction with Connor.

If my memory serves me right, when Connor is passed over to Latham for his fellowship, Latham says that he was not his first choice. In fact, his first choice was a brilliant surgeon from South Africa. In the first episode of S2, a season where Ava Bekker is only introduced with one line at the end of the last episode.

If I remember correctly and Latham does actually say that in the first ep of s2, it will be huge for the continuity (and my theory that I came up with today, if you’re interested in following this you should really read that really long post that came a little before this where the basis of the theory is laid out).

Also in rewatching this I see more of Sarah which, again, I have not seen in two years, and she was the reason I became invested in the show, and the reason I stopped watching after she left.

And all of this even before I start the episode.

There are so many emotions and thoughts running through my brain it literally hurts. I think i’m getting a headache. I’m already really regretting this, this cannot be healthy for me.

(btw, this will basically be a train of thought type thing, I’ll do my best to keep it coherent)

- omg its starting

- i completely forgot how s1 ended but its not importnat in anyway

- just, why are they in a helicopter

- how fast does the episode move ive forgotten and i need to know

-JESUS CHRIST SO DRAMATIC

- THE BEGINNING WITH WILL WHY

- it is at this point where I apologize to all those who made it this far bc we’re literally not even 30 seconds in yet

- i just have a lot of med thoughts

- oh god save me

- i am laughing hysterically

- JESUS CHRIST THE APRIL TB STORYLINE AND TATE WTF

- god that feels like a lifetime ago it was relevant holyshit

-remember when she was pregnant?

- literally what have I missed

- side note, i really like the cup april drinks out of.

-THERE SHE IS

-SARAH

-SHE’S HERE

-and she’s a barista

-literally wtf is this show

-and the dramatic music is still going literally chill man god

-THE WAY SARAH SMILES HOLY SHITTTT come on man there was literally no way i’d survive this but fuck not even a minute in...

- okay but i never understood charles’ family scenario but this is already too fucking long for a minute in so i hope we can just skip past that

-hahahah sharon’s fucking divorce? holy shit, this is too dramatic for the first ep literally save me (at least she acts well)

-yeah the one thing I will say about med (thats a lie ive already said a hundred but yk) is that for the crap storylines and all, the actors take what they’re given and give it their all and i appreciate it so much

-the helicopter’s number is N365UCC and just... succ

-ethans bird (!)

-also the fact that’s so big for ethan to be chief resident is so weird to me. like the last medical drama I watched was greys and they are all like grizzled veterans and have been doing that stuff for actual decades and i tend to put med and greys on like the same level bc they are the only medical dramas ive watched but.. holy crap the people on med are so young?? half their main cast is med students and residents. when nearly every main character on greys is a department head. its wild.

-proud of ethan. proud of my boy (did you know that adam jacobs who played aladdin on broadway was in a s3 episode? fun facts) (fun fact: did you know that ava is the only main character on the show who’s status is now deceased? I’ll shut up now.)

-oh my god i say roland buck III’s name and GOD noah jesus

- i find noah incredibly annoying, especially bc he tries to overshadow reese (my fav) but also just bc hes spoiled [that thing that said that one of the biggest mistakes med made was not having sarah get the emergency med residency at the end of s1 comes to mine, and the fact that noah got his residency easy peasy] - but, i will say that the moment at the end of this season where noah and reese dance together at the party is very adorable. (pre reesker brain showing lmao I really did love sarah with my whole heart) (moreover my snapchat memories were filled with just recordings of reese scenes lmaooooo)

-okay at this point I need to stop once i get to the potential ava thing bc what is happening we’re not even two minutes in why is this so long. (so many thoughts)

- i find will annoying but,,, he is kind of nice to look at. and what i mean is like facial acting (i am a lesbian). like. just. don’t speak. and when he’s being a good character he’s fine. it’s very few and very far between ig

-natalie annoys me so much and shes only had one line, and it wasn’t even a character line, it was mainly exposition.

-EW

-FUCKING EW

-ITS CONNOR HE’S HERE. god i forgot what he looked like in red scrubs and his poofy hair. child compared to s3 and s4. hopefully we see latham soon so we all don’t have to suffer through this. and he looks so angsty. he definetly glowed up in the later seasons.

- i have no clue how to spell definetly. I am guessing literally everytime.

-latham please come and end this all.

-oh haha there’s downey hes dead.

-okay so i actually watched s1 after i watched s2 which is so weird to think about. like that means that i liked s2 so much that i BOUGHT THE DVD FOR S1. yeah. I liked it that much (it really only means I was that much of a simp for sarah). but it also means that technically i watched s1 after i met ava?? like i honestly had NO CLUE what was in my future. did young me ever think she was going to stay up late at night, avoiding history hw while analyzing a defunct character from this show on a whim? a character i was super annoyed with at the beginning? who has no become a huge part of my personality? honestly? no. no she did not.

-and the story with downey was so jarring. and the story with zanetti. like i think i first started watching with the first ep of s2 (the one im talking about rn) and i was a bit lost. so going back and watch s1 to like connect the dots. but i never expected the dots to look like that. its like each season of this show is a completely different show from all the other seasons. like i’ve said before, this show is a headache. but literally latham please come and end this for now.

-GOD CONNOR LOOKS SO YOUNG WHAT THE HELL thats so weird lmaooooo

- like i had absolutely no clue who downey was going into this. and they they started talking like ‘oh yeah he killed his attending’ and i was just like ‘damn bro ill cheers to that’

- that’s literally ava’s first line actually. “i heard your girlfriend went insane and you murdered your attending.” - which was why she was hated at first. that was literally her first line to connor which is like, so hilariously rude that it was instantly iconic.

-also HAHAHAHAH CUE FUCKING ANGST ABOUT CONNOR HURTING EVERYONE AROUND HIM WTF BRO THE EFFECT YOU HAVE ON PEOPLE

- but i’m also sad now. --- “I heard your girlfriend went insane.” Oh. Oh, sweetie. Ava... No. --- but why does s2 ava (all two lines) foreshadow s4 ava in so many ways. like literally what were the writers on.

-baghdad.

-ah yes. the return of baghdad. been a long time since i heard that one, but it is easily one of my favorite running things about med. its just a little detail but the nick name is like perfect. (when i read fanfic where the chars are actually doing doctor stuff in the hospital it makes me light up) the WORLD BUILDINGGGGG. but whatever

-this is the girl who has the fake baby right? that was a really good ep (bc sarah content. can you see my favorites? for the same reason the one where the girl has split personalities easily ranks high with me.) oh wait this is the one where the dad like dies but then comes back for a split second to see his grand child. there’s not really a lot I can say about that, but the fact that i remember it vividly is... weird.

-okay but I actually love the ED in this show. I love how the show is centered around the ED and not the OR like greys. its fast paced, you see a lot about the characters really quickly (one of the reason’s connor’s intro to the hospital in the pilot is certified iconic in my mind [his interactions with will are gold]). the team works well together (usually, when things are good. - which is another reason I hated the show more as time went on. The personal lives interfered more and more and more with their work as time went on. it got so annoying). but like right here will just calls maggies name and maggie is just On It. I love it. I love the fast pace. it’s why this show got me to come back. so many things happen, it overloads my brain, like the way a video game works y occupying all of your attention.

-when is the dad gonna pass out i’m just waiting

-AHAHAHAHAHA JEFF NOOOOO. what even was the deal with jeff that storyline annoyed me so much I never got it. he was friends with nat’s husband (who died) and they were both named Jeff? and she actually ended up getting with Jeff a few times?

- the more you watch med and see how the characters get with each other, the more jaded you become

-omg they’re transferring the girl to the bed i love it when they count

-maggie was great but from what i heard/read they ruined her character too??? just not the same

-lmao only real g’s remember the chicago fire backdoor med pilot (if you want an explanation ask me lmao it was a ride)

- i was a real med simp bc I bought that episode on apple video.

-ahahaha this is so stupid. Jeff tries to do things and Will (being a fucking asshole and jealous, doesnt’ let him). he’s a med student let him fucking learn. also i remember why i hated will

-okay but if you look at greys vs. med, greys literally gives their med students no rights. scratch that. they give they’re interns little to no rights. (i only watched the last three seasons bc lesbian, but in those seasons they introduce the bottom of the totem pole, the sub I’s, who are a step ahead of med students, yet they are jokes on the show.) its just a weird juxtaposition is all.

-”lungs are wet.” dramatic music intensifies.

-OKAY BUT I LITERALLY FORGOT NATALIE SPECIALIZED IN PEDS. LIKE I COMPLETELY 100% FORGOT. HOLY SHIT THATS SO FUNNY i can’t believe in my mass hyperfixation i forgot, just more proof that she doesn’t deserve anything.

-why did will make nat do that call? also idk why but is it weird to anyone else when the characters call each other but just.. their names.

-ahahahah i laugh literally everytime i remember that will is supposed to be in charge like he is threatened by anything that MOVES. (also more juxtapositon to greys bc here the attendings are treated as a joke!)

- hly shit i just remember monday mourning and god damn the angst literally never takes a day off but whatever.

- i dont usually get like this but the dad’s acting here is actually making me sad lol. Usually i get annoyed when family members get emotional (im weird uhhhh)

-why did we have to watch the tube being put in for so long - med is so dramatic this fucking show whyyyy

- i bet u the dad is gonna pass out

-oh ig not oops

-OKAY FUCK ME THAT LITERALLY ONLY TOOK US TO THE TITLES HOW DO I HAVE THESE MANY FUCKING THOUGHTS.

-wait latham introduction we may just be able to call it here.

-haha i fucking hate him (connor). he just... comes off so fake-charming its annoying. i cant get over it lmao

-okay but literally every gives connor shit and I am here for it. Latham: “did you kill him?”

- it is literally so funny but annoy how connor throws hands with literally everyone in his path (like dude just chill come onnn)

-okay. okay. okay. finally the part i was waiting for.

- Latham: I preferred a young woman from Groote Schuur, but I was outvoted.

That’s an actual quote, from Latham. For those who are wondering, Groote Schuur is a famous hospital in, you guessed it, South Africa. This is where I’m calling the episode. This is all I needed.

I just want to restate. This is the first episode of season 2. Ava Bekker is introduced to the show in the last episode of season 2. What does this mean, my friends? It means everything.

For those of you who stuck through to the end, I am very thankful. Here we have probably the first piece of evidence to my theory, at least chronologically.

I, personally, think it’s absurd I remembered this point, but I did. That point, that line, presently, watching this episode with no idea of what the future holds, is only there to tell us that Latham and Connor are not going to agree. But this is the single greatest piece of foreshadowing med has ever done.

Med has never planned anything. I feel confident when I say that. Look at their storylines. They are literally on fire, and every decision the characters make reads like the writers going ‘we have no idea how we made it this far, we thought we would get stopped like ten steps ago.’

When has med ever planned things more than a few episodes in advanced, honestly? Almost never, and going a full season sitting on a plot point, that’s major. This was the first time med has ever planned something miles in advance.

In all honestly, yes I am probably giving the med writers a lot more credit than they deserve. It’s quite possible that as the season progressed they just decided connor needed a new love interest or at least a new dynamic, so they could have just easily looked back and thought ‘oh, hey, here’s a fun little thing we said earlier in the season, wouldn’t it be fun if it paid off?’ That could be true.

Here’s why it probably isn’t. The med writers have no respect for their own continuity. you really think that, in order to come up with a whole new character, they went back to the first episode of the season and paid off a line that is said in less than 2 seconds? no way. Bull. Shit.

honestly, it is probably equally unlikely that either of these things happened. The med writers don’t look back at their story. It’s true, but they also don’t plan things in advance either.

here’s the thing, the more i write, the more absurd it starts to sound. Yeah. Sure. the med writers sat on a character for an entire season, that’s totally a thing that happened and not sarcasm. When pigs fly. everyone knows med is impulsive and messy. But what I am saying is that they planned one thing. One thing.

Ava has an accent. That was a commitment. A pretty uncommon one too. South Africa is such an out of the box choice that god its barely on the map. It asks a lot of someone to act hard while also doing an uncommon accent. If the med writers just decided they needed to give connor a new dynamic, they could have made it a n y o n e. Yeah, sure it would have been nice to have the latham dynamic with the new character, but it would have been so much easier to just create a new character that doesn’t have such a commitment. We all know people who play opposite of Connor Rhodes do not stay around that long.

There is absolutely no reason Connor’s s3 love interest had to be the girl from South Africa. It could have literally been anyone. They could have kept Robin on. They could have made the new character not have so many specific requirements.

At this point, I’m pushing this really hard. Yeah, obviously Ava was planned from the beginning of s2. She had to be. It’s way too specific to be anything else.

What I’m pointing out here is med has never done that before. (at least to my knowledge, if i’m wrong please tell me i don’t want to be a fool) They have never had such a concrete plan for a character, so much as to tease them a full season before they were introduced.

I’m saying, that Ava was special. She was the only character who was teased ahead of her arrival. The one who they knew they wanted, other than the originals, and honestly saying the ‘knew what they wanted to do with the originals’ is being generous. But Ava was different. They had big plans for Ava.

It’s undeniable. Ava was the only character who was planned and teased ahead of her arrival. Ava has such a different style and character than anyone else on the show. She was always planned to be, even when she was just being teased, a rival to connor, meaning she could stand her own against him (or without him).

Now of course, the med writers forgot this when writing s4 and s5. But for the purposes of the important things, all that really matters are the two mentions in s2, and what happens in s3. (for the theory at least).

In conclusion: think about how odd it is that Ava was the only character that was planned over the course of the show. Like sure the characters are planned, but never this far in advance. Med writers don’t really plan anything. I would be shocked if they did anything but through a dart at a spinning wheel. But they had plans for Ava, and they had plans for s3, when she was good.

Think about how odd it is that the med writers had a character planned from the start of s2, that they sat on for a whole season. They never, ever did something so slow and deliberate. Never. It goes against their formula. Like a fucking shark, they have to be moving or they die, at least in their heads. But Ava was always a change to the formula. They had a plan for s3.

that’s it for now. we will see what happens when i watch the last episode of s2.

read the next parts:

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra

#chicago med #med rewatch series #mine #soul care #ava bekker

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mingyaus · 5 years

Text

i guess summer’s fine too

summary cute upperclassman nakamoto yuta is your project partner in the hot hot summer quarter sex ed class and you don’t know what to do about your nervessssss.

pairing yuta x reader

genre floof

warnings mentions of sexxx

word count 1737ish

Think of something to distract you from your nerves. He’s coming closer and you don’t want him to think you’re a weakling. Be confident. Think smart. Nerves. Nervousssss. The nervous system. What was it made up of? Oh, yes two parts. Number one, there’s the peripheral nervous system. Then number two there’s the central nervous system, which is made up of the--

“Hi. Uh, hello?” He waves his hand in front of your face. “You alright?”

“Huh? Um, yes. Sorry. I’m Y/n.” You snap out of your internal listing of parts of the nervous system and look him in the eye like a more normal person. He reaches out his hand to shake yours.

“I’m Yuta. Nakamoto Yuta.” His smile is dazzling. You kind of want to cry, but you control yourself. You must control yourself. You’ve heard about Yuta. A few rumors floating around campus.

Here’s what you know:

Bio major

Dazzling smile

Soccer babe

Lowkey hoe

And these are lucky facts for you because this is the Easy A Sex Class everyone takes to fulfil whatever undergraduate requirement it fills. This class is a smaller size than it usually is though because it’s summer quarter. Most of the other kids in your class are upperclassmen though trying to graduate soon. You’re the youngest one here, but you’ll be fine especially with Yuta as your partner for the final project. His being a bio major and lowkey hoe will definitely come in handy.

“We dun got this in the bag.” You find yourself quietly saying out loud. Emphasis on quietly because you say it so quietly Yuta ends up asking you to repeat yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Let’s get a look at the project requirements.” You say then make room for him to sit next to you and pull up the instructions document.

---

[ Y/n | 10:32 am]

Hey, Yuta. Sorry to bother you but I have another question about sex ed hw

[ Yuta | 10:34 am ]

Y/n. You gotta stop. :(

[ Y/n | 10:38 am ]

Huh, stop what?

[ Yuta | 10:40 am ]

You keep asking me questions. You gotta stop because I actually don’t know anything. I’m about as lost as you are.

[ Y/n | 10:44 am ]

UH. BUT aren’t you a bio major?

[ Yuta | 10:46 am ]

Uh yeah plant bio -- technically a botany major but our school calls it plant bio or (as the cool kids say) pBio but yeah

[ Y/n | 10:49 am ]

Oh shoot sorry…

Then you stop texting him unless it has to do with the final project. You feel bad about believing too much about the rumors, but they were right about the soccer babe thing (as you’ve learned from brief small talk). He’s been playing since he was six. The smile thing? For sure true. 50% of the rumors were confirmed true, so he could be a hoe or maybe not. Who knows? You’re a pure child. Better to not take any chances.

---

And take no chances you did. You’re on the phone with him right now trying to negotiate the exchange of a diagram.

“Y/n, please, can you just pick it up from my place? I’m sick.”

You don’t trust him. You don’t want to be alone with him. He also still makes you kinda nervous so much that you’d probably stop yourself before getting to his place. Maybe he’s lying about being sick and trying to sleep with you. So after 15 more minutes of negotiations you convince “sick” Yuta to come over to your dorm to drop it off.

But. Uh oh. It turns out he’s actually sick, so once he hands you the diagram he passes out real quick. It’s quite a walk from his place to your place and the weather outside isn’t that hot but probably killer for someone with an actual fever.

“Shoot. Shoot. Shoot.” You continue mumbling at yourself upset at your foolish life decisions. You forgot that your roommate won’t even be coming back because she left for the weekend, so you would’ve been alone with Yuta regardless. Now you might have to spend the night with him.

Yuta’s body lies still and fevered at your doorway. You can’t just leave his body like this because then you’d have to leave the dorm door open, which would be gross and weird because you live right next to the stairwell.

“Jesus fuck. Do I really have to TOUCH this hoe’s body?” You figure it’s fine to think out loud. You’re panicked and he didn’t move when you were talking to yourself earlier. The strength training your gym friendly friends have been forcing you to do has come in handy because you were able to drag Yuta’s body to the foot of your bed on top of some blankets you laid on the ground to make it semi-comfortable.

He still isn’t awake after all of that. He’s still breathing. He should be fine. Yeah. Sure. A few hours pass and you want to sleep too, so you’re about to climb into your bed when the thought of accidentally rolling over onto Yuta pops into your mind. You’re a fairly active sleeper. Also, you don’t want Yuta’s face to be the first thing you see in the morning. So that discounts your bed and your roommate would kill you if she found out you slept in her bed. You settle on the best option: the bathtub. Old dorms lead to odd accessories and your dorm (actually one of five dorms in your hall) is outfitted with a bathtub. There’s a standing shower too. Real boujee.

—

Peek-a-peek-a-peek-a-boo. Peek. Peek. Peek. PeeeEK.

Front row seats to a Red Velvet concert?! Your friend texted you last night and now you’re here. Front row! All for free! Wild. Wild. This must be a drea—

Shuffles from the doorway awaken you. Looking in that direction after rubbing your eyes a few times. You see him. Nakamoto Yuta. His eye peeking out of a crack in the door like a little kitten trying to push its way into a room. He’s the first thing you see this morning. Exactly what you were trying to avoid last night by moving into this strangely comfortable spot.

“Oh, okay. Okay. Good you’re not naked. I was worried you were taking a bath and I just really really need to pee.” He says very quickly. His voice is a little crackly. Some morning voice.

Pee? Peek? Peek a boo? Oof he’s ruining everything for you.

“What? Huh. Okay. Sorry I’ll get out.” You quickly shuffle out dragging your blanket and pillows with you.

He basically runs in and loudly slams the door shut, “Shoot! Sorry!”

“Mhm. You’re good.” And you try to not listen as he begins to pee. He’s quick though and stays by the bathroom doorway watching you while you sit on your bed. He folded all the blankets he used the night before and left them on the foot of your bed. A neat boy. A pretty neat guy.

“Thanks for letting me stay the night. I feel way better now.”

“I guess my dorm floor does wonders for your immune system.” You two laugh.

“So, why’d you sleep in the bathtub?” He asks. His big sunshiny smile warming your cold exterior. You don’t want to admit that you’re kinda scared of him because he’s a hoe. So you think of excuses.

“I-I just didn’t want your face to be the first thing I see in the morning.”

“If you slept on your bed then the ceiling would be the first thing you would’ve seen.”

“Well, uh, I sleep on my side angled in a way that I face the ground. Could’ve fallen on top of you.”

“Sure. And that’s happened before?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Y-yeah.”

“You sure?” He’s grilling you. You keep your eyes trained on his trying to keep calm. Nerves. Calm. Down.

“Fine.” He’s got you. “I-I…”

“Mhm, yes?” Yuta smiles a little, trying to be gentle coax you into giving an honest answer.

“I didn’t wanna get sick. You were pretty out of it.” And it looks like he believes you! He nods then walks over to sit on your desk chair.

“Fair reasoning. Sorry for making you sleep there.” He’s looking at the diagram he came over to deliver to you. And you feel plagued with guilt. He came all the way here to give you that. He’s been anything but rude. He hasn’t tried anything. He’s one of the nicest people you know and you can’t just lie to him.

“Fine, Yuta. I’ll tell you the truth.” And you admit it. You admit that he makes you nervous because of the rumors about him specifically the one about him being a hoe. You were afraid of being taken advantage of.

“Y/n.” He chuckles. He literally laughs out loud his bright smile glowing even brighter in your face with the audible laughing giving it more power. More shine. Makes him more comforting. More nice. “You realize the real hoes are Jaehyun and Johnny. Those boys, my guys. Some of my best friends actually. They’re cool and honestly it’s fine to be a hoe as long as you’re not causing problems and--but that’s besides the point.” He rolls and his eyes and scoffs. “Y/n, I’m trying to graduate with that five year masters program. I don’t have much time for people, let alone sleeping around.”

“What? What masters?”

“I’m trying to get into academia, so I wanna get my masters early so then I can get an early start on my PhD and become a professor.”

“Wow. Are you serious?” You cackle. “You’re a serious plant nerd.”

“Well, you too. You’re a nerd too.” He points at you.

“What? No way.”

“Dear, you’re taking summer classes and are nowhere close to graduation. You’re not even trying to graduate early. So like why else would you be doing this? You’re a nerd. You like education. You like school.”

“I’m just trying to get ahead…” You mumble defensively.

“Nerd.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.” He smirks and stands up getting in front of you. “Wanna get some coffee so we can do some nerd studying together?”

“I thought you didn’t have time for other people?” He’s making you nervous again, but a different kind. A little hopeful kind.

“Well, I’m making time for you. Coming?”

“Sure.” And you two go to the door to prep for another long day of summer studying.

masterlist

#yuta #nct #kpop #nct yuta #yuta imagines #yuta x reader #nct imagines #nct x reader #kpop x reader #nct yuta x reader #kpop imagines #nct yuta imagines

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alcego-writes · 4 years

Text

Writing With ADHD

Writing is hard at the best of times, but when you have to add your brain to your list of obstacles, it gets exponentially more difficult. That doesn’t mean you can’t do it! Like most things, it just means you have to find a way to write that works for you.

I am notoriously ADHD. For the majority of my writing experience, I have done nothing but write short snippets of something and then disappear into obscurity because that was all I could manage to do. However, recently I’ve been able to spend time trouble-shooting my writing experience and that’s been a godsend. I’ve been writing consistently (at least four days a week) since mid-September of this year, something that was previously unthinkable. In that time, I’ve written roughly 82,000 words across several projects, which is more than I’ve written in my entire life, let alone over such a short span of time.

I’m not saying this to brag, although I am certainly proud of this, but to say that it is possible to write with ADHD. It is possible to write a lot with ADHD. And it is possible to write without being in agony with ADHD.

It’s not an easy process, as what works for writers without ADHD may not work for you, or may need to be tweaked considerably to work for you. So here I’ve broken down a few issues that I struggled with, as well as some ways to overcome those issues. (Note: These may not work for you, or may need to be changed to work for you. Don’t worry about that! All that matters is you’ve found a way to write that works for you.)

Inspiration Overload

You know what I’m talking about: when you’ve got one great idea, but before you can make any real headway on the project you get another great idea, but before you can get started on that you get yet another great idea, and so on and so forth. It happens to the best of us, and it doesn’t have to get in the way of progress!

Obviously there are a ton of ways to overcome this, but for this post I’m just going to focus on these three:

Idea Dumps

Multiple Projects

Work It In

1. Idea Dumps

It’s not exactly an attractive name, so apologies for that, but it does mean roughly what it says. Personally, I have two idea dumps: one is a Scrivener document where I jot down loose lines of inspiration or basic ideas. The other is a notebook where I loosely outline ideas so I can appease the side of my brain that demands I work on it right-now-immediately.

Obviously, there’s more options than just that. You may find that sticky notes or a legal pad or a Google Doc or the notes program on your phone works better. That’s fine! Just get the idea down, so you won’t have to worry about forgetting it and you get a little bit of satisfaction knowing you’ve gotten some work done on it.

2. Multiple Projects

If you can manage it, pull up several documents. Write down the idea and bounce between the docs as your inspiration shifts. This does require some self-control, namely knowing how many WIPs you can actively work on at the same time (and when you need to shift something onto the back-burner).

This will look different for everyone. For me, I can work on two projects at a time when time and energy allows, but as soon as mid-terms/finals/holidays come into play, I have to shift my focus to one WIP or risk burning myself out.

Play with it! Look at your history of WIPs. When has it been the easiest for you to write? The hardest? Apply that to your writing routine and tweak it as needed until it works for you.

3. Work It In

This doesn’t work for all ideas, but finding ways to include a heist narrative in your vaporwave novel can be an incredibly rewarding feeling. To do this, consider your active WIP and the new idea you have. What does the new idea have that the other is lacking? Can the new idea be shaped to fit into the active WIP?

For example, I developed the concept for my sci-fi novel from two different ideas. One was a young woman who doubled as a superhero trying to take down a corrupt government, and the other consisted of three clearly defined characters who lacked anything resembling a plot. By merging the two, I gave that WIP a well-rounded cast and ensured that those three characters didn’t waste away in my idea dump doc without ever getting a plot.

It’s trial and error, but it can work!

What the Fuck is a “Routine”

I don’t know about y’all, but I cannot function without a routine. I also struggle to establish anything resembling a routine without a lot of struggling. It’s hard! It’s difficult to do anything, let alone create a method of going about your day that leads to consistent productivity.

The biggest thing that helped me get a routine was to stop thinking about it as a rigid, immovable thing. Routines can be that, yes, but for me it was impossible to create a routine without trying to track my every task down to the minute. Which, if you’ve ever tried a routine like that and started falling behind, is a slippery slope.

Instead, make a list of the things you want to do every day, or every week, or every month. Look at the ones you want to do right now, and focus on doing those on a regular basis. Once you’ve worked that one thing into your day and can do it without struggling overmuch, you can start focusing on adding another.

For example, I wanted to write consistently. Not every day, but at least every week. And I wanted to have something to show for that, so I would be able to look back and say, “Hey, I’ve been doing good!” So I grabbed a sticky note, wrote the date on the top, and listed every day of the week on a different line. Each day I wrote something, I wrote the word count on the sticky note. At the end of the week, I totaled up what I wrote for the week and then stuck it in the front cover of my writing notebook.

I’ve spoken with people who take their planner/calendar and put one sticker per thousand words on the day they wrote (e.g. on November 28, I wrote 2,000 words, so I would put two stickers on November 28). You might grab a clear jar and some cotton balls/marbles/little rocks and put one in for every thousand words, or enter it into a writing program that tracks that for you. Whatever works!

The point of this is to give yourself a reward system. What I outlined above is a form of reward system, where you can see your efforts clearly and on paper. This is more effective for me than telling myself I can’t get on Tumblr/read/listen to a podcast until I’ve written x number of words, but there are different strokes for different folks. Play around with it, and find a way to reward yourself for your work! (Your brain will appreciate the dopamine boost, I guarantee it.)

Once you’ve added a few things to your daily/weekly/monthly tasks, you’ll have a routine! I like to break down my tasks as little bullet-points on a notepad so I can cross them out when I get done. (Right now my lists look like 1. Write, 2. Algebra HW, 3. Sociology HW, 4. Eat, if that gives you any idea of my priorities.

Burnout

This shit sucks!! You write 5k in one sitting and then nothing for the next eight months (I’m totally not speaking from experience... that would be.... ridiculous). It’s really disheartening, as it feels like you’ve lost all creative ability. You go to write but words Won’t Happen. The ideas don’t just turn stale; they disappear entirely.

It happens. Unfortunately, it does. Some people may call it writer’s block (which I could do an entire post about on its own, as it comes in so many different shapes and sizes) but in the end, all that matters is you Can’t Write.

Before you decide that writing just isn’t for you, take a moment to consider why you’ve burnt out. What external factors (school, work, social obligations) affected you? Were any internal factors (mental health, illness, bad break-up, etc.) getting in the way of your work? Is there anything you can do to ease those challenges?

You might be surprised to notice a few patterns. For example, I always struggled to write during a flare-up, or when my mental health got bad, or when school and work collided in disastrous ways. There isn’t always something you can do to fix those things, but just knowing that there’s a reason can be helpful.

Also, take note of when you start getting your mojo back. When do you notice the first ghostly shape of an idea taking form? When do you start itching to write? Music, relaxation, and days off can have a significant effect on your creative cycle.

In fact, your creative cycle will almost definitely insist you take days off. There’s a reason I don’t hold myself to more than 4 days of writing a week, and that’s because I know my limits. My idea-brain needs time to recharge, even if I can occasionally go weeks at a time without taking a break. (Which, for the record, usually results in burnout.)

Be kind to yourself. Take note of your patterns and play into them. Take time off, force yourself to write on the days when you know it’s just hell-brain throwing a tantrum, remember to eat and drink. You’d be surprised by how often burnout coincides with a decline in self-care.

Consistency

Routines aren’t all that matter. Consistency is key, and not for any of those bullshit “you’re not a real writer unless you write every day” reasons. Momentum is incredibly helpful, and you can’t build that unless you’re also developing good habits.

Routines can help build momentum, but the crux of it all lies in self-discipline. AKA ADHD hell.

Reward systems can help, as can accountability systems (like posting your writing progress every week...), but the biggest change for me was not any of that.

It was letting myself write badly, and celebrating those words anyway.

Sounds odd, right? Why would I celebrate what is objectively bad? It’s because a combination of ADHD-brain and my upbringing led me to develop a paralyzing case of perfectionism. What’s the point of writing it unless you do it perfect?

It’s better to write it badly and make sense of it later. As the saying goes, you can’t edit a blank page. Write badly. If you need to, turn the text the same color as the background so you can’t obsess over the quality. Write in Comic Sans (which is a very good font, but also incredibly difficult to take seriously) or something that you can’t read easily. Find a way to write garbage and then celebrate it. Celebrate the number, or the fact that you’ve gotten the dumbest version out and it can only get better from here.

By doing that, you allay fears of perfectionism. Practice makes perfect, and practice means several drafts, many of which will hurt to read. You’ll get better the more you write, and the more you write the easier it will be to push through the scenes that aren’t working. Hell, get into the practice of using brackets when you can’t think up the scene, or need a name, or need to do research, and just keep writing. No matter what, keep that momentum going.

If you need an outline to avoid getting lost, do that. If you need to feel free to explore the story without restraints, do that. Just write. Keep writing. It’s bad? Keep going. Your ideas will change; adapt to the new concept and make a note to yourself to fix the earlier aspects later. Keep going.

And there’s obviously more I can go on about, but these are the main things that helped me. (Apologies if the text gets thick at times. Writing is one of those things I can talk about forever when the mood strikes.) Please let me know if there’s anything else you want to know! If you have any questions, feel free to pop into my ask box! I’m happy to chat.

#writing advice #writing with ADHD #aj's advice #jesus CHRIST this bad boy got longe #long post #this is... 2k... why am i like this

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yestodaymvv · 6 years

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hogwarts!chenle

i’m a nerd for harry potter and so i had to make one lol sorry?? thank ya’ll for reading and i’m sorry if you didn’t want this to turn into a like, love? story au. i just had the perfect idea for chenle. keep out for the other member’s hogwarts au! i might make another one later tonight bc i have little hw and this was fun writing. thank you for reading <3

word count: 1.9k

okay so, chenle is part of a pureblood family

before he went to hogwarts, he already knew a bit about magic and what goes on in hogwarts

chenle already knew he was getting a hogwarts letter and was looking forward into the school year he would get into after he turned 11

chenle, since his birthday is on november, had to wait until the next school year to get his letter on september

so chenle was actually part of jisung’s school year

and obviously, they became bffs

so chenle and jisung met on the first day of school

they were on the train and all and chenle was a little ball of excitement and was making friends left and right

he decided to stay with jisung in the train ride

they talked about what houses they were hoping to get into

chenle was hoping to get into either gryffindor or ravenclaw

his father and mother were part of ravenclaw but his brother got into gryffindor

his family is really well known (perks of being part of a pureblood family)

and so he had some expectations to live up to

but it’s okay because zhong chenle doesn’t disappoint

so when they got to hogwarts and chenle was one of the last people being called for the sorting hat

chenle got into...

“ravenclaw!”

yaayyyy,, chenle is happy but he’s sad that he isn’t in the same house as jisung

okay so anyway, chenle is a really good student

he was continuously active throughout his hogwarts years

his best subject was potions and he made a special bond with the potion teachers

chenle was mostly already known by the teachers and whatever expectations they had for him an understatement to what chenle actually is

he always one of the top students

number one in potions class of course

chenle made friends with older students such as donghyuck, jeno, mark, jungwoo, sicheng

chenle was prefect during his 5th to 7th years of hogwarts

he was known as a nice person and he would constantly offer to tutor and help students in their studies

chenle is like, luna lovegood yea? or is it just me

so chenle at quidditch games

okay so obviously this dude has a ton of spirit

chenle would go all out for quidditch games

he would cheer and scream and yell

and hlaf of the time, chenle would commentate the quidditch games

chenle would make the game more interesting and no his voice/laugh would not be annoying

chenle, though was not allowed to commentate when it were games against ravenclaw

because he would just comment about how great his team is

sometimes, he would get carried away and yell through the microphone

“hey you idiot that’s the wrong goalpost!”

“that’s a foul! you’re not supposed to hit the bludger you’re not even a freaking beater for god’s sake!”

and yea

on games when it wasn’t against ravenclaw and chenle would be in the stands, chenle would cheer loud for his friends

chenle himself, wasn’t on the team because he was already fairly busy with his school work and prefect duties, but he would play quidditch with the other members during his free time

he would go on a neutral side and not wear the house colors other than his own

but he is always there to support jeno and jisung and mark and donghyuck

he would, of course, praise his team whenever they won against his friends

like “hey jeno, remember when ravenclaw totally DOMINATED hufflepuff??”

“mark, you should’ve known ravenclaw was going to win. you’re head got so big you fell off your broom”

and stuff like that

okay so aside from studies and extracurricular activities, chenle had a somewhat bad rep????

like he and the nct members would constantly get detention

so at the time chenle was a first year, basically every nct member minus taeil (because he graduated) was in hogwarts

right? cause it’s seven years? let’s just pretend that they are

and so can you imagine the chaos all of the would cause?

like holy

so all the teachers were proud of how chenle is such a good student in first year and how he wasn’t such a big trouble maker

but then he befriends donghyuck and jeno and jaemin and renjun

who in turn was friends with mark and lucas, who was friends with jungwoo, who was friends with jaehyun and sicheng and so on

and so all the teachers just had a mini heart attack at how the “troublemakers” of the school added chenle and jisung into their group

so it wasn’t rare that you would see chenle cleaning the trophy room or helping out professor mcgonagall in class

as the years went by and the older nct members started to graduate, it was eventually just down to jisung and chenle

don’t be fooled by the numbers, because what these two can do is ridiculous

like jisung is a gryffindor and chenle is a ravenclaw

chenle has the best ideas for pranks and jisung is the one who does all the dirty work

their most famous prank is when they bewitched the pieces of armor at school and would randomly jump at people as they passed by

or they would end up stalking a person or two throughout the day

chenle is just such a good student and he is so well known for being kind and helping and intelligent but also a fun and troublesome student love and appreciate him my boy

OKAY SO ON TO YOU AND CHENLE

so, you had chenle in your advanced potions class in 7th year

i won’t go into details how you met cause that all depends on your house

you walked into potions late first day of class and your friends in the class already decided to partner up with one another and so the only open seat was next to chenle

so you ended up being chenle’s partner for the rest of the year

it wasn’t bad

you heard a lot of great things about chenle

and through out the years, you were always competing against chenle for the top student in potions

it was always chenle though who got the top spot

so although you knew chenle was a good student

a very smart one

you were a bit bitter as to how you always came into second place against him

so when you and chenle started working together, you tended to act a bit cold towards him

and chenle didn’t like that

he liked making friends and he wanted to he friends with you

he always tried to make you laugh by telling you jokes

you just never really budged though

so eventually, chenle asked you about why you weren’t always nice to him

you were packing up your stuff, getting ready to go to lunch, when chenle tapped your shoulder

“hey, y/n?”

“chenle, i’m trying to go to lunch”

you said kinda coldy???

chenle looked a bit frightened and just starts speaking really fast

“ohimsorrytobotherbutijustreallywantedtoknowwhyoudontlikeme?”

you were kind of shocked

“what?”

“oh i said-“

“i know what you said. you think i don’t like you?

chenle looks at you all confused

“well yea? you never seem to have liked me and i just wanted to know what i did wrong. was it something i said? i did? i don’t want you going around hating me”

and you’re like shocked because damn, was i really that mean to chenle?

of course you liked chenle

you liked how he was always so nice to everyone he meets

how he’s one of those people who would smile and greet a hi or wave as he passes to class

you did find his jokes funny but you never laughed at them because your pride got in the way

you found how he was always willing to help first years on their studies

you also admired how chenle was a fun person to be around

and you were always very impressed by the pranks he and jisung always come up with

they were very intelligent and tended to cause you to laugh for days

you didn’t hate chenle no and you told this to him

“well, then why have you never been as nice to me as you are with others?”

well it was because you’re always better at potions than me you thought to yourself

chenle laughs “just because of that?”

you didn’t realize you said it out loud and now your cheeks were turning red

“ahh y/n, we missed the opportunity in becoming great friends for years just because you think i’m better at potions than you?”

you nodded, “i mean yea? you’re always so good and i always try so hard to beat you but you’re just so good!”

“y/n, you do know my father is a business man in a potions company right? of course i would be good at potions”

“OKAY WELL NOW THAT’S CHEATING”

chenle laughs

“don’t worry y/n. you’re great at potions, and i’m amazing at potions and we’re partners. we’re bringing everyone in this class down. we’ll be the top students”

he looks at you and you smile at him

“you got chenle”

throughout the year, you started becoming good friends with chenle

you took part in chenle and jisung’s pranks and also helped them come up with good ones

you always had a feeling that you liked chenle

and that maybe that was the reason why you never really was kind to him

one day, in potions, you professor slughorn was teaching about love potions

he was talking about amortentia, the strongest love potion

you and chenle were fooling around as you were drawing on his notes

professor slughorn asked you to state the facts and the effects of amortentia

you went on about the facts

“the smell of amortentia varies from different people. the smell that amortentia gives off to people would be the smell that one finds appealing”

professor slughorn then asks to share what you smell

“oh, i smell, peppermint and cedar wood and,,, strawberries??”

you froze when you said strawberries

why would you find strawberries appealing if you were allergic to them?

you knew exactly the reason why you smelled strawberries

and it had to do with the boy sitting next to you

you once acknowledged to chenle that he constantly smelled like strawberry milk because he mentioned that you smelled like coconuts

and that you didn’t like it because of how you were allergic to strawberries

chenle just laughed at you and said “that sucks, you’re missing out on the best fruit out there”

once professor slughorn started talking again, you continued to write notes while ignoring chenle

you were sure that he knew the reason why you smelled strawberries

it was because you liked him

class went on as you avoided eye contact with chenle and focused on writing notes

when class came to an end, chenle waited for you as you packed

you were the only one left in class and chenle was leaning on the doorway

as you walked past him, he put his arm around your shoulder

you looked up and say a small grin on his face as he said

“you know, i smelled coconuts from the amortentia potion”

#nct #nct dream scenario #nct dream #nct headcanon #nct dream headcanon #nct scenarios #nct chenle #zhong chenle #hogwarts nct #nct hogwarts #chenle headcanon #chenle scenario #ravenclaw!chenle #chenle au #chenle drabble

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