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#this is the second fic ive read in two days that started strong and then devolved into pro establishment propaganda
sempsimps · 2 days
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mychael and reader
i love mushroom oasis the vibe as a whole and the aesthetic i love it so much. and of course the mushroom boy mychael himself, and day 2 got my thinking about things, so i think i got the character right maybe and this is probably my shortest fic but the most wholesome a little context is that my version of the mc is that the reason they don't go outside much is hay fever and they miss doing stuff becuse their parents didn't let them out much so when they go out with mycheal in day two the get a new excitement to being outside.
tags:
taking a hay fever tablet/pill
the fluffiest fluff you could ever imagine
obviously this game is 16+ i believe so if your not that age tf you doing here
but this is so safe a baby could read it but don't becuse swears ig
the sun bleared onto my face my eyes slowly twitch and i stretched my limbs my hand knocking into skin and somthing fell on my face lightly and my eyes flutter open a tiny bit obscured by green and blue thing on my face.
"ah, sorry firefly i didn't mean to drop that on you"
"mh its okay i'm sorry for falling asleep and... on your lap it seems"
mycheal picked up the thing that landed on my face and i slowly sat up, yawning while rubbing my eyes to rid the tiredness. i looked towards mychael he was making a flower chain using the forget me not's, it looked pretty the blue was a lovely colour. he finished the last part of it and placed it on my head it fit quite nicely and was right above my ears resting.
"aw thank you mych"
i brightly smiled at him before i stood up and stretched with a satisfying click in my back and shoulder yawning briefly.
"by the way how long was i out for?"
mychael looked up at the sky and hummed, figuring out how much the sun moved.
"about an hour firefly"
"huh okay, best nap I've ever had"
i looked around i miss being outside, as i kid my parents never really let me out and i had the urge to climb a tree. 'ah that one looks easy enough' running over to the stump of the tree, i skipped onto the lowest bit that stuck out it was close to the ground using it to reach a big branch that was sturdy and i hoisted myself up, using the tree trunk as a foot hold doing so i got up to where my elbows were parallel to the branch but my foot slipped and chipped some bark of causing my balance to faulter and my arms wrapped around the branch to stop myself from falling off. 'shit' my feet dangled and i struggled to get them back on the tree trunk as i wasn't very strong.
"firefly what are you doing? ah! let me help you get down"
i felt hands on my waist and i stopped kicking my legs he was trying to pull me down but i used that to get up into the tree, i now sat on it crossed legged
"thank you!"
"what are you doing firefly?"
"tree"
"i can see that but why?"
mychael tilted his head confused, which soon turned to worry as i stood up on the branch and held my arms out to keep my balance, while mychael was panicking beneath me. i just laughed and sat on the branch near the tip. my legs locked over, it wobbled a little as i hung backwards over the edge. i was upside down so my shirt fell a little and the crown slipped off 'damn i was hoping that stayed on' i was now face to face with mychael my hand went out to boop him on the nose.
"hiya, boop!"
"firefly you need to get down, you could get hurt"
his voice clearly had worry in it but at that i started to swing my body and tried flipping forward onto my feat, but ended on my back. luckily the ground wasn't too far away and i landed in the flowers and grass a little winded but okay 'ow fuck that hurt'
"firefly! are you okay that was quite a harsh landing, i told you to be carful. you've winded yourself"
i laid there for a second and mychael was quick to my side and helped me sit up slowly with, a careful hand on my lower back and arm. i just softly giggled.
"well that was fun."
"that was dangerous not fun, hey! take it easy firefly"
"blah come on, ive missed the outdoors let me have some fun, oh by the way is there a river near by? this weather is boiling"
"okay then.... yeah lets go i need a drink, but a are you sure your okay i know that fall wasn't high but still"
i didnt have time to respond becuse i sneezed and my eyes were getting itchy from the grass and pollen 'ah damn hay fever' reaching over to where the flower crown landed and i put it on mychael's head although a little crooked.
"i made this for you, why are you giving it to me?"
"oh im allergic to pollen and my eyes are getting bad. anyway! where is this river you said there was, lets go"
"wait your allergic? isnt that a bad thing?"
"yeah ill talk about it on the way"
he nodded and mychael lead me to a path to the right of where we were, slowly walking to he river. i told him what hay fever was.
"so basically I'm allergic to grass and pollen, and many people have that and its called hay fever. it can causes various things like a runny nose, red or itchy or swollen eyes, coughing and sneezing, so its like a cold but for like half of the year."
"that sounds awful...."
"yeah but luckily i dont have it that bad compared to others, like i just sneeze and get itchy eyes which hopefully will be solved by some fresh water and one of my tablets"
i always kept a packet of tablets on my person just in case, and luckily i didnt forget to have them with me when i left the house to find my cat, and they were quite secure in my slim pocket.
"tablet? that's a type of medicine right?"
"yep, very useful in this day and age for anyone really"
continuing to walk with the living mushroom towards a water source to hopefully keep down the uncomfortable allergy and maybe have some fun in the river, like throwing stones or somthing 'oh that sounds fun ill do that' soon i could hear the water, and mychael moved a bush out of the way.
"okay firefly, we're here"
"nice. this should help a lot haha"
walking over to the water i sat down and popped open the packet putting one in my mouth, and then swiftly cupped my hands and drank the water to get it down me, i swallowed it to get rid of any thoughts, as it was hard for me to take pills. afterwards i stood up and walked along the rivers edge slowly, coming up to a big boulder to sit on. it was partly in the water it made a nice effect in the flowing liquid and i was feeling better by the second.
"that should do it, and maybe I'll climb another tree"
"absoulutly not"
mychael gave a small sigh from behind me, not opting to sit on the large rock but instead sat besides it, near the side of the river. and i laid back taking in the pretty blue sky with minimal clouds. taking a deep breath in 'I'm gonna need more of those during the summer.... he might not like it but i rather not feel dead'
"hey.... mychael i'm running out of the tablets ill need them if im going to live with you out here"
"you want to live with me?"
"yes absolutely! i wouldn't have to pay taxes, and well society sucks"
"that's great! but what are taxes?"
"don't worry about it, but i need those pills other wise i might be really sick forever, becuse of the pollen and like its April now and only going to get worse over the summer"
"we can go get them now?"
"if you help me get some stuff from my house, as well as getting those pills, and i know you might not want me to leave- wait for real?"
i stood up quickly and stood over in shock as i held out a hand for mychael which he accepted standing up as well.
"are you sure i was thinking you'd get possessive and worry i wouldn't come back in like an hour"
"what? that's dumb you need that medicine, so why wouldn't i let you get them?"
"oh right..... god why did i think that? that was dumb! anyway we should get my meds"
i laughed at my overthinking brain and mychael joined in. and started walking in a direction and i quickly followed happily 'living in the forest sounds like the best thing ever'.
okay so i dont know how to end this one so there we go im so happy i finally got this out of my head its been stuck there for ages and now its out also thanks you to my friend who gave me motivation to finish this for them as a token and introduction into tumbler.
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angeltuesday · 2 years
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Stories that I have been and still am utterly obsessed with
An in posterity list of all the fics that have caused me to read on buses, not study and take extra long walks to think about.
The Life and Times by Jewels5 - The one the only. Opened the flood gates. A religious experience and the first fan fiction I ever read. Theres just something magical about it.
And the Wolves All Cry by monroeslittle - All i can say is I started this at night during dissertation season, read it on the bus to the library and for hours at the library, then gave up before even opening my dis and went home to keep reading.
The Bet by @smileyjily  - j'adore. so so many great themes, games and side characters. Marlene’s articles have a spacial place in my brain.
An Unhealthy Fixation With Aurors by Oynnej - An A* plot and the most badass Lily Iv come across.
What Are You Doing To Me? by @tiffanytoms - Had me in a chokehold. Would cheek updates daily. Perfect ratio of smut, angst, mystery and fluff.
Stay Here Tonight by monroeslittle - Every single thing Monroeslittle writes in insanely good. Muggle Lily and wizard James au
Sunshine in My Eyes by monroeslittle - Same applies. James and Lily are childhood friends. Another Lily being incredibly badass story.
Love and Other Tragedies by Fancyeyes - Fantastic plot, strong Lily and one of the best oc’s ever created.
All Over Again by Lili Evans dotcom - Cant really remember but there was an epic twist and if something makes me cry it makes the list.
We Used to be Friends by baguette2016 - I love Jily and Veronica Mars is my favourite TV show. 
Among Her Least Favorite People by NajwaBarlaam - The first half of this just did something to me (I love pain apparently) I didn’t love where the second half went and maybe thats why I obsessively thought of other ways it could have gone.
Runaway Love by WhtChoc - I think I had just read one too many sweet canon stories and this was a shock to the system that rocked me. Very different from the usual Jily. Less a Jily story more just a story
If We Never Meet Again by thequibblah - I was in a fanfic slump and thought that maybe I had just read everything I was going to like when I stumbled across this and read it until it got light.
One shots/drabels 
Filthy by knapsackparachute - I want more. Smut with moral quandary?...
Vindicated by @missgryffin - I Want MORE. A* plot and second chance jily.
the stones that slow your feet by @argyledpenguin aka Monroselittle -  If its not already clear I am in love with everything she writes.
Let's do something you're not supposed to by Oynnej - all of Oynnej’s stuff in quickly fun.
Tempestuous by Jasu - Cant super put my finger on it but I read it then forgot the name and then spent an hour trying to find it so it must have had a something something to it.
WIP’s 
Secret Keeper by missgryffin - Im currently obsessed with, the one im checking up on compulsively and waking up to read when the notifications comes in late at night.
and all the pieces fall by - @downn-in-flames Had to google synonyms for obsessed: hounded, tormented, consumed and bedevilled.
These Cruel Delights by @chiechie97 - I grew up in fashion and its fun to see a world I know + the chemistry is hot.
Come What May by @cesays - More synonyms beguiled and bewitched. A Moulin Rouge au
Controlled Addiction by @hogwartslivy - Love the concept, imagery and drama.
to love, softly by @theesteemedladydebourgh - Only two chapters but Im hooked
Eternal Summer by missgryffin - So fun to see a Hogwarts fic where they are actually a couple and not just the build up.
Tiny Miracles by Chiechie97 - Love me a surprise baby
Stories from other ships that are too good not to include 
The Fallout by Everythursday- No words, one of my favourite things ever written, ever! I could go on for days about how brilliant it is but I but also couldn’t t because id cry. I didn’t ship dramione before reading it and I still don’t really but I ship everythursday’s version INTENSELY.
Have Heart, My Dear by monroeslittle - Hunger Games au
I dreamed you a sin (and a lie) by monroeslittle - The 100 mafia au with undercover Bellamy and Clark
Love is Not a Whisper (or a weakness) by monroeslittle - The 100 au
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chihirolovebot · 2 years
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Okay okay, I’ve been reading Sleep Awake since about November now, and I am IN LOVE WITH IT. The characters are so accurate, and I feel like I love several characters more than I used to. You just made them so likable and even gave them well deserved attention! (Especially Rantaro). I also love how you include the reader and have things change because of them, so it’s not like they’re just there observing. Anyways, sorry, it’s just so amazing. TO THE POINT. Ive been wondering this for a while, why did you start writing it, and did you have any clue what you wanted to happen later in the story at the beginning? I’m not sure if you answered this, but I’m just super curious. Please take your time to answer this, and take care of yourself! (Help why was this so long I’m so sorry🧍)
sleep awake spoilers, drv3 spoilers
oh my gos no this is lovely!!! i rly do love receiving long messages like these they make my day!! i’m so glad ur enjoying sleep awake beloved :’)
as for why i decided to write it. genuinely the brainrot was just too strong. i had this idea of a reader insert participating in chapter 3 as a fix-it, because ch3 is my least favourite in the game and i was disappointed in the wasted potential of not having two killers. and i wanted a reader insert because that’s how my hyperfixations kind of manifest, it’s my main form of enjoyment when i begin to hyperfixate on something and consume content.
so there’s that. as for the other question. kind of? as i said, the whole story was borne out of getting to chapter 3 and messing stuff up. so i had in my head like major plot points, like the reader being accused of rantaro’s murder, kirumi betraying the reader, several kokichi scenes, and reader killing kiyo. but all the connecting tissue was made up as i went along. the relationships reader has w the other students were almost entirely unplanned - i knew i wanted them to be close to rantaro and for the locker trio to remain a close thing throughout, but i genuinely didn’t plan on making the reader so close w characters like tenko, kirumi and more recently maki. that just kind of transpired as the text went along and i’m pretty happy with it. in fact, i kind of wish i’d spent more time on the readers relationships with like, tsumugi and miu and himiko but, i guess they can’t be friends with everyone.
i also had a little list i wrote near the beginning of the story, maybe like two chapters in, of scenes i wanted to write at some point. most of them have occurred as of now, but it’s fun to look back and see how some of the original vision has changed.
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so, most of these have happened. flower crowns w gonta, the second one in the second interlude after the third trial, the third, fourth and fifth. the partially degraded danganronpa on readers collar was changed to ‘memory’ on their arm because i didn’t want them to use the memory flashback lights and at the end of the day i thought them having the word danganronpa on them wouldn’t effect the story, since obviously they wouldn’t remember what it was. the next three didn’t happen - the writing things on their skin was just a quirk i have that never made it in, the whiteboard thing just never made it in, same with the next one. anyway, just thought it was neat.
thank u for this question!! i had a lot of fun answering it, i love to ramble abt my little fic. thank u for sticking with it for so long!! i’ll see u with the update on the 25th (the one year anniversary!!!)
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honeyhuii · 2 years
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for the ask game! 💖🌞🤲🏼
🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?
💖 What made you start writing?
🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?
Duckie thank you so much for sending in an ask! So I prefer to writing late night at like midnight to like 4am cuz its when im the most creative and awake.
Ive been a very avid fanfic reader and have been reading it since was like 11 or 12. I actually wrote anime fanfiction when i was like 13 😭 but I didnt start writing for kpop idols until last year because some friends influenced me to write and I just have loved writing my entire life.
So for the wip snippet, I'll give you a fic I have been working on since last year! Its called Rosez and Sellouts which is a Yeonjun x Reader fic that I started to write because of his artist of the month on studio choom! I also am trying to write in a new pov so tell me what you think of first pov!
Force started to play as Yeonjun goes backstage while everyone is singing to retrieve the rose. He came out a second later, with the flower behind his back. He sings his part and hops off the stage. He walks around for a second, pretending like he wasn’t going to go to me. He knew exactly where I was sitting and the path to get to me, but he had to put a little show on first. He slowly walked to me and continued to sing.
“君と未来を守りたいんだ (I want to protect my future with you),” Yeonjun looks deeply into my eyes as he sings those words and hands me a lavender rose. His rose colour. He’s never actually given someone his representative rose. He usually gives them a peach coloured rose as a sense of gratitude for loving him as a fan. But with the lavender rose meaning being such a strong embodiment of emotion, he’s never been able to give someone the colour that represents him.
I knew the meaning of the rose colour. A lavender rose represents enchantment or love at first sight. That’s why it represents him, one glance at Yeonjun and people usually are enchanted by his talent and fall in love at first sight by his personality. It meant a lot for Yeonjun to be giving me his flower. What I expected from him was to hand it to me and walk away, but Yeonjun had other plans.
Yeonjun grabbed my hand that wasn’t holding the rose and pulled me in closer. He kept singing...to me. I felt as if we were the only two people in the stadium. Staring into my eyes、 “草原のような force だな ( Just like the meadows. It’s the force).” I could feel the sparks between us, it was electrifying. It’s just like magic.
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daedalusdavinci · 2 years
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1, 3, 5, 6, 10, 11, 13, 16, 20, 23, 24
send an ask: get to know your author
good god dirt. ok, putting this under the cut bc holy shit
1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?
yeah, definitely. theres some longer ideas i have for batman fics that i dont wanna commit to yet, largely because im still learning how to write characters with did and im still fresh into comics, and i want to read more comics before i start writing a character im not as familiar with, yknow? like, i feel like i really need to read more stuff w the arrow fam and the bat fam especially before i go just saying things lol
3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?
chronological babey. i take it one chapter at a time. sometimes if im frustrated ill skip ahead a little bit or leave it as a rough draft and fix it later while i move on, but thats not especially common for me
5) character you were most surprised to end up writing
answered!
6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now
id make level 2 shorter. i wrote so much for it i dont wanna just not post the whole thing but i really dont like the second half as much. i think id also make ammfh more playful and less. personal. there wasnt as much emphasis on john being a trickster as i originally wanted and instead i spent more time like venting through the fic which feels. very exposed and strange now
10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?
i usually write w music or white noise in the background depending on how much focus i have! thats why some fics have white noise generators recommended in the notes
11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?
ah jeez idk. i think i might be better at the flowery stuff and just like wording things? getting the right vibe down yknow
13) your strengths as an author
i think ive always had pretty strong dialogue. ive gotten better obviously, but its always been one of the easier parts of writing
16) are there any characters who haunt you?
answered!
20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?
a mix tbh. depends on how much time/focus/motivation i have yknow? like sometimes ill pump out 5k in one day and sometimes ill just write a sentence or two before bed. all depends
23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?
i guess rping lol idk being a fmst major i think helps me tackle more sensitive issues in my writing better maybe?
24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?
see. i have absolutely googled weird obscure knowledge for a story. however. the moment i finish writing it it leaves my brain again. nothing sticks. also i have a healthy appreciation for "no one gives a shit it doesnt matter" and i will just throw guns in a fantasy setting bc i dont care and cant be assed to do research. its fan fiction not brain science. pay me if you want better quality
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pigstepping · 3 years
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retroaria · 3 years
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Sapnap: Fluff Alphabet
cc!Sapnap x reader
pronouns: gender neutral
warnings: just swearing
here’s my 500 Follower Event ^o^
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A is for Affection (How do they like to show affection?)
sapnap would give you so many compliments omg. he loves making you all smiley and blushy :) he just wants to make sure that you are always aware of the fact that he thinks you’re the most perfect thing to ever exist
B is for Bond (What kind of bond do you guys have? What could your relationship be labeled as?)
the best friend couple!!! sapnap tells you literally everything. any drama going on or any strong emotions he’s feeling, you know about it. most of the time, the second something happens his brain immediately goes “omg i have to tell y/n”. you guys always complain about the same things and get excited over the same things. you are genuinely one of the most important people in his life and he doesn’t know how he’d do it without you.
C is for Comfort (How do they comfort their s/o?)
he will literally drop everything just to hold you and not speak for like hours if you so needed. he strikes me as a naturally comforting person to the people he really cares about so I say he gets an A+ in this department
D is for Dates (What are dates with them like?)
dates with sapnap are either really chill or super fun. he’s the type of guy that would take you to play laser tag or to an arcade or a trampoline park. he’s like a little kid i love sapnap :3
E is for Emotions (How do they express their emotions around you?)
he’s a pretty expressive person when it comes to certain things. at the very least he definitely wears his heart on his sleeve a little so it isn’t hard to tell even if he does try hiding stuff. and like I said he tells you everything.
F is for Fiancé (How long into the relationship before they propose?)
I feel like he’s so young and he really just wouldn’t be thinking about that too seriously for awhile. like he loves you and you guys have talked about having a future together but he isn’t in any rush at all. hell just do it when he feels is the right time not matter how long it takes.
G is for Gentle (Are they gentle?)
it depends on the situation. he’s definitely the type of guy to pick you up from a super comfy position and just body slam you on the bed. but if he can tell you’re not in the mood to play around like that he’ll just sit down and hold you, so yeah he can be gentle. but most of the time be prepared for playful fist fights and getting picked up and thrown every now and then lol.
H is for Hand Holding (How do they like hand holding?)
sapnap always holds your hand. in fact he makes an effort to search for it whenever you aren’t holding hands. and sometimes he’ll even get whiny about it especially with like a lot of people around he’ll be like, “babe, why aren’t you holding my hand :( what if I get lost how are you gonna find me this place is big”
I is for I Love You (Who said “I love you” first?)
he did !! the first time sapnap said “I love you” was probably one of his most confident moments. he was so proud to be able to say it and so sure of himself and his feelings for you.
J is Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)
YES OH MY GOD. he gets super jealous and it’s so easy to tell omg. his attitude starts to get like super bad and he is very clearly annoyed by the situation. he won’t ever be too overbearing about it and if you ever feel like he is once you sit him down and explain that he’ll back off a bit. but he’s still gonna be bothered by it so just always remind him that he love him and no one else.
K is for Kiss (What’s kissing them like?)
THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IM ACTUALLY GOING TO BE DESCRIPTIVE SO IM SORRY IF ITS CRINGE. anyways, he’d be a pretty deep kisser but not like full on making out every single time. he just likes to make them last and he isn’t one to just give you random kisses all throughout the day so it always feels special. kissing him makes you feel all warm and happy inside.
L is for Love Language (What’s their love language?)
sapnaps love language is quality time or acts of service!! i’d say mainly quality time. even while long distance he just likes having you on call while he does stuff or even just complaining to you about how tired he is while actively not going to bed so he can keep talking to you lol. he just likes having you around it’s a huge comfort for him. i say acts of service because he would get so giddy and happy anytime you did something special for him. he would show it off and brag about it forever and it would genuinely mean so much to him aahhajdxh i love sapnap
M is for Memories (Their favourite memory with their s/o?)
For your first time seeing each other irl, sapnap flew to where you live and you guys spent a whole week together. his favorite memories are definitely from that first week of seeing each other in person. of course you guys already had an amazing relationship while long distance, but there’s something so different about finally meeting the person you’re with in real life. it felt like he had to start over from scratch and you guys had to get to know each other all over again. also the idea of now having to build a physical bond. it was just such an amazing and beautiful experience. definitely the one that made him realize he really is in love with you.
N is for Nicknames (Their favourite nicknames given and received?)
IM SO BAD AT THINKING OF CUTE NAMES USHSJDH. probably just babe tho lol. for fem!readers, i can totally picture him using princess in a slightly sarcastic tone.
O is for Open (At what point do they start opening up to you about their life and feelings?)
mmm i’d say he actually starts opening up to you pretty early into the relationship. If you guys were like really close friends before hand he’s definitely already opened up to you. He doesn’t really have that many people in his life that he doesn’t trust.
P is for PDA (Are they into PDA?)
not really but he isn’t like super shy about it if that makes sense ??? like he’s 100% fine with hand holding, hugging, and light pecks when saying hello or goodbye.
Q is for Quiz (How much do they remember about you?)
I don’t think he really tries to remember stuff but he just does and he’s always making connections to you and things he sees and stuff it’s so cute :)
R is for Romantic (How romantic are they?)
he tries but he isn’t exactly the most romantic boy. like I said before you guys have a best friend type of connection so when it comes to romance he doesn’t go too above and beyond because he just doesn’t feel like he needs to. but on special occasions he will do something nice for you. He likes taking you out places !!
S is for Security (How protective/possessive are they?)
very much of both. once again, total sapnap vibes. i’d say he’s a lot more possessive than protective. he would never stop you from doing things like going out without him and having guy friends or making flirty jokes. he trusts you so much partly cus he’s a little narcissistic LMAO. but when a serious threat comes about he can get kinda crazy.
T is for Try (How much effort do they put into the relationship?)
GAAAAAA HE PUTS SO MUCH EFFORT IN!! you would probably be like his first ever serious partner so he would try his best at literally everything. in the beginning of the relationship you could totally tell how nervous he was at times but as you guys got more comfortable he just became an effortlessly amazing bf
U is for Uphold (How do they show you they’re proud? What kind of support do they give you?)
he talks about you so muchjahsjxjxh mostly to dream and george or on stream and he brags about you too. he can get pretty cocky about it but his friends can’t get mad because it’s literally adorable how whipped he is.
V is for Vaunt (Do they like to show off?)
YES OF COURSE !!! it’s sapnap guys…come on. literally any little accomplishment you make is turned into a way bigger deal than it should be because of him. he’s so proud of for literally just existing and he talks about all the cool stuff you’ve done all the time
W is for Wild Card (A random fluff headcanon.)
you guys really like going to different food places and eating different items compared to other places. THIS IS SO RANDOM LMAOO but like…sapnap would definitely have fun doing that
X is for X-ray (How well can they read you and your emotions/feelings?)
mmm he can usually tell if you’re acting strange or being distant. he cant always figure out exactly what’s wrong but he knows it’s something and he would confront you about it like almost immediately or whenever he thought would be a good time for you
Y is for Yearning (How much do they miss their s/o when they’re gone?)
he literally talks about you non stop when you’re apart. and when you guys are on the phone he comes up with all these plans for you guys to do when you see each other again and he always wants you to join vc on his streams if you can. in conclusion he misses you like crazy
Z is for Zebra (What kind of pet would they want with their s/o?)
A CAT!! or like a bearded dragon lol.
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IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN GONE FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS HAGSKDHD
school is literally kicking my ass so hard man 😔
i’m gonna try to write more, working on a karlnap weed fic rn too LMAO
I’m taking a major creative writing class rn so between writing for school and writing for tumblr i am so drained but i promise i’ll get back into the swing of things soon :)
love you guys, thank you for everything and stay safe <333
@crackityy @fantasy-innit @joyfullymulti @k-l-a-w-s
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yesimwriting · 3 years
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hiii, this might seem weird but do u have any head cannons for when the reader is pregnant and how the Darkling would react?
a/n love this concept,, it's not weird at all!! i feel like there's so much here!! also i leave for college this month and im lowkey starting to freak out so ive been watching star wars movies for comfort 😭and now i have half a mind to write for them, especially the prequels (cough, cough,, anakin) 😭 😭 that should tell you where i am mentally
anyways lets get into the headcanons:))
--
- okay so like most of my headcanons, this is probably going to be all over the place bc i feel like so many different things could change how he would react. Like if the darkling x reader have been trying to get pregnant, or an unplanned pregnancy with someone he really likes, i also think whether or not the reader is a grisha affects his reaction too
- in general though, i think he'd lowkey have a breeding kink he'd def find something about the thought of you having his child really attractive bc for one thing, he wouldn't have to worry about being left alone and now he has an excuse to be a real 'protector'.
- also if youve read my other headcanons i am 100000% convinced that he has this thing where if he really likes someone he needs them to need him (let's all remember the whole 'i will strip you of everything you know and love speech until I'm your only shelter' speech he gave to Alina)
- also i kinda want to write a fic or blurb series or something that's just the darkling being super toxic in super thoughtful ways LMAO if that makes sense, like he's being super sweet but it's to make sure the reader is dependent on him
- and he def wants to be the protector to give himself some sense of assurance bc he's so desperate to not be alone anymore and bc the reader is the only person he has/loves, he wants to feel in control and like he's the less attached one
- okay,, let's get back to the pregnancy thing, anyways, your pregnancy is most definitely activating all of those senses and this was meant to be a sub plot but it kind of became it's own thing lol
- so lets get to the actual pregnancy reaction
if you two have been trying to get pregnant:
- when you tell him, he kind of like, pauses bc it's not every day that he gets surprised so it takes him a moment to register that he's experiencing shock lol, so he tenses and goes islent
- and then after he realizes that he's surprised and that it's bc of a good thing, he manages to relax
- meanwhile you're kind of freaking out bc he got so quiet?? you start to wonder if he's regretting ever wanting a child with you? and you're like two seconds away from a downspiral and then he...
- he touches your cheek and looks at you in a way you've never seen him look at anyone,, not even you
- the look is so warm and strong and full of fierce admiration that you feel foolish for ever thinking he didn't want this. And then he says something about how you're carrying his child and how he didn't realize he could adore you more and then he kisses you and it's all :)) warm:)
- he doesn't want anyone to know that he's expecting a child as long as possible bc of how many enemies he has and how he has to worry about you enough when people just know that you're his 'lover' (a title you never really liked, but one he tells you is necessary to make sure no one realizes the extent of his attachment)
- if you really want to tell your mother or someone of that relation, he won't be mad about it, but he just needs to know
- Genya is the only exception bc the darkling basically instructs her to look out for you,, but when you tell her she's like oh?? you guys just found out?
- miss girl most definitely noticed like a day and a half ago after you cried bc she couldn't find you ice cream the other night 😭and she just assumed you knew but weren't ready to tell anyone
- okay so this what i think is his most problematic expecting father trait would be. So i just ranted about how important secrecy would be to him but he's also the most overprotective person in the entire world,, like he was bad before but once he knows your with child?? yeah, if a man asks you about the weather, he's done for
- he's next to you in a second, ordering either you or the man to do some asinine task
- if you get mad about this (rightfully so) or even just point out how nothing is wrong and you having a casual conversation with a man who isn't even looking at you sexually won't hurt you or the baby, he'll lose rationality
- it depends on how much you push, but it'd be super easy to make him super possessive bc like i said, being bonded by a child has made him so much more intense (and he was pretty intense before)
- and if you push too much he'll lowkey forget about how cautious he's trying to be with you and pin you against the nearest wall and say something along the lines of 'are you already forgetting you're mine? that i own you, body and soul--is my child growing in you not enough of a reminder? because i'll give you another one if you need it.' (AH--i want to write a whole fic based on this line)
- also if the reader is grisha, especially if she's a sun summoner/special grisha like him, he def talks about the power that they've created and how proud he already is and how he can't wait to train together and be the most powerful family in the world
- not everything is perfectly happy though, bc now he feels more pressure to complete his plan and establish the world he wants his child to be born into
- so sometimes when he's working extra hard or is extra aggressive for no reason, you have to work at calming him down and reminding him that the best thing he can do for his child is be there for them (and the child's mother,, lol)
- sometimes he'll respond by actually listening to you and trying to make up for his absence or his aggression by being extra soft until you finally forgive him
- you never last that long, it's hard to be mad at him when he's coddling you and whispering such sweet things about he's so happy to have you and your future child
- overall, his first reaction is to swell with emotion, which he isn't used to, and so he becomes super protective but also extra lovey and you know that his overreactions are just him trying to show that he cares about you and your future child more than anything
If the pregnancy was unplanned:
- the initial reaction is pretty similar, only his state of shock lasts longer
- like i said at the beginning, he's not used to being surprised and an accidental pregnancy is so much more surprising than a planned pregnancy
- this really sucks for you bc he's not exactly known for his patience so you just kinda sit there and genuinely wonder if you're going to be a single mom or if you're going to want to deletus the fetus or something
- but then he takes a step towards you and you see how he's looking at you and you just know that that fierceness has to mean something good
- and at this point you're scared and nervous and feel so alone so tears are pricking at your eyes,, so he wipes his thumb across your cheek to wipe away tears you won't let spill
- he then whispers something really sweet about how you two are now together forever, as you should be
- it's really relieving bc you felt so alone and uncertain and he's such a smooth speaker that by the end of the night, you feel like this is a good thing
- if youre still hesitant/weighing your options, he's not above trying to (gently) manipulate you into thinking that what he wants may be the only way
- by that,, i don't mean outright tricking you bc he means everything he says, but he def is pushing the keeping the baby agenda,, especially if you're a grisha,, and even more so if you're a grisha with similar power levels to him
- he won't get angry at first bc he's not so out of touch that he's unaware of how shocking a pregnancy is to a woman who wasn't planning one,, but his patience is limited and if you fight it too much he will get mad and yell
- but unless you really don't want to have a child, it won't get to that bc he makes the idea of having a baby with him sound so perfect?? like you genuinely don't understand how he did that
- he chases away all of your worries and assures you that youre not alone and that even though it isn't planned he wouldn't rather anyone else carry his child
- the initial conversation would probably end in you two sleeping together again bc he finds the fact that you're carrying his child so attractive and bc being aware of the pregnancy makes him more possessive
- it's also a good way to fight any of your doubts
- speaking of being possessive though,, i feel like he could be a little more possessive/protective of a reader who didn't plan on getting pregnant bc your relationship has been less established
- no one sees you as anything to him and he doesn't want to start rumors now bc it's important to him that his enemies don't find out about you or his future child so he doesn't want that to change
- but he almost forgets about all of those reasons each time he sees a man get a little too close,, especially if that guy is flirty
- it takes all of his will power to not just go 'she's mine and if i wasn't worried about the stress that witnessing something violent would cause our unborn child, you'd be dead already, but if you're not gone by the time i turn around, i'll forget about caution'
- lots of close calls ngl!! at one point youre like 'if it bothers you so much, maybe you should tell someone??' and he's like 'no,, maybe,, shut up' and then you raise one eyebrow and he just closes his mouth and is like 'i mean,, i'll kiss you to shut you up, haha--dont be mad'
- youre the one that's pregnant but sometimes you think he might be the one experiencing the mood swings i swear 😭
- so your little theory gets tested,, he's not the type to gossip with his besties and be like 'guess who's officially my girlfriend, i knocked her up but it's not like it sounds--'
- so he's like ig you can tell genya
- once again genya is like ?? yall thought you were keeping that secret? couldn't be me
- but having it a little out in the open helps ease him just enough that youre actually capable of consoling him when he becomes jealous
- still though,, he's quick to go into possessive/pregnancy kink sex
- youre most def not mad about it,, unless pregnancy has you particularly sore
- he's normally pretty understanding about that and def doesn't mind pulling his weight in the bedroom when he needs
- honestly he'd be really good at being a source of calmness at the beginning, but as time goes on he becomes more and more worried about finishing his plans bc he didn't expect to have a child right now
- so he'd be more adamant about working/becoming more tense and would be more difficult to console if it was an accidental pregnancy
- when you call him out on it--or on anything while your pregnant--it's frustrating for you both bc the number one thing everyone knows is stress is bad for baby, so he's trying to keep you calm without backing down
- these argument always end with one of you clinging to the other,, and then the more angrier of the two just like shuts up, rolls their eyes, and lets go of the argument...at least for now
- the main difference between an accidental and intentional pregnancy would probably be how you perceive him,, bc an intentional pregnancy means youve talked about things but since you havent talked about anything your shocked about how soft he becomes ??
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
The Five Scares (and one revenge)
Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Warnings: Swearing 
Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: Having a tendency to scare people, Corpse has gotten used to his friends being jumpy whenever he appears from the void into a Discord call with them. However, the one who has it the roughest with the spooks has to be his partner Y/N. Basically: The five times Corpse scared Y/N and the one time they scared him
Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your lovely request it was a real joy to write and I had a ton of fun doing so! Hope you have equally as wonderful of a time if you happen to come across it and give it a read despite the long wait you’ve had to endure which I apologize for. Love, Vy ❤
I
Having had to go home for the night to keep an eye on their roommate’s dog, Y/N and Corpse agreed to have a video call before they fell asleep. They didn’t want to appear like that typical clingy and cheesy couple but after spending almost a whole week curled up in Corpse’s apartment, the two would feel each other’s absence to a very saddening degree to the point where they’d even forget the other isn’t around and would call out to them. 
Letting the call ring, Y/N’s hand comes up to smooth out their hair. However, the touch reveals to them that their hair needs a bit more than a simple tap or a pat to be tamed so while they wait for Corpse to answer the call, they quickly head to their bathroom. Flicking the light on, their reflection greets them with the underwhelming news of the actual state of their hair at the moment: an absolute mess. They proceed to do their best with the single hair-tie they have handy. A bobby pin or two would be neat but they have no time to go and grab one right now, seeing as how they can’t recall if they even brought them back from Corpse’s apartment. If they didn’t, they would have to search their roommate’s room for some which would take an even longer amount of time.
Eventually, they manage to tame it in something closely resembling a presentable ponytail and exit the bathroom feeling more exhausted than before. With a loud sigh, they crash onto their bed, face-first into the sea of pillows, groaning at the slight sting of their muscles relaxing at last.
“Y/N?“ The decently loud mention of their name by a deep, familiar yet sudden and unexpected voice startles them to the point of squealing and jumping an entire inch away from where they were positioned.
They look around their room in a frenzy, wondering where on Earth that voice came from and how it could be here with them right now.
“Y/N, you there?”, before they could locate it, it emerges once again, helping Y/N get an ide of where it’s coming from - somewhere in the messed up bed sheets.
“Corpse?“ They finally find their voice, “Y-yeah I’m here. Question is: how are you...“ and then it all clicks, causing them to twist their face in an expression of utter disappointment and bury it in the palms of their hands, groaning.
“You forgot about the video chat, didn’t you?“ Corpse asks, amusement not even attempted to be hidden in his voice.
“Yup.“
II
It’s been one hell of a day. Y/N’s college lectures exhausted them to a max and their six hour job following their classes did nothing to help them AT ALL. Quite the opposite actually. Makes sense why they look, move and talk the way they’re doing right now: like a ghost, zombie and an elder combined in one. To add to their misfortunes for the day, they were met with the mocking ‘OUT OF ORDER’ sign taped to the doors of the elevator, laughing in their face with the information that their hellish experience for the day is far from over.
Just the thought of having to climb to the fifth floor made their stomach turn in the most unpleasant way possible, but the though of how long that would take made matters even worse. Arriving at their designated apartment, they have every right to be pissed, cussing their heart out. 
However, then comes a new problem: the inability to pinpoint the correct key. They proceed to curse themselves, the keys, the door handle and the door itself before punching the poor wood that did no wrong and just stands here, serving its purpose of keeping unwanted people out of the apartment it’s guarding.
Following their anger outburst and front-door-abuse, they proceed to try finding the correct key once again, this time slightly more calmly as to not accidentally miss it in their frantic rifling.
Right as they’re about to try the third key, however, the door opens. Well, it’s opened by someone on the other side, that someone being none other than their boyfriend Corpse who’s currently staring at them wide-eyed, one eyebrow raised, the word ‘confused’ basically written across his face.
While he’s processing the sight in front of him, Y/N lets out a little scream, jumping back and away from the door, a hand placed over their chest as their wide eyes scan their boyfriend who now seems equally terrified as a result of their reaction.
“Corpse?!“ They manage to gasp, barely hearing their own voice over the loud thumping of their heart and the rush of blood in their ears, “What the hell are you doing here?!“
The confusion on Corpse’s face deepens, reaching whole new levels as his eyes gaze deeper into theirs, searching for the meaning behind their bizarre question. “You mean...at my own apartment? What am I doing, at home?“
For a few seconds, the two just stare blankly at one another, processing everything that’s just happened. Suddenly, it all just kinda caves for Y/N and they burst out laughing, doubling over, their arms clutching at their stomach as they do so. Their laughter is contagious, so Corpse can’t help but let out a few chuckles himself.
“Alright, you’ve been driven to insanity, I can tell.“ He mumbles at his reckless partner, coming up behind them and wraps his arms around them, lifting them up and carrying their laughing ass inside.
III
Finally deciding to sit down and get this damn project started, Y/N already feels like they’ve had enough of it, burnout already creeping in and threatening to ruin their work and trip them up every step of the way. It wouldn’t have been so bad had the subject not been one they absolutely despise and wish they could get out of studying but alas they’re stuck with it.
They equip their headphones as soon as they plant their butt on the desk chair in their tiny room in their tiny roommate-shared apartment, putting their Spotify playlist on shuffle as they open a blank Power Point document. They work better with music blasting in their ears since the silence tends to be too loud and distracting when they’re trying to focus. So, that way they can also sing their heart out in peace and not get disturbed by the sound of their own off-key singing. Win-win, basically.
Singing ‘Never Forget You’ by Zara Larsson and MNEK, they get a little carried away, ditching the project to enter a full-blown music video they can imagine down to the detail in their mind.
However, there’s a surprise awaiting them.
As soon as MNEK’s part of the song begins, another voice apart from his echoes through their headphones, singing along to the song. Freaking the fuck out, they let out a loud scream, smacking the headset off them, sending the object falling and landing on their laptop keyboard with a crash that only serves to further startle their roommate’s dog which comes to check if they are being attacked or something only to be disappointed by the lack of action.
When pushing the headphones off, they did so with a force strong enough to snap the cable out of the laptop entirely so now the room is filled with the sound of that same foreign voice laughing his ass off.
A voice that belongs to no other than Corpse Husband himself.
“You gotta learn to disconnect from Discord calls, Y/N.“ The fucker says, still cackling wholeheartedly at his partner’s misery.
Pissed off or not, Y/N would have to admit he’s got a point. But they’d also rather never speak again than admit it so...
“Fuck you!“ is what they say instead, seconds before disconnecting.
IV
Making breakfast is not something either Corpse or Y/N are used to, mostly cause they both either wake up late or skip the meal entirely. Regardless, having been given a day off from work and having no classes since it’s Saturday, Y/N saw no better way to start their day off than to prepare a nice breakfast for them and their boyfriend to enjoy. Problem is: they aren’t the most skilled in the kitchen. Sure they can scramble an egg or make mac and cheese, but in order to do it correctly they are not allowed to have distractions of any kind. Not even music, that’s how you know it’s serious.
Seeing as how Corpse has never seen them cook, he’s obviously unaware of theirs. The dummy straight up waltzes into the kitchen, unintentionally remaining unspotted and unheard by Y/N because he’s barefoot and because they have their back turned to him.
“Whatya cooking over there babe?“
Y/N’s focus bubble, being as thin as it is and considering they initially thought Corpse was still asleep, they have every right to let out the yelp they just did, dropping the egg they were gonna crack over the pan in said pan in its entirety - yes, shell and all.
A moment of silence commences: regretful on Corpse’s end and frustrated on theirs. Neither of them dares to say anything to avoid triggering the other. Well, that’s the case until Y/N decides enough’s enough and they turn to look at him, a wide, obviously fake smile plastered onto their face.
“Scrambled eggs, following a secret recipe, property of the L/N family.“
Seems like your pre-breakfast snack is an extra large dose of sarcasm, huh?
V
“So, how was your day? You sound pretty chipper so I take it wasn’t a nightmare like a few days ago.“ Corpse comments over the phone, listening to shuffling and shifting as Y/N moves around the apartment, getting ready to head out.
“It was great actually. Got some important results back and, not to brag or anything, but they were higher than I expected.“ They reply, a genuine wide grin refusing to leave their face as they silently count the amount of money they’ve got in their wallet. “I’m gonna go buy a cake so we can celebrate it. It’s no small deal, trust me, especially not when I initially thought I’d fail both these exams to the point of being pitied.“
“Wait...-“ Corpse attempts, his voice suddenly sounding strained and urgent but that’s the very reason he cannot seem to find or get the right words out of his system. Not that Y/N gives him any time to figure it out.
“No Corpse, you cannot change my mind. Cake and beers, we’re celebrating toni- SHIT!“ They scream as they throw open the front door, bumping square into someone standing on the other side, almost dropping their phone.
Taken aback by embarrassment and fear, they leap back, their eyes searching for the ones of the person whose personal space they just invaded. Well, to be fair, he was the one invading their personal space by standing right outside the door to their - well, to Corpse’s apartment.
The fear and irritation die down almost instantly when Y/N recognizes the person standing opposite them.
“Mind telling me why we’re talking on the phone when you could’ve come in and we could’ve had a normal person conversation?!“ They snap, ironically enough - they’re still holding the phone to their ear.
So is Corpse whos is smiling guiltily, “That’s why I called, I forgot my keys, but I got...carried...sorry.”
Well, at least this serves as proof Y/N’s not the only forgetful one.
                                                            ~  ~  ~
Corpse has been stuck in his recording room for four hours now, never stopping his stream to take care of his basic human needs such as eating or going to the bathroom. This behavior of his has Y/N worried sick and unable to focus on the task at hand - an assignment they’ve been trying to finish for two hours now, sitting with their computer on their lap and looking hopelessly at the blank Word document waiting for them to fill it up while they are waiting for it to start writing itself.
Seeing as how neither are gonna happen, not until Y/N puts their mind at ease, they slowly put the laptop aside, standing up to carefully skip on over to Corpse’s recording room to check on him, stopping by the kitchen to grab him a snack and a bottle of water along the way.
The door to the darkened room is open a crack, as usual, suggesting they can enter without knocking - this also means he’ll probably not hear them even if they knock so the whole gesture would be pointless. Not that Y/N has a tendency to knock or anything... Waltzing in, they find that the only light in the room is the very faint and dark glow of the computer screen which is displaying a dark and dingy room from a first-person view of the protagonist of whatever game Corpse’s currently playing.
“Corpse?!“ They whisper-yell/hiss at him, trying their best to grasp his attention without startling him - they don’t need to be told that the game is of the horror genre and the last thing they need is for their boyfriend to flip backwards and fall out of his chair because they scared the shit out of him. “Hey?!“
Neither attempts prove futile so, despite their best instincts telling them differently, they walk over to him and tap him on the shoulder. The reaction, while within the realm of expectancy, is a lot more startled than they expected, accompanied by a scream on top of all. They’d never heard him scream in fear before, it’s quite amusing if they’re being honest.
They suppress a snicker as Corpse’s wide open eyes meet their squinting ones in the darkness, “Y/N...babe...what is it? Is everything ok?”
Y/N rolls their eyes, “No, everything isn’t ok. Your unhealthy habit of forgetting to take care of yourself, for example.” They put the snack and the bottle on the his desk, giving him their best disappointed-parent look before turning on their heel to strut their way out of the room. However, just as they are about to make their exit, they stop right at the doorframe, giving their stunned one final glance over their shoulder with a smug smirk playing across their face, “Oh and by the way, that’s what I like to call revenge.” Just like that, they leave, pushing the door back into its previous position.
And boy, is it some sweet, sweet revenge.
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shoutogepi · 3 years
Text
A Million Times Over, part 1
┌────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ──────┐
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Todoroki Shouto x American!Reader
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 11.3k holy shit this is so long guys. fuck.
[ ☀︎, ☁︎, ✘ (nsfw!) ] (series warnings)
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : some NSFW themes but no actual smut. a lot of pining and angst. some cute moments too tho!
𝐛𝐢𝐨 : You lose all memories from the past five years of your life due to an accident-induced coma, including any recollection of your beloved boyfriend and fellow pro-hero, Shouto. He’s devastated that you don’t remember him, but the both of you are determined to get your memories back, no matter how long it takes. In the meantime, you attempt to rebuild your relationship with him… while also nurturing the spark that’s still very much lit between you two.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : Originally I intended for this to just be a long fic… but even for my standards, this would be wayyy too long to be just in one post. I decided to split the fic into three instead, so this will be the first part of my very first multi-chap series, A Million Times Over, for my beloved Sho <3
𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : big thank you to my sweet friend @todoscript​ for beta-reading this for me and hyping me up!! love you, can’t wait to read what you have in the works soon <3
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“.../n”
“.. y/n…”
🅃he buzzing noise in your ears sharpened. White light snuck between your eyelids and you groaned, fingers reaching toward your temple. Confusion burst forth as you recognized foreign, plastic tubing connected to your skin, your eyes opening wider as you began to register your surroundings.
You were in a hospital room. To be more exact, you were in the bed in the middle of the hospital room— meaning, you were the patient. The realization shocked you, and you jolted upright abruptly, suddenly all too aware of the tubes stuck up your nose. At your sudden movement, large, warm hands landed on your arms and rubbed at your skin gently, making your attention turn to the person sitting at your bedside.
“Y/n? Hey, you’re okay, love, it's alright. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” His voice was smooth and deep, an anchor for you to grab onto in the midst of your confusion.
You were gawking, staring straight at him— you couldn't help it. Your jaw was probably hanging open, gaping like a fish at the man before you. What were you in the hospital for exactly— had you gone insane and dreamed this situation up?
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“Sh-Shouto Todoroki,” you mumbled, gaze connected with his tired but bright, heterochromatic orbs. His brow furrowed and his head tilted slightly at your courteous acknowledgement, but he brushed it aside and smiled at you instead.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you took in his form beside you. He was tall— you could tell even though he was seated— and he was more handsome than you’d ever imagined, somewhere in his mid-to-late twenties judging by the sharp, masculine features of his face.
“Y/n…,” he breathed out, a large, calloused hand coming up to cup your jaw. Then he pulled you into a hug, his strong, muscular arms wrapping around your torso and cradling the back of your head to press you into his chest. He smelled of clean laundry and winter, a crisp, fresh scent that made an unknown comfort blossom in your chest.
Slowly you placed an arm around his neck, your other hand laying limp on the sheets as it was still connected to the IV. You rubbed his back slightly, still dazed by your apparent situation. Looking outside the open window in the corner of the room, you realized it was daytime; yellow sunlight beaming into the room and pouring onto the tiled floor. There were vases of flowers all around the room, as well as stuffed animals, cards, and balloons that all wished for your health and speedy recovery.
“I’m so glad you’re awake,” Shouto whispered into your shoulder, still holding you tight in his embrace. His voice was still low, but this time it shook with profound emotion. “I missed you… so much.”
Your body felt relaxed in his arms, even though your brain was whirring a thousand miles a minute. You had no clue how you’d ended up in the hospital, who sent you all these gifts, where you even were geographically, and most importantly, why Shouto Todoroki was holding onto you like you meant the world to him. You patted his back stiffly and he let go of you just enough to move his face in front of yours. His eyes held such love and relief, the emotions as clear as day that butterflies ruptured from your stomach. As if his expression wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, he leaned forward and captured your lips, pressing his mouth to yours in a firm but sweet kiss.
It only lasted for a minute, but it was enough to have your heart rate monitor start beeping rapidly, noisily chiming at the other side of your bed. His face was so perfect and smooth up close— you couldn’t close your eyes as you took in his astonishing beauty. Sure, you’d imagined he would be perfect… but in person, here before you, he was indescribable. The man of your dreams. And a good kisser, too.
A nurse rushed into the room, seemingly out of breath. When she caught sight of the two of you, your lips locked, and Shouto holding you so tenderly, she let out an awkward cough and pawed at her scrubs, averting her eyes as she approached your bedside. Shouto pulled away, only to plant a soft kiss on the very tip of your nose before leaning back into his seat. He had a wide smile on his lips, content-crinkled eyes settled on you as his hand enveloped yours.
“So you’re awake!” the nurse stated excitedly, busying around with the beeping machine, managing to shut the blasted thing off. “How are you feeling? Any pain, discomfort?”
You glanced at Shouto, who smiled at you warmly and squeezed your hand. If that heart rate machine was still on, surely it would be going haywire again. “Uhh, I think I’m okay… just kinda groggy,” you replied truthfully, your voice coming out hoarse. You cleared your throat and she handed you a small cup of water, which you took gratefully. You continued on after taking a few sips, the liquid cooling your irritated throat. “No pain, but I’m a little… confused, to be honest.”
“I’m sure you are, hon,” the nurse said, giving you a smile full of understanding. It made you feel a little less on edge, and you gave her a half-hearted smile back. “You were in a bad accident almost a month ago. You suffered some head trauma, and you’ve been in a coma ever since. You also had two bruised ribs, and some minor surface wounds. The cuts are all gone now, and your ribs should be almost all healed by now as well, but if you have any discomfort on your left side here,” she gestured to your ribs and continued, “just let me know. I’ll page your doctor and we’ll do a quick check-up on you in just a minute!”
You nodded slowly, the gears turning in your head. You were in an accident, and then a coma for a whole month? It all seemed so crazy to you— you can’t remember a single thing leading up to your supposed accident. Head trauma… you weren’t usually the type to get hurt, and you’d never been in a coma before. “Umm… what kind of accident was it?” you asked, looking between Shouto and the nurse, not really directing the question to either of them specifically.
“You were flung into a cement pillar during a fight, love. The blow was mostly on your side, hence your bruised ribs… but your head smacked into the pillar secondarily,” Shouto replied, his smile disappearing as an unfamiliar bitterness washed over his handsome face. “We were battling together and you were knocked unconscious instantly… you’ve been asleep ever since.”
“A fight..?” you frowned, tilting your head in confusion. “We were fighting, and you threw me against a… cement pillar?”
Shouto looked horrified at your misunderstanding, adamantly shaking his head and making his soft, two-toned hair shine in the sunlight. “No, I would never hurt you— the villain did, baby. I incapacitated them right after,” he paused, eyes casting downwards and his free hand forming into a fist at the memory, “but the damage had already been done...”
That sounded right… your job was herowork, you could at least recall that. But you didn’t think you’d ever fought beside a hero as great and renowned as Japan’s famed dual-tempered Shouto. Sure, you’d been doing your best to climb the American hero leaderboard, but you weren’t by any means at the top yet. “Umm… can you tell me.. why we were fighting a villain together, exactly?”
Shouto looked directly at you, his brow furrowing before he looked to the nurse on the other side of your bed. They shared a look, and you shuffled uncomfortably in the cotton sheets pulled up to your waist, unease sitting like a rock in your stomach.
“Y/N, can you tell me what you remember before the accident?” Shouto asked slowly, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. There was a sliver of something else in his voice now, a hint of urgency in his request.
You looked between him and the nurse hesitantly, racking your brain for anything you could think of. “Uhh… I don’t… I don’t remember, I— I’m sorry.”
“That’s alright hon, don’t worry. It’s common to have some confusion after just waking up from a coma. We can try an easier question. Let’s see… do you know your birthday?”
You responded instantly, and there was the tiniest amount of relief on Shouto’s face at your correct response.
“Your mother’s maiden name?”
You got that one right too, Shouto’s thumb rubbing over your knuckles soothingly in silent praise.
“How about your phone number?”
You took a second to think of it, but you answered that one too. The nurse looked over at Shouto to see his reaction, and so did you. But Shouto was frowning at you, making dread drip into your veins. “That’s your US number, love… what’s your Japanese number?”
You looked at him incredulously. “My Japanese number? Why would I need a Japanese number?” you inquired, thinking this must have been some kind of trick question.
The nurse and Shouto shared a more serious look, and Shouto swallowed as he looked away from you, turning toward the window instead. You squeezed at his hand but he didn’t respond, so you turned to the nurse instead, confused now more than ever.
“I don’t understand…,” you mumbled, hoping for some clarification from her. She smiled at you, but this time it did not reach her eyes.
“You’re in Japan, hon. You’re speaking Japanese right now… and you’re also one of the top heroes in Japan, just like your boyfriend here.”
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The next few days passed by in a blur. The hospital staff was all very kind and hospitable, but it still felt like you had woken up in the middle of someone else’s life. Even though your body was yours, and you looked just the same, you couldn’t help the unease that lingered from your imposter syndrome.
You had gone through so many tests and check-ups that they all blended together at this point. You had been poked, prodded, and quizzed the entire time since you’d woken up from your coma. There were so many different tests regarding your memory that your brain felt like melted jelly by now, and your frustration was at an all-time high.
Shouto had gotten up and left the room shortly after the nurse informed you of your situation. Your heart felt heavy for him— he seemed so excited, so relieved that you were finally awake— and this was the devastating reality that he was left to face. After patiently waiting at your bedside for weeks, this was the bitter pill he had to swallow when you had finally come-to… you imagined that he was not eager to confront such a terrible twist of fate. Yet he had come back into your room half an hour later, eyes suspiciously puffy and pink, and his nose a little stuffy, but nonetheless, he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles, squeezing even tighter than before. Even though you barely knew him, his presence made you feel safe, and you were glad to have him by your side.
Between your numerous mental tests and check-ins, the conversation between the two of you was surprisingly easy. He was patient with you, and kind. Apparently, you’d first met him in America at a hero convention about five years ago, and you started dating after a year and a half of being friends. Your memory had been completely wiped of the past five years, leaving your Japanese friends, coworkers, and dedicated boyfriend all in the dark. According to Shouto, you had befriended many of the top heroes in Japan, seeing as they were also your colleagues. It turned out that the numerous flower arrangements scattered about your room were from these heroes, as well as fans… though a good amount were from the heterochromatic man himself.
Shouto took care of you during your days at the hospital. He talked to the doctor after your check-ins, pulling them aside and conversing in hushed voices in the hallway just outside your door. He called your family for you and flew them out, only adding to the chaos in your hospital room. He told all of your Japanese friends and acquaintances to stay away for now, knowing that meeting them would probably just overwhelm and guilt you. And each day he would bring you a treat that you would inevitably love, proving to you that he really did know you, and that he knew your preferences and even your favorite boba order. He probably would have stayed by your bedside even through each night, but you insisted he go home and sleep in a proper bed. You already felt bad enough that he was taking a hiatus from hero work until you recovered… you didn’t need to add his future back issues to your already guilty conscience.
You found yourself enjoying your time with him. You knew who he was— you had certainly heard of him during your previous hero work that you actually remembered. You kept it to yourself that you had harbored an embarrassingly large crush on him, though. You figured he probably knew that, seeing as he was your boyfriend of three and a half years… no need to bring it up! But now that your memory had reverted back to your mental state five years ago… you inevitably had feelings for the pro hero, and you weren’t sure if he either couldn’t tell how he affected you, or if he was just being polite. Whatever the case, there was still a spark between the two of you. Even though all the progress of your relationship had been erased on your side, each day your feelings only grew for the selfless, charming, and witty half-and-half man. So much so, that you would now reach out for his hand when he would enter your room each morning, and he would smile at you and slip his fingers between yours, no matter how much it hurt to restrain himself from showing you more affection.
After about a week, you were cleared to go home. Your nurse, who you had come to know as Akari, told you that the doctor had originally wanted to keep you for longer… but that Shouto was such a doting beau that they had given you the express go-ahead, knowing you would be in the highest of care.
Your memory was still not restored, though you had started to remember odd things here and there. Like how to use your phone— it was the newest model and far from the technology you were familiar with five years ago, but you opened the device and navigated it expertly on your first go. The doctor said that that was a good sign, though it could just be muscle memory... but Shouto still gave you a small smile of encouragement. Next was when you had asked Shouto to bring you your favorite moisturizer, a Japanese brand, and you just mentioned it so casually in conversation that you would have blown right over it had Shouto not pointed it out to you. You were recalling little, mundane things here and there, but never anything big— no people, no places. No distinct memories.
Akari assured you many times that as long as you kept working at it, your memories would return. She always said it when you were frustrated— she could tell your moods and she could see how hard you were trying. But she also said it when you were doing fine, and that was when you knew she was saying it more to Shouto than anything. You were glad to have her there, because even though Shouto was there for you physically, he kept most of his emotions sealed off from you… and it was hard for you to read him. Akari was an excellent nurse, and you felt blessed to have been taken care of by her. But a tiny, minuscule part of you was jealous that she could tell how he was feeling, while you were left in the dark.
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You sighed as the car door clicked shut, feeling apprehensive. The vehicle that Shouto had driven to the hospital today is sleek, shiny, and foreign. You had no clue what model it was, but you knew it must have been expensive— the interior was framed with a polished wood that complimented the peanut-butter color of the leather seats and steering wheel. Shouto slipped into the drivers’ side next to you, offering you a small smile as he clicked his seatbelt into place.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, pausing before he turned the ignition. The car purred to life, a welcome screen popping up in the middle of the console.
You thought it over for a moment before answering, watching as he slid the parking ticket out from under the overhead visor. “A little… I think excited is a better word for it, though.”
Shouto’s smile broadened just a tad, his hand reaching over the center console and squeezing yours briefly. “Me too,” he murmured, eyes locked with yours for just a moment too long before his arm propped back against the corner of your seat, and he reversed out of the parking spot. You couldn’t help but admire his chiseled jawline as he did so, eyes flitting away quickly when he caught your lingering gaze.
The drive from the hospital to your home wasn’t long, and you were thankful that was the case— you’d have definitely felt even guiltier if he’d been driving for a long time all these days to come and see you. The city distracted you along the way, bustling and bright as ever, and your eyes were wide with wonder as you took in the colorful displays littering the streets and storefronts. Everything— everyone just seemed so alive; it was impossible to keep the smile from your face.
At one red light in particular, you saw a cat cafe, zoning in on a particularly pudgy cat snoozing at the top of the cat tree in the window. You giggled and pointed it out to Shouto, glancing over at him to see if he was looking, and the softest smile was on his lips as his eyes gazed deeply into yours. You held his stare for a moment and then looked away again, flustered and your cheeks feeling warm as you cleared your throat.
It was then that you noticed his hand lying atop the center of the console, tempting you to reach out and lace your fingers with his, like you had done so many times at the hospital. But it felt different without the safety of the white walls and medical equipment you had grown to know, somehow scarier— like he might reject you for whatever reason. You chose to keep your hands to yourself for now.
“It seems like you’re curious about the city,” he said as silence settled between the pair of you, the only noise in the cabin of the vehicle being the low melody from the radio.
You shrugged and hummed in agreement, eyes now glued to the other side of the window as countless people and businesses whizz by. “I like to know the city I’m protecting,” you answered, leaning back against the headrest. “It makes me feel more connected to the people that live here… the people we’re helping when we do our jobs. Y’know?”
Shouto nodded, humming his own agreement. “Yeah… I know what you mean,” he replied. After a short pause, he turned to you, waiting for another red light to turn green. “Maybe we can come out in disguise sometime… if that would interest you. I can show you around, we can have a little adventure.”
You visibly perked up at his suggestion, your grin making his heart flutter suddenly in his chest. “Yes! I would love that!” you beamed at him and he smiled back at you, the faintest hint of a blush dusting his cheeks.
You bit your lip as he turned back toward the road, the car shifting forward as he pressed the gas at the green signal. He was trying… so you had to, too.
“But only if we go together, okay?” You reached over and took his hand before you could chicken out. His fingers fit perfectly in between yours, and your cheeks felt hot again as you gazed intently at your intertwined hands.
Shouto let out a little breath of surprise at your action, but his fingers curled tightly around yours in under a second. “Of course… love.”
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Shouto had sent your family home, despite their protests. The doctor’s orders were for you to resume life as you normally would— apparently, that would be the quickest way for you to regain your memories. The verdict was much to your parents’ dismay, but they understood that it was the fastest means for you to return to, well, you. So they left Shouto to take care of you, and he insisted that once your memories came back, he would fly them back out to see you again, or the two of you would come to them.
Though technically he was a stranger to you, he was the closest thing to home in the strange storm of your memory loss. He had been there for you every step of the way, every day. He tended to your every need, and he even anticipated your needs before you were aware of them. That didn’t change once you arrived at your shared apartment.
If you could even call it that.
“Holy shit,” you mumbled when Shouto unlocked the door for you, gesturing for you to enter first. Your jaw was on the herringbone-patterned, hardwood floor as your eyes wandered around the entryway, taking in every design detail you came across. You barely managed to take off your shoes before you were peeking your head into the bathroom next to the entry hallway, inspecting the clean and gorgeously-furnished half-bath.
Shouto chuckled and closed the door behind him, making sure to turn the lock as he set his keys into a porcelain bowl beside the door. “Go explore, I think you’ll like what you see,” he said amusedly, a half-smirk on his pink lips as he eyed you. Your starstruck expression only grew as you padded into the open space of the living room.
A long, cushy sofa and chaise stood before the huge flat-screen that was nestled into an elegant built-in, shelves filled with books you knew and loved and ones you didn’t recognize, too. Game consoles lined the shelf below the plasma screen, and your toes curled into the fuzzy rug underfoot as you gaped at the room. Everything— even the curtains and the coasters on the coffee table— was exactly in your taste. You felt like you were in wonderland. Had you fallen down a rabbit hole and this was the magical, heavenly place you had landed in? Clearly this had to be a dream, right? You woke up as Todoroki Shouto’s long-time girlfriend, and apparently you lived here, with him?
Goddamn.
The kitchen, laundry room, main bath, office, bedroom, and master bath all fit your taste exactly the same. Only the second office and spare bedroom seemed a little out of place— they were more of a traditional Japanese design, but even though it was different, you did not mind. Even the runner on the staircase— who had a staircase in their apartment, by the way?!— was in a pleasing color and pattern. There was even a decently sized home gym, with various equipment and machines and a mirror running the length of the entire wall. By the end of your expedition, you were simply at a loss for words. You found Shouto sitting on one of the stools at the marble island that separated the kitchen and the living room, busy combing through some manila files.
“Umm,” you started, catching his attention.
He looked up at you, propping his chin onto his hand as his elbow rested on the counter. One brow quirked up, he grinned slyly at your outright astonishment. “Well?” he prompted, sitting up and rolling his neck, then stretching his broad shoulders. “What do you think?”
You try not to linger on the way the muscles rippled underneath his tight, crisp shirt, playing off your silence as shock. “It’s uh… perfect? I live here? I actually live here, right? You’re not pulling my leg?”
Shouto chuckled and shook his head. “I would never, love. Well, I have before, but no— I’m not right now. You live here. We live here. It’s all ours.”
You laughed giddily, unable to contain your excitement. Shouto smiled fondly at you, your grin infectious as your eyes wandered around the kitchen once more.
“Snack pantry is behind that door,” he nodded his head to the side and your eyes grew even starrier. He couldn’t help the laugh that trickled out of him at your instant footsteps— you were still you, after all. He knew all the ways to your heart very well, and one of them was most definitely through food.
“Woah.” Your mouth hung open once again at the rows of snacks and foods that greeted your gaze when you opened the door, the light flicking on automatically. Your eyes danced over the labels, recognizing many of your favorite flavors throughout the variety. “We could survive a whole year off of this stuff, Shouto.”
You stiffened when an arm wrapped around your middle, his front pressing up against your back as his chin fell onto your shoulder. That same comforting scent encircled you, but this time it was mixed with a subtle, woodsy aroma that made your mouth water.
Shouto breathed softly into your hair, the tip of his nose brushing the side of your neck. “I stocked up for your return, love.” He took another leisurely deep breath before he pulled back, his arm falling from your body and leaving you surprisingly cold without his touch. “Wanted you to have everything you could possibly desire.”
Your eyes inspected the pattern on the hardwood floor as he stepped away from you, your arm crossing over your front to grab onto your bicep nervously. Letting out a small laugh, you replied, “Yeah, I think you covered all the bases…”
He only hummed as he returned to his seat, sliding on a pair of thin metal glasses you hadn’t seen him take off before. You couldn’t help but think he looked incredibly handsome like this— a rare, domestic sight for only your eyes to enjoy. “Sorry I can’t entertain you at the moment,” he said, that analytical gaze locking onto you once more. “My agency asked me to look over these cases and I just have to finish them up— I’m technically on leave, but I still want to help out when I can. I only need another half hour or so. Feel free to help yourself to anything you like. This is your home, after all.”
You smiled and nodded, rolling back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Alright, I’ll try not to bother you.” Shouto frowned at your wording, but you carried on anyway. “I think I’ll poke around our room and see if I can find something that triggers a memory.” Your acknowledgement of your shared bedroom seemed to put him at ease, and with that, you grabbed a strawberry-flavored snack from the pantry before making your way past him, roaming over to the bedroom.
“You can go through my things if you want, too!” He called from behind you, having already made your way to the stairs. Choosing not to reply to his invitation, you hopped up the steps and quietly closed the door to your bedroom, hands landing on your hips. Inspecting the room from left to right, you decided to go through the toiletries in the master bath before anything else.
Before you could move even a foot in the direction of the en-suite, a furry creature darted out from underneath the bed skirt and dashed toward you. You gasped in delight at the gorgeous visage of the long-haired cat— she had bright blue eyes and fine white fur, her coat streaked with gray here and there. The cat meowed cutely and curled around your ankle, rubbing her head against your leg affectionately.
You immediately crouched down and lowered yourself to her level, fingers eagerly diving into her soft fur and offering a good scratch behind the ears. “Hi gorgeous,” you cooed, the animal mewling back at you in response. Your fingers found her collar and you flipped over the tag, reading her name with a smile. “Nice to meet you, Yuki.” 
Heart softened at the thought of Shouto owning such a pretty creature, you gave her a good long rub before you decided to move on to your quest at hand. The creature followed closely behind, twisting in between your legs as you entered the en-suite.
The bathroom was large and luxurious, just what you would expect from a pro-hero of Shouto’s standing. It occurred to you that you too, were a hero of such regard, which must explain why you could afford all the lavish things you came across while combing through the closets and cabinetry.
You went through countless skincare products, face masks, makeup items, and bathing goods on what you presumed was your side of the double sink before you peeked into Shouto’s drawers. You fingered through his hygienic products, mumbling to yourself in surprise when you came across skincare items whose existence most men would not even be aware of. You shrugged and figured that you just must be an excellent girlfriend and teacher, assuming he used them correctly.
Eventually you found his shaving items, eyes scanning the labels until you find his aftershave. Shrugging, you took the cap off, giving a tentative sniff before you realized that must be what you smelled on him earlier, when he’d pressed up against you from behind and nuzzled into your neck. You bit your lip as you recalled how his arm felt around your waist, his nose on your throat. It had felt so intimate, and oddly… natural.
It was the most contact you’d had with him so far. While you were at the hospital, he would hold your hand. Besides that first moment when you had just woken up— when he hugged and kissed you, and the fireworks that had gone off had been then overshadowed by the horrific realization that your memory had been wiped— the half-hug just twenty minutes ago was the only time he had initiated further physical contact with you.
You frowned. It wasn’t like you’d been super affectionate toward him, either. Sure, you had reached out for his hand at the hospital, and you took it again during the car ride home… but now that it was just the two of you, alone in your home… it felt different. Maybe that was why Shouto had asked if you felt nervous when you were in the car, following your discharge from the hospital only an hour ago. Had he seen it coming— this potential pitfall in the reconstruction of your relationship? You wondered how he felt about all of this, but you were too shy to ask him so directly. Not when you barely knew him.
“Missed me so much you’re sniffing my cologne?”
You froze and glanced up at the mirror, Shouto’s reflection smirking at you from his leaned position against the doorway. Your cheeks immediately went warm and fuzzy again as you capped the glass bottle, carefully placing it back into its drawer before looking over your shoulder to him. A glance at the clock on the wall revealed it had been forty minutes; you must have gotten swept up in examining your beauty products.
He didn't have his glasses on anymore, and he had changed into a solid-colored t-shirt, the crisp button-down he’d donned earlier nowhere to be seen. Damn it… you had missed your chance to ogle at him with his shirt off. At your silence, his smirk melted into a small smile, stepping forward and joining your sitting form on the heated-tile floor. “Don’t worry, I’ve done the same to your perfume before as well,” he murmured as he reached toward the drawer on your far side, his arm brushing against your back as he searched for the glass vial. “You can try it, too. It’s the most recent addition to your collection, and I personally am very partial to its scent.”
The contact made you swallow, your gaze flicking over to his. He was looking at the various perfume bottles in the drawer, though, giving you the chance to inspect his face as his hair fell forward, soft locks of red and white splaying across his forehead. He was so breathtaking up close like this… your gaze dropped to his lips. God, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to feel those lips on yours again, to be in his arms and to be held as tenderly as you were that first day you awoke.
“Oh right,” he chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “I brought it into the spare room the other day… Must’ve forgot to put it back.” He leaned back, ending the accidental physical contact with you.
You looked at him quizzically. “The spare room? Can I ask why?”
Shouto blushed and your heart thudded in your chest. Oh crap, he was so cute with his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah… I’ve been sleeping in there since the accident. It just feels…,” he paused as he searched for the right word, eyes avoiding yours, “wrong… to be in our bed without you.”
Your own cheeks warmed at that, his confession pulling at your heartstrings. “So the perfume..?”
His cheeks darkened a few shades, the hand on his neck rubbing harder at his skin. “Ah, that’s… honestly kind of… embarrassing to explain.”
You reached out so your hand covered his, and Shouto sighed as he allowed your fingers to slide in between his. “Can I guess? Will you tell me if I’m right?” He nodded at that, deciding it was better if he didn't have to say it. “You spray my perfume onto a pillow at night and snuggle up with it?”
Shouto’s eyes widened at your immediate response, swallowing before he let out a stiff laugh and a nod. “Yeah, that’s exactly right… kind of lame, isn’t it?”
Shaking your head, you smiled gently at him. “No, I think it’s sweet. It’s just what I would do if you were away, too.”
There’s a shocked silence that filled the bathroom then, Shouto’s wide eyes fixed on you for a long, intense moment. Eventually you broke eye contact, looking to the floor with an awkward smile.
“And you don’t have to do that tonight…” you offered quietly. “If you want, I mean… you can sleep in here.”
“Is that where you’ll be sleeping?”
You looked back at him, surprised by his instant reply. “Y-Yeah, I think so…”
“Alright,” he conceded, his blank face melting into a warm smile. “Then that’s where I’ll sleep, too.”
You returned the gesture, pleased to have made him happy. “Will you be spraying me with perfume before we tuck in?” you joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“No,” Shouto answered seriously, the smile dropping from his face, “your natural scent is a thousand times better than any perfume, love. I’ve missed it lingering on our sheets.”
Cheeks warmed for what seemed like the thousandth time today, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and smiled, unsure of what to say. “Aha okay… well, I think you smell pretty good, too.”
⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆
Shouto originally wanted to order in from your favorite restaurant for dinner, but you managed to sweet talk him into allowing you to cook instead. After about a week of feeling completely worthless, it was nice to have something you could finally, actually do.
The refrigerator was just as stocked as the pantry, so after analyzing the plethora of ingredients at your disposal, you decided on a meal and set off, gathering all the things you’d need in an excited hurry. Just as you were about to start washing vegetables, Shouto slipped an apron over your head, steady hands drawing the ties together at the bottom of your spine. The garment fit you perfectly, intricate design in your favorite color. You thanked him as you glanced over your shoulder, grinning up at him.
There was a somewhat somber look in his eyes, a halfhearted smile just barely curving his lips before he nodded and moved away, retreating back to the other side of the counter where he’s staked out to watch you work. He’d offered to help— numerous times, actually— but you told him to just sit back and relax. You wanted to do something for the tired man, even if it was as small as putting together a meal.
It didn't take long for you to get into a rhythm. Chopping the vegetables and preparing the other ingredients came naturally to you, and you found yourself enjoying the process. It was something familiar, which was very much welcome.
“Do we cook a lot?” you inquired, raising your voice a bit so Shouto could hear you over the sizzling pan in front of you.
He was leaning on the countertop again— he must’ve known he looked delicious like that or something— and he glanced over at you from the open book he was reading. “Mm, when we have time. It’s not that we don’t enjoy it, but usually we’re both very busy. It’s normal for us to leave early, and return home late.”
You nodded in understanding, grinding fresh peppercorns above the skillet and giving the contents a stir.
“I like everything you cook for me, though.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, stealing a look over at him. While your cooking had improved since your teenage years, it wasn’t like you were a chef by any means. “Everything? You’re just trying to be sweet on me.”
The corner of his mouth curled up. “Maybe… is it working?”
The sound of the food crackling from a drizzle of oil filled the kitchen for a beat, and you stared at the wilting greens before you, unable to bring yourself to look at him. “Yeah, I think it’s working…”
There was another pause in conversation, this one less stifling than before. This time, Shouto broke the ice. “Even though we’re busy people, we always have a date every Friday… It’s the highlight of my week.” His voice sounded gloomier than just a moment ago, but when you chanced a look over at him, he was smiling slightly, staring at a cabinet and seemingly off in his own memories.
You wondered which memory he was going over particularly, but didn’t want to intrude his recollection, so you focused on stirring the pan instead. Tapping your phone on the counter next to you just to make sure, your eyes flitted over today’s date. 
Thursday. 
“Tomorrow’s a Friday,” you mentioned, trying to be casual, despite your heartbeat ringing in your ears. It was stupid for you to get anxious that he’d reject you— he was your boyfriend after all. But to you, this was all  uncharted territory; foreign waters.
“Tomorrow is a Friday, yeah,” he confirmed, looking down at his book again. “It’ll be a week since you woke up.”
The realization that you’d woken up exactly one week ago—the day that caused the man so much joy and then so much pain— that that day had been on a Friday, your sacred day that was devoted to being spent with each other… it made your heart throb uncomfortably in your chest. You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, shutting off the burner and transferring the food into a serving dish. Bringing it over to the counter and setting it in front of him, you untied the apron and folded it neatly, placing that on the counter too.
“Would you… want to go out with me tomorrow, then?” you proposed smally, opening the drawers before you in search of eating utensils. You frowned when all you were met with was measuring cups and spatulas. “For our Friday date ritual, I mean.”
Shouto stood and crossed the island, opening the drawer behind you and revealing all the silverware and chopsticks. You moved to grab two pairs of chopsticks and he took your wrist gently, large thumb stroking across your skin. His other hand came to brush against the small of your back, but he chose not to grab onto you. “I would love that.”
You shared a smile and a meaningful look.
“Then it’s a date.”
⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆⋅✧⋅⋆
After the dishes were all washed, you agreed to watch a movie. You had initially wanted to pour over your things again, to see if anything could help your memories come back. But Shouto had suggested the two of you relax on the couch instead, explaining that  he was not surprised that you were overworking yourself, but that it was his job to make sure you took care of yourself. He further threatened that if you wouldn’t take care of yourself, then he would have to “take care of you himself”, and that left you flustered more than anything. So you dropped whatever excuse you had prepared to argue back at him and followed him to the living room.
Walking in, you blinked in awe at the spread that Shouto had set up. Numerous candies and snacks are laid out for your convenience across the coffee table. The lights were dimmed and curtains drawn, even a few candles flickering in the shadows and scenting the room with a cool, refreshing aroma. There was a pile of blankets stacked in the center of the sofa, all the decorative pillows pushed into the corners to leave one large space for the two of you to share. It was a little… dare you say it… romantic. You looked over your shoulder at him, shooting him a suspicious glance. He had led you to believe he was “taking care of you”, but it seemed he had ulterior motives, too. Not that you were complaining.
Seating yourself next to the blanket tower, you peeled one off the top before unfolding it, letting the soft fleece tickle your ankles and lay across your lap. Shouto crossed in front of the TV, grabbing two remotes from the basket and coming to sit next to you. There was a respectful amount of space between your legs, and you couldn’t help but frown at the gap. You thought that he would sit right next to you…
It took a little while for you to settle on a movie, all the films from the past five years unknown and novel to you… even if Shouto informed you you had already seen them. He went along with your selection without resistance, opting to grab one of the biscuit snacks on the table before you.
As the movie began, you leaned back against the soft cushions of the couch, not really focusing on the actors on the screen. Your eyes were trained on the television, but your mind was elsewhere, unable to distract yourself with the story. You also noticed that Shouto was sitting stiff as a board next to you, focused on nibbling at his snack. He didn’t attempt any moves at you throughout the first thirty minutes, even after he’d finished with his confection. Slowly you allowed yourself to relax, succumbing to the film and settling into the pillowy sofa.
Shouto detected your newfound relaxation, a gentle smile tugging at his lips as he watched your eyes fix on the main character and her love interest. “I’m going to make some tea. Would you like a cup, love?”
“I’m okay, thanks…” you replied softly, not really hearing him as the love interest was in the middle of their heartfelt confession.
He took a moment alone in the kitchen to calm himself. Even though you had been very receptive to him, he couldn’t help but feel hesitant whenever he touched you. He wanted you to want him; for you to want him to touch you. But he didn’t want to force anything with you, in fear that he’d scare you off or make a bad impression. He didn’t want to be pushy. Even before the accident, his heart still pounded whenever you would smile at him. When you would grab his hand, bring him something because it reminded you of him… when you would moan into his ear at ungodly hours in the night… Now it felt like his heart was in his throat every time you spoke to him, like if he said one word wrong, you’d fly away from him and never look back. It was terrifying.
Shouto shook his head. Sighing to himself, he filled his mug with water and held the ceramic in his hands, steam rising off the surface of the liquid almost instantly as he activated his quirk. He allowed the tea leaves to steep for a moment before he fished them out, steeling his nerves and returning to his spot on the couch. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked like you’d scooted over just the tiniest bit, shortening the distance between you two as he took his seat.
Your eyes flicked over to him and caught his gaze on you, inspecting the mug in his hands before giving a curious sniff. “Chamomile?”
He nodded and offered the cup to you, which you took in both hands. “Technically, it’s called Sleepytime Mix. But yes, it has chamomile. Have some, if you want.”
“Ah,” you gave a long inhale and smiled drowsily at the familiar scent. “I don’t wanna drink all your tea. And besides, it’s a little hot for me.”
“Oh,” Shouto said, taking the cup back into his hands. He focused for a second, and then the liquid no longer emitted steam, now a pleasant, warm temperature. “Try it now. Help yourself, please.” He handed the mug back to you, the light from the television flickering across his handsome face.
You blinked at him cutely, taking the mug in your hands again. Your fingers brushed against his in the transfer, and he cleared his throat slightly, skin warmed from your touch. “Wow!” you chimed after a sip, going back for another few gulps before you handed it back to him. “It’s really good. Perfect temp, Sho, thank you.”
Shouto felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, his eyes widening at the name he hadn’t heard in weeks. It sounded so good rolling off your tongue, so right. At his flustered expression, you laughed awkwardly, fingers delving into the blanket and looking away meekly.
“Sorry… I thought that that was probably what you’re used to me calling you, but I can use something else if you like.”
“No,” he said instantly, his hand automatically reaching for yours. He pried it out of the fleecy material, folding his fingers around yours. “I like it. Please call me that, I… I’ve missed hearing it.”
“Alright,” you mumbled, fingers squeezing his for a moment. You kept his gaze for a long pause, and then you duck down, scooching flush against his side and laying your head onto his broad shoulder. It caught him off guard, but after a moment of buffering, he moved, his arm tentatively wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you against his side. The action made your cheeks perhaps as hot as the tea in his mug, but you only settled deeper into his embrace, happy to be in his arms. You fixed the blanket so it covered his long legs, too, settling over the both of you snuggly.
You two stayed like that for the rest of the movie, another forty five minutes or so. Your hand gradually moved to rest on his stomach, his long fingers stroking your spine through your shirt. It was new to you, but it was comfortable— your body recognized his touch and welcomed it, even— years of unknowingly conditioning yourself to receive his affection allowing you to accept his embrace. By the end of the film, you were dozing off, warm and relaxed now more than ever, curled up into Shouto’s side.
Shouto, however, was wide awake, his pulse rushing in his ears at your proximity. It had been a very long month without you, and now here you were, cuddled up with him just like how you used to be every night. He knew you were somewhere in between consciousness and sleep, so he let the entire movie credits roll by before he decided to move you. Still holding his mug, which had been empty for the past half hour— but he didn’t want to risk moving and causing you to pull away— he set it on the side table, carefully maneuvering his wide frame so as to not disturb you.
You whined in protest but did not stir when he curled his arms around you, picking your form up and off the couch. After making sure all the candles were blown out and the lights were turned off, he quietly carried you to your shared room, not bothering to turn on the lights. It was then that he hesitated to make the next move— you were still in your clothes from the day, and he wasn’t sure if you would want him to see your bare body if he took the liberty to rid you of them.
His tongue wandered over the bottom of his teeth as he gazed at you, strewn across the soft blankets that covered your bed. The few beams of moonlight that slithered through the bottom of the blinds fell perfectly onto your face, your lashes casting long shadows onto the duvet and giving you an ethereal glow. He could imagine how your naked skin looked underneath that cute little sweater you donned, your bra strap poking out as if to tease him even more. His eyes slammed shut as he sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth, recognizing the color, and the image of you clad in the matching panties that completed the set suddenly sprung forth in his mind.
Acquainted was an understatement as to how well he knew your body, but the problem was not as simple as physicality— the problem was mental, and it could not be vanquished by anything except time, it seemed. The beautiful brain he loved so dearly was now wiped, void of all the memories the two of you had made and cherished together. Shouto clutched his stomach as he took a seat on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, feeling sick from the forceful whirlwind of emotion that came along with the thoughts that crept up on him in the night. The knowledge that you did not remember him, not even one measly memory of him, upset him more than anything.
He had not realized how much his world had shifted now that he had you. Of course, he loved you and he made great effort to ensure that you knew the extent of his devotion to you. But it wasn’t until you had woken up like this, confused and distraught, mind reverted to just months before he had even met you, that he had come to terms with just how much you meant to him. He knew that he loved you before. But now he knew the pain of being unable to hold you, and be with you— really, even talk to you like he had grown so accustomed to.
It was eating him alive, and tearing him apart.
When you had awoken after such an excruciating, lonely month, he had been overjoyed. Finally, he could be with you again— he could touch you and kiss you, hear your sweet voice, hold your body close to his as you fell asleep, and wake up with you still in his arms, groggy and adorable… except, he couldn’t. Because while you knew who he was… you didn’t, really. You didn’t know him at all. And what hurt the most was that he could see that you were trying… but at the end of the day, he was only a stranger to you. He was not your boyfriend, not anything more, other than a hero that you idolized and had a silly crush on.
At the very least, he found comfort in the knowledge that you found him attractive. Of course, you had revealed to him, albeit once you were deep into your relationship, that you had fantasized about him and fostered a schoolgirlish crush on him when you hadn’t yet been introduced. He remembered laughing at your embarrassed confession, pinching your cheeks and then kissing you through his smile… then, taking you from behind as you bent over the bathroom counter, pressing you against the mirror as he donned his hero suit, savoring your pleading moans for him to fuck you deeper, harder.
His cock twitched in his slacks, blood beginning to travel south as his interest grew for the first time in weeks. He groaned and he grit his teeth, frustrated at himself for even daring to feel desire while you laid asleep next to him, plagued by your wiped memory but sitting there looking like that. Gorgeous and untouchable.
As if his heated gaze had summoned you from your slumber, your eyes opened and you blinked at him, squinting at his silhouette in the dark of the room. Shouto recoiled even though he hadn’t been caught doing anything too suspicious; he was a good distance away from you, but still, you had caught him staring at you like a creep in the shadows.
“Sho?” you mumbled drowsily, a hand coming up to rub at your eyes. You propped your body up on your elbows, your shift stretching flush over your chest.
Shouto nearly moaned at the sight combined with the sound of your sleepy voice uttering his name. It didn't help the situation that was stirring in his pants one bit, only adding water to an oil fire. “Hey,” he replied, clearing his throat. “You fell asleep, so I brought you to bed.. Did you want to clean up before we go to sleep?”
You sighed, rolling over as you roused yourself from sleep. “Not really…,” you chuckled, and Shouto felt his chest tighten at the premise of having to get into bed with you with his problem at hand. “But I’ll be a responsible adult,” you finished, rolling out of bed and padding over to the bathroom.
He glanced over at you in the mirror as you brushed your teeth, the cat curling around his ankle and taking his attention away from you. Giving the animal a scratch underneath her chin, he tried to focus on calming himself, closing his eyes and controlling his breathing. Even though this wasn’t at all like how it had been before, it was still better than being alone. Your presence, the sound of you tidying yourself up in the nearby vicinity, took the month-long weight of loneliness off of his chest. It still stung, it still hurt— but at the very least, you were here. You were alive, and you were here with him.
It was you calling out for him that interrupted his train of thought, and when he looked toward your voice, he found you peeking around the doorframe, your hair pushed back and your face glistening with moisture from your nightly routine. “Aren’t you going to wash up, too? There’s two sinks in here, y’know,” you stated matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t know the layout of his own home.
But Shouto only smiled at you and nodded, leaving the cat and accepting your invitation for him to join you in your bedtime ritual. The situation in his pants had since relaxed, thankfully, so he didn’t have to worry as he took his place adjacent to you at the sink counter. Squeezing toothpaste onto the bristles of his toothbrush, and watching you put on your moisturizer in his peripheral, it felt almost as if nothing had changed. For the first time in a long time, he let himself forget about the horrible curveball that life had thrown at him, instead choosing to stare at you as you picked up the cat at your feet, and placed a sweet kiss on the top of its head as you cradled it in your arms.
You padded out of the bathroom first, opting to close the door behind you. After Shouto had finished his routine, he slinked out into the bedroom quietly, surprise flickering in his gaze at the pyjamas you were now dressed in— a pair of soft sleep shorts and an old t-shirt you had stolen from him years ago. He tried not to stare as you crawled into the sheets, the cat taking her perch at the foot of the bed.
The clearing of his throat caught your attention, and he licked his lip as your eyes settled on his. “Is it okay if I sleep without a shirt?” he asked, having to keep himself from smirking as your eyes widened and a flustered expression blossomed on your face. Cute.
“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered after a second of recalibrating, your eyes still trained on his. “The doctors said we should just live out our normal routine, so… whatever we normally do, we should do.” Sliding deeper underneath the comforter, you pretended to look busy as you fiddled with your phone.
Shouto bit his lip and wondered if telling you that your nightly routine of getting naked and passionate between the sheets would do you any good, but he decided against it, not willing to push his luck. Instead, he tore his shirt over his head and pulled down his pants, turning toward the wall so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. He could still feel your gaze on his flesh— he always could, for his skin prickled and the hairs on his body stood up as your eyes roved over every inch of him in appreciation. He didn’t need to see you to know that you were staring.
After he stepped into a long pair of sleep pants, he turned and pretended not to notice your obvious shuffling in a foiled attempt to not be caught looking at him. Carefully he slipped into the sheets on his side of the bed, ensuring not to wander too close to you in order to keep a respectful distance between your bodies… even though he wanted nothing more than to launch himself at you, and wrap his body around yours until neither of you could tell where one of you stopped, and the other started.
There was a long, stuffy silence as the two of you laid there, both of you unsure as to the level of affection you should be displaying at the moment. Shouto was doubtful that you’d want him to hold you like he so desperately desired, and you were hesitant to initiate anything with him laying frozen and a good distance away from you.
“Is this… how we normally sleep?” you wondered aloud, and though you were surprised that the words actually fell from your lips, you were grateful to have broken the rising tension.
Shouto left out a breath he had been holding at that, turning so that he was facing you on his side. “No,” he answered truthfully, his fingers sliding over the cool cotton that separated your bodies, wandering toward you at a snail's pace. “Usually… we like to,” he cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was situated there, “snuggle.”
In the quiet of the room, he could hear your lips part, a soft breath falling from between them as you processed his response. Your heart was beating faster now, body crying out for his touch, his embrace. “Can we?” you asked so softly that you hadn’t thought he’d heard you, but slowly, surely, he shuffled toward you.
You inhaled as he placed a gentle hand on your waist, pulling your body to slide across the sheets and meet him in the middle of the bed. Lifting your head so he could slip his arm beneath your neck, he brought your face into his neck, arms wrapping tight around your torso. His fingers dug into your side and the hair at the crown of your neck, curling around the tendrils as if he was scared that you would slip out of his grasp at any moment. Pressed up against his bare chest, you could hear the steady, fast thumping of his heart, and the shakiness in each breath he drew in and let out.
It sounded like he was trying not to cry.
Your hand wandered up and under his neck, your elbow angling around the back of his neck so that your fingers could trace the sinews that lined his shoulder blades. Your other arm slung around his back, and although it was just a bit of a reach, you managed to find his silky locks, combing through the ends with your fingers. Daring to push the fragile boundaries that kept you two separate, you threw your leg across his hips, trapping his legs between yours and pressing your body completely flush against his.
Shouto stopped breathing, tears threatening to spill over as he held you so delicately for the first time in what seemed like forever. Similar emotions were flowing through you as well, your body singing at the feeling of being with him, in his embrace. Your heart throbbed at the thought of leaving this man alone for an entire month, with no one to comfort him and calm his worries. No one to hold him and tell him that it was going to be okay, no one to plant kisses across his tear-streaked cheeks and help him forget his pain.
It wasn’t your fault you had been in this accident, that you had forgotten your memories from the past five years. But it wasn’t his, either. The two of you were forced to suffer in different ways, separated by your condition and worlds apart. You wished so desperately that you would just remember already— if not for your sake, then for his. Anything that would make him feel better, anything to ease the ache in his heart.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out quietly, overcome with emotion as you laid in the arms of the man you had once loved. The man you’d been learning to love again. “I’m so sorry I don’t remember you. I want to, I’m trying.” A tear dripped down your face and landed on his chest, sliding down to stain the sheets.
Shouto sucked in a shaky breath at your meager apology, rough fingers running over the back of your neck. “I know you are,” he murmured, and you could feel him swallow thickly as he tried to find the right words. “It’s not your fault, love… You can’t— you can’t blame yourself.” His voice broke at the last syllable, his arms squeezing tighter as he held onto you.
You pressed your face into the junction between his shoulder and his neck, uncaring of your tears that smeared across his skin. “Neither can you,” you sniffled, body clinging to him as best you could. “Please, Shouto, promise me you won’t.”
It was then that he let the tears he had been holding back fall, racing down his cheeks to plop onto the dampening pillow. You held him as he cried, unphased by the sudden outburst of emotion from the man who had shown you so little of himself in the past week.
“I’ll try,” he mumbled into your hair once he had calmed down a bit, lungs still rattling as he tried to suppress his emotions. “For you, I’ll try.”
You leaned back from his chest, his heart seizing up at the tear tracks on your cheeks that were illuminated by the soft moon’s glow. And then, you kissed him. It was simple and sweet, just your lips pressed to his as your thumb swiped across his cheek. But it felt like you were breathing life into him, like he had been starved of oxygen until this very moment.
Both of you gasped when you pulled away, the kiss having lasted as long as you could stand without breaking for breath. Your eyes wandered from his shining ones to his lips, shocked that you had planted such a passionate kiss there just seconds ago. It had worked, though— Shouto was breathing normally and his tears had stopped, dual-colored eyes now staring at you as if you had just given him a purpose to live. You licked your lips, not missing the way his gaze flicked down to watch the action with longing, but he did not act on it.
“We’ll get through this together,” you whispered, hand resting on his sharp jawline. There was not a hint of doubt in your voice, no hesitance nor fear. It was just a fact, simple as that. You let yourself look at his handsome face for a moment longer before you ducked and nuzzled into his chest again, taking your spot as if you had never left.
Shouto exhaled, his fingers trailing down your spine as he closed his eyes, syncing his breathing to yours. The feeling of your body wrapped around his made his bones glow with a missed sense of comfort, his heart fuller than it had been for quite some time. He welcomed sleep to take him, the exhaustion of many long and insomnia-plagued nights from the past month all piling on. Pressing his lips to your forehead as softly as he could, he closed his eyes and murmured one word, wishing with every fiber of his being for you to wake up the next morning and have just one memory of him.
“Together.”
─── ・°* ゚✧:* • 。゚:*・☽・*: 。゚•*:✧ ゚*°・ ───
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...soooooooo idk how this is only part 1, shit’s 11k already 💀 ahh for those of you who made it through, thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed!! there was no smut in this chapter which is so foreign to me, but i’m hoping to improve my story creation skills as part of my 2021 author resolutions... so, let me know what you think! hopefully part 2 will come to fruition soon, but it would probably come faster if i knew people were waiting for it ;) 
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xirenex · 3 years
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Promise That You Won’t Leave
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Group: Ateez
Member: Choi San
Genre: Angst
Word count: 1362
Trigger warning: mentions of terminal disease (please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with this. I changed the first version to be less obvious but cried nevertheless)
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You opened your eyes and reached the glass of water that was prepared for you on the nightstand with an uncontrollable thirst, breathing heavily. Your eyes went towards the wide windows that covered half a wall of your hospital room. Shiber plushie was smiling to you from its place on the sofa while the usual keys were nowhere to be seen. Just when you reached towards the button that was for the purpose of calling the nurse as a wave of nausea hit you, your phone that had been put to silent mode started vibrating. Seeing the caller id, you decided that you could hold on for longer since he would panic if you were not to answer the phone.
“Hey, love.”
“Hi. Did I wake you?”
You smiled automatically after hearing his voice.
“Nope. I just woke up so... perfect timing.”
You heard a car door opening from the other end of the phone.
“I called you to tell you that I was called in by the company. You were sleeping so peacefully that I found it a waste to wake you up. I’m on my way back though.”
From his end of the call, the background filled with the sound of the car engine while the small amount of food that you had for lunch was poking your insides.
“Thank you, I rested well. Hey... uhm... I’m going to hang up. Drive safe, okay?”
“Is something the matter?”
His voice filled with worry but you thought there was no need to tell him your regular uncomfortable situation so, you just decided to ease his mind for now. He would learn it from the nurses when he arrived anyway. You wouldn’t want him to be distracted in traffic.
“I’m fine. I just have to use the restroom. Stop worrying and focus on the road.”
“Okay, baby. I’ll see yo-“
“See you later San.”
You hung up without waiting for him to finish his line and totally forgot to use a pet name before pulling up your weak body from the bed. You were barely able to reach the toilet. From the side of your eye, you saw the button on the wall with the same purpose as the one next to your bed. After pushing it, you leaned into the toilet while trying to hold your IVs in a safe position. A couple of seconds later, your appointed nurse came in to hold you through the time you threw up.
Just when you were about to lean back to take a breath, an anxious voice called your name.
“Y/N!”
San came running in and replaced the nurse. Since she was used to your boyfriend taking care of you, she left the room silently, leaving the door open in case you needed help. She would be back with a piece of bread and yoghurt since it always helped your stomach to calm down.
“Just a second, I need to brush my teeth.”
San nodded to your demand and helped you stand up. He was extremely cautious not to hurt you. After all that time you had to put up with this routine, you were nowhere close to your prior strong body condition and he was aware that tended to act rash under pressure. Although he was doing better compared to the first time you had learned of your disease, he tried his best to control himself in order to avoid hurting you.
You were held by your waist by him until you finished brushing your teeth and got back to your place in bed. Before you started on your treatment, you insisted on cutting your hair and not wait until it weakened. San and Woo both joined you by cutting off their hair with you, earning a good scolding from their manager, who by the way did the same after he learned of your sickness. Most of the time you’d have your wig on made from your own hair, you would reject the idea of being close to death. It could’ve been easier if you had the chance to simply take the surgery and -if possible- skip the medication part but the doctor found it safer to try increasing the success rate of the surgery with drugs first before taking you down to the operation room.
You cried the night you were admitted to the hospital while San was seeing the boys and your friends off. He was the one to hold you through each time you suffered, each time that play-pretend cracked and you saw the possibility your last moments in life come real in your dreams. You knew he was exhausted nearly as much as you were but never did he complained or left you alone for more than two hours.
That night, he was spooning you on your bed when a tear escaped your eye. Then, a kiss landed on your shoulder. You didn’t know that he had been awake this whole time, having the same fears that you did. The only sound in the room was the way he breathed your scent in. He couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth when he felt another drop of tear that this time fell on his arm under your head. Then, he whispered without having even a slight hesitation.
“You will get through this.”
There were dreams you two made in your two years of relationship. Dreams that now seemed far away. Having diagnosed with a deadly disease at the age of twenty-five was draining especially with your parents being absent in sharing the burden with your boyfriend who was an idol. Not to mention the comments he got when he announced that he had a girlfriend just to ask them to give you both some privacy when you recognized paparazzi on your way to the hospital. The fans were divided: they were either supporting and swooning over how thoughtful he was or hateful towards you for putting him through this. You, too, felt guilty and gave him a chance to go. However, it was never in his nature to leave his loved ones especially if they were in a hard situation.
“San, you have to promise me...”
“Shh...”
He hushed you, refusing to hear the words that was about to leave your mouth. It wasn’t that you gave up but being face to face with your end, you didn’t want to take the chance of leaving without saying what was needed to be said.
“Listen to me.”
You tried to turn around to face him but nearly blocked your IV pathway while doing so. Being used to this clumsy attitude of yours, he saved your hand at the last second and held your shoulders, both of you now sitting on the bed.
“No you listen to me.”
His voice was a decibel lower than what could be considered as shouting. This made you panic but since you were not a teenager anymore, instead of trying to come up with an answer of denial, you shut up.
“You have no right to do that talk to me, Pumpkin.”
Even if his brows were furrowed from the anger and anxiety born from you talking about “what if”s, he used your pet name.
“I know what attitude this relationship deserves if things come to that but you are alive and well now. Maybe weaker and thinner but it’s still you. Just a couple of stars less from your adorable eyes. However, you are still the woman I love. Still the woman I will love forever. With all my heart and soul.”
You gulped and stopped the tears in his eyes from falling with your thumb.
“Therefore, you don’t get to talk to me about leaving me alone. I don’t allow you to. Never will. You will do your best to fight and I will force you to marry me afterwards because oh boy, you are not escaping me from now on.”
You chuckled while tears streamed down your face and hugged him tightly.
You were confident that you would only marry him, despite your refusal to the concept of marriage, if you were allowed to see the day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hi again~ I would like to apologize for those inconvenienced by this fic. I was hesitant to publish it but came to do it somehow. For those that read through it thank you for taking your time to finish it and for those not, thank you for taking notice of the triggers and deciding what’s best for you.
P.S.: I don’t even know why I wrote something like this since this is a trigger for me too. God, why am I like this!?
See you soon~
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perhapsthanatos · 3 years
Text
10:32 pm with yuta ♡
nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)
alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn
genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.
word count: 1400~
playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.
warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.
a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3
“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”
“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”
“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”
“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”
you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?
you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?
after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.
“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”
a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.
“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”
“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“
“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”
his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”
you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”
he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”
“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”
“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.
knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.
yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.
he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.
“get in, princess.”
and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.
“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.
“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”
you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.
© perhapsthanatos (efa)
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beelsjuicytitties · 3 years
Text
You’re Wonderful
First fic oh wow! Its been a while since ive written anything other than poetry, so im a lil rusty, but im super excited to post this! Feel free to let me know what you think!
Warnings: NSFW 
Pairing: Mammon x GN!MC
Words: 2253
Tags:  Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-Neutral Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Reader-Insert, Light Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Smut, Praise Kink, Body Worship, Blow Jobs, Comfort Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Biting, Nipple Play, Kissing, Not Beta Read
Summary:  MC teases Mammon, but notices something is wrong. They then make it up to Him
Note: This is also on my AO3, which is linked in my bio!
  “Sometimes you really can be an idiot y’know,” y/n laughed gently as they closed the door to Mammons room. They both had just finished getting chewed out by Lucifer after flunking a test, and Y/N was trying to lighted the mood with a bit of humor.
  “You failed too, don’t go about actin’ like you’re better than me.” There was a distinct edge to Mammons voice as he said the words, keeping his body turned away from y/n. His shoulders were hunched in slightly and it was clear he was upset. 
  “Mammon? Hun?” y/n moved closer to Mammon, stepping so they were standing almost in front of him before gently setting a hand on his upper arm. Mammon looked to where their hand was resting with a sad, slightly dejected look. “Are you alright? I know Lucifer went pretty hard on us.” He shook his head slightly.
  “‘M used to that from him..” He sniffed slightly. “D’you really think ‘m an idiot y/n?” Mammon looked up to y/n’s face, and they gasped slightly. 
  “N-no Mammon, I-” they began.
  “‘Cause I know all my brothers do. Always callin’ me a ‘No good, greedy idiot.’” Mammon’s throat grew tight as tears threatened to spill as he reached over to grab y/n’s hand from his arm. “An’ I can take it from them, I don’t care what those fuckers think, but you..” he placed their hand against his cheek. “I care what you think.” Y/n gently stroked their thumb against his cheek.
  “Mammon I didn’t realize.. I’m so so sorry, it must be so hard for you. Can I try to make it up to you?” Mammon nodded against their hand, and y/n smiled. “Thank you Honey.” They gave him a gentle kiss and dropped their hand to his shoulder. “Let’s get this jacket off okay?” Mammon shrugged his jacket off at the words. “Shoes as well please.” He complied with a grunt, and y/n picked them up. They put both his jacket and shoes away in his closet, along with their own shoes, and pulled out a fluffy blanket they had stashed there. 
  They gently pushed Mammon to his bed, propping pillows up before motioning for him to get in. Mammon crawled into his bed with a small grunt, wiggling around a bit to get comfortable. Y/n followed him shortly, fluffing up the blanket so it covered the both of them up to their shoulders. Y/n faced Mammon, and cuddled against him, placing a gentle hand on his far cheek so they could turn him to face them. 
  “Mammon,” they started, a serious yet loving expression on their face, “You are amazing, so passionate and caring.” A light blush dusted Mammons tan cheeks as he snaked an arm around Y/n’s waist. “I see how wonderful you are in every moment of every day, the way you care for your brothers, and me.” They rubbed their thumb idly against his cheek. “You’re not an idiot, you’re incredible when it comes to equations, and yeah maybe you struggle with your grades, but that is by no means indicative of your intelligence.” 
  Y/n tilted their face forewards to rest their forehead against Mammon’s. “Hell Mammon, if it wasn’t for you I doubt I’d even be alive at this point, you’re truly my knight in shining armour.” Mammon was blushing deeply now, but he kept his eyes locked with Y/n’s. A small smile cracked across his face at the words.
 “You got that right Y/n” Mammon’s voice was still a little croaky, but there was a light note to it. Y/n slid their hand from his cheek to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The kiss was soft, and Y/n did their best to convey all the love and appreciation they had for Mammon. When they separated, the both of them continued to lay just as they were, staring into each others eyes, breathing each others air, for seconds, maybe minutes. 
  Eventually, Mammon pulled his arm from Y/n’s waist, and gently grabbed the wrist of the hand they had resting on his neck. Y/n hummed curiously, as Mammon slowly moved their hand down to his crotch, where a notable bulge had formed. “Mmm,” Y/n smiled and rubbed against Mammon’s cock through his jeans. “Want me to make this feel good as well?” A coy smile spread across their face as Mammon swallowed hard and nodded. “My pleasure~.”
  Y/n shifted, bringing their hand up to push Mammon’s shoulder down so he was laying flat on his back. They straddled his hips, gently grinding against him as the blanket fell away. Y/n leaned foreward, dotting kisses all over Mammon’s forehead, temples, nose, cheeks, before finally catching his mouth. Mammon ran his hands up along their thighs, hips, and up their back under their shirt. Y/n flicked their tongue out, and Mammon quickly responded in kind, their tongues tangling together. Reluctantly, Y/n pulled back, to the protests of Mammon, before quickly moving their mouth to his neck. As they licked, bit, and sucked at all the tender spots on his neck, they reached down and under his shirt, pushing it up and rubbing their hands all over his stomach and chest. 
  “Your muscles always feel so wonderful under my hands.” Y/n whispered, to which Mammon let out a small moan. They leaned back and tugged Mammon’s shirt up and off, flinging it to the floor, before lowering themself down to take a sensitive nipple in their mouth. Mammon moaned again, this time a bit louder, while Y/n sucked on and teased a nipple, their hands tracing over his arm and torso muscles. Once Y/n was satisfied with their work on Mammon’s chest, the began shifting lower, kissing down his torso and running their hands up and down his hips. “I think it’s about time i pay attention to this.”
  No more teasing, Mammon was whimpering at every kiss and touch as Y/n worked off his belt, undid his jeans, and slid them down along with his underwear. He kicked his bottoms off the rest of the way as Y/n wrapped a hand around the shaft of his cock. They let spit drip from their mouth onto the tip of his cock, and spread it around to the rest of it with their hand. “Oh, Mammon, you’re so wonderfully excited aren’t you.” Y/n teased before taking the head into their mouth and sucking. They kept their hand stroking at moderate pace, and swirled their tongue around the tip in their mouth. Mammon pushed a hand into their hair, he was breathing heavily and gentle moans and whimpers fell from his mouth freely. Y/n pulled his cock out of their mouth with a pop. “Fuck Mammon, you taste so good,” the were practically purring as they moved down to swipe their tongue against his balls, then dragging their tongue back up the underside of his cock before taking it back in their mouth. They began to bob their head up and down his shaft, stroking around the base with one hand and fondling his balls with the other.
  “F-fuckkk..” is all Mammon could manage as he threw his head back. Y/n then pushed their head down as far as they could, filling their mouth and throat with him. They moaned on his cock, causing Mammon to buck upwards a few time into them. Y/n kept their head there for a few more seconds, before pulling back with a slight cough. 
  “Your cock fills my mouth so well, so warm and hard for me,” they punctuated each work with a kiss or lick, “but I want more, I want you in me, I wanna ride you Mammon, God I want that so badly.” Mammon nodded rapidly and Y/n pulled themself up so they could strip themself bare. Mammon leaned over to his bedside drawer, grabbing the bottle of lube out. He gazed up at Y/n, now naked and grinding needily against him.
  “Lemme warm you up.” As much as Mammon wanted to get inside Y/n, he also wanted this to be as pleasurable as possible for the both of them. Y/n nodded in response.
  “Please- hurry,” they basically whimpered. Y/n leaned back on their hands to provide him better access, and he squirted a fair amount of lube onto his fingers. He brought his now lubed fingers down to Y/n’s entrance, and started rubbing gentle circles around it at first. He then slipped a finger in, he slowly fingered them, curling his finger to hit all the right places. Y/n moaned and panted, as he slid a second finger in. He could feel Y/n tensing around his fingers as he worked and stretched them. He worked their hole until he couldn’t hold back any longer, and pulled his fingers out. 
  “I wanna fu-fuck you Y/n.” He had already grabbed the lube, and squeezed out some to slick up his cock. 
  “Yes, oh yes please Mammon,” Y/n’s voice was full of need. “Please put it in, fill me up with your cock mmh.” Mammon lined himself up, pushing into Y/n slightly, before he grabbed their hips, and pulled them down onto him. Both Y/n and Mammon let out loud moans as they slid down him, quieting slightly as they bottomed out. “Oh fuuck Mammon, you’re so big, filling me so good,” Y/n moaned out words of praise. They leaned forwards, placed their hands on Mammon’s chest, and slowly began to move. They rolled their hips as they moved, doing their best to pleasure Mammon. At the same time, Mammon took a hand off their hip, and placed it onto one of Y/n’s hands, slightly holding it. Y/n’s mouth hung open as the bounced and rolled on Mammon’s cock, picking up a bit of speed.
  “Lemme flip ya over,” Mammon said between pants. “I wanna fuck inta ya, make ya f-feel as good as you’ve made me feel.” Y/n nodded and stopped moving long enough for Mammon to swiftly flip the two of them, so he was now leaning over them, arms resting on either side of their head. He rested his forehead against theirs, and felt Y/n wrap their legs around him. He began to thrust into them, a strong, steady pace. Y/n ran their hands through his hair and against his neck as they stared into each others eyes. Happy smiles spread across both of their faces as Mammon fucked into them, speeding up and slowing down seemingly at random. 
  “I love you so much, my wonderful Mammon.” Y/n’s words were partially lost behind moans, but Mammon fully understood them.
  “I-I love you too-” his thrusts were getting more frantic “-I love you my-” a loud groan “-my treasure..” They were both very close at this point, and Mammon tilted his head to kiss Y/n. A deep, loving kiss. Y/n squeezed around Mammon inside them. Mammon pulled away from the kiss and whimpered “I- I’m gonna-”
  “M-Me too, sso close mmnh.” Mammon bit down on Y/n’s neck as his thrusts turned short and quick, Y/n held tight onto him, trying to have as much contact with him as possible. Mammon let out a muffled groan as he came inside Y/n without slowing down his thrusts until he heard Y/n let out the most wonderful sound he’d ever heard, and felt them twitch and pulse around him. He slowed, then came to a stop, he released Y/n’s neck from his teeth, the skin surprisingly still intact, but bruises were already forming. Mammon flopped over to lay next to Y/n, his cum oozing from them slightly. Y/n turned and shakily took his hands in theirs.
  “That was amazing Mammon.” Their voice was light and breathy as they praised him more. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
  “I should be sayin’ that to you Y/n..” Mammon struggled to find the right words. “Ya really make me feel like.. Like I’m worth somethin’.” Y/n kissed Mammon’s hands, and then his nose, and a quick kiss to his lips. They both stayed there for a little while, basking in the afterglow, and in each others love.
  “Hey, Mammon,” Y/n whispered. Mammon hummed slightly in response. “As much as I would love to stay right here as we are, we should probably get cleaned up.” Mammon groaned and turned his face into the pillows.
  “I knoooooow,” Mammon said, voice severely muffled by the pillows. He pushed himself up and climbed out of the bed. He went to the bedside drawer, and pulled out a pack of wet wipes. “Here, lemme getcha cleaned up.” He pulled a wipe out of the packaging.
  “Thank you hun.” Y/n smiled at Mammon, and adjusted how they were laying to make it easier for him. He cleaned them up, cleaning up a bit that had spilled onto his sheets, and tossed the wipe into his trash can. “Now we can cuddle as long as we want~” Mammon climbed back into the bed, pulling the blanket back over them before wrapping himself around Y/n.
  “As long as we want eh? Guess you’re stuck here then.” He nuzzled his face against their neck.
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bqstqnbruin · 4 years
Text
I wanna be like you
Tumblr media
Alright y’all, I have 200 pages of reading to do by Tuesday, a paper and two discussion posts to do by tomorrow, and another three papers due by Tuesday so naturally I wrote a fic about Brock based on this photo. It’s shorter than what I’ve been posting recently (~1.6k I think?) but I still low key love this. 
I hope y’all like it!
___________________
Your very first family vacation was supposed to be relaxing, fun, and was definitely a much needed break from the reality of work and having to constantly clean up after a toddler and your husband. It was not supposed to start every morning with the same argument and whining from Brock when he knew what the outcome was going to be anyway. 
You were getting Noah dressed, your two-year-old rugrat squirming around while trying and failing to fight the fact that you were making him wear a shirt while Brock finished up in the bathroom. 
Brock comes out, towel around his waist, hair wet and shaggy as he sits down on the bed, ignoring the fact that he was now getting the clothes you laid out for him slightly wet. 
“Babe, get up,” you tell him, lifting him off the bed as Noah started jumping around the room. “Noah, don’t do that, you’ll get hurt.”
“Why?” Brock asks. Gesturing to the clothing on the bed, he groans. “Why are you making us do this?” He hated, more than anything, that you were making him match with his son while your outfit was completely different. For someone on an NHL team where the only difference between what they were wearing was the number and name on their backs, he hated matching with other people. 
“So if he gets lost, it’ll be easier to remember what he’s wearing,” you tell Brock, getting Noah down from the bed so he doesn’t jump on it and hurt himself. 
“I’m an adult, why can’t you let me wear what I want?” he whines, going over to his suitcase to pick out another outfit. 
“Do it,” you shrug, knowing he wouldn’t win, “For every single outfit in your suitcase, Noah here has a matching one.” You were so nervous about Noah wandering off while you were out for the day that you almost canceled the trip to Austin, Texas, multiple times. Your mom had told you that when you were little on family vacations, she would dress you and your brother all in the same color since it made it easier to describe you or to find you since she could look down and remember what you were wearing. Since Brock told you that you were in charge of packing, that meant you were in charge of Noah and Brock matching. “Babe, come on, he loves wearing stuff like you do. Remember the first time he went to one of your games with a jersey on and he got so excited?”
Brock looks at you, unconvinced, even though you had this same conversation yesterday. “Noah, honey, don’t you want Daddy to wear this shirt?”
“My shirt!” he yells, giggling and trying to grab it from you. 
“See? Please?” you beg, sticking out your bottom lip. “For me? For Noah?”
He rolls his eyes, a smile covering his face as he grabs the shirt from you, “Fine, but only because,” he stops, kissing you, “you and him are the most important people to me.” 
You can’t help but smile as he goes back into the bathroom to get ready, leaving you to keep Noah occupied until he is. He comes out of the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt and blue shorts, just like Noah. “Noah, look what Daddy has on!” you say, turning your son around to face his father. 
“Daddy!” he yells, running towards him with his arms up, signaling that he wanted to be picked up. 
Brock lifts him up off the group, Noah squealing in delight as Brock lifts him above his own head, bringing him down to kiss him all over his little face while Noah’s small arms wrap around his neck in a hug. 
“Aww, my boys,” you coo, loving the sight of Brock looking at his son with so much love in his eyes, while Noah looked at his dad like he was the best man in the world. “Are we ready to go?” 
Brock nods, grabbing what he needs to go explore the city, you taking what you need for Noah. “Noah, do you want Mommy to push you or do you want to walk with Daddy?” he asks. Noah buries his face in Brock’s shoulder, Brock letting out a laugh. 
The three of you leave the room, ready to go and wander around, your mind going crazy at the thought of Noah wandering off somehow. “Babe, are you ok?” Brock asks, seeing the worried look that was covering your face.
“What if he walks away from us at some point and we lose him?” you panic, rubbing Noah’s back as he starts to fall asleep in Brock’s arms.
“Do we need to put him on one of those weird child leashes?” he asks, clearly unamused at the fact that this was something you were genuinely scared about.
“No, those are creepy. Let’s put him in the stroller and go find some food?” you ask, trying to take your mind off what was probably your worst nightmare. 
“My buddy said Kerbey Lane was good, especially with Noah, here,” Brock suggests, using one arm to hold your now sleeping son and the other to reach for his phone to figure out how to get there.
“And then what about that toy museum? I’m sure he’d love that,” you tell Brock, who nods as he hands you his phone, taking your hand and leading you out. 
Noah wakes up on your walk to breakfast, squirming out of Brock’s arms and begging to be put down. “Do you want to sit in the stroller?” Brock asks him, only to get a fierce head shake ‘no’ from his son. Brock puts him down, letting him walk. Noah’s small hand can only wrap around one of Brock’s fingers as he holds on to his father’s pointer finger.
In true Brock fashion, he lets Noah believe that he’s strong enough to drag his daddy down the street by the one finger, Noah giggling as his small legs let him run as fast as they can carry him. Listening to Brock encourage his son the way he was, his laugh ringing through the street made your heart burst with love. 
You get to Kerbey Lane, ordering food and getting it in a thankfully short amount of time considering how much Noah was squirming around ready to eat, both you and Brock clearly needing coffee in an IV just to be able to keep up with the amount of energy your two-year-old seems to have. You sit there, enjoying yourself, admiring the way Brock’s smiles reached his eyes, nearly closing at the sight of Noah putting his pancake on his face, probably trying to make it into a mask. Brock takes the second pancake while Noah is looking at you, tearing pieces up to make holes for Noah’s eyes, nose, and mouth, sliding it back in front of him before he has the chance to notice.
Noah shrieks with excitement, putting the mask pancake on his face and sticking his tongue out, sending the three of you into what was probably an inappropriately loud fit of laughter considering how many other people were around you. 
“So what is at this toy museum?” Brock asks, paying your bill and gathering everything up to leave. 
“There’s a bunch of toys on display, but I’m assuming you were smart enough to know that by the name,” you tell, him strapping Noah into his stroller, his feet kicking up and down as he tries to fight his way out of the buckles. “But they also have a bunch of stuff people can play with like old arcade games and stuff.” 
“Hear that buddy?” Brock says, bending down to Noah, “Sounds like you get to play with cool toys today! Way better than what we have at home,” he tells him, looking up at you with a smirk on his face.
“Babe, whose fault is that? You paid for all those toys,” you fire back. He rolls his eyes, putting his arm around you and kissing the side of your temple as you set off for the museum. The entire walk there, Brock had his arm around you. It felt so, you don’t know, domestic? Is that even the right word? He was gone so many times during the year that you were often on your own when it came to Noah. Having him pretty much attached to your and your son was a much-welcome change to compared to the rest of the year. You loved it, even if he was annoying about wearing the same thing as Noah. 
You get to the museum, pulling Noah out of the stroller and resting him on your hip as you start to wander the building. Brock seemed to be in his element, acting more like a child than his son while looking at the vintage toys. You get to a set of action figures, Brock going crazy over how many looked like the ones his dad had described to him when he was younger. 
“Look, Noah,” Brock says, pointing to the superheroes, “You can be like them one day. Or like these guys,” he points to the G.I. Joes, “Or anything you want.”
Corny, you know, but you could help but melt at how Noah’s eyes lit up at Brock’s words. “I wanna be Daddy,” Noah says, reaching for his father who takes him in open arms. 
You swear Brock’s eyes glass over with the beginning of tears, as he kisses Noah on the forehead. “And look, you’re already dressed like Daddy. You’re almost there, bub,” you say, rubbing your son’s back. You send Brock a look that says, ‘I told you so,’ him mouthing back, ‘thank you.’
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peachcitt · 3 years
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okay, so style reference you say? I'm 👀
YES STYLE REFERENCE I SAY
this is going to be. a very long post i think with probably a lot of tangents and probably with a lot more thorough explanation than you could ever want but. here we go
because all of my theory/explanation posts end up So Long, i like to organize myself by keeping myself to a structure, and i also like to think if i put stuff in sub categories with bolded titles, people reading can skip ahead to the stuff they want if they're low on time or don't feel like slogging through everything. so here's the structure of the official Peach Style Reference Narrative
1. Early Days - how i started writing, my early inspirations, origins
2. Current Days - discussions of current style references plus examples and comparisons, discussions of original content versus fan content
3. Future Days - where i expect my writing to grow, trajectories i want, conclusory thoughts
without further ado, let's get into it!
1. Early Days
like i mentioned on the discord server, ive been writing creatively for. a very long time. i just turned 20 (like. literally today. we love to see it) and that seems very young, but i remember writing creatively when i was maybe six or seven, and before that i played with dolls a lot, which meant every day i was creating little narratives for myself. in addition to this - and this is probably why i started writing so young - i was (and am!) a very avid reader. i was that little jerk in elementary school reading chapter books and going into the older kids' section in the school library because i'd already mentally surpassed the books in the section meant for kids my age. so, basically, ive been writing for maybe 13 or 14 years at the least.
when i was young, my favorite books that i remember trying to copy in my own stories were: the magic treehouse books, harry potter, and percy jackson.
the magic treehouse
i honestly could not tell you which magic treehouse book it was, but i remember reading a specific magic treehouse book where the magic lady that left the treehouse for the kids sends the kids (jack and annie??) a note in distress, and she didn't get to finish signing her name because whoever had gotten her had interrupted her. it had been printed in the book with the ink on her name running.
i could not tell you anything else that happened in that book, but i can tell you that at some point in time soon after i read that book i started writing a story with an interrupted letter just like that. i loved the drama, the mystery of it all. i wanted to do something that was a little scary like that, a little exciting.
harry potter
harry potter isn't much of a style reference, but it was a huge impact of my childhood. truth be told i kind of hated the books when i was really young because i grew up watching the movies, and when i tried to read the books when i was in elementary school, the teenage angst that hits about book 5 simply Did Not make sense to me. i also find the language of harry potter to be super cumbersome, and sometimes it feels to me like the books are long just for the sake of being long. they have a huge cultural impact, but i feel the same way about harry potter's style as i do about dickens. cool and interesting, but, like, could you get to the point already? (and also my opinion of j.k. rowling has steadily been growing worse and worse over the years, for obvious reasons. harry potter is nostalgic for me, but i can't look at it now without thinking about it critically, which really lowers my opinion of it)
however, you could probably call my first fanfiction a harry potter fanfiction. i started it when i was maybe six or seven, and it was a rewrite of the chamber of secrets with my childhood best friend as the main character (she didn't know about it, i just had her as the main character because i thought she was cool). i of course never finished it, but harry potter probably did a huge part of planting that seed of magic in me. everything i want to write included some form of magic - although my perspective on what can be considered magic has steadily expanded over the years.
percy jackson
of all my childhood "style references" that still influence me to this day, percy jackson has got to be the biggest. for starters, it's magic. second, it's main themes are about friendship and family - things that i like all my stories now to always include. third - and most important - is the narrative voice.
in terms of narrative voice, percy has a huge personality. he's witty and snarky, but also very thoughtful and poignant. a lot of my early writing was in first person, and it's probably because of percy. also, percy jackson was the first fandom i really got into, and it was the first media that i started officially writing and posting fanfiction for. percy's voice is so clear and hooking, and i wanted to be able to write something funny and real like that.
also - chapter titles. the original pjo series is famous for its weird and hilarious chapter titles, and even though i didn't really start writing fics or stories that were long enough to need chapter titles until a while later, i loved the idea of putting in a chapter title that would make a reader laugh, or maybe even make a reader feel a little apprehensive about the events to come.
but back to percy's narrative voice. i loved that style, almost conversational, so much that i started thinking like it. when i wasn't doing anything, like walking home in middle school, i often found myself narrating my life in my head like percy would, trying to find that humor and spark in my every day surroundings. i still find myself doing that very often, but not necessarily in the classic pjo style. now i narrate everything in my head a little differently, but that practice narration in my early days really helped my shape my voice, i think.
other series i read when i was younger include: a a series of unfortunate events and the name of this book is secret. i don't remember seeing a lot of influence in my early writing from those books, but i definitely think the styles of those books hit me a little later, which i will talk about in the next section.
but, yeah. these were the big three of my childhood. i also read a lot of ya romance, children's mystery books, princess stories, and various types of fantasy, which i think you could probably tell from the genres i like to stick to now. except i don't write a ton of mystery because, as much as i admire the complicated plots, im not sure if i'd have the patience to plan all that out.
in terms of the rest of the genres, a ton of my earlier writing included classic ya romance and fantasy tropes - chosen girl, love triangles, angsty overpowered teens, etc etc. even though those kinds of stories are not necessarily the kinds of stories i want to write or read now, i think my early writing of those kinds of things was really valuable. it's kind of a dirty secret with finished or unfinished works generally considered 'cringe' - often that writer is a new writer, or they're trying something new, or they just haven't found their voice yet. all of those things are perfectly okay and normal, and a lot of people in the writing community preach that kind of thing, but i don't necessarily see people cutting new writers slack in actual practice. writing "overrused" tropes isn't cringe, it's normal, and, besides, what trope isn't overrused? people have been writing and telling stories for thousands of years - nothing is really new. what matter is that someone new is telling the story, and that's what makes it valuable.
so, yeah, a lot of my childhood writing is cringe to me now, but i wouldn't be where i am without it.
with that being said, let's actually look at where i am now
2. Current Days
im going to break this section down into two parts, sort of: original fiction and fanfiction. because i think both of these things have become really important to me, and i don't believe i personally could exist as a writer without one or the other. it's a symbiotic relationship.
we'll start with fanfiction.
my relationship with fanfiction is relatively positive in online spaces: i write what i want to see from media that i like, and i have fun doing it. i also get some comments on my fics by lovely people that detail exactly what they like - some even go so far to talk about narrative style, voice, or tone - and that's really helpful. generally, i see fanfiction not only as a fun hobby and vent space for my strong positive feelings about certain media, but also as a place for me to try new things, experiment, and earn positive feedback.
i don't often share my original fiction online (and if i do, never at the same scope as my fanfiction), so i don't get that same opportunity to see what "works" with readers. fanfiction gives me the space to see that, and i apply new knowledge ive learned to my original fiction. that's what i mean by a symbiotic relationship.
in terms of specific style references for specific fics (which is what i know you probably most want to see), i'll try my best to pick them all out and give specific examples.
those benevolent stars and i am the messenger by markus zusak
in my favorite book list, i saw you mention tbs, so i'll start there. to be honest, i had no idea what my style reference for tbs was when i first saw your tags, and i almost didn't think there was anything specific. style references are a bit sneaky like that - if you've been referencing for someone for a long time, it becomes less of an intentional reference and more of just a you think, so it gets harder to tell.
lucky for this post, i just finished doing my yearly reread of zusak's i am the messenger, and as i was reading, i noticed a few spots where i was like wait hey i remember doing that.
for starters, iatm has been my favorite book for about six or seven years now, so i would say that some aspects of my style certainly comes from zusak because of how much i love iatm but also his other books. zusak has this huge talent for writing short, punchy sentences that convey so much in just a few words, and i think i've ended up trying to do that in my own writing. often, in my writing you'll see fragmentary sentences such as "He stopped. Blinked. Looked at her." that's not from anything specific, but i know ive written something like that maybe a million times over. zusak doesn't do the same thing - often his fragments are jam-packed with imagery in a way that mine aren't - but there's a thoughtfulness in his fragments that are in mine, too. a sort of pause. a hint that there's thinking happening in the narrator or a certain character. for example, i did a quick flip through of my copy and we have:
"We stare across the table.
Just briefly.
At each other." (I am the Messenger, p.144)
so you see how my common sentence fragment of "he stopped / blinked / looked at her" tracks with a fragment like this? i like the way zusak broke up sentences to make you dwell on them a little longer, consider the importance of each section, so i started doing that wayy before i wrote tbs i think.
also, at the time i wrote tbs, i think i was in the process of, or had just finished doing my reread of iatm, and, like i said, zusak loves imagery. tbs is a very imagery-heavy fic. tbs was influenced by a lot of music - a lot of the scenes have very specific pieces of music that i wrote imagining the tone and vibe of. iatm also references a lot of outside media sources, mostly music and films.
there are a couple of scenes in tbs that i think i wrote specifically mimicking or accidentally referencing from iatm. for example, we have this scene in tbs:
"It was almost like he could feel Marinette’s eyes on his back, steady and gentle. 'But you still love her.”
'Yeah,' Adrien said quietly, 'I still love her.' His eyes moved along a streak of purple that bled into a dark blue. 'I hate her a little bit, too.'
Marinette was silent.
He turned around, giving her a smile." (Those Benevolent Stars, chapter 3)
and this scene from iatm:
"'Do you hate me, Ed?'
Still stupid with bubbles and vodka in my stomach, I answer. Very seriously.
'Yes,' I whisper. 'I do.'
We both smack the sudden silence with laughter." (I am the Messenger, p. 233)
obviously there are differences, and i don't think i did it on purpose, but the interaction is very similar. i love the gentle intimacy of that scene in iatm, that weird complication relationship between the main character and the person he loves, the hurt, the brushing it off with laughter. so i wrote a scene that incorporated those things
zusak is also really good at writing moments of quiet into his books that aren't necessarily important to the plot, but are still important. if you've ever read that ghibli meta post talking about the 'quiet' between scenes in studio ghibli scenes, meant to give both the audience and the characters space to breath, it's like that. nothing in iatm is not imporant - it all serves a purpose, even the quiet moments, and i try to do the same thing. there's moments like that in tbs i think, like:
"Marinette gave him a small smile before turning back to her ice cream. Adrien tried to eat his ice cream a little faster, licking up where it had dripped onto his hand.
They were quiet for a while longer, and Marinette finished her ice cream. She leaned back on her hands and looked up at the dark sky, littered with stars.
He could see them all in her eyes, too." (Those Benevolent Stars, chapter 3)
and in iatm, you get scenes like:
"Our feet dangle.
I watch them, and I watch the jeans on Audrey's legs.
We only sit there now.
Audrey and me." (I am the Messenger, p.120)
so i definitely think tbs is a very i-am-the-messenger/markuz zusak-inspired fic. there's a lot of zusak's quiet, and there's the pieces of zusak's style that i've picked up along the way that really shine in tbs
tomorrow and this body's not big enough for the both of us by edgar cantero
ive talked about cantero a few times recently, but, as you've probably noticed, in relation to my fic called 'tomorrow.' i wrote tomorrow pretty soon after reading this body's not big enough for the both of us, and i used tomorrow specifically to experiment with cantero's visual writing style. in all the books by cantero ive read, there's this kind of hyper-awareness of a film gaze - how a certain scene would be shot on a camera, dialogue as script writing, and other things like that mixed with prose. i thought it was fascinating, and after finishing this body, i really wanted to play around with that idea. so i wrote tomorrow keeping in mind a "film gaze." for example:
"Two figures sitting on a rooftop, silhouettes. The moon hovers over them carefully, a crescent afraid to break the silence. One of the figures takes a breath, looks up into the sky at the hesitant moon, and he sighs. He closes his mouth again." (tomorrow)
versus in cantero's work, where we get descriptions like:
"And then, like a high-heeled coup de grace, she arrived.
She paused briefly outside the door, her hourglass silhouette cast upon the glass panel with the fresh shiny vinyl letters" (This Body's Not Big Enough for the Both of Us, prologue)
the tone of the two excerpts are very different, but there's a very visual sense to both of them, like they are being described from a shot in a movie rather than a regular work in prose. in tomorrow i also work a lot with specific camera imagery - saying where the camera goes in the scene, what it focuses on - and this body doesn't do this too much, but cantero's meddling kids does at least once that i remember.
regardless, after finishing this body, i wanted to try my hand at the visual structure that cantero uses in his works, so i really leaned in to the idea.
chat noir's white french man hit list for feminist purposes and grasshopper jungle by andrew smith
this is, as of right now, the most recent fic on my ao3, and i started it the literal day i finished grasshopper jungle. i think you might be getting a theme here - i read a really good book, and then immediately after i start writing something. the easiest way to get inspired as a writer is to read.
chat noir's hit list is a fic that is very much aware of the fact that it is a story being told - you don't know by who or for what real reason until the end, but it's a self aware sort of story. it's also very snarky and sarcastic, and it expands past just the confines of its own story; it's about chat noir and his hit list, but it also talks in depth about emilie agreste, chat noir's relationship with ladybug, and his relationship with himself. this is very much the kind of thing that you would find in an andrew smith book - grasshopper jungle is a story being told to you, and it's also about more than just the original pieces of the plot. the narrator tells the story that expands past regular confines of the story he means to tell - he's telling the 'history' of his life and his town, but he also talks about his great-great grandfather, the origins of the ketchup his girlfriend's dad eats, and what's happening in other parts of the country as he and his best friend are hanging out. the line in chat's hit list of "stars exploded, the sun did not, life continued on" was very much a grasshopper jungle and andrew smith-inspired line.
at the end of adrien's narration in chat's hit list, he says:
"It should be mentioned at this point in time that this story is not over, although I’ll stop telling it here.
So that’s the story of Chat Noir, who is also Adrien Agreste, who was very much a normal boy, except for the fact that he wasn’t. It’s a sad story, but it is also a happy story, and it is highly confidential. I’m sure you understand." (Chat Noir's White French Man Hit List for Feminist Purposes)
and at the end of grasshopper jungle, as the main character is closing out his narration, we get:
What I have written here is not the history of Eden. It is the history of the end of the world. All real histories will be about everything, and they will stretch to the end of the world.
The end of the world started when Andrej Szczerba slid into the cold sea as his boy, Krys, watched and wept and drifted closer and closer to the United States of America.
Nobody knew anything about it." (Grasshopper Jungle, p.382-3)
It's not overtly similar, but the structure is the same: recognition of the end, short summary of where we started and left the story, tag phrase that was used prior in the work. when i was writing the end of adrien's narration, i didn't mean to mirror grasshopper jungle so closely, but sometimes things just happen that way - honestly, so many of the things i do in my writing aren't intentional, they're subconscious. when i make a conscious choice, it's related to plot or to a new strategy im applying to style or voice that i'm not used to, but a lot of the things i do fly under the radar in my brain unless im purposefully trying to piece them apart like i am here.
i will say the meta-story of chat's hit list was pretty directly inspired by grasshopper jungle because i love meta stories, and i like using opportunities to put them in. i just love the idea of reading a story of someone telling someone else a story, which is what the two books by andrew smith i've read have been, and i think that's just fascinating, which is why i used it here.
ive gotten a couple of comments on chat's hit list that liken the narrative style to pseudonymous bosch's the name of this book is secret and lemony snicket's a series of unfortunate events, which i thought was really interesting, because i was purposefully trying to make the voice an impression of andrew smith's voice adapted to the tone of ml, but i could definitely see their reasoning.
andrew smith, like i mentioned before, likes specifics - what exactly people were doing at certain times, where a specific bottle of ketchup came from, etc. from what i remember of the name of this book is secret and a series of unfortunate events, i remember the descriptions included in those books chock full of highly specific, snarky details that aren't truly necessary, but do a whole lot in terms of adding a certain flavor to the narration. i won't try and look up examples from unfortunate events and the name of this book, but here are a couple examples:
"See, the thing about Emilie Agreste, formerly Emilie Graham De Vanily, is that she was what could be generously called a ‘radical.’ Born in 1969, like most amazing and world-altering things, Emilie Graham De Vanily grew up in London alongside her twin sister, who is a nice enough woman and who is not really that important to this story, and she was raised with the firm and gentle hands of people who had witnessed war and cruelty and had found that they did not like at all. Emilie Graham De Vanily grew up learning about the true history of England, which is not a very nice history, truly, and she grew up knowing that people with white skin like her were historically not all that great. That, historically, was a very radical thought." (Chat Noir's White French Man Hit List for Feminist Purposes)
from chat's hit list, and this:
"In 1905, being seventeen years old made you a man. In 1969 when hungry Jack fought in Vietnam, seventeen years old was a man. My brother, Eric, who was somewhere in Afghanistan, was twenty-two.
Krzys Szczerba came across the Atlantic with his father. They planned on working and earning enough money so Krzys's mother, brother, and two sisters could come to the United States, too. People who did that were called Bread Polacks. They came here to make money." (Grasshopper Jungle, p. 68)
from grasshopper jungle. once again, obviously very different, but you can tell im playing around with that same feeling of giving a surplus of facts in my narration in the same way that andrew smith does. you can't really tell in the grasshopper jungle excerpt, but oftentimes the surplus of 'facts' serves almost a comedic effect, which is definitely something that you can feel in chat noir's hit list.
[REDACTED] and six of crows by leigh bardugo
as a reward for sticking around through this, i'll give out something fun here. the current long fic that ive been working on recently has proved to be very bardugo-inspired, particularly six of crows-inspired.
in six of crows, bardugo gives us action right off the bat and then integrates flashbacks into lulls of action so that there's never truly a dull moment. i found [REDACTED] to be a fic where i wanted to use flashbacks in a similar way, so that i would get something like:
"She doesn’t stay for the whole parade, but she stays for enough of it. Nothing unusual happens, just like always, but she still makes cursory patrols around the city, ending up at the Eiffel Tower, just like always. She sits on the railing way up at the top, and she crosses her ankles, swinging her legs back and forth and humming softly to herself as she watches the sun set.
'Little kitty on the roof, all alone without his lady,' he used to sing when he’d gotten back to their meeting point from patrolling his half of the city before her. It was just a silly little song, one that he’d clearly made up for himself."
It didn’t hurt until he’d been akumatized, and she’d seen that one version of the future - the one where he’d destroyed the whole world because of Gabriel Agreste. She’d seen him then, a lonely figure in white, humming his little song to himself. Who knows how long he’d been like that before she’d been transported to him, how long he’d been really and truly alone. (REDACTED, chapter 1)
and in comparison, we get a lot of scenes in six of crows like:
"Kaz leaned against the ship's railing. He wished he hadn't said anything about his brother. Even those few words raised the memories, clamoring for attention. What had he said to Geels at the Exchange? I'm the kind of bastard they only manufacture in the Barrel. One more lie, one more piece of the myth he'd built for himself.
After their father died, crushed beneath a plow with his insides strewn across a field like a trail of damp red blossoms, Jordie had sold the farm. Not for much." (Six of Crows, p.205-6)
bardugo uses most of the flashbacks during a time in which the main characters are on a long sea voyage, which means they have a lot of time to reflect on their pasts and what brought them to these situations - it's a smart way to fill the empty space of the sea voyage and to really dwell on how important the voyage is. in a similar way, i chose to use the flashbacks in dull or lulling moments in the events of the story, ones in which marinette lets her mind wander or sees something that makes her remember something specific.
however, here's a situation where you can see me adapt the style into something that makes more sense for me, personally: in my excerpt, the tense changes between the current events and the flashback events, while in bardugo's excerpt, the tense stays the same at a comfortable past tense. when i was writing my fic with the flashbacks, i thought the constant, sometimes abrupt, switching would get confusing, so i made sure to always have a clear line using the past and present tense that readers could consciously or unconsciously take notice of.
so there are a couple of instances within some fairly recent fics i have that have specific callbacks to specific books. there are a whole bunch more, i think, but these are the ones that ive played around with intentionally the most recently or the most often.
3. Future Days
based on my recent rapid experimentation in fics (the most recent four fics on my ao3 have been very experimental in comparison to most of my works), i really anticipate a lot of growth in my overall style. ive been having a lot of fun experimenting and throwing in things that a few years ago i would've never even thought of, so im really excited to see where that might lead me, style wise.
i think as a writer there's always room for growth and learning, and that kind of growth and learning comes from not only practicing writing, but also reading. i cannot stress enough how valuable and impactful reading is on writing. considering ive been trying to read a lot more than i have been in recent years, it makes a lot of sense that ive been making a lot of weird decisions and learning more about what i want to see in my own writing.
honestly, if you ever want to know about any of my other fics, or you want to see how this kind of thing translates to my original works, just shoot me an ask! this post is already long enough, so i think i'll go ahead and end it here, but just know you can always ask questions<3
thank you so much for asking me this question and letting me indulge, and thank you for reading!!!<3<3<3<3
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imagines-by-rose · 3 years
Text
New Recruit - FINAL
Hello, lovelies! I’ve decided to go ahead and post the last of the fic as one big finale rather than break it into small chapters. Thank you all so much for reading!
Summary: Y/n is brought into Kingsman as Lancelot after the events leading to Roxy’s death, and Eggsy is furious. As the two work together to stop a notorious jewel thief, however, attitudes change - and feelings develop.
Pairing: Eggsy Unwin x Reader
Genre: Angst w/ a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Near Death Experience, Cursing, Blood
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
An ‘out of body experience’ wasn’t exactly how y/n would’ve described it.
She was very much in her body, but it wasn’t hers. The now foreign limbs felt unimaginably long as her consciousness nestled itself fully behind her eyes; two enormous windows that cut through the darkness, showing her an unknown, yet vaguely familiar world. She looked on passively -- curiosity her only motivation, if one could even call it that.
He was crying, she noticed, his trembling hands firmly pressed against a wound that was now miles away.
It all seemed so strange to her. She felt nothing; her pain long forgotten. Why was he still trying to staunch the bleeding? Didn’t he know it wasn’t her anymore?
How odd.
Indifferent, she continued to watch him attempt to fix the empty body. Sometimes, if she focused, she could even hear his pleads echo in the fog around her.
“Please, y/n! I love you. Please don’t leave me--”
She almost pitied him. He looked so...sad, wasting his time on someone who didn’t even exist anymore.
It was only when those windows began to close that she truly remembered fear. She may not have felt any attachment to the world in view, but she dreaded the boredom that she knew would surely come with oblivion.
She let out a silent scream -- for a moment she thought she heard him scream with her -- as the waning light was finally snuffed out, leaving her in darkness.
*  *  *  *  *  *
Eggsy could only watch helplessly as her eyes closed, her body now completely limp.
He cried out in horror, his instincts letting him do little else.
“NO! No, no no no! I can’t lose you, too! Stay with me. Open your eyes, y/n, come on! Please. Please!”
Her wound continued to weep blood, mocking his attempts to slow it.
“Merlin! Where the fuck is the damn evac team?!”
“They’re going as fast as they can, Eggsy! They’re nearly there, just a few more seconds!”
“She hasn’t fucking got seconds!” he bellowed. “I need them here NOW!”
His whole body was shaking. It was all he could do to apply more pressure to her chest. He felt useless.
“Please, baby” he begged, “don’t you fucking die on me. You can’t leave me like this, love. I need you here. I need you.”
Just then the doors burst open, a rush of Kingsman medics racing toward them.
Eggsy sobbed in relief.
*  *  *  *  *  *
The first thing she saw was the clock.
She had no idea how long she’d been staring at it, her consciousness coming in waves. She could’ve sworn the minute hand sat by the three, but now it was hovering near eleven.
Where am I?
As her awareness grew, her eyes traveled around the room. Fluorescent lights were embedded in the tiled ceiling, and she noticed a track that carried a thin blue curtain. There was a window to her right -- is it nighttime? -- and a doorway to her left. Various medical instruments stood everywhere, a faint electric ring sounding every few seconds.
A hospital. So I’m alive, then.
She continued taking in her surroundings when she noticed a light pressure on the bed. She looked for the source, her eyes landing on Eggsy. He was sat in a chair, his head resting on her bedside as he slept. He held her hand so close that his soft breaths landed on her knuckles and his stubble just brushed against her fingers. He must not have shaved in a week, at least.
Still in a daze herself, y/n watched him sleep, admiring how peaceful he looked.
It occurred to her, then, why she was there in the first place. She had been shot, and Eggsy had been the one to save her. With guilt she remembered his desperate cries as he did everything he could to keep her awake. She could see now how worn his features were despite his relaxed state.
He must have been through hell.
Pain shot through her and she sucked in a choked breath, her senses fully returning. Eggsy’s sleep must not have been as deep as it appeared, as he was immediately upright and fawning over her with concern.
“Y/n? You’re awake. What can I do? How can I help?”
She tried to sit up. A pained cry left her as her ribcage screamed in protest. Eggsy’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, preventing her from moving any further.
“Woah, hey, easy now” he cooed. “Don’t try to move too much, yeah? That’s what the bed’s for, love.”
Strong arms carefully held her as if she were glass. Eggsy propped cushions behind her, hoping to make her as comfortable as possible while the bed readjusted to a more upright position.
“That better?” he asked after easing her back onto the pillows. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
Y/n nodded, her movements strained.
“T-thank…you” she managed through harsh breaths.
I feel like I haven’t spoken in days. How long have I been here?
“I’ll call the nurse. They can give you something for the pain.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “I’ll be right back, y/n.”
Y/n tried to take even breaths, focusing on moving as little as possible. It wasn’t long before Eggsy returned, followed by a woman in a white coat. Y/n didn’t miss the Kingsman insignia on her clipboard.
“I've brought the doctor, love” Eggsy said, taking her hand. “You’ll feel better in no time. Promise.”
The doctor spoke in a kind voice. “Hello, y/n. I’m Dr. O’Malley. Glad to see you’ve finally woken up, Eggsy here hasn’t left your side at all these past ten days, you know. Maybe now you can help me get him off my nurses’ backs, hm?” she laughed good naturedly.
Y/n managed a smile, but she was sure it looked more like a grimace.
Ten days? I’ve been here for ten days?
No wonder she felt so weak.
Dr. O’Malley put something in y/n’s IV drip -- has that been in my hand this whole time? -- and the pain was almost immediately overtaken by a soothing warmth.
“There. That should feel better.”
Y/n sighed in relief, her body relaxing. “Much. Thank you.”
“This medicine can cause fatigue, so don’t be alarmed if you begin to feel groggy. I’ll give you a while to adjust, and then I’ll be back to run a few quick tests to see how you’re improving. Sound good?”
Y/n nodded.
“Great. Call if you need anything, you two.”
The room was quiet when she left. Eggsy was rubbing gentle circles into y/n’s palm. His eyes were somber and he looked like he wanted to speak, but his mouth kept closing as if he couldn’t.
“Eggsy?”
He took in a shaky breath. “Y’know…you gave me a real scare, love. I don't want to think of what could've happened, if-- "
Eggsy’s voice cracked. His lips pulled into a tight line, brows furrowed.
Y/n brought her free hand to his face, prompting red-rimmed eyes to meet hers. He looked miserable.
“Oh, Eggsy…”
She pulled him into her, guiding his head to the crook of her neck and rubbing soothing circles on his back. He was careful of her injuries, even then, making sure not to put too much weight against her. She held him while he processed everything that had happened.
Y/n kissed his head. “Eggsy, you’ve been through so much. I don’t even know how to thank you.”
He sat up, y/n’s hand affectionately following to wipe his tears. He put his hand over hers. “You don’t have to thank me, love. You went through the worst of it, anyway. I’d do it all again if I had to.” He turned to kiss her palm, his lips lingering over the soft skin. His eyes closed in relief.
She’s awake. She’s okay.
He threw her a sideways glance. “That doesn’t mean you have permission to get shot again, you know,” he teased.
Y/n chuckled. “I won’t make a habit of it, I promise.” Her expression grew dark as the severity of what happened settled in. She felt her own eyes well with tears. “But I’m serious, Eggsy. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I remember everything. You were so upset.” She sniffed. “I just-- I wish I could’ve-- ”
“I was upset because I love you.”
Her eyes widened.
“…what?”
Eggsy’s gaze never faltered and he threaded his fingers with hers. “I love you, y/n.” He quirked a brow. “Didn’t you hear me in the museum? And here I thought you remembered everything.” He faked offense, pulling their entwined hands to his chest and closing his eyes, drawing a tearful laugh from y/n. “I confessed my heart to her and she doesn’t even remember. I knew she was a wicked woman!” he shook his head.
“Oh, shove it. I love you, too, cheeky. And I already told you, I’m lovely, so don’t you start that nonsense again.”
He leaned forward, grinning. “You’re wonderful, love.”
They shared a tender kiss, Eggsy’s free hand lightly caressing y/n’s cheek as he rubbed her tears away. Y/n rested her head on his shoulder when they reluctantly parted, exhaustion beginning to overtake her.
“‘M Sorry. Guess those miracle drugs are finally kicking in, huh?”
She felt his chuckle resound in his chest. “S’alright, sweetheart. You should get some rest.”
Her head tilted up towards him. “And what about you? Dr. O’Malley said you’d been here ten days. You need to take better care of yourself, Eggsy. Have you eaten? Tell me you haven’t slept in that chair every night.”
He pressed a quick kiss to her nose.
The woman’s been shot and she’s worried about me. What am I gonna do with her?
Eggsy laughed, peppering y/n’s face with kisses while he spoke. “I have eaten. Merlin made sure of that. He says hi, by the way. And you win -- I won’t tell you that I’ve slept in the chair every night,” he smirked.
Y/n sighed, exasperated. “Baby, no, that’s not fair,” y/n tutted in protest, but the grogginess in her voice did little to make her sound commanding. Eggsy helped her lie back while he readjusted the bed. She squeezed his hand with what little strength she had left. “Don’t sleep in the chair again, s’not good for you. This bed is big enough, you should come up ‘ere with me. I’ll scoot over.”
Eggsy laughed. “Don’t you worry about me. I’m messing with you, love. They have cots here so I’ll be just fine. You caught me nappin’ is all. I can rest easy now that you’ve woken up.”
Y/n closed her eyes, her voice growing faint. She sighed into Eggsy’s touch as he softly brushed his fingers through her hair. “M’kay. Promise me you’ll eat something. And tell Merlin hi.”
“I promise, sweetheart. And I will.”
Eggsy brought his lips to her forehead. His smile was the last thing y/n felt before drifting off to a restful sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: That’s it! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I really appreciate all of you who’ve read/liked/reblogged my posts! It really means a lot. I plan to keep writing and have a few imagines in mind, and who knows? Maybe I’ll start taking requests soon ;)
‘Til next time!
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