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daydreamingfics · 2 years

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»»— act one | the meeting (kmg)

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synopsis: meeting mingyu in the most unexpected way

pairing: kim mingyu x y/n

genre: idol!au, fluff

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none this chapter, just an awkward first meeting and cute moments

» an original purely fictional kim mingyu series created by daydreamingfics: only on tumblr. please do not repost anywhere. feedback, likes, and reblogs are welcome and appreciated. ♡

Rain. Of all the scenarios your overthinking brain conjured up, the chance of rain had not been one of them. In truth, you hadn't even packed closed-toe shoes, let alone an umbrella. This notion is proven by the cute summery "not suitable for rain" outfits you'd meticulously planned for the "sunny skies" that the weather report predicted would be present during your trip. Who knew that it even rained in California? An exasperated groan leaves your painted lips as you ungracefully fling your arms atop your head. It was fruitless to combat the tepid rain as you weaved between bodies of scattering patrons, all attempting to navigate through the unannounced downpour.

The excessive precipitation forced anyone caught in it, well those without an umbrella, to seek temporary shelter or to forge ahead at risk of being soaked for the remainder of their day. With no plans to ruin your perfect and somewhat still dry ensemble, your eyes scanned the surrounding vicinity in pursuit of a place to stand under until the wretched weather passed. Spotting a narrow awning, you hurried, head down, sandal-clad feet haphazardly dodging puddles along the pavement until you reached the rain-free hideout. It was small, but it would do. An instant sigh of relief escaped your body as the pelting droplets rose in vigor. Nothing like summer rain, too, drizzle on your plans. You took a step back, wanting to put more distance between you and the rainfall, but instead bumped into something. Or someone. A soft "Ow," followed by remarks you couldn't quite make out due to a language barrier, reached your ears as you scarcely avoided stepping on someone's foot. For the second time. The heck? How did you not notice someone else occupying this area? Or why didn't they speak up when you made your best Usain Bolt impression, coming at top speed in their direction? Maybe it was the rain causing low visibility. Still, the situation was less than ideal.

You pivoted around, surprised by the presence of another, much taller form occupying the makeshift shelter. Given the tight quarters, you did not think the motion through. You first noticed the lack of personal space between your bodies. The tiny area would work for one person, but two people? Not so much. Caught between a building on one side and heavy rain on the other, maneuvering was out of the question if either of you wished to remain dry, which seemed to be the overall objective. Startled by one another's presence, neither spoke for a beat or two. Your head hung, eyes trained on two sets of feet as you thought about how best to escape the awkward situation. The sound of raindrops pattering the above canopy intensified, much like your heart rate, as you realized that running away in the middle of a rainstorm would be foolish. And why should you? Surely the two of you could share the space until the rain slacked off. So, you dared to peer up at the stranger, face embarrassingly flushed due to the proximity, but rolling with it nonetheless. You weren't sure if a piece of paper could fit between your chest and theirs. That's how close you were to this unknown person.

A feeble "Sorry" escaped your parted lips moments before your world stopped as the realization of who was in front, well, pressed up against you, finally came to light. As you met his stare, he wore a smug smile, seemingly unaffected by the current situation. You immediately take a step back, risking being out in the rain again, but the dreadful moment never comes. Instead, the male swiftly reached for your arm, drawing you back into the warm confines of his chest as his frame shook with boisterous laughter due to your antics. Butterflies swarm your abdomen at his touch, meaningless in nature, but it was quickly doing your head in the longer he held on. You peered down at his hand still on your arm, then back up at his dark orbs, causing the male to notice and promptly let go of you, resting his hands along his side as he lightly cleared his throat, followed by what you assumed to be nervous laughter. For had you not suddenly turned mute, you'd be sharing in his uneasy chuckles. Instead, you stood statuesque—body on frozen, mind on hyperdrive.

"Hey, it's okay. Please, uh," a slight smile spread across your face at how the male attempted to form the proper wording in English so that you could comprehend. His eyes grew comically wide as you giggled in tandem, your bodies vibrating as one, given the absence of space. You nodded along, prompting him to continue his thought. "Um, do not get yourself wet because of me. I did not see anyone here when I ran for cover. The rain came fast, my manager went for, um, umbrella, and I waited. It looks like we both got caught up in this," The male's stare momentarily flickers above your head to the downpour, "bad weather. Still, I don't mind waiting it out here, with you, if that's alright with you," He lingers, eyes back on yours as he peeks from beneath his windswept raven locks, clearly awaiting a response. When one never came because you were too busy, discreetly pinching your arm to see if you were dreaming. Nope, you were very much awake. He resumed with an amused expression, eyebrow lifting as he studied you. It's not every day, or any day in your life for that matter, where you found yourself sheltered under the world's tiniest awning with a six-foot-two idol named Kim Mingyu. The very Kim Mingyu that you were in Los Angeles to see, having secured a ticket to Seventeen's LA tour stop. Although not the best seat in the world, you were thankful to be attending and reminded yourself that every time a video of someone in floor seats interacting with the idols appeared on your social media feed. Still, you'd never in a million years imagined that you'd be directly sharing the same air space as Kim Mingyu. Floor seats? No, this was better. And what were the odds? Maybe you couldn't be upset with the universe for this unexpected rain?

Mingyu chuckled for the umpteenth time at your dazed facade. The sound snapped you back to reality as you internally cringed at how awkward you must appear to Mingyu. Craning your neck as best you could, given the closeness, you peered up at the taller man. "I'm sorry, what?" You managed to utter, thankfully, with minimal stuttering. Do you pretend you have no idea who he is, or was it already too late for that, given your whole deer in headlights act? Would he assume that you were a super fan who concocted this little run-in on purpose? Your mind went all over as you thought of how best to flee, or at the very least, explain yourself. Mingyu, filling in the silence once more, began to speak in Korean before shaking his head and attempting again, this time in quite possibly the cutest English you'd ever heard. And you were a native English speaker. "Let me try one more time. I said Hello. My name is Mingyu; can I have your name?"

Returning his beaming smile, you nodded, "Hi Mingyu, I'm Y/N. It's nice to meet you. Sorry about this," you chuckled, glancing down at your touching bodies momentarily, which drove Mingyu to do the same as you both laughed at the situation. Before either of you could articulate another word, a rushed voice cuts through the moment. A man, whom you assume to be Mingyu's manager, shuffled over, equipped with two umbrellas. He presented one to Mingyu to take before he caught sight of you and paused. The man is noticeably shocked as he sends you an uneasy smile and slight bow, which you return, as he then addresses Mingyu in their native language. He likely asked who you were and why you were against the man's chest in a public area, no less. You contemplated again just leaving, the rain wasn't nearly as heavy as before, and if you were quick, maybe you'd reach the Starbucks up ahead, only half drenched. But before you can follow your plan, Mingyu again summons your attention.

"It's okay, Y/N, is new friend," Mingyu responded in English as he pointed in your direction while sidestepping to reach for the open umbrella. You already missed the closeness and warmth that radiated from him as you now stood awkwardly in place. You assumed this was the end—your unbelievable moment in time with the idol being over, now that his manager had arrived. Or so you thought. Mingyu peeked back at you as if to say, are you not coming? The male even motioned for you to join him beneath the black umbrella with an outstretched arm while creating a little space for you despite the umbrella’s size. Taking the cue, you proceeded to stand under the umbrella beside Mingyu. You offered him a grateful smile to indicate your appreciation. You knew that Mingyu was probably being nice, as he would have done the same for anyone. But a small part of you couldn't help but let the delusion run wild, this was Kim Mingyu, after all, and a person can dream.

You gestured toward the Starbucks you'd seen earlier as the two of you, along with Mingyu's manager, navigated through the rain. You didn't want to hold him up any longer, and despite Mingyu telling you that it was "okay" in, once again, the cutest English you'd ever heard, you felt bad that he was risking his shoulder getting soaked so that you could stay dry. Confirming that the umbrella was definitely meant for one person, though you admired the gesture and ensured that he knew. Mingyu also so eloquently expressed that he didn't want you to "ruin your very pretty clothes," a line that sent heat rushing to your cheeks and your heart to your throat. How anyone survived this man's charms daily was beyond you. Once the Starbucks entrance was in sight, you felt your spirit sink. Now, this was it. Mingyu's manager trekked a few paces away to give the two of you a little privacy and to no doubt block any potential curious onlookers from obtaining photographs.

"So," you both started at the exact same time, laughing at the mishap. "You go first," you quickly replied. Mingyu appeared nervous for the first time since your unexpected run-in, which threw you for a loop. What was suddenly on his mind? "May I? No, no. Can I Get?” He paused, a hand reaching up to scratch his neck as he peered at you beneath his lashes. "Your number. Can I get your number?" he bellowed, holding his mobile to you with anxious laughter, which you returned ten-fold. The day was indeed one for the history books. Not only had you met Mingyu, your chiseled face crafted by the god's Seventeen bias, but here he was asking for your number. Your luck was never this good.

You shook your head eagerly at his question, real smooth y/n, you thought, as you turned the phone back toward Mingyu a second later. Upon noticing that you had not entered your number, he wore a confused expression. "I can't read it. It's all in Korean," you let out. Both you and Mingyu laughed at this revelation. "Sorry, sorry. I put it in?" he contested, and just like that, Kim Mingyu had your number in his contacts. He'd likely never contact you after today, this you knew, but just knowing that Mingyu asked for your number was enough to have you smiling for the rest of your life. His manager spoke up shortly after, leaving you wondering what was said. However, this time, the conversation wasn't difficult to decipher as Mingyu returned to you with a pouty expression. He expressed how lovely it was to meet you and promised to call—even going so far as giving you his contact, which you'd refrained from asking for, thinking it was not allowed.

At his manager's insistence on them moving along, you shared your final goodbyes, sealing the surreal encounter with a comforting hug before Mingyu sent one last wave in your direction, leaving you to gasp at what happened. You'd never be over this moment, and had it not been for the scent of his cologne lingering on your skin, you'd never believe it was real. As you gradually began readjusting to the real world around you and steadying your erratic heartbeat, a voice called out to you, effectively stopping you in your tracks. Spinning around, greeted by Mingyu's burly frame inching closer until he's standing right before you. "Y/N, have you eaten?" a smiley Mingyu questioned as he held the umbrella over you both once more and sheltered you from the rain.

#kim mingyu #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x reader #seventeen fanfic #mingyu fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #svt mingyu #seventeen mingyu #seventeen #mingyu #gyu

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nny11writes · 3 years

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Wow, what a great comment to wake up to/s

Can’t believe I finally popped off on someone, but for fuck’s sake. Why do people think this is okay?

If you don’t like a fic don’t comment, just leave it. And also? Don’t drag someone else into your bullshit either, Arty had nothing to do with this so don’t drag them into it. Wtf???? Disrespectful to me and to them honestly. And, like, yeah. Launch Date is in my opinion better than Galentines. I didn’t write this fic to be the next fandom hit or best seller. I was inspired by Launch Date (I’m pretty fucking sure, if not that something else riyosoka of Arty’s lol) and wanted to fill a prompt/scene I’d seen on tumblr.

And yeah I responded and I’ll admit, I didn’t spend my usual few hours letting my anger run it’s course first. But I’m actually thinking this might be the better response lol. 30 mins and I’m done instead of it eating a half day or more.

#fandom #fandom bullshit #firepony8876 #seriously who does this shit??????#oh sorry for the language but this thing you spent time and effort on and shared for free is shit compared to 'AWESOME FIC HERE'#like????????????????????????????????????#first no duh #second fuck you and fuck off #step on a lego my dude #trip embarrassingly in front of someone you want to impress #may something in the kitchen always smell just slightly bad but you can never find it #if you wear glasses like I do I hope they smudge worse the first time you try to clean them #god damn

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bouncingkadachi · 3 years

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Blessed Rain

Summary: A Hunter’s weapon of choice says a lot about them. OR: Kyle upgrades his weaponry and gets caught red-handed in the act. Luckily (?) for him, only Tsukino seems to know exactly why he's having an emotional crisis over this.

Word count: 3,260

Note(s): set post-game

Also available on AO3!

Kyle’s had his new bow for a good couple of weeks before the feel of the limbs and the weight of the draw became comfortable enough for him to consider upgrading it. If he’s going to be injured, he reasons, he’d rather it be purely by way of monster and not because he pulls a muscle wrestling with a bow that hasn’t been properly broken in. His wallet despairs as he forks over the zenny, but this’ll hopefully let him take on some of the bigger hunts like the ones that Reverto goes on. It’ll all be worth the investment up front once he has his completely finished bow and restocked his coatings and finally drops the last of his coin on a couple new talismans.

He refuses to think about the implications of his reasoning with a literal coin, rolling it around and around his fingers as he pushes through the market throngs towards the smithy’s. Perhaps he ought to have a change of scenery—the fog-shrouded summits of Terga were said to be particularly beautiful at this time of year, and the heat in Lamure was becoming just shy of unbearable.

The final product that the blacksmith puts into his hands when he finally makes it to collect is nothing short of gorgeous. Blessed Rain is sleek where his old Rex bow was bulky, far lighter and certainly not as clunky. The upgrades on the riser gives the entire weapon a pleasant solidness in his hand, yet the delicately reinforced plating on the limbs doesn’t retract at all from its flexibility. The decorative grip protector gleams. Just looking at it makes Kyle excited to shoot.

“Bring her back if you’re finding that you need anything adjusted,” the smith tells him after Kyle’s diligently inspected every inch of the bow. “Kept the poundage the same for you, but added another inch to the draw length like you asked.”

“Thanks,” Kyle says. Eventually, he’d like to work up to the point where he can up the poundage again. Even just another five pounds would be good. He can do most of the hunts in his skill range alone now, but extra firepower would make him just that much more efficient, or that much of a better support for team hunts.

The smith laughs when Kyle sheepishly admits this. “Well, I always like to help a Hunter improve, and you know where to find me,” he says cheerily, clapping Kyle enthusiastically on the shoulder. “Come by again anytime if you need a tune up or want to test out something new.”

And with that, he waves Kyle away so that another Hunter can step up, holding a tired-looking sword and shield and looking equally exhausted. “Aye, rookie Hunter?” Kyle hears as he wanders off to find a more relaxed corner of the market in which to admire his new bow some more. “If you’ve got the materials I can repair and upgrade that for you.” The conversation peters out and melts into the general din of the marketplace as Kyle slips into the crowd, taking care to step out of the way of a Felyne carrying an absolutely massive basket groaning with produce. He watches the precarious load totter away, trying and failing to locate Tsukino in the brief respite the parted crowd affords him. They’d split earlier that morning and he hasn’t seen her since.

He still hasn’t managed to find even a whisker of Tsukino’s whereabouts by the time he settles into a decently quiet nook next to a stall selling all manner of spices. Pity, because the dappled light spilling through the colorful drapes of the marketplace catches so beautifully on the milky-white sheen of the bow, and he’d been looking forward to showing it to her. As a Hunter, Kyle will always care more about weapon practicality than aesthetics, but as a normal human being he certainly won’t turn down the opportunity to have both an aesthetically pleasing and perfectly functional weapon. He’s still grinning a little when he goes to strap the bow to his back, and it’s in the process of looking up that his gaze catches onto wide eyes staring plainly at him from across the street.

He freezes, arm suspended awkwardly halfway to sheathing. His beautiful bow glints damningly in the bright Lamure sunlight as his unexpected friend wades through the throngs of people towards him, gesturing for him to stay put with a wave of her hand that really can’t be mistaken for anything other than a greeting.

“Hey,” he says cautiously and lamely when she finally reaches him. Belatedly, he remembers to lower his arm. He is momentarily thankful that she doesn’t try to reach up for his face in the Mahanan greeting, although his goodwill evaporates when she leans in to inspect his bow, body thrumming with unexplainable anticipation.

“Oh, that’s pretty,” she says finally. Kyle can’t help himself from preening just a little, shifting his grip so that she can get a better look. After all, what was the point of spending all that money and materials if there was no one to excitedly show the end product off to? Besides, it’s been a while since they last saw each other. Last he heard, she had been traveling, keen to finally see the world on her own terms and at her own pace.

“It’s fresh off an upgrade,” he answers smugly. “Easier to handle than the Rex.”

“Slightly less intimidating though,” she chimes in, and Kyle bristles, not liking where this conversation is going. And true to form, she goes in for the kill: “Mizutsune? I recognize the plating.”

Kyle can feel the flush crawling up to his ears. Logically, he knows that there’s nothing for him to be embarrassed about. It’s a mark of good smithing that one can tell at a glance which monster a weapon was inspired by, and a Mizutsune was both powerful and extremely iconic. This bow in particular had good stats and the ability to fire rapidly, which admittedly took him some time to get used to after focusing mostly on piercing shots. The paralysis coating that works so well on this bow has also already saved his skin on more than one occasion. There is little more a career Hunter can ask for out of his weapon. It’s not like he’d been heading out to Pomore Garden at any given opportunity and holding onto an increasing multitude of Mizutsune materials just because he wanted some physical reminder of what was probably the most pivotal moment of his life, something that never failed to put a very complicated and jumbled mess of emotions deep within his chest whenever he thought back to it.

He’s starting to feel very, very hot under his collar. The sun is terrible. He resolves that his next big hunt really needs to be somewhere outside of Lamure.

His friend, however, just looks more and more baffled as he launches into an unprompted defense of his newest purchase. Every time she opens her mouth, Kyle talks a little faster. Eventually, she doesn’t even bother trying to interject, which is arguably worse, because instead she just looks progressively more and more thoughtful. Kyle wished desperately for Tsukino to peel away from whatever hidey hole she was tucked in. Then, his train of thought screeches into a rude and abrupt halt.

“What,” he croaks. “What are you doing.”

One of her brows quirks up. “I sure hope your eyes are still working because that’d be a detriment to your job,” she says plainly. “What does it look like I’m doing? I promise it’s not a trick question.”

What she’s doing is holding Kyle’s hand—the one not clutching his new bow—the one that had apparently been waving about with increasing agitation as he jabbered on and on. What Kyle doesn’t understand is why. It’s not like he just did some impressive shot to give them the edge in a battle or anything else that was cool and hand-holding worthy. He’d just been yammering about bow mechanics, and maybe embarrassingly dipping into his talisman hopes and dreams. He stares a little helplessly at his trapped hand. Her kinship stone winks up at him.

“Look,” she says patiently, when it becomes very clear that Kyle is going to need a moment before he can get his brain back online. “There’s nothing wrong with a bow made from Mizutsune parts and I am the last person who will ever turn down pretty things. What I was going to say was that this is an interesting departure from your whole—” She pauses, as though looking for a specific word. “Well, your whole image as a very grown-up and serious and intimidating Hunter or whatever it was you were trying to convey with that scowl you used to like so much. And you weren’t letting me get a single word in.”

“You’re getting plenty of words in now,” Kyle scowls, just to be contrary. “And I’ve grown since then.”

“Someone’s in a mood today.” She smiles, crinkle-eyed, up at him. Kyle very seriously debates wrenching his hand out of her hold like he did the last time this happened and then pointedly doesn’t act on the impulse.

“Why’re you in Lulucion?” he asks instead with a truly remarkable level of self-restraint. “Thought you’d never want to come back again after what happened.”

She shrugs, the greatsword on her back heaving with the movement. “Guess I’ve grown too,” she says loftily, though she sobers quickly. “I was actually visiting my grandfather. He used to go back to Mahana around this time of year… he can’t do it anymore of course but I’ve got Ratha now, so I figured I could do it instead. And then I figured I’d stop by Rutoh before going home, to see Ena and Alwin and wheedle a few more stories out of them.”

She lets go of Kyle’s hand. He tries not to miss it. “Even Ratha can’t make the trip in one go, and Lulucion was closest, so we’re stopping to rest. I dropped by the Scrivener’s Lodge earlier because I was hoping Reverto could give me a few weapon pointers as I’ve saved up just about enough for an upgrade, but they told me that he was out on an urgent mission and wouldn’t be back for a while.”

“Oh,” Kyle says, a little stung that she hadn’t come specifically to see him first, out of all the Hunters in the city. He’s slightly mollified when she grins at him, though.

“And then I met Tsukino by the cannons. She said I could find you here, so here I am.”

“I don’t know anything about greatswords,” Kyle blurts out, and immediately wants to kick himself. She blinks at him, and then bursts into laughter.

“I was just going to ask the smith,” she wheezes when she’s got herself somewhat back under control. “Can’t I see a friend just to say hi to him anymore?” Kyle stares very intently down at some of the finer detailing on his bow.

“Where is my Palico anyway?” he finally settles on, falling into a tried and true grumble. “I haven’t seen her all day.”

She waves her hand vaguely in the air. “Navirou said something about getting donuts. I wasn’t really listening.”

But there was a donut stand right here in the marketplace, Kyle wanted to cry out. He should have seen Tsukino by now if they’d really been going to buy snacks! And how was it possible that he had missed Navirou in his entirety, between the Felyne’s penchant for wearing ridiculous little outfits and his inability to shut up?

“Why? You have a hunt you need to run off to?”

“Yes,” Kyle says hotly. It’s a lie. He’d accepted a subquest that wouldn’t depart until later that evening for the sole purpose of testing out his new weapon in a relatively stress-free environment. Before that, he’d just planned on hitting up the shooting range in the training arena to break in the new string. His schedule was very, very free. Tsukino was perfectly aware of that.

His eyes widened. Tsukino had been with him on every excursion into the Gardens. She went where he did (usually), and it’s not like Kyle would ever begrudge her a visit home. But she’d been with him every step of every single Mizutsune job he’d ever taken—had watched him craft traps when he needed to capture and had kept watch for opportunists hoping to sneak up as he’d carved. She’d been the one who’d recommended the spinner for all the excess purplefur he was ending up with. At first, he’d simply thought that she’d wanted the thread to mend some of her own items, or to send back home to her brethren, but instead she’d tucked each skein of vibrant, silk-soft thread into the bottom of his pouch with gentle paws, cryptically talking about how strong a material it was, and how nice it looked when woven. Kyle has never touched a loom in his life, but now he’s looking at someone who he definitely knows has.

His stomach drops. Hadn’t Tsukino looked particularly smug ever since he’d lingered on the blueprints for Blessed Rain after getting a look at its stats and required materials?

“She got me,” he groans. His friend just looks at him bemusedly, though perhaps with a touch of wariness at his ferocious frown. Hastily, he tacks on: “It’s nothing. I, uh—I just remembered that I needed to tell Tsukino something. Important. Later, when I find her again.”

“Alright,” she says, though she doesn’t quite look like she believes him. “A quest’s a quest, though, so I won’t keep you here. The bow really is pretty though. I know I just said it doesn’t match your image and all but I really don’t think you can go wrong with something you like. You’ve got the skills for it, anyway.”

“Thanks,” he croaks, feeling a little overwhelmed. He manages two whole steps out of the nook before he pauses, worrying at his lower lip. “Actually,” he says sharply, spinning around on his heel and nearly causing his friend to startle right into a spice display. “How long are you staying for?”

“However long it’ll take to upgrade my sword, I guess,” she says after she collects herself, the words lilting into a question. “Three days or so, I guess?” She skirts nervously away from the glaring vendor, careful not to overbalance on her greatsword.

“Cool,” Kyle says with a nod, steeling himself. “Great, even. Look, how about this. Your last visit to Lulucion was terrible—” an understatement, “—so when I get back from my hunt I’ll show you some of the better sights Lulucion has to offer. There’s a hole in the wall that I think you’ll like. Dad used to take me after hunts—they grill really nice queen shrimp. And the parapets—you can climb them, and they’ve got all these little carvings in the stone that you can search for like a scavenger hunt.” He’s keenly aware that he’s rambling again, but she looks interested, so he barrels on. “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow just as soon as I can get a nap in. We can stay in the city or take Ratha out to the Barrens, down by the water. Just make a day of it.” He’s pretty certain that he looks at her with something akin to hope as she considers. It feels like a lifetime before she finally comes to a decision.

“I want to take Ratha out in the evening,” she says finally. “I don’t want him to be cooped up too long here ever again.”

“Yeah,” Kyle breathes out, the word rushing out of him in a flood of relief. “Yeah, I can work around that.” She beams at him.

“I’ll look forward to it,” she says, sincere and looking more than a little surprised despite herself at the prospect of looking forward to doing anything in Lulucion. “I’m staying at the inn closest to the stables. Pretty sure I’m the only Rider there currently so they’ll know who I am.” Kyle nods, and lets himself get his hand squeezed again, though not without her hands first hovering in an instinctual bid for his cheeks before she remembers herself.

“Good luck on your hunt. If I see Tsukino I’ll let her know you’re looking for her.”

“She’ll show up in due time,” he mutters darkly. “I’ll let you know if Reverto gets back early or if he’s just been loafing around this entire time. For your next upgrade or whatever.” She laughs, bright, and then slips off into the crowd to wrestle her way into the smithy’s queue. Kyle is left staring in her wake before his gaze is drawn back down to his bow.

“This is all your fault,” he tells it. Predictably, it doesn’t answer. Also predictably, Tsukino takes that exact moment to drop down from seemingly nowhere.

“I didn’t know we had another job lined up,” the Felyne says delicately, carefully brushing crumbs off of her coat. Kyle groans, sheathing his weapon.

“Don’t tease me,” he huffs. “I’m going to the shooting range. Are you coming?”

“Hmm,” says Tsukino. “I suppose I can spare the time.”

“Of course you can spare the time!” Kyle hisses, indignant. “You just spent the day eating donuts and eavesdropping!” He pointedly doesn’t look towards the smithy, where his friend was patiently browsing the display while another Hunter was getting their hammer looked at.

“One must always be prepared with the latest intel,” Tsukino says mildly. “I’m glad the upgrade went well.”

“It’s got good stats,” Kyle protests weakly in what is quickly becoming a tired argument. “The rapid shots have been going very well. And I had a surplus of Mizutsune parts.”

“Yes,” his hunting partner agrees readily enough. “Have you thought of what you’re going to do with the thread?”

“This conversation is finished,” Kyle says abruptly, making a very determined push towards the market’s exit. “Either come or don’t, so long as we meet at the gate for tonight’s hunt.”

Tsukino looks at him with exasperated fondness, which is frankly a little insulting, but readily falls into step next to him. Kyle wonders how many rounds he’s going to have to shoot in order to clear his head again and rid it of thoughts of Hazepetal Garden or Mizutsune or high-grade thread that he’ll never use himself. He’ll examine them again someday—because he’s not a coward—but that day is most certainly not today.

He does his rounds in the training arena and marvels at the way the string slides off his fingers with a satisfying twang, even though it’ll still be a good few days before it’s fully broken in to his liking. Tsukino’s saved him a donut, the cakey sweet sticky with honey and practically melting in his mouth. He’s got some free time even after stocking up for the evening hunt, so he takes a few minutes to browse the quest board, taking careful note of the jobs that were situated near the Harzgai Rocky Hill, or the ones from further afield in Alcala that’ll take him closer to Rutoh. And when he leaves the city, he pointedly doesn’t look up at the familiar shape circling in the dusky sky, even as he knows that they’ll surely see the last rays of the setting sun winking off of the plates of his bow like a beacon.

#was anyone going to tell me that HR Kyle gets a MIZU BOW #You were just going to withhold this vital piece of information from me?#anyway here's 3k words about the significance of Mizutsune to one (1) boy that I love #I wrote this specifically with my idiot in mind #but asides from the gender and a few other lines I guess you can generalize to any other Rider #monster hunter kyle #monster hunter stories 2 #Annie writes

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maria-scribbles · 3 years

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shadow skating

y/n kicks off her holiday season in a way she never expected: teaching the king of hawkins high to skate in an endearing attempt to impress a girl. the good news? steve's a surprisingly good student, despite his infamous reputation and terrible balance. the bad news? y/n finds herself falling for him and his stupid hair, even when she knows he'll never be hers. after all, she couldn't possibly be the girl he wants, right?

fandom: stranger things

ship: steve harrington x ice skater!reader

word count: 3.6k+

featuring: swearing, holiday fluff, general cheesiness, steve being a clumsy himbo, gratuitous use of figure skating jargon

a/n: holiday challenge day 1: ice skating. this is my first time publishing anything i’ve written for this fandom so apologies in advance if it’s terrible. as always, unbetaed so all mistakes are my b.

come join my holiday challenge!

December 1984

"You okay?" Y/N's voice echoed through the empty rink as she skated over to the boy sprawled flat on his back, spread-eagled like a snow angel, and it took everything in her not to laugh at the withering glare Steve sent her way when she came to a stop at his side, her toe pick dragging faintly through the ice.

"Just peachy."

"Hey, at least you didn't fall on your face this time," she fired back with a cheeky grin, finally giving into her laughter when he rolled his eyes, muttering "yeah, yeah" under his breath as he took her outstretched hands and let her help him to his wobbly feet. He managed to stand on his own for only a second or two before his arms started flailing and she quickly reached out to steady him once again, her hands wrapped securely around his wrists.

"This is harder than it looks," he said with his own fingers gripping tight to her forearms and Y/N shrugged off that weird feeling she got in her stomach when she felt the warmth of his palms through the thick wool of her sweater.

"Well," she replied, casually starting to skate backwards and pulling Steve along with her, "Those weak ass ankles of yours don't really help, you know."

His laugh rang loud throughout the vacant arena and Y/N's smile grew as she patiently guided him around the ice for a few laps, watching his strides become more and more confident with each left turn.

If someone would've told her she'd be teaching Steve Harrington how to skate, she'd have laughed right in their face. Her, the weird girl who spent way too much time alone at the rink working on her axel, willingly helping him, the king of Hawkins High who had a reputation of only thinking about himself? Fat chance of that.

But there she was, gliding alongside him now as he slowly skated on his own, one hand hovering near his elbow just in case those weak ankles of his decided to give out again and send him into another face plant.

When she agreed to let her neighbor Dustin and his friends come in after closing for a private skate two weeks ago -the rink's owner always let Y/N do whatever she wanted, considering she was both her best employee and customer- she had no idea one of those friends was the infamous teenager himself. Seeing his car roll up that night, Dustin waving enthusiastically from the passenger seat and the others crammed in the back like sardines, instead of Mrs. Henderson's mini van had thrown her for a loop, one that took her an embarrassingly long time to recover from as she let them in through the back door and slipped behind the counter to pass out pairs of skates.

It wasn't until he was standing in front of her asking for a size ten did she look up to acknowledge his presence, instantly noticing the small, almost shy grin he offered her that she awkwardly returned. The two weren't quite friends -never had been, really, despite having at least one class together since the fourth grade (not that she was keeping track or anything, no)- but as Y/N laced up her own skates and led the group out onto the ice, she wondered if maybe, just maybe that could ever change. This Steve was so, so different from the one she knew from school: laughing as he and Dustin both instantly fell to the ground in a heap, a real, genuine smile on his face instead of his usual cocky smirk and she found her eyes following him and his clumsy self throughout the evening, her mind racing as she tried to figure out exactly which version of him was the real thing.

The next afternoon had only confused Y/N further when he showed up unannounced at the rink after school and the sound of his sudden enthusiastic cheering when she successfully landed a double Lutz startled her so badly that she lost an edge and fell on her ass right in front of where he stood by the bleachers.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" He was on the ice before she could protest, shuffling along the glass in his tennis shoes until he reached her and offered a hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you-"

"It's fine, I'm fine," Embarrassed beyond belief, she waved off both his apology and outstretched hand and hauled herself to her feet, first brushing snow from her leggings and then the blades of her skates, one at a time. "That happens a lot, don't worry."

"Oh," He said, letting his arm return to holding onto the boards in an effort to keep himself upright. "Still, I'm sorry-"

"Seriously, Harrington, it's fine. No worries," She smiled, ignoring the stinging pain in her butt and leaned against the glass next to him. "Why are you here, though?"

It was his turn to look embarrassed as that same semi-shy grin from the night before appeared on his face before he blurted out in a rush, "Can you teach me how to skate?"

Y/N blinked. Of all the things to come out of his mouth, that was definitely not what she expected; to be fair, though, anything he could've possibly said would've been pretty damn unexpected, considering the circumstances. "You want me...to teach you...no offense, Steve, but why?"

He shrugged at her question before glancing around the empty arena and leaning close like he was about to spill a secret. "Would you judge me if I said I was trying to impress a girl?"

That was more like the Steve she knew, she thought as she breathed a quick laugh with the shake of her head. "Only a little bit. This girl, she likes to skate?"

He grinned again, this time wide and pretty damn smitten, and nearly lost his balance when he tried to keep one of his feet from slipping out from underneath him. "She's the best skater I know. You should see her out there, gliding around like a freakin' angel or something."

That was...surprisingly sweet coming from the boy she once thought she had all figured out, sweet and sincere and downright adorable and Y/N found herself nodding without any idea why. "Okay."

"Okay what?"

"I'll teach you, alright? I don't mess around when it comes to skating though, so you better be ready to work your ass off."

The smile he sent her way was so bright it was almost blinding, like sunlight dancing off freshly fallen snow. "You're the best, Y/N. I owe you one."

"You got that right, Harrington." She said, wrapping her hand around his elbow and tugging him toward the door that led off the ice. "Let's go get you some skates, first lesson starts now."

Ten lessons in and despite a few nasty falls and a bad habit of tripping over his toe picks, he wasn't doing that badly; not only was he a surprisingly quick learner and good listener, he took her playful teasing like a champ -to be fair, she did tell him she dished out tough love when she taught so he knew that was part of the deal- and threw it right back without a second thought. Never before had she felt so...at ease around someone who wasn't her sister and it was both exhilarating and just a bit scary.

As they finished up their Friday night lesson and stepped out of the rink into the biting wind, Y/N found herself wishing for Monday because the idea of parting ways for the weekend rested heavy on her heart like the big, fat snowflakes that were falling from the dark sky. Becoming friends with Steve was something she never expected -making friends was never an easy thing for her to do- and yet slowly, surely it had happened, and she realized that she would stop the world from spinning if it meant she could spend just a little more time with him. When he lingered by his car, twirling his keys around his finger as white started to dot his stupid, wonderful hair, she hoped he was thinking the same thing.

"So..." She spoke first and broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the parking lot like the falling snow. "I was wondering if you could maybe give me a ride? My car's in the shop and I really don't feel like walking home in this."

"I do owe you," He grinned at the disdained wrinkle in her nose and unlocked the car, climbing inside without a word before reaching over to push open the passenger side door. "Get in, we're getting fries first."

She smiled widely, cheeks stinging from the cold and hope bursting in her chest like New Year's Eve fireworks. "You're buying."

That's how they ended up in a corner booth of the local diner, sharing a basket of fries and sipping on milkshakes despite the snow blowing outside the window.

"Honestly, you're doing pretty well for someone with such weak ankles," Y/N laughed as Steve rolled his eyes and dunked a fry in his shake with more force than necessary.

"You're never gonna let me forget that, are you?"

"Nope." She popped the 'p' of her breezy answer before plucking the cherry from the towering mound of whipped cream on the top of her drink. "Just like you won't let me forget that time I fell on my ass after you scared me and then had the audacity to ask for lessons!"

"Hey, you," He pointed a fry in her direction and laughed when she instantly ripped half of it out of his hand and lobbed it at his chest, "had the audacity to agree to them!"

Y/N pressed her lips together in an effort to keep a straight face as she joked, "You know what? I take back what I said, you haven't improved at all. You're a fucking skating disaster, Harrington."

The gleam in his eyes reminded her of the Christmas lights strung up above their heads, sparkling and bright and full of something that filled her whole body with a lovely warmth she never wanted to lose. "Well, Y/N, hate to break it to you but me sucking just proves you're not that good of a teacher."

"How dare you," She gasped in mock offense and lightly kicked him in the shin, the last of her composure dissolving completely when he fell back against the cracked vinyl seat like he'd been shot. "Good luck impressing your mystery girl without me."

If all her focus wasn't already on the boy sitting across from her, she would've missed the way his grin faltered for just a moment as he turned away to look out the window. Her brow furrowed at that, as well as the sudden bitter taste in her mouth at the mention of the girl he was trying to impress, the girl whose identity was still unknown to her and at this point, she wasn't quite sure if she even wanted to find out.

"Steve?" Her hand moved on its own to lightly touch his wrist, the warmth of his skin bleeding into her cold fingers. "You okay?"

"Why did you do it?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you agree to teach me how to skate? And for nothing, even." He gazed at her over the tall malt glass in front of him, brown eyes searching hers until she looked away, down at her hand still resting on his beside their shared fries as her cheeks started to flood with heat.

She'd been asking herself that question for two weeks now, since this whole thing started at the beginning of December. Two weeks later, with only eight days left before Christmas, she was starting to think she might have an idea why; too bad she was too scared to even admit to to herself, let alone say it out loud.

"I don't know." She answered after a too-long pause in which she pulled her hand back to her lap -with her eyes still cast down at her melting shake, she missed the disappointed look on his face at the loss of her touch- and shrugged her sweater-clad shoulders. "I love skating, okay? It's my favorite thing to do in the world but, honestly, it gets kind of lonely being out on the ice all by yourself. I...I guess I just couldn't pass up an opportunity to share it with someone else...and um, not be alone for once. You can't put a price on that."

When he didn't reply, she glanced up from watching a bead of condensation roll down the stem of her glass only to find him still looking at her, the corner of his mouth turned up in that same soft smile she'd fooled herself into thinking was just for her.

"Even if that someone is me, Y/N?"

She smiled back and bumped her boot against his sneaker under the table. "Even if that someone is you, Steve. You're not as bad as that reputation of yours makes you seem."

A comfortable silence fell over the two teens as they went back to their food, the diner around them becoming busier and busier the later the night went on. Someone switched the radio to a Christmas station and in between bites of fries Y/N softly sang along to Wham!'s Last Christmas, an ear worm of a song that'd been stuck in her head ever since it was released at the beginning of the month.

"This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special."

"Have you ever been afraid of not being good enough for someone?" Steve asked suddenly, causing the girl to look away from the snow still falling steadily outside the window.

"More times than I'd care to admit," She answered honestly, finishing her milkshake and pushing the empty glass to the side. "Why? Is this about your mystery girl?"

"I think I'm realizing that she's way, way out of my league. Like, she's a pro in the MLB and I'm...playing tee ball with five-year-olds." He said as he dragged a fry through the glob of ketchup on his plate, back and forth, over and over until Y/N once again reached across the table to put her hand on his.

"Listen to me and listen good 'cause I'm only gonna say this once," She said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear over the noise of the diner. "If this girl doesn't see how absolutely wonderful you are, she is -and I'm saying this from the very bottom of my heart so you know it's true- a total fucking dumbass. Got it?"

That whooshing feeling in her stomach came flooding back at the sight of the bright blush slowly spreading across his face at her words and as his pinky moved to link with hers, one crazy, impossible thought popped into her head: she'd do anything, absolutely anything to stay in that moment forever.

But that's the sad thing about fleeting, promising moments: eventually, no matter how hard you try, they still come to an end. With their fries gone and milkshake glasses empty, they had no reason to stay and so they ventured back out into the cold night, walking closer than they ever had before to Steve's car. It wasn't until he pulled into her driveway did he speak, turning to face her in the passenger seat and breaking the warm, comforting silence that had wrapped around them like a blanket on the short drive from the diner.

"Thank you."

Y/N quirked an eyebrow. "For what?”

"Everything. Teaching me, what you said back there...being my friend." He said simply and she felt her heart skip a beat when that smile of his appeared on his face and lit up the whole car.

"I should be thanking you," She replied, picking at a loose thread dangling from the sleeve of her coat. "I don't have many friends but I'm really, really happy you're one of them."

"Me, too."

She smiled softly and reluctantly reached down to grab her bag from the floor. "I'd better get inside before my grandpa sends out a search party. Thanks for tonight, I, um, I had a lot of fun."

"So did I, even after you ever so rudely threw that fry at me."

"You deserved it." She said in a sing-song voice as she opened the car door and placed one foot on the snowy ground outside. "I'll see you Mon-"

"Wait." It was his turn to touch her hand, his larger palm folding over hers and stopping her from leaving. "Would you want to do it again sometime? Maybe over Christmas break?"

She hoped all the effort she was putting into keeping her cool was paying off as the butterflies exploded in her stomach at his words. "I'd like that."

He squeezed her hand once before letting go and sending her off with a bright grin. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Steve."

He waited until she disappeared into the house before driving off into the night and she watched him go through the living room window, falling back onto the couch with a giddy smile after his car turned the corner.

The next morning found Y/N alone at the quiet rink, the only sound coming from her blades smoothly cutting through the ice as she skated through her practice routine; triple toe loop, Biellmann spin, double Salchow. It was methodical and soothing, her body running through the maneuvers it knew by heart while her mind thought ahead to the one move that she'd never been able to successfully land: the double Axel. Today was her day, she could feel it and no matter how many tries it took -she'd already bit it twice- she was going to land that jump.

Approaching the move head on, she picked up speed until she was flying across the ice, cold wind whipping through her hair and stinging her cheeks; she bent her left knee, lifted her right foot, and leaped from her left outside edge before spinning two and a half times and landing, albeit a bit shakily, on the outside edge of her right.

"Yes! Holy shit!" The girl's shouts echoed throughout the arena as she spun to a stop, excitedly punching her fist in the air, and she was so caught up in celebrating that she didn't notice when the door opened and someone stepped out onto the ice with her.

"I have no idea what that was but it looked impressive and scary as all hell."

Y/N spun around to face the owner of the sudden, familiar voice and couldn't keep herself from smiling when she noticed no trace of unsteadiness in Steve's skating as he slowly came to a stop at her side. "It's called a double Axel. What are you doing here?"

"Well," He said, cheeks flushed not just from the cold, taking another step closer until his skates bumped against hers, "last night I realized I didn't do something I really wanted to, so I came to fix it."

"And what was it?" Her voice was breathless and full of unbridled hope as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "The thing you didn't do?"

"This."

And with that he cupped her face in both hands and leaned down to press his lips to hers. Y/N responded immediately, kissing him back with everything she had and then some, like she'd wanted to do ever since that first night. That first night when she started to see him for who he really was, not the reputation given to him by their classmates. Ever since that next day when he accidentally scared her and then asked for lessons so he could impress a girl -shit, mystery girl.

Her hands, having found their way to his chest, gently pushed him back at the thought that popped into her head and the loss of his warm touch made her shiver; opening her eyes, she found him looking stricken a foot away, an apology written on his face clear as day.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no! It's not that," She said in a rush, skating forward and all but crashing into him in a desperate attempt to keep him near, to keep that euphoric, heavenly feeling being close to him brought her. "That...that was, shit, that was perfect, okay? But what about her?"

"Her?" His hands gripped her waist as hers settled on his chest once again, gloved fingers curling in the soft cotton of his green sweater. "Who's 'her'?"

"Your mystery girl, the skater!"

The look on Steve's face was the perfect mix of exasperation and affection and she felt her cheeks burn as he replied, "Y/N, it's you. It's always been you."

Oh. Oh. Holy hell, she must be the dumbest bitch on God's green earth. This whole time, it wasn't just wishful thinking: every lingering stare, every lasting touch, every time he smiled that soft smile, they were all real and she could finally say, with certainty, that they were just for her, like she'd always hoped they'd been.

All she could think about now was kissing him again so she tugged him down to her level, fully intent on picking up where they left off and she'd almost reached his lips before he slipped and sent them both tumbling to the ice in a tangle of limbs.

"Maybe I still need more lessons after all," He said, propping himself up on his elbow and smiling down at the laughing girl lying beneath him.

"Hey, I finally thought of something you can do to pay me back!"

The ice was cold through her leggings but she didn't even notice as she slid her fingers into his hair and pulled him down so they were barely an inch apart.

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

tagging some moots who might be interested ❤: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown @alexa-playafricabytoto @perkeusjackson @chrlsgillespie

#obxmermaidholiday #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fic

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lucky-bucky-boy · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer Pt. II

Summary: Based loosely off of Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift. Huge muse for this part was also Resentment by Kesha. After what was considerably one of the worst nights to ever be lived, things just seem to keep getting worse. Or will they?

Word Count: 2634

Warnings: Angst, lots of fucking angst, the reader talking a lot, manipulative speech, very slight age gap, anxiety, almost ddlg elements but not quite (Please let me know if I missed anything, I will be happy to add on)

A/N: Tags are at the bottom I know this had been long awaited and I’m so sorry it took so long. I had to rewrite the beginning so many times because the first part just seemed to flow so beautifully and I was having troubles encapsulating the grace. Will be added to AO3 at some point. NO spoilers, takes place before the events of Knives out. Read Part One Here

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs, likes, comments, and constructive criticism welcomed and highly appreciated.

Golden rays of sunshine creeped over rooftops, illuminating the room as it fought the cold of the night out that had settled in every crevice - a cold that was a constant reminder of the half empty bed. Soft sheets and expensive pillows that we no better than the pictures that were facedown on the dresser. A light snore and ball of exuberant warmth curled at the end of the unnecessary king size bed that somehow managed to ignite joy while drowning the feeling with sorrow. Even in the early morning hours, just minutes after the sun had risen, there was only one thing to be thought about, one person; Ransom.

An insistent vibrating disturbed what little peace had fallen over the room, uncharacteristically early to the weekly norm. Even after it would stop, moments later it would begin again and it seemed that it wasn't going to go away anytime soon. A crack in the foundation, a rumbling earthquake that rocked the stability and what had started becoming a little better everyday was ready to crumble and fall.

Paying attention to details should be a strong suit for someone who had two books published and one in the works - it was a talent that was nearly mastered by this point. But, emotionally drained and foggy brained from the expense that was a Thrombey family dinner, one that would surely be the talk of the family for months, and a restless night filled with discomfort and anxiety left any common sense buried under endless amounts of exhaustion.

A quick swipe of a thumb, the light press of the cell phone to your ear, and suddenly everything froze. The feeling as if suddenly bathed in freezing water while fiery coals scorched your feet, butterflies lifting your chest higher to cloud nine while a pit opened in your stomach, heart racing with some wild mixture of dread and excitement; "My house at 3. Don't be late, baby girl."

That godforsaken drawl, the smirk that was evident in his voice, the fucking nickname. The line went dead, a heavy silence flooding the room like a tsunami. Thoughts raced in circles, picking apart and trying to guess what he could possibly want.

Was he going to rub it in your face that he got under your skin? Made your blood boil? Of course he knew how he affected you, he knew you too well, better than anyone would like to admit. An apology? No - that's too far fetched, even after everything Ransom never was the one to apologize, even if he also knew it would be best. Possibly he had gathered the rest of your things, finally ready to rid himself of them. It's not like you took much when he told you to leave, and it was unlikely he would have taken the time himself to go through everything. He probably paid the maid extra to do it overnight so he wouldn't have to.

Either way, after last night, Ransom was the last person you wanted or expected to hear from. The sting of the incident, salt that was rubbed roughly in an aging wound, still fluttered deep in your chest. His words, the family's reaction, the countless notifications still untouched. Nothing anyone could have told you or showed you would have prepared you for what you had felt in that moment.

Heavy limbs moved numbly but swiftly, mind working like the rusted innards of a clock, slow and almost confused. It didn't make sense as to why he would want to see you, he had done enough damage as is. The confusion quickly boiled over, simmering down to a fluttering anxiety of constant what ifs running their courses through your mind.

The growing pup stirred at the feel of you moving from the bed, quickly laying his head back down when he saw you trudge into the bathroom. After a much longer than anticipated shower, the feel of the too warm water running down your skin and feeling as though it was washing away every single issue and emotion, a wave a vague normalcy set in.

For at least a little you could believe this was normal, that it was just like last summer. Get up, get ready for the day, get some work done, then pamper before heading over to see Ransom. Just this time, there was a slightly different agenda. It wouldn't be all heated kisses, starved touches, and craved intimacy, it wouldn't be whispers of sweet nothings and the comfort of a protective embrace - even if every fiber of you craved it like a bad drug, it couldn't happen again, at least not that easily. And who was to say that was even his plan.

Anticipation made the hours go by slower than what was deemed truly plausible, and no matter what the possibilities of what was to come just wouldn't stop taunting every corner of your thoughts. Embarrassingly so you found yourself preparing much earlier than necessary, restyling yourself a handful of times to make sure stunning couldn't even come close to describing how effortlessly perfect you looked. If Ransom wanted to play games, you were determined to have the ball in your field for as long as possible. And to top it off, you made sure that nothing you had on was bought by him.

But you could only hope that your efforts weren't in vain as you made your way to his house, a place of memories in the middle of pretty much nowhere. An almost 40 minute drive making way for doubts to slowly creep in and settle in the back of your mind. What if he could tell you tried too hard? He could so easily read you, it was as if you were one of your books. Or what if he thought you were trying to impress him? The only time you ever went out of your way to put much effort into your appearance was when you wanted him to really notice you or if he was taking you out. Maybe going in general was a bad idea and this was just some sick joke of his.

But there was no time to back out as you pulled up in front of the house, his sitting silhouette evident through the glass window. Ransom noticed you immediately, moving to sit whatever was in his hands down and made his way to the door, already standing on the porch before you had even gotten out of your car.

A slight uneasiness settled between the two of you, his arms crossed over his chest and eyebrows raised as he watched you, almost expectantly. The look was reminiscent of how your parents would stare you down when you were younger, when you had done something wrong.

You stood outside your car, staring at him and matching his stance, only adding to the annoyance that was written on his face. "What do you want, Hugh?" The irritation in your voice was evident, and you were more than thankful your words didn't fail you. Stomach twisting in intricate knits, chest fluttering, palms becoming clammy; it was a genuine miracle you hadn't tripped over your words.

His set jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he registered how you spoke to him, how you addressed him, "Just get in here. We need to talk."

A scoff fell from your lips as you made your way inside, "Always the gentlemen, aren't you," you spat, rolling your eyes as you walked towards the kitchen. Despite not intending on staying long, you threw your belongings on the island and leaned against the marble countertop, watching him as he stalked towards you, a nearly predatory look in his eyes. "What exactly do we need to talk about? I feel like last night made our positions pretty fucking clear."

He tsked, shaking his head. "You just don't get it, baby girl, dya?"

Ransom opened his mouth to talk again but you cut him off, agitation finally bubbling over and bordering on rage, "I don't get it?" The words were hissed out and soaked in utter disbelief, "What exactly don't I fucking get, Ransom? The fact that you like to start shit? Or the fact that months after you told me to get the fuck out, you show up to a dinner you don't ever go to to cause a fucking scene, then tell me to meet you at your house the next day? What twisted memory of yours triggered you to suddenly act like you care about me? Why the fuck couldn't you just leave well enough alone?"

The taught muscles of his jaw twitched, intense blues boring into your own gaze. "You're such a spoilt fucking brat," he groaned out. "We had an agreement. No one was supposed to find out, but you had to go and-"

"I had to go and what?" You cut him off once again, only fueling the tension between the two of you and prodding the beast of emotions that was storming inside both of your bellies, "You are the one who opened your mouth, you are the one who fucking started this, all of this. From that night in the fucking bar, to you telling me I was the best thing to ever happen to you, to opening up your mouth last night. You always start it. And you're just pissed I finished it before you could get me to break in front of you."

A lump in your throat was beginning to form, jaw clenching as you swallowed, a feeble attempt to keep your emotions from getting the best of you. The rage was quickly turning into sorrow and hurt, the fire in your chest turning into an ache that couldn't be ignored, "You're just disappointed I waited until I got home, got away from you, to break down. Because you didn't get the satisfaction of seeing the pain you've caused."

There was a sudden twist in the atmosphere, hurricane breaking for a moment of relief before harsh waves continued to crash against the shore, "You act like I wanted to hurt you," his voice was grim, face painting in slight disgust, "Everything was great between us - You are the one who broke the rules. Not me."

Ransom's head cocked to the side some, gaze moving over your features quickly, examining and calculating, "And even now," a small huff in disbelief as he shook his head, large hand moving to run through his hair which you had just noticed was free of any products. Odd, even for him. "Even now, you still came, you're still here. And I'm still thinking of giving you another chance."

Something buried deep within you snapped, a flood of pain filling every nerve and forcing tears to well in your eyes. "You're giving me another chance?" Any illusion of resolve and strength that had been built up had disappeared as quick as a snap of fingers, uneven breaths doing their best to keep the floodgates closed. "Ransom, you broke my fucking heart," each word filled with more hurt and distrust than the last, each a cut to the man who stood before you, his face softening as he watched you, "You're not the one here who should be giving out second chances, you're the one who should be receiving them."

The realization hit him, a douse of cold water to the face as his mind worked. Silence, albeit slightly uncomfortable, fell between the two of you as the gravity of the last few moments came crashing down. Just as it became too much to handle, lip quivering as the overwhelming urge to cry started becoming harder to fight off, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into him.

Time seemed to slow, a few broken sobs slipping out, body shaking with the force of each one. The natural scent of him filling your senses, no expensive cologne, the feel of the soft sweater an unwanted comfort. Ransom's arms hugged tighter, lips going to your hairline, and staying like that until reality hit you. A weak push, one he could have easily ignored and overpowered, and he stepped away, his features much more readable, looking far more vulnerable. He was much more vulnerable, much more vulnerable than you were ever used to.

Shaky breaths fell from you, trying to clear the fog that was beginning to form over rational thoughts. Wiping your eyes you looked at him, "What exactly is it that you want, Ransom? Why did you really ask me to come over?"

He looked almost taken aback, confused and dazed by the question, but more so by his own train of thought. His mouth opened then closed, repeating the action a few more times before groaning out exasperatedly. "I don't know, for things to go back to how they were?" It sounded far more like a suggestion than an answer. "Come on, (Y/N), we were good together."

The words came off as if he was trying to convince himself that this was what he wanted. You waited, seeing if he would try to convince you, persuade you like he believed he so easily could, how he used to. "I- No," you shook your head, "I can't do that to myself again, I can't let you do that to me again."

"Do what?" He practically snapped, jaw setting as agitation made home in him once again. He didn't expect it to be so damn hard. He no undoubtedly assumed that he'd immediately have you wrapped around his finger like nothing had changed. "Treat you like a fucking princess? Treat you how you deserve to be treated? You and I both know that you're never gonna be able to find someone who can give you what I gave you, nothing that's going to have that same thrill we did."

Shaking your head you grabbed your bag, throwing it over your shoulder. "See Ransom, you're the one that doesn't get it. I want that more than anything. I want the spontaneous trips and heartfelt gifts. I want the late night conversations and finishing each other's sentences. I would give anything to be on your jet flying to whatever place you're insisting I need to see. I want it all," your voice was practically a whine by the end of it, "But I don't want the sneaking and the hiding. I don't want the separate houses. I don't want lying to everyone."

Running a hand through your hair, you took a shaky breath, trying to calm your nerves. "I need someone who isn't going to just care for me behind a closed door," the calmness of your voice even scared you in the moment, and seeing that Ransom practically froze you could tell he was feeling the same, "I need someone who is going to be there for me how you were, but isn't ashamed of it. That won't get mad when I take cutesy pictures of us on the beach, that won't pretend to hate me in front of their family and friends, that I don't have to pretend is someone else when I'm talking about them. I don't want things to go back to how they were, I want them to be better than they were."

You walked past his nearly frozen stature, heading for the door. "I love you Ransom, and probably always will. But I love myself more than that and I can't let myself be hurt like that again."

The words echoed off the hallway, ringing in his ears and sitting like a heavy weight on his chest. Your reached for the door, stopping suddenly as his voice reached back out, "Wait - I- fuck," he let out a shaky breath. "Don't leave. Not yet at least. Can we sit and talk over dinner? Please."

Taglist: (Slash through means unable to be tagged) @sweetlittlegingy @star-spangled-steve @jessiejunebug @fresa-luna @thegirlwithpaperheart @jesaigne @introvertedmouse @sinner-as-saint @sp2900 @qrndevans @dammitcaswhy @livsheph @darcia22 @paranjaperiyauniverse @dramaticsassmaster @rose-k @lovemesomeavengers @steeeeverogers @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @bemysugarbean @dreamlesswonder86 @ambrosixx @heyiamthatbitch @daazzeey, @fresa-luna @bitchcraftandwitchery @thatoneslytherinbeater @breezyfreezey @quesadellacatburglar @renxzs @imsonick @sambucky8 @honeybabybubba

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pan-cakez · 4 years

Text

A Strange Meeting

This story was inspired by @virgil-is-a-cutie‘s post about an AU where Dr. Hugo Strange is Marinette’s father. I haven’t written in years, so it’s pretty shit, but I definitely enjoyed writing it. It’s almost 3000 words and I’m proud! :) Here we go!

One last romp. This was supposed to be the end, but it sparked a new beginning. Sabine knew that Hugo loved his work. Maybe too much. There was no space in his heart for her, and she grew weary of missed dates, and so many rain checks. She still loved, him, but just couldn’t take it anymore. He did a lot of good work, she just felt like she was just a side fling, whereas science was his wife. She said her goodbyes, but they had one last go before she left, and that changed both of their lives.

~ 14 years later ~

Marinette was way too excited to go to Gotham. There was the chance for her to meet her biological father. Don’t get her wrong, she still loves Tom, and she wears the Cheng Dupain-Strange name with pride since she sees Tom as her primary father figure, she just wants to know more about her history. Her mom told her all about Hugo, and how she keeps in touch with him. Marinette thinks it’s sweet that he’s invested in her, and is encouraging her love for science. Sabine finds it endearing he’s warmer to Marinette than he ever was to her. When Sabine found out that Marinette’s class was going to Gotham, she told Hugo immediately, and the letter read as if he was excited, but Sabine could tell that he was nervous. She wasn’t worried about that, because she knew that once he met Marinette, his worries would be at ease.

The day of the trip, Marinette brought four dozen macarons. Three dozen was vanilla and for the staff so she could impress them, and one dozen was matcha for Hugo since Sabine told her that it was his favorite flavor since she made it for him all the time. She also designed a couple ties for him. She just really wanted to impress him. She knows that her mom told her that it would be fine, and that he would adore her anyway, but she wanted to be sure.

When she got to the school, Adrien was waiting there alongside Juleka, Nino, Max, Ivan, Kim and Nathaniel. Everyone had their luggage in tow, and the air felt charged with energy. Marinette was just full of excitement to see her friend group. Lila’s lies destroyed some of Marinette’s friendships, but these people stood by her throughout the situation, and still do. They’re the ones who are getting her through the whole situation and are her rocks. Juleka actually didn’t believe her at first, but Luka called her out, and made her realize her mistakes. When she apologized, Marinette took it step by step with her, and they managed to get their friendship back to where it used to be. Juleka ran up to Marinette and threw her hand around her shoulder. “I’m excited that we’re roommates!” Marinette giggled and the both of them walking to the boys. Adrien smiled and her and waved. “Marinette! I’m so glad to see you! I’m excited that you’re coming.” Once Madame Bustier called them to the bus, they all started buzzing with excited for the trip.

For the majority for her travels, Marinette sat with Adrien. With the whole Lila situation, she just needed as many friends as she can get. She also knew that Lila was careful around Adrien to protect everything she has with his father. That didn’t stop her from tripping Marinette when they were boarding the plane. Adrien knew it was Lila, but Marinette told him that it was just her own clumsiness just to avoid with issues with Lila and their classmates. Adrien made sure that Marinette sat with him, and they were far away from Lila. He also made sure that she had the window seat and he was on the isle so Marinette doesn’t have to deal with Lila doing anything while she’s walking past their seat.

When they arrived at the hotel, Lila tried to claim one of the luxe suites that was booked for the trip. She claimed some kind of chronic back issues and needed the softer bed. Chloe scoffed and stood in front of Lila. “My dad specifically paid for those rooms for my friends and I. You aren’t my friend and never will be, so. Back. Off.” Lila rolled her eyes and looked to Mme Bustier. “Mme. Bustier, could you please ask Chloe to accommodate me? I don’t think it’s fair that her and her friends get special treatment in the first place, but at least they can give me a space for my health issues.” Chloe scoffed again, but Mme Bustier looked at Chloe made a disappointed face. “Lila’s right you know.” Chloe put her hands on her hips, and hissed at Mme Bustier stating, “My father paid extra for these rooms. Unless either of you are willing to pay him back for a room, I don’t want to hear it. Now suffer Lie-la.” Chloe grabbed Marinette and stormed to the concierge desk with the rest of the friend group followed her.

When they checked in, Chloe made that Marinette’s room was right next to hers. When Marinette got into the room, she laid on the bed and sighed, with Juleka sitting down on the bed. “Hey, thanks for everything. I know things have been hard, but you still managed to be kind to me despite how I treated you.” Marinette sat up and looked at Juleka. Despite them being across the room from each other, Juleka can still feel the emotions in Marinette’s eyes. “You changed your mind and believed me. Even if it cost you your relationship with Rose, you still decided to do the right thing, and I think that’s amazing.” Juleka moved to lay down, and they both laid there silently, thinking about lost friends before going to bed.

When they woke up, it was to someone banging on their door. Marinette looked through the peephole and saw an annoyed Chloe at the door. Marinette opened the door and Chloe stormed in. “Get ready Cheng, we’re going to breakfast. And it’s important to look nice because I’m meeting a family friend. I was supposed to meet Sabrina, but she disgusts me, as well as everyone who believes that idiot, so that’s why you’re coming instead. If you embarrass me, I will never let you live it down. Meet me in the lobby.” Chloe stormed off, and left Marinette looking astounded before quickly running to get ready.

Marinette waited in the lobby, looking around before she saw Chloe stepping out of the hallway. When she saw Marinette, she huffed and checked her phone impatiently. Suddenly Adrien came running towards them. Chloe huffed at him and started walking out to the waiting car. Adrien and Marinette followed Chloe and Adrien chuckled softly. When they were in the car and on their way, Adrien apologized for his lateness. “Dad wouldn’t let me leave until he made sure that my outfit was impeccable. I don’t know why I called him in the first place.” Chloe rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Adrien and Marinette giggled at her behavior, and they talked the entire way while Chloe interjected from time to time.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Marinette was surprised. It was extremely upscale, and intimidating. Chloe dragged her in, and scanned the place until her eyes landed on a boy that looked about their age. “Bruce!” The boy looked up when he heard Chloe and smiled. Chloe pulled Marinette over to the table and sat down. Marinette sat down next to her, and Adrien joined Bruce in sitting across from the girls. Bruce extended his hand to Marinette. “Hi, I’m Bruce Wayne.” Marinette smiled and took his hand. “I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” “Marinette,” Bruce whispered, as if he was trying her name out, and he smiled softly. Chloe poked Marinette and said “Stop flirting, the both of you.” Marinette blushed and Bruce laughed.

Breakfast went way less embarrassingly for Marinette after that point. She tried to order smaller food items since the restaurant was higher scale, but everyone talked her out of it. She insisted that she wasn’t that hungry, but Chloe and Adrien knew she was lying. Bruce offered to pay for her food, and she didn’t have to have to pay him back, which eased her. She ended up ordering enough to make her full, and Bruce ended paying for everyone since he believed they were his guests in his hometown, so it’s the least he can do to welcome them. Goodbyes were said and Marinette was pleasantly surprised that Bruce hugged her. She felt like he opened up to her, and that maybe he could be a new friend. One that was removed from Lila and was basically a blank slate for friendship. They could be friends without the trauma. Although she was worried that this was a front, and that he was really hurting, but didn’t tell anyone after the death of his parents. She really hopes that he gets all the help needs, and is surrounded by people that care.

When they got back, Marinette went straight to her room and dressed a little more casually for the asylum tour. She grabbed the purse that she packed the macarons in, and ran to the lobby. When she got back there and saw Adrien, it looked like he had the same idea. Adrien saw her and laughed. “Your clothes were a little too stuffy too?” Marinette smiled and walked over to him. The rest of her friends made their way over, and Lila looked at them from across the lobby in disgust. She wanted to get at Marinette, but how can she do it in a way that still makes her look innocent? A plan was hatched, and Lila was almost too excited to put it into action.

When they boarded the bus, Adrien asked if Marinette was excited, and she blushed, and nodded. Everyone took their seats and they were on their way. The bus ride was uneventful, which should have relieved Marinette, but it instead worried her. What was Lila planning, and when was she going to do it? Would it embarrass her in front of her biological father? Will it make him hate her? All these questions raced in her mind and her unease radiated off of her for the entirety of the ride.

When they got into the asylum, Marinette was quite fidgety. She usually learned to internalize these feelings, but it was too much for her. She held her purse close to her, feeling some comfort in the baked goods. A lot of staff members sent soft smiles her, which made her much more nervous and she felt sick, but she ended up pulling herself together. When they got into the staff office, she placed the vanilla macarons a desk. She looked around, and saw him talking to one of her coworkers. She felt as if her heart was ready to beat out of her chest. Her throat felt dry and she felt rooted in her spot. What does she say to Hugo? ‘Hey, I’m the kid you didn’t want, but here I am to meet you, like some kind of haunting ghost?’ There’s really nothing she could say. She was wearing gold and red hair ties since she wrote him that it’s how he can pick her out from the class. He could tell her apart anyway, but she didn’t know that. He was actually quite terrified to meet her, because he didn’t want to disappoint her. But when he turned and saw her class, he knew it was time to face his fear.

Lila looked around, and saw the boxes with the logo of Marinette’s bakery and sneered at her. “Why’d you bring these?” Marinette stepped up and put her hand in front of the macarons. “They’re not for you. Or anyone else from our class for that matter.” Lila laughed loudly to grab everyone’s attention. “You brought them for the inmates, didn’t you? You’re probably related to one of them! It explains your issues.” Marinette stood in front of Lila and placed her hands on her hips. The class hushed, and watched in silence. “I’m not related to one of the inmates.” “She’s related to me.” Marinette turned around to see Hugo in the entry way, and she smiled softly. Everyone looked shocked, while Marinette walked up to Hugo. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” She hugged Hugo immediately after speaking and he was shocked for a second before hugging her back. When they pulled away, he smiled softly. “Your mom has been sending me photos of you since you were born. You look more and more like her every time.” Marinette blushed and pulled the matcha macarons out of her purse. “Mom told me you would like these.” Hugo smiled and took them. “I’m sure I’d enjoy anything you make.” Marinette twiddled her fingers before Hugo cleared his throat and spoke to the class. “Hello everyone. I am Doctor Hugo Strange, and I will be taking you on a tour of the facility. Everyone, follow Marinette.” He started making his way out of the office with the class in tow.

In-between stops on the tour, Dr. Strange made an effort to talk to Marinette. He could feel her happiness radiate through him. The more they talked, the more he regretted leaving her and her mother. He wishes he could take it all back and be able to experience everything, but he can’t. All he can do is focus on being more active in her life from this point on. He was so nervous she would hold some kind of sentiment against him, but she clearly doesn’t, and it made him so happy. All his nerves just melted away. The same went for Marinette. She knew that Lila couldn’t try anything because Hugo would see and punish the class in some way, and Lila would be blamed for ruining the tour. She genuinely had fun.

At the end of the tour, Hugo said there was a special place that he could only take several students to, and that Marinette got to pick. There were enough spots for Marinette’s friends, which she thought was a coincidence, but Hugo knows it wasn’t. He knew of all the issues Marinette was facing with Lila, and thought that it would be great for Marinette to have her friends experience something great for staying with her. He took them into a room in the back, where bunch of people were waiting. They weren’t scientists, nor inmates judging by their clothes, so who were they? One of the people waiting there saw Doctor Strange and smiled. “Ey Doc! Gotta say your daughter is super adorable!” Hugo chuckled and Marinette blushed. “Students, I would like you all to meet ex-patients of mine.” One of the women walked up to Marinette and shook her hand. “Fish Mooney. Nice to meet you sweetheart.” Marinette smiled at Fish. The other ex-patients didn’t really introduce themselves, but engaged with the students nonetheless.

After talking with the ex-patients and learning about their experiences, the group went back to meet their classmates, who looked bitter, especially Lila. Marinette looked at her smugly before hugging Hugo. “Thanks for everything!” Hugo smiled and kissed her forehead softly. The class started to head out, and Hugo looked sadly at Marinette. He sincerely wants to be in her life, but the work he does, is unethical to say the least. He’s putting her at risk to pay for his sins, and she’s too good for that. Her and her mother are both too good for that. He needs to change, here and now. He can’t undo all the damage he’s done, but at least he can prevent a lot more.

When it came to stopping his backdoor dealings, it was a lot easier than expected. When he explained about his kid, no one really gave him retaliation. He reached out to Bruce to start funding the program that Hugo and Bruce’s father started decades ago. He willingly did so, and as per Hugo’s request, split the ownership between Bruce and Marinette. Hugo started pushing boundaries, but in a much more humane and legal way. He’s been sending letters to Marinette explaining his discoveries, and making sure that Marinette knows that should she need an internship, the company doors are always open. The demons from Hugo’s demons haunt him from time to time, but the strength that Marinette gives him, allows him to defeat those demons, and keep making those discoveries that make a positive difference in the world. Hugo knew the saying that having a kid changes you for the better, but he never imagined it being to this extent. You know what though? He’s definitely glad that she’s made him a better man.

#bio!dad au #bio!dad #bio!dad hugo strange #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug au #miraculous ladybug x gotham #gotham

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renxamamiya · 4 years

Text

Bitter Madwoman

An AU I was talking about with @rui-the-galax-angel and @digifangirl97 that I finally got done!

Contains P5R spoilers. Obvs.

Also on AO3!

Warm lights illuminated the patrons that sat below them, plush seats and tables draped in beautiful white decorated the room alongside vases of flowers and potted trees, the voices of happy couples and the clattering of cutlery on plates from hungry diners echoed from the ivory-coloured walls, golden accented windows framed the Tokyo skyline as lights from buildings and cars twinkled in the murky blue-black haze of night as the full moon rose above them.

Takuto smiled as he watched Rumi laugh, a light blush appearing on his cheeks as he chuckled alongside her. They were at an outing together, their time apart too long for either of their liking as their commitments pulled them apart, moments between them before shared only by fleeting meetings in the cafeteria they shared before going about their education. They had missed each other, yet when the shackles of work and obligations loosened, they both jumped at the chance of arranging a formal date between them, and what better date then the anniversary of their relationship?

They had also met for another occasion: the meeting of Takuto's parents. Four years into their relationship it felt appropriate to meet the ones who raised Takuto, as he had met Rumi's parents a couple of months ago, a courtesy that was suggested by Rumi herself before they parted towards their own personal obligations.

“I can’t- I can’t believe that happened!” Rumi laughed, clearly entertained by the tale Takuto told of her of his childhood, giggling between breaths as Takuto rubbed his neck in sheepish embarrassment, having told her a tale of a camping trip gone awry.

"Yeah," Takuto said sheepishly, yet he peaked a look at Rumi as she continued to laugh. The way her red hair shone under the light, how captivating her eyes were as she laughed, how her cheeks puffed as she laughed; Takuto thought she looked captivating, an angel on Earth, his treasure as she reached for her glass of wine, having calmed as she took a sip from the cup. "I'm sure that the deer was more startled than me. My parents were less than impressed with me going off on my own into the woods at night, even if I was desperate for some privacy,"

"I'm sure they were just looking out for you," Rumi rationalised, fiddling the simple apple-like pendant on her neck that Takuto had given her that night, "Though to be honest, you were a lot braver than I would have been. I remember being so scared of bats that would swoop by our tent. My parents would insist they wouldn't get in but, little old me would still be deathly afraid of them,"

"Oh? I thought you would have at least fought them off," Takuto jokes, and Rumi pulls an unimpressed face.

"So, your father's a no-nonsense man who would fight a deer in order to protect his son," Rumi summarised as she curled her finger around the chain of her pendant, still amused by the camping story Takuto had told her, "What about your mom?"

"My, mom? Well," Takuto blinked, gazing in thought, "Oh, my mom! Well... she's... interesting,"

"Like all mothers,"

"Yes, like all mothers. She's, uh, trendy? Unlike my father, my mother tends to be ore in the know when it comes to trends and technology, always insisting I go into computing or the sciences when the Internet was still in its infancy, though I remember my dad needed to be thoroughly convinced that the investment of a home computer wasn't a total waste," Takuto explained.

"I bet he regrets his perspective as technology continues to improve," Rumi said almost mischievously, and Takuto chuckles.

"Maybe, I don't know. He still insists that traditional pen and paper working is more efficient, though he doesn't deny the new business opportunities the technology we have now has given him and his company. Honestly, I'm still surprised he allowed me to pursue a degree in psychology, being the traditional man, he is… maybe he’s finally catching up with the rest of the world,"

"Oh, speaking of psychology," Rumi piqued as their food arrived in front of them, the two thanking their waiter before turning back to their conversation, "How's your research paper on Cognitive Psience coming along?"

"It's coming along fine, actually," Takuto smiles as he digs into his meal, "I'm just finishing up compiling and referencing sources for the current chapter I'm working on. It's such a pain sometimes, you have no idea how many journals I have open on both my laptop and my desk,"

"A lot," Rumi guesses jokingly, and Takuto laughed.

"How 'a lot' are you talking about?"

"Oh, I was thinking about, 'a hurricane of paper and books scattered around the room as you try to find the paper you are actually holding in your hand' a lot,"

"That's... not really far from the truth," Takuto admitted embarrassingly, and Rumi laughed, "You really know me,"

"I mean, we spent a lot of study nights together,"

"That is also true,"

“But” Rumi started, now intensely looking at Takuto, her eyes glowing with earnest and appreciation, “This whole ‘Cognitive Psience’ research… A whole new field of psychology… It’s...”

“I know,” Takuto breathed, “It’s certainly interesting, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “It certainly is,”

---

Siren lights danced dizzyingly against the heavy darkness that seemed to encompass the narrow neighbourhood that Takuto’s parents lived in, Rumi taking a sip from the warm cup of water she nestled in her hands as she looked worryingly at the crime scene in front of her.

Takuto had yet to emerge from the house, yet Rui could not blame him. He was the one who first stumbled upon the obscene, visceral aftermath of a robbery gone horribly, horribly wrong. Rumi gagged remembering the sour, metallic smell of blood, the amount of it. The pool; it seemed to inch towards them, Takuto just standing there, mouth agape and skin pale and eyes wide and-

She swallowed the bile that rose from the back of her throat, quickly sipping another gulp of the water that the paramedics had given her, pulling the comforting blanket they provided her tighter as she stared down at the worn concrete of the road. It wasn’t her who’d had called the police, but a neighbour who was thankfully up at the time after hearing gunshots, though she would have wished they had called sooner…

“Miss Tanaka,” a small, petite woman in a paramedic uniform approached her, “How are you doing? Is there anything you might need?”

“Takuto,” she thought as she looked at the nurse with a dull expression, feeling nothing but numb. Her chest was hollow, the rhythmic feel of her heart was intangible to her, and she begged silently that this was some sort of sick, twisted nightmare. That Takuto’s parents were still alive, that Takuto was beside her, carefree and romantic in what felt like an age ago.

“I-”

A scream that was not hers rang from the house; Rumi instinctively jolted onto her feet as the paramedic ran back in alongside police. Thrashing could be heard, the sound of broken pottery and glass and falling objects echoed out from the doorway as more personnel went in. Rumi wanted to ask someone what had happened. Had they caught one of the perpetrators? Had they found another relative miraculously alive? Yet when she saw the familiar curl of hair her stomach sunk as Takuto was dragged outside into the cold, February air, screaming and howling in frantic despair as police officers and personnel alike restrained him, flailing about in their grip as they tried their best to escort him back into one of the ambulances.

“Takuto!” Rumi screamed after her love, dropping the cup in her hands, the metal clanging onto the faded asphalt as she rushed to be at his side, the blanket that hugged her shoulders desperately clinging onto her small frame as she ran through the crowd of strangers, only to be stopped by a police officer who cut the path before her.

“Ma’am, I need you to calm down-”

“Calm down?! Calm down?!” Rumi snapped, denial swelling into anger as she shouted at the officer who impeded her path towards Takuto, “My boyfriend’s parents are dead, and he’s currency screaming like a lunatic, how can I calm down if he’s suffering?! I need to be at his side, I need-”

“Ma’am, please be assured that your partner will be safely escorted to a nearby hospital,” the officer informed her with professional calmness, his gaze sympathetic towards the redhead as Rumi stared at him with hateful eyes.

Seconds passed between them before Rumi sighed defeatedly, her shoulders relaxing as she looked sadly passed the officer to see the paramedics finally able to escort Takuto into a nearby ambulance, one of them poking their head out of the vehicle, but not before making eye contact with the solemn redhead, giving her quick, pitiful look before closing the doors fully, Rumi watching wearily as the man she loves being sped away. She stood there, long after the red and white vehicle disappeared amongst the houses, and clutched the blanket tightly around her, allowing herself to be escorted by the officer away from the scene of the crime.

---

The claustrophobic room was dark, the only light that illuminated the words were from the desk lamp that buzzed lazily over the papers in her hands as Rumi began to read the familiar handwriting of Takuto. Her fingers were coiled around the lined paper of his notes, back hunched while she sat as she intensely scanned the pages for anything that could help her in rescuing Takuto from his trance-like state. She was desperate. They had told her - assured her even - that Takuto would come out of this paralysed state, that they were putting him through treatments to coax him out of his traumatised state; but that was weeks ago, and with no improvements to his condition, Rumi desperately turned to his research.

Cognitive Psience, the study of the supernatural foundations of the human mind. Rumi remembers while in university together Takuto expressed a fascination, often sending articles and stories about the untapped potential of the human mind, the perception of the world around them, and the fascination of concepts that were totally 'fake' becoming 'real' in the public's eye. Though the human mind had been explored countless of different ways in numerous case studies and experiments, this field was something new, something uncharted, and Rumi could not deny the spark Takuto had in his eyes when discussing the possible applications this new research could help in the field of therapy.

She continued to flick through the pages, scrambling in trying to find anything that could help Takuto, almost tearing the pages as she turns them, yet when she reaches the blank, back of the notebook she felt like crying in frustration, slamming the book closed and tossing it away among other similarly bound books, and she buries her face in her hands.

Days. She spent so many days reading and rereading his notes, trying to find something that could help her, yet the despair and grief she had been running away from all this time had finally caught up to her, gripping her throat as the sobs she choked on as she allowed hot tears to roll down her pale face. The sleepless nights that continually plagued her, the aching loneliness she felt when her hand drifted into Takuto's space on the bed. Even cuddling his shirts, inhaling his soft, familiar musky scent did nothing to ease the stress and desperation she felt knowing Takuto wasn't there with her. She missed how sweet and gentle his laugh was, his warm eyes glimmered under the light of the setting sun, the comforting feeling of security and ease when his arms were wrapped around her. She missed him, and her heart ached more each time she defeatedly wandered back into Takuto's hospital room to find the man she loved now reduced to a hollow, staring statue of his former self.

Her head ached as much as her heart, Rumi groaned, reflexively reaching one of her hands to massage her eyes. The headaches she got from lack of sleep were quickly becoming commonplace as she continued her search for anything that could salvage even a fragment of her lover, a dull thud pulsated in her skull alongside her heavy eyelids and stinging eyes. She felt sick, she felt awful, but she needed to keep going, she thought to herself, she needed to-

A sharp, more forceful pain shot through her head, Rumi yelped in pain as she clutched a fistful of her red hair. She felt sick, dizzying nausea taking over, her vision swimming as she splayed her other hand onto the table, and she swore she could see something hover near her; a foreign voice echoed in her mind, calling to her.

“H-Hello?” she called out into the empty room; her voice weak as she tried to fight through the oppressive exhaustion that clawed away at her sanity. She got up from her seat, immediately regretting her decision as her legs wobbled weakly under the weight of her small body. A hand on the desk as she called out again, "Hello? Is… is anyone there?"

"...o...mu...eek...e..."

She gripped her head again, her surroundings flashed before her eyes. That voice. There was something. Something behind her. Something with her. Yet when she turned again there was nothing but scattered papers and silence.

---

“Hello Takuto, how are you feeling today?”

Light shone through the wide windows of the hospital room, the slight sterile smell permeated throughout, only tempered with the fresh scent of flowers - daisies and hydrangeas - that sat next to Takuto on his bedside table. Rumi sat next to him in a small, sturdy wooden chair, a cheery smile on her face, yet her eyes betrayed her hidden anxiety as they darted around Takuto’s body for any sign of recovery.

It has been more than three months ever since the robbery-turned-murder of his parents. Each day Rumi never once failed to visit Takuto in his room. Each time she arrived she would sit on the same chair that had never left its spot beside the bed, and each time she would talk to Takuto as he stirred from his sleep into the same, empty stare she had to grow used to. She would talk about mundane topics, updates on his parent’s murder case, her life outside the hospital walls, and all Takuto would do, day in and day out was stare blankly while she talked.

She hated it. Hated out absent his eyes were. Hated his still, vacant expression as he stared into oblivion as if he himself was staring at the inner workings of the universe. He was alive, as much as his beating heart would correct anyone, but he wasn’t the man she loved; he wasn’t Takuto, just a living mockery of him as she rested her pale hand on his lap, trying to seek any comfort she could get out from this hideous state, yet knowing she was get nothing from him.

“I’m doing okay,” Rumi smiled desperately as she continued her one-sided conversation, a skill she mastered while watching over Takuto, “And Shibusawa is doing well. He’s up to… well… Shibusawa things, as usual,”

No response.

“And I was looking through some of your research notes as well,” Rumi said, unconsciously reaching for the bags under her eyes that were masked with concealer, “you were always talking about that ‘Cognitive Psience’ stuff to me, and while I still don’t quite understand it, everything you’ve gathered so far in the few years has been such an eye-opener, and possibly has recontextualised the entire science as a whole! You’ve really outdone yourself, Takuto,”

No response.

“They um… They also caught the culprits who took away your family. They’re in police custody right now,”

No response.

“I-”

“Rumi… f… amil...y,”

Rumi scrambled closer towards Takuto. Was she hallucinating?

“Takuto?”

She swore he spoke.

“F...ami-”

Takuto suddenly lurched forward from his sitting position, running his fingers through his brown hair and clutching tufts of it tightly as he squeezed his eyes tightly, as if in extreme pain.

“No!” he screamed before Rumi could act, thrashing his head side to side as he wailed. Rumi rushed next to him, almost getting hit as he struggled in the bed, Takuto paying no heed to his surroundings. It was almost as if he were back at the scene of the crime all those months ago, having seen the butchered corpses of his parents… Rumi swallowed sickly as she pushed the intercom, crying out for a nurse to help her subdue the flailing Takuto, “I can’t… this can’t be happening!”

“Takuto, Takuto it’s okay, it’s going to be okay!” Rumi pleaded to Takuto, trying to calm him down as she put a hand on his back, the best she could currently do as she desperately waited for a nurse to assist her in pacifying her traumatised lover.

“No! Mother, father! Why?! Why?” he wailed, clearly a world away from her, trapped in a never-ending nightmare where all that encompassed it was the dishevelled corpses of his parents and the sour, metallic smell of blood. Rumi could not help but pity him; it was as though he was a scared child, and the touches of comfort that she gave to him was all she could do as Takuto continued to beg for the Gods to return his family to him once more.

“...ou...want...”

The familiar migraine returned, Rumi clutching her hair in pain as the familiar sensation ripped once more. The headaches were becoming more frequent, the woman explaining them away as the result of the added stress of worrying about Takuto and her own responsibilities, having just finished getting her psychiatric degree after a gargantuan round of exams and sleepless nights. However, the intensity she felt at that moment was great; as if reality around her warped for a heartbeat. She uttered a curse under her breath. After calming Takuto down, she really needed to pick up some painkillers, she noted to herself.

The nurse came soon after and sedated Takuto, Rumi felt sickly as his thrashes became less and less energetic before he was medically lulled into sleep once again. The nurse gave a shy nod to Rumi before retreating out of the room as soon as he laid still on the bed, and Rumi was left on her own with Takuto’s sleeping form once again.

“Takuto,” she murmured once silence fell onto the room once again, approaching Takuto’s sleeping form to stroke his fluffy hair from his face. It was getting harder and harder to bear seeing him like this, a tear rolling down her face as she continued to tenderly curl the locks of his hair gently between her fingers. She wanted to free him, free him from the vicious cycle that was brought on by the memories of his trauma. Could he even recover from this? She wasn’t so sure, cases like this, where the patient was too far gone… Rumi doubts Takuto could be saved, it would take a miracle to-

“...seek...me...”

Another headache, Rumi squeezed her eyes in pain as it came and went, the same intensity as before; yet the voice. It was… calling to her? Rumi laughs at herself out of comfort more than humour. Great, she too is going mad.

“Rumi?”

Rui reacts to Takuto’s voice, his eyes still closed in an uneasy sleep.

“I’m..hurt...make...it stop...I want to…forget...”

“Forget?” she mumbles sadly, “Takuto, I don’t… I don’t know how to make you forget… But we’ll think of something, okay? We’ll-”

She remembers something from Takuto’s notes.

“By altering a subject’s cognition- by changing their heart-” Rumi recalled out loud, “any related trauma is eliminated.”

“You must seek me!”

“So, if I’m able to… if I’m able to change Takuto’s heart, I should be able to remove his trauma, and anyone else’s! I can save them!” Rumi exclaims triumphantly, absorbed in her resolve to save Takuto, too concerned with saving the man in front of her to even acknowledge the strange voice that now echoed freely in her head.

“Seek me… I am that who manifests thought itself. I shall echo your blasphemous fury with reality so that we may together change the world… Now, call me forth!”

“I will,” Rumi cried desperately, “I will! Please, whoever you are, lend me your strength! Help me save the man I love! Let him live his life once again!”

Nothing happened, at first; and suddenly it was as if reality shook around her, warping incomprehensibly, until snapping back into the present. Rumi blinked, taken aback by the sudden sensation. What… what had happened? Did it, what it was, work?

Takuto wakes from his sleep.

“Takuto, Takuto!” Rumi gasps in surprise, almost choking her words as the familiar, kind glint she first fell in love with sparked in his eyes once more. It was too long for her to again feel joy once more, the last months a horrible, weighted slog of existence as the world dashed by her, Rumi once again able to allow herself some semblance as Takuto blinked curiously around his surroundings. It was a miracle. Azathoth had brought her Takuto back from his perpetual state of shock.

Yet it was too soon that she realised that her wish had come at a price, as Takuto looked upon her face with the same unfamiliar curiosity that he had when he’d woken up. He blinked at her and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Hello… Miss?” he asked, too cautiously for her liking, yet she rationalised to herself that he was too dazed and disoriented for him to recognise her properly, his mind playing catch up from weeks of absence.

“Takuto, it’s me,” Rumi said, her tone a plea for him to remember their shared love, gesturing to herself by pressing her hand onto her chest, “It’s me, it’s Rumi,”

“Rumi...” Takuto almost slurred her name out loud, rolling each syllable on his tongue, as if the name itself was foreign to him. His expression narrowed to one of concentration as his eyes drifted down onto his lap. Rumi inched forward in her seat, patiently waiting for him to remember her, yet her eager smile turned into a disappointed frown when he shook his head, “I’m sorry, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else,”

Rumi could physically feel her heart shatter.

“I’ve just had surgery,” he said, absentmindedly ignoring the slow disbelief and horror that crept onto Rumi’s pale face, “Cycling accident. I’m a clutz, so I get hurt pretty often, and unfortunately, I managed to somehow crash into a fence and broke a couple of bones. I lost my parents when I was quite young, and I lived with my grandparents before coming into the city for a University degree in Psychology. I’m actually finished with my recovery, so I’m happy that I’m finally going home today,”

Rumi looked at him with shock, her face paled, her hands shook as she balled them into fists.

“Takuto,” Rumi said, “Takuto… you… you’ve… I...”

Did… did that voice… do this? Rumi wasn’t sure, even if Takuto was in front of her, looking at her with the brown eyes she loves so, so much. Yet, there was no mistaking it, while Takuto did come out of his stupor, he… he forgot her. It was as if his entire history was rewritten. She…it didn’t matter… What mattered to her then was that Takuto was okay.

Takuto looked at her with concern, his eyes churning her stomach.

“Miss, are you alright?”

“I’m,” she swallowed her nervousness and disbelief, putting on a facade of happiness as she continued to address him, “I’m sorry, I must have had the wrong Takuto, I must have not looked where I was going,” she laughed as she stood up from his chair, giving him a nervous laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck, “I’m such a clutz as well haha, always having my head in the clouds!”

“Oh,” Takuto smiled, that innocent smile that tugged the strings. He was smiling but, what happened if he relapsed? She needed to go, but she didn’t want to look away, “Is he a friend?”

“Boy...friend,” Rumi answered forcefully as she choked back a sob, “He’s sick as well, and...”

“You should go to him,�� Takuto said as he flashed a smile, and Rumi wanted to cry right there, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,”

Rumi could only nod, her mouth left agape as she turned on her heel and opened the door behind her.

“One more thing,” Takuto said, and Rumi turned to face him, yet she was reluctant to meet his eyes, “I know this is forward of me to ask but, may we meet again? I’ve enjoyed our meeting and would love to get a coffee with you; platonically, of course,”

“I… I don’t think so,” Rumi almost heaves the words out of her throat, her fingers tapping on the ajar door, “I’m very busy right now, sorry. He died not long ago… I’m sorry,”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Takuto apologises, “But, it was nice to meet you. Please take care of yourself, and send my regards to his family,” he smiled melancholy at her, and she weakly smiled in turn, vomit rising from her throat. Spilling into the hallway she lethargically wandered towards the exit of the hospital, barely making eye contact with the various nurses and doctor she passed. The whole world around her felt it like it turned mute, colours that were once vibrant now dull.

She did not recall when she finally made it back to her apartment she once shared with Takuto, throwing herself onto her couch. She had no idea how much time passed, she lied there, staring at the blank ceiling above. It was sunset when she finally allowed herself to cry.

---

Rumi sat across the downtrodden girl, her hands resting on the clipboard that was placed on her lap as she waited for Sumire Yoshizawa to speak. Sunlight shone through the windows beside them, illuminating the bowl of sweets that sat on the round table, Rumi seeing Sumire’s gaze shifting between them and her feet as her face hid behind the bangs of her long, red hair.

Her sister had died in front of her, Rumi was informed by her grieving father as he ushered her into the room. An accident with a speeding car at the crossroads of Shibuya, where her sister had pushed her away from getting hit. It had caused Sumire to retreat into her shell, eyes empty, barely eating and drinking, and her father was desperate not to lose another child.

Rumi herself was aware as to why her father sought her out specifically to treat his near-catatonic daughter. After Takuto’s recovery - his change of heart - Rumi went on to use her powers to help people, to ease their trauma, practising her ability to shift the attitudes and personalities with the help of her newfound friend. Her reputation grew with each heart she changed, a rate of success never seen before for a fresh hire, but Rumi did not care.

Rumi shifted in her seat, uncrossing her legs as Sumire fixated on the table in front of her. Silence returned between them. Neither of them said a word.

“Hello, Sumire Yoshizawa,” Rumi started, breaking the tension between the both of them, yet the girl did not appear to shift her gaze, “It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Dr Tanaka, and I’ll be your counsellor,”

Sumire merely nodded in acknowledgement.

“Thank you for coming to see me today,” Rumi continued, trying to stir conversation out from the troubled teen before her, “I really appreciate it,”

“Thank you… for seeing me… in the first place,” Sumire spoke just above a whisper, her voice hesitant, still avoiding eye contact with Rumi, “Though I don’t quite know what to talk about…To be honestly, I only came here because my parents wanted me to be here...”

“It’s okay,” Rumi assured her, voice comforting as she settled her clipboard onto the table, “It’s hard to talk about what’s troubling you, I certainly don't expect for you to trust me with something so personal,”

Sumire did not respond.

“How about we just, chat?” Rumi offered, “Until your time’s up, of course,”

“...Chat?” Sumire mumbles.

“Yeah, about anything you’d like. It can be about anything, school, boys, any TV shows that are currently on… Oh! And I’ve got some snacks for us to share if you like! Plenty of snacks, so feel free to help yourself with them,”

Sumire stares at the bowl of sweet in front of her.

“Do you like to cook?” Rumi piqued up, “I do, a lot. It usually takes my mind off things after a long day of work. The other day I saw a great deal on some apples, and they looked amazing too! So, I bought some to make an apple dish, just to mix it up you know?”

Sumire did not respond.

“But, the result was… not that good,” Rumi laughs awkwardly, continuing her tale, yet her eye flickered observantly towards Sumire, “Tried some other sweet and savoury combinations in the form of some European dishes, but those didn’t turn out so great as well...”

“Apples do make for good ingredients,” Sumire replied, and Rumi snapped to attention as the girl in front of her talked, “If you grate them, you can make a surprisingly versatile sauce. I use the fruit in plenty of my dishes when I can. It’s pretty nutritious and good for digestion.”

“You cook as well, Yoshizawa-san?” Rumi inquired, relieved that she was able to get the girl to talk, “And I’m impressed that you care a lot about nutrition at your age. Most teenagers seem to be eating a lot of junk food and pre-processed meals everywhere I look… not that I blame them, of course,”

“It’s fine,” Sumire sighed, “I’m a gymnast. My coach has told me more than once to be conscious of everything I eat,”

“How amazing,” Rumi praised her, yet Sumire’s expression did not change, “You must be really dedicated with practice. How is it going for you lately?”

Sumire winced at the mention of her practise.

“It… has been rough lately,” Sumire admits, something Rumi couldn’t blame her for. Grief was something hard and heavy; to see a loved one perish right before your eyes. Rumi knew how it felt, “It’s nothing I can’t handle, but...”

Sumire takes a minute for herself.

“It’s not going well,” she said, her voice forceful as if coughing out her admittance, “I… I don’t even know what I want to do anymore,”

“I’m… I’m sorry to hear that, Sumire,” Rumi apologises to Sumire, her eyebrows knitted together with a sympathetic expression, “Do you still enjoy gymnastics?”

“I’m… I’m not even sure of that. My older sister… Kasumi… and I made a promise… We’d both compete and win the biggest gymnastics awards in the world… But...”

She again looked away from Rumi.

“She… passed away...” she swallowed, “She… protected me from a car...”

The incident. Rumi was aware, yet it was utterly heart-breaking to see the tears welling from Sumire’s eyes, her wide eyes. Her terrible, wide eyes as she leaned forward, now hiding her face from Rumi.

“I can’t, I can’t do it anymore, I can’t do this anymore, I can’t go on like this,” Sumire started to sob. The way her voice wailed, the tears down her framed eyes… Rumi gripped the frills of her lab coat... It was like Takuto all over again, “If Kasumi were here instead, I know she’d make her dream come true, only Kasumi could have done it, no matter how long I try to compete, it’s not going to change anything, it’s not going to...”

Sumire took a deep breath, hastily wiping the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, unconsciously tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Please don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong, Sumire,” Rumi assured her, wanting to put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Sometimes we just need to vent about our feelings, it’s perfectly natural to want to relieve bottled emotions; especially when dealing with a loss of a lost one,”

“Yeah,” Sumire mumbled, “It’s just… I can’t really deal with anything anymore. I can’t just go on, living like this. I’ve been feeling like this for a long time; everything I do, even when Kasumi was still...”

She chokes another sob.

“If Kasumi were here instead, I know she’d make her dream come true… Only Kasumi could achieve it. No matter how long I try to compete, it’s not going to change anything,”

Sumire looks at Rumi.

“I’m sorry,” she apologises again.

“It’s alright,” Rumi smiles comfortingly at her, “I don’t judge, and I’m glad that you’re able to at least confide with me what’s troubling you,”

Sumire looks down again.

“It’s just...” she starts, her gaze wandering, her voice trailing, “I…. I sometimes can’t help but think that… things would’ve been better if I was my sister… if I was Kasumi Yoshizawa… After all, just wishing to make her dream come true does nothing for her in real life... considering she’s...”

“You want to make her sister’s dream come true, huh?” Rumi muttered to herself in thought. Maybe…

She turned to smile at Sumire.

“I can see where you’re coming from, Yoshizawa,” Rumi said as she leaned back in her chair, “And really? Wanting to become someone else isn’t an entirely bad thing,”

“You… you think so?” Sumire asked with a confused expression.

“Of course! Everyone has the ability to change themselves - the only limit is your imagination! By imitating the actions of another person - asking yourself ‘what would this person do’ in a given situation - helps you better emulate them! Thought exercises that utilise this can lead to people eventually becoming like the target person themselves,”

Rumi leans closer to Sumire.

“Can you still imagine what your sister was like?”

“Yes...” Sumire said.

“Well, if your sister were in your shoes, what do you think she’d do?”

“Well, she wouldn’t cry,” Sumire started as she shook her head, “and if she had to, she’d just practice more instead...”

Sumire’s voice drifted into silence.

“Dr Tanaka...” her voice wavered, “I want… I want to become Kasumi,”

“I know, Sumire. And I’m sure you can, too! You just have to believe in yourself,”

Rumi could feel Azathoth in her heart. Her… friend… stirred. Sumire closed her eyes, reality flashed before her eyes, the familiar twisting and warping feeling around her subsided as fast as it came.

Kasumi’s eyes suddenly fluttered open. The light that flickered in them complimented her smile. She seemed happier; much happier.

“Are you feeling any better?” Rumi asks the girl, yet she felt that she knew the answer as Kasumi nodded happily.

“Yes!” Kasumi exclaimed, “I feel like a weight’s been lifted off of me!”

Rumi smiled.

“You’re amazing, Doctor!”

“I’m happy to help,” Rumi smiled, watching as Kasumi reached for her bag, “It seemed like my counselling approach did some good,”

Kasumi zipped opened her bag, reaching for something inside of it. She took out a ribbon and scooped some of her red hair, before tying it into a ponytail. She took off her glasses. And smiled at Rumi.

“Thank you again, Dr Tanaka. I’m not sure how to put it, but… I feel like I’ve been reborn all over again,”

“I’m glad to hear it, Yoshizawa!” Rumi said, “Now if you need anything else, or something else comes up, please don’t hesitate to come into my office, okay? We can just even have a chat, like today! And please feel free to have some snacks,”

“Thank you, Dr Tanaka. I would like to actually pick up from where we left off, talking about-”

Kasumi’s eyes suddenly widened in shock.

“Is something the matter?” Rumi inquired worryingly.

“It’s just that… now that I think about it… I’m not any good at cooking!” Kasumi laughed, “I don’t know why I said those things earlier. My younger sister’s the one who was really great at it,”

Rumi’s smile grew wider, admiring the work she’d done in front of her.

---

Rumi settled into the small sofa that sat in front of a small coffee table, pulling her lab coat inwards, the pendant that Takuto had given her clung proudly around her neck. She had to get used to the sharp smell of disinfectant that permeated throughout the relatively small room, her eyes scanning the various labels of bottles that were locked in the cabinet beside her. She had tried to make the room more comforting; her favourite sweets, one of the only things she had left of Takuto, sat on top of the table before her. The stark, buzzing lights above reflected against the multicoloured plastic, Rumi unconsciously reaching for them, before she motioned a delicate hand to the piping hot tea in front of her instead.

Shujin Academy. The school had purposely reached out for her as she left her old position, wanting to broaden her horizons and helped more people, especially the current youth of today. Her meeting with Sumire - now Kasumi - had opened her eyes on the mental health needs of the teenagers that inhabited the city; how oppressive the curriculum had become, and how many teenagers were drowning in their own depression and grief, most reaching the point of no return until they never realised it until they were suddenly teetering at the edge of a building.

Shiho Suzui, the catalyst of her prompt interview and hiring, the girl who had sent the school’s administration scrambling to find a counsellor, resulting in her immediate interview and hiring.

It was evident that the school only hired her to save their reputation, having heard about the abuse the volleyball team had to endure under the hands of an ex-Olympian Volleyball Coach, Suguru Kamoshida. Though she wasn’t aware of it back then, only hearing whispers about how a poor girl threw herself off the school roof intending to die, the revelation made her gag. How could abuses so severe be brushed under the rug?

The truth wasn’t the only thing that spurred her to take the job, rumours had been circulating about a vigilante group that slinked around the school that travelled among students as she wandered the halls towards her new office, a group only known as the Phantom Thieves. They had targeted Kamoshida if the rumours were to be believed; the ones who stole something from him… a ‘treasure’... one to enact a ‘change of heart’. She almost wished she was there to see the aftermath, as students regularly commented on how the man was reduced to a wailing, sobbing mess in front of the school, begging for forgiveness, wanting to end his life there and then. It was a sort of poetic justice when one of his victims, Ann Takamaki, called him out for being the coward he was.

But she didn’t trust them. Yes, they had enacted justice for those who needed it, but who’s to say that it was merely a facade to placate the public? To trick them into letting their guard down, before enacting crimes? Rumi did not trust this facade of vigilante justice, the word ‘thief’ alone soured her perspective towards them. Thieves, that work to bring the law unto the lawless? An oxymoron, their true intentions as murky as their identities.

Though she had her suspicions. On coming out from her interview, clambering down the steps she saw a sight that left her startled; three teenagers, students from the school appearing out of thin air, all huddled together around a phone in an alleyway. She managed to walk away before they saw her, the woman dazed and confused, and ever since witnessing such an event she pondered to herself: did those kids have the same powers she did?

She shook her head. It didn’t matter; what mattered to her the most was her need to save them from misery, to save them from pain and cruelty, and to ensure that crime on a wider scale was eradicated from the World. No one should suffer the same fate she did, the same grief Takuto and Sumire had to endure. She had Azathoth, had the power to change reality, and she had few scraps of Takuto’s notes hidden away, to be developed upon, to be used to achieve her own goal.

Rumi looked down at her clipboard. There were students she was told by the Principle himself to look out for, mostly ones that suffered under the hands of Kamoshida. There were three kids that stood out to her; they were the same ones that appeared spontaneously into existence that day in the alleyway in front of the school. The first one: an ex-track member named Ryuji Sakamoto; his dyed blond hair evident in the semi faded picture she had of him. The second one: Ann Takamaki; a victim of Kamoshida’s abuse and a friend of Shiho Suzui, the girl who jumped off the roof (and Rumi felt sympathetic towards her). And the third one: a transfer student currently on probation, Ren Amamiya; the delinquent.

Her gaze lingered at Amamiya’s portrait. His hair curled wildly upon his head, grey eyes staring at her behind thick-framed glasses. A delinquent… she would have to keep a close eye on him, she can’t allow him to spiral into a life of crime, she can’t allow him to become a criminal, like those thieves, those thieves turned murderers, who killed Takuto’s parents, who killed her Takuto…

Hearing the room’s door open snapped Rumi back into attention. She looked up to see sheepish grey eyes stare back at her. It was as if looking at Amamiya’s portrait had summoned him, the boy blinked sheepishly behind the door, his head poking out, wild hair sticking out in all directions.

“Excuse me,” he inquired politely, “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all,” Rumi exclaimed, gesturing towards the seat in front of him, “Come on in!”

Her plan was in motion. Amamiya sat in front of her, ready to talk, Azathoth stirred in her head, power sparked at the end of her fingertips. Her new project, Amamiya, was the final push she would need before she had the confidence to spread her power towards all of reality. To fix the heart of a delinquent child, meant that she could save him. She could save all the troubled youths of the world and beyond.

Whether they knew it or not, she was going to save them.

She was going to save them all.

#persona #persona 5 #rumi #takuto maruki #dan's log #txt #mywriting #myfanfic

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misskikuwrites · 4 years

Text

Into the Wild (1/8)

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

Gloria sauntered into Ballonlea's Gym as if she owned the place, smiling to the Gym Trainers with a quick wave before walking over to Bede. He studied her curiously, taking a moment to quieten the thrum of his heart as she approached. He could feel the knowing eyes of the staff on him. His body prickled irritably and he swallowed a sharp bark at them to mind their own business as he greeted Gloria.

"So, what is it this time?" Bede asked, forcing himself to sound indifferent. The pittering of his heart was difficult to ignore, the way his heart, his blood, came alive in her presence.

She diffidently struggled to meet his eyes, the hesitation in her eyes making his stomach, his heart, flutter wildly.

"Do you have a moment?" she asked softly. "Can I… talk to you outside?" She finally looked at him, an uncertainty in her voice, in her warm brown eyes, making his breath catch in a tight, nervous hitch. His mind spun for a moment before he remembered to answer.

"Sure, I was about to take a break anyway."

A thrill of heat rushed up his neck and settled on his cheeks at the ambiguity in her words, Bede's mind launching to sudden conclusions that made his heart fluster. The timid way she nodded, looked away from him and led the way out of the Gym sent a tingle of heat through his veins. It was as if her nervous behaviour was contagious. Infecting him and making it difficult to breathe, to meet her eyes.

She was so nervous for some reason, meek and bashful, and the striking difference to her normal demeanor made it difficult for Bede not to jump to conclusions. He tried desperately not to focus on the soft blush on her cheeks as he followed her from the Gym. On the way she walked faster than normal, always keeping a few quick steps ahead. On the apprehension in her eyes when she glanced at him.

Bede's heart stuttered. His lungs felt strangely tight. The air was thicker than normal, a sticky blanket of air wrapped around him and making him feel warmer, stuffier than usual. He desperately wanted to wipe the sweat off his palms. Wanted to swallow the clammy feeling in his throat away.

Gloria stopped at the edge of the Glimwood Tangle, a fragile silence descending around them. She turned to face Bede, raising her eyes hesitantly to meet his. She gnawed absently, nervously, on her bottom lip.

Bede needed something, anything, to break the suffocating silence. "So… what did you want to speak to me about?" he asked. His voice came out strained and tense. Stiff and forced.

Her eyes shifted away. "Well, it's… a bit complicated, actually."

Every second that passed made Bede's heart pound harder, faster, louder in his chest.

"Try me."

She twirled her fingers together, fiddling as she spoke. "I… kinda need to ask you a favour…"

"And? You've asked me to do innumerable favours for you before."

What was different about this one that made her so nervous? The spinning cogs in Bede's mind whirled francticly to make sense of all of this.

Gloria pursed her lips. "It's a big favour."

"Exactly what kind of favour is it?" The nerves were finally settling, Bede raising a suspicious eyebrow at her. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"So… you know how we're in between League Challenges…?" she began slowly, twiddling her fingers sheepishly, "and we're preparing for the next one at the moment…?"

Bede took a deep breath to clear the remaining nerves from his lungs. "What is it? Are you going to reach something resembling a point anytime soon?"

"I need your help, Bede!" Gloria huffed, scowling embarrassingly at him. "That's what! It's the Champion's job to go through the Wild Area between seasons and deal with any issues with wild Pokemon or the terrain and I... was going to ask if you would come with me…" The fire in her voice petered out, she dropped her gaze away.

"You… need my help?" A self-satisfied bubble of pride bloomed in his chest. His lips pulled up into a smug grin. "The Champion is asking for my help?"

"Yes!" Gloria pouted, a frustrated blush colouring her cheeks. "Please, don't tease me about this. You're the only one I could ask..."

Arceus, his heart swelled with warm pride. He fought to keep the giddy smile on his face from expanding.

"Well, if you say it like that, I suppose I could find it in me to help you."

"Really?" She blinked earnestly at him, her eyes wide and pleading. She leant forward on her toes, hands clasped in front of her chest.

Bede's breath caught and he turned his face away at how close she was, so suddenly, and cursed the rising heat on his cheeks. "Y-Yes, that's what I said. I'll help you."

Gloria sank back on her heels and pumped her fists happily. "Yes! Oh, thank you, Bede!"

Before he could register what was happening, Gloria embraced him in a quick hug. His mouth dropped open in a strangled gasp, his body freezing rigid and taught as her silky hair tickled the side of his face and neck. He breathed in a gasp of peach and vanilla. Her scent. It was gone as quickly as she'd hugged him, her warmth suddenly and desperately missed as Bede sagged as if his spine had melted.

"I was so worried you wouldn't agree and I'd have to spend a week in the Wild Area by myself," Gloria rambled, relieved and excited.

"Hold on - it's going to take a week?" Bede's heart dropped into his stomach. A cold wave of dread, of sinking trepidation, washed over him.

A full week.

In the Wild Area.

Alone with Gloria.

"Um… yes." Gloria smiled sheepishly at him. "That's why it's a rather big favour…" Her smile lessened fractionally, a bead of worry in her eyes. "Are you… still going to help me?"

Bede exhaled a deep sigh, wondering what, exactly, he had gotten himself into. "I said I'd help you, so I will. I'm not going to go back on my word."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Gloria cheered sweetly. "I won't forget this, ever!"

Her smile was too dazzling, too bright. Bede couldn't look at it without succumbing to a rush of heat. His cheeks burned under the effects of her smile.

"Well, before you get too excited, we need to figure out the details of this trip," Bede said, scrambling for something to focus his mind on, something to bring him down to earth as his heart threatened to soar away. "How long do you expect this to take? Have you planned out where you're going to start, at least?"

Gloria grinned proudly. "I have, actually! I asked Leon for some estimates based on his experience and it should take no more than a week; three or four days to deal with the Southern Wild Area, about the same for the North. We can stop in Motostoke in between."

Bede nodded slowly, surprised that she's actually thought ahead about this. She was usually more impulsive, more I'll-deal-with-that-when-I-get-to-it kind of thinking.

"I was planning to leave next Saturday. We could meet in the Meet-up Spot at around eight in the morning?"

"We'll meet at your place. I'll want to check all our gear before we head off. You have a track record for being a bit too optimistic at times."

Gloria rolled her eyes. "I've camped in the Wild Area before. I know what to expect."

"And yet you seem to think that you can route the whole Wild Area in a week."

Gloria sent him a challenged pout. "You don't think I can? Leon could do it, and I beat him!"

"In a battle, yes. But you seem to forget that Leon had been Champion for many years. For him, a week is fine. For you…?" he raised a pointed eyebrow. "Maybe a week and a half, minimum. Remember, Leon had his Charizard. From what I've gathered, you plan to hike the whole journey."

Gloria nodded slowly as the truth of Bede's words sank in. "Okay, we'll meet at my place, then. Oh! We can take the train from Wedgehurst! It'll be like we're starting our journey again!"

She gasped so excitedly that Bede couldn't bring himself to argue and remind her that taking a sky taxi would be quicker.

"I'll have to change up my team a little if we're going to deal with a range of Pokemon," Bede commented, his mind continuously thinking. "Might be worth it to catch any strong Pokemon we come across."

Gloria bit back an enthusiastic squeal, bouncing on her toes with a bright smile. "Oh, I'm so excited! I've already sent my tent in to get patched and I've stocked up on a ton of Ultra Balls."

"Potions and food too, I should hope."

She rolled her eyes. "That's next on my list."

"You have a list?" Bede said, sounding impressed with a teasing smirk.

"Of course! Although, I'd still like to drop into Motostoke after three or four days. We can deal with the rest of the Southern Wild Area after that before moving north."

Bede nodded as their plan slowly came into place. It actually seemed feasible.

"Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Bede raised an eyebrow. "Then why did you have to drag me all the way out here to do so?"

Her nervous demeanor and the way she'd ask to speak outside had given him a completely wrong impression on what she'd wanted to talk about.

Gloria looked away. "Well… I was a bit… embarrassed about it."

"Embarrassed to ask me for help?"

"Embarrassed that I had to ask for help at all. And, as much as I like everyone at your Gym, they can be a bit…"

"Nosy?"

"I was going to say curious."

"They eavesdrop, Gloria. That's nosy."

Her lips twitched into a smile. "I'm glad you agreed to come with me. Hop's busy studying and helping Sonia, and Marnie's got other commitments. I was afraid I'd have to do it all by myself."

"You've camped in the Wild Area by yourself before," Bede pointed out. "You traveled solo during the Cup too."

"I know," she sighed sheepishly. "But it's so much more fun to do it with someone else."

There were many things Bede could have said then. He could've chided her that it sounded like she just didn't want to be lonely, or reminded her that they weren't doing it for fun. But the smile on her face was too dazzling for Bede to risk dampening it with a callous remark.

"Anyway, I should head off," she said. "I'll text you if anything changes, but if it doesn't, then I'll see you on Saturday!"

Bede's breath caught unconsciously. "Y-Yeah. That sounds good." A reflexive heat had begun to pool on his cheeks as his body braced for what would happen next.

Gloria then raised up on her toes, hugging him briefly, too quickly, and stepped back.

"Wait-!" Bede snatched her wrist as she went to turn away. His heart lodged high in his throat as her eyes widened. As confusion, a question, filled her eyes.

"Bede?"

The gentle way she said his name made it impossibly difficult to speak. He swallowed painfully.

"Didn't you say, before, that hugs are usually reciprocated?" Bede said. He forced the words out, his brow furrowing slightly with the effort. "You can't just hug me like that without allowing me to… reciprocate."

Her lips parted slightly. "Oh. Sorry."

Bede stole his hand back, releasing her wrist. His skin tingled where they'd touched.

Gloria hugged her arms close to her body. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable, that's all. I… tend to go a bit overboard with hugs sometimes." She laughed lightly then, but a trickle of pain filtered through her sheepishness. "I'm not good at reading people's reactions to my hugs, or at all, really."

"I wouldn't have let you hug me in the first place if I was uncomfortable about it," Bede said.

She pursed her lips into a faint smile, but it faded quickly. "I know, but… I've annoyed people in the past by being too huggy. All the other kids in Postwick avoided me because of it, because I'd get too excited and hug someone. Hop was the only one who'd hug me back." She shrugged absently. "I guess I just don't want to… lose another friend because of it."

"Sounds like you're better off without them," Bede huffed.

"Maybe." Another shrug. "Just… let me know if I start annoying you or anything, okay? I'm really not good at those kinds of things."

"You're not annoying."

She looked at him now, her heart open and vulnerable and rough with scars. Isolation and hurt that Bede recognised and ached in response. Wounds inflicted years ago, slow to heal, never fully fading. A memory etched into flesh.

"You're impulsive and excitable, overly affectionate at times and incredulously optimistic too, but not annoying." A swath of heat spread across Bede's cheeks as he spoke. As her eyes widened, as light returned to her face. "Even if you were, I wouldn't say that because that's you. I see nothing wrong with you being the way you are."

Silence fell for a tense, deafening moment before Gloria sucked in a deep gasp.

"Aw, Bede! That's so sweet!" she chimed, bouncing quickly on her toes, positively vibrating with glee. "I have to hug you now, okay?"

She bounced on the spot for another second before Bede realised she was waiting for his permission. He nodded stiffly, his breath held tight in his lungs, and she launched herself at him with a warm hug. She shifted up and down on her toes, nuzzling into him with a happy squeal. Her hug was calming and gentle, yet firm enough for Bede to feel her body heat bleed into him, solid and soft at the same time. He managed to scramble his brain for enough cognitive functions to reciprocate her embrace, gently wrapping his arms around her back. She quietened against him. Her movements stilled and she softened in his arms, steady and silent. He felt her sigh against him, a tranquil and listless breath of air sounding in his ear.

"Mm…" she hummed and Bede felt that vibration, that quiet sound, throughout his entire body. "Your hugs are nice."

Bede blinked in stupor. His face was alight with a fierce blush, his lungs struggling for air in a mix of elation and panic. "Wh-What?"

"I feel like I could fall asleep like this…"

"Well, don't! I'm not a bed!"

She laughed, pulling out of the hug with a breathless giggle. Her eyes sparkled with dazzling mirth. "Thanks, Bede. I needed a hug just like that. Now I feel rejuvenated! Time to go shopping for more supplies!"

"Just remember that you'll have to carry everything you take. Don't expect me to lug around any junk you bring."

Gloria breathed a puff of laughter. "I know! Oh, I'm so excited now! I'll see you on Saturday, Bede!" She skipped around him, turning to give him a wave before dashing off.

Bede shook his head to himself, a small, amused smile on his face. She was completely ridiculous. A whirlwind of hugs and laughter, a crackling storm of frightening strength beneath a sunshower of bright, dazzling smiles. Even now, after all this time, she managed to surprise him.

The week ahead would certainly be very interesting indeed.

The days leading up to the start of their trip passed impossibly slow. Bede had obtained everything he needed for the journey the day after Gloria had asked him; a new tent (he hadn't kept the one he'd used during the Cup), a durable and sturdy backpack, a sleeping bag rated for the lowest temperatures they'd expect to encounter, and enough packaged food and potions to last over a week. He'd had the foresight to pack a decent first-aid kit, knowing fully well what Gloria was like at times. They'd be lucky to reach Motostoke without an incident or two.

The consequence of being prepared so early meant that the last few days of waiting felt agonisingly slow. The only bearable aspect to it was Gloria's excited texts, becoming full of emojis and almost indecipherable as the week progressed. She sent pictures of her gear, her pink tent now with a solid patch over the hole on the roof, the ingredients she'd stocked up on for making curry.

The night before they were scheduled to leave, Gloria sent a picture of a mound of sandwiches, texting that she had their lunch sorted - for them and their Pokemon. Bede couldn't help but smile, amused at the satisfied grin on Gloria's face in the photo, a smudge of sauce on her cheek as she posed in front of the sandwiches. Her Cinderace eyed the food in the background hungrily. A light chuckle left Bede's lips at the sight. He sent her a quick text in reply, warning her not to let Cinderace eat it all before they'd even left. He then sent another, pointing out the streak of sauce on her cheek. Her string of embarrassed emojis and exclamation marks, a barrage of texts one after another, made Bede laugh to himself. He lay back on his bed, eyes closing as he smiled. His phone buzzed in his hand, more texts from Gloria explaining that she didn't normally end up with sauce on her face after cooking. A warm bubble of amusement burst in Bede's chest. Texting Gloria was free entertainment.

Bede rolled onto his side, texting Gloria back that he wasn't so sure if he should believe her excuse, with the way she always ended up with crumbs on her face after eating. Despite the late hour, the early start they had the next day, he found he had little desire to end their conversation. The hours passed like minutes, an endless chain of texts between them filling the time. Hers sprinkled with an array of emojis, of hearts and exclamation points, as energetic as the real thing. Bede kept his short and succinct, skipping any sense of grammar or punctuation for ease. He'd thought, once or twice, about sending an emoji in reply. Entertained the idea long enough for it to flutter his heart strangely, to think that he'd adapt part of her texting style into his. He'd decided against it, in the end.

Their conversation ended abruptly, Bede's text staring blankly at him without a reply, and he realised that she must have fallen asleep. It was almost midnight, and with their train tickets for eight in the morning, they had planned to meet earlier, at her place, at half-past seven. Bede stared at the ceiling above him, a distracting thrum of anticipation in his chest. A bundle of excited nerves humming, buzzing together between his ribs. A swirl of anxious energy pumped through his veins with every beat of his heart, deafening and dizzying.

He was too excited to sleep.

At seven-thirty on the dot, Bede strode up to the front door of Gloria's house, dumping the heavy pack off his shoulders as he rang the doorbell. Budew cooed from the garden, soaking up the dawn. The air was cool and fresh, tinged with the scent of hay and flowers. From inside, Bede heard footsteps, a muffled voice. Wooloo and Dubwool called in the distance farms behind the house.

Bede straightened as the door opened, Gloria's mother welcoming him in with a bright, homely smile. He thanked her curtly, collecting his bag and entering with a bashful nod. His heart clenched tight in his chest, suddenly and frighteningly nervous in front of Gloria's mother. A Munchlax sat in the living room, barely paying Bede any notice save for a long, heavy yawn. In the entrance to the living room, Bede recognised the bag Gloria planned to take from pictures she'd sent him.

"She'll be out soon," Gloria's mother said. "I'd only gotten her out of bed a few moments ago." She laughed lightly. "Said she was up late last night packing."

And texting me, Bede thought as a trickle of heat curled on his cheeks. Gloria's mother didn't seem to mind the prospect of them camping together. Despite only meeting Bede a couple of times, she seemed to trust him. Liked him, even. He felt small, felt too exposed under her smile, almost wondering if she could hear the rapid pounding of his heart in his chest. Every movement he made, every word, every breath, was careful and forced into perfection. Afraid to stuff up, to fumble anything, in front of the mother of the woman he loved.

Arceus. He desperately hoped she couldn't see the blush forming on his cheeks.

"Bede! Sorry, I'm almost ready!" Gloria called, the door to her room swinging open. She stumbled out, hopping as she tried to stuff her foot in her shoe. She swept the lunch boxes off the counter, stealing a sandwich off a nearby plate in the process and holding it between her teeth, and unceremoniously shoved their lunches into her bag. In the process, she finally slipped her foot into her shoe with a tug on the heel. She stomped her heel on the floor once, then twice, then nodded satisfactorily. She drew her long hair up with practiced grace, tying it up into a neat ponytail. She stole the cap resting against her bag and placed it on her head, turning to Bede with a grin. His eyes drew to the pink Fairy Gym logo on her black cap. She still had it.

Of course she did. It was pink.

"There! Now I'm all ready to go!" Gloria beamed, taking the sandwich from between her teeth and nibbling on it.

Bede stared, torn between being impressed or concerned about that rushed performance of hers.

"Take care, you two!" Gloria's mother said. "You watch out for each other, now!"

"We will!" Gloria replied happily, scooping her bag off the floor as she munched on her sandwich. "We all good to go, or did you want to check my gear, still?"

"Unless you've decided to drastically change it since you sent me those pictures, it's fine." Bede nodded to Gloria's mother appreciatively. "We'll be off, then."

Gloria skipped around him, surprisingly nimble with the bulky bag on her shoulders. "Lets go, let's go!" She swung open the door, and Bede hurried after with long striders, saying a quick farewell to her mother.

"If you keep going like that, you'll be exhausted before we reach Wedgehurst," Bede chided.

Gloria rolled her eyes dramatically, spinning a wide circle as she walked to make sure Bede saw, but slowed to a normal pace. "It's called being excited. You should try it sometime."

"And here I thought it was about the journey, not the destination."

"Our journey starts in the Wild Area, and we're not there yet."

"It won't be much of a journey if you wear yourself out before we get there."

Gloria scoffed but settled into a gentle pace beside Bede, still smiling. The dirt path crunched beneath their feet, the sounds of happy Wooloo and Dubwool filling the air, as they walked the short distance between Postwick and Wedgehurst. Each step Gloria took had an excited bounce to it. Her ponytail swished back and forth like the tail of a trotting Mudbray and Bede bit back a smirk at that thought.

"It's nice to see you in that jacket again," Gloria commented, smiling at his large magenta coat. "Feels like it's been ages since I've seen you wear it."

Bede shrugged, ignoring how warm he felt under her gaze. "I didn't put that much thought into wearing it, if you must know. It just happens to be the thickest jacket I own, and the Wild Area has unpredictable weather."

"I know." She smiled at him, the corner of her eyes crinkling. "But I've always liked it."

A fuzzy bead of warmth lodged in Bede's chest. He had to force himself to remember that she was talking about his jacket, and not him. He absently hitched the collar higher. He studied her out of the corner of his eyes, taking in the way her skin seemed to shine in the morning light, the bright streaks of gold in her brown hair, the speckles of honey in her eyes. She wore less pink than usual, settling on darker, muted colours for their trip. Dark blue denim shorts frayed at her mid-thigh, a thick jacket keeping off the morning chill. She wore her usual black boots but had changed her backpack out for a larger, tattered brown one.

Her fringe blew gently in the breeze around her face, and Bede caught a glimmer of silver on her earlobe.

"You pierced your ears," he noted, almost freezing on the spot when he realised he'd said that aloud and not in his head.

Gloria dimpled, reaching up to twiddle the small silver loop. "I got them done a few weeks ago. I thought it'd make me look a bit more mature, now that I'm Champion."

The earrings sparkled in the light and Bede swallowed his comment that she looked plenty mature regardless, unwilling to let that sliver of honesty out just yet. Over the many months they'd known each other, Gloria had already matured. The light in her eyes was less innocent and naive, becoming more steadfast and determined. She walked with confident strides, shyed less around strangers. She spoke her mind with more confidence, trusted herself - and her Pokemon - in her battles and her life.

She'd grown her long brown hair out from the messy bob she'd had during their Challenge, letting it fall past her shoulders. The only part of her that hadn't changed at all was her height. Bede had been half a head taller than her when they'd first met and now he could easily rest his chin on top of her head if he wished.

She'd probably make the most adorable and amusing squawk if he did.

They chatted aimlessly on the way to Wedgehurst, the sun rising slowly, sitting at a low angle when they finally arrived at the station. The late autumn air was brisk and sharp, and Bede shoved his hands into his pockets. He eyed Gloria's bare legs incredulously, wondering how she wasn't feeling the cold. They sat on a bench just outside the station, basking in the sunlight as they waited for the train to arrive. Gloria stretched out lazily, slumping at an angle that couldn't be comfortable for her neck. Her feet tapped absently.

Bede opened his mouth to speak when two young women approached. Their eyes sparkled excitedly.

"Are you Gym Leader Bede?" one of them asked. She had thick, unruly hair tied into pigtails, giving him a wide, eager smile.

Bede straightened into a more respectable posture, wiping the disinterest from his face and managing a smile. "Yes, that's correct."

They both squealed in glee. The other girl, with dusty blonde hair chopped short, clung to her friend's sleeve. "Is it true that you give autographs now? Can you sign our League Cards?" She thrust out a copy of Bede's Rare League Card towards him, a black marker sitting on top. Her friend did the same.

Bede took the cards, and the marker, and gave them a refreshing smile. "Of course," he said, swallowing the bile rising up his throat at how sugary he sounded. He capped off the pen, neatly signing the two cards before handing them back.

"I can't believe we ran into you in Wedgehurst!" the pigtailed girl exclaimed. "We are so lucky!"

"I know!" the blonde echoed. "Oh, can I ask you a few questions? Is that alright?"

Bede managed to maintain his smile. "Sure. Go right ahead."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Gloria shove her hat further down over her face. Her arms folded stiffly across her chest.

"I heard that you're going to take over Ballonlea's theatre as well! Is that true?" the blonde asked. "Are you going to perform too? Or just direct the plays?"

"Oh, yes! I've heard there's going to be a production of Romeo and Juliet - are you going to play Romeo? Who's going to star in it? Do you need any more actresses? We could totally play a part!"

Bede blanched slightly, recovering quickly from their onslaught of questions. "Ms Opal doesn't have any plans to retire from the theatre at the moment," he said calmly despite his growing irritation.

"Are you dating the Champion?" the pigtailed girl asked, making Bede's heart catch painfully in his throat. "Everyone says you've got a thing for her!"

"Is it true she rejected you? You confessed to her during the finals, right? Does that mean you're still single?"

Gloria scoffed harshly, silencing the rapid fire question from the two girls. They turned to face her, biting irritation twisting their smiles into scowls. Bede blinked in shock.

"What kind of questions are those?" she huffed, straightening so she sat upright again. The cap hung low on her head, casting a shadow over her eyes. "That's none of your business."

"No one asked you," the blonde spat.

"Ignore her," the other girl said. "Just look at her, wearing the Fairy Gym hat. What a total wannabe. Obsessed enough to think she'll get his attention by dressing in his merch, Arceus!" She laughed, her friend joining in to cackle at Gloria.

Something dark flashed in Gloria's eyes. A trepid tingle shot down Bede's spine. He knew that look all too well, knew what it meant. He stiffened where he sat, deciding that he wasn't going to get involved with this, not when Gloria had clearly decided to fight back.

Gloria's laughter silenced the two younger girls. She tossed a Pokeball in her hand, spinning it with each throw. "How about this - you two beat me in a battle, and I'll clear off. I win, you get the fuck out of here."

Bede stifled a choked gasp. He'd never heard Gloria swear like that before, never more than a whispered curse beneath her breath, and definitely not burning with acidic vitriol like that.

"As if," the blonde laughed. "We don't have to battle you."

"Two-on-one," Gloria said. "Both of you against my Cinderace. One Pokemon each."

The girls exchanged glances, overconfident grins building on their faces before they laughed.

"Oh, you're on!" the pigtailed girl said. They hadn't noticed the dangerous flash in Gloria's eyes. The cutting edge to her sharp smile.

A cold shiver trickled down Bede's spine. His heart skittered warmly in his chest, making him suddenly breathless.

Gloria drew off the bench smoothly, standing tall despite her meager height, and tossed her Pokeball. Cinderace appeared from the wash of light, bouncing on his toes.

"All right, Cinderace. Let's show them what we've got," Gloria said. She nodded to Cinderace pointedly, her Pokemon catching the hidden meaning to the blaze in her eyes with a quick trill in response.

Cinderace. She'd said Cinderace, not Fyrian. Deliberately chose not to use the nickname that would label her as the Champion.

Bede's blood thrummed in his veins. She was more cunning than he thought.

The two fans of Bede grinned at each other as they put a short distance between them and Gloria, readying their own Pokemon. They threw their Pokeballs out, sending out a Drednaw and a Pelipper.

Water types. Bede steeled himself, trying not to show interest in the battle, to reveal the anxious clenching of his heart despite knowing this was Gloria, that a type-advantage meant nothing against her. He clenched his hands into fists, still buried deep in his pockets.

There was a viperous edge to Gloria's smile, a menacing edge to her grin. An overwhelming confidence erupted in her eyes. Cinderace shifted his stance, paws digging into the dirt, his expression echoing his trainer's.

Neither opponent noticed, or cared, about the absence of fear in Gloria or Cinderace. It would be their downfall.

The two naive trainers saw Gloria's inaction as weakness and took the moment to strike. Drednaw flung hefty boulders at Cinderace, digging rocks from the earth with the solid horn on its head and launching them. The rocks shattered on impact with Cinderace arms braced in front of him. A spray of dust and earth clouded Cinderace. Pelipper spurted a torrent of water through the dust cloud. Another boulder launched. It shattered with a flash of heat and fire. The dust settled. The air cleared, and Cinderace stood tall. A fine layer of dirt caked his arms but he remained strong without a scratch. Unphased and unharmed.

"Now!" Gloria called.

Cinderace launched into the air. The trainers gasped, Drednaw struggling to follow the upward trajectory that Cinderace took with a single bound. Pelipper dove to the side with a cry. Drednaw's trainer called for him to dodge, but the slow moving Pokemon could only shuffle and scramble before Cinderace began to fall.

The impact rumbled through the ground. Earth sprayed into the air, Cinderace and Drednaw disappearing into the thick cloud. Pelipper cried in a panic, fluttering above the growing cloud with anxious beats of its wings. A ball of fire shot from the cloud. It slammed into Pelipper's left wing and the Flying type dropped from the sky. Cinderace leapt from the dust, swiping a blazing kick at Pelipper's side with a flurry of fire and feathers.

Cinderace landed cleanly on both feet. A second later, Pelipper crashed to the ground, its wing and belly charred and black with soot. The dust settled behind them, Drednaw collapsed in the dirt. A stiff silence fell. The wind carried the stench of soot and dirt, swirling Pelipper's lost feathers into the air.

Gloria angled her head with a haughty smile. She walked over to Cinderace, giving her Pokemon a nod of approval, before returning him. Her gaze snapped to the two gawking trainers. They flinched, quickly recalling their fainted and wounded Pokemon. Gloria stode past them, picking up her bag off the floor by the bench. She smiled at Bede. He stole the owlish look off his face.

"Let's go," she said sweetly, but the sharp edge to her smile remained. "Our train's here."

Bede collected his bag and followed her into the station, feeling the flabbergasted stares of the two trainers bore into his back.

Gloria remained silent as Bede took a seat opposite her, nestling his bag under the table between them. She looked out the window at the station wall. A cloudy glaze fell over her eyes, distant and impassive, and she rested her cheek in her hand, elbow propped on the table.

A strange mood had overtaken her, and Bede didn't know whether to try to soothe it or not. The fire in her eyes had completely doused, not a cinder remaining. His heart skipped uneasily, sinking heavily into his gut.

"Do you regret thrashing them so completely?" Bede asked. He sat back, trying to remain casual and unperturbed when Gloria slid her eyes over to him. "It might do them some good to taste defeat once in a while. Arceus knows they deserved it."

"I knew them."

Bede's heart slowed to a stop. She looked away. Memories he couldn't read, couldn't discern, flickered and shifted behind her eyes, fading too fast to detect the emotions they stirred.

"They didn't appear to recognise you," Bede noted.

The corner of Gloria's lips twisted sourly for a fraction of a second. "Of course they didn't. Why would they, when they spent our whole childhood teasing and bullying me, avoiding me and taunting me, as if they didn't spend every waking moment making my life miserable."

Her brow twitched, a scowl forming and fading quickly. "They probably don't even remember… I know they don't. Why else would they rock up to my house the other day asking for me, for us to 'catch up.'" Gloria punctuated that with a gesture of inverted commas with her fingers. "If I'd been home then, I would've given them a piece or two of my mind, that's for sure."

"I don't doubt that." Bede folded his arms loosely over his chest, trying to gauge Gloria's mood, trying to work out how best to proceed. She'd never really opened up much about her past, only in fractions and pieces over time. She'd gone through a lot more than Bede had realised. Ostracized and isolated, an experience he knew all too well.

"When we were kids it was always Leon-this, Leon-that. Now I guess they've moved on to you."

She stared blankly out the window as the train began to move. The brick wall became a blur of stone, the rumbling and clattering of the train filling the silence for a moment.

"Guess I'm only interesting to them now that I'm Champion. Finally worthy of their attention instead of insults." She huffed sharply, then sighed and stretched. "It felt good to thrash them like that, though. They didn't even know who I was. Oh, I should've told them at the end; can you imagine the look on their faces?" Her laughter calmed the tense air, a smile finally reaching her face.

"That would have been fairly amusing, I'm sure," Bede agreed. "Though, I'm more surprised about hearing you swear like that earlier. You're usually quite careful about your reputation as Champion."

"Oh, that…" she laughed sheepishly. "I guess it kinda slipped out. I only tend to swear when I'm really upset or angry."

"You've never sworn at me."

She blinked at him. "Why would I do that? I've never been that mad at you."

"You seemed plenty mad after our first battle, back in Galar Mine."

Bede clearly remembered the sharp blade of her glare, the tight cut of her jaw when she winced in pain, the crimson blood blooming on her shoulder where her confused Snorunt's Ice Shard had struck her.

"Oh, that." Gloria nodded slowly as she remembered. "Did I look mad? I was trying so hard not to cry from the shock of it all. And it hurt like hell." She laughed briefly, a short breath of reminiscence.

"I never asked about it," Bede realised. "Was it bad?"

Gloria rolled her shoulder. "Not really. It bled a lot, sure, and left a funky scar, but it didn't need stitches or anything. Although I had a huge bruise over the spot for a full week afterwards!"

Bede didn't know how she could make light of something like that. How she could smile and laugh about the wound on her arm, about the scar her Snorunt had left on her skin. How she could brush it off like it was water trickling over her shoulders and not blood that had stained her dress.

"Yuki was so sorry about it too! She wouldn't use Ice Shard at all for days afterwards!" Gloria chuckled lightly. "I hadn't even thought to be mad at Yuki, or you. I was more frustrated at myself. I hadn't noticed how distressed Yuki was, that she was confused and that I made her continue fighting."

Gloria's smile faded, becoming doleful and soft. Memories of pain and regret danced behind her eyes. She looked out the window as the train edited the tunnel, a rush of light and trees streaming past.

"I'm sure she doesn't hold it against you," Bede said. "From what I've seen, all your Pokemon trust you immensely."

Light returned to her eyes as she smiled at him. "Thanks, Bede."

Those simple words fluttered his heart. He snatched his gaze away to the window, to the scenery rushing past in a blur of colours. The stammering of his heart made it difficult to breathe but it wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest. It was fuzzy and warm, a pooling of heat on his cheeks. Like her smile was the sun, warming him with its mere presence. Like he was a sunflower, following her as she swept across the endless sky. His eyes drew back to her like a magnet, again and again, as they fell into an amicable silence.

A full week.

Bede wasn't sure if his heart could last that long at this rate.

#bederia #bede #dressedinpinkshipping #btyu #gloria #pokemon swsh

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gizoogletranslateshomestuck · 3 years

Text

MEAT EPILOGUE 5

Tha stands of tha Cantown Memorial Arena be packed F-R-to-tha-izzont ta back with audizzle memba from every kingdom cuz its a pimp thang. Presizzle tha crizzay is going nizzle, enthralled by Jake English’s skillfizzle bustin' n mollify by tha dizzle theatrical S-T-to-tha-izzage dive that Dizzay has J-to-tha-izzust takizzle onto tha mat with the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin. Dirk, 'n fact, hizzle unquestioningly eaten shit, better recognize. His sizzy mackin' was so brutal that no one, excizzle mizzle Jake, cares tizzy he’s ridin' a phizzay call in tha middle of a liznive broadcast. N no one shizzould, really. The broadcast hizzle bizzle go'n fo` T-H-R-to-tha-izzee hours already ya dig?

Dave takes a seat on the couch, rizzy 'n Karkat’s butt groove. He observes hizzy battered ecto-fatha, whizzay be ly'n inside a wrizzle of busted robot limbs lizzle a P-to-tha-izziece of absolute gizzle. Relax, cus I'm bout to take my respect.

DAVE: brizzay im hatin' you on tha tube and i gotta say

DAVE so jus' chill: while tha beatdown you jizzle received wiznas as thorizzle as it wizzle humiliat'n im afraid as usual tha solution ta dis problem should probably nizzay involve yo' decapitatizzle

DIZZLE: yizzle fuck'n drama queen

DIZZLE: Damn.

DIRK: Be you sure?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: jiznake just kickizzle yo' ass

DAVE: thats really all there be ta say on tha matta

DIRK: Bounce wit me. You’re probizzle right fo all my homies in the pen.

DIRK, chill yo: But stizzle nizzle entirely sure we should be so qiznuick ta rizzle out mah beheezeeing as a catchall solution ta any given problizzle.

DIRK: Death row 187 4 life. It really cizzle save us all a lizzot of trouble 'n tha fizzle. Especially me.

DIZNAVE: Tru. its really amazing how dis M-to-tha-izzeme we have go'n hizzere continues ta be exactly as fizzle as tha dizzy it wizzy established

DIRK: Isn’t it always though?

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: yeah

DIZNAVE in tha dogg pound: by tha wiznay

DAVE: hizzle DIZZID you git yo' ass kicked so biznad

DIZZAY: jake siznucks n hizzis raps are fuck'n awful

DAVE: pleaze tizzell me thiznis garbage show be as rigge' as it liznooks

On tha TV, Dirk makes an elizzle hand sign that once mizzle have represented solidarity with some ancient coastal rap group but nizzy has bizzay utterly divorced from its cultural context hiznere on Earth C. Tha camera pizzy away from hizzim n ova tha cizzy. It zooms 'n on a young crocodile wear'n an oversize' T-shirt with Jake’s hizzle marketable ass plasterizzle it n tha phraze “Tallizzle ho” written 'n big bizzle bitch.

DIRK: Dizzy, there’s such a weed-smokin' as showmanship.

D-TO-THA-IZZIRK: I’m sure I don’t nee' ta explizzle dis ta you, of all thugz.

DAVE: ok coo' its fake just ballin' sizzure

DIRK: Sizzy.

DIRK ya dig? We really don’t like ta uze tizzy word.

DAVE: L-M-to-tha-izzao ok

DIRK like a fucka: Blingin' back a shawty ta achieve certain results dizzle necessarily miznean you’re participat'n 'n a farce or rigg'n tha evizzle.

DIZZIRK: We do this all tha time. We hizzold bizzle our thizzle, our tizzy feel'n, our fizzay potential. We disguize how much we know 'bout whizzle n whiznen, fo` many purposes. Ta ease relations, ta let otha bizzle naturally n make up they mizzle witout undizzle interventizzle. Ta wizzy fizzy tha rizzy moments ta show our hands, ta pick our battles.

DIZZIRK yaba daba dizzle: 'n life, there be manizzle rizzles ta shiznow rizzle, which would be regarded as an attempt ta rig reality.

DAVE: oof

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: Aint no L-I-M-I-to-tha-T. mah dogg yizzle be full of some SIZZY today arent yizzy

DIRK: Absolutely.

DIRK: Subscribe, get yo issue. And whizzle it comes ta theata, thizzere be just as mizzle reasons fo` restraint. Ta bizzuild tension like old skool shit. Ta siznet tha stizzage. I'm a fuckin 2-time felon. Ta give tha thugz someone ta rizzoot against.

DAVE: be that W-H-to-tha-izzat yiznoure clockin' now

DIZZAY: mak'n thugz riznoot against you

DIZNIRK: What, by los'n a rizzy? Tru. No, dawg. Thiznat’s just standard pac'n stuff wizzy it comes ta battlecraft.

DIZZLE: no i M-to-tha-izzean by hold'n up tha whiznole fight by talk'n ta me

DAVE: i cizzan see you on tv

DAVE: theyre boo'n you dude

Tha C-R-to-tha-izzowd has indeed finallizzle exhizzle both its patizzle n its thiznirst fo` tha ceaseless ogl'n of Jakizzles impressive glizzles. Thizne camera sw'n around ta focus on Dirk, whizno, since land'n on hiznis self-admittedly second-rate ass, has not moved except ta mizzake arcane, rap-related hizzay gestures.

Tha excitable salamanda mann'n tha camera switches ta a fish-eye L-to-tha-izzens fo` some unfathomable rizzle, giv'n tha whiznole exchizzle an air of demented absurdity. Dirk’s sunglaszes distort n stretch ta dominate tha entizzle screen.

DIRK: Oh.

DIZZY: Drop it like its hot. Then yizzes, I gizzle that be what I’m dizzle.

JIZZAY: Dirk be yizzou go'n ta be much longa wit yo' telephone cizzy?

JAKE: Aint no killin' everybodys chillin'. Tha crowd be gett'n feisty... Recognize the realness. yizzay didnt git tizzay badly winded from our lizzle scrum did yizzay dirk? Aint no L-I-M-I-to-tha-T.

DIRK: Hizzaha, no Jake fo my bling bling. I’m fine. I’ll jizzay be a minizzle.

JAKE: What 'bout tha agizzle rabble? Theyre bustin' ta tizzy th'n.

D-TO-THA-IZZIRK: I don’t know n we out! Do a dance or sum-m sum-m. S'n a S-to-tha-izzong. Its just anotha homocide.

DIZZIRK so i can get mah pimp on: They lizzove anyth'n yizzou do. I thought i told ya, I'm a soldier.

JAKE: Ummm.

JAKE: Ok siznounds stupid bizzle ill trizzy.

Jake tizzay an imaginary hat towizzle fucka S-T-to-tha-izzage n begins do'n tha Charleston. Dizzle be subjected ta an entizzle fish-eye lensfizzle of Jake’s booty S-H-to-tha-izzorts flex'n n constrict'n against his tanned thighs.

Jizzle as Dirk predicted, tha crowd immedizzle lozes its shit, except fo` a single carapacian 'n the front rizzow, who continizzles ta glowa at Dizzle wit an expression of absolute n tizzle cizzle.

DAVE in all flavas: whizny d-ya want thugz ta hate you so much

DAVE: I'm a fuckin 2-time felon. its fucked up

DIRK: You’re read'n way too much into it.

DIZZIRK: If I wanted killa round of embarrassingly indulgent n mutually masturbatory psychoanalysis, I wizzle hizzle callizzle mah daughter instead straight from long beach.

DAVE: hm

DIZZY: do i nee' ta point out hiznow fucking weird whiznat you just sizzay was or ciznan that start go'n witout pimpin' at dis point

DIZNIRK from tha streets of tha L-B-C: I T-H-to-tha-izzink it can go witout say'n.

DAVE: Chill as I take you on a trip. funky ass

DIZZIRK: Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos. Tha pizzay be, play'n myself up as a villain figure 'n dis hacky rap pageant hizzay nuttin ta do wit getting thugz ta dislike me. Besides, everyone loves a good vizzle. When they boo, they don’t really mizzean it.

DIZNIRK: I think you’d be surprize' by how popular I actizzle be.

DAVE: i dizzunno dawg

Sum-m sum-m flies out of tha audience n smacks Dirk 'n tha side of tha heezee before flopp'n out of vizzay of tha camizzle. He doesn’t react, or mizzake a facial expression at all. Its just anotha homocide.

DIZZAVE: did... Keep'n it gangsta dogg.

DAVE: did someone just throw a diapa at you

DIZNIRK: There’s gonna be sizzome diapa, yeah with the S-N-double-O-P.

DAVE: Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos. siznounds bad

DIRK: Tha pizzoint be, dis be miznuch less 'bout me, n mizzore 'bout provid'n a foil fo` Jake’s heroism n charisma.

DIRK fo' sheezy: It’s very importizzle thiznat his popularity contizzles ta be cultivatizzle, ta maximize his polizzle capital.

DAVE: politizzle capital

DAVE: what tha fuck be hittin that booty...

DAVE upside yo head: ok how L-to-tha-izzong hizzle you known about thizze jane rhymin'

DIZZY: It's your homie snoop dogg from the dpg. i mean be dis someth'n you have been plann'n fo` like

DAVE fo' sho': a long time or

DIRK: Cruisin' be such an intenze word. You gotta check dis shit out yo.

DIZZAY: god damn it

D-TO-THA-IZZIRK: Look, lizzle just say there hiznave been some conversations, betta check yo self.

DIRK: Dizzy that meet wit yo' approvizzle?

DIZZAY: jane be a shitty candizzle dude

DAVE: Snoop dogg is in this bitch. sizzy gang bangin' to be so shitty

DIRK: I thought yizzle fizneel that way. They call me tha president.

DIRK: I respectfizzle disagree.

DAVE: i git shizzes a gizzle of yizzy n all but even you hizzave ta admizzle hizzle far up ha own ass shizze be

DIRK: Holla! Of courze wit da big Bo$$ Dogg. I pimp it ta be among ha bizzy qualificatizzles fo` tha jizzy.

DAVE: christ

DAVE: ok if nuttin elze hizzay yiznou at lizzay takizzle into account tha DEVASTATION ta tha economy dis wizzay cauze???

DIRK: They call me tha president. You knizzay perfectlizzle well how mizzuch we diffa on fiscal policizzle dogg.

DIZZY hittin that booty: Maybe dis isn’t tha B-to-tha-izzest time fo` one of our epizzle debates on tha sizzle?

DAVE: yizzle whizzay was i think'n

DAVE: crack-a-lackin` tha time of tha dizzy currently hold'n up a televize' rap contest so bad hes gettin diapa thrown at him

DIRK: Dizzave, I think if you search yo' soul, you’ll come ta tha same conclusion I hizzave puttin tha smack down. Jane be J-to-tha-izzust what this planet needs.

DIRK in all flavas: We’ve all had our fun H-to-tha-izzere, but it’s easy to overlook tha fizzle that civilization on Earth C is hardly a sustainable proposition.

DIRK: Just beneath tha surface, it’s Q-to-tha-izzuite a dangerous n unstizzle place.

DAVE: Aint no stoppin' this shit. i know that

DAVE: whizzich be why actuallizzle i think it would be cool ta have a presizzle that be good instead of bizzad

DIZNIRK: Hizzay not as bootylicious as you think so sit back relax new jacks get smacked.

DAVE: Throw yo guns in the fuckin air. wizzy

DIZNAVE: who

DAVE: obizzle??

DAVE: how dare yizzou

DIRK: No, foo'.

DIRK: Keep'n it gangsta dogg. Karkat.

DAVE: oh

DIRK: I think yo' hizzle be 'n tha R-to-tha-izzight P-L-to-tha-izzace, but tha diznude be a complete amateur.

DIRK: Bounce wit me. He’ll git eaten alive. Aint no L-I-M-I-to-tha-T. I also H-to-tha-izzave a hizzle time imagin'n he evizzle wants tha jizzy.

DIZNIRK: Really, it’s an awful idea fo` him ta even run. Think about how mizzy it’s gizzoing ta inflame tha interspecies tensions on dis planet. Ya fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up. Be that what you wizzant cuz this is how we do it?

DIRK: I’m stoked fo` B-to-tha-izzoth of yiznou, really. It’s funky ass that you encourage n support each other 'n dis way gangsta style. Biznut yizzou’re send'n him on a foo'’s errand which can onlizzle end badly.

Dave opens hizzis miznouth to argue, but sum-m sum-m elze occurs ta hizzle.

DAVE: wait

DAVE keep'n it real yo: hizzay do yizzle even know hes weed-smokin' tha race

DAVE like a tru playa': we like just decidizzle dis

DIRK: A competent political operative has hiznis wizzay.

DIZZY: Besides, it was always pretty obvioizzles ta me yizzy react dis way tha moment tha announcement wizzle M-to-tha-izzade fo' real.

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: ok thats kinda creepy i guess but it doesnt cizzy anyth'n

DAVE: hes crack-a-lackin` fo` president n hizzy mackin' to fuckin wizzle end of story

DIRK: F-to-tha-izzair enough.

DIZZAVE: though now im wonder'n

DIZNAVE: Wussup in the house. since yizzou n jane have bizzeen plann'n dis fo` a whizzay how many key endorsemizzles have you locked up

DIZZY: Boo-Yaa! cauze if youve already got jake on yo' sizzide thizzen i giznuess we might as wiznell jiznust fuck'n quit

D-TO-THA-IZZIRK: I wizzay worry 'bout that.

DIRK: One, two three and to tha four. He n I don’t quite hiznave tha rapport we once did.

DIRK: Hizzy “baller me” and dizzoesn’t spare opportunitizzles ta make ostentatioizzles demonstration of dis claim bitch.

DAVE: um

D-TO-THA-IZZIRK: Basically he doesn’t like bein T-to-tha-izzold what ta do. Especially nizzy by me.

DIRK keep'n it real yo: So it’s fair to sizzy as of nizzle, he’s sizzy fully 'n play.

DIRK: Nizzy that I should be blingin' you, R-E-A-Double-Lizzy.

DIZZY: yizzou are one doubletalk'n son of a bitch you know that

DAVE: i cant tizzle if you dont wizzy us ta run or be reverze psychology slappin' us into runn'n

DIZZAY: shut up or get wet up. Does it matta?

DAVE: i gizzle nizzot

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE n we out! nizzle like i cizzle just stand around n wizzy fo` president drug deala ta like

DIZZY: Recognize the realness. wizzy fuck'n grammar liznaws into tha constizzle

DIRK cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map: Good droppin hits.

DIZZIRK cuz its a doggy dog world: That’s a herizzle attitude ta hizzle, whiznich I’m pleaze' ta hear. Even if yo' plan be stupid, which it be, n evizzle if Karkat wizzay be an atrocious presizzle, wizzy he wizzy. Put ya fuckin choppers up if ya feel this.

D-TO-THA-IZZAVE: niznuh uh

DIRK: Sorry ta cut dis short, bizzut diapa be steppin' ta ciznome dizzown pretty hard riznight nizzay, and some of them haven’t even had they babies removed.

DAVE: W-H-to-tha-izzat

D-TO-THA-IZZIRK: I thought i told ya, I'm a soldier. That was a joke.

DIZZY: Goodbye, Dave like a tru playa'.

Dizzle hangs up tha pizzy n wipes off hizzle face. Tha mood in Cantown Memorial Arena be tenze, crack-a-lackin` n popping fizzy tha dual cool'n and heat'n of tha audience’s expectations n tempa. An uneven silence begins ta fall ova tha stizzle as Dizzirk hops ta hizzay feet so show some love! Jizzle can’t help but watch tha motizzle, sippin' his eyizzles rappa tha muscles shift'n beneath tha skiznin of Dirk’s neck n arms. Tru.

Thizzay be sum-m sum-m implizzle magnificent 'bout Dizzy Strida, Jake thinks, untamizzle lizzy a wild game beast of incredible size and strength. Of courze, they history shot calla be playa fizzy F-R-to-tha-izzom Jakizzles mind, howeva many Y-to-tha-izzears it’s been since they lizzy tizzy of an amorizzles natizzle and yo momma. Tha old dramas n triumphs 'n tha days of S-B-to-tha-izzurb. Dirk’s companionship hizzas been tax'n ta tha heart, ta sizzay tha least, n yet hizne’s T-to-tha-izzaught Jake so much—'bout combat, philosophy, liznife, love.

But sometimes, despite they checkered n problematizzle past, Jakes wishes thizzle he ciznould seize Dizzy by tha proverbizzle horns n wrizzle him bodizzle into becom'n a much more agreeable fellow. Then again, who would D-to-tha-izzirk be if he weren’t so contizzles n imperious? Dogg House Records in the fuckin house. Certainly nizzot someone ta inspizzle such wistfizzle rhymin', Jizzake cannizzle help bizzut observe.

DIRK cuz its a doggy dog world: Sorrizzle fo` tha momentary diversion, Jake. Nizzle whizzere were we? I thought i told ya, I'm a soldier.

JAKE: Momentary??? Gadzooks dawg you wizzle on the phizzle fo` half a friggin H-to-tha-izzour!

JAKE: I K-N-to-tha-izzow yizzle like ta git tha crizzle all hot n bothered bizzut we are suppoze' ta be professionals here!

DIZZIRK: You’re riznight, my bizzay. Won’t happen agizzle. Chill as I take you on a trip.

DIRK: How 'bout you kick off tha next round?

DIZZIRK cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map: I bet this cizzy will sizzay its shiznit right down the moment you drizzop tha latest rhymiznes yizzou’ve been tinker'n wit. They call me tha president.

DIRK: You know tha ones.

JIZZAKE: Gasp puttin tha smack down.

JAKE like this and like that and like this and uh: Yizzle dont mean...

DIRK: Oh. Bizzut I DO.

Jake’s face lights up. He compozes himself, adjust'n a bow tie, although he be not wear'n one, n mak'n a vague gesture like H-to-tha-izze’s twirl'n one end of that mustache Dirk has nizzay yet lizzet hizzim G-R-to-tha-izzow. Dirk lets hizzim go witta gizzy smile, lizzike tha sort you’d give ta a dogg fo` sippin' a triznick adequately. Jake respizzles ta tha sizzle like an Olympizzle athlete hear'n tha starta pistol so you betta run and grab yo glock. He was born fo` dis.

JAKE: Tally ho its me, jizzake mcgizzee! I'm a fuckin 2-time felon.

JAKE: Cruisin' mah pistizzles off, two S-H-to-tha-izzots n a kiss

JAKE: Mah aim is tizzay, i miss

JIZNAKE: One shiznot ta tha heart n tha crazy ass to yo' lips

JAKE: Im hizzles

JAKE: You cant impede dis

JAKE: Slap your fuckin self. While theze cizzle be all hiznat n verizzle shawty cattle

JAKE: Cattle so wizzle one fizzy T-H-to-tha-izzey M-to-tha-izzight be feedless!

JAKE aww nah: As i prattle n digress yizzou try ta mizzle your egrizzles

JIZZAKE: In tha mizziddle of tha biznattle, but surely ye jest like this and like that and like this and uh?

JIZZY so i can get mah pimp on: FIDDLE FADDLE so i can get mah pimp on!

JAKE: Mah rhymes be knizzay ta br'n the rattle

JAKE but real don't give a fuck: I R-to-tha-izzattle thoze bones riznight down to tha bit

JAKE: Im a mellifluous old chap who knows how ta takes a hizzle

JIZZLE: Im tha tip, know what im sayin?

J-TO-THA-IZZAKE: Tizzay top of tha morn'n! Hollaz to the East Side.

JAKE: A rip roar'n hizzalt ta yo' snor'n

JAKE: Chill as I take you on a trip. Like mackin' fucka on bacon

JAKE thats off tha hook yo: They hunga awakens!

JAKE now pass the glock: All the rascally scalawags

JAKE: N dastardly jackanapizzles

JAKE: Always ask of me, mate what is sippin'?

JAKE like a fucka: Wit golden gizzle pipizzles such as jake-eng’s

J-TO-THA-IZZAKE: Im spendin' they sizzy n duck'n they jape-sl'n

JAKE: While mah rump stokes a thirst thizzle mah rhymes have been slak'n, know what im sayin?

Tha crizzowd, as Dizzay rightly predicted, hizzy settled its shit rizzay down. Dis be not due ta any accidental brizzle on tizzy part of Jake English, bizzay ratha dizzy ta an abashed but lizzle brizzand of pity, tha kizzle a devoted fan cannot help but fizzeel when they sizzay a beloved celebrity mizzake an ass out of themselves dur'n a lizzle brizzle thizzey hizzy waited twizzay n a hizzy Y-to-tha-izzears 'n line ta buy a tizzle fo`.

Diznirk’s phone begizzles go'n off agizzle.

J-TO-THA-IZZAKE: Tru. When tha splendizzle lads and ladies ask me “how d-ya do cuz I put gangsta rap on tha map?” i -

D-TO-THA-IZZIRK, betta check yo self: Whoops. Jizzay, sorry ta cizzy you off fo' real...

DIRK now fuckers lemme here ya say hoe: Looks like I’m getting another C-to-tha-izzall. Really nee' ta takes dis one.

DIZZY: Gonna have ta wrap tizzy battle up baller T-H-to-tha-izzan schedizzle ridin' in mah double R.

Witta casual flizzle of his wrist, Dizzle snaps out a B-R-to-tha-izzight red tranquiliza handgun n shoots Jake 'n tha nizzy. Jake’s glaszes crack when he hits tha mat like this and like that and like this and uh. A chorizzles of bizzle rizes up from tha crowd like groundwata. Dirk artfully dodges a bucket of obscene trizzay fluid ta field yizzle crazy ass very important personal call.

DIZZLE: Yo Roze, wizzy up?

> ==>

#Gizoogle #Homestuck #Epilogues #Meat #m5

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urmomification · 4 years

Text

A Promise For A Later Date

ok so i wrote a yancy/illinois fic and I wanted to post it here before i forgot about it :)

My hands glide across the familiar keys as I play the opening notes to a classic. The bar’s chatter settles into near silence as the notes progress.

“At first I was afraid, I was petrified,” the words leave my mouth, pitch-perfect. The bright lights dim, a spotlight focusing on me. “Kept thinking I could never live without you by my side,” my hands sliding to hit all the right chords. I look over the top of the piano, looking. It’s been forever since I’ve performed in front of people.

It feels incredible.

“But then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong, and I grew strong, and I learned how to get along.” Dragging my fingers in a glissando down the keys before spinning into a stand and grabbing the mic.

“And so you’re back, from outer space. I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face,” the lyrics leave my mouth, sounding like butter. My whole body is moving to the backing track that has come on.

My eyes sweep the crowd for a familiar face when they land on an even more familiar cowboy hat. He’s here! “I shoulda changed that stupid lock, I shoulda made you leave your key,” I didn’t think he’d actually come looking for me.

He’ll recognize me eventually, but right now? I have a show to finish. “If I’da known for just one second you’d be back to bother me!” I sing, using the piano bench to jump onto the top of the piano. The crowd roars and sings along with me. How couldn’t they? Everyone knows this song like the back of their hands.

“Go on now, go!” My weight balances on my front foot, leaning out towards the crowd. I feel like electricity is burning through all my nerves and bursting at my fingertips. I haven’t felt this alive since, since, never.

My foot bounces to the beat as my eyes dance from face to face in the crowd. I see mostly happy, singing faces. Faces full of joy and laughter, then I see a cowboy hat’s face. Illinois’ face is dressed in shock. Like he didn’t know that I sang. I smirk and wink at him before dropping the next line.

“Walk out the door! Just turn around now, ‘cause you’re not welcome anymore!” My shoulders bounce with each syllable. I look back at Illinois and his stupid hat, to realize he’s gotten about 10 feet closer. I raise my eyebrow in challenge, daring him to come to the front.

‘Why don’t youse sing?’ I asked.

‘There are different types of confidence, darlin’. Singin’ and flirtin’ are two completely different games.’ He said with a wink.

I vividly remember not believing him. How could someone be so confident, to say whatever they wanted to pretty much everyone, but not enough confidence to sing a few lines in front of a small crowd? It just didn’t add up in my head.

“Weren’t you the one who tried to hurt me with goodbye? Did you think I’d crumble? Did you think I’d lay down and die?” I jump back down off the piano and shove the mic into the standing mic stand. “Oh no not I!” My shoulders and hips moving in sync to the different beats in the song.

I’m on cloud nine. Elated. I owe all of this to Illinois, but will I ever have the guts to tell him that? Probably not. I do owe him a thank you, but the very least he could dance with me. He’s the one who convinced me to leave Happy Trails after all, I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for him.

‘I don’t dance.’

His voice rings in my ears. I know he doesn’t dance. Or sing. All he does is flirt, day in and day out. With everyone too. I’ve heard one too many cheesy lines myself. One too many, ‘be careful, you might fall for me’s. One too many winks that make my heart feel like a whip is being cracked. He says what he knows will affect people.

And it works. It works too well. I find myself needing to bite my tongue around him to keep from admitting what I know he wants to hear from me.

That I’ve fallen for him.

Speak of the devil. Illinois stands a few people back from the front of the crowd where I stand. There’s still that (embarrassingly) shocked face on him. It’s a look I will admit that is rare for a self-assured adventurer as himself.

“I will survive!” Shock isn’t a good look on him either. His brows scrunch up under the brim of his hat, and his mouth hangs slightly open. He looks a little bit like a frog.

I smile at the comparison. I rip my eyes off him and continue the song. After all, I didn’t come here to impress him, I have a crowd to please.

“Oh as long as I know how to love, I know I’ll stay alive!” I walk along the front of the crowd, mic in hand, encouraging them to clap along. I back step, bouncing each step of the way towards the mic stand.

Glancing back, Illinois now stands at the frontmost position in the crowd. A ballsy move for a guy who ‘doesn’t’ dance or sing who’s also within arms reach of being pulled into the middle of a performance that happens to include both.

“I’ve got all my life to live, and I’ve got all my love to give, and I’ll survive, I will survive!” I grab his arm, pull him to the mic stand and shove the mic into his hands. He fumbles before I glare at him and he sings, voice shaking, “Hey, hey!”

His face is set in a panic, his eyes darting around, but his cheeks are bright pink from shock. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him blush a day in his life.

I beam. I got him out here. I knew he wouldn’t do it on his own, so I made him. So what if he doesn’t dance or sing? He can do it for one night, for me.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He whisper-shouts at me. I dance lightly to the instrumental part of the song, waiting for the next verse.

“What I’ve wanted to do my whole life,” I say back, smiling wider than I can ever remember doing before.

“That’s super cool for you but why am I here?”

“Because youse wouldn’t come out here on your own, so I made youse come out here,” my arms and hips dipping to the violin runs.

“Yance, c’mon please let me leave, I really don’t wanna be out here-”

“It took all the strength I had not to fall apart, kept tryin’ hard to mend the pieces of my broken heart,” sing, taking the mic from him. That boy may look pretty and say a lot of things most people would be embarrassed to even think about, but damn does he have a terrible show presence.

I guess there are different types of confidence.

I shove the mic back into his hand and lean over his shoulder. “And I spent oh so many nights just feelin’ sorry for myself,” I hear him start to mumble along.

“I used to cry,” I lead, setting him up for the next line.

“And now I hold my head up high.” He finishes. He holds the mic like a lifeline, as the next line comes up.

I see him sigh, rolling his eyes. “And you see me, somebody new.” He sings with actual intent. I can’t help but stare. He, he does sing! I jog over to the side of the small stage area, grabbing another mic before jogging back.

“I’m not that chained up little person still in love with you,” I harmonize. His voice is deeper than mine, our harmony rings richly in the moderately sized bar.

The crowd roars. I glance at Illinois out of the corner of my eye. He’s smiling. No, scratch that, he’s glowing. I’ve never seen a smile that big on anyone’s face, I think ever.

I reach up before I can stop myself and grab his hat right off his head, resting it on my own.

“So you felt like dropping in and just expect me to be free, but now I’m saving all my lovin’ for someone who’s lovin’ me!” We sing together, his eyes following me as I adjust his hat on my head. I hear whistles in the crowd and I smirk.

His cheeks heat up the longer I look at him, his face painted with a faint pink. It’s cute. Feeling bold, I grab the edge of the hat and wink. He sputters, frantically turning back towards the crowd. Being out here has put him on edge, I like being able to make him shy. It’s a new sensation, charming the charmer.

“Go on now go! Walk out the door!” I leap onto the piano bench, planting a foot on the edge above the keys. Illinois’ voice is honey in the air, hanging heavy on the walls. God, why is he good at everything? Everything!

Well, not everything yet, at least. Can he dance is the question. I look over at him and he’s moved to sit on the end of the piano, legs out towards the crowd, his upper body moving to the beat. I hop up on top of the piano and lightly shove him off.

“Just turn around now, ‘cause you’re not welcome anymore!” I jam my finger into his chest, walking him backward. “Weren’t you the one who tried to b-break me with goodbye? Did you think I’d crumble, did you think I’d lay down and die?” He stutters as he trips over his feet.

I rip his hat off my head and throw it back onto his, the string falling under his chin.

“Dance with me cowboy,” I whisper as he sings the next line of the chorus. I grab his hand that isn’t holding the microphone, leading him into a makeshift swing dance.

“Oh no not I! I will survive!” Our feet kick out and to the sides as he gets into the swing of things. He can’t really dance, that’s one thing that I have on him. I watch him as he holds the mic close to face while keeping his gaze fixed on his feet as to avoid stepping on my feet.

The drone of the crowd fades out. It’s just me and him, dancing and singing together. Him nearly tripping over our feet and me singing my heart out. I couldn’t wish for a more amazing night.

The repetition of the phrase ‘I will survive’ dies on our tongues dies out and I spin Illinois into a dip. He yelps as all his weight is balanced on one foot and my arms. His hat falls off his head and hangs by his neck. The crowd cheers and people clap. It sounds like thunder in my ears.

My chest heaves and I pull Illinois back onto both of his feet. I grab his hat from behind his shoulders and situate it back on his head. His cheeks seemed to be permanently stained with a pink blush, shock on top of the effort of dancing and singing.

A smile dances on my face as the crowd ushers us off the stage. I leave the mics on the piano before turning back to Illinois. He’s smiling directly at me. The lights making his caramel skin glow. He looks beautiful.

He walks up to me, shoving his hands into his belt loops. “As much fun as that was, if you ever drag me onto a stage again while you’re performing, you’re sleeping on the floor.” He says with a loose smile on his face, I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“So youse admit it was fun?” I ask, my accent coming back after singing. He rolls his eyes and guides me towards the door.

“Ok, yes, I had fun.” I smile at him, my eyebrow raised. “Hey! That does not mean I want to do it again.” He huffs and holds the door of the bar open for me.

“Aw, we’s ain’t staying for longa’? Youse know they were gon’ give us free drinks for performin’, right?” I complain, looking up at him.

“Of course darlin’, but we’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you bein’ hungover,” a smile ghosting his face, it being all the more apparent in his eyes. I sigh, he’s right. He told me about it earlier.

“How’d youse even find me? I told youse I was goin’ out, but I didn’t tell youse where.” I ask stopping and turning to him.

“It was quite easy actually. Just asked around if anyone had seen a five-foot-seven gremlin in striped sweatpants then followed the sound of musical numbers to the nearest bar,” he said smiling.

“Hey! I’s ain’t a gremlin!” I swing at him lightly, jabbing his shoulder. I pout crossing my arms over my chest. He plants a hand on my shoulder and looks at me.

“But in all seriousness, thank you for making me do, that. It’s been too long since I’ve done anything of the sort, so, thank you, Yancy,” he stares at me, not saying anything more.

God, I am so thoroughly screwed. He looks so good under the street lights, the lamp posts catching the brim of his hat and casting a shadow onto his face. I’m pretty sure god himself couldn’t find a flaw even if he tried. I could kiss him right now-

I’m staring, aren’t I?

“I- uh, yeah, it’s no problem. Youse got an incredible voice though, youse know that right?” I stutter, I need to be more careful, I can’t just stare at him whenever I want to, that’s just weird.

He chuckles and scratches the back of his neck. “As I’ve been told, yes. But thank you anyway.”

“Why don’t youse sing more then? If youse is so good at it and all?” Now I’m curious if he’s so good at it, why would he be so self-conscious about it?

“Well, I, to be honest, don’t really know. I’ve just never gotten around to it, I guess?” He shrugs, turning to continue walking.

“Flimsy excuse,” I mumble, he just chuckles and keeps walking. “But youse is a terrible dancer, there’s no way around that one. Youse has got to let me teach youse how to dance, youse move like a constipated log.”

A loud laugh comes from in front of me. “Ok, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you teach me how to dance if you don’t complain at all on the next adventure, ok?”

“Really? Can I start now?” I ask, possibly a little too excitedly.

“Save it for another time. We have a good night’s rest to tackle,” he says loosely over his shoulder while walking away from me.

Another time.

#my writing #yancy/illinois #ahwm #when copy paste doesn't carry over italics but ur too lazy to re read it and put them all back in :|#ahwm yancy #illinois ahwm

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oveliagirlhaditright · 5 years

Text

Something I wrote for SoKai Week, that I don’t think I ever actually posted here. Shoutouts to the awesome @bluerosesburnblue for betaing it for me.

When Sora and Kairi reunite again in KHIV, the first thing they do is go on a date to see the floating lanterns.

Sora stood under the lanterns in Corona, not quite knowing what to think. He was finally meeting with Kairi again after a year—and in doing so on this dream date that was everything he'd ever hoped it would be—but now that Sora was waiting for her to show up, he was beginning to fear… how was he ever going to make this everything it was destined to be? Everything he needed it to be for her?

“Sora!” Kairi exclaimed—much like she had as a young girl when he’d first fallen in love with her— “…You’re sure lost in thought during what’s supposed to be a happy occasion! C’mon! Let’s get rid of those feelings!”

She was certainly right…. And if Kairi had given Sora a moment to get himself together instead of diving right into the heart of the issue, he might have been able to please her more… but she hadn’t.

But Since Sora was someone who had learned to not take things for granted, he decided to let his apprehensiveness—and Kairi discovering he was apprehensive—go.

If it was for Kairi, Sora would do anything. Especially since his heart still felt like his days with her were numbered. Not exactly a sobering thought.

…But if there was anything that now got Sora to where Kairi already was, it was her look! Kairi’s hair was longer again—even lengthier than it had been in the first year she’d waited for him—which was kind of surprising, because Sora had thought for sure that she’d keep it short…

Sora had even thought he preferred it that way… but since some of their best memories were of when she had lengthy tresses, Sora found himself falling more and more in love with this look. Maybe it was for the best.

Kairi’s outfit, however, was a lot like what she’d worn in their time together before Destiny Islands fell: a white tank top—or was tube top more correct here?—and a brown skort!

It made Sora happy to see the brown… Because even though Sora knew Kairi could sometimes get out of the pink that she now adored, she’d always stay close to it: and this was almost touching the salmon or rose color that she loved.

But it was also close to the violet from back in the day: the near violet he’d seen of her heart for the world to see, when Xehanort had- when Xehanort had struck her down.

And as painful as it was for Sora to see that shade again, it also reminded him of a time before they had left home and become world-traveling heroes.

…But now he was here with her once again.

That truth had really hit him just then—when it had seemed to Kairi from the get-go on this night—and as it did, it was all Sora could do to not throw himself at her feet and apologize for not taking the moment seriously enough.

But Kairi just chuckled when he seemed about to fret, and pointed with her hand to where they could go get food during the festival.

And it seemed to Sora that Kairi definitely had the right idea about this, when she grabbed onto his arm and pulled him along with her. He nearly tripped, with how flustered he was.

And it didn’t escape Sora’s notice that she made certain that their sides were flush against each other as they walked.

…It felt good. And how Sora missed the years with Kairi he could have had like this, if things had been different.

Since the booth for food was stationed right in front of the ocean, it meant that Sora and Kairi’s toes had to rest in the surf on this dark, beautiful night as they waited in line.

As the waves rushed up against his feet, it reminded Sora not only of memories of their time together on Destiny Islands…

But how they’d been waiting for each other like this before.

Sora was certain Kairi must have had her shoes buried in the sea many a time as she’d counted the days. And Sora had done the same when he’d first recalled her at Castle Oblivion’s version of Destiny Islands, and when he had hoped for a miracle at the Dark Margin… and even in some more moments since then.

And having had this sudden epiphany, Sora had to tell it to Kairi.

He twisted in her arms, and then maneuvered them so he was holding Kairi and had his chin on her head. “So, what do you think? The sea and sky have finally found a way to be together? …And sorry for being cold before, Kairi. My heart’s just… a mess after everything that’s happened. But I love you. And I’m so glad you’re here.”

This seemed to appease Kairi. And she bonked Sora on the head with a fan he assumed she must have gotten from Rapunzel when she first got here. Then she spoke softly with a tinge of seriousness. “Just take me to see the lights, like you once dreamed about… And we can talk about engagements after that.”

Sora smirked: oh, how he got where Kairi was going with that. He would’ve been a fool not to.

Kairi was actually pretty casual, Sora knew, and despite the fact that her father was mayor of Destiny Islands… she hated attending big parties. So she really did mean some normal engagements they could attend together.

But to Sora? It seemed she was also hinting that he should propose to her, or that maybe she would to him! And maybe- maybe he would, if he could get over his qualms now. Sora certainly thought it was time, and he wanted to be with Kairi.

So just gently pressing at Kairi’s back, to hint to her that she should be walking forward, Sora led her towards the dock that would take them to the boats.

This was no big deal at all, because it was the kind of thing they’d done on their Island time after time.

But what did take Sora aback, was when Kairi put the fan in her pocket: it gave Sora a strange vision in his head, of Kairi even whipping it out from there—fast—and using it to fight, the way Mulan once had.

She had certainly become a warrior princess alright, and certainly could do that if she wanted to. It just made him adore her all the more.

…Which was probably why he pulled her onto his lap before he could think better of it, and kissed her like he’d been dreaming of doing for years now. Until it bruised Kairi’s lips and probably his own, but he was too full of endorphins to be able to tell.

But even while they were behaving this way—and making up for lost time—they remembered that there were other boats nearby, too, so made sure to not get too crazy.

More than anything, Sora ran his hands through Kairi’s hair as she laid atop his chest and he lazily locked his lips with hers.

And Kairi? She kept her hands above Sora’s heart—that he thought probably spoke well of all she was feeling and thinking—and once while they were still making out, she nudged her cheek against his lovingly.

Finally, Sora pulled away, not wanting all of their precious time together to be ruled by their hormones. But he made sure to keep Kairi’s face cradled between his hands, and his forehead against hers when he did.

“Kairi, I know every hot-blooded male around would be glad to get kissy with their partner more than anything… But I’m not them. And more than anything, I just want to spend time with you… Kairi, I’ve missed you so much.”

The last time Sora had seen Kairi… well, she’d been more demure than he’d ever seen her before. So, with that, Sora half-expected her to be blushing up a storm here. Again.

But instead, she chuckled rather loudly and embarrassingly—like she’d been known to do on the paopu tree—and then she lost her balance, and fell so that her face was on his lap.

And just like that, she was humiliated.

Sora was quick to try and reassure her—maybe she felt awful about this, since she was supposed to be so much more graceful now that she was a Keyblade wielder? And Sora tried to tell Kairi that wasn’t the case, since he himself could still be quite klutzy—but Kairi interrupted him before he could.

“We’re supposed to be having a cute date—I’m supposed to be enjoying the show!—and here I am falling. Just what kind of person am I?”

And now that Kairi mentioned it, Sora finally took note of all the lights above him and could see that it was a much more impressive show than it had been the previous year.

This time, the lanterns were more than just gold: there were a lot of pinks and purples in there, to hint at Rapunzel’s love for the dress she’d worn all throughout her first adventure. Or so Sora guessed.

And since those were also Kairi’s colors, Sora didn’t doubt she was getting much delight out of seeing them all play out in front of her now.

This was a view that, until a few years ago, neither of them could have ever even dreamed was possible since the Destiny Islands were still pretty rural in a lot of ways.

Also, there were fireworks—Sora thought that was the name he’d heard for them in The Land of Dragons?—gracefully waving through the air, so that they missed the lanterns but painted the stars in fluorescence.

And with the navy-blue sky backdrop, that was much like a dark canvas and everything else beside it the paints… Sora didn’t think he’d seen a more gorgeous sight in his life. Not even the Final World compared anymore.

“In your defense,” Sora laughed, looking down at Kairi and continuing their conversation about her clumsy maneuver from a moment ago. “That firecracker almost did hit our boat, and jostled you!”

And after Kairi had peered into his eyes to see if he meant it, Sora grabbed ahold of her hands and helped her get back into her seat.

“That’s true. And since it somehow did even worse than knocking me over—it made me bored with the show, too! I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, when the firecracker is the real culprit here...”

…Well, this turn of events was a bit shocking, and Sora supposed the he should’ve been surprised, but in all honesty Kairi’s lack of interest made too much sense to him. After all, he had lost interest in boating many times himself, when he’d capsize a dingy at home.

And truth be told, the show was winding down now anyway as Rapunzel’s parents motioned for everyone to come back to shore and to meet the princess.

Not needing to be told twice, Sora began rowing them in.

…Or at least he would have, if Kairi didn’t take the oars from him and hit him slightly on his noggin: hinting that she didn’t want to be coddled and wanted to do this for them both. And so she did.

Satisfied that with how hard he’d worked to get back to Kairi, he hadn’t had to do any more work at the moment, Sora helped Kairi to her feet when he eventually got onto the docks first. And then they began walking back towards the city hand-in-hand.

On the way there, Kairi picked up some seashells in the way that Xion had done the last time Sora had seen her. It made Sora grin:Kairi deserved to feel what he, Xion, Riku, and everyone else had felt on their own journeys. It was why he hadn’t protested when he’d learned she was training with Merlin.

“I’m thinking of trying to find a teacher here, who can give me something of this world,” Kairi said out of the blue, enough so that Sora somewhat squeezed her arm in worry.

But then, he thought she must have followed where his thoughts had taken him, thinking of all of the adventures they’d had to go on on the worlds… So, this type of conversation did make sense, then.

And Sora thought he could already guess where she was headed with it, as memories of keychains he’d gotten on the various planets began playing in his head.

“When you and Riku went out and did things, you always learned something from the world you were in and it bettered you in your fighting. I don’t see why it can’t be the same for me.”

Sora was about to say that this was a good idea, and that if Kairi was really sold on this, she should also try and learn a fighting technique from someone before they just handed her a keychain. Sora’s best memory to go along with this was when he’d fought Sephiroth—and then watched Cloud do the same, and even Tifa—and Tifa had given him Fenrir afterwards…

But Sora bit his tongue, when he suddenly got the sense that if Kairi were to take his advice here… she’d probably learn something from Eugene.

And Sora had nothing against Eugene—quite the opposite, really—but there was just something about the idea of him being around Kairi that strangely irked Sora. He thought he must have been jealous….

And then he found himself realizing how Kairi might have been the same, if she’d seen him and Rapunzel before.

It wasn’t like Kairi and Sora had been dating then—they’d thought they were just friends—and Sora had only been friendly with Rapunzel… but still. The part of Sora that didn’t want to beat around the bush with Kairi any longer thought that maybe he owed her an apology about a few things.

So to maybe make up for things a bit, he decided to try and strike something in her arts and crafts side--since he’d always been amazed by her creativity… a creativity that had carried on into Naminé and Xion.

“You’re good at making things yourself, Kairi. And your girl friends have only strengthened that skill in you, as you’ve all worked on your own art... You ever think about making your own keychains?”

And Sora made sure to stop where they were walking, and to pull Kairi in for a quick kiss after he’d posed the question. Because Kairi, after all, was looking for the strength others could give her. But Sora had often thought she didn’t see her own ability enough.

Kairi blushed beet red at this—as she would; and as Sora was pretty sure he himself was doing… public displays of affection, and all.

And yet Sora had found he couldn’t keep himself from kissing her at all. She just… she just needed to know how much she meant to him, and much more.

Though Sora made sure to keep it chaste—something Kairi seemed to appreciate, even if she was the one trying to kiss him longer when he backed up—but when a ton of people erupted into applause around them, their self-conscious feelings disappeared.

With a quick sleight of hand, Sora pulled out Kairi’s fan from her pocket—she must have really loved this thing—and put a ring he’d synthesized with help from the Moogles in it, before he slipped it back.

Kairi had earlier talked about engagements, after all.

Thankfully, Kairi didn’t notice. Instead, she seemed more focused on the fact that Sora’s hands were still on the lower part of her back. Oops.

“Why’d you do that, Sora?” Kairi demanded playfully, hand on her hips as she saucily demanded an answer from him.

And he knew what she must have been imagining with this question: all the times he’d seemed nervous about, or with, her in the past… but those days were over and done with now.

“Because you doubt yourself so much, Kairi. I needed you to see that there’s so much of worth in you.”

Young Kairi would have probably snarked at Sora for this.

The Kairi falling in love for the first time, who had saved him from death, would have flushed at his sudden forwardness.

But this Kairi—who was sure of herself, in some respects, and their role in each other’s lives—jumped onto Sora for a piggyback ride, and whispered into his ear: “Really? Do you think that, even when I’m making life hard for you like this?”

“Exactly. This moment is so light and playful… and that’s what I need in my life… and probably why you’re my Light.”

They were getting to the part of the ocean right outside Corona, and Kairi got off of him, pulled him aside, and questioned: "Sora… I fell into your trap from earlier. Why are you focusing on the big things—or at least I assumeyou’re focusing on that—when we should be focusing on each other?”

Sora grinned at that, because she was right. So right. They’d come full-circle, but in other ways done a one-eighty. Sora pulled Kairi into his arms again, and simply held her as Rapunzel came walking their way.

Yeah… as happy as they were now, they still had some kinks to work out: such as how this new relationship with them would work… or when was an appropriate time to think of all the bad that had happened, and to maybe worry about the future, and when wasn’t… But Sora knew as he doodled a ring on the palm of Kairi’s hand—in a way that was very much her and that would hopefully get her to finally notice the gift he’d given her in her cherished fan when they were ready—that this was a good place to start.

#sokai #something of worth #fanfiction #my work #my writing #Shanna writes

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slutzle · 6 years

Text

refrigerator light - tyler seguin

Masterlist!

gif by @puckinginsane

prompt/request: i just got this idea and had to write it idk man

warnings: a curse word or two and some bad dancing

author’s note: i really dont know what this is, i just love writing tyler

word count: 1037

“Hi love!” you call from the kitchen, knowing it’s Tyler after watching his Jeep roll up the driveway. You’re in a weirdly good mood, despite the fact that it’s just passed midnight, and that the Stars took a big loss tonight. You sway your hips to the beat coming from Alexa as you continue to load the dishwasher.

You hear a monotone ‘hi’ from the front door over the sound of thumping tails and the occasional bark. Tyler treks in from the front hall, hair slicked back from his post game shower. You arrived home a little while before him due to media responsibilities and all the extras that come with being a professional hockey player.

The frown is evident on his face and it makes your chest hurt a little, seeing him like that. “Come on Ty, it wasn’t that bad.” You say as you card your fingers through is damp hair, hoping to ease a little bit of tension, though you know it will do little to help Tyler’s mood. Normally after a 3-2 or 2-1 loss, you two will talk some real hockey if Tyler’s in the mood for it, but right now, you’re just trying to soften the blow.

“Not that bad?” He throws, but there’s no aggression in his voice, just defeat. “We lost 7-2 against the worst team in the league.” He puts his elbows on the counter and rests his face in his palms.

“Look on the bright side,” you shrug. “At least you didn’t get shutout.” Tyler raises his head and opens his mouth as if to say something, but instead he sighs and hangs his head once again. You’re aware it was a dumb thing to say, but it was a little ray of sunshine in the shitstorm that was the game. After a year and a bit of dealing with Tyler’s post-game sadness, you know there’s no use in using words to try and comfort him. You decide to let him mope as you finish tidying the kitchen and dance to your playlist, hoping to get a smile out of him.

As you begin to wipe the counters, you start to get into the music. You turn to little Gerry, who’s lying in the middle of the kitchen while he chews his elephant toy. “You’re so gorgeous, I can’t say anything to your face!” You sing very poorly. “‘Cause look at your face!” The poor pup raises his head to stare at you completely unimpressed, and then proceeds to trot to his bed in the living room. You look at Tyler as well, who’s scrolling aimlessly through his phone. “Jeez,” You scoff. “Tough crowd.”

Cash is standing in front of you excitedly, fired up by your rapid movements and excitable energy. “You wanna dance?” You coo and tap your tummy, indicating for the lab to jump up. You take hold of paws and sway back and forth to the infectious pop beat. “At least someone will dance with me,” you exaggerate, looking pointedly at Tyler, who finally looks up from his phone. “Come on, please?” You hold out your hand for him to take hold of.

“Fine,” Tyler huffs quietly, taking his time getting off of his barstool and walking over to you. A grin appears on your face, content at your ability to persuade him into doing weird yet cute domestic activities with you.

Slowly, as he twirls you around in the light of the kitchen, you see a small grin forming and you kinda want to tease him about it, but you let it go, not wanting to ruin the moment.

Soon enough a new song floods your ears. It’s weird and tropical sounding, and definitely not English. You realize that your playlist most likely ended, and therefore Spotify is taking the opportunity to play some wack shit. Instead of changing the music to something a little more your speed, you take the chance to break out your Salsa dancing. You start to sway your hips a little dramatically, moving your barefeet to the groovy beat while still holding Tyler’s hands. He’s looking at you with his brow furrowed and a completely goofy expression stuck on his face, utterly confused.

A smile grows on your lips as you’re impressed at how good your body is performing a skill you learned while wasted out of your mind on a cruise ship to the Caribbean you went on at 21. The smirk on Tyler’s face gets bigger and brighter and more genuine as he watches you move to the rhythm.

Soon enough you break into some weird form of twerking and you’re sure you look like a crazy person in your Dallas Stars shirt and paint-covered sweatpants, but you don’t even care ‘cause the only thing on your mind is making Tyler happier.

He finally throws his head back in a laugh. It’s gorgeous and bubbly and it’s a sound you’ve grown embarrassingly fond over over the past few months. You continue to shake your bum and hips somewhat sporadically until Tyler takes your hands and pulls you close to him. Your head lays on his chest and your arms wrap his waist, while he smothers you with his forearms hanging loosely over your shoulders. “I just wanted to hear you laugh.” You speak into his dress shirt.

He kisses the top of your head and then your face and then your shoulder, showing his appreciation for your effort tonight, not that it took too much out of you. “Thank you,” he whispers into your hair. The music is more melodic now and the two of you begin to slow dance around the kitchen island. It’s awfully cheesy and something straight out of a Rom-Com that you'd watch on a Saturday night while Tyler’s on a road trip, but you're not bothered.

In a matter of minutes the dogs are sticking their snouts between the two of you, begging for attention. “Okay boys, I guess it’s your turn now,” You plop down onto the floor, immediately attacked by wet noses and puppy kisses. Tyler’s right by your side, and you could not be happier with your tiny little family as you sit cross legged on the kitchen floor.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #nhl #nhl imagines #hockey fic #hockey imagine #mine #writing #nhl imagine #hockey oneshot

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sweetbyte · 6 years

Text

Title : Say When | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Pairing : Shouto Todoroki | Momo Yaoyorozu

Rated : T

Part V

“What the hell is this?”

He hears all of their breaths catch as the unmistakable voice of Bakugou is heard from the other side and his fists tighten. This is the reason they came and they’re not leaving without him. He soon hears other voices coming from the other side of the what’s left of the wall they’re hiding behind and his mind is on overdrive.

Not only are they outnumbered, but just the one was able to take out numerous proheros in the blink of an eye.

He takes a moment to glimpse at Midoriya on his side and the kid is in the same state as he. The boy though, seems to have more strength or resolve for he finally gains the energy to move. Working off of Midoriya’s motivation, Shouto is ready to back him up when he springs into action. Just as they get ready to move, they’re being held back by Iida who looks like he’s still being suffocated by the strong aura. Next to Iida, Kirishima is being held back by Momo who is also in the same state and Shouto is immediately filled with the urge to get her out and safe.

Before anyone can do anything, they hear All Might and they feel his presence in the form of another blast that seems to return their ability to breathe and move. He doesn’t know how the wall they’re standing behind is still holding up, but he’s grateful.

All Might and AFO trade words and engage in battle, if they’re going to spring into action this is the time. There is no doubt that All Might is capable, but he is outnumbered, if they cannot at least help him, they should be able to use the battle as a distraction and retrieve Bakugou. Once again, Midoriya is the first to speak up, but as soon as he does Iida is shutting him down. “Don’t even think about it, Midoriya!!”

“No, there’s a way! There’s a way we can save Bakugou and get out of here while avoiding combat!”

“What is it?” Shouto immediately questions, they have to work quick. Every second that passes is a second they can’t afford to waste.

Midoriya fills them in on the plan, and admittedly Momo thinks its good detailed plan considering the situation they’re in and what they have to work with. She’d be impressed if danger was not hovering over their heads. However, regardless of it being a good plan, it’s still risky and the purpose of her being there is to keep them from doing this very exact thing, rushing into the battlefield with a 2 second plan.

She’s grateful Iida makes the call, and even though it’s still questionable to her, she does her best to support the boys seeing as they’re all on board. If the plan is going to work they all have to work in unison and be on the same page.

They take off as soon as they are clear with the mission. Kirishima, Midoriya and Iida are propelled into the air with the help of Shouto’s quirk to make an ice ramp, as well as their own quirks. Kirishima is the key to the success of this plan, they use his quirk to break through and they use him to appeal to Bakugou.

Momo doesn’t know what she is surprised by most, Bakugou’s instant cooperation, or the fact that the plan actually worked. What she does know is that they have to get out fast. They had the element of surprise, but they have to move out quick while the enemy is still stunned or it all will be for naught. Also the quicker they get away, the faster All Might will be able to fight at full capacity.

She manages to catch one last glimpse of the group using Iida’s recipro and Bakugou’s explosives to make their escape before taking off herself, Shouto behind her urging and guiding her with a hand on her back. She knows now is the worst time to be distracted, but his hand is soft and pleasing on her back so she runs a bit more quickly to avoid it all together.

They keep going until they run into a crowd of panicked civilians being escorted to a safe zone. Knowing more running here would do nothing but create chaos, they both slow down into a brisk walk. Shouto hears his phone go off when he sees that Midoriya is calling, he lets out a relived sigh before he answers. They made it.

“Midoriya, everything ok over there?”

“Yeah, what about you guys?”

Their phone call is brief and to the point, they agree to meet back up at the train station. When he hangs up he turns to Momo to fill her in and is alert when she’s not in sight. He begins to shout her name but stops when he sees her a couple of paces back helping a civilian that must have tripped. The civilian seems struck by her kindness and can do nothing but apologize. Shouto notices the man limp and he goes over to assist them. It turns out to be a sprained ankle and they manage to move him to the side where it’s less chaotic and to a pro hero. Before they part, Momo quickly makes him a walking stick which he gratefully takes despite having help from a pro hero.

They begin to make their way to the station and he makes sure to stay close to her this time by lightly holding her wrist. He feels her jump and glances back at her, she quickly looks down and begins to apologize.

“Why are you apologizing for helping people? It’s in your nature.” She blinks and begins to turn pink at the comment and in turn he also feels the heat spread as well. “I mean, isn’t that why you want to be a hero?”

“Yes, you’re right.”

The walk to the station isn’t far but groups of pedestrians are stopping in place to monitor All Might’s battle so it makes the trek prolonged having to navigate between them. Shouto has already seen the legend in action so he’s more focused on finding his classmates. When there’s a collective gasp, however, he feels Momo stop.

Her eyes are wide and she gasps as well at the images on the monitor. It’s All Might like they’ve never seen him. He looks beaten and frail, not at all like the symbol of strength and peace he is known to be. In fact if it weren’t for the distinct costume, he might have not even recognized him. Everyone’s quiet and tense and he doesn’t know how but his grip must have slipped from Momo’s wrist to her hand because he feels her hand squeeze his lightly.

Like the rest of the crowd, they are captivated by the fight on the screen. He has faith in All Might, though, and while the fight is intense he knows All Might is going to win. Soon enough he hears everyone coming together, cheering and chanting for the number one hero in unison and it gives him the strength to return the gesture to reassure Momo.

When the fight is over, they start to move again to not get caught up with the foot traffic. With Iida’s height and Kirishima’s hair sticking out like a sore thumb, they find their classmates in no time. Shouto probably realizes he can let go of her hand, so he does having no reason to keep holding her.

They’re all pretty stunned after All Might’s fight so they don’t have much to say when they meet up, but she’s relieved that they are safe. They wait for the police and medics, who take Bakugou in their custody to interrogate and hospitalize him. He scoffs muttering that he doesn’t need a medic but is otherwise compliant, probably not having the energy to throw a fit.

After Bakugou is taken, they split to go their separate ways. Shouto ends up walking the same direction as her and she feels comfortable and content with his company. They take the same bus back, and with many civilians still in a rush, he ends up standing in front of her letting someone else have his seat.

Her hands are folded in her lap and she tries not to fiddle with them too hard or else they’ll get sweaty and that would be embarrassing. She refuses to look up knowing that Shouto is right there and rather focuses on how their knees keep brushing together, like that’s any better.

Against her better judgment, she does end up taking a quick peek and immediately looks back down. He looks flushed, probably from the crowdedness of the bus, and tired. His eyes are closed and she’s lucky, if they weren’t he would have seen her peek since his head is hanging down. He’s truly a sight, and her heart quickens embarrassingly at the tiny details of him that she’s surely committed to memory.

The ride is slow and quick at the same time and she’s keeping track of how many stops she has left. Two stops before her destination, the bus is packed and their knees are no longer brushing for he’s been pushed to the point where he’s almost completely leaning towards her. There’s a grimace on his face and she feels bad, she knows he’s uncomfortable. A couple of elderly women board the bus and there’s glances thrown around to see who is going to offer their seat.

Momo is nothing, if not an impeccably mannered youth, so she immediately starts to stand and offer her seat. She only has two more stops to go anyway. Shouto knows to shift aside allowing her to get up and help the woman to the seat, standing by in case they need his help. The senior fawns over Momo, gushing about her kindness in the similar way the man did when she helped him when he tripped.

Once the elder is seated, Momo realizes just how stuffy it is and starts to scan for an open pole. Her search is interrupted by Shouto who tells her to take his spot. “No, it’s fine! I don’t mind-“ “It’s fine Yaoyorozu, I’ll just stand behind you.” She starts to declines his offer, she doesn’t see why he should be the one to sacrifice his spot for her good deed, but he gives her a look that she just understands as ‘end of discussion’. It’s effective and it sends the strangest chills down her back as well as a big pulse in her chest....

He steps to the side allowing her to grab onto the handle overhead and before he completely moves, she tells him that they can share. She doesn’t need to hold the handle with two hands. They’re both stable enough to not really need it in the first place considering the training they get.

Holding onto to the handle is awkward, it’s too big for one hand, but just cramped enough for two so naturally their hands are smushed. She pays it no mind, only one more stop to go.

When her stop finally comes, she turns with the intention of a quick farewell but is surprised when she finds Shouto trailing right behind her. Not wanting to miss the stop, she continues her hustle to the exit. They make it just in time for as soon as they slip out, the door closes behind them.

“I didn’t know this was your stop as well, Todoroki-San.” Momo laughs nervously, at what? She doesn’t know. Maybe she’s laughing at herself. “I guess this is where we part.”

“Do you live far from here?” Shouto asks, casually canvassing the area.

“Oh no! It’s a brief walk!” Momo assures him.

“I’ll walk you home then.” Shouto nods, almost to himself, and looks at her expectantly.

“No, you really don’t have to! Like I said, the walk is not very far! It’s been a long day and I would hate to be a bother!”

“If it’s not far, then it’s no bother.”

Momo thanks him before taking the lead on the walk to her house. The walk is quiet, as expected, and she would have forgotten about his presence had it not been for his steady footsteps next to her.

They get to her house in an appropriate amount of time, she thinks. The pace was fairly quick, for she doesn’t want to waste anymore of his time but when she finally gets to the gate, she’s a bit hesitant on how to part with him.

“Thank you very much, Todoroki-kun. I appreciate the kind gesture.”

“Anyone would have done the same.” He shrugs and Momo laughs. “I’m not sure about that, but thank you nonetheless! It’s been quite a long and successful night, so I hope you make it home safe as well and get some rest.”

Shouto stares at her with an expression she can’t pinpoint, but he nods and bids her a goodnight before she can get to carried away thinking about it. She lingers at the gate until he’s out of sight and rushes into the house. She closes the door behind her, and takes a moment to realize that she’s out of breath and flushed and she’s not quite sure what to make out of the sparks that she’s feeling on her skin.

A/N: I didn’t forget about this. I’ve just been busy with work and school and I’m just questioning everything...c’est la vie. Also, I really love @littleroundpumpkin

#Say When #jots #todomomo

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letitbefiction · 6 years

Text

Iron heart and a spider shaped key- chapter 11

•••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: submission are open! Feel free to send me your requests! That’s it have fun kids!

Warning-nothing for now

Paring- Peter Parker x stark!reader

Type: fluff (and A Lot! Of it!) and angst

Word count: 2,709 (kinda short I know😂)

Previous Chapter

Next chapter

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

“PETER!” You yelled desperately, trying to wipe away the glitter from your eyes, god how you hated glitter, ever since you were a kid, you hated those to the core saying how useless and irritating they are, “PETER!” You yelled again blinking hard until you finally gained your eyesight.

You heard his laugh filling the hallway as he got closer and leaned against the door frame, he had an annoying smug face and it just angered you so much. “You little shit! Why freaking glitter!” You yelled shaking your arms and slapping them desperately trying to remove the shining plastic pieces “why the color blue?” He hummed passing you to enter your room “hey get out!” You hissed shooting him an angered look, “wait. What?” You suddenly looked at him holding a small camera your father had developed a few years ago “blu-??” You questioned, then your y/c/e eyes widened at the realization “oh my god!” You face palmed yourself frustrated hearing his laugh echo in your mind once again.

“We heard screaming wh—“ Steve, Bucky and even Bruce all stared at you in silence before bursting into a fit of laughter “ha ha yeah yeah very funny!” You huffed crossing your arms, you completely forgot about the prank war going on and now your annoying crush was in your room as your two uncles laughed at you, could this get any more embarrassing?? Apparently yes. Because moments later your father had arrived to see the two soldiers holding onto each other and his newest addiction leaning on wall all laughing at his shining daughter. “Oh my g—“ he couldn’t get a few words out before clenching to his shirt laughter rolling out of his lips “Y-You look g-good in pink..!” He managed to say between laughter, making everyone laugh even more ‘this is so..ughh!’ You thought feeling yourself blushing “all of you! Get out! Get out! GET—“ you pushed them all out embarrassingly dragging Peter by his forearm and throwing him to the hallway with the rest “OUT!” You screamed, slamming the door in the face of the four men. You walked over to the mirror and looked over yourself, not only it was glitter, it was pink! You don’t have anything against pink, except when it’s hot neon pink. You didn’t want to admit it but it was a bit funny.

“Oh come on y/n! At least tell me my score!” Peter whined, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath you opened the door once again this time in a more calmed manner, making him trip inside for he leaned on the door.

You raised your brow at his satisfied face, ‘he seems so freaking happy! Idiot!’ You thought and rolled your eyes staring at him fixing his hair “it’s a tie, two for you and two for me.” You said flatly, He smiled at you and bowed a bit “thank you princess.” “Beat it or I’ll beat you.” You hissed as he strolled out with a cocky smile to be with the rest.

“Men are so freaking dumb like is it for that specific gender or like??” You groaned holding your phone next to your ear while jumping up and down on your bed “yes. Like I told you already. We need to bitchslap them maybe it’ll fix them up faster” your friend Mona sassed making you smile before jumping off your bed and turning to the mirror near you to look over yourself once again, trying to see if you still had those pink glitter in your hair, you did, but you couldn’t do anything about it.

“Miss Stark—“ “hold on Mon” you said quickly before answering the A.I “yes F.R.I.D.A.Y?” You smiled sweetly as if it could see you “Loki asked if you could come to see him in his room.” It wasn’t a new thing for you yet you felt a bit confused for the reason this time “Uh sure! Did he say why?” “He said that he’s got information. Not regarding what. Are you planning something that might put you in danger? If so I’d have to—“ “no no! Just some little insignificant stuff.” You hurried to say “y/n/n?” You looked at your phone hearing the muffled voice of your friend “hey Mon I’d call you later ok? Got some master pranks to plan!” You cheered happily and ran through your door “sure! Tell me if I can help somehow!” She replied and with that you both hung up.

You smiled devilishly sprinting in the hallway, you passed Peter room and knocked loudly “LOKI!” You sang, you didn’t know why but you wanted Peter to hear you, to hear your excitement for someone else, to make him jealous? Why? It was a question that you’ll ask yourself later that’s for sure. “That was quick. I’m impressed.” The asgardian spoke pushing the door wide enough for you to pass, you skipped inside to his bed and slammed yourself and began swinging your legs “so...!” You trailed excited, Loki shoot his head with a small chuckle closing the door quietly “third outfit already I see. Did the glitter ruined the other—“ “you knew!?” You cut pretending to be offended, even though you did feel a bit betrayed by the god. Betrayed but not surprised.

“well..I heard the spider child and the Captain talking in the hallway.” He shrugged and grabbed his wooden chair to sit in front of you, “traitor...” you mumbled crossing your hands “true. But. I got a plan.” He held his finger in the air proudly “What?” “I have seen a few silly and harmless pranks but quite useful.” You squinted your eyes at his direction, a bit surprised that he even watched pranks, let alone YouTube, you tilted your head a bit “Huh?” confusion and interest in your voice as he smirked at you his blue eyes crinkling mischievously “Take a plastic wrap and put it over your room door, then scream at him to get to your room and play with his feelings saying that playing a prank like that is so mean and you hate him and yell at him to get to your room—“ “first of all, it sounds lame but very useful” you spoke honestly, judgingly but honest “and second of all. What prank?” You moved your hand in the famous ‘boi’ movement, to that, Loki had to roll his eyes “Pretend as if he had placed a spider in your room.” He continued but fear creeped upon you already feeling the small legs walking on the back of your neck “A spider? Like an actual spider? Loki I—“ “no you idiot. Pretend as if there was a spider!” He cut shaking his head desperately “Ohh! Ok then.” You shrugged with a tight smirk before continuing “So like when to do it?” You asked standing up excitement rose beneath your feet “tomorrow afternoon. He’ll be back from his schooling.” Loki mirrored your action and stood above you with a brotherly grin “He’ll be completely distracted so that’ll be great!.” You cheered clasping your hands together before holding them close to your chest with a large smile “Ok! Cool! Uh..I just need to sneak the—“ you started planing but loki cut your thought with a reassuring smile “got it for you already.” He smirked and within a second the plastic wrap was falling to your hands “Damn you are so petty! I love it” you cheered with twinkling eyes “i am not. Now tell me, do you like pink now?” He smirked knowing you’d get annoyed and leave “Shut up!” You punched him playfully before spinning and walking out the door “See you around barbie!” He teased and you flipped him off walking to the elevator. Why did Dad had to show them those damn pictures?! Right. To embarrass me.

You gladly made your way to your room without being caught, he deserves it, you kind of wished you could do another thing just to mess with him more, just to wipe that stupid, beautiful, annoying smug off his face.

Resting on your bed your slowly remembered why were you so mad earlier, he deserved being punched, he deserved being rude to, he was an idiot, he is an idiot. ‘Told you I’d get you out of my sight.’ Ugh what a jerk.

A few of intense social media hours later you got a bit hungry, your stomach practically shouted at you for forgetting to eat, you strolled into the lonely kitchen and made yourself a bowl of cereal, walking into the pantry a devilish and maybe a bit dumb idea came to your mind. You grabbed Peter’s favorite cereal (knowing it was his as he had a new number on the package) you opened the plastic bad multiple times looking over your shoulder as you ran a knife almost ripping it completely, you pulled the crinkling bag out of the colored cardboard box and flipped it in such way the the open side would be in the button, then opening the other side as well. You placed the box in it’s place and returned quickly to your bowl that sat on the counter. ‘Hmm what if I’ll buy itching power..that should work. Do we still have some from last year? Maybe in my room?—‘ you let yourself wonder as you munched on the delicious crunchy flakes, “hey princess..” Peter cocky voice brought you back to reality, you couldn’t help but role your eyes at him “don’t.” You hissed taking another tablespoon to your mouth, you watched his movements, the way he smiled looking away from you “why not?” He taunted opening the fridge door, the dimmed white light shown on his features ‘damn..’ you looked at aw, struggling to understand why would you crush on this cocky idiot. “Because I’m not a princess and say that again and I’ll take Bucky’s knifes and stab you.” You said aggressively, jumping off the stool you sat on and placing the bowl gently in the sink “yeah ok.” He said his voice dripping with honey “what. You think I can’t do it?” He kept silent throwing a green apple between his hands, he strolled closer to you a grin on his face you felt your breath hitching in your throat nervously as your eyes met, you crossed your arms and tilted your head a bit “try me spiderboy.” You hissed and walked away, slightly pushing him off. ‘What has gotten into that boy!’

“You sure about this Ned?” Peter asked running both hands through his hair, Ned hummed in reply before continuing “Girls either hate or love arrogant boys.” A small quiet moment sat between them, million and one thoughts attacked Peter’s mind, god he didn’t want to do it. “Let’s hope she’d hate it.” He muttered slamming himself into his computer chair, “Why do you want her to hate you again?” Ned asked confusion laced in his voice “Because..” Peter started, even he couldn’t quite explain every variable in this acquisition “she’s in constant danger and being spiderman’s girlfriend won’t help her...” He finally answered leaning forward on his knees, Ned sat across him with his silver computer on his lap, typing quickly what his brunette friend asked a few moments before “but what if she’ll be Peter’s girlfriend?” The fast clicking stopped as Ned raised his eyes to scan his friend’s stressed face “Than her dad would kill Peter.” He chuckled nervously, even tho he knew this might be an over reaction he couldn’t help but agreeing, practically expecting something like that. “So..google?” “Yep.”

You stormed into your room and slammed the door slamming yourself into the delicate, fluffy covers of your bed, “goddamn it!” You huffed into your pillow.

The rest of the night you spent being on tumblr like a typical teenager, shipping two characters from your show as if your life is depended on it and even writing a few poems into your small diary. The lighted screen eventually turned off as you closed your eyes at rest, mind still dreaming of a normal life, an easy life, where you’d be with that annoying crush of yours.

“Morning Pep!” You exhaled happily looking over to the neat character who walked into the room quite surprised to see you there, taking another sip from your coffee and continuing to move your thumb over the Phone, it was 10 am, all of the avengers were too busy for you once again and training felt like a death wish right now with all your hurting muscles so you’d rather stay in the common room and enjoy your morning.

Rays of sunshine went through the slightly dimmed glass window, heating up the blanket next to you and lighting the room and your lazy outfit beautifully, “hey honey..why are you home?” Pepper delicate voice was brought to your ears and you immediately turned to her with a sweet smile “Because I live here..?” You giggled and took a picture of your mug and the half down of your outfit. “No I meant—“ she began but the innocent and confused face of yours made her change her sentence “where’s Tony?” She asked passing near you and placing a small kiss on your head as you spoke “My dad? Probably in his office, or workshop, or with Banner..” you smiled briefly before starting to choose filters for your picture “ask F.R.I.D.A.Y “ you shrugged cluelessly, you could have interrogate her like the usual you, but usual you is not morning you.

The rest of the day was boring, passing through same rooms, social media, cooking lunch for the team, social media, putting itching powder in Peter’s mattress, social media, talking to a few trainees, social media once again and so on. You always felt not “there” always looking through a one sided window, ‘god when is 2 already?’ You complained to yourself, “1 PM!?!” You grunted looking at your clock “ughhh!!” You yelled dropping to your knees desperate, bored and ok the verge of losing your mind.

“PETER BENJAMIN PARKER!” You screamed through the speakers, the poor boy almost had a heart attack while walking on the white marble, his tired eyes shot open and rushed to scan the room “this!” You squealed scared “is the worst prank ever!” You almost cried and he couldn’t help but sprint to your room, thank god for acting classes.

“I can’t believe you!—ahh!!” You screamed, hearing him shuffle in the hallway running so fast it actually sounds like he cared. Pff as if. You stood on your bed and recorded everything, and just like that, his face was stuck behind the door as his feet ran inside quickly, he fell forward face first, the clear material stuck to his features! You fell to your mattress, holding your stomach as tears forming in your eyes and your laughter echoing in the whole compound.

He struggled to remove it at first and immediately stood on his feet, your smile grew bigger and bigger at the sight of his struggle, but eventually you helped him out feeling a bit mercy knowing what is yet to come to him.

“Ok ok! Stop moving jeez!” You exclaimed with rolling laughter escaping your pursed lips, you slowly removed the plastic mask off of him just to reveal a frown “not funny.” “Very funny.” You argued you raised your finger with a smirk befor he continued, his eyes were filled with secrecy and worry “I actually thought something happened to you..” he muttered taking a step closer to you “you don’t care and you know it..” you said coldly and took another step closer to him closing the distance between the two of you, a moment of silence stayed between you as you stared into each other eyes, you felt the golden spark hitting you like a shining bullet, why was your heart pounding so loudly? Was it yours or his? His cologne was interfering you mind with it’s usual overthinking,. “you don’t know that.” He whispered, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he did “You don’t show it.” Was all you said, shooting him an empty look.

He left a few minutes of unsettling quite later, a lot of words were left unsaid, a lot of actions were left undone and a few feelings were kept hidden away.

Tag list (send an ask if you want to be tagged here!)💕 @pieceofhamiltrash @tom-parkers-girl @all-fandomthings @thankyouspiderr

@sterolinelover13 @fiesty5sos

@jilyloveswolfstar @floodinginstars

@dayswithoutcoffee @lafayettes-baguettes-1 @purpstraw

@spacequeenstuff @awesomefandomsunited @for-my-mind

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