#and i will stare at the piece again for a minute
Text
flutter
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
snapshots masterlist
summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?
word count: 3.5k
a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.
“Shit.”
You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?
Over the last few months, there’d been changes.
Some subtle and some not so subtle.
“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”
She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.
“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”
During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.
“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”
You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.
One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.
Not until now.
“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”
“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”
“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”
Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.
It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.
“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.
Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.
After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.
He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.
You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.
Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”
“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”
One stern glare from her had shut you right up.
“Fine.”
Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.
You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.
With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.
As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.
“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”
“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”
“You’re bigger!”
With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”
She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.
“You look different. I mean, you look great—”
“Ellie?”
“Yeah?”
“Just shut up and eat.”
“Deal.”
She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner.
“You get your fractions homework done?”
“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”
Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”
“Sure.”
As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.
“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.
“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”
“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.
Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”
Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”
“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”
“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”
“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”
Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.
Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.
And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.
In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.
You bite back a small sigh.
By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.
“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”
“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”
You hear a chair scrape against the tile.
“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”
“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.
Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.
He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair.
The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.
Uncomfortable.
Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.
“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”
“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?”
He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”
You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”
Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.
“Mhm,” is all he says.
Your smile falters.
It’s the middle of August.
The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.
“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”
He’s met with silence.
Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”
Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”
“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”
Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.
“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”
Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”
“Huh?”
“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”
Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”
“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”
“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.
“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten.
“What are you afraid of?”
Joel almost laughs.
He doesn’t know where to start.
He’s afraid of everything.
“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”
“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”
“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”
“Joel—”
“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”
Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.
“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”
“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.
“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”
He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”
“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”
Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home.
“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.
“What does it fucking look like, man?”
“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”
Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.
“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”
Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”
Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.
He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.
He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.
He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.
Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.
Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.
He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.
The man you both needed.
Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?
He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.
“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”
“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice.
Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.
Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Until the minutes turn into hours.
Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains.
Until he finally feels that little flutter again.
He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.
He’d just felt the baby’s movement.
There’s a sudden shift.
Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.
His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.
Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.
With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.
Maybe his brother’s right.
Maybe he will be just fine.
divider credit to @saradika 🤍
#tw pregnancy#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x pregnant reader#joel miller one shot#joel miller drabble#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#fic: snapshots
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader
Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.
Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending
“Are you married?”
He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.
“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.
He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.
The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.
It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?
He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.
No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.
He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.
I’m sorry.
The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.
Please stay.
The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.
Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.
He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.
Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.
His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.
Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.
I miss you so much.
but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.
That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.
You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.
He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.
The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.
You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.
“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.
“Hey.” He mumbles.
The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.
Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...
He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.
“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.
because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.
It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.
“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”
“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”
“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”
“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”
“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”
“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”
“Anything else you want to say?”
“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”
“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”
He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.
Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.
“My pleasure.”
a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j
#cod imagine#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#simon riley imagine#cod x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader
251 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Love Worth Fighting For ~ JJK
⤜WORD COUNT: 2.7K
⤜GENRE: Established relationships, angst to fluff, a little bit of toxic from Jungkook, feelings of being unwanted/unneeded
⤜PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - April 2024
⤜MASTERLIST
The soft glow of the city lights spilt into the dimly lit apartment, casting shadows around the apartment as you stood by the window, phone clutched tightly in your hand. The familiar buzz of anticipation tingled in your veins as you waited for Jungkook's voice to fill the silence that had settled between you both. He'd been on tour for what felt like forever now and you were finally deciding that you wanted to talk to him.
Usually, the two of you would stick to texting on occasion since you knew how busy he was and you didn't want him to think of you as "clingy" but the more you thought about it the more you realised it wasn't "clingy" to want to hear from your boyfriend. You stared out at the city and watched as couples together laughed and played together in the streets. You missed Jungkook and you weren't afraid to let him know that anymore.
When the two of you had started your relationship you'd been completely understanding of everything but as time went by and you saw how his band members kept in contact with their partners you wanted more from him. You at least wanted to speak to him more when he was away, to feel a little less lonely than you did right now.
When he finally answered, the warmth you'd been craving dissolved into icy silence, there was now happy greeting from your boyfriend, just a grumbled "What is it?" as he finally answered the phone to you after what felt like the tenth phone call.
"I miss you, Jungkook," you whispered, your voice trembling, anxiety beginning to bubble up inside of you as you thought about his reaction to it. Something you never should have had to fear with a boyfriend and yet here you were, second guessing everything you said and did.
"I miss us." You finished. There was a pause on the other end of the line, a pregnant silence that stretched between you like a taut wire.
"I'm busy, Yn," he said, his voice cold and distant, cutting through you like a dull knife that wanted to hurt you as much as it could but as slowly as humanly possible. This was nothing like the Jungkook you'd fallen in love with. Maybe he was tired or stressed but it didn't give him a reason to talk to you like this. The two of you needed to talk like adults and communicate what the other was feeling.
"You know how it is." He mumbled once again, his patience growing thin and your heart clenched at his words, the ache of longing swelling within your chest.
"But I need you," you pleaded, your voice cracking as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.
"I need you here with me." But before you could utter another word, the line went dead, leaving you standing alone in the suffocating silence of your shared apartment. You couldn't believe he would even do this to you after you'd done everything you could to support him.
You'd moved from your home country to be with him in Korea for the brief periods he was home, you upended your entire life because he had asked you to but he couldn't find five minutes in his day to even let you know he was okay?
For hours, you sat by the window, lost in the labyrinth of your own thoughts as tears streaked down your cheeks. How could he do this to you? Sighing to yourself you made your way to the wardrobes and began to rifle through the drawers until you found what you were looking for, your passport ready to be used. If Jungkook thought you were going to stick around any longer to be treated as nothing better than a side piece then he was sorely mistaken.
Without a second thought about it, you dragged out some bags, your stomach churning as you folded and placed everything into your suitcase, each item weighing down on you as a reminder of everything you were leaving behind. You knew you couldn't take much with you right away but you could ship everything else before you went for a flight.
You couldn't continue to live in the shadow of a love that had grown cold and distant, and you refused not to listen to your own heart anymore. So you zipped up your bags with trembling hands and sighed to yourself, looking around at the now practically empty wardrobe and began to make your way out of the wardrobe and to your laptop, you needed to get a flight as soon as possible to get out of there.
As Jungkook stepped into your apartment, weary from the road and longing for the familiar embrace of you, he was met with an unsettling emptiness that sent a shiver down his spine. The flight had been awful and he was ready to crawl into bed beside you but for some reason the air seemed heavier, charged with an unspoken tension that prickled at his senses.
"Yn?" He called out, hearing nothing back except from the sound of a dripping tap in the kitchen, the house was freezing, as though you'd been gone for a while but it was 3 in the morning. You had no where to be at three in the morning.
"Babe. I get you're mad but I'm back now, I'm ready to talk about it....I'm sorry!" He cried out, throwing his keys down onto the coffee table when he realised that there were things missing. Photos of the two of you were ripped from the frames. His heart quickened its pace as he called out your name again, the sound falling flat against the silence of the apartment. Panic clawed at the edges of his mind as he searched every corner of the place, his footsteps echoing in the emptiness.
You had left him.
The realisation struck him like a blow to the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs as he staggered backward, his world crumbling around him. Images of your arguments flashed before his eyes, each word spoken in anger etched into his memory. The last time you'd spoken to him, you'd been begging for him to talk and he just ignored you. Choosing to hang up the phone and deal with his stress alone rather than talking it out with you.
Regret washed over him in waves, mingling with the bitter taste of remorse as he sank to his knees, his hands trembling with the weight of his own guilt. How could he have been so blind? How could he have let you slip through his fingers without even realising it? The two of you were meant to be, he knew that, anyone with eyes knew that and yet he'd let you slip away without giving it a second thought.
He had been selfish, neglectful, and cruel, driving away the one person who had loved him unconditionally. Tears blurred his vision as he whispered your name into the emptiness, a desperate plea for forgiveness that hung heavy in the air. But deep down, he knew that mere words could never mend the shattered pieces of their love. As he sank to his knees, the weight of his regret crushing him like a vice, he knew that he had lost you but he knew that he was going to do anything within his power to get you back.
The small café buzzed with the gentle hum of conversation, the soft aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of freshly baked pastries. You moved with ease behind the counter, your movements graceful as you prepared drinks and chatted with customers at the same time. You'd been home for almost a month now and you'd started a new life, you'd gotten a job and decided that this was your fresh start with everything.
As you worked, a group of old ladies settled themselves at a nearby table, their curious eyes lingering on you with a mixture of interest and intrigue. With mischievous twinkle in your eyes, you approached their table, a warm smile playing at the corners of your lips. You knew that all of them had been debating your arrival back home for weeks now and you wanted to tease them a little on it.
Not even your own family knew what had happened between you and Jungkook. You didn't want to risk a huge public blow out, you just wanted time alone and clearly he did too.
He could have been home from tour for almost a week now meaning he knew you were gone and you hadn't received a single call or a text asking where you were. Meaning...he didn't care.
"Good morning, ladies!" you greeted cheerfully, your voice carrying over the quiet murmur of the café.
"What can I get for you today?" The old ladies exchanged knowing glances before one of them spoke up, her voice tinged with curiosity.
"Yn, dear, we couldn't help but notice that you're back home. What brings you back to our little town?" Your smile widened as you leaned in closer, a playful glint in your eyes.
"Ah, you know how it is, ladies," you replied with a wink. "A girl needs a break from the hustle and bustle of the big city every now and then. Besides, who can resist the charm of our quaint little town?" You smirked at them, you hated small towns where everyone knew everyone's business, you preferred being alone in a big city where no one spoke to you. Where you'd never see your boyfriend. Or where everyone was so rude toward you for simply walking too slow or even too fast.
The old ladies chuckled at your response, their eyes twinkling with amusement as they nodded in agreement.
"You tease us too much, you can't blame us for wanting to know what happened," one of them said with a smile. Your heart tightened in your chest, you knew everyone would have their own theories to it but you'd tried not to think about it too much.
"But we can't help but wonder if there's more to the story than you're letting on." Your grin widened as you leaned back, placing a hand on your hip and shaking your head at them all.
"Oh, you know me, always keeping secrets," You teased, your laughter ringing out like a melody in the cosy confines of the café.
"We keep secrets." One of them smirked and you shook your head,
"My lips are sealed. Now, how about I whip up some of my famous cinnamon rolls to sweeten the mystery?" With a chorus of delighted nods, the old ladies eagerly accepted your offer, their laughter mingling with the warm chatter of the café. And as you disappeared into the kitchen, a sense of contentment washed over you. You liked being back but it was getting harder to hide the truth from people and a part of you felt lost without Jungkook. You missed what you used to have, part of you longed to go back but Jungkook had made it clear by never messaging that things were over between you both.
The soft chime of the bell signalled the arrival of a new customer, and you had flour all over your hands so you called out with practised ease,
"Welcome! Feel free to take a seat wherever you like." You called out without looking up, finally washing off your hands in the sink but as murmurs and gasps rippled through the café, your curiosity piqued, and you lifted your gaze, only to find Jungkook standing there, his presence like a sudden thunderclap in the peaceful atmosphere of the café.
Shock and anger surged through your veins, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled to contain the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. How dare he show up here, uninvited and unwelcome, after everything that had happened between you? What was he even thinking? Someone could see him, photograph him and it'd be all over the news.
Yet, under the anger you felt toward him, a part of you couldn't deny the flutter of excitement that danced in the depths of your chest. Despite your hurt, there was still a part of you that longed for his presence, that yearned for the warmth of his touch and the familiarity of his voice.
For a moment, your eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, each word left unspoken hanging heavy in the air between you. And then, with a defiant tilt of your chin, you turned away, busying yourself with the tasks at hand, determined not to let him see the effect his unexpected appearance had on you.
Jungkook smiled at a few of the people in the cafe, sending a wink at the old ladies who were all smirking at him. They'd been the ones letting him know where you were. He'd been in your hometown for over three days now searching for you, your family refused to reveal anything to him so he went searching. Jungkook made his way into the kitchens and you sighed a little, refusing to look at him.
"Why are you here, Jungkook?" You asked, your voice soft yet tinged with a hint of steel.
"After everything that's happened, why would you come looking for me?" Jungkook's gaze never wavered as he reached out to gently cup your trembling hands in his own, his touch sending a shiver down your spine.
"Because I can't imagine my life without you, Yn," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, he'd planned everything he wanted to say to you but all of that had flown from his mind the second he saw you here.
"I've made mistakes, more than I care to admit, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right." A tear slipped down your cheek as you struggled to contain the tumult of emotions swirling within you.
"But what about your career, your dreams?" You asked, your voice trembling with uncertainty.
"You can't give any of that up. You're just bored now you're back from tour." You mumbled at him, harshly and he didn't blame you.
"I'd give it up if it meant being with you," You scoffed at him, turning around to face him and you saw him properly for the first time. Bags under his eyes, his hair a mess, facial hair even growing, he was letting himself go.
Jungkook shook his head, his eyes never leaving yours. It didn't matter if his dreams were in Korea, if you were here then he was here too. Being away from you for so long had given him clarity that he knew he didn't want that life without you.
"You are my dream, Yn," he said, his voice unwavering. Gasps sounded inside of the cafe as onlookers took int he scene in front of them, all of them interested to see what was going to happen.
"Without you, none of it means anything. I would give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant I got to keep you by my side." And in that moment, as the weight of his words settled upon you, you felt something shift within your heart. With a trembling breath, you reached out to brush away the tears that stained his cheeks. It was going to take a lot of work to get back to being together the way you used to be but if he was willing to work then so were you.
"I'm tired of running, Jungkook. I'm tired of being second best to your job. I get that you love it but...I need more," you whispered, your voice barely a whisper in the hushed stillness of the café.
"But if we're going to do this, it has to be different this time. We have to do better, together." A smile tugged at the corners of Jungkook's lips as he pulled you into his embrace, the warmth of his touch a beacon of hope in the darkness.
"I promise, baby," he whispered against your hair, his voice a fervent prayer.
"I'll spend the rest of my days proving it to you." He whispered, prepared to do whatever it took to keep you in his life.
It had been a month of you both alone in your home town and you were finally prepairing to go back to Seoul together, your things were packed and shipped but you were saying goodbye to everyone you'd grown to know in the cafe.
"If he hurts you again, you come get me." Red - one of the elderly ladies - said as she looked at you, arching a brow. Jungkook had grown to know all of them on a personal level but he knew they were all looking out for you,
"Yes, ma'am." You promised, hugging her tightly as Jungkook smirked from the doorway, happy that you'd made friends.
"You better bring her back more too! I want you both here for more 80th Birthday party!" She screams at him and he chuckles.
"I promise we'll be here," He told her, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you into his embrace.
@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver
#bts#bts x reader#bts imagine#bts imagines#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#jungkook imagines#jeon jungkook#jeon jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook imagine#jeon jungkook imagines
197 notes
·
View notes
Text
toasty
sometimes, it isn't just the weather which is comfortably warm.
sometimes, it can be one person, because of another person, as well.
gojo satoru x fem!reader; pre-relationship; gojo is a menace; you're a miniature circuit breaker; gojo calls you 'cookie'; mentions of food; i repeat: gojo is a MENACE; 610 wc; *empties a big container labelled 'fluff' into this fic*
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be treated as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
divider by @/benkeibear; pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this; jjk isn't mine
"do you like that dress?"
you shouldn't look this surprised, no. hell no.
you know gojo's been sitting beside you for the better part of the last fifteen minutes. and you know he has a rather sharp set of eyes, with or without his 'six eyes' activated— yet you do look surprised. terribly so— and the man wonders, what made you think he would not notice you staring at the bright piece of cloth in the shop window.
particularly when you've left your favourite ice cream on the brink of melting and falling on your uniform— not that it'll make it any dirtier though; the curses from before have done a splendid job of it...
stealing a bite from your cone, gojo plops back into his seat. the grin threatening to bloom on his lips wilts when he sees the surprise turn into something shocked, maybe even scandalised in your features— eyes wider, brows higher, lower jaw hanging lower...
he lets the grin form anyway. "what? your ice cream was melting— i cannot let the money i spent to buy it, go to waste now, can i?"
you snap your mouth close in less than an instant. then open it again to take quite a large bite from your ice cream, brows scrunching and eyes screwing close— the brain freeze gojo was in wait for, for you to suffer from, never comes.
you take a second bite, even bigger.
some part of him shrivels, disappointed— before it swells up again, at the narrowed-eye look you send his way— before it dries up a second time, when your gaze returns to the dress from before.
the fabric looks extremely dull to the sorcerer now. he kicks your leg under the table. biting back a grin when you look back at him, lips in an annoyed little frown.
although it doesn't take too long to become a smile. tired, yes. but a fond one all the same— you've always been too soft to him, haven't you?
he repeats his ask, "do you like that dress?"
"i..." your gaze drops to your ice cream for a beat. then rises. a warmth settles into your cheeks, visible and adorable. "i kind of like that dress. it looks pretty." a beat. your lips part in a tentative smile. "what do you think, gojo-san? will i look good in it?"
the addressed man pauses.
but it is not because he has to decide on an answer— the answer is a yes. a resounding yes— still, he doesn't find the voice to say the word, the monosyllable repeated over and over and over again in his brain—
"you always look beautiful to me, cookie. no matter what you wear."
the shocked, scandalised expression makes a return to your face, not a moment later than when the words leave his mouth.
only to be shoved away when you attempt to take such a huge bite of your melting ice cream, the chocolate chip treat ends up caking a big portion of the lower half of your face— from your nose and extending till your chin.
gojo doesn't bother to hold back his laughter this time— its loudness increasing at the resulting wrinkle in your nose when he reaches over to scoop up a bit of the mess with his fingers, then licks it off them—
"you're a disgusting man," you mutter, voice so mortified and frail as your gaze keeps jumping from his hand to his blindfolded eyes.
something curls up inside the sorcerer. the sensation growing worse, growing better, the longer he stares at this precious little face you've made:
"and you're a cookie— my choco chip cookie!"
the reader is an mcb— reasons for which, i hope, u all hv understood by now 🤭🤭
masterlist
#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#satoru x reader#satoru x you#jjk x reader#jjk x you#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#kit posts 📝
152 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul
[Chapter 56]
<< First | < Previous | Next >
AO3 Link
-
Nia and Tobias fly across the Obsidian Sea, and reunite with a couple of familiar faces!
-
The next day dawns cold and clear. As Nia and Tobias make the walk to the flying outpost, Nia is quickly woken up by the delicate frost coating the leaf-littered forest floor and the foliage they have to pass through. Her fur feels soaked through within minutes and her paws are chilled, but the brisk pace of the walk helps to warm her up. Well, that and walking a bit closer to Tobias. The charmander seems equally disgruntled about the approaching winter, but he doesn’t snap at Nia for bumping into him once or twice as she leeches off his bubble of warmth.
The sun is just starting to cut through the trees in rays of orange light, melting the frost, when Nia spots the tall structure of the flying outpost ahead of them. She picks up the pace, trotting ahead until it’s fully in sight in the middle of a small clearing. Something like canvas has been tied down to block the open gaps of the structure, acting as makeshift walls to cut off powerful gusts of wind. They billow and blow in the breeze like sails, flapping loudly.
There are only a few Pokemon waiting near the bottom of the structure, but Nia’s eyes lock onto one in particular, large and maroon with a fluffy mane of white.
“Fliss!”
The braviary’s head lifts from where she’d been talking to a smaller, bright orange Pokemon. Even with the intimidating scar where her right eye should be, the way Fliss’ face lights up is nothing short of adorable. “Nia! Well, I’ll be! You looking for a ride?”
“Yes!” Nia slows to a stop in front of the braviary, bouncing on her toes. Both because she’s excited to see the large flying type again and to stay warm. “Are you flying today?”
“Sure am! A little frost ain’t gonna stop me. Where’s that partner of yours? You two still a team?”
Nia turns, just in time for Tobias to emerge from the brush with a sour look. He takes a moment to shake melted frost from his foot. “Here. Just hating winter.”
Fliss laughs and jerks her chin up at the pieces of canvas. “You ain’t the only one. Half our crew’s hiding away until the sun comes out to warm everything up.”
“They’ll have to face the winter eventually,” a new voice says, crisp and even. The bird Fliss had been speaking with before steps closer, and Nia can’t help staring at his feathers a bit longer than is probably polite. He’s a bright orange, the color ending in flame-like tapers and fading into a light gray underbelly. His wings and tail are a striking black at their tips, and streaks of bright yellow band his tail feathers and ring his eyes and beak. He looks like the embodiment of fire, just a head or so taller than Nia and Tobias.
“This ball of sunshine is Comet,” Fliss says, amused. “If you’re lookin’ for a long flight, then he’ll be joining us for the trip.”
Tobias frowns, looking between Fliss and the new Pokemon. “Why?”
Fliss and Comet exchange a loaded look. Then, Fliss sighs. “Was hoping you wouldn’t ask, little flame. We’ve just been flyin’ in pairs lately. Extra safety and all that.”
Nia blinks. “Safety?”
“The winds are more volatile than they used to be,” Comet says. “I promise you we can handle it. It’s just a precaution.”
Nia can’t help wondering what had to happen for such a precaution to be put into place. She shuffles worriedly on her feet, glancing at Tobias. He doesn’t look any more soothed than she feels. No wonder, considering they’ll have to fly over the Obsidian Sea again. An accident over the open ocean is basically a death sentence for a charmander.
“We need to head back to Ghatha,” Nia says, locking eyes with Fliss. “So we would need to go over the ocean. Are you sure it’s safe?”
Nia knows this is technically Fliss’ livelihood, but she trusts the flying type not to lie to her just to make some extra money. Not about this.
The braviary ducks her head in a bow. “I’m as confident as a victini in my flight. But if ya aren’t comfortable, you could always find some water transport.”
“Though the ocean is becoming just as unstable,” Comet mutters.
Tobias shakes his head. “No. No, we’re on a tight schedule. I’ll be fine.”
Nia wonders if he’s reassuring her or himself.
“Neither Felicity or I have had any incidents,” Comet says. “Going together is just extra assurance. New protocol.”
Nia exchanges an uncertain look with Tobias. Normally she wouldn’t want to risk it, but they don’t really have any other option. They need to talk to Will as soon as possible, and using water transport would take far too long.
“We’ll fly,” Tobias says, deciding for the both of them. “If you’ll take us.”
“Gladly!”
The cost for travel is a bit higher than it was before—to compensate two ‘mons’ time rather than just one, Fliss explains—but luckily August gave them more funds than he’d thought they’d need. Tobias splits the payment between the two flying types, dropping the coins into the little pouch tied around Fliss’ leg and the small bag tied to Comet’s back.
Finally, it’s time to fly.
“Welcome aboard!”
Fliss crouches low, belly brushing the grass, to let them crawl on. Tobias doesn’t hesitate before taking a firm grip of the bird’s feathers and pulling himself up onto her back. He offers a hand, and Nia gives him a smile of thanks before letting him help her up. She sits behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and grateful for his sturdy warmth.
“Smoother start than last time,” Fliss teases. “Ready to fly?”
Tobias nods. “Ready.”
Nia takes a deep breath. “As ready as I can be.”
Fliss laughs. “That’s what I like to hear! Just hold on tight now. Promise we’ll get ya to Ghatha safely.”
With that, Fliss pushes off the ground with powerful legs, giant wings beating hard to get into the air. She bobs once, then slowly lifts up and up and up. They rise past the outpost and the trunks of the trees, until they’re surging past leaves and into a sky that’s a robin’s egg blue.
Immediately, the wind buffets them, cold and biting.
Nia feels her stomach drop. She ducks her head into the warmth of Tobias’ shoulder, clinging tightly to him. She feels more than hears him sigh, but he doesn’t argue, just patting her arm twice once before holding once more to Fliss’ feathers.
Fliss rises higher and higher until she catches the air current she wants, then levels out to ride the wind. While the bone-deep fear clutching at Nia’s gut doesn’t disappear entirely, it does ease a bit once their jerky flight smooths out.
Nia almost wants to peek out at the world, recalling the brief glimpses of gorgeous, breathtaking views from last time. Plus, Tobias clearly loves this whole experience. It’d be fun to share it with him.
But as soon as she squints open an eye and catches sight of the sprawling forest below, looking as small as a carpet of moss, and the sheer openness of the sky around them, terror grabs her again.
She buries her head back into Tobias’ shoulder, taking deep breaths of his soothing scent to calm herself.
Nia still can’t remember if she’d flown before as a human. She knows planes are a thing, but her memory has only returned in bits and pieces. Much of her history is still blank, like a tapestry that’s more moth-eaten holes than actual thread. Was she afraid of heights in the human world too? Or is her body’s fighting type nature really enough to put such fear into her?
It’s hard to describe the feeling, especially as it engulfs her and makes her feel lightheaded. It’s like as much as she knows they’re (probably) safe with Fliss and Comet taking care of them, her body trembles with the knowledge that if she fell from here, she’d likely die. Her chest feels tight, her heart pounding hard against Tobias’ spine, and panic simmers quietly in the back of her mind.
“You breathing back there?” Tobias asks, head turning enough for Nia to catch the words.
Nia takes a gulp of air. Then another, slower, to try and follow his unspoken suggestion. Deep breaths. Just don’t think about it. You’re fine. Tobias is here, and Fliss is here, and if something goes wrong then Comet is here too.
“C-Can you talk?” Nia asks.
“Uh. I guess? About what?”
“Anything. I-I just need a distraction. Um. What kind of Pokemon is Comet?”
“Oh. He’s a talonflame. Fire and flying type, like a charizard. I don’t know too much about them, but he’s the final evolution in a three-stage form, and I can tell he’s fast. He keeps having to pull himself back so he doesn’t leave Fliss behind.”
Nia can’t bring herself to answer, breath stolen from her chest, so she nods.
Tobias keeps talking. “Uh. I think the first form is called a fletchling? They’re little things, about Junie’s size. Don’t remember the middle form’s name, though. Um…they’re probably pretty warm, if they’re anything like other fire types. That’s likely why he’s comfortable flying so early in the day, when it’s still cold.”
Comet must catch onto what Tobias is doing and what they’re discussing, because when Tobias starts running out of tidbits to share, Nia hears the talonflame’s voice shout to them over the wind.
“Talonflame are certainly a warmer species. We even create fire with our feathers, rather than a flame sac like most fire types. We produce an oil that’s flammable, and generate heat and friction through flapping our wings to ignite.”
“Watch,” Tobias says, tapping Nia’s arm.
Nia whines, but peeks open an eye in the direction of Comet’s voice.
Comet is sailing easily along on an air current, framed by blue sky. Upon seeing that he has her attention, he flaps his wings—once, twice, three times—and small embers spark to life from his feathers, leaping behind him to be carried away by the wind.
Nia’s curiosity just barely wins out over her fear. She lifts her head to watch more clearly as Comet does it again. He flaps once, hard, and flames burst to life around his wings, hot enough that Nia feels a brief wave of warmth. Then he shoots forward, zipping past Fliss.
“Show-off!” Fliss shouts, laughter in her voice.
“She was curious,” Comet counters, voice now on their other side.
Nia turns to look at him, mouth open to ask questions about how they can choose when to ignite, and if fletchlings can do that too, and a hundred other things—
But she catches sight of the Silenfroar Mountains behind the talonflame, remembers where she is, and icy fear grips her again. She buries her face with a whimper, feeling pathetic.
Tobias sighs.
“Want me to take a turn on distraction duty?” Fliss calls.
Someone must give her the affirmative, because she starts talking. “Did ya know that there’s another variant of braviary out there? Psychic and flying type! I met one once, and he could blast enough psychic energy to knock out a wailord. I can pack a punch myself, so I was mostly just jealous that he could use his powers to write! This old gal is forever cursed with illiteracy.”
“You can read,” Comet says, dry.
“Half-illiteracy, then!”
“That’s not how it works.”
Nia giggles despite herself, grateful for her travel companions as they fall into more animated conversation. Like this, if Nia keeps her eyes closed and takes deep breaths, if she lets the breeze soothe her and imagines she’s just on a windy hillside rather than hundreds of feet in the air, it’s not too terrible. Although Nia wishes she could whip out her blanket without risk of it blowing away. It’s much colder than the last time they flew.
The three Pokemon keep the conversation flowing, shifting from one topic to another, until Fliss finally asks why they’re returning to Ghatha so soon.
“We’re actually going to Stonebrook, a bit south of Ghatha,” Tobias says. “We’re meeting someone there.”
“Oh, Stonebrook!” Fliss crows. “Nice little place. Quaint. We could drop ya off there if you’d prefer, for a bit of extra poke to compensate our time.”
Tobias makes a thoughtful sound that rumbles in his chest. “How much extra?”
“Let’s say 150.”
Tobias mulls it over, and Nia can feel him turn his head as if to get her input.
“Whatever you think is best,” Nia says into his shoulder.
Tobias hesitates for a moment longer before turning forward again. “100 poke and you’ve got a deal.”
Fliss laughs, loud and booming even as the wind snatches the sound away. “Haggler, eh? You know what? Sure. I like you two, so 100 poke it is. Comet, you can have the larger share since I took the lower deal.”
Comet doesn’t answer, so Nia assumes he agrees with those conditions.
Time passes in a blur after that. Nia knows that they have at least a few hours until they reach the land across the sea, but she tries to distract herself by listening to the snippets of conversation around her and thinking about what they have waiting ahead of them. They’re going to find Junie! And see Will again, as well as his human settlement. Excitement mixes in with the nerves in her stomach.
However, it's hard not to let her mind drift to more panic-inducing thoughts too, like their current situation in the air, or their mission from Giratina, or even how much she misses her family in the human world when she has the time to think about them.
Nia wants them here. She wants her mom to stroke her hair and soothe her fear. She wants Clay to make stupid jokes to distract her. She wants Toni to stick her obnoxiously large headphones over Nia’s ears to drown out the quiet roar of the wind.
She misses them so much. Longing aches like a bruise inside her chest.
Nia sniffs and hopes that Tobias doesn’t notice her shaky breaths. Tears prick at her eyes, hot and insistent.
Nia misses them, and she doesn’t even have the full story. She’d hoped that after getting sick and remembering some of her life as a human, the rest of her memories would follow. But after the initial deluge, they’d slowed to a stop. She knows she’s still missing a lot, still has giant gaps in her memory that feel impossible to focus on for too long. What was the last thing she even did with her family before showing up here?
Nia is pulled out of her thoughts when Tobias speaks up, tapping her arm. “We’re at the ocean.”
Nia doesn’t think he means for her to look up, just to update her, so she nods her thanks into his shoulder.
After that, Nia tries to let the loud howl of the wind and the roar of the waves drown out her thoughts and anxieties. Tries to let the sensations surround her in a fuzzy haze.
She’s snapped back to reality by the sudden tilt of the world.
Nia squeaks, clinging to Tobias as Fliss’ considerable mass is knocked sideways by a sudden gust of wind. The braviary flaps wildly to correct herself, and Nia’s stomach flips. Oh, they’re gonna die they’re gonna die they’re gonna die—
Fliss finally manages to catch a gentler air current, leveling out her erratic flight. Nia keeps her face hidden away, focusing on her death grip around Tobias’ ribs and the way he’s clutching at her arm in return.
“Are you two all right?” Comet yells, sounding more tense than Nia would like. His voice is closer too, as if hovering near enough to catch them if they fall.
Tobias squeezes Nia’s wrist, whether to reassure her or himself that she’s still hanging on. “I don’t know if I’d say all right, exactly, but we’re still here. What was that?”
“Rogue wind,” Fliss calls back. “I’ve sailed these currents for more than twenty years, and I’ve never seen anything like ‘em. They like to pop up out of nowhere and throw us off course.”
“A symptom of the increasing natural disasters, as far as we can tell,” Comet adds. “It certainly makes travel more difficult. Dangerous, particularly for the smaller flyers.”
Nia’s heart sinks. This is just one more reminder of what they’re trying to stop. Of what will come to pass if they don’t fix the world. Nia can imagine the winds growing untamed enough eventually to ground flyers completely, whipping up storms and typhoons to wreak havoc alongside earthquakes and droughts.
Nia takes another deep breath to ward off fresh panic. This is why they’re going to see Will. They’re going to fix this. All of it.
“Don’t you worry—I’m much tougher than any rowdy wind!” Fliss calls, trying to sound upbeat. “You two just hold on tight and we’ll be sure to get you to Stonebrook safely.”
Tobias nods, but doesn’t respond. Nia, still trying to calm her racing heart, simply holds onto him tighter. She already didn’t like flying, but the thought that the world could suddenly flip and toss them into the ocean at any time is ten times worse. Not that she doesn’t trust Fliss, but she distrusts the current state of nature even more.
“I’ll scout ahead to make sure that doesn’t happen again,” Comet calls, just loud enough to hear, before Nia feels another burst of warmth from his flames. He must’ve jetted forward to fly just ahead of Fliss.
Unfortunately, conversation stops after that as Fliss and Comet focus on navigating the rough air currents. Time passes in tense quiet, aside from the rush of the wind and the roar of the waves. Every time a gust of wind shakes up their flight even the slightest bit, Nia’s heart jumps into her throat.
When Tobias finally speaks again, it’s quiet and almost to himself. “Huh.”
Nia tightens her grip on her partner. “W-What? Is something wrong?”
“No. I don’t think so, at least.” Tobias leans slightly, as if peering over Fliss’ side. “Giratina’s following us.”
That’s interesting enough to make Nia look up. She debates with herself for just a moment before steeling her courage, tightening her grip, and following Tobias’ gaze down, to the choppy ocean below.
Sure enough, Nia spots Giratina’s giant, serpentine shape in the broken reflections on the ocean’s surface. He’s following alongside Fliss’ quick pace, winding like a snake through black water.
Fliss notices the legendary’s presence, but she must think it’s another Pokemon because she just gripes about nosy water types before flapping higher to catch a different current. Nia stiffens at the reminder of how high up they are and burrows back into her safe space.
“Surely he has better things to do than follow us around,” Tobias says.
“Maybe we should give him an update?” Nia suggests. “To be fair, he doesn’t know what we’re doing. We could try talking to him through a reflection later?”
“Maybe.”
And with that, they fall silent again.
____________________________________________________________
It’s late morning when they finally make it back to land, and almost noon by time Fliss calls out that they’ll be landing in Stonebrook in a few minutes.
The rest of their flight had been uneventful after that first incident. Comet had successfully steered them around any other severe turbulence, and the cold weather had warmed with the sun beating down on their backs. Still, Nia is beyond relieved to have the end of their flight so near, and she manages to lift her head and take a peek at where they’re going.
The forest below looks different from the one in Bethoc’s Haven. The trees back home are a range of species, mostly deciduous, with spreading boughs and wide leaves that change colors and wither away with the seasons. These trees, even from a distance, stand tall and pointed, a rich palette of greens despite the approaching winter. Evergreens?
Fliss and Comet aim for a notable gap in the trees. As they start to descend, Nia realizes they aren’t just settling in a small grove or clearing, but instead at the edge of a tiny village nestled amongst the trees. There are small buildings scattered throughout the space, built from boulders and slabs of stone propped against one another. Other than a few purposeful openings that are clearly windows, any gaps are filled in with smaller, carefully stacked stones. A stream winds through the town, stepping stones bridging its two halves, and even this late in autumn the whole place feels green and lush, each building topped by a grassy roof. They must be farther south than Nia had realized.
Pokemon are scattered around the village, going about their day. Children are chasing each other down dirt paths, shrieking with laughter, while a couple of adults talk and watch the kids from outside stone homes. Others appear to be doing chores or running errands. One building is seemingly the home of a merchant, and a few Pokemon are crowded around the little window where he’s exchanging goods. Smoke rises from another building, and Nia catches the savory scent of something cooking. Some Pokemon are even riding a cart out of town on the main path, heading who knows where.
Fliss finally touches down, and Nia wastes no time in sliding off her back. The cool, pine needle-strewn dirt below her feet is blessedly solid.
“Oh, thank God,” Nia breathes, sinking to the ground. Her legs are somehow both stiff and flimsy as jelly.
Fliss laughs, lowering herself so Tobias can slide down much more gracefully.
“You good?” He asks.
Nia groans, leaning forward to press her forehead against the dirt. Tobias gives her a patronizing pat on the back.
“Apologies again for the rough flight over,” Comet says, stepping closer.
“But we did get you here in one piece!” Fliss says, giving an exaggerated wink with her one good eye.
Tobias helps Nia to her feet. “That you did. Thanks.”
“We’re planning to head to Ghatha right away for our next job, so you may need to make the journey north on foot if you need a return flight,” Comet says.
“That’s fine!” Nia says, giving Comet a weak smile as she starts stretching out her stiff legs. “We probably won’t need a flight ‘mon for a while, anyways. We need to find someone here in town, and then we’re heading south.”
“Fair enough,” Fliss says. “Well, it was good seeing you two again, despite the rocky weather. Be careful on your travels and be sure to find us again if you need a flight! It’s always a pleasure having you as riders.”
“Thanks, Fliss,” Nia says, smiling warmly at the braviary. “I can’t say it’s been, um…fun, exactly, but I appreciate you doing your best to make it easier for me. Both of you.”
Comet dips his head. “Of course. It was nice meeting you both.”
With that, Fliss and Comet step back and take flight again, flapping up and into the sky. Nia waves them off until they’re out of sight.
Then it’s just Nia and Tobias standing at the edge of the village. Stonebrook is absolutely tiny, maybe ten or twelve small buildings in all, and Nia can see clear to the other side of town from where they’re standing. While the inhabitants of the village aren’t approaching them, there are one or two Pokemon watching them curiously, clearly wondering who they are and why they flew to Stonebrook of all places.
“Well, we’re here. Now what?” Tobias asks.
“Well…” Nia trails off, looking around. “I guess we just ask around until someone can point out where Junie lives? It can’t be too hard to find her in a town this small.”
Tobias shrugs, clearly not thrilled about socializing with a bunch of strangers, but follows as Nia wanders into the village proper, towards the merchant shop she’d spotted earlier.
“This place is nice,” Nia says, smiling as one of the children she’d seen before runs past her. The kid, a brown chipmunk Pokemon with a leafy green bonnet, does a double-take at the two strangers in his village, and skids to a stop. The Pokemon that had been chasing the little guy slams into him, and the two fall into a squirming, squabbling heap.
“It’s definitely not where I expected Junie of all Pokemon to settle down,” Tobias says, stepping around the kids. “It’s too…”
“Peaceful?”
“I was going to say boring, but yeah.”
Nia elbows him to be polite, still looking around as they approach the merchant’s shop. The village is open to the sun, but it’s surrounded by a thick wall of pine trees. Nia can’t decide if the forest feels reassuring or confining. Then again, she lives inside a giant tree, so she doesn’t really have room to talk.
“Nia?”
Nia stops in place, ears perking at the familiar voice. She spins to find it, beaming when she sees Junie stopped mid-step mere feet away. The rookidee is clearly shocked, beak open and wide ruby eyes flicking between Nia and Tobias in disbelief.
“Junie!” Nia says.
Junie blinks once. Twice. Then she finally seems to register that this is really happening. She tweets an excited, shrill noise before rocketing into Nia’s open arms. Nia falls to the dirt and moss, laughing.
“What’re you doing here?!” Junie says, nuzzling into Nia’s fur. “Where did you even come from?”
“We flew!” Nia laughs, hugging her. “Did you not see us? Half the village has been staring at us since we landed.”
“I just got into town!” Junie leans back just enough to meet Nia’s eyes, feathers fluffed with excitement. “What’re you doing here?!”
Nia feels her smile falter a bit. She sits up, and Junie resettles in her lap. “We have business south of here, so we thought we would stop by and visit you on the way.”
“I’m so glad you did! I missed your adorable face.” Junie’s gaze flicks behind Nia to where Tobias is standing, and she perks up all over again. “And Toby’s here too!”
“I told you not to call me that,” Tobias growls.
“Good to see you haven’t lost your charming personality!”
Nia giggles, while Tobias just rolls his eyes.
“Ahem.”
Nia and Junie look up to see a pink cow Pokemon standing over them, a basket full of linens held against her hip.
Oh. They decided to have their reunion right in the middle of town, didn’t they? And right in the middle of one of the walking paths, too.
Junie laughs and flaps her way out of Nia’s lap. “Sorry, Marie!”
Nia scrambles to follow. “Sorry, ma’am!”
Marie shakes her head, but she’s smiling as she passes. “Good to see you so happy, Junie. Just keep the paths clear, all right?”
Junie salutes the Pokemon’s back, sending Nia a wry smile.
Huh. Nia had gotten the impression back in Ghatha that Junie didn’t talk to her neighbors much, but that was a pretty casual exchange with Marie. Maybe she’s grown more comfortable with them since then?
Once the cow Pokemon is out of earshot, stopping outside of her home to hang the linens on a makeshift clothesline, Junie turns to Nia. “Come on, we can go back to my place.”
“Oh, sure!”
Nia and Tobias follow as Junie hops down one of the village’s dirt paths, then leaves the trail entirely to head into the woods.
Nia hesitates at the tree line, watching Junie’s dark feathers get nearly swallowed up by the forest’s heavy shade. The three of them are dwarfed by the tall evergreens here.
“You don’t live in town?” Nia asks.
“Nope! I live with Bo now! He should actually be stopping by the house soon with some lunch.”
Nia’s brows rise at the bird’s easy answer, but she dutifully follows before she can lose sight of the rookidee.
Junie had seemed so stubbornly independent back in Ghatha. When did that change? Nia did tell her she should try connecting more with her neighbors, but this feels like a big step.
“Bo?” Tobias asks when they catch up.
“Yeah! He’s a dork, but he’s the best. A real metal guy.”
Nia tilts her head, hearing the joke in Junie’s voice but unsure of what to make of it. A pun, no doubt.
“Is he your, um…”
Junie must pick up on what Nia is asking, because she scrunches up her face and sticks out her tongue. “Ew, no, gross. He’s like. A dad. Or an older brother, maybe. Oh! No, wait, he’s definitely an uncle!”
“How do you just decide that someone’s an uncle?” Tobias asks.
“When they have uncle energy, duh. Keep up, Toby.”
Tobias sends Nia a look that makes it clear he’s already done with Junie for this visit. Nia bites back a laugh.
The rookidee leads them farther into the forest than Nia expects, until Stonebrook is out of sight behind them and they’re surrounded by the quiet of the trees. It’s heavily shaded here with the canopy of evergreens so thick, and the air cools notably. At first, Nia almost finds it unnerving, used to the dappled sunshine of the forest in Bethoc’s Haven, but the peaceful quiet and gentle, dark colors grow on her quickly. The ground underfoot is a soft mix of dirt, moss, and soft pine needles, and the air is fragrant with the scent. The trunks of the pines tower above them. There’s less foliage to wade through, which is nice. It’s not bad, necessarily. Just…different.
Finally, Nia sees something up ahead, an out of place gray amongst the cool browns and greens of the forest.
“This is where we live!” Junie chirps, hopping ahead to present it with a wide flourish of her wings.
It’s a small abode made of stone, much like the homes back in Stonebrook proper. One of its walls seems to be made up of the large tree it’s propped against, and its roof is a grassy slant of soil atop a slab of stone. The other walls are made of smaller, carefully stacked rocks, with only two rectangular gaps left on either side of the wooden door—windows, most likely, seeing as they’re currently covered by leafy blinds. There are a few flowers and paint doodles decorating the outside, almost certainly Junie’s doing, that brighten the gray exterior. The little house is cushioned by moss and framed by more giant pine trees, but there are a few slices of sunshine in this part of the forest, making the whole place look homey rather than unwelcoming.
“It’s lovely!” Nia says, charmed.
“You sleep on the ground?” Tobias asks, sounding more confused than anything.
“Hey, what’s wrong with that?” Junie asks, giving him a glare. “You sleep on the ground!”
“We literally live in a tree.”
Junie stops mid-retort, blinking. “Huh. Guess you do. Still! Lots of Pokemon sleep on ground level!”
“Not flying types.”
“We’ve had some rough storms around here, okay?” Junie huffs. “Besides, I used to sleep in trees before moving in with Bo, and it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I kept falling out, and it got so drafty! This is much cozier.”
“Or maybe you’re just a weirdo.”
“Maybe it’s just your human side talking,” Nia suggests, biting back a laugh at the cross look Junie sends her partner. “Humans do like being cozy.”
“Because it’s the best!” Junie says with a decisive nod. She opens her mouth to say something else, then pauses, glancing up through the trees as they rustle with the wind. “Oh! I think Bo’s home!”
Nia peers up through the pine branches and the slivers of sunlight, but she can’t see much of anything through the thick boughs.
“I’d step back if I were you,” Junie says, hopping back against the house. “I’ve been knocked over by his tailwind more times than I can count.”
Finally, Nia sees him: a silver bird diving through a gap in the evergreens. He flashes bright when he cuts through a ray of sunlight, like the sun reflecting off a car, and the undersides of his wings are a scarlet red. As he descends, Nia realizes just how big he really is, and scrambles back to make room, Tobias right on her heels.
The bird slows down with a few powerful flaps right before he meets the forest floor. The gust created from his wings makes Nia brace herself against the house and squint her eyes shut as he settles heavily onto the mossy ground.
Nia blinks grit from her eyes and trails her gaze up from huge talons and a bulky silver body until she finds the bird’s face. He’s gotta be over two times their height, and he’s seemingly covered in…metal? The wings he tucks against his sides almost seem to be tipped in blades, sharp as they are, but they don’t cut through the satchel strapped around his body. His head is an equally sharp thing, with a wicked beak of sharp teeth and a spike of metal atop his head, almost like a helmet. He meets Nia’s gaze with keen yellow eyes.
“You didn’t tell me we were having visitors, Junebug,” the bird says, voice more playful than Nia expects. “I would’ve cleaned the place up a bit. Now I just look like a bad host.”
Junie laughs, hopping forward to gesture with her wings. “I’m just as surprised as you are! These are the friends I told you about, from Ghatha! Nia and Toby.”
“Tobias, actually,” Tobias corrects. It’s halfhearted, though, as he sizes up the Pokemon in front of them.
Nia gives the large bird a smile and a shy wave.
The bird squawks a laugh. “You two are just like Junie described! Nice to meet you. I’m Bolat. Local mail ‘mon and self-appointed wrangler for this little impidimp.”
Bolat reaches out a taloned foot to nudge Junie, surprisingly gentle. The rookidee trills an annoyed sound as she’s still nearly knocked over, but she’s smiling.
“I keep your life exciting and you know it!”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Nia says, bowing lightly. Tobias doesn’t say anything, but Nia sees him give the bird a respectful nod.
“You too.” Bolat tilts his head, looking at them consideringly. “Do you two plan to bunk with us tonight?”
“Oh! I-I mean, we can find somewhere else to sleep if it’s any trouble, but—”
Bolat laughs and shakes his head. “No no, you’re fine. We have room. We’ll just need to get you some bedding for a proper nest. Guessing you haven’t done that yet?”
“They just got here!” Junie says. “Gimme like an hour. There’s some decent stuff in that glen west of here, right?”
Bolat hums, eyeing the two of them again before turning back to Junie. “How about I just grab some bedding for the night while I’m out on my second run? I’m sure you want to catch up anyways.”
Nia almost protests out of pure politeness, but glances at Junie instead. This is her home, after all. Even if Nia is surprised that the little bird isn’t immediately insisting she can do it herself.
After a moment of thought, though, Junie just nods. “If you don’t mind, that’d be awesome! Thanks, Bo.”
“Eh, no big. It’s a slow day anyways. Ah, here.” Bolat lifts a wing to dip his beak into the satchel looped over his body, rummaging around through…letters? He finally re-emerges with a small sack, which he drops in front of Junie. “Grabbed some lunch. Make sure you eat a few of the chestnuts and greens—you need more bulk if you want to carry more than a letter at a time.”
Junie groans and butts her head against Bolat’s leg with a thonk. “I know, I know! I’ll eat my stupid veggies. Thanks.”
Bolat laughs again and looks at Nia and Tobias. “There should be enough in there for all three of you, if you haven’t had lunch yet. I’ll pick something else up for myself.”
“Are you sure?” Nia asks, ears lowering. She can’t help feeling like they’re imposing, showing up so suddenly and making Bolat do so much for them.
“Of course!” Bolat waves them off with a giant wing. “Any friend of June’s is a friend of mine. Make yourselves at home.”
“Well…thank you, then.”
“’Course.” Bolat squints up through the trees at the midday sunshine. “I’d better get going if I don’t want to be late, though. Can you hold down the fort until I get back, Junebug?”
“Aye aye, cap’n!” Junie says, saluting with her little wing.
“In that case, I’ll see you all this evening with bedding in tow. See you!”
Bolat barely waits for Nia and Tobias to say their own goodbyes before he’s flapping hard at the ground again and lifting up into the air. Nia watches, kind of awestruck that a bird seemingly made of metal can appear so light and graceful as he flies up between the trees and out of sight.
Then Nia squints, looking down at Junie. “’A real metal guy?’”
Junie chirps a laugh. “I wasn’t lying, was I?”
Tobias snorts. “A skarmory’s about as metal as a flying type can get.”
“Exactly! Now, come on in. I can’t make you guys proper nests until Bo brings back some fluff, but we can still catch up and eat!”
Junie grabs the lip of the sack of food and drags it along behind her, flapping furiously against its weight. Nia holds open the front door so Junie can get inside, watching as the little bird pulls open the blinds on the two small windows to let in some fresh air and sunlight. Then Nia follows her, surprised by how the inside of the little home feels both cozy and more spacious than she expects.
It’s clearly a space built for just one or two Pokemon, but it’s organized. There’s a small basin off to one side of the room, with bowls, cloths, and other supplies resting near it on a small, flat boulder. On the other side, there’s a larger slab of stone, where two nests sit. One is clearly Junie’s, a tiny bowl of moss and pine needles perfectly sized to cup her body. The second nest is much, much larger, and Nia has to stare at it for a moment to try to understand what she’s looking at.
Are those…thorns?
Junie notices Nia’s expression and twitters a laugh. “Yeah, Bo sleeps in a nest of brambles. Apparently lots of skarmory do it to protect their chicks and toughen up their feathers or something? Or he’s just a freak, I dunno.”
“That’s, um…really intense,” Nia settles on.
“Right?! I’ll stick with my soft, squishy nest, thank you very much. I’m a delicate lady, after all.”
Over near the table, Tobias snorts.
“Oh, what?” Junie says, playfully challenging. “Something you want to say, Toby?”
“Lots of things. But then Nia would scold me for being rude.”
“Like that ever stopped you before.”
Nia smiles as the two go back and forth. She trails closer to the nests, which are sitting right next to one another, almost touching.
“You two seem close,” Nia says, glancing back at Junie.
“I mean…I guess? I haven’t really been here that long.”
“Yeah, but you seemed really against letting anyone help you back in Ghatha. So I guess I’m just glad you found someone here you trust.”
“Yeah…” Junie starts preening her wing, visibly embarrassed. “I was being kind of dumb about that, in hindsight. Like. Bo can be ridiculous, but he’s super nice, y’know? I really like living here. He’s been teaching me a lot, too! Like getting me to fly higher without freaking out.”
Nia turns to look at Junie. “Really?”
“Yup! I can even fly above the trees now! Not by much before I panic again, but I’m definitely better than before. Bo thinks he can get me over my fear of heights in under a year!”
“See if he can teach Nia, too,” Tobias jokes, picking up a bowl to inspect it.
“This…seems like a big deal to you,” Nia says slowly, a little confused. “I-I mean, don’t get me wrong! It’s great! But your fear of heights didn’t seem to bother you that much before?”
“Well…” Junie hops over to fiddle with the tie on the sack of food, clearly looking for something to keep herself busy. “I couldn’t help you in the fire at Ghatha because I was too scared of flying, and I only ended up living with Bo because I was too weak to navigate a storm. So I guess I just want to get better at being a flying type so I can actually do things and not be scared all the time. Plus, I’ll need to be able to fly for real if I want to have a more exciting job than just running errands around Stonebrook.”
“A job?” Tobias asks, frowning. “Like as a Seeker?”
Junie bursts into laughter. “Absolutely not! Fighting’s the worst. Don’t know how you do it, Nia. And dealing with clients and guildmasters? Ugh. No thanks.”
“What’re you hoping to do instead?” Nia asks.
“I’m thinking a mail ‘mon like Bo!” Junie says. She abandons the sack and hops up onto the windowsill to better meet Nia’s gaze. She looks excited, chest puffed and eyes bright. “It’ll take me a few years to learn the landscape well enough to find my way around, and I have to build up enough strength to actually carry a few letters long distance—especially since I have to stay a pipsqueak forever—but I think I’d really like it! Bo’s let me tag along on a few of his runs and it’s the best. He gets to go everywhere and he meets so many funny people!”
Nia blinks at Junie’s enthusiasm, surprised. That’s…quite the long-term goal. Without thinking, she says, “Years? But what about getting back home?”
Junie seems confused for a moment, but then she pouts. “Oh. Right. You still want to be human again, don’t you?”
Nia jerks back. She remembers Junie mentioning something like this in Ghatha, but— “You don’t? You want to stay here? Like this? Forever?”
Junie’s pout deepens into something more genuinely troubled. Her eyes flick to Tobias before resettling on Nia. “Yeah? Just because you want to go back to the boring old human world doesn’t mean everyone does.”
“But…” Nia trails off, at a loss for words. She looks at Tobias, wondering if he’s as surprised as she is. He’s pointedly fiddling with the bowl in his hands, not meeting Nia’s eyes. Oh. Right. Leaving would mean…leaving him behind. And everyone else, too.
But even with that in mind, Nia still can’t help her shock. When she thinks of the human world, she doesn’t think of how boring it can be. She thinks of her family, of going home and reuniting with them. She thinks of her brother pulling her into a crushing hug and lifting her off the ground. She thinks of her mom crying and cooking a big meal for the family to eat together. She thinks of Toni refusing to leave her side for a week straight and catching her up on everything she missed.
Does Junie not have people like that to go home to?
“Do you not remember anything yet?” Nia asks. “About your old life?”
Junie hops down to the soft dirt of the floor and back over to the sack of food. “No, I remember. Not a lot, but enough. It just isn’t good enough to convince me to go back.”
“Wait, doesn’t Will have some theory about humans having to get close to death to regain their memories?” Tobias asks, narrowing his eyes at Junie. “Did you get your memories back after the fire in Ghatha?”
“Nope! Not there. I got pretty hurt right after I got back to Stonebrook, so it must’ve been then. I didn’t know about the whole near-death thing, but it did happen while I was recovering, so.”
“You got hurt?!” Nia asks, alarmed despite knowing that Junie has been totally fine the entire time they’ve been talking. She still can’t resist stepping closer and crouching to scan the delicate little bird’s body. “It had to be serious if you remembered something.”
Junie chirps a laugh. “Sure was! A nasty storm hit the woods and a branch fell on me. Almost flattened me like a pancake! Funny how that’s almost happened twice now, huh? Anyways, that’s how I met Bo! He helped me get back on my feet. Oh! And look at this!”
Junie ignores the distress surely painting Nia’s face to hop back a step. Then, with a furrow in her little brow and a few moments of quiet, a bubble of bright orange energy flickers to life around her.
Aura. Junie’s aura. Nia can sense it immediately, even if she hadn’t been able to see it herself. Her jaw drops.
The bubble around the rookidee only lasts for a second or two, weak and faint, before vanishing again. Junie pants, clearly exhausted from the little display, but beams at Nia and Tobias’ gobsmacked expressions.
“I used protect when the branch landed on me! Though apparently not very well, since I still fractured some bones. Definitely not as strong as the one you used in Ghatha, Nia. But still! Isn’t that cool?!”
“You can use aura now?” Tobias asks, looking horrified. He’s probably thinking about Junie possessing all of the intimate soul-reading powers that Nia has.
Junie shakes her head. “Nah. Just this one move. But I still thought it was neat!”
“It is neat,” Nia offers a beat too late, feeling off-kilter. That one book in the archives did mention that all humans could use protect, but it’s still strange seeing it in action.
Junie puffs out her little chest, proud, before realizing something. She glares at Nia. “Wait, you also got some of your memories back? That means you almost died again, too! I thought I told you guys not to get into any more trouble!”
Nia winces, holding out her hands in a placating gesture. “T-To be fair, I just got really sick?”
“That’s an understatement,” Tobias grumbles, walking over to flick Nia with his tail.
“Oh.” Junie’s irritation deflates. “That sucks.”
“A little,” Nia laughs. “Although…Junie, do me a favor and promise to go to a doctor right away if you get sick, okay? It can get pretty serious for humans.”
Junie opens her mouth to make a lighthearted quip, but something about the expressions on their faces stops her. She tilts her head, clearly curious, but eventually chirps, “Yeah, okay. I promise.”
After that, they settle on the ground outside to eat, where the dirt and moss has been warmed a bit by the sun. Tobias opens the sack Bolat brought back, where a small feast of berries, veggies, and some spiky chestnuts await them for lunch.
Junie gets to work carefully cracking open the chestnuts with her beak while Nia and Tobias divvy up the rest of the food for their impromptu picnic. It’s still chilly out, especially in the shade of the forest, but it’s not as cold as it was while flying over. The wind smells like fresh pine as it rattles through the trees, and dappled sunlight plays across the ground.
“I still feel bad eating the food Bolat got specifically for you two,” Nia says as Junie passes them some of the unshelled chestnuts to add to their meal.
“Don’t be. Bo’s really generous, and he finds lots of food while he’s out on the job. He took me in when I got hurt and took care of me without a second thought.”
Nia smiles as she takes a bite of a carrot-like vegetable, crunching away at it. Bolat does seem awfully nice, and Nia’s beyond grateful that Junie found someone like him to take care of her when she was so injured. She doesn’t want to imagine what would’ve happened otherwise.
“So, catch me up,” Junie says around a mouthful of food. “Any leads on the whole ‘returning to the human world’ front?”
Nia feels Tobias’ eyes on her, and tries not to look too eager at the prospect. “Um…a few? I have some ideas, but nothing solid yet.”
Junie hums, clearly sympathetic but not at all upset on her own behalf. “That sucks. Sorry, Nia. Let me know if I can help, okay? Although I don’t know what I could add that you and Will don’t already have covered.”
Nia slowly puts her own food back down. “Junie, you…you really don’t want to go back home, do you?”
Junie shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “I mean. I miss some stuff, I guess, but most of my memories are just…blah, you know? And I’m happy here! Even though I’m gonna be a little shrimp forever, I’m much happier here than I ever was as a human.”
Nia sits back, torn. On one hand, it’s not like she can argue with Junie’s feelings. And just because Nia wants to see her family and friends so desperately doesn’t mean everyone does. But to just abandon her old life entirely? Just like that?
“You aren’t worried that somebody will miss you?” Nia can’t help asking.
“Not really. They aren’t my problem anymore.”
What in the world does that mean?
Nia tries not to visibly slump, and starts picking at her food again. She’d been so excited to share her recovered memories with the rookidee, but now she isn’t so sure she wants to. Would Junie even want her to, or would it just be awkward?
“So is that the mission you’re doing south of here? Figuring out human stuff?”
“Um, no. Not really. We are going to see Will, but not about that.”
“What for, then?”
Nia glances at Tobias. He’s munching on a chestnut, and gives Nia a wave of his hand that clearly says it’s Nia’s prerogative how much she wants to share.
“Okay, your little telepathic communication thing is adorable, but what’s with the serious face?” Junie asks. She looks between Nia and Tobias. “You’re not telling me something.”
For a moment, Nia considers brushing off Junie’s concerns. She hadn’t told Xander’s team or Andyn’s team about the whole “world ending” thing, but…well, quite frankly, she doesn’t think Junie will let it go now that she’s picked up on it.
Plus, she’s human like Nia, as much as she apparently doesn’t want to be anymore. She didn’t have a life here before all of this started happening. It feels right, to let her in on the secret too.
Nia puts her food down again. “You’re right. Sorry. We, um…we found something out recently. Something big.”
Junie frowns. “Bad big?”
“Certainly not good big,” Tobias huffs.
“We met Giratina,” Nia says. “He—"
“Wait, back up. Giratina? The scary nightmare creature that Will explicitly told us not to talk to?”
Nia winces. “Yes? He’s, um…actually pretty civil. If a bit of a grouch.”
“So like Tobias, then,” Junie says. She doesn’t even bask in his reaction, adding, “Okay, hold up, start from the beginning. I need the whole story.”
Nia hesitates, but crumbles quickly under Junie’s insistent gaze.
So Nia tells the story yet again, from the moment when Tobias noticed Giratina following them, all the way up to their talk with August when they returned to the guild. She’s getting better at summarizing after telling the story twice before, but Tobias still jumps in occasionally to add any important details that she forgets. Junie is surprisingly quiet for most of it, aside from when she chastises them for being idiots, jumping down into dangerous mines with criminals and meeting up with crazy bugs who want to send them to the distortion world.
Finally, voice raspy and meal still only half-finished, Nia says, “And that’s the gist. This world—the Pokemon world—is basically in danger of falling apart entirely if we don’t do something to stop it. And the human world will go down with it.”
“Nia thinks Will might have some human connections who can help us find Xerneas, so that she can strengthen the barrier,” Tobias adds. “Or fix it afterwards, if it’s predetermined to break. Either way, we don’t have much go to go on, so we’re checking with him just in case.”
Junie’s expression is somber when they finish. She stares long and hard at the dirt, clearly deep in thought. Finally, she sighs and looks up. “Well. That’s a fine pickle. And just when I was getting comfy here, too. I guess we’ll just have to see what Will has to say, right?”
Nia blinks, then echoes the little bird. “We?”
“Well, yeah! I’m coming with you two to Will’s place, of course.” Junie says. “I just got you back. You aren’t ditching me again while you go off to save the world!”
Nia straightens up, heart lifting. “Really?”
Tobias groans. “Really?”
“Yup! You’re stuck with me, lizard-breath.”
“Greeeaaat,” Tobias drawls, using his flames to char a pecha berry cupped in his palms.
“But what about Bolat?” Nia asks.
Junie waves Nia off. “He’ll be fine! He was on his own forever before I showed up. As long as I come back eventually to show him I’m not dead I’m sure he’ll be cool about it. And I can keep training while we head south so I’m not slacking!”
Nia smiles, something in her relaxing. “That’d be great, Junie. We’d be happy to have you.”
“Happy is a strong word,” Tobias says.
Nia glances at him, afraid for a moment that she’d just made a decision for the both of them that he’s genuinely upset about, but he doesn’t actually look bothered by this development. He bites into his berry with a casual movement, his tail flame its usual calm flicker and his expression even. Just their usual banter, then.
“Aw, c’mon! I’m excited to be traveling with you guys again! I guess we should leave right away tomorrow morning since this is kind of time-sensitive, huh? We’ve got mysteries to solve, worlds to save, eldritch horrors to meet—oh! Nia!”
Nia jumps, nearly dropping the peeled chestnut in her hand. “Y-Yeah?”
“I wanted to ask earlier, but I didn’t want to interrupt. If you can communicate with Giratina through reflections and he’s on our side now, could we like. Call him?”
Nia stares at Junie, chestnut forgotten. “You want to talk to him? He’s…kinda scary.”
“That’s even better!” Junie says, hopping up excitedly. “It’ll be like we’re trying to summon demons at a sleepover. Wait here!”
Junie darts inside her and Bolat’s home, and Nia looks at Tobias, bewildered.
The charmander shrugs, apparently more or less unphased. “You did suggest we get in touch with him so he knows what we’re up to.”
“I…guess?”
Junie flaps out the front door in an unsteady bob, a small stone bowl barely gripped in her tiny claws. She drops it on the ground in front of Nia, then lands clumsily on the other side.
“There! Will that work? You can use your canteen water, right?”
Okay, guess they’re doing this right now. Nia sighs, once again putting the last of her food aside to grab her canteen and pour an inch of water into the bowl. Sunlight bounces across the water’s surface as it settles. The whole thing is about the size of Nia’s hand, just large enough to see faint reflections of the trees above them.
“Now what?” Junie asks, practically vibrating. “Do we have to chant or something?”
“I don’t actually know,” Nia says, frowning. “We haven’t tried to call him like this before.”
“He can’t be far,” Tobias says, leaning closer to the bowl. “He was following us on the trip over.”
Just as Nia’s about to try calling for Giratina, Junie shouts, “Hey, lord of nightmares! Get your butt over here!”
“Junie!” Nia hisses, wide-eyed.
“What?! You said he’s on your side now!”
“He is, but he’s also a god with a temper!”
“Uh, hey,” Tobias says, pointing. “He’s here.”
Nia looks down, surprised. Sure enough, she can see the faint reflection of Giratina’s silhouette in the surface of the bowl. Just his head, really, the rest of his body likely unable to fit into view.
“Whoa,” Junie breathes, feathers ruffled but expression delighted.
Giratina’s eyes narrow slightly, as if to ask what they want. Nia can practically hear his rapidly thinning patience.
“W-We saw you following us earlier, over the ocean,” Nia explains. “So I thought you were maybe wondering what we were doing? I figured we could give you an update. I-If you’d like.”
“We also wanted to see if we could contact you,” Tobias adds. “Which I guess is a yes.”
Giratina nods, looking back at Nia. Waiting.
She jerks. “O-Oh! Okay. Um. So we’re looking for a friend of mine, a human, who has been gathering other humans. We think he might have an idea of where to find Xerneas, since I know he’s been researching a lot of stuff and talking to a lot of people. So that’s why we’re, uh. Here. And traveling.”
Giratina seems to mull that over for a moment, before nodding his approval.
“Can he not talk?” Junie whispers, loudly.
“He talked to me in his dimension,” Nia says, feeling weirdly rude speaking about Giratina in the third-person when he’s right there. “But I don’t think he can speak to us through reflections?”
“But what if he has something important to tell you?”
Giratina shifts, catching their attention before Nia or Tobias can answer. He brings up a tendril-like wing, the giant talon at its tip settling close to the surface of the reflection and blocking out Giratina himself.
“Does he want you to…touch him? E.T. style?” Junie asks. “Can you even do that?”
Nia frowns, staring at the talon seemingly right on the other side of the water’s surface. “I…don’t know. He did pull me through a reflection in Shivergleam, but I kind of assumed that was like…a special ritual that Edme set up?”
“He did it at the river near the guild too,” Tobias grumbles.
Huh. He’s right. Which means…
Curious, and knowing that the legendary would have been able to kill her easily last time they met but decided not to, Nia lifts her hand and holds it over the water.
“You sure?” Junie asks.
Tobias reaches out and grabs Nia’s free arm, as if to make sure he isn’t left behind this time if she’s yanked through again.
With a deep breath, Nia dips her finger gently into the chilled water, trying not to disturb the reflections on the surface. Sure enough, after an inch or two, she hits not the smooth stone of the bowl’s bottom, but the dulled point of something else, ice-cold.
Giratina.
Nia’s brows raise. Curious, she dips the rest of her hand into the bowl. While she can’t wrap her hand around the sheer size of the claw, it’s undeniable that she has surpassed the depth of the bowl itself. Like a magic trick.
“Whoa,” Junie murmurs again.
Satisfied for now, Nia pulls her hand free, amazed to realize her fur isn’t even wet. She blinks down at the water as it settles. Giratina has pulled away so they can see his face again.
“So when you’re around, you can make any reflection into a portal to the distortion world?” Tobias asks.
The legendary nods.
“Does that only work for Nia? Or for anyone?” Junie asks.
Nia doesn’t know how Giratina does it, but she can practically feel his exasperation through the reflection.
“Oh, r-right. Yes or no questions, Junie.”
“Fine, fine! How about this—can anyone go through a portal you open?”
Giratina nods again.
The three of them sit back as one.
“Huh,” Nia says. “I’m not sure that really changes anything? But I guess it’s good to know that we can check in with you any time if we need to.”
“Could be a helpful escape route in an emergency,” Tobias muses, hand at his chin. “As long as we find a reflection large enough.”
Giratina suddenly jerks, looking off to the side. His eyes narrow. He looks back at them, as if asking if they’re done here. There must be another one of those rumblings in the rift that Nia had experienced while there. A sign of the coming disaster. He probably wants to check it out to make sure it’s nothing more serious.
“I think that’s all we know right now. Um. Thank you for answering?” Nia says, feeling awkward about how exactly she’s supposed to sign off with a legendary.
Giratina nods, then slips out of sight. The reflection of the trees overhead and Nia’s curious face, leant over the bowl, flicker back into sight.
The three of them are quiet for a moment, digesting that experience.
“Okay, so. World-ending terror aside, that was pretty awesome,” Junie says. She hops up, looking all too excited. “We should try to summon more horror monsters before we have to get on the road tomorrow! Bo told me about this Pokémon called Darkrai who gives you nightmares. I don’t think he does it to mess with people, but let’s pretend he does because that’s much scarier.”
Nia can’t help laughing. The tension that had settled over them breaks instantly.
“Darkrai’s a legendary, feather-brain,” Tobias says. “He’s probably already dormant.”
“But he’s the god of nightmares or something! So maybe he’s immune to sleep stuff!”
Nia relaxes and finishes the last few bites of her meal as the two of them start up another silly argument. The exhaustion of the flight and the day’s antics are finally starting to weigh on her, but for at least tonight they can rest here with Junie and Bolat.
Suddenly, with just one more friend at their side, everything ahead doesn’t seem quite as scary.
#pmd#pokemon mystery dungeon#skarmory#talonflame#rookidee#braviary#pokemon#tesha writes#tesha draws#pmd seekers of soul
81 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.
Does that even make any sense?😭
Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit
Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope
TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy
Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌
Dear (Y/N),
I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.
Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.
I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.
I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.
I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.
I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.
I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.
I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.
I want to go every where you go.
I want to slow dance with you.
I want to head bang with you.
I want to paint with you.
I want to sing to you.
I want to hold you.
I want you.
I love you.
I’m in love with you.
And I’m sorry.
Sincerely,
Sally <3
Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.
Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.
~next morning~
‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.
You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.
Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“
You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.
“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.
“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.
As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.
“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.
“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.
“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.
And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol
#sally face x reader#sally face fanfic#sally face fanfiction#sal sally face#sally face sal#sally x reader#sal x reader#sal fisher#sally fisher#sally face#sal fisher x you#sal fisher x reader#sf sal#sally face fluff#sal fisher x y/n
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
MEET ME IN THE POURING RAIN; MIYA ATSUMU
Y/N decides to walk home, even though it's pouring. Atsumu and his truck save the day.
WORD COUNT: 1,950 words
TAGS: Feelings Realization; Friends to Lovers; Fluff; Post-Time Skip
NOTES: Do I write too much of Atsumu? I don't know and I don't care! Also, not beta-read. It's 2 AM as I post this so hopefully the amount of typos is not overwhelming
Read on AO3
The rain is relentless against the pavement and soaks Y/N down to the bone. The nice jacket his mother bought him for his birthday two years ago does nothing to keep him dry. It’s actually just weighing him down as the rest of his clothes stick to his body. He should find somewhere dry and wait for the rain to lighten up, but he just wants to be home already.
Y/N usually enjoys his walks home from his calculus lecture. Some days he listens to an audiobook or calls Atsumu to hear about what crazy things the MSBY Black Jackals have been up to. Although Atsumu may be annoying at times, he’s a phenomenal storyteller when he wants to be, and Y/N likes listening to stories after suffering through his three-hour calculus lecture. Atsumu also loves talking, so it works out well.
His phone buzzes inside his bag, signaling he’s gotten a text, but he refuses to pull it out. The rain will just ruin it, and he doesn’t have enough money to replace it. He imagines it’s Atsumu asking if Y/N is home yet or if he’s sound shelter to wait out the storm. Atsumu prefers calling over texting, says it’s easier to say what he needs to than type it out, but he waits until Y/N calls him because Y/N likes texting more.
His phone buzzes again in his bag—several more times, actually. There’s the possibility that it may not be Atsumu texting him. It could be Osamu, asking the same questions as Atsumu while also probably questioning him if he still has enough to eat since he meal preps for Y/N.
“It amazes me ya’ve survived this long,” Osamu said one day when staring into Y/N’s bare fridge. Two days later, he brought a myriad of containers of food, all labeled of what they were and smiley faces next to the messy kanji.
Y/N has always been thankful for the meals Osamu makes him, because he knows it does take time out of Osamu’s day, (also Osamu will not let him pay him for the food—was actually insulted when Y/N mentioned it) but he’s really thankful for those meals right now. All he wants to do is shower, put on some warm clothes, and heat up some food before watching the newest J-Drama he’s found on Netflix. The rain hasn’t put him in a cozy mood, but a mood that requires a cozy atmosphere to fix.
Lightning strikes across the sky, and Y/N really should find somewhere dry, but he’s so close to his apartment. There’s no point in stopping now. In roughly five minutes, he’ll be walking up the most likely flooded steps to his apartment. That’s what he tells himself when thunder shakes the ground beneath his feet.
For the first time in 10 minutes, a truck drives by him. Well, the truck actually slows down and matches his pace. It’s really his luck that he’s going to be killed in the pouring rain. It’s probably karma from not stopping. It’d really help if he could make out what the truck looks like, but it’s raining too hard to get a clear look. However, he faintly hears the truck window roll down slightly.
“What the hell do ya think you’re doin’?” Atsumu’s familiar voice yells over the rain. Relief crashes over Y/N because that means he’s not going to be kidnapped or killed.
“Walking home,” Y/N yells back so Atsumu can hear him, and he wonders how Atsumu knew it was him. The rain is coming down too hard for Y/N to make out the faded red truck Atsumu refuses to give up. It doesn’t matter that it’s quickly becoming a piece of shit with how terrible of a driver he is, he’s attached to the damn thing. “What are you doing?”
“Lookin’ for ya, obviously,” Atsumu says, and Y/N’s heart races a little. It must be because lightning makes an appearance once again, lighting up the gray sky. “Ya’ve not been answerin’ anyone’s texts or calls.”
Y/N rolls his eyes, even though he doubts Atsumu can see him. “I’m being rained on. Why would I get my phone out?”
“Why are ya lettin’ yerself get rained on?” Atsumu asks, as if that’s the real question. “I would’ve come and gotten ya if ya just texted me.”
It’s not a confession of anything, because Atsumu tells him that all the time. He tells Y/N how he doesn’t need to be so independent and can rely on him whenever he needs to. Atsumu is just like that, though. He’s so dedicated to the people and things he cares about, and really, Y/N is amazed he’s part of the small list of people Atsumu likes enough to consider his friends.
“It’s not that far of a walk,” Y/N says, and it thunders again. A sense of reality washes over him because if he stays out in the rain much longer, he’s going to end up sick. Being sick will make Atsumu fret over him by trying to take care of him while insulting him at the same time. It wouldn’t be such a terrible thought if Atsumu wasn’t so terrible at taking care of sick people. “Or at least not far enough that I thought to bother you.”
Atsumu stops the truck, and Y/N stops as well. He could just keep walking, but he doesn’t know how Atsumu will respond to that. Maybe driving up on the sidewalk to actually stop Y/N from walking away.
“You’re such an idiot,” Atsumu snaps, and Y/N flinches a little. “Get in the damn truck so I can take ya home.”
“My clothes are soaked,” Y/N says, and he wishes he could see Atsumu. It’s hard to fully know what Atsumu is thinking when he can’t see him.
“And? Get in the truck.”
“I’m going to get your truck all wet if I get in,” Y/N says, but he’s walking up to the door now.
“It’s already gettin’ all wet with the window bein’ down, so hurry your ass up,” Atsumu says, and Y/N grabs the door handle. His grip on it isn’t great because of how wet his hands are, but he manages to open it without issue.
Atsumu is soaked as well, which explains why he doesn’t care about Y/N’s clothes being wet. He really looks like he was nearly drowned, as if he was out in the rain for a while, but Y/N doubts he looks any better.
“Why are you soaked?” Y/N asks as the door closes. Atsumu’s hair is plastered against his head, but he still runs his fingers through it, and excess water runs down his wrist.
“I had to get out to my truck somehow,” Atsumu says, and the rain comes down harder, making the truck shake a little. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself, cause if ya get sick, I ain’t takin’ care of ya.”
It’s unsaid, but they both know Atsumu will take care of him as he always does. Y/N does the same when Atsumu isn’t feeling well—physically and emotionally. They’re just there for each other in a way that doesn’t translate across the board. Because Osamu may meal prep for Y/N and Y/N may help him out in the restaurant sometimes, but they wouldn’t do the things Y/N and Atsumu do for each other. Y/N wouldn’t go over to Osamu’s house when he’s sick to take care of him, sleeping in the living room so he’s not alone for too long.
(Although, Atsumu does have Osamu. He doesn’t really need Y/N, but that’s never been talked about. Osamu just lets Y/N in and says he has to go check on his restaurant before leaving Y/N to care for Atsumu. Really, it’s a strange thing, but it’s somehow understood without saying anything.)
“Worry about yourself,” Y/N says as he rolls his eyes. “You’re more likely to get sick out of the two of us.”
“Am not!” Atsumu says as he starts driving toward Y/N’s apartment. “I’m an athlete, which means I have the strongest immune system ever.”
Y/N chuckles because Atsumu is the one who gets sick more often out of the two of them. “I’m pretty sure Sakusa-kun is the one with the strongest immune system.”
“We ain’t talkin’ bout Omi-kun,” Atsumu says, and his accent is coming out just a little more. It always does when they have these small, meaningless arguments. He’s always been one to get worked up over small things, even when he says he’s not. “We’re talkin’ bout ya and how you’re terrible when you’re sick.”
“I think you’re getting me confused with you,” Y/N says as he presses the back of his head against the headrest. A shiver runs up his spine, and he realizes Atsumu has the air on. “Why the fuck do you have the air on? Do you want us to get a cold?
Atsumu glares at him as he turns the air off. “Is it to yer likin’ now?”
Y/N hums. “Yes, thank you.”
His apartment appears in the window, and excitement rushes through him. All he can think about are the things that motivated him to even walk in the rain, and Atsumu is an added bonus. Atsumu can take a shower too since he has clothes at Y/N’s apartment, and they’ll watch that J-Drama and eat some food together.
Atsumu’s sudden silence has Y/N look over at him, and Atsumu’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly it’s concerning. Y/N just stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out what’s suddenly brought on this behavior. Atsumu has always been someone who just says what he’s thinking or feeling, and when he doesn’t, it still shows. He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve; he wears it proudly on his chest for everyone to see. Y/N just catches on better than most.
“Do you want to come in? I still have meals Osamu-kun made,” Y/N says, and Atsumu’s grip on the steering wheel loosens.
“Really?” Atsumu asks, and he sounds like an excited child.
Y/N chuckles. “Yes, really.”
Atsumu’s smile is bright and warm as they pull into the parking lot. Y/N smiles with him, and the familiar warmth he associates with Atsumu blooms in his chest. When Atsumu looks at him, it only grows to burn a little. It’s when Atsumu unbuckles his seatbelt Y/N realizes that part of him would’ve been crushed if Atsumu had said no. He would’ve understood, but having Atsumu with him will improve his mood better than any J-Drama will.
They look each other in the eyes, and Y/N gently tilts his head a little. “You didn’t get soaked just running out to your truck, did you?”
Atsumu’s smile falters slightly, as if he’s been caught, and his cheeks turn a gentle pink. Y/N nearly laughs, but he holds it in, just like he holds in the urge to run his fingers through Atsumu’s soaked hair. The brassiness in it has Y/N making a mental note to buy Atsumu more purple shampoo. After a moment, Atsumu chuckles a little.
“No, I didn’t,” Atsumu confesses before unbuckling his seat belt. “I didn’t realize the math buildin’ was so big.”
Y/N actually laughs this time. “Yeah, but next time I’ll make it easier to find me.”
Atsumu’s blush only grows to cover his entire face. “Ya better.”
#haikyuu x male reader#haikyuu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x male reader#haikyuu#atsumu x reader#atsumu x male reader
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sundown: Chapter 3
WC: 600
Relationship: SwissAlps
Tags: Transfeminine Mountain, AU; Cowboy!Swiss x Barmaid!Mountain, Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together
She shifts as she slowly wakes, too, nuzzling in closer to him. “Mhm…how’d my girl sleep?” he asks, pulling her impossibly closer.
Notes: This one is just a cute little fill :3
Read chapter 1 here or on AO3.
Read chapter 3 under the cut or on AO3.
Swiss has been in Sundown for two months now and it has been the happiest two months of his entire life. He is a changed man.
His insides twist every time he sees Mounty smile at him, he blushes every time she calls him her boyfriend. He’s never been anyone’s anything, not like that.
Swiss is completely and utterly gone.
He yawns as he slowly comes to, waking in the early morning to sun peeking through the carelessly shut curtains and muffled noises of the town starting yet another day. Swiss takes a deep breath, inhaling the fresh, flowery scent surrounding him. He buries his face in the source of that scent—the soft, dark amber locks of Mounty.
She shifts as she slowly wakes, too, nuzzling in closer to him to get that little bit more comfort before they get up and leave the warm bubble that is their bed.
“G’mornin’,” she mumbles into Swiss’ shoulder and he squeezes her waist in acknowledgement.
“Mhm…how’d my girl sleep?” he asks, pulling her impossibly closer. His morning voice is rumbly and gravelly and it never fails at making Mounty shiver.
“Good,” she replies simply. “You’re comfortable.”
Swiss laughs and the barmaid’s heart throbs. He leans down to press a kiss to her forehead and his stubble scratches her lightly in the best way possible. A forehead kiss isn’t enough, though, and so Mounty tips her head back to demand a real one. Swiss is a weak man; he can’t not oblige.
They get lost in it a bit, as usual, not caring about the work they both have, the outside of their bed in general. They spend the next few minutes—or hours—simply staring at each other with smiles painted on their faces and kissing every five seconds like nothing beside them even exists.
Something beside them does exist, though, and it reminds them of that fact itself. Or rather himself, as Dewdrop comes pounding on their door. “Come on, Rain needs something from yours, Mounty!”
The pair giggles and kisses some more, but soon enough they do emerge from their room and walk down the stairs into the bar area. Dewdrop’s waiting there with a piece of paper—presumably some instructions from Rain—in one hand, and a glass of water in the other.
“Woah, Dew, you alright?” Swiss asks with a smirk.
“Yeah…why?” the other asks, a little confused. Mounty understands, though, and she smiles as she takes the paper from Dewdrop to go fetch what his partner needs.
“Water at nine in the morning? Not beer?” Swiss teases and Dewdrop scoffs, hitting him lightly on the shoulder.
“According to Phantom I should hydrate myself properly in the morning before work,” the man sighs. He’s obviously not happy about that. “Rain agrees and so I’m being blackmailed into it every morning.”
He cringes as he takes another sip and Swiss bursts out laughing at his face—looking like he’s just been poisoned at the very least. Just then Mounty returns and she points at Swiss, “Careful, I should be doing the same to you.”
Swiss stops laughing.
“Uh, anyway,” he clears his throat, “Dew, would you mind taking a look at Monty’s hooves when you’ve got a minute? I think she needs a trim now that we ain't wearing them down on the road.”
“Mhm, sure. I’ll be going now,” Dewdrop nods and leaves his—still half full—glass on the counter completely by accident. Mounty shakes her head and chuckles as she walks over to Swiss. He throws an arm over her shoulder and brings her close to kiss her once again.
“Ready for the day, sweetheart?” he asks.
“As long as you stay with me.”
#hypnone writes#nameless ghouls#the band ghost#swiss ghoul#mountain ghoul#swissalps#swissalps' sundown
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
Green-eyed
Pairing: Kang Yeosang (Ateez) x GN!Reader; Genre: Idol AU, Established Relationship, Angst, Fluff, SMAU; Rating: sfw, NC-17; Warnings: jealousy, woo being a menace, suggestive, allusions to sex; Wordcount: 907
Summary: After finding concert tickets for another group, Yeosang was blinded by jealousy and demanded an explanation immediately. In his fit he came to one conclusion after another - one worse than the one prior. Would you actually have an explanation though?
A/N: @mingsolo brought the idea to the net and obviously I - as well as @daemour and @sanjoongie - immediately jumped on board! So jealous Ateez when you go on a concert... (mine's definitely based on that discussion video!)
Yeosang saw the rolling eye emoji followed by the can’t see monkey emoji as your last response before he put his phone away and turned his attention to his best friend. “You need to leave. Now.”
Wooyoung jumped up from the couch, staring at Yeosang with wide eyes as he screeched in disbelief. “WHAT?”
Yeosang winced at the volume and pitch, even though he should be used to it after years of being Wooyoung’s friend. He unconsciously pressed a finger close to his ear as if that pressure would ease the pain from his eardrum. “Y/N’s coming home soon and if you don’t want to be killed because you opened the mail, you should leave now.”
“What? Where’s that confident guy from a few minutes ago?! You were hellbent on telling Y/N your piece of mind and now you’re kicking me out?” Wooyoung whined loudly, before he quickly leaned forward and grabbed his friend’s phone, opening the messenger app and scanning through the messages Yeosang had exchanged with you.
Yeosang protested weakly, knowing if Wooyoung had his mind set on something, he wouldn’t be able to change it. Instead he simply stood there, waiting for Wooyoung to return his phone.
“Ahhhh”, Wooyoung exclaimed loudly, pointing an accusing finger towards his friend. “Now it all makes sense!”
“Mystery solved. You can leave now.”
“You know that Y/N still hasn’t given you a real explanation though!”
Yeosang’s brows furrowed in thought. He picked up his phone again, scrolling through the messages. “Y/N said…”
“Y/N asked you what there was to explain but didn’t say anything regarding why there were tickets for a different group!” Wooyoung interrupted Yeosang, completely jumping up from the couch and grabbing his shoulders, shaking them almost violently.
You walked into your shared apartment, seeing Wooyoung arguing with a frowning Yeosang. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, leaning against the doorframe as you watched them for a while. Once you had enough of Wooyoung trying to get into your boyfriend’s head, you cleared your throat.
“You still haven’t explained the tickets!” Wooyoung immediately exclaimed as he saw you, ignoring how you glared at him.
“Yeosang?” Your voice was sweet but cold at the same time, making Wooyoung halt in his ranting and nervously glance at his friend, who stared at you with wide eyes. “Be ready to call an ambulance for him.”
“I’M LEAVING!” Wooyoung yelled out, rushing out of the room, before you could even push yourself from the doorframe. “REMEMBER THE EXPLANATION THOUGH!”
“Yah!” You turned around, ready to smack him but the door fell already shut.
“Woo is right though”, Yeosang mumbled, grabbing your attention once more, “you haven’t explained the tickets at all.”
You sighed tiredly and walked over to the couch, plopping down on it and patting the cushion next to you. Your eyes immediately found the opened envelope lying on the couch table, the two tickets on top of it. “I do have an explanation but tell me first why’d you need one.”
As Yeosang sat down next to you, you turned around to look at him, imploring his features as if they’d be able to give you an answer already. He avoided eye contact, his gaze jumping all over the place. “I might be jealous.”
It took everything within you not to coo at him and the adorable pout on his lips. “Have you even looked at the tickets more closely?”
“What do you mean?” Yeosang frowned again, feeling a slight tinge of irritation again as you continued to avoid explaining yourself.
“I’m saying you might know my explanation if you look at the tickets properly.”
Yeosang leaned forward and grabbed one of the tickets, twisting and turning it between his fingers. “I don’t get it.”
This time you couldn’t help yourself but to coo and scoot over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. “It’s your favourite band. I wanted them to be a surprise gift for you but I guess your bestie ruined the surprise.”
Yeosang’s eyes widened and his head turned almost mechanically towards you. “For me?”
You nodded before leaning your head on his shoulder. “It’s been quite a while since we had a date night and I thought this might be something you’d really enjoy. As long as that green-eyed monster only makes an appearance through coloured contact lenses.”
Yeosang chuckled in embarrassment, hiding half of his face behind his hand. He placed the ticket back down on the table before he turned on the cushion and wrapped his larger form around you. “I’m sorry. I jumped to conclusions and said some really stupid things.”
You nodded, rubbing softly over his back with your hand. “Yeah, you did. And I still intend on making you pay for that.” You snickered upon hearing his low whine. “Which means no cumming unless I tell you to.”
“Fuck”, Yeosang exhaled shakily, feeling himself twitch already at the thought alone.
You snickered again and leaned back. “Impatient, aren’t we?” You raised an eyebrow, smirking at Yeosang, who nodded shyly. “Well, I can’t wait to torture you the rest of the night”, you teased him, pecking his lips shortly, “so get ready in the bedroom while I wash up.”
He didn’t need to be told twice, eager to follow your commands and hoping to redeem himself after being so openly stupid.
Maybe after tonight he’d learn how to control his jealousy.
© all rights reserved
Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @songsoomin
#pirateeznet#cultofdionysusnet#kwritersworldnet#kdiarynet#wkcnet#kvanity#jealous!teezers#kang yeosang#ateez#ateez yeosang#smau#one shot#ateez smau#ateez one shot#yeosang smau#yeosang one shot#ateez fanfic#yeosang fanfic#green-eyed
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Inevitable Things: chapter five
Aizawa x reader fic
cw: cisfem reader, no quirks, office au, miscommunications, slow burn. full tags available on AO3 (linked in masterlist)
previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter
Fridays are the only day you carve out time for lunch. Less than coincidentally, Fridays are also the only day lunch is catered.
“Here-” Izuku jams his bowl of take out into Katsuki’s face. “Does it smell like there’s peanuts in here?”
Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku’s fiance, is only half as ornery as he looks. A premature wrinkle has formed in between his brows, a sign of his almost constant annoyance. His straw colored hair is a sharp contrast to his deep red eyes, currently narrowed in disgust.
“Get this shit out of my fucking face,” he groans. “I’m not a fucking allergy alert dog-- I can’t smell peanuts.”
“To be fair-” Ochako interjects through a mouthful. She’s the opposite of Katsuki: dark hair, round eyes, a smile so sweet that it makes your teeth hurt. Her cheeks are always flushed, spots of broken blood vessels spattered like freckles. “Peanuts do have a smell.”
“Did you ask him to smell for penis?” Denki says, too loud to be genuine. “Kind of homophobic to ask a gay guy that.”
Both men give him identical deadpan stares.
“That’s just his fucking country-ass accent.” Katsuki brushes Denki off and turns back to the curly haired man. “Why would chicken have peanuts in it anyway?”
“The o’l.” Izuku stresses.
“The what?”
“Some places use peanut o’l.”
“Say oil.”
Izuku sneers a bit in return, smoothing out the curves of his accent. “Oy-I’ll.”
“Jesus christ, I’m marrying a hick.” Katsuki leans back in his chair and meets your eye with a jerk of his chin. “Can you believe this?”
You snap back into focus. Your own lunch is untouched, fork still in its little plastic wrapper. Hunger nips at your stomach, but nausea wins over today. The cafeteria isn’t very busy, but in the next couple minutes everyone will start pouring in. The lot of you arrived early to get the best seating-- a little couch and coffee table in the corner, a perfect place to eat and people watch.
“Oh, yeah, uh- Izuku, they have an allergen free option.”
“Well, yeah, but-” He tilts his head as he talks, watching you with those wide, green eyes, like he sees something just below the surface. “It doesn't have chicken-- are you good?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” Katsuki fingers a piece of Izuku’s food and pops it into his mouth, much to the man’s dismay. “You’ve been making that sad little face all day.”
You pout a bit harder at that. Shit-- you thought you were being subtle. You haven’t been able to walk this whole Aizawa thing off yet, despite all of your attempts. No amount of emails, meetings, and other petty office bullshit managed to distract you from the absolute shock and humiliation of… whatever that was.
Embarrassment.
Embarrassment? You’re certainly not the prettiest girl in the office, but embarrassing? That makes your gums ache, like a punch to the nose, and it makes you feel dirty, like the fall to the ground afterwards.
“You’re doing it again.” Ochako points to your face and it’s apparently sadness. “What’s going on?”
You hem a bit, before condensing it the best you can.
“I’m having issues with a guy.” What an understatement.
A collective glance is shared between the group.
“Touya again?”
Again, Touya haunts a room he’s never been in. You debate what to say. If you admit to it being someone new, they might start sniffing around and jump to conclusions-- though Aizawa would certainly be the last assumption they would make, you still can’t risk it. Besides, you don’t need a gaggle of 23 year olds dissecting your every move. They’re going to jump to some stupid conclusion, like you’re dating Toshinori, if you aren’t careful.
“Yeah, it’s Touya,” you lie, as sheepishly as you can. “Oops.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Katsuki rolls his eyes so hard that you imagine his brain must hurt. “Again?”
“Shh, just tell us what happened,” Izuku urges, elbowing his partner rather sharply.
“I don't know where I stand with him. It's so-- Ugh, I thought things were going to start going well and then it was just ice cold.” You press your palms into your eyes and sigh. The pressure feels good and helps with the remnants of your hangover. You need an electrolyte drink, stat. Maybe another fucking drink too. “And I’m not even sure why I’m surprised because it’s ice cold a lot.”
When you look up, Ochako is offering a hand, palm up and open. When you take it, she giggles a bit, squeezing gently.
“I think you need to prioritize yourself.”
Denki nods in agreement, cheeks stuffed with food. He’s finished his meal and started stabbing bits of yours. You just push the whole bowl towards him in defeat and slump down into the couch.
“Stop giving men who treat you poorly the time of day.” Ochako says. “When you let them in again and again, you’re basically, like, giving them permission to do this stuff.”
“Yeah!” Denki says through a mouthful. “Cut that fucker off! Don’t even talk to him!”
“Oh, I dunno--” You glance between them. “I think that’d be mean.”
Conflict makes your head spin. It’s so much easier to roll over and take whatever people give you, negative or otherwise. It’s what made your relationship with Touya work-- and it’s what’s allowed you to stay in this job for so long.
“Good!” Denki says. “He deserves it.”
“You deserve to be a little mean and a little angry when people treat you poorly.” She smiles again, wider this time. “Grow some balls. Stand up for yourself.”
“Yeah! Balls!” Denki agrees.
You suck on your bottom lip and turn the idea over in your head. Are you even angry at Aizawa? Or just hurt and confused? Right now, those things may as well be the same thing-- they certainly burn the same in your chest. Cruelty isn’t your usual indulgence…
But it’s someone else’s.
“What do you think?” You turn to Katsuki, who’s been scrolling through twitter for a bit now. His face doesn’t change when he speaks, locked into a general annoyance.
“I think you should kill that fucker.”
You turn to Izuku, the rational one of the couple. He shrugs, straw in mouth and completely unamused.
“Oh, I also think you should kill him,” he says, tone matching Katsuki’s.
Not helpful.
“Listen--” Katsuki leans forward, elbows on his spread knees. He uses a fork to articulate as he speaks. “I’m the expert on being a cunt-”
“-we don’t use that word!” Ochako grimaces.
“And it’s the most freeing and addictive thing you can be.” The tongs of the fork point directly towards you, as sharp as his gaze. “More people should be cunts more often. The world would be a happier place.”
Ochako gasps. “I don’t agree with that at all!”
“Oh please, miss goody-goody,” Katsuki sneers. “You wouldn't need to go to kickboxing five times a week if you let your anger out day to day like a normal motherfucker.”
The girl of the group puffs out her cheeks, but does not argue back. Izuku pats her shoulder affectionately. His food is still untouched, but his free hand guards it from Denki.
“I'm telling you. Try it out. You’ll like it.” Katsuki leans back into his seat. “Or don't. Your life.”
“Question-” The other blonde pipes up. “Did you, like, do something?”
“Kaminari!”
“I mean, like, was there a catalyst?” “A fight or a date or-?”
You know exactly what drives Touya away everytime, but Aizawa is a new beast. Did you breathe wrong or--
“Oh, I uh,” A realization hits you. “I ignored a couple texts, I guess.”
Suddenly, you’re very aware of the outline of your phone and how it presses into your pocket. If there wasn’t a chance of you flashing the group pictures of their boss, you’d check it immediately, but you can’t mentally handle the risk.
“What an overreaction,” Ochako sighs. “Dump him forever and move on-- Mr. Hizashi and his wife-”
“We aren’t like that.” Ugh. You love Hizashi, but the trio relationship isn’t your speed. “Besides, I don’t like blondes.”
The two toe-heads of the group roll their eyes in a practiced synchrony. Ochako’s smile changes a little bit, something tighter and brighter; is she excited that you aren’t interested? Interesting and a bit gross: she’s too young for that. They’re more than ten years older than her-
(How old is Aizawa? He went to school with Hizashi, so he’s at least 38-- but you could have sworn there were whispers of his fortieth last year. You’ll have to snoop.)
“We’re in agreement. Be a cunt, move on. The end.” Katsuki turns away from you, done with this topic. “Izuku, just fucking eat it already.”
The boy takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his curly hair. “Well, alright, but if I get hives, you’re the one who has to deal with me.”
…
Be mean.
You’re written it on a sticky note and placed it under your computer monitor, like some sort of fucked up mantra. The mere idea of it feels antithetical to who you are at your core; you enjoy helping people, you love making the world better. That’s why you work like a dog for the company-- you know it’s improving the lives of its customers. If Toshinori wasn’t sick, you know he’d be doing even more too.
On the other hand, being nice has led to your own detriment many times. Touya has hurt you, your parents, and now even Aizawa. And you can’t even blame Aizawa, can you? Texting him was your mistake--
You rest your forehead against your desk. There’s still a sticky spot from when you spilled your coffee yesterday. God, yesterday feels so close and yet so far away. How does a man yoyo between yelling at you, sending you his weiner, then telling you that you’re embarrassing? The idea of ‘always wanted you’ goes flying out the window.
Just as you try and put yourself to work, you hear it. The familiar lopsided stomp. Fuck, it’s him, probably looking for his afternoon coffee. He’s been by much less than usual, a fact you’re very grateful for, so you haven’t even thought about the pot since before lunch. You glance over and see it’s empty. Crap.
As you start to get up, the sticky note catches your eye again. Be mean. That’s right. Why are you popping out of your chair for this, this, this--- total fucking cunt? Your chair squeaks with the force you sit down with. You try to embody Katsuki with your face - furrowing your brow and yet keeping your mouth unaffected-- and your worst nightmare turns the corner.
You keep typing and hope Aizawa doesn't notice that it's the same words over and over again, hit in the same rhythm. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. He waits a long moment, then clears his throat louder. You don't gift him your attention until he grumbles something under his breath, shifting his weight on to his other leg. Just as he begins to say something, you interject.
“I had more important things to focus on,” you lie. “You can figure out how to brew coffee, Mr.// Engineer.”
You throw in that last bit without thinking, but the bite rolls so easily off of your tongue. It’s nothing like your usual tone, but it feels so, so right. From the corner of your vision you can see his literally reel back, blinking hard,
“That’s how it’s going to be?”
You don’t respond. P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l P-e-a-n-u-t-O-i-l. Your fingers shake from the adrenaline boost. Ochako was right; don't even give this man the time of day.
“It's going to be like that?” He yanks the pot from its stand. “Fine.”
You have to muster all of willpower not to grin as he starts slamming open the drawers and scrounging around for supplies. It takes a whole ten minutes before he presses brew, then another five before the pot is almost half full. The whole time he grumbles to himself, leaning his whole weight against the flimsy table.
This is good. Too good. The vindictive rush of power feels almost sexual in the way it satisfies. Teeth dig into your lip as you hold back a smile even harder.
Embarrassment? You'll show him what embarrassment really means.
Finally, he pours himself a cup. He doesn't fill his thermos nearly as much as he normally does, most likely trying to leave as quickly as possible. Just as he starts to turn, you get up out of your chair and walk over. You take one of the little disposable cups from the stack and take your time adding three sugars and two cream, each one at a time, as he lurks there. Then, you pour the coffee, thick and oddly gritty into your cup. You finally meet his eye when you take a swig.
Aizawa’s face is set hard, small eyes narrowed even tighter. His lips are screwed up with annoyance, wrinkling his low bridged nose. Pissed would be an understatement. Just as you brace for another yelling match, he turns away, marching down the hall.
“Enjoy the fucking coffee.”
Oh, Katsuki was right. Being mean tastes good.
….This coffee, however, does not.
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oooh, those prompts sure do look amazing… the touch one??? I’m so unsure on which one I might be in a crisis….
Soo… after muuuch deliberation, may ask about nr. 17 (holding the other’s chin up) with my girl Carrie? (I have to stay loyal to her, though I love all the other Silver Bullets girls equally)
Thank you 💖
- Carrie anon
carrie anon my apologies for how incredibly late this is (along with the other prompts sitting in the askbox lol) finals season will forever be a struggle lmao. BUT! i'm taking a mental break and here we are with a piece for my beans, carrie x dougie, carrie anon!! :D VERY excited to post this, we get a bit more with carrie's feelings as she's pretty good at hiding them (but not great with hiding them lol). so please enjoy!!
bergie doesn't strike out
(a/n): for the carrie x dougie girlies because this prompt i enjoyed and i figured i'd add some more to carrie's background - a struggle to fit in, to feel wanted, in a time of war. yeah, she's going through it to say the least and in some way, we all can get why :'( please enjoy!
Carrie watched from behind her shot glass as James Douglass waltzed over to the congregating group of Clubmobile girls and talked his talk, pulling out his lighter and offering to light up cigarettes, only before making quite the show of winking and meandering away back towards where he had been previously stood with Hambone and Murphy. She watched him let out a barking laugh before pointing to their cups and nodding to the bar. And that's when he started waltzing over to the bar, where she was stood, rather enjoying her stare-down with her shot glass instead of having to focus on him.
"Carrie Achterbeg, haven't seen you in a minute." she heard him say as he approached - which albeit was the truth. She hadn't come out to one of these in a couple of weeks. After that awkward misunderstanding with one of the guys from the 418th - radio operator, kind eyes, but horrible ego - after he had tried to plant one on her, she didn't want anything to do with the flying club, drinks and pilots. Tonight though was different. And after those last few missions, she needed some sort of melancholy distraction, even if it were a shot or two stood alone at the bar.
"Aren't you a sight for sore ey-" Carrie glanced over at James Douglass and shoved him in the shoulder roughly before throwing back her shot and sighing.
"Don't finish that sentence." she managed out, coughing briefly and then looked at him.
"Dually noted." Dougie said, before leaning up on the bar next to her and watching the side of her face, "What's eating you?" Carrie let out a dry laugh and looked over at him.
"I should be asking you the same thing," she said, before lowering your voice, "struck out, huh?" Dougie raised a brow in her direction and she nodded over his shoulder.
"Tatty, Helen, Virginia…." Carrie said, "Christ, Dougie, you struck out and you struck out hard." Dougie rolled his eyes and leaned more against the bar and nodded to the tender.
"Struck out is a strong word to use in that sense-"
"Sure as hell is currently the right word-"
"There's other words-"
"Struck out is as good as it comes." Carrie said to him and he took the beer from the tender and sighed, before taking a long sip. She watched him for a moment, biting the inside of her lip and then glanced back at her empty shot glass.
She was just punchy, she wasn't in the best of moods, and James Douglass was beginning to grow on her in ways she hadn't expected nor entirely wanted. And her mind was trying to ignore it.
"Why haven't you been coming recently?" Dougie asked her as he casually sipped on his beer, eyes wandering out to the dance floor and then back to her, before grinning wide, "Hambone's been missing ya." Carrie sighed and then stood up straighter and pushed her hair behind her ears and glanced at him.
"Personal choice." she said and then shrugged as she looked out towards the dance floor again, "You missing me, too? You seemed real tangled up with those guys over there. Surprised you came over to say hello." She raised a brow at him and he shrugged her off. Watching him, she then turned, only to be stopped by his arm jutting out.
"Where you going?"
"Just taking a lap around," she said with a shrug, "talk to some people I haven't seen before, ya know, get eyes on everyone." He watched her, a mixture of adornment it seemed and surprise, as she straightened her jacket and then looked at him.
"Everything look good?" she asked him, holding out her arms like she was about to go off on her first day at school and wanted her uniform in check. Dougie held her gaze for a moment before he let his eyes wash down her form and then back up to her face again. Carrie watched him, her collar turning hot as he took a slow sip and let his eyes rest on hers again, that lazy smile growing on his face as he nodded.
"Good is a strong word-"
"Dougie, don't you dare." Carrie muttered, a small smile growing on her face as she shoved at his shoulder, and repositioned herself, hands on her hips and sighed, "Seriously." For a moment, they just watched each other and it should've felt awkward, but in all actuality - it wasn't. And knowing that he was looking at her that fondly almost made her want to stay and talk to him more. But she wasn't like that it seemed.
"You look great," Dougie said, his voice strained as he nodded, "don't let none of those fools do anything funny, alright?" Now, it was Carrie's turn to let out a laugh and raise her brow.
"Since when did you care?" she asked quickly, crossing her arms, "'Cause three weeks ago, I had that stupid radio operator from the 418th practically down my throat and you barely batted an eye." A few onlookers glanced towards the two and it took Carrie a few moments to recognize how loud she had gotten and suddenly emotional in her words. And why did she care if Dougie had barely batted an eye? He shouldn't have needed to. They weren't technically even friends, just a joke or two here and there, some teasing and good-natured tomfoolery, but nothing more. Why did she care that he should care? Carrie sighed. Dougie looked up at her with those big, slightly worried eyes and bit back his lip before nodding.
"Well, now that you've made me aware of that, maybe I will bat an eye next time." Dougie said, looking up at her as his fingers danced against the cool mug of beer, "Who the hell was it?" Carrie stared at him and then blinked slowly.
"It doesn't matter-"
"That's why you didn't come-"
"Dougie-"
"Because he had-"
"Dougie." Carrie said, stepping closer to him, and holding his gaze right in her own, her hand ghosting over his arm as if to latch onto him, but failing to do so, "Let it go. It's over now."
"You brought it up." Dougie said back quickly, but she stopped him with a shake of the head. But then she stood quiet for a moment and let her thoughts grow. She had brought it up. Almost as if she had wanted him to know. Because no one had known. Because she'd been embarrassed that she let herself think that maybe that was a good guy, someone she could live a life with and all he had wanted was a kiss. It was a stupid thought.
"Who was it, Carrie, seriously?" Dougie asked her as she balled up her fists and looked anywhere but his face, which she knew had a look on it that would make her lose it, "A guy from the 418th, huh? He ever heard about a thing called messing with the bull, you damn well be getting the horns-"
"Shh, keep your voice down!" Carrie muttered, bringing a finger in front of her mouth and looking at him with wide eyes, "He was just some jackass that thought I was there to have a good time and that was it." Dougie grew quiet as he watched her. Whatever it was between them seemed to simmer and they both seemed to understand in that minute what she meant. But she wouldn't dare actually say why she had even bothered kissing the guy, or why Dougie was looking at her like that.
"He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Dougie said, his voice softer than it normally was, that look in his eye deeper and darker, "I know a guy-"
"No." Carrie said, her cheeks scarlet, "It was just a stupid kiss, that's it. It's over. I just….I was trying to avoid the situation again and…." She trailed off. She was over talking about it to be completely honest. She looked up at him.
"I'm fine." she said with an honest nod, "Thank you for your…..concern." Dougie watched her, with a slow nod and licked his lips, like he was still digesting her words in their entirety. He didn't say much, he just watched her and she didn't entirely want to complain about that because for one, his eyes were some of the kindness she'd probably seen on this side of the world. And for once, they were eyes that looked at her in a way other guys didn't.
"Just…go have some fun," Dougie said quietly, "give me a look if a guy does something stupid, alright?" And she nodded and looked up at him, as he smiled softly at her, his eyes darting over her own endless blue ones, an abyss of dampened sea and darkened souls. Lost and harrowing. He leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice.
"Don't strike out." he said with a small chuckle and she looked up at him and brought her pointer finger underneath his chin and prodded him lightly to meet her gaze, before whispering back just as quietly.
"Bergie doesn't strike out."
#masters of the air#mota#mota writings#silver bullets#carrie achterberg#james douglass#carrie x dougie#THEMMMMM#when you can tell they both want to say things to each other but they can't bc they've never crossed that line before#dougie saying she looks great and willing to defend her like bro i WILL just go cry in a corner fr#THEM#i will forever fangirl over these two bc they are absolutely INSANEEE#me yelling from the corner 'just say you like each other and get it over with !!!!'#this is earlier days of them knowing each other but the chemistry is all the same#please enjoy!
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
i like when people describe art as what food it would taste like or what texture it is
makes me think about the art a little more
#text post#someone will say#this art tastes like strawberries!!#and i will stare at the piece again for a minute#then say#ah yes!! this art DOES taste like strawberries!!#this is the best way to describe an artist’s style in my opinion#i see reblogs describing my stuff like this sometimes and it sparks joy#if u reblog i am assigning you a food no questions asked
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
I'm going to kms, I'm at another classical concert but we arrived late so we're not allowed to go in yet, so I'm fucking missing being in the room for one of my favorite composers music live
#they have a tv so you can watch it outside of the concert hall so small mercies#but im so upset#its so painful to sit out here anf listen to his music#and know that im not experiencing it in the concert hall itself#im staring at the screen and im just mourning#its not the main event(which is the main pull) and theyll let us in afterwards#but god to hear Stravinsky and not be in the fucking room#needless to say im crying in public#i keep trying to not be upset but if i focus too much on the music i start crying again#because what if i never get to hear the piece in person again#and i was just kept out of the room because of a few minutes difference#that gate meme 'LET ME IN LET ME INNNNNNN'#my favorite composers are all russian#so to have my first opportunity at seeing that type of classical music alive be ruined is so upsetting#like omg a composer i like! and then im metaphorically forced to put my nose against the glass#instead of hearing it to its fullest extent#catie.rambling.txt
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
working on my draft for finals powerpoint and girl. draw less.
#beef trimmings#staring at the amount of sketchbook page sketches I have for typography weeks like Im so glad you enjoyed yourself but im killing you#this powerpoint is going to be so so so so so long im gonna have to divide it up#and I need to add thoughts n reflections#🙏 SIGH. it is funny how many sketches I have for typography week and the#actual final piece is gonna be a mini-zine I whip up in the last minute#because the original plan I had was a 12 page comic that was fully inked; colored and shaded and like WHO HAS THE TIME. I HAVE OTHER THINGS#THAT NEED TO GET DONE!#like I love my comic idea but again. DRAW LESS. you do not have the timeeee#deceased on the floor maybe ill try and finish the comic over easter
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
god i fucking love music
#could just listen and stare off into space for hours#songs that i listened to that prompted me to say this today:#ashura clock by p model (the way the buzzer sounds starts again at the halfway point when the pre chorus starts again???)#new body rhumba by lcd sound system (plus visualization of the ending scene of white noise where theyre throwing all the plastic bags)#the stains of time from MGR soundtrack (AND IT WILL COME. LIKE A FLOOD OF PAIN. POURING DOWN ON ME)#the live version of pagan poetry by björk (back up singers have great alto voices)#грезы by IC3PEAK (godddd the swells and release in a song that only lasts 1 minute 44 seconds)#Whirring by the Joy Formidable (huuuuu chant along with the chorus every time)#Big Thinks Do Remarkable by And So I Watch You From Afar (THAT RHYTHM IS INCREDIBLE. ik that's math rock baybee but this one is xtra specia#toothless by 100 gecs (sugar fairy sprite music and then the closing synth hook is so crunchy and AAAAAAAAA)#BUBBLES BURIED IN THIS JUNGLE BY DEATHGRIPS (no explanation needed)#angel by massive attack (that woodblock click is something i feel viscerally in my throat. and the bassline is like. mining equipment)#polynomial C by aphex twin (i am doing 1 million calculations a second and they are all wrong)#this must be it by röyksopp (karin's voice is a jam to spread on a nice piece of toast)#graagrggahgsg i LOVE MUSIC GOD
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
#i just finished the last book in the trilogy so i promise i will stop talking about it after this#but all i want to say is#holy. fucking. shit.#i have never cried so fucking hard because of a book#i cried for like 15 minutes#i'm not even kidding#this trilogy and especially the last book broke my heart into a million pieces and put it back together#my god i've read a lot of amazing books and some of them made me feel a lot of things#but this is a whole new level#i'm so sorry to everyone that asked me about this i know this is super vague and annoying but pls trust me when i say i can't tell anyone#even though i loved it very much it was very intense and extreme and fucked up#and it wouldn't feel right to recommend it to someone that i don't know very well#anyway i will never be ok again#i will never get over this#how am i supposed to sleep or go to work tomorrow#all i wanna do is stay in bed and stare at the ceiling#ok i'm done now (i think) fjskgs
3 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
janitnoir
Mops Twice
iferts
FernandaRG
jungkookslipring
Shooky’s Father
lirotation
Rotating Love Interest
livingoutload
i really think im invaluable