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n0v4t33z · 10 months

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The Syndicate - Chapter 3: Soft Hearted Criminal

Pairings: Choi San X Female Reader, Park Seonghwa X Female Reader, Ateez X Female Reader

Summary: Y/N is a Detective with a promising future in the police department until she's kidnapped by the infamous mafia boss Choi San and from him, she learns the dark secrets her superior has been hiding the whole time so she teams up with him in order to put a stop to it.

Genre: Lots of angst, Romance, Crime Fiction, Psychological Drama

Word Count: 6k

Tags/Warnings: For Mature Audiences, Language, Graphic Violence, Mentions of Illegal activities (i.e Kidnapping, extortion, assassination etc.), y/n gets roughed up by Wooyoung like twice , Slow Burn, Fluff sometimes, Work In Progress, Non-Idol AU, Mafia AU, Very suggestive at times, y/n cries alot, y/n having inner turmoil, Ateez being bad boys, Wooyoung and Yeosang are a little mean in this story tbh, Guns, Gunshot wounds, Assassination attempt(s) ,mentions death and acts of violence

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Spotify Playlist🎵 | Series Masterlist📝

Author's Note 💌 : I was supposed to post this in the beginning of August but I ended up getting a little impatient so I'm posting it now lol so I hope you guys enjoy this chapter despite how slow it is, I promise the really good chapters are coming soon! -N

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The next day after mindlessly sitting there bored out of my mind I hear a light knock on the door only to see Seonghwa quietly opening the door. He gives me a small smile and mouths the words “Hey” Funnily enough I’m happy to see a criminal keep his word and not lie for once but it also doesn’t mean that I’m completely fond of the guy. Although I guess I can say so far from what he’s shown me I can mildly trust him enough to want to see him again just so I don’t get bored. “You kept your promise..” He presses his finger on his lips and says in a low voice “I told you I’d be back. I came here for a bit because I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I dryly laugh “Oh wow I- Yeah. I’m alright, a bit sore but I’m fine.” He looks at the ground for a few seconds then his gaze meets mine with a small friendly smile “So I brought you a book, I don’t know if you like to read or not but I thought maybe you’d want something to read while you’re here.” He reaches into his jacket and hands me a book, the title being “Dracula”. A smile grows onto my features admiring the cover of the book and back at Seonghwa “Thank you, I was being driven insane in here not having anything to do.” He lowers his voice “When you’re done just let me know and I can bring you another one.” He glances down at his phone looking at the time then he looks back at me slightly disappointed “I have to go now, I’m sorry it was too fast. Maybe next time I’ll be here a little while longer I don’t want San to-” There's a sudden knock at the door in which Seonghwa and I look at each other in shock. “Detective-” San enters the room and looks at both of us then back at Seonghwa “Uh? Aren’t you supposed to be out?” Seonghwa hurriedly gets up “Oh yes, my apologies I was just here dropping a book off for the Detective. She seemed bored so I thought maybe she’d like something to read.” He hums and walks over towards Seonghwa gently patting his shoulder “Make sure not to forget about the other person I told you about.” San glances at Seonghwa with a knowing glance. What was that about? Then again I don’t expect them to tell me anything, I am the prisoner here anyway. Seonghwa gets up and nods “No worries I haven’t forgotten I’ll let you know what I find..” Seonghwa looks at me with a half smile and exits the room leaving San and I alone.

“Good afternoon Detective, are you doing okay?” I shrug “I guess, I’m just sore. Jongho came by earlier this morning to give me some pain killers so I’m okay right now.” San fixes one of his rolled up sleeves. “That’s great to hear that you’re being taken care of.“ I stare at my lap not wanting to meet San’s eyes “It would be nicer if I could be let go.” San chuckles “Sorry Detective, but I can’t. Not until that issue with your superior is fixed” Of course he can’t, his revenge is his priority. “So you’re forcing me to stay just because you say so? What? Do you want me to get to know you or something too?” He shrugs “I don’t know about that, but if I'm being honest I think you know far more about me than I even know about myself.” I scoff ”That’s not true.” San lifts my chin up and looks me in the eye walking up dangerously close in front of me “You think I didn’t read all your reports and the file you have on me? You specifically stated my height and the previous homes that my family and I have lived in, including the ones before my dad became wealthy. Not many people know about my childhood home, the very detailed reports on the crime scenes I’ve been involved in just tells me that you dedicated most of your time investigating me.” Okay, I have a hard copy of his file on hand but I totally forgot I also have one in the database too just in case. Fuck, so that’s how he read it. I turn my face away and grumble ”I’m just doing my job, it’s not because you’re interesting or anything.” He chuckles “i see, well your obsession with me says otherwise.” I snap my head in his direction and raise my eyebrow “Excuse me? My only obsession is to put you in jail.” He smiles and leans in a few inches away from me “If you think you can do it, go for it. From where you’re sitting though I’d like to see you try.” I glare at him and swing my handcuffed fists at him, and without any struggle he catches my fists in mid air with his hand “If you want to hurt me you might want to be a little faster than that.” His gaze going from an amused one to a darker expression. Did I really forget who this man is? Choi San, the man wrecking havoc not only here in Ulwood but in my life as of now. The man who gets to choose what my fate is and here I am trying to hit him. So smart y/n.

I nervously swallow and lower my fists onto my lap “I-I’m sorry.” He lets out an exasperated sigh and runs his hand through his dark hair “How about we start over?” I awkwardly force a smile “Oh, uh okay.” What is wrong with me?! If I piss him off the only way I'm getting out of here is dead. “That doesn’t mean to be awkward, just be yourself.” How am I supposed to be myself when I’m literally in fear of whether or not he’s going to do something to me? Gosh, I’m going to have to just play along. I awkwardly lean back onto the headboard behind me “Fine. Why are you getting so comfortable?” San sits next to me and gives me a dimpled smile “Why not?” I nervously laugh “I mean I’m sorry but seeing you get so comfortable on my bed is just off putting.” I fidget with the chain on my handcuffs feeling the coolness of the metal between my fingers. San responds “You’re right, I guess it is kind of weird for a cop to see the criminal they’re after’s humanity.” The humanity in San? You’d think the man lost that long ago seeing his file. “Yeah, but I guess we can both learn from each other.” I force a smile and continue “So, um, What about your role model? Do you have one?” He glances at me amusingly “Wow detective these questions- Do you usually talk to people like this or?” Unable to cross my arms because of the handcuffs I roll my eyes “You literally kidnapped me, how am I supposed to talk to you like I'm not your whole ass prisoner?” San scoots closer towards me “I make you nervous don’t I?” There he goes again acting like that. “What? No, you just annoy me.” He looks deep into my eyes smirking, my ears and cheeks feeling very warm “ Hm, I don’t? Then why are your cheeks bright red?” He asks with a hint of playfulness in his voice. I thickly swallow and shake my head “No reason, it’s just really warm in here.” He chuckles “Oh, is it?”

He reaches over and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear “You’re very pretty Detective.” His cat like eyes turn into crescents when he smiles causing my heart to begin to race “Thank you” I respond trying to pass off unaffected by his charm but utterly failing. He gently brushes his fingers against the bruise left on my cheek making me slightly pull away. He gives me a slightly sad expression and sighs “I wish things would have turned out different and I didn’t have to resort to this type of thing.” Nervously I reach over to gently set my hand on his forearm, as annoying as he is now's my chance. “You know you can stop this right? Just let me go and I will see everything you need to be taken care of will happen, I’ll make sure to have the charges against you dropped.” He looks down at my hand holding his arm then looks back at me “No, I just wish it wasn’t you who has to go through this but unfortunately your partner wasn’t enough to bring Lee's attention or it would have been him who would have been taken.” I blink slightly taken aback and he continues “So, I’m sorry Detective. I just have to do this for my father because as an answer to your question from earlier, my father is my role model.. I know he probably wouldn’t have agreed with how I’m handling it but to me it’s what makes sense considering that bastard’s lack of loyalty towards my father. ” He’s crazy, but unfortunately I understand where he’s coming from. “I get it, but don’t you think he’ll be humiliated even more if he gets arrested? I’d like to add that in prison he’ll be a constant target because he’s a former cop.” San smiles “I’ll think about it” He’s lying, he’s just trying to change the subject.

“You know, I don’t know you on a personal level despite how much I know about you on file but what I do know is right now your hand is being forced. I know you don’t want to do any of this.” Maybe playing good cop as much as I can will help. He looks at the ground almost like he’s lost in thought “Yeah, something like that but not quite.” I lean in a little closer in hopes he hears me a little better “So tell me, is the Choi San you show the world the same one at home with his family, or is he different?” He glances up at me meeting my eyes “Actually, he’s different. I’ll go as far to admit that I have several versions of myself. How the world around me sees me, how my family and those closest to me see me, and lastly how I truly am.” I’m not surprised but that’s honestly sad. He probably had big shoes to fill when he took over for his father. “I see, so who is the true Choi San then? Is he kind?” Let’s see if I can get him to open up a little more. He nods “He is actually. I’m just normal, I’m nothing special. I only took over because I had to, Wooyoung suggested it would be good for my character since he thought I was too nice sometimes. Unfortunately after I took over I was not only under my family’s pressure but also under our allies’ pressure to continue to be just as equally harsh if not more than my father. I knew from the moment I took over that handling things peacefully was no longer an option out fear that my lack of experience would make them think they could just walk all over me.” I can tell he’s holding back, he doesn’t want to just say it. I can see why it would be hard for him to admit. “So what you’re saying is that the reason your crimes are so violent and harsh is because you’re under inmense pressure by the people who surround you to be more like your father, not because you want to right?” Gosh, I just feel so bad for him. That must be a heavy burden to carry all by himself. “Yes, kind of.” I press my lips into a smile “Well, just know you can always talk to me as long as I’m here. I’ll listen to you, I know it seems ironic with me being a cop and all but I guess since I’m here it doesn’t really count since I can’t really do anything..” He reaches over and removes my handcuffs “You’re right, you’re just a normal girl behind that detective facade you put up.” I get up and stretch my arms and legs “And you’re a regular guy hiding behind the mask of an evil mafia kingpin” He smirks “You’re very poetic Detective.”

He reaches over for my hand and pulls me to sit down again only he doesn’t let go of my hand and just holds it “You know, I don’t think I was supposed to you all of that.” I shake my head “Don’t worry, I’m not going to use anything against you if that’s what you’re thinking.” He lets go of my hand and slightly narrows his eyes “Okay, so how do you do it?” I furrow my brows “Uh, what do you mean? Do what?” Is he catching on? Oh gosh “You know, get people to feel so comfortable around you. Is that a cop technique or something?” It's not what I thought he was going to ask but what a relief. “Honestly I just treat people like humans, that’s it there's really no trick there.” From the corner of my eyes I notice him intently watching me and as much as I don't want to admit this, looking at his general direction is making me really shy, I feel like I shouldn't be looking at him "You are very sweet considering the type of situation you're in." I dryly laugh "You know being mean won't do me any favors and the last thing I want is for me to have to deal with Wooyoung or worse, a pissed off San. So I'd rather not." He chuckles, why is he looking at me like that? He's supposed to be my enemy why is it making me feel this way. “ Didn't you just now try to beat me with your fists and you say I'm the scary one?" I roll my eyes playfully while gently patting his shoulder "Yeah, well I'm not the criminal here sir." He blinks " What? So am I really that scary?” I nod letting out a nervous laugh “Yeah, most of my colleagues would always tell me how they’d be terrified if they ever had to face you.” San’s tongue touches the inside of his cheek looking a bit satisfied “Ah, so does that include you?” I press my lips into a straight line and I shrug “As long as you’re not pissed.” He gives me a dimpled smile and reaches over to pat my head “You don’t need to worry about that then, I really like talking to you so I doubt you’ll ever piss me off enough for me to react like that.” So as long as I’m good or Captain Lee doesn’t fuck everything up then I should be good. Stay on his good side. He lays down patting next to him “Lay with me” I thickly swallow “Um, may I ask why?” He pulls my hand enough to lay me down next to him “No reason, I’ve just heard people have really nice conversations like this.” He glances at me from the corner of his eye “I promise nothing will happen, I won’t touch you if that’s what you’re wondering. I just want to be San for a bit and have a conversation with someone.” I nod “Okay, fair enough” I lay back and turn to him only to realize he was already looking at me a little different than when we first met. Almost like his gaze soften up. I’m hoping being nice to him keeps me in good graces with him so that I can eventually leave this place.

So I think it’s been a month or so since at this point I’ve lost my sense of time. San, Jongho, and Seonghwa are mostly the people I talk to, especially San. He comes in at least a few times everyday to talk and hang out. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that some dark twisted part of me actually thinks he’s kind of cute or at least his more human side of him. Everyone else still kind of scares me especially Wooyoung so I barely say anything to the rest of them and usually staying silent when they enter the room. I'd also be lying if I didn't admit San and I started flirting a little? Okay, more like banter but it leads to the same thing, feelings. Although I'm still not sure if he actually means it or if he's just messing with me to get me to open up. Knowing him, I won't be surprised if he pulls a fast one on me because of his reputation and is just messing with me because he thinks it's a joke.

I sit in bed and I look at the empty dark gray wall grumbling under my breath “I have no idea what’s happening, I just want to leave. It’s been like a month and I already feel like I'm losing it being stuck in here.” I hug myself and bury my face in my knees and I silently begin to tear up from the overwhelming feeling of being homesick. I hate Captain Lee for being so selfish, I’m the one having to go through so much from almost getting my chest caved in to being threatened while he’s back at the station thinking that he’s lucky not having to be in my position and having the whole police force protect him. I really hope he makes the right decision or I won't forgive him for it.

About an hour goes by of me on and off crying ends up with me laying down silently staring at the door until I hear the door unlock. I expected someone else other than San but to my pleasant surprise it was him. Right as he comes in I notice how eerily silent he was, did something happen? HE 's acting quite different than normal. He sets down the food and sits next to me “Hey, I talked to Lee on the phone earlier but I have bad news.” He uncuffs me and holds both my hands giving me an expression with sadness in his eyes, seeing his face like that made my stomach drop. This is not going to be good. He lets out a long sigh and says “He isn’t going to expose himself and he’d rather have you turn up dead than renounce.” I feel nauseous.

I fucking knew it. I ball up my fists and instantaneously my eyes well up with tears making my vision blurry. I get up beginning to pace back and forth, my body feeling like I needed to walk out the anxiousness and anger “That fucking bastard… Now I have to die all because he wants to keep his dirty work under wraps.” I slam my fists onto the surprisingly hard wall completely ignoring the wave of pain going through my hands and wrists. “He fucking promised to get me out of here!!” I turn my back to the wall and slowly fall to the floor crying my eyes out. San walks over to me and sits on the floor next to me and holds my hand gently stroking my shoulder "Look, you’re not going to die." He pauses for a bit almost like he was gathering his thoughts a little. "We’ll make him think you are but you’ll be okay I promise.” I look at San with my eyes still glistening from my tears “What caused you to change your mind about me dying?” He shrugs then lifts up my hand up to his lips and gently kisses my hand. “ Well I was never intending to kill you. I was thinking and I came to the conclusion that yes, I could have easily killed you but those eyes of yours-" He pauses again almost like he was psyching himself up to finish the sentence he started "Those eyes, they made me so weak that evreytime you look at me it makes me really nervous. Almost like if I couldn’t see them anymore I wouldn’t forgive myself." He reaches over and gently squeezes my thigh "Besides, every time I’d come over and hang out with you I'd leave feeling so happy. So happy, that for those few hours I'm with you everything seems perfect.”

My heart isn’t beating faster, my heart isn’t beating faster, I swear it isn’t, I need to get ahold of myself. I look over at his perfectly chiseled face and I notice something I never really did before and it was that gaze that gave away exactly how he felt, the way his gaze lovingly connected to mine without hesitation made my heart race like I ran a marathon. I wrap any arms around San’s waist while I rest my head on his chest “Thank you, I promise to help avenge your father’s death and I'll also make sure to give you back what belongs to you. I owe you.” He looks down at me, pushes a few strands of hair behind my ear and gently strokes my cheek “No, you don’t owe me anything. The last thing I want is for you to think you do. I just don't want you to get hurt because of me.” I shake my head and I grab San’s hand “Look, I was wrong about you. I admit in the beginning I hated you, then after you told me what happened with your dad I sympathized with you but now that it’s been like a month since I’ve been here and that I've gotten to know you a lot more, I admire you. Even if I’m still scared of the type of job you have I've realized we’re not that different, we both have dangerous jobs and for the both of us we both lost someone due to tragedy. You, your dad and me, my grandfather.” I gently stroke San’s hand with my thumb.

“I know that deep down you’re not evil, you’re just working with what life has given you and I won’t judge you for it. I just want to let you know that I'll be here to help, I won’t just stand here and let Captain Lee get away with everything he’s done and not be punished for his actions. Nothing is going to happen to me, if anything now you’ll have knowledge on the police and their tactics and I know for a fact you won’t turn that down.” I give San a small smile then he looks at me and gently rubs his thumb on my cheek “Hm, you’re right I can’t turn that down but I also have something I want to ask you that I hope you don’t turn down either.” Is he going to let me leave? Maybe he feels bad now? “Yes, of course what is it?” San looks deeply into my eyes for a few seconds without saying anything, and slowly he gently tilts my head to look up at him. “Will you be mine?”

Hey, what? Woah. I mean I like him. But should I do it? Will being with him help me or will it seal my fate? Does that mean I can come and go as I please? Maybe that'll help me be trusted a lot more. It's the only chance I've got now. I nod and gently kiss his hand while I hold his hand onto my face “I would love to.” He slowly leans in to kiss me then he pulls back and gently caresses my bottom lip with his thumb “People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, someone so caring and understanding. So I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have someone like you.” It actually happened. Me, a former detective is now dating the Boss of the mob group I used to investigate. What a weird turn of events. I can't be too vulnerable though, despite how I'm feeling at the moment I have to remember all his crimes and that with one false move I could end up with them, another name added to the list of corpses Choi San has accumulated on his file. So as twisted as this is it may work in my favor so I can escape.

I lovingly stare into his beautiful dark eyes “I honestly never thought we’d end up together either, but here you are confessing to me. It seems so surreal.” For a few minutes we sit there in silence in each other's arms until San’s radio goes off with Yeosang saying “San, Ito’s replacement is here he wants to talk.” He slightly rolls his eyes in frustration and presses the button on his radio and says “I’ll be there in a bit.” He gets up and then helps me up and sits me down on the bed then he says “I have to go, but I trust you okay? No more handcuffs.” He kisses my forehead and walks over to the door closing the door behind him. Once he's gone I look at my hands and smile “I’m free.” The next step is to make Steven Lee regret he ever threw me under the bus like that, my mother and all my loved ones will suffer over the loss of Detective Y/N but it won't be in vain. I’d rather have everyone I love think I’m dead than for them to know and live with the guilt of knowing that I no longer serve The System. Jongho, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, and San were right. Criminals do have their own reasons as to why they do the things they do. Sadly the easiest and most satisfying way to solve problems is not always the correct way.

“Hey, angel eyes get dressed you’re going to be properly introduced to everyone, the thing is though they don’t know we’re together yet. We have to wait a little longer for that. I just don’t want them to think anything that’s not true.” He walks up to me and hands me a shopping bag full of clothes. “Don’t worry, I understand. You don’t want them to assume we fucked and that’s why I was left alive.” I get up and I walk towards the bathroom, slightly flustered he pushes his glasses up with his middle finger “Uh yeah, that and I kind of never told them that I wasn't ever planning on killing you mostly because I knew there was going to be issues and no one would want to cooperate properly.” I shrug and open the door to the bathroom “Kinda fucked up but, fair enough.” I wonder how much he keeps from them, how much of a front he puts up around them. It's kind of sad now that I think about it. The poor man can never fully be himself and only carefully curated versions of him to help fit a narrative of his choice.

A few minutes later I step out of the bathroom in an all black ensemble some black jeans, a nice plain black top, a leather jacket, and my black high heeled pumps. “You know I look a little dead with these eye bags under my eyes” San walks up to me pulls me close and gently kisses my forehead “You look beautiful to me, angel eyes." He pushes a few strands of hair behind my ear and continues "Besides meeting the guys today we’re also going to go over how we’re going to help you fake your death.” I fix San’s collar holding back a huge smile. “Alright, sounds like a plan.”

San and I walk down the hallway in to a huge conference room except it was more chaotic, maps, notes, and a bunch of other papers sprawled out across the big table. There were also pictures of dozens of people presumably enemies and other rival mafia members. While I look at the pictures a few in particular catch my eye. That’s me, that’s me leaving the station with Chris a week before I was abducted. They followed me everywhere and I had no idea. How did I not notice? Whoever took those pictures was so close, kind of creepy.

I notice all seven of the members in San’s inner circle were here. I’d be lying if I say I'm not scared, because any screw up and I could seriously end up dead in a trash bin. They're all very intimidating just like San himself. San clears his throat “So, i’m sure you guys know the Detective and I've brought her here today because from now on she’s going to be working for me.” Wooyoung and Yeosang give San a surprised face mixed with disappointment. Wooyoung shifts his gaze towards me and glares at me coldly “Why? We literally kidnapped her a month ago. I don’t even think we should even be trusting a cop especially after what happened.” San raises his hand to quiet down Wooyoung and says “You’re right, but Seonghwa, Jongho, Hongjoong and myself have talked to her and she’s reliable. Not to mention she now has a personal vendetta against Lee, so she’s definitely on our side now.” Mingi then says “Okay, what can she do? How does she serve us any purpose besides a pretty face? I know she’s a cop and all but if I'm being honest cops haven’t been very impressive these days and neither was she when we kidnapped her.” Before San could talk I say “Well, besides a pretty face I was trained in both long and short range shooting, and I have a few access codes and I know my way around the police databases. Oh, and about you being able to abduct me In my defense my little detective brain short circuited.” San looks over at Mingi who looked slightly annoyed at the sarcasm tinged answer “There you go questions answered, anyone else?” Everyone stays silent then San smiles “Alright good, so please treat her well she’s one of us now."

Wooyoung whispers something into Yeosang's ear while San continues "Okay, now we’re going to be discussing how we’re going to fake the Detective’s death.” Hongjoong says “You’re really going the extra mile with that aren’t you? Can't she just pass off as a missing person?” San shakes his head “No, because if she does that the police will still consider her alive thus bringing a lot more attention to her trying to find her and since she works for us now we can’t have that. We need to get a little more creative.” After a few hours of careful and meticulous planning a way to fake my death we come up with a solution but it wasn’t one I was too comfortable with and it was taking someone that closely resembles me, remove any identifying features, burn them until they’re unrecognizable, switch my dental records with the deceased and plant my police badge on the body. Sounds easy but unfortunately I know it's not going to be, for anyone, not for the person in place of me, the Aurora syndicate's goons, and myself included. Being on the dark side of justice is not easy, but I owe San for letting me live and I need to teach Captain Lee a lesson for betraying his oath to protect and serve his department. Not to mention he let one of his own to "die" in order to save himself the embarrassment of having to resign as a traitor. Most call it revenge but I call it making it even.

After the meeting, San goes over to his office to get things in order for the plan leaving me to hang out with Seonghwa at the lounge downstairs. “So, you’re staying here?” Seonghwa asks while he takes a sip of some tea that he prepared. I shrug and cross my arms in front of my chest “Yeah San kind of changed his mind after he told me that Captain Lee was going to refuse to come clean. I felt so hurt that I basically told him that Captain Lee and the department were dead to me.” He slowly stirs his tea then he says “Wow so you’re willing to drop your department just like that? Just so you know you won’t ever have to worry about us betraying you, we’re like a family here. Although it’s still a bit off putting having you not be in total isolation and not being in handcuffs.” I rest my head on the lounge's couch arm rest while drawing shapes on it out of habit " Well yeah, I kind of have to at this point. My decision tells you a lot about me. I drop traitors like that with no remorse.”

Seonghwa and I chuckle until I hear footsteps and notice a tall dark haired male extend his hand in my direction “Hello Detective y/ln, sorry for interrupting. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Yunho by the way, we didn’t meet properly prior to the meeting earlier but it’s very nice meeting you.” I shake his hand examining the very tall man before me from the meeting earlier but it’s very nice meeting you.” I shake his hand examining the very tall man before me. He definitely didn’t look like the type of person to be involved in things like this so to say that I’m shocked is an understatement. “Thank you, It’s very nice meeting you too.” He pulls up a chair and sits in front us then says “Detective, did you know that you’re all over the news? They still think Lee is trying to find you, I’m sure they haven’t told the press the whole story yet.” Feeling my hands get cold I tuck my hands under my thighs “Yeah, I don't think they ever will but just wait until they find “my dead body” I’m sure Captain Lee is going to make up some stupid excuse as to why I ended up dead” Seonghwa furrows his eyebrows “So are you going to go completely incognito and leave your past life behind?”

I let out a long sigh and look at the fake Monet painting behind Seonghwa, and with an expressionless face I respond “Yeah, I have to. I’d rather have my family think I died not being a horrible person than know I gave in to the temptation of taking matters into my own hands. without the assistance of the law.” Yunho looks at me with a saddened and serious expression clouding over his features “You’re a former cop we all understand, I’m sure your family never expected this from you. Sometimes to protect what we love the most we have to hide the truth.” I lower my gaze and i nod “Yeah, which is also why I think it’s best you guys call me just y/n since I'm no longer a detective.” They both nod then sipping on his tea carefully Seonghwa says “If that makes you comfortable then go ahead. Don’t worry.” He reaches over to me with his free hand and pats my head continuing his thought "It's also really nice just having you with us." Yunho gives me a warm smile and adds onto Seonghwa's sentiment "Thank you for choosing not to go against us, we really do need your kind of help especially with San's goal of getting rid of Lee. It'll be a nightmare that'll soon end." I press my lips into a small smile "Any person who's got the same enemy in common as I is considered an ally in my book despite the initial differences." Seonghwa nods "I'm glad to know we can count on you, despite how some people might feel about it." Is he referring about the rest of the guys? More specifically Wooyoung? "It's fine, I understand where that fear of them trusting a cop comes from. I'll do my best to show them they can trust me." I'll probably look like a fool trying though, they seem like a very tough crowd to please.

Seonghwa, and Yunho decide to take me downstairs to the basement where Hongjoong was, the same place I was taken to talk to Captain Lee. As expected, as soon as he sees Yunho, Seonghwa and I he groans “What are you guys doing here?” Both Yunho and Seonghwa look at each other then Seonghwa replies with “We figured we’d bring Y/N to come help you with the police databases, Me and Yunho were talking to Y/N how it’s nice to have someone so versatile with us.” Hongjoong stares at me for a few seconds then says “Okay fine, but she can’t touch a computer yet until she proves herself.” I smile and raise my right hand and say “I will after my funeral ceremony I promise.” His eyebrow slightly raises and he says “Don’t promise anything, actions speak louder than words.” Seonghwa gently squeezes Hongjoong’s shoulder and says in a low voice “Come on, San doesn’t just trust anyone remember that.” Hongjoong rolls his eyes and groans “Right.” Seonghwa looks over at me and says in a very stern tone “Please, don��t betray our trust.” He then gives me a half hearted smile and leaves with Yunho leaving me with this grouchy computer genius.

Hongjoong pulls a chair over next to him and pats it “Sit, I need you to guide me with some passcodes, just use my laptop at least there I can keep track of everything you do.” He pulls his laptop out of his backpack and passes me a laptop heavily covered in stickers. A small smile grows onto my features “You like Spongebob too huh?” Concentrated into his work and not removing his focused gaze from the screen he says “Huh? Yeah why?" I shrug opening the laptop “Just asking, I like that show too.” Too weary to continue the conversation he says “Cool.” I slightly roll my eyes. Okay Rude. I begin to work on accessing all the police databases and private records. A few minutes later I successfully finish and I tap Hongjoong’s shoulder “I’m done.” He looks at the screen then at me and clicks his tongue “Oh, wow. Thank you Detective.” I smile “No problem, and just call me y/n. I’m technically not a detective anymore.” He smiles and nods “Okay, I’ll keep that noted, do you mind if I see this?” I nod and he takes the laptop from in front of me. For several minutes I see him reading and looking very concentrated reading whatever he searched up. I suddenly hear the door opening and when I look up I realize It’s Mingi and Wooyoung, neither looked too pleased to see me.

I sigh knowing there was a slight tension not just with Wooyoung and Mingi. I tried to not think about that feeling of self awareness that I was in a building full of people who can just as easily take my life just as easily as they spared it. Don’t get me wrong I like San, but no doubt he still scares me when I remember all the crimes he’s committed. The detective in me doesn’t seem to want to die. “We got the girl Hongjoong, is San done?” My stomach drops as soon as I heard Wooyoung say it in such a nonchalant way. I sit there still unable to process the fact that this will be the first crime I’ll be committing not directly but It doesn’t feel right especially knowing an innocent woman has to suffer, but despite that my I still feel very strongly at getting Captain Lee back, not just that but this is the life I willingly accepted when I accepted to be San’s girlfriend and vowed to get back at that old coward even if it's only temporary.

Still preoccupied, Hongjoong shakes his head and says “No, still up there but I’ll tell him when he’s done. You go ahead and handle that woman, keep her quiet.” Wooyoung and Mingi leave their backpacks on the floor then both walk back upstairs while they talk amongst eachother. I really don’t want to know what’s going to happen to that girl before they probably kill her. No doubt she’ll be receiving the same treatment from Wooyoung as I did when I first got here. It luckily ended early but I don't think I would have survived if I had the full experience. Hongjoong nudges my arm and I’m immediately brought back to reality. I turn to him completely playing off that I wasn’t just sitting there in shock “Hey, these files of all the police reports that Lee did back when he started out are behind an access code do you know it? I sit there for a minute trying to remember it then quickly type the access code in the little white box. Once access was granted Hongjoong takes his laptop back and looks like he’s reading through some stuff. The rest of the time I was there I was sorting out all the files we seized from the server with Hongjoong while my brain in the background kept replaying Wooyoung's "little mistake" as he likes to call it. Seeing Wooyoung so nonchalant about this whole situation knowing he's going to kill that poor girl just unsettles me. Reliving every. Single. Blow. Over. And. Over.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

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#ateez series #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #choi san x reader #park seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez angst #mafia au #choi jongho #jeong yunho x reader #jung wooyoung #song mingi #kang yeosang #kim hongjoong x reader #kpop imagines #Fic: The Syndicate #non idol au

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brain-deadx0 · 3 years

Text

The Babysitter

Part 4 of New Big Brother

Previous - Next

Summary: Patton gets called into work unexpectedly and accidentally calls the babysitter

Warnings: uh... temporarily forgetting a child I guess but other than that and food mentions there's nothing I think. Let me know

Patton woke up earlier than he would've liked, to a ringing phone he would rather ignore.

"Hello…?" He asked with a yawn.

He should've ignored the call.

He sent a quick text to the sitter before reluctantly rolling out of bed to get ready for work. On a day no one was supposed to even call.

He already missed his bed.

Remy woke up to the house feeling more awake than usual.

...Wait did he sleep in?

He shot up to look at the alarm clock to see how late he slept. And was only mildly disappointed to find out he was actually awake earlier.

Welp.

He laid in bed a few more minutes, but after the mild panic of sleeping in, soon realized he was not getting any more sleep today. He sighed before giving up and getting out of bed. He decided to get dressed, but opted out of everything else for now. It was early anyway.

When he went downstairs, dad guy was buzzing around the kitchen with a tired looking Virgil sitting at the table.

"What's going on?" Remy asked.

Dad guy jumped, "Oh my gosh!" He said before turning to look at Remy, placing a hand on his chest, "Remy." He breathed.

"Sorry…"

"No, no, you're fine!" He rushed, "Sorry, I got woken up early and kinda… forgot you were here." He explained, "Oh boy." He breathed, "I didn't even hear you coming." He laughed.

"Sorry?"

"Don't worry about it." Dad guy assured him, "I just startle easy. Especially when I'm still waking up."

"Uh… ok?"

Before he could ask why they were up so early the doorbell rang. Virgil perked up immediately, "Emi's here!" He said before running for the door.

"What?" Remy asked, causing dad guy to facepalm, "Who's Emi?"

Dad guy sighed and shook his head, "The babysitter… I got called into work this morning. I meant to talk to you today about the work thing." He told him, "I didn't want you to feel like you had to watch Virgil, but I also didn't mean to spring a sitter on you. I'm so sorry."

"Uh… it's okay?" Remy told him, "I get it."

"I'm still sorry." Dad guy told him.

… adults apologizing was weird.

"Come meet him!" He heard Virgil say.

'Oh thank god, a subject change.'

Remy knew dad guy would come back to the babysitter thing soon. But he could put up with some lady in the house for a day. Virgil seemed to like her though so she would probably be ok. If nothing else he could hide in the bedroom all day.

"Remy, this is Emile!"

Remy was suddenly very aware he hadn't actually done any morning hygiene yet.

"Hiya!" The pink haired teen chirped, "Emile Piccani," he stuck out his hand, "nice to meet ya."

"Uh… Remy LoonSpeaker." He said as he shook the hand.

"Thanks for coming, Emile." Dad guy told him, "Sorry it's so out of the blue. I meant to get back to you later today."

"Oh it's no problem, Mr. Sanders. I love watching Virgil." Emile told him.

"We're gonna watch the whole Avatar series from the beginning!" Virgil told them.

"Yep!"

"You're gonna watch too, right Remy?" Virgil asked.

Remy shrugged, "Sure."

...

After a rushed breakfast, dad guy said his goodbyes, accompanied by another round of apologizes, before leaving to go to work.

While Emile went to get Avatar set up, Remy fled back upstairs to brush his teeth and hair.

"Do you like Avatar?" Emile asked when he came back down.

Remy shrugged, "I've seen memes and the movie." Emile let out a horrified gasp. "...What?"

"We do not talk about the last Airbender." He told him, "And I am so sorry you saw it."

"What's 'the last Airbender'?" Virgil asked from his usual spot on the couch, "Is it an Avatar movie?"

"Kinda," Emile admitted, "but it's pretty bad."

"I mean, it was based off a kids show?"

"Nope. We are fixing this now. Sit down and watch the true Avatar." Emile told him, "... If you want to of course." He added.

"It's really good!" Virgil told him.

"Alright, alright," Remy smiled, "I'll watch it." He told them as he joined Virgil on the couch.

…

"Alright," Emile said after watching the sixth episode in a row, "How about we take a break and get some lunch? Then we can go to the park for a while."

"Aw… one more episode?" Virgil asked.

"Sorry kiddo," Emile told him, "but the next one is a two parter. Besides, we can't spend all day watching TV."

"Can we eat lunch at the park then?" The kid asked.

"I suppose we could. What do you think, Remy?"

"Fine with me."

"Alright," Emile smiled, "Virge how about you go get dressed while I make some sandwiches?"

"Ok!" Virgil said before jumping off the couch and bolting for the stairs.

"I'll help with the food." Remy told him.

"Thanks." Emile smiled, "So what did you think of the show so far?" He asked as they made their way to the kitchen.

"I see why you hate the movie so much." Remy told him.

"Right?!" Emile laughed.

"Even ignoring the whitewashing of literally everyone, and the kids who need more acting lessons, which is on the casting director and other adults obvs, the story itself is terrible. Like, honestly, I thought it was ok before, but now that I know what the source material is like."

"And the bending!" Emile added as the two started grabbing ingredients, "So many movements for nothing!"

As they made sandwiches, Remy couldn't believe he was having an actual conversation about a kids show and it's horrendous adaptation. Though to be fair the show was more adult than he thought it would be.

"So who's your favorite character so far?" Emile asked.

"I dunno," Remy told him, "I liked Iroh at first, but Sokka's growing on me now that he seems to be less misogynistic. He's got potential."

"I love Sokka!" Emile grinned, "He's honestly underrated since he doesn't get any huge character arc, but he actually has a lot of little ones. They just aren't focused on as heavily as others."

They continued chatting about the show before packing the food away into Emile's bag. As he was packing the food, Remy noticed a colorful bracelet on his wrist.

"Cool bracelet."

Emile looked at his wrist before smiling at him, "Thanks, I got it at pride last year. You?"

Remy shrugged, "Not sure. Still figuring it out."

"Does Mr. Sanders know?"

Remy laughed, "Hell no."

"Well-"

"Ready!" Virgil yelled as he ran into the kitchen.

Emile smiled, "Got everything?"

"Yep!"

"Alright let's just do one more check to be sure and then we can go."

After double checking everything and locking the door, the three started walking to the nearby park. Virgil held Remy's hand the entire way and pointed out different houses and who lived there.

"-and that's Mrs. Ownings house. She's really nice. Sometimes she makes cookies for everyone. And that's Mrs. Caren's house. She doesn’t like us."

"Why not?" Remy asked.

"Dad says she just has different opinions on things. I think it's because she really likes her dog and dad pet it without asking once."

"Maybe."

"Ooh there's the park! Emile, can we race there? Please?"

"I don't see why not." Emile smiled, "Are you going to race, Remy?"

"Please, Remy?"

"Sure. If you're ready to lose." He smirked.

"Ok, 1-2-3 go!" Virgil said before letting go of his hand and taking off.

"Hey!" Remy laughed before he and Emile started after him.

Catching up to the six-year-old was a simple enough task. Remy ran a step or so ahead of him before saying, "I'm gonna win!"

Virgil responded by closing his eyes and speeding up slightly. Remy let out an offended gasp as he was passed.

"I win!" Virgil cheered as he ran through the park gate.

Remy pretended to be out of breath as he caught up, "No fair, you got a head start."

"Snooze you lose!" Virgil told him.

"Wowzers you guys are fast." Emile laughed as he caught up to them.

"Hey, you walked."

"I think I was pretty outmatched." He smiled, "Let's go find a place to sit and eat."

The three of them went to the open field next to the equipment and Emile pulled out an old blanket for them to sit on.

"After lunch can we show Remy the creek too?" Virgil asked through his mouthful of sandwich.

"Remember not to talk with your mouth full," Emile chided, "But if Remy's fine with it I don't see why not."

"Creek sounds cool." Remy told them.

Virgil smiled before taking another bite.

The small group ate quickly before packing away what they needed and throwing away their garbage.

"Can we go to the creek now?" Virgil asked excitedly.

"Yep, yep, yep!" Emile told him brightly.

"Yes! Come on, Remy!" Virgil said as he grabbed Remy's hand and began pulling him towards the treeline.

Virgil was practically vibrating as he led Remy down the small trail while telling him about how cool the creek was, "Sometimes when it's really hot, Dad will let us come to swim too!"

"It's that deep?"

"Yeah! It comes up to here!" Virgil said as he held his hand up to his chest.

Remy shared an amused glance with Emile, "Well it's a good thing we're not swimming today."

They spent the next hour or so at the creek. Emile showed them how to skip rocks, Remy managed to catch a guppy in the shallows, and Virgil built a small dam. But eventually they had to make their way back up the trail and to the house before dad guy got home from work.

"Hey Remy," Virgil said as they made their way out of the park.

"Yeah?"

"You should give me a piggy back ride."

Remy snorted, "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Cause my legs are tired~" He whined dramatically.

"Mine are tired too. So how about you carry me?"

"No!" He giggled.

"How come? Why should I carry you if you won't carry me?"

"Because you're my big brother not my little one! And big brothers carry little brothers."

Remy pretended to contemplate that for a second, then shrugged, "Ok," he said before quickly sweeping the kid up and hefting him over one shoulder.

Virgil screamed in delight, "No!" He laughed, "It's supposed to be piggy back!"

"I am carrying you like a potato sack."

"Piggy back! Not potato sack!"

"Really?" Remy asked airily.

"Yes!" He giggled.

"Huh," Remy replied as he shrugged the kid back into position on his shoulder, "Didn't know that. Oh well, too late now, Vincenzo."

"It's Virgil!" The kid yelled through his laughter, "Emi help!" He said as he began struggling.

"Don't worry, I'll save you!" Emile told him as he moved to grab the squirming six-year-old.

Remy quickly moved out of reach before Emile could reach, "Nope, get your own hostage." He told him before walking faster.

"No! I don't wanna be a hostage!" Virgil squealed, "Help!"

The group made it most of the way back to the house before Emile managed to grab ahold of Virgil and pull him into a bridal carry.

"Hey!" Remy yelled in mock anger.

"Run, Emile!" Virgil urged.

"You'll never take us alive!" Emile yelled back as he slowly ran away.

Remy chased after in what was more of a jog than an actual run until the trio made it to the front porch.

"Ok," Emile panted, "I'm done." He said before putting Virgil down, "Whew, Virge you're getting big."

"Yep!" The kid readily agreed.

"How about we put in a movie? Your dad will be home in a little over an hour or so."

"Can we watch Coraline?" Virgil asked hopefully.

Emile hid a wince, "Maybe not today,"

"Aw…"

"What about the Nightmare Before Christmas?"

"Yes!"

"Man, I wish I had his energy." Remy noted as he watched Virgil run inside. Presumably to get the movie ready.

"I know right?" Emile said as they moved inside, "But don't worry he'll crash during the movie."

And sure enough, they were barely quarter of the way through the movie before Virgil was napping from his place next to Remy.

The two teens continued to chat quietly about the movie until the end credits began to roll.

"So what school do you go to?" Emile asked as he got up to put the movie away.

"Uh… I'm pretty sure I transferred this year. I'm going to something side."

"Southwest Side?"

"Probably. Why, s'that your school?"

"Yep, it's pretty close to here too. We should be getting our class schedules soon. We usually get them about a week before school starts."

"Cool."

"What electives you sign up for? I know we usually only get one or two of them, but which are you hoping for?"

"Uh, I think I signed up for art, woodshop and… some other things. Culinary maybe? You?"

"Art since I love cartoons, culinary because we get to make cookies, video tech because we get to make our own little movies and stuff, and psychology because I wanna be a therapist one day."

"That's cool. Maybe we'll end up having some classes together."

"Yeah! Oh you should definitely meet my friends when school starts I think you'd like them."

"Maybe,"

"Oh hey," Emile asked, "about earlier," he gestured to his pride bracelet, "I won't say anything obviously, but just so you know if you ever decide to tell Patton I know he'd be fine with it."

Remy hummed noncommittally.

"Just some food for thought." Emile told him, "So why'd you pick woodshop?"

The two quickly fell back into comfortable conversation about their chosen electives. When dad guy's car pulled into the driveway Remy couldn't help but think about what Emile told him.

Whatever.

#new big brother #brain dead writes #ts Virgil #ts remy #ts patton #ts emile #sanders sides #sanders sides fan fic

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sapphosclown · 3 years

Text

Kiss Him You Fool - Willex Oneshot

aka willie and flynn are best friends and she’s done with this mutual pining bullshit. (boys are alive bc i didn’t feel like thinking about ghost logistics today lmao)

so i didn’t get to participate in willex week nearly as much as i wanted to so this is my song fic/au fic (i guess? since the guys are alive? idk) for free day since i didn’t get the idea till last night at 1am. anyways i also didn’t sign up for the gift exchange but i still wanna dedicate this fic to @fairygclds for hosting this week bc she did an amazing job and i love her v much, ty mari <3

title is from Kiss Her You Fool by Kids That Fly, cute song highly recommend

rbs and comments appreciated :)

———

That was real right? He didn’t make that up in his head? That happened. Right?

Willie was abruptly knocked out of their thoughts as his board hit a crack in the sidewalk, sending him onto the pavement, scraping his knee. Although, the stinging did help them snap out of the daze he was in, making him realize that yes, this is real life, and yes, he and Alex Mercer almost kissed.

***

“Stop, you’re not allowed to be that good at everything.” Willie teased as Alex just barely completed a loop around him.

“I feel like we are experiencing different timelines here or something.” Alex let out a shaky laugh as he flailed his arms in an attempt to regain the balance he’d just lost. Luckily, Willie held out their arm for him to grab just in time.

“Come on, you’re doing great! Just need to have a little more faith in yourself.” Willie smiled gently, offering extra support with his free hand.

Alex scoffed. “I think I’m a roller skating kind of guy.”

“Well, I disagree but if that’s how you feel—”

Alex rolled his eyes, making Willies stomach flutter. He helped him off the skateboard and they sat down on the couch in the studio. Willie ignored the fact that despite having the entire couch to themselves, they sat right up against each other, and he especially ignored the way their knees touching made his heart beat faster than normal.

“Actually, I think solid ground is where it’s at.” Alex said, only half-joking.

“I guess, but the wheels add some spice that solid ground could never live up to.”

“Exactly. You know exactly what you’re getting with solid ground. Me and wheels have a complicated relationship.”

“Oh really? You guys have a falling out?” Willie teased.

“Ha, yeah. There was some falling.” Alex gave a sarcastic laugh.

“But that’s the fun part! You can get some pretty rad scars from skating.” Willie pointed out.

“‘Rad?’ What, are you from the 80’s?”

“Listen—” Willie shushed him, shoving his shoulder into him playfully.

They laughed for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence. Willie was really tempted to lay his head onto Alex’s shoulder, or hold his hand.

His hand was right there. It would be so easy... But instead he grabbed their own hand and started messing with their fingers.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He asked lamely.

“We’re rehearsing for our gig tomorrow night. Luke and Julie are going over the set list one last time right now but we should be starting pretty soon.” Alex replied, checking the time on his phone before looking back at Willie. “Actually, if you wanna hangout while we rehearse, I don’t think they’d mind.”

“Oh, yeah! That sounds great!” Willie smiled.

“Cool.” Alex nodded, and maybe he was seeing things, but Willie could’ve sworn his cheeks were turning pink. That made him giggle.

“So, what’s the set list then?” They asked curiously. He shifted his body so that he could look at Alex, only mildly upset about the loss of contact, but being able to see the faded pink in Alex’s cheeks made up for it.

“Well, usually we start with Edge of Great, but Julie and Luke wrote this new song that is perfect to open with and I just know everyone’s gonna love it—”

Willie stared at Alex as he rambled on about the show and they couldn’t help the soft smile on their lips. Alex noticed almost immediately and stopped talking, almost embarrassed.

“What?” He asked.

“No, it’s nothing.” Willie said, waving his hand for them to move past it.

“No, I feel like you’re judging me!” Alex giggled.

“No! I’m not judging you!” Willie reassured. “You’re just really cute when you talk about music.” He said softly.

Alex went bright red. “Oh.” He replied in the same tone.

The air around them went quiet again, but this time filled with a different feeling. The feeling that there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. And suddenly their faces were a lot closer than Willie had realized. His eyes flicked down to Alex’s lips subconsciously and then back to his eyes, which he found were doing the same thing. There was nothing stopping him, all he had to do was lean in just a little bit more...

“WHO’S READY TO MAKE SOME MUSIC!” Reggie called excitedly as he entered the garage, making Willie and Alex jump apart. Reggie eyed them suspiciously. “Oh, hey Willie.” He said, eyebrows pulled together like he was piecing together what just happened.

“Hey.” Willie breathed uncomfortably. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air.

“Are you gonna hangout for rehearsal?” Reggie asked.

“Actually, uh, I gotta get going.” Willie sputtered before his brain could catch up to his mouth. They stood up and grabbed their things messily.

“I thought you said—”

“I just remembered I have to do something.” Willie cut Alex off. “I’ll see you tomorrow though?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Alex said quietly, failing at hiding his disappointment and making Willies chest ache.

“Cool.” Willie said. “See ya.” He threw an awkward peace sign at Reggie (who gave him one back) and skated out of the garage as fast as he possibly could.

***

“You are a disaster.” Flynn scolded, grabbing a dinosaur band-aid out of her desk drawer.

“I know!” Willie yelled into her pillow. She plopped down onto the bed in front of him.

“Why didn’t you just kiss him! You had the opportunity and he clearly wanted to kiss you too!” She yelled.

“I don’t know!” Willie whined, throwing the pillow back down into his lap. “I wanted to but I froze! And then Reggie showed up and I couldn’t stay after that! What if he didn’t want that to happen, what if he hates me now!”

“He doesn’t hate you! He’s very clearly in love with you, I don’t know what you’re not understanding about this.” She peeled the paper off the band-aid and carefully stuck it to Willies knee.

“You don’t know that.” He huffed.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? He likes you. When have I ever been wrong?”

They hated to admit it, but there have been very few times Flynn has been wrong.

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do?”

“Go back there? Ask him on a date or kiss him or just literally do anything.”

“I can’t go back! He’s rehearsing! I don’t wanna barge in while they’re rehearsing. And I left so fast it’d be so awkward—”

“Stop making excuses!” Flynn shook their shoulders, as they pouted. “Call him and say you forgot something.”

“I didn’t forget anything.” He said plainly. Flynn shot him a look.

“Duh! I know that, but if you tell him you’re coming back to get something then you can’t chicken out.” She explained, exasperated.

“Oh! Well what should I say I forgot?”

“Your phone, that's a reasonable thing you’d need to get back.”

“Okay. Okokok.” Willie mumbled to themself pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts before Flynn snatched it from them.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling him like you said!”

“Use my phone dummy! If you call him from your phone he’ll know you didn’t leave it there!” She opened her phone and before Willie realized what was happening, the phone was ringing on speaker.

“Hello?” Alex’s voice cracked through the phone.

Flynn looked at Willie and then back to the phone when he just sat there mouth agape.

“Um, hi. It’s Willie, not Flynn, I, um, left my phone in the studio and I’m on my way back to grab it.” They stuttered, hitting his head at his awkwardness.

“Oh alright. See you soon, then.”

“Yup. See ya.” Willie threw his head in his hands, their face turning bright red. Flynn ended the call and leaned against her wall with their arms crossed.

“You really are a disaster huh.” She teased.

Willie threw his pillow at them playfully and jumped off the bed. “I hate you.” He laughed.

“Love you too.” She grinned slyly. “Now, go tell your boyfriend he’s cool and you wanna kiss him!”

Willie groaned as he grabbed his things as Flynn shooed him out of her room.

***

“He’s coming back.” Alex said quickly. His friends shared the same look as they all “ooooooo”d at him.

“Guys stop! What do I do!” He cried.

“Man calm down, it’s alright.” Reggie consoled him.

“Why’re they coming back?” Julie asked turning her keyboard off so she can lean on the keys.

“Said they forgot their phone.” Alex replied.

“Mhm, right. Sure he did.” Luke teased. If he were closer Alex would’ve shoved him but he felt like he was glued to his seat.

“What do I do?” Alex asked again.

“I mean, we can keep rehearsing till he gets here if that’ll take your mind off of it?” Julie suggested.

God bless Julie. Alex nodded.

“I don’t know, it seems like he and Willie have some unfinished business.” Reggie winked.

“No! Nothing was happening! Nothing happened, it’s nothing. He just needs his phone back.” Alex tried to ignore his friends snickering but his mind flashed back to Willie on the couch in front of him. He really thought Willie had wanted to kiss him, but if how he left says anything, Alex must’ve misread the situation. They probably hated him.

“Dude, I can practically hear your thoughts and I promise you, he likes you.” Reggie assured him.

“You can’t know that for sure.” Alex mumbled, watching his drumstick twirl through his fingers.

“Maybe not but, we’ve all noticed how they look at you.” Luke cut in.

“It’s not exactly a secret.” Julie said sweetly.

“I just... I care about them a lot and what if you’re wrong and that’s just how he acts with his friends—”

“No, dude, we’re not letting you talk yourself out of this one.” Luke laughed.

“Seriously, Alex, you should go for it!” Reggie said encouragingly, walking around his drums to clap his shoulder.

Alex thought about it, he really did. He really thought for a second that he could do it, he could just lean forward and kiss him and they’d live happily ever after. But he over thought it, as usual.

“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” He shrugged.

“You can’t just wait for someday! You gotta go after what you want!” Luke exclaimed. Julie nodded.

Alex smiled at his friends. He appreciated their support but he couldn’t help but be afraid. Deep down, he knew they were right. He knew if Reggie had been just a minute later... But he still didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. Because there’s always that what if that won’t leave him alone.

There was a gentle knock on the garage doors as Willie stepped into view, he was hugging his arms and had a soft smile on his face. They carefully waved at everyone before he made eye contact with Alex, and suddenly it felt just like they were on the couch again. Just the two of them.

You know what. Maybe it’s time for someday.

Alex stood up from his drums and walked over to Willie, trying to act nonchalant. He heard Julie clear her throat to get the other two to stop staring at them and at least pretend to do something else.

“Hey.” Alex breathed.

“Hey.” Willie replied. “Can I actually see you, out here?” He asked shyly, nodding his head out side.

Alex nodded and followed Willie out of view of his band mates.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve looked for your phone before you got here but—” before Alex could finish his sentence Willie had cupped Alex’s face and pulled him into a kiss.

Alex felt like his heart had just exploded and he wasn’t completely sure if he was real anymore, but then he felt his hand rest on Willies cheek and he could confirm that yes, this was happening.

It didn’t last longer than a few seconds before Willie pulled away again. Their eyes searched Alex’s face for any sign of his emotion but Alex had completely stopped functioning and didn’t quite know what to do until he felt Willies grip on his face loosen.

“I’m sorry—” He tried to retract his hands but Alex held them in place, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He saw Willie’s worry fade and Alex pulled him back into a kiss. This one much softer, less rushed. No longer a question, but an answer.

They pulled apart and Alex noticed Willie shrinking down a bit and smiled to himself.

“Do you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss me?” He asked cheekily.

Willie raised his eyebrows. “That’s the question you have right now?”

Alex nodded, his smile unmoving.

“I’m glad you have your priorities set.” Willie laughed.

“Definitely.” Alex whispered. “Priority number one, make you stand on your tiptoes to kiss me again.”

“You’re mean.” Willie pouted. Alex laughed and Willie gave him a playful shove before Alex pulled him back onto his tiptoes.

“It’s about time.” Reggie whispered as he Luke and Julie peeked around the door and watched their friend.

“Luke,” He stood up straight and held out his hand.

Luke groaned and fished for his wallet in his pockets, handing him a $20 bill.

“Thank you.” Reggie said smugly, pocketing the cash.

Julie laughed and shook her head at her friends and they all made their way back to their respective instruments. Julie pulled out her phone.

Flynn: did he do it??

Julie: yup. reggie’s $20 richer

Flynn: about time!! took those fools long enough, geez

Julie: really tho

Alex walked back into the studio a blushing smiley mess and sat at his drums again, not saying a word despite his friends staring at him expectantly.

He scanned their faces from his seat behind his drums.

“From the top?”

———

a/n: let it be known that reggie used that $20 to buy a fish and he named it Gil and he is the best fish dad ever

#idk if the description is accurate like it is but i also don’t know what’s going on i wrote this in one day #hope you enjoyed anyways lol #i love them #and this song is them idc #willex week #willex #willie jatp #willie wilbur williamson #alex mercer #julie and the phantoms #jatp #willex oneshot #willex fic #netflixwewantjatp2 #renew julie and the phantoms

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bevioletskies · 3 years

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spare me a little (of your love)

summary: Klavier always liked to express his love with flowers, so sending a beautiful bouquet to his boyfriend every now and then seemed like the obvious thing to do. However, there’s just one little problem - Apollo is very, very allergic to pollen.

word count: 5.3k | read on ao3

a/n: For @klapollo-week, day two of seven (prompt: "flowers"). All seven of my fics take place in the same continuity! However, each can be read as a stand-alone, with the exception of day seven being a sequel to day five.

This fic takes place at some distant point in time after Spirit of Justice where Apollo and Trucy have learned that they’re siblings, but doesn’t reference any specific plotlines otherwise. My source for flower meanings can be found here. Fic title is from the song Spare Me a Little of Your Love by Fleetwood Mac.

“The language of...flowers?”

“Oui, oui, mon ami!” Athena chirped, nodding eagerly. “That’s just one of the many languages I speak, y’know.”

Apollo eyed her skeptically over the top of his laptop screen. “...right. Elaborate, please.”

“Well, you know how people usually give roses to express their love?” Athena said, leaning across the gap between their desks. She didn’t even blink when she accidentally knocked over Apollo’s calendar and pen holder in one fell swoop. Apollo, on the other hand, shot her an affronted glance that she deftly ignored. “Well, each flower actually has its own specific meaning. It even varies from color to color! Par exemple, white roses symbolize innocence, while yellow roses symbolize friendship.”

“That seems unnecessarily complicated,” Apollo remarked. “Don’t most flowers come with a card? Why can’t people just write their messages instead?”

They turned at the sound of a disappointed groan coming from the middle of the room. “You’re so unromantic, Polly,” Trucy complained, peeking at them from over the back of the couch. “I almost feel bad for Mr. Gavin!”

“Hey,” Apollo protested. “I can be - I-I’m romantic!”

“If you say so,” Athena giggled, poking him in the shoulder. Huffing, Apollo prodded her back. Athena reached for a rubber band, fully intending to escalate things. She lowered her projectile dejectedly when Apollo raised his hands in surrender; he had no interest in losing an eye today.

“Sunflowers and tulips are supposed to symbolize happiness, right?” Phoenix asked. “Those are pretty much the only flowers I really know, so.”

There was a long, uncomfortably drawn-out silence. “...Daddy, your ex-girlfriend’s name was Dahlia. Her real name was - is - Iris.”

“Oh...right,” Phoenix chuckled, only mildly embarrassed. “Speaking of, do you know what dahlias and irises mean, Athena?”

Athena’s eyes were practically sparkling now. “Oui! Dahlias symbolize elegance and dignity.” Phoenix made a face. “...but, they also symbolize dishonesty and betrayal.”

“That’s more like it,” Phoenix muttered under his breath. “And irises?”

“Faith, wisdom, that kinda thing,” Athena shrugged. She then paused. “Y’know, if you want some ideas on the kinds of flowers Mr. Edgeworth would like, I can make some - ”

“Nope, nope, I-I’m good,” Phoenix interrupted swiftly, his face reddening. He had a vase of daffodils sitting on his desk, which Edgeworth had sent to the office a few days ago. None of them believed Phoenix when he claimed they were purely intended for decoration. “So why the sudden interest in flowers, Apollo? Is this, er...is this about Gavin?”

“If you’re not talking about your prosecutor, sir, I’m not talking about mine,” Apollo said firmly, turning back to his laptop.

“Sure, except I think your prosecutor’s fair game when he picks you up from work most days,” Phoenix teased. His tone was eerily similar to Trucy’s. If Phoenix wasn’t both his boss and his sort-of stepfather, Apollo would’ve picked up a rubber band himself.

A few hours later, Apollo was locking up the office for the evening when he heard the roar of a familiar-sounding motorcycle coming up the street. He turned, biting back a smile as Klavier pulled up beside the sidewalk and turned off his engine. “Your bike really is as obnoxious as you are.”

Klavier removed his helmet, pouting. “Achtung, is that any way to greet your boyfriend?”

“It is for me,” Apollo replied, kissing him briefly. “Hi.”

“Hallo,” Klavier murmured against Apollo’s lips, grinning as he pulled away. “Dinner?”

“Yes, please,” Apollo said, reaching for Klavier’s spare helmet. “I’m feeling...pizza and all the cheesy garlic breadsticks. Or maybe we can just get cheesy garlic breadsticks.”

“As nice as that sounds, you need more vegetables than the little bits you get in your cup noodles, baby,” Klavier said, patting Apollo’s hip affectionately. “Pizza, breadsticks, and a side salad, ja?”

“Fine, fine,” Apollo grumbled, settling in behind Klavier. “Turn me into a rabbit, why don’t you? Buy me a bag of carrot sticks the next time we go to the grocery store. Stuff my mattress with straw and newspaper - ”

“And people think I’m the dramatic one,” Klavier lamented, shaking his head in amusement.

It wasn’t long before the two of them were sitting on the floor of Klavier’s living room, pleasantly stuffed with pizza and breadsticks and a mediocre amount of Greek salad (“I’m not a fan of olives, you know.” “Not surprising, since the color doesn’t work with your complexion.” “Klavier, I swear to - ”). A random made-for-TV movie was playing in the background on mute, though neither of them were particularly interested in watching it.

“How was work?” Apollo asked, taking a much-needed gulp of cold water. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to get the taste of garlic out of his mouth.

“Boring, unfortunately,” Klavier said with a grimace. “Herr Edgeworth didn’t have anything but paperwork to offer me. No trials, no investigations, nichts. You?”

“Same,” Apollo replied. “Mr. Wright’s mostly working with Athena this month, so they’re taking the big clients while I get stuck with the smaller cases. Not that I’m complaining, I mean - it’s a nice change from Khura’in. I don’t want every trial to feel like I’m going under, you know?”

“Nein, that would be terrible,” Klavier agreed. “Exciting, sure, but the stress wouldn’t be worth it. I already found a gray hair the other day, ach.”

Apollo snorted. “Just one? You should see mine - I’m gonna be completely gray by thirty-five at this rate.” He shuffled closer so he could snuggle up against Klavier’s side, letting his head drop to Klavier’s shoulder. “So...turns out, Athena knows all about the flower language thing. Figured she might.”

“Flower...language...thing?” Klavier echoed, confused. He then brightened. “Ah! From our video call with my mama the other day, ja? I didn’t know you were actually interested.”

“I wasn’t, not at first,” Apollo admitted, squeezing Klavier’s arm. “But...I want your parents to like me, and since she said she was taking an interest, I thought, y’know, why not look into it? And it sounds kinda...contrived, not gonna lie. But I guess it’s kinda sweet, too. Like a secret language between just two people.”

Klavier’s face softened. “Ja, exactly. My parents used to write love letters to each other when they were in school, so I think this is Mama’s way of starting a new tradition - buying Papa flowers so he can plant them in his garden. You should see our family estate in the summer, it’s absolutely stunning.”

“Sounds like it,” Apollo said, smiling. “Your parents’ lives sound so...peaceful. Baking, gardening, travelling...I know it’s a little early to start thinking about retirement, but still, they’re living the dream.”

“They’re not retired yet,” Klavier chuckled. “And stop making me feel like I’m dating an old man, bitte. You complaining about your back makes me feel like I have to start complaining about my back.”

Apollo hummed, tracing random patterns along Klavier’s forearm with his finger. He was pleasantly sleepy from a number of things - his long, if uneventful day of work, the amount of cheese and carbs he’d just consumed, and the warmth of Klavier’s skin against his. “Sorry we can’t all afford chiropractors and massage therapists, sheesh,” he teased, unable to hold back a yawn.

“Maybe we can get a massage together someday,” Klavier suggested, stretching luxuriously. “Ah, before I forget - since we were talking about my parents just now, they asked me the other day if it would be alright to text you and send you things, little gifts and whatnot.”

“Huh? They would do that?” Apollo exclaimed. “I only just met them, like, a week ago!”

“They’re a bit...much,” Klavier said carefully. “Even when I was in high school, every friend I brought home was a potential lover to them, you know? They wanted to know everything about them, to shower them with gifts and affection. Even when I started working, I would ask Papa if I could have some flowers from his garden - you know, an arrangement to thank Herr Edgeworth for giving me a raise, a bouquet for my manager when we got our first record deal - and it was always the same story. Achtung, it’s embarrassing, but they mean well. You don’t have to say ja if you don’t want to, I just thought I’d ask.”

“No, I - it’s okay, I’d love to get to know your parents more, I’m just surprised,” Apollo admitted. The thought of them liking him this easily made him both relieved and unnerved at the same time. “Should I, uh, get them something in return?”

“Nein, nein, let them spoil you.” Klavier cupped Apollo’s face in his hands, kissing him softly. “Just like I do.”

“Sap,” Apollo murmured, kissing him back.

_____

It was a sort of gradual thing, for the most part. Barely a day had gone by when Apollo found himself in a group text with Klavier’s parents; he quickly discovered how witty and sweet and whip-smart they both were. Klavier’s father sent gorgeous photos of his garden - and calling it a garden seemed almost too modest when it seemed to be the size of a soccer field - while Klavier’s mother sent book recommendations, even the occasional movie recommendation.

“I never thought I’d be at that point in my life where my boyfriend’s mother sends me three long paragraphs about how she ‘discovered’ the Legally Blonde musical, but here we are,” Apollo had mused to the other agency members.

“Did you tell her that Klavier reminds everyone of that song, the one that goes - ”

“No, Athena, I did not. I want her to like me, remember?”

Soon after that, gifts started to arrive. Apollo had requested they send them to the agency, given how little he trusted his apartment building’s security after they nearly let his cat escape not too long ago. Unfortunately, it was too late before he realized that sometimes, he trusted his co-workers - or more specifically, his sister - even less.

“Trucy, do you know who ate the last piece of pie? Y’know, the one I was saving for today, to celebrate the end of my trial?”

“...huh. No idea, sorry, Polly!”

“Wait - th-there’s graham crumbs on Mr. Hat, what the hell - ”

His sister’s betrayal aside, Apollo felt good about things, almost unusually good. He soon started texting Klavier’s parents just as frequently as he did his own mother, thanking them for their generosity whenever they sent the occasional box of pastries or discounted event tickets. They also exchanged anecdotes about Klavier, along with stories about their own lives. He even received celebratory emojis whenever he told them about his victories in court - over their son, no less.

“I’m starting to think they like you more than they like me,” Klavier had lamented, though he seemed pleased all the same.

Then, a month into their budding familial relationship, a problem arrived on Apollo’s desk in the form of a bouquet the size of his head.

“Ah-choo!”

Trucy and Athena, who had been standing by the latter’s desk, both startled at the sound. “Ay Dios mío!” Athena exclaimed, clutching her heart in shock. “Are you okay, Apollo? That was some sneeze. I thought we were having another earthquake!”

“Har, har,” Apollo said dryly, reaching for a tissue. “It’s just the - achoo - flowers, that’s all.”

“They’re beautiful - very classic,” Athena added, dropping into Apollo’s desk chair so she could get a closer look. “Red roses and white lilies, claro. Ooh, I see some red carnations and white chrysanthemums, too!”

“Well, I see a card,” Trucy said, plucking a small white notecard from between the leaves. “Let’s see what it says!”

“That’s for - achoo - me, thank you very much.” Apollo snatched the card out of her hands, then squinted through his watery eyes to read it. “I...oh. Klavier says his mom helped him make the arrangement, with flowers from his dad’s garden.”

“How sweet!” Trucy gushed, taking a moment to sniff them, inhaling deeply as her eyes drifted closed. “Ooh, and they smell amazing. Mr. Gavin is such a good - ”

“Ah-choo!” Apollo sniffled, wiping his nose carefully. “...dammit.”

“I didn’t know you were allergic to pollen, Apollo,” Phoenix commented; he was on the other side of the room, pouring himself a cup of tea. “You never had any problems with the flowers Edgeworth sent to m - I mean, to the office.”

“Maybe it’s a freshly-cut thing?” Athena guessed, ignoring Phoenix’s awkward laugh. “Or, y’know, some flowers are worse for allergies than others. Dahlias, for example, are the worst.” Phoenix made another face before turning back to what he was doing.

“You should tell him you’re allergic,” Trucy said, patting Apollo’s free hand in sympathy. “I’m sure he’d understand.”

“But…” Apollo hesitated. The others braced themselves, anticipating another sneeze. “...this is from Klavier and his parents, you know? I can put up with a sneeze or two if it makes them happy. He loves sending flowers, and his dad’s really into gardening, so...if I tell them, they’ll stop doing it, and they’ll be too understanding, and I - I can’t deal with that. The, uh, the niceness, I mean.”

“Poor you, having the sweetest in-laws in the world,” Athena teased, pouting exaggeratedly. Oh, the humanity, Widget added. Apollo would have glared at them both, had he not started sneezing again. “Como tú quieras, I guess.”

Hours later, when Klavier met Apollo at the agency, the sight of his face brightening when he saw the bouquet confirmed Apollo’s fears. “Ah, how wunderschön,” Klavier declared, beaming. “I was worried they wouldn’t hold up during delivery. Do you like them, liebe?”

“They’re beautiful,” Apollo said, as honest as he could be. “Thanks, Klavier. I, uh, I hope it didn’t take you too long to put together.”

“You know how picky I can be,” Klavier hummed, carefully drawing a carnation out of the vase between two practiced fingers and bringing it up to his nose to smell. “I don’t settle for anything less than perfekt.” He turned, smirking. “That’s why I’m dating you, after all.”

“Gross,” Apollo said, wrinkling his nose; the effect was ruined by his affectionate laughter. “Hey, is it okay if I press them after they’ve wilted? I was thinking I could keep ‘em in my journal as a nice little reminder.”

Klavier chuckled, reaching over to squeeze Apollo’s hand. “Of course, Forehead. They’re all yours, you don’t have to ask for my permission. And I’m sure Mama and Papa would be delighted to hear you’re planning to give Papa’s flowers a second life. We’ll have to send you more in the future, ja?”

“...ja,” Apollo said weakly, his heart sinking.

_____

The next bouquet arrived two weeks later, bigger and bolder than before. According to Athena, it consisted of pink and orange roses, pink lilies, and yellow alstroemeria. However, it seemed to be the handful of sunflowers that topped everything off that left Apollo’s nose running all day.

“I think the only sunflower I can stand to be around is my attorney’s badge,” Apollo had bemoaned.

After that came an arrangement of white daisies, red gerbera, and white limonium (or, as Trucy liked to call it - she liked practicing tongue twisters when she was bored - “linoleum”). Then green hydrangeas and Queen Anne’s lace, which admittedly wasn't so bad, followed by purple daisies and pink gerbera, which was very, very bad. Apollo did not like the fact that he was getting used to the taste of Benadryl. He did manage to get some reprieve when Klavier sent him a simple vase of pink peonies.

“They’re hypoallergenic,” Athena had informed him. “But...mein Gott, Apollo, just tell him already!”

“But if I do, i-it’s…” Apollo had gestured wildly, unable to find the right words. Athena and Trucy had exchanged glances, then shook their heads in eerily synchronized disappointment.

Pink carnations and pink alstroemeria, purple irises and white aster, yellow daisies and orange roses; Apollo was starting to think the Gavin family garden was endless. And while his journal had never looked prettier, every page decorated with carefully pressed petals, every other page detailed with a date and a description courtesy of Athena’s expertise, his nose had never looked worse, his skin pink and dry and irritated. He was getting too used to the smell of CeraVe as well.

Finally, a bouquet of red roses - thankfully, also hypoallergenic - arrived with Klavier himself. He seemed delighted to be at the agency while everyone else was present for once, chatting happily with Athena and marvelling at Trucy’s card tricks. He and Phoenix seemed awkward around each other, though Apollo supposed that was to be expected. Even now, they hesitated whenever Apollo brought the other one up.

“So what’re you doing here, Mr. Gavin?” Trucy asked after she’d successfully duped him three times in a row. Apollo had to stop her before she started charging him for it. “Is it date night?”

“Not exactly,” Klavier said, turning to Apollo. “I came here to ask you something in person, liebe.”

Apollo raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s not suspicious at all. What’s up?”

“I think it’s about time you meet my parents in person.” Klavier took both of Apollo’s hands in his, smiling hopefully. “So, if you’re ready...are you free this weekend? We could go to my family estate, spend the day - Mama would love to teach you how to make those puff pastries you like, and Papa wants to show you around the garden so you can see where all your wunderschön flowers came from.”

“I...oh.” Apollo’s face fell for a split second before he quickly regained his composure. “Sorry, Klav, that sounds incredible, but I-I was gonna stay with Mom this weekend. Maybe another time?”

“Natürlich,” Klavier replied, still smiling. While his smiles usually made Apollo feel warm and fuzzy, now all he was feeling was gnawing guilt. “Let me know when you have a free weekend, ja?”

“For sure,” Apollo promised, pecking him briefly on the cheek. “And thanks for the roses, even though I, uh, kinda ruined the occasion.”

“Ruined?” Klavier repeated, chuckling. “Ach, it’s no big deal, you’re busy. We have time, don’t we?”

“Of course!” Apollo exclaimed, far too loudly. Klavier didn’t seem to mind, though; he leaned down to kiss Apollo properly, humming all the while.

“Anyway, I should get going before Herr Edgeworth notices I’m not in my office,” Klavier said, reluctantly pulling away. The look on Phoenix's face suggested he knew that Edgeworth had figured it out long ago. “Auf Wiedersehen, süßer!”

The second Klavier left, Apollo let out the breath he’d been holding. He didn’t even need to look up to know the others were staring at him very judgmentally. “...I don’t wanna hear it.”

“You really shouldn’t lie to your boyfriend, Apollo,” Phoenix said gently; his voice had taken on the sort of “dad” tone that made Apollo feel even guiltier. “Er, that is, you shouldn’t lie to anyone, but you know what I mean. Are you really protecting his feelings by doing this?”

Sighing, Apollo collapsed into his desk chair, dropping his forehead to his desk with an audible thunk. “I know, I know. It was stupid from the start, but...I-I honestly wasn’t expecting him to send this many! I thought it’d be, y’know, for special occasions only, like every few months or whatever. Then I could deal with it, and he would never have to know. Not, like, just ‘cos he felt like it. Though I guess I really should’ve seen it coming, knowing him.”

“You really gotta tell him,” Trucy insisted. “Next time you see him, okay? Or else you’re never gonna say anything!”

“I will, I swear,” Apollo insisted, combing his fingers through his hair. He could feel more grays coming in by the second. “I have no interest in being the worst boyfriend ever, believe me.”

_____

It didn’t take long for Apollo to realize that while he was perfectly fine - or, at least, reasonably fine - with confrontation in the courtroom, he was very much not fine with confrontation in his personal life. The flower arrangements came less frequently now, and when they did, they seemed to be exclusively hypoallergenic. Klavier’s invitations, on the other hand, seemed more persistent.

“I don’t mean to push,” Klavier would say. “It’s just that exam week is coming up and, being professors and all, they’re going to be very busy soon. I was hoping we’d be able to spend some time with them before then.”

“Yeah, o-of course,” Apollo would reply, his stomach twisting every time, knowing full well he was about to turn him down again.

Another weekend went by, then another. There always seemed to be something, whether it was Apollo’s sudden frequent visits to Thalassa’s, Trucy’s sudden need for a magic show assistant, or that Apollo was just too tired to be good company. Eventually, Klavier seemed to simply stop asking. In fact, he seemed to stop asking him about anything at all.

“Do you wanna grab lunch?” Apollo had once asked Klavier while they were both packing up after the end of a lengthy trial.

“I don’t know.” Klavier had sounded tired, subdued; he refused to look Apollo in the eyes. “I think I’m just going to head back to the office and catch up on my emails. Take care, Herr Forehead.” He’d quickly swept out of the courtroom before Apollo could even say goodbye.

Apollo’s group text with his parents seemed to slow down, too, especially when it came to Klavier’s papa’s photos of his garden. Klavier’s mama, on the other hand, sent him short, stilted messages, now seemingly out of obligation instead of affection. Their near-radio silence, Apollo had to admit, was well-deserved. He knew he had to do something before it was too late, if it wasn’t already too late.

“I was surprised you wanted me to join you today,” Klavier said one morning as the two of them were taking a leisurely stroll around People Park, hand-in-hand. “Lately, I feel like I’ve been dating a ghost, achtung. We only ever see each other in court. Maybe at crime scenes, too, if we’re lucky.”

“And I’m surprised you agreed to come,” Apollo admitted. “I missed you, Klavier. Only...I, uh, I know that’s really my fault, not yours.”

“You do, do you?” Klavier sounded bitter. His grip on Apollo’s hand was looser than usual, like he was ready to pull away at any second, like he wanted to run. The thought made Apollo’s chest ache. “And here, I thought you were as oblivious as ever.”

“Hey,” Apollo protested, frowning. Then, he sighed. “No, you - you’re right. This is on me. Will you - I - listen, I have something for you, back at the office. Can we go get it before you head to work?”

Klavier nodded shortly. While his eyes had softened, his smile was still strained. “Ja, let’s go.”

Thankfully, the agency was empty when they got there, save for a certain something sitting patiently on Apollo’s desk. He set his bag down, then turned on all the lights, his heart pounding rapidly against his ribcage. “So these aren’t as nice as your dad’s, but, uh. This is for you...and your parents.”

“What do you - ah!” Klavier approached Apollo’s desk with wide, disbelieving eyes, his gaze fixated on the beautiful arrangement of white lilies, yellow tulips, and white orchids wrapped in white decorative tissue paper. “Apollo, these are...they’re lovely! Did you pick these out yourself?”

“Athena helped,” Apollo said, hovering nervously. “She said white lilies are for humility, yellow tulips can mean forgiveness, and white orchids symbolize strength. Fitting, since I wanted to...apologize. For being a horrible boyfriend.”

“I don’t know about ‘horrible’,” Klavier said, gently running a finger down the length of one of the orchids. “...but you have been distant. If you’re not actually interested in meeting my parents, or if you...if you want to end things, just say so, will you?” His voice cracked. “I might like a bit of drama every now and then, but not in my own life. Not in my own relationship.”

“What?! No, no, I-I don’t wanna end things at all!” Apollo exclaimed, his voice filling the room. He took a few deep, even breaths to calm himself. “Just...will you hear me out? Please?” Klavier nodded, though he refused to look at him. “I’m...I’m sorry for avoiding you and your parents. And before you ask...yes. I was doing it on purpose. It’s nothing that - none of you did anything wrong, okay? It’s me, i-it’s - it - I - ah - ”

Klavier turned on his heel, worried. “Apollo? Are you - ”

“Ah-choo!”

Klavier jumped. “Ach - Apollo?”

“I forgot there were asters in there,” Apollo grumbled, reaching for a tissue. He wasn’t sure which was redder now, his nose or his cheeks. “It’s - I - achoo - ”

“Apollo,” Klavier said slowly; if Apollo didn’t know any better, he would've thought he was trying not to laugh. “Are you, by chance...allergic to pollen?”

Apollo sniffed sharply. “...yes, dammit, yes! That’s literally what I’ve been trying to say - achoo - just now, until - achoo - my sinuses decided to - achoo - speak for me!” He was half-doubled over at this point, clenching a fistful of tissues in both hands.

“Baby, have you been rejecting my invitation to meet my parents because you’re allergic to all the flowers we’ve been sending you for the last several weeks?” Klavier sounded more incredulous than angry.

“...yes. Yes, I have, yes, I’m an idiot and an asshole and - achoo - I’m so sorry, Klavier, I - achoo - ”

“Bitte, say it, don’t spray it.” Klavier held up Apollo’s tissue box for him, keeping it - and Apollo himself - at a good distance. “Mein Gott, Apollo, I thought you wanted to break up with me! Why didn’t you say anything earlier?!”

It took another minute or so before Apollo finally stopped sneezing long enough to get a full sentence out. He sniffled again, wiping his nose completely clean. “...have you ever told, like, the tiniest lie to make someone happy, only for it to turn into a big...thing? And then you know you have to come clean, that it’s what you’re s’posed to do, but the thought of doing it makes you anxious, even if not doing it also makes you anxious, and then...it just...it, uh, it stays with you.” He swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “Not that that’s an excuse, it’s just - that’s just what happened. I’m sorry, Klavier, I really am. I really do want to meet your parents, they’re so sweet and friendly a-and funny, I’m just...I’m bad at this. Really, really bad at this.”

Klavier sighed. Apollo held his breath, anticipating the worst. Then, Klavier wrapped him in his arms, letting out another sigh of relief. “I understand, liebe, and...I forgive you. Danke for explaining yourself.” He kissed the top of Apollo’s head. “Maybe we should’ve stuck to sending you pies, ja?”

Apollo laughed wetly. “I don’t know how you’re joking right now. That’s usually my job.” He lifted his head from Klavier’s chest to look up at him with a grateful smile. “I really did love the flowers, you know. When they weren’t attacking my respiratory system, that is.”

“Still, let’s not push it any further,” Klavier said wryly. “Now - two things, if you don’t mind. First, let me give you some moisturizer for your poor, poor nose. I’m not kissing you until I’m sure your skin won’t flake off in the process.”

“Ew, thanks for the gross visual,” Apollo grimaced. “And the second thing?”

Klavier smiled. “If you're alright with it, I’d like you to tell my parents what happened...in person.”

_____

The garden was just as beautiful as Apollo imagined it to be, given the dozens and dozens of photos he’d gotten from Klavier’s papa. It was full and lush and vibrant, with towering trees that provided ample shade, a beautiful gazebo with a built-in fireplace, a gorgeous two-tiered fish pond, and of course, a plethora of flowers, as far as they could see. Everything was especially beautiful, in Apollo’s opinion, from the relative safety of the conservatory.

“We’re not throwing you to the wolves, darling,” Klavier’s mama insisted, as if she were talking about actual wild animals and not her husband’s hobby. “We’ll stay in here for high tea so you can admire the garden at a safe distance, yes?”

“Yes, th-thank you,” Apollo stammered, relieved. “High tea?”

“Today’s menu is German chocolate scones and mini-sandwiches. With the crusts cut off for my fussy baby boy, of course,” she added, pinching Klavier’s cheek with a devious grin.

“Mama,” Klavier protested, embarrassed. His papa chuckled, settling into the chair across from his son; he still had a smudge of dirt on his nose. “I’m a grown man, achtung. I have my own health insurance and everything!”

“I really am sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Gavin,” Apollo said sincerely. Despite their kindness and generosity, he was still somewhat intimidated by them, by how tall and beautiful and well-spoken they were. As much as he didn’t want to think about his former boss, Apollo could see where he and Klavier got their good looks and charm from. “I wanted to make a good impression, but I, uh, I didn’t go about it the right way. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now, but...I kept it from happening for a dumb reason, and it led to me hurting your feelings and Klavier’s feelings. I’m sorry.”

“All is forgiven,” Klavier’s papa insisted, waving a hand. “Just promise you’ll stop by every now and then, alright? Our doors are open to you, Apollo. Consider us your parents, too, if you’d like.”

Apollo smiled softly. “I would, sir.”

“It’ll be a good, allergy-free time, I promise,” he continued with a teasing wink. “We’ll bake some bread, watch some home movies...are you interested in seeing - ach, what do the kids call it - Klavier’s ‘goth phase’?”

Apollo’s mouth dropped open. “...his what.”

“Papa, nein,” Klavier whined; he really did sound like a child now. “Maybe it was a mistake to bring you here, liebling.”

“Oh, I disagree,” Apollo said, his grin widening. “I would love to see Klavier’s goth phase. Did he dye his hair?”

“Oh, did he,” Klavier’s mama said slyly with the exasperated sigh of a parent who had dealt with too much. “It’s a miracle he managed to get back to blond at all.” She then got to her feet, smoothing out the front of her apron. “Anyway, Papa and I should go check on the scones now. You two sit tight, okay?” Before Apollo could blink, she’d dropped kisses on both his and Klavier’s foreheads, then disappeared down the hallway and into the kitchen, her husband in tow. He turned to look at Klavier, who was watching him nervously.

“I love them,” Apollo admitted. “They’re so sweet, Klav, they - stop looking at me like that, will you?”

“You can’t blame me for worrying,” Klavier said, kissing him briefly. “But I’m glad to hear it. Ich liebe dich, schatz.”

“Love you too, dork,” Apollo murmured against Klavier’s lips. “...so. Did you have a lip ring, or snake bites, or - ”

“Get out of my house,” Klavier huffed, pinching Apollo’s arm with an exaggerated pout.

“Hey! This isn’t your house, it’s your parents’ house, and they said their doors were open,” Apollo teased, laughing. Rolling his eyes, Klavier pulled Apollo into his arms, the two of them snuggled up on the loveseat. In the distance, they could see birds and butterflies fluttering among the flowers, a stray squirrel or two sniffing curiously at the edge of the fish pond. It was peaceful, serene. If it wasn't for the pollen, Apollo could see himself staying outside for hours at a time. “...but seriously, I’m looking forward to the video evidence.”

“I’m sure you are,” Klavier sighed, giving Apollo one last kiss before his parents returned with a large tray of sandwiches, scones, tea, and a vase with a single red rose for decoration - hypoallergenic, of course.

_____

a/n: Welcome to my second entry for Klapollo Week 2021! Continuity-wise, this is the fourth of seven fics, but again, there is no need to read the others to follow each fic on its own. Today, I have projected my allergies and anxiety onto Apollo, because that's what fanfiction is for, right? I hope y'all like my version of the Gavins; I've written them as cold and distant a couple of times, but I usually prefer to write them as warm and witty so that Klavier has a good support system in his life.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated. Hoping you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

#KlapolloWeek2021 #klapollo #kyodoroki #klapollo fic #ace attorney #ace attorney fic #myfic #long post #sorry these previews are so massive!!#today's and day four's are probably the most lighthearted

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izukuwus · 4 years

Text

Floriography 2

first - next

A/N: so y’all probs saw my posts about this, but ‘Walks Through the Garden’ has been renamed to ‘Floriography’ moving forward! we start to see a lil bit more of the magic in this chapter. I’m still ironing out details for the magic system but I’m having fun with it <3 we also see a little bit less of the flower symbolism. unfortunately, there’s only so many flowers in the world and I don’t wanna repeat flowers a bunch. (also not every scene is like... conducive to starting and ending with flower meanings >.<) sorry if that’s a huge draw for this series! I do plan on keeping with the flower symbolism whenever I have a proper opportunity for it, though!

Summary: Izuku has a request of your parents. (prince!arranged fiancé!Izuku Midoriya x princess!Reader)

Warnings: uh none really? some mild shitty gender roles as expected of being a female in a monarchy, mildly shitty dads

Word count: 3300+

Sweet peas thank the recipient for time spent together. White violets tell the recipient, "let's take a chance". Yellow water lilies signify a growing indifference, while a wilted flower carries the opposite meaning.

Your fiancé is two people in one body. You've learned this after just one dinner—there is Izuku, the prince, and then there is Izuku, your fiancé. The man you ate dinner with—Izuku, the prince—is distant, speaks in practiced words to fit into the mold he has been expected to grow into. Your fiancé Izuku is kind, almost meek. But he looks at you, sees you.

This much, at least, you can know from a single walk in the palace gardens together.

The morning after your meeting, you prepared a bouquet to be sent to him—sweet peas, white violets, and a single wilted water lily, just alive enough that you can see that it was yellow before it wilted. You'd arranged it by hand, carefully tying an iris around it before having it sent on to Izuku. You learned that same day that the date of your wedding was already set—at the end of the year, you'd be married.

Nine months until you no longer have a fiancé.

Nine months to, hopefully, fall in love with him, so that you can actually enjoy your own wedding.

Your fiancé is someone much more agreeable than you'd hoped, but still you find yourself wishing you were actually in love.

Not that he's making that hard. Every day in the month since your meeting, you've received a single flower and a handwritten note from the prince himself, each reading little things like "ignore the meaning of this one, I just thought it was pretty, so it suited you" and a short little blurb about how his day's gone. You've ended every day with a flower from him, and in the mornings, you send one back with your own short letter and ignore the amused looks your attendants share when they think you're too focused on composing a response or picking a flower to notice.

This morning is different, however. This morning, you magic off your response just after you've been dressed and prepared for the day and receive one immediately.

Sorry for the short notice, but do you think you could request an audience with your parents in my stead? I wish to see you again. My father has requested that you join me on my next trip through the countryside, so that you may learn your new kingdom before our marriage. If it's alright with you, I, too, would like for you to accompany me. Please let me know at your earliest convenience—I have the whole day. :) -Izuku

You smile, leaving your room with the note in hand. At breakfast, you set down your spoon and glance at your parents. "Mother? Father? Izuku has requested an audience with you, whenever it's convenient."

Your parents share knowing glances before your father turns back to you with a smile. "So you've been communicating with the young Prince."

"P-perhaps I have."

"That's good to hear. We'd love for him to visit properly, moreso than merely to have his audience and leave."

Your mother nods. "Invite him over for dinner!"

You blink slowly. "Oh, well, if that's the case, then I'll let him know once I've finished eating."

And you do—before you can be properly sat down for your morning tutoring session, you grab a piece of paper and write him back.

My parents said they'd be more pleased if you came over and spoke with them over dinner tonight. Is that okay?

Smiling to yourself, you doodle a little carnation at the bottom of the note.

Note: it's not striped.

You receive your response in the form of a beautiful drawing of a better carnation. In the bottom corner, it reads:

This one's not striped, either. I'll see you around sunset. (It's not yellow, either, right? This one's red.) :)

Despite the fact that he's completely blown your little carnation doodle out of the water, you can't help but smile fondly, feeling the tiniest amount of heat rush to your cheeks.

Carnations, when solid in color, indicate acceptance or "yes" to an answered question. Yellow ones invoke disappointment or rejection, while striped carnations are a clear statement of refusal. Red carnations are used to tell the recipient: "my heart aches for you".

You shift anxiously. Sunset is soon and you're ready for dinner. You'd be lying if you said you weren't really interested in this proposal of his—to get out of the palace for a while, spend some time talking with your fiancé properly, maybe even away from prying eyes so you can talk to him when he's not posturing and trying to act all princely? Of course you're interested. You'd be a fool not to be!

Eventually, you cast aside nervously pacing around your chambers to get some fresh air in the garden. (You're explicitly not waiting for Izuku's arrival, and no one can prove otherwise.) Naturally, you're accompanied by your guard, who watches from afar, hand on the hilt of his sword in preparation for the slightest thing to go wrong.

To his credit, for a second you think that it does. One moment, you're leaned over the fountain, investigating your reflection in the water and toying with a loose lock of hair, and the next, runes swirl in the air in front of you, green and orange wisps that foretell a teleport about to arrive. The brief scent of peaches and lemongrass is quickly overpowered by the scent of ash and gunpowder that follows, but you have just enough time to recognize the first before it's drowned out.

Eijirou is quick to pull you back and away, sword at the ready in case of intruders, but you grab his arm with a frown, intending to tell him about the familiar scent before he tries to cut someone down, and more importantly, you should move them from the water before there's a teleport mishap.

"Eijirou, wait–"

"It's alright, your highness," he says firmly. "Please step back."

You bite your lip, watching with anxious eyes as the runes finally take proper shape, dropping from their swirls two familiar faces, who land directly into the fountain with a loud splash.

"Eijirou, stand down," you order quickly, willing yourself not to swear as you rush forward. Speaking of swearing, Izuku's knight ('Kacchan', you think he was called?) is doing an awful lot of that as he climbs out of the fountain and extends a hand to help Izuku up.

The minute both men are out of the water, you curtsy with a profuse apology and begin focusing your magic. After rigorous magic tutoring earlier today so you could finish early, you're a little bit close to being tapped out, but you should still have enough left to dry them off.

You breathe in slowly as you lightly touch their arms. On an exhale, the excess water pulls away from both of their bodies and clothes. You struggle with the hair, but it's better not to pull all the water at once. Carefully, you will it back to the fountain, your runes dutifully carrying it away.

"You have my deepest apologies," you say quickly as you pop up on your toes to reach Izuku's hair and try to work out all the water with your magic. "I hadn't thought that you'd be using me as a teleport point, or I'd have not been standing so close to the fountain! In just a moment longer I'll have you cleaned up, so please hold still."

Izuku is silent as your fingertips brush his scalp, his eyes fluttering shut as you focus on the water. Frowning, you bring another hand up to assist you. His hair's so thick, pulling the water from it is nothing short of a struggle. Meanwhile, Eijirou focuses on helping the other knight dry his own hair.

With the water finally obeying you and pulling away from his curly locks, you have the moment to realize just how soft Izuku's hair is. It looks more like a mop than anything from a distance, but now, you feel almost like you're petting a kitten, a sensation only furthered by the fact that he's literally pressing his head into your hand. You honestly don't doubt that he'd be purring if he could.

Once you're properly done drying him off with a little magic, you remove one hand from his head to stifle your giggle. The other lingers in his hair just a moment. "Sorry, you have really soft hair. Did I miss any spots?"

You're careful to look him over for any wet spots on his clothes. His hair is back to its usual fluffy mess, causing you to wonder how much time his attendants must spend trying to tame it on a daily basis. When you're both satisfied that he's dry, you quickly pull the rest of the water out of his knight's hair and return all of it to the fountain.

"I really do feel the need to apologize again for that. I thought to pull your runes away from the water, but..."

Izuku shakes his head with a smile. "No, really, it's all right! I should have told you ahead of time that we'd be using you as the anchor point for our teleport. We must have startled you."

"Perhaps a bit, but once I realized it was you I was reassured!" You shoot him your best grin. "Are you two ready? I can go inquire as to when the dinner will be ready before announcing your arrival, if you'd like."

"Ah, yes, please," Izuku stammers. "I wouldn't want to rush your chefs, however—"

Izuku's cut off by the sudden swirl of familiar teleport runes in front of you. The smell hits your nose before you recognize the inky blue, and you crinkle your nose in distaste at the smell of seaweed. Your father's runes. What materializes isn't him, but a simple note, not even written in his own handwriting: Whenever Prince Izuku arrives, dinner is ready and waiting.

You smile. "Ah! Perfect!" You carefully stick out your tongue, pulling forth just enough magic to pull off your favorite new trick: teleporting just enough ink to a page to write without a pen. Izuku just arrived. I'll escort him to the dining hall.

You send back the note with a wave of your hand. "My father says that dinner is already prepared for whenever you arrive, my prince." You say the last two words in a playful tone, grinning at him mischievously and offering one arm to him. "If it pleases his highness, I'd be honored to escort you to dinner."

He chuckles, looping his arm through yours. "By all means, lead the way, m-my dear."

You giggle as you lead him out of the gardens. "You were so close to a smooth delivery there."

Izuku rubs the back of his neck with his opposite hand, blushing lightly. "S-sorry. I'll do better next time."

"I think it's endearing, actually," you comment, hiding a laugh behind your hand when he lets out a choked noise in response. "Only change if you want to, my prince."

"H-hey! Who's courting who, here?" he whines desperately, hiding his face. You toss your head back in a laugh. "Oh, but that actually reminds me!"

Izuku stops suddenly, turning to you and producing a single sprig of forsythia. He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, and quickly pins it in place with the yellow blooms. "There. They suit you, Princess."

Your cheeks tinge pink at the sudden gift, worsened by the way he smiles and laughs lightly at your expression. "There, now I'm not the only one blushing."

With that, he pats your cheek, turns, and heads toward the door, opening it for you with sparkling eyes.

"Wh—hey! I'm supposed to be the one escorting you, you little—" With an indignant squawk, you scamper after your fiancé, cheeks still burning red.

Forsythia symbolizes anticipation.

"So, Prince Izuku," your mother says, carefully setting down her soup spoon to peer across the table at your fiancé. "My daughter tells us that you wished to speak to us?"

Izuku's calm and collected as he sets down his own spoon and swallows his food. When he's ready, he opens his mouth and speaks in even, princely tones that don't suit the Izuku you've come to know through his letters. You suppose this means that he's in 'Prince mode'. "Yes, that's correct, your majesty."

Your mother wrinkles her nose in distaste, waving her hand in front of her face as if she's smelled something unpleasant. "Oh, please, dear. If you're marrying my daughter, I'd rather you treat me like family."

"Oh, of course, ma'am. I didn't intend to offend you. I was surprised, actually, that you allow [name]—I mean the princess to refer to you so directly. My father insists on being addressed by his title at all times, no matter who is speaking to him, so I assumed you'd be the same..."

Your mother laughs. "No, nothing so strict. There are plenty of ways to command respect without the sort of iron fist King Hisashi rules with, if you don't mind my saying."

"Mother," you hiss. "Please refrain from insulting Izuku's father in front of him."

"Oh, no, it's all right, [name]," Izuku says. "I know my father isn't exactly... popular when it comes to others' opinions of him. It's refreshing to be far enough from his influence that I'm actually made aware of it, however."

Your father speaks, the first time since the two of you entered the room to eat. "You never answered the question, Prince."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at how overtly protective he's acting. Moons, he's the one who arranged your engagement to Izuku!

Izuku swallows, and from your proximity, you can see him reigning in his stutter to answer. "...yes. My apologies. I wanted to ask if you'd grant your permission to allow your daughter to accompany me on my seasonal trip through my father's kingdom. My father has historically insisted on these trips to encourage my growth into my role as heir to the kingdom and, hopefully, to build a sensible rapport with my people before I take the throne myself. Since Her Highness and I are to be wedded this year, my father has agreed that it would be ideal for her to join me, so that we might grow closer and our people might learn her face before the wedding occurs. And I, personally, would love to have her company on this excursion."

Your father eyes you with a raised eyebrow. "I assume your betrothed spoke with you about this ahead of time, [name]?"

You nod. "Yes, father. We spoke about it briefly through letters, though I haven't yet requested the full details."

"How many guards typically accompany you on these excursions, Prince?" your mother asks, a hint of interest in her voice.

"It varies depending both on time of year and the prevailing public opinion, but there's always at least four. I'm fairly proficient in combat, and the guards chosen to accompany are all those whom I trust and have been chosen through several combat trials to determine their ability to provide adequate protections. We try to keep the detail low, to prevent from straining resources for travel and not draw too much attention during my travels. If necessary, I'm sure my father would be happy to increase the numbers to ensure your daughter's safety."

"My daughter doesn't know her way around a sword," your father says darkly. (Patently false, but he doesn't need to know about your habit of watching the guards during their training when you have the time, or the fact that Eijirou is more than happy to show you your way around a blade when he accompanies you about the castle.) "If I allow this little excursion, it will be your head if she doesn't return to me unharmed."

"Father, please don't threaten my fiancé," you groan. "I am capable enough with both offensive and defensive magic to defend myself—"

"[name]," he says sharply, not sparing you a glance. "The men are speaking."

Wounded, you snap your mouth shut and return to your food in silence, keeping a trained ear on their conversation and an eye on Izuku, who seems to have gone stock-still at how you've just been addressed.

"Of course, your Majesty," Izuku says, voice strained. "I would never dream of allowing harm to come to her."

A tense silence falls over the room, until finally, it's broken. "The excursion would be followed by a week's stay in the royal palace, if your Majesties and her Highness are all in accordance. I proposed this to my father as a way to allow her Highness to meet with my family and acclimatize to the palace, rather than merely the surrounding kingdom." Izuku's knuckles are white as he grips his spoon.

"I'd prefer to speak with you about this matter in private, Prince," your father says through gritted teeth. You wither under the atmosphere, eyes glued carefully to Izuku as he barely conceals a glare in response.

You're suddenly regretting all the anticipation you'd had for this meal.

"Meet me in the palace gardens before you leave," you'd whispered in Izuku's ear as he left the room at the end of dinner. He nodded then, before following your father to his study with Kacchan in tow.

Your father is an imposing man when he wants to be. Izuku has to remind himself to stand firm, to not give off a moment's glimpse of weakness to the man standing across the room from him.

"If I'm being honest, I'd hoped that the son of the infamous King Hisashi would have been a bit more like his father," the man says, hands folded behind his back. He lets out a sigh, as if it's somehow inconvenient for him that Izuku doesn't demand fear from others or threaten another's life or livelihood at the smallest slight.

Yeah, I get that a lot, Izuku wants to say. Instead, he simply nods. "I see."

"It is not unappealing, per se, for my daughter to marry someone like you," he continues, "but it would be ideal if you could properly set her into her role. She plays her part well, but my daughter is always pushing. She treads the line of her limits, as you saw when she spoke out of turn earlier."

"I'd have to disagree, your Majesty. I don't think [name] was out of line at all," Izuku says firmly, surprising even himself. "I don't know enough about her skills in combat well enough to properly defend them, but if she felt the need to stand up for herself, then I'm glad she acted upon it. What's the point in living if she's to be a quiet little doll who ‘stays in line’?"

Your father doesn't turn his head to look at Izuku, sighing yet again. "I don't think we'll ever see eye-to-eye on this matter. Perhaps it's best if we simply–"

"Did you want to speak further about the excursion?" Izuku interrupts coldly. "I'd be happy to give more details if you have any concerns, but my father would be upset if I returned without a proper decision. He's a busy man, as I'm certain you know, and preparations can't effectively be made if we don't know how many will be attending."

"...color me impressed, Prince Izuku," your father says. "I wasn't aware you had a spine."

"I find it more sound to not play all my cards at once, your Majesty."

"[name] may accompany you for your little trip. Her personal knight—I'm sure you're acquainted—will accompany her. Let me be clear that I was serious about your head should she not return."

"I was serious when I said that I wouldn't dream of letting her come to harm." Izuku's gaze is challenging as he meets the man's eyes.

Your father finally looks Izuku in the eye, one eyebrow raised. "See to it that you don't, your highness."

Taglist: @tooloudarts @zylith-imagines-and-fics

#my fics #bnha x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #fantasy au bnha #prince!izuku #princezuku #bnha royalty au #floriography fic #ooh look at me a chapter that's only 3k words

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thorne93 · 4 years

Text

The Stars Made Us (Part 7)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 2438

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

~~~~~~~~~~~

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

The next morning, you were about to meet Hank after the routine you’d set up when you saw Charles make his way towards the alcohol in the study.

“No,” you said sternly, following him in and taking the bottle from him. “No alcohol before noon.”

“I beg your pardon? This is my house. You are a guest here, and if I want to drink from sun up to sun down I bloody will,” he said, anger clear in his tone and frown as his eyes raked your form.

“Just until noon,” you repeated calmly. “Surely your serum will hold out until then? Why don’t you go set up a game of chess and I’ll be in the library to meet you shortly.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to distract me,” he noted, his face a mask of humor.

“Good thing you don’t know any better,” you teased with a tight smile. “Please? I know it’s a passion of yours and I’ve always wanted to play.”

“Wait, you’ve never played chess?”

You shook your head, innocence wrapping your face and gesture. “No.”

“Why not? Hasn’t everyone?”

“I was much more of a gin rummy kind of girl,” you explained.

“Ah, I see. Not in my wheelhouse but I could give that a go,” he offered.

“I’d love to show you… So, uh, off to the library then?” you asked.

He smiled and laughed. “Yes, I suppose we are meeting in there. Five minutes?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said with a smile.

He swept around you and as soon as he was out of sight you broke out into a sprint to find Hank.

“Hey, where’d you disappear to? I’ve started on extracting the--”

“I can’t help. Not this morning.”

“What? Why not?”

“Charles was going to start drinking and the only thing I could think of to divert his attention was a game of chess so… we’re playing chess.”

His eyebrows shot up. “So while I’m in here, you’re going to be playing a game?”

“I know, I’m sorry, but you want him to get better right? Maybe it’s best he has some company with humans rather than with a glass and a needle.”

Hank’s face fell.

“I’m sorry, Hank, I know you’re doing the best you can. I just… We need to keep him focused and away from the alcohol. Think you can work on this without me?”

“Yeah, I’ll do my best,” he said, a touch of disappointment in his tone.

“Thanks, you’re the best. I’ll try to be back as fast as I can.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sadly replied. “Just… go keep him company.”

An expression of sad sympathy colored your face. All you did was nod before dashing off to the library. Charles was sitting on the right side, a small table set up with chess as he sat there staring at the board.

You were surprised at how your heart felt every time you laid eyes on him. Even in his worst state, this man made you feel… grounded. It was as if you were walking around half-empty, then you got close to him and everything felt right with the world. Even if he was drug and alcohol dependent and a bit of an asshole, just being in his presence, everything was okay.

You walked in and sat down across from him, honestly a little nervous. Knowing this man through a screen was one thing, but sitting down across from him, it was an entirely different feeling. A different dynamic, especially since it had been a year since you’d even spoken.

How much had he changed? How had you changed? Talking every day with one person, you knew what to expect. He was in grad school, you were in residency. He was working towards teaching, you were dealing with patients. It was a no brainer. You swapped stories of graduations, accolades, promotions, and victories. What stories would you swap now? How his adopted sibling had abandoned him, his spine neglecting his ability to walk, his school ripped away from him, not a friend in the world except the two people in this mansion with him. What kind of stories would those be?

“Alright,” you started cheerily, “how do we play?”

“So you’ve really never played?” he asked with a bemused grin.

“No. I started to learn the rules once, from my uncle, but the idea of losing pieces just to win an endgame... “You shook your head. “It seems barbaric.”

He laughed gently. “There’s nothing barbaric about it. It’s a highly intellectual game that involves strategy and knowing your opponent.”

You looked up through your lashes as you glanced down at the board. “And you think you know me?”

“I’d like to think I do, after ten years.”

You made a noise of contemplation. “Hmm, I was under the impression you didn’t remember a thing about me.”

“Wanting to forget you and forgetting you are two vastly different things, Y/N.”

You smiled.

“You’ve never said my name before,” you noted quietly, your heart fluttering and warming. He might not think it was important, or nice at all, but you’d waited a very long time to hear this.

You were on a very different side of this romance. It appeared Charles wasn’t ready for it, but you were very much prepared to jump right in. Every little sentimental action he did, every little way he tilted his mouth, the way his eyes penetrated your very soul, the way his accent fell off his lips -- it was practically intoxicating. Here you were, swimming like a school girl like the night you found out you had a soulmate; yet it seemed for Charles you were just a guest to interact with, to mildly entertain.

It tore your heart asunder.

“I’m slowly learning to right some of my wrongs,” he said in a soft voice. “Alright, let’s see, so you have the pawn and the pawn can move like this, see?” he began and he took about ten minutes explaining the game to you, being very patient.

“You ready to begin?”

“Sure.”

So the two of you sat, playing chess, not saying a word for about twenty minutes, only halfway through the game.

“So, did you play this when you had your powers?” you inquired cautiously.

“Actually,” he began, making his move, taking your rook, “I did.”

“Did you use them?”

“I tried not to,” he explained, “but it’s like music playing in the background. You can pick up on things people are thinking if it’s loud, distinct, or stands out. So sometimes I would hear what they were thinking, sometimes I didn’t. I tried to ignore it.”

“How did you learn to control them?”

“Practice. Quieting them was...is… the hardest part. Once that’s done, I can do the rest easily.”

“And all the other… facets, like accessing memories, how did you learn how to do that? On a girlfriend or?”

He laughed, his eyes never leaving the board as you studied your moves as well. “Are you trying to probe to see if I had a girlfriend previous to our… relationship?”

You gave a quick half smile, filled with amusement. “I wasn’t consciously, but I suppose it slipped out. You’re avoiding the question, should I assume I’m right?”

“You know, Dr. Y/L/N, not everything or everyone has to be psychoanalyzed,” he countered teasingly.

“I know, I know. I just… I’m curious about that part of your life, that’s all.”

“For your information, I didn’t test on my girlfriend. I actually used my step-brother. When he bullied me, afterwards, I’d probe his mind. I realized I could access memories, get into his head, and learned in there. At first, it was an accident, and I couldn’t break the link… but then when we went to sleep, it broke. Later, I purposely tried to connect, disconnect, and read thoughts. Until his father died, and they moved out that is…”

“Did Raven ever meet Cain?”

“No. No, Raven came to us a few months after Cain’s father died and he moved away to live with his aunt.”

“I see. So you practiced on your abusive step brother?”

“It was all I had. Doing that to my mother felt wrong, Raven asked that I never do it to her, and with the kids at school I couldn’t tell if I was reading memories or fantasies. Your move by the way.”

“Oh, yes, right,” you said, snapping out of your sympathy induced trance. You made an arbitrary move before getting back to the conversation. “So no girlfriend?”

“Like a dog with a bone,” he muttered.

“I prefer the term persistent.”

“No, no girlfriend in the picture. Not for some time. I dated briefly, just after Harvard.”

“So… when you were seventeen?”

“Mhm. She was an undergrad. She wasn’t very mature though, so it was over before it began. I knew I wouldn’t find anyone on my level. I couldn’t even legally buy cigarettes but I had graduated college, so… the odds of me finding anyone worthy of my time were slim. Of course, that was before your scribbling showed up on my arm.”

“That wasn’t scribbling,” you accused with a laugh, fake offense in your tone. “I put a lot of time, thought, and effort into that, thank you.”

“If that’s your example of a lot of time and effort then maybe I still haven’t met my intellectual match, hmm?” he joked.

You narrowed your eyes before taking his bishop.

“Maybe you spoke too soon,” you challenged as he glanced up at you and you raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps I did. And you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you have a highschool sweetheart before you knew about me?”

“Oh, well… I don’t really see how it’s relevant--”

“Double standard, Y/N. That isn’t very nice. I was probed about my entire romantic career but I can’t get so much as a--”

“Fine. Yes. I dated. Two guys in high school. One lasted about eight months from January of sophomore year to the beginning of junior year.”

“And the second?”

“Four months of junior year.”

“No one dazzled you senior year?”

“Just you,” you hummed, not thinking before you answered.

“Oh, just me?” he asked, catching your little slip up.

Your cheeks heated before you smiled. “Yes, if I’m being totally honest.”

He was looking at you, curiosity and merriment burning in his face. He’d only glanced at you three times during this whole game. In a way, you were thankful. When he gave you a direct look you felt like you always had to overshare. When he was looking down at the board you could focus on answering carefully, filtering. When he was staring at you, it was like truth serum.

“So what happened with the other two?” he questioned as his attention drifted back down to the board.

“One was determined that I follow him, you know, go to the college he had his eye on, despite what I wanted. So we parted ways.” You made a move. “And the other liked a friend of mine more so we mutually ended things.”

“Sounds like you haven’t had any bad luck with men, so that’s good.”

“Sounds like you haven't had any luck with women. One woman throughout your whole life? You’re thirty-two.”

“Yes, so?”

“Well, if you only dated at seventeen--”

“Y/N, I met you, my soulmate, at twenty-one. I didn’t date after that, so, most of my life, has been with you… Romantically, that is, if that’s what you want to call this.”

“You swore off dating for me?”

“Of course,” he said as if it were obvious, “didn’t you do the same for me?”

“Yeah without question.”

“So why do you find it odd that I did the same?”

“Well,” you started, nervously wringing your hands, “you’re you, you know? Handsome, accomplished, driven, confident.”

“And you’re just a wet rag? Or what am I missing? You’re all those things as well, except handsome. I’d choose a different word.”

“And what word might that be?”

“Nothing short of stunning.”

His words made you blush quickly and smile to yourself.

“So tell me, why did you commit to us but were worried I didn’t?” he wondered.

“You just have so much more going for you than I do.”

“That’s not true. I know quite a bit about you and you’re quite the catch. Not to mention, I’m not like that. I was dedicated to you the moment we encountered each other.”

“I’m glad to know you felt the same about this.”

“Of course,” he concurred before the two of you finished the game, with him beating you easily.

“Ugh, see that’s why I don’t like that vile game.”

He chuckled. “It’s a fantastic game. You did quite well for your first time. I bet you’ll beat me next time.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, loudly. “Not likely.”

“You should believe in yourself more.”

“I believe in myself plenty, except when it comes to strategy games.”

“But you play gin rummy?”

“Well that’s entirely different,” you assured with a smile as the two of you cleared the chess game.

“Is it now? Well let’s just see. I’ve got some cards in my desk drawer there. Show me how to play and we’ll see if it’s all that different.”

“Okay, sure. You got to show your prowess, I’ll show you mine.”

“There’s that feistiness I missed,” he cheered as you got up and got the cards, his words making you stop for half a second.

So he did miss you...

“Okay, so the game is easy, especially compared to that mini war game we just played,” you joked and he smiled. Knowing you could do that to him lit you up inside.

You explained the game, all the rules and played. He caught on quickly, which didn’t surprise you - he was practically a genius. What did surprise you however, was that he beat you at your own game.

“How the hell did you--?” you started, flabbergasted, staring down at the table.

“All strategy games are the same, Y/N. I’ve been playing them for a while.”

“But this is my game and you, you just beat me.”

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser. You’ll do fine next time.”

“I should’ve done fine this time,” you mumbled. “Well I need to get dinner made, so I’ll be off. See you for dinner?”

He nodded and smiled and you left, reflecting on the good bit of information you’d learned that day. And focusing on how this might not be as bad as you thought.

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

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#the stars made us #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier fic #charles xavier #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fic #stephen strange #hank mccoy

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 4 years

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Mr. Radio Dj (Johnny Seo/Smut)

A/N: This wasn’t requested and I am really in my feelings about Johnny all because of my friend. So yeah, here we are. I want NCT Night Night back.

Tags: smut? uh fluffy smut? nothing to be scared of

Word count: 4863

August

Your first year of college was hard, you weren’t anticipating feeling that stressed, yet you managed to pull through. You had created a system, get back to the dorm, make dinner, turn on the radio to the college channel and work on your assigments.

The college radio show was very lowkey, playing every evening at 7:30 p.m to 10 p.m. From what you could tell not a lot of people listened to it, or knew about it but you thoroughly enjoyed it. The host being a 3rd year college student by the name of Johnny. From what you could tell he was quite funny, yet relaxed and very therapeutic to listen to. You found him to be quite motivating as well, always speaking words of encouragement before ending his show.

His radio show was one of the few things that kept you sane in your first year and you had grown quite attached. So when you went back for your second year, you were looking forward to hearing that familiar voice again. So there you sat, with a cup of fresh coffee in hand and your radio to your right.

“Welcome back students! It’s your host Johnny here, returning for my last year as host. Ahh, It’s so bittersweet.” Johnny paused and you felt sad. He would be graduating this year and you felt momentarily lost. His show had helped you through your hardships. “Sadly, this might be the last year for the show in general, no one would like to take over. So here is a public service anouncement. If you are at all interested in possibly taking over as host, please come into the on campus broadcasting building. The door is open between 5 p.m and 7:30.” He said with a tone of disappointment in his voice.

Being a radio dj wasn’t something you had originally planned on doing, but you thought it would be such a shame if the show died because no one would take over. So you made a split second decision, that the next day, you would go to the on campus broadcasting building and see if you were cut out to do it. You loved the show and it made your day better, so if you could do that for someone else it was nice.

You made your way to the broadcasting station after your class, incredibly nervous for no reason. The broadcasting station was home to your college’s local news program and the home to auditorium, where the film and acting students practically lived. It also housed the small, old dingey radio booth and record room.

You were surprised, the aree not being anything you expected when you entered. The record room was filled with cd’s, vinyls and cassette tapes and it smelled kind of old and dusty. But it didn’t bother you, it kind of felt cozy. To your left was the glass window, showcasing the DJ booth and you smiled to yourself. You walked up to it, looking in and just looked for a second, admiring it.

“Can I help you?” Johnny’s voice came from behind you and you jumped. He had caught you completely off guard and your heart was racing. “Oh my god.” You exclaimed, clutching your chest. He started to laugh, covering his mouth before apologising. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said and put his hands into his jeans pockets.

You never knew the face behind the voice and it surprised you to say the least. You weren’t expecting him to be so attractive. With dark brown hair, messily pushed back, white t-shirt tucked into black jeans and converse, he was effortlessly attractive. But you had to say, the feature that stuck out to you the most was his eyes. A nice warm brown with some golden tones. He was really attractive.

“Uhm, it’s okay. I’m actually here because of what you said in last night’s show. Looking for someone to take over for next year.” You said and his eyes went wide.”OH, I wasn’t expecting anyone to actually show up.” He said and leaned against some shelves. Johnny scratched his head, before looking at you with a smile. “I actually don’t know what to say, I really wasn’t expecting anyone to show up.” He told and you looked down to the floor with a smile.

“Yeah, your show kind of kept me sane last year, in my first year. So it would be a shame if it went away.” You said and Johnny felt himself blush a little. “I just realised, I totally forgot to introduce myself, I’m Johnny.” He said and extended his hand. “I’m Y/N.” You said in return and shook his hand.

“I’ve been doing this alone now for almost 4 years, so it would be nice to have some help this year and to show you the ropes if you really want to take over.” He said and you nodded. “Sounds good. I’m excited to start.” You said and Johnny beamed at you. His smile was almost intimidating and it seemed it could make you blush in an instant.

“So considering you are the only person to apply, you’re hired! Well, not hired because this isn’t a paying job but you get what I mean.” He said and scrambled into the DJ booth. You stayed put, just watching him and fixing your hair a little. He came back, his phone in hand and handed it to you.

“If you could just give me your number and then I can send you the schedule and stuff.” He said and you simply gave him your number. “Thank you for giving me this chance.” You said with a humble smile.

Johnny was still surprised, his mind being a little blown at the fact that someone responded to his PSA. Let alone someone like you. He thought you were gorgeous, generally not the type of person that would listen to a crappy little radio show and enjoy it as much as you did.

“I will text you the details and when you should start.” He said and you nodded. “Alright.” You said and he grabbed your hand and shook it in gratitude. “i’ll see you.” You said and smiled at him one more time before leaving. Johnny nodded and watched you leave.

The second you were gone, he let out a sigh of relief. Even though the radio show wasn’t something he was paid to do and not a lot of people listened to it. He was proud of it. it was something he had made and he didn’t want to see it die. Because of you it wasn’t going too and he could really appreciate that.

When you got back to your dorm, you turned the radio on and started cooking your dinner. That familiar intro started and you couldn’t help but smile. “Today’s show is kind of special.” Johnny’s voice filled your ears as you stirred. “I got approached by someone today is willing to learn the ropes to become the new host. Y/N, I know you’re listening. I just want to thank you. I was too speechless this afternoon. It means alot.” He said and you stopped your actions. You felt your heart flutter as the first song played. You were happy you were going to be a part of the show.

The schedule required you to be there everyday at 5 p.m until the show was over and on Saturdays from 10 a.m untill 10 p.m to discuss the coming weeks shows. Sunday there was no show and you had a day off.

You didn’t mind the busy schedule. Your first year in college you barely took any time to focus on other things aside from school and it drove you nearly insane. The radio show would be your way to unwind and you started that Saturday.

That morning you made sure to get up on time to go get coffee and muffins for the two of you and you entered the broadcasting building. The door was proving to be a pain as you held 2 hot coffees and a bag of muffins. “Here let me help you.” Johnny’s voice said and opened the door for you. You quickly entered the room and placed the coffees and muffins on the table. “Thank you.’ You said and Johnny just nodded. “I brought you a coffee.” You said and handed it to him. His fingers grazing yours as he graciously took it from you. “You didn’t have to, but thank you.” He said and sipped.

You two sat in the DJ booth and started brainstorming ideas and playlists. DIscussing music and interests, just getting to know each other. Johnny was just like he was on his radio show, very open and very warm. It also seemed your interests were very similar and it made you really happy.

“Oh, thank you for what you said in your show the other night. It was really sweet.” You said thanking him and he smiled. “Well I really meant it. This show means a lot to me and I don’t want to see it die.” Johnny said and leaned back. “But now that I’ve talked to you more, I see we have a lot in common so I don’t think show will change much when you start to host so it’s nice. Even our playlists are similar, I really like it.” Johnny told you and you two locked eyes for a moment.

He was so warm and considering you had listened to him talk for over a year, it felt liek you knew him really well. You were already starting to form a crush on him and you mildly hated yourself for it. It was Johnny’s last school year, the last thing he would want would be to date a 2nd year and a someone he would be working with. So you pushed your feelings to the back of your mind, only wanting to focus on doing the radio show well.

You learned a lot in your first few months working under him, it genuinely surprised you. You didn’t realise how much work it actually was but it became something you were really interested in. Johnny definitely helped peak your interest. But he also supported you and was very proud of how fast you picked things up.

October

It was a Saturday night and you had been there for 2 months, loving every second of it. Johnny was wrapping up the show for the night as you finished re-arranging the records on a shelf, a little project you had decided to take on while Johnny DJ’ed.

The door to the booth opened and the first thing you heard was a yawn come from Johnny. “I don’t get how you can still be so tired with how much coffee you drink.” You said, grabbing a stack of vinyls off of the shelf. “I don’t get how you aren’t tired with how little coffee you drink.” He retorted and moved to flip through the vinyls with you.

“You going to go home soon?” He asked and you paused to look at him. “Not yet, I want to finish this shelf.” You said and he nodded in response. “What does your boyfriend think about you working here with me almost everyday ‘till 10?” Johnny said and the question made you laugh. “What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You asked him and sat down on the table, your legs dangling over the floor. “I don’t know, you have a good head on your shoulders, you’re smart and you’re definitely beautiful. Seems like it would be obvious that you would have a boyfriend.” He said and his words made you blush before he held up a vinyl of Weird Al, making you laugh.

“I really appreciate that. But no, no boyfriend.” You said and he frowned. “Why?” He asked and sat down next to you. The questions didn’t make you uncomfortable, you were comfortable with Johnny, even in your short time knowing him. “Not looking to find one. If it happens, it happens. I’m content until it does.” You told him and he just nodded in understanding. “Now, let me flip the question. Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” You asked and he started laughing.

“Why must you ask such painful questions?” He asked with a pained face. “You asked them first!” You said, smacking his chest lightly. “I have my eyes on someone. They just aren’t really aware of it.” Johnny said, turning to you. “Ahh, so you’re a stalker.” You joked and he laughed. “I guess so.” He said in response.

You two were looking at each other, eyes locked in complete silence. The radio room was dimly lit and you two were the only ones left in the broadcasting building.

“It’s late, we should probably lock up. You can finish that shelf Monday.” Johnny told you and you saluted him. “Yes, sir.” He just looked at you before laughing to himself. “Hurry up, I’ll walk you home. It’s really dark out.” He added and your heart fluttered at his gesture. But considering he had his eyes on someone, you knew it was only him being a good guy.

December

Johnny was stumbling over his words as he watched you organizing cd’s. The Christmas lights you had strung up in the room lit your face up beautifully and he was finding himself distracted by you as he tried stringing sentences together. “The next song is a bit more relaxed, I hope you enjoy it.” Johnny said into the mic before turning it off and turning the song on.

He sat back in his chair, just watching you mouth the words to the track playing. You looked especially beautiful to him that day. No makeup, nothing in your hair either, just down and framing your face nicely. You were wearing a big sweater, simply skinny jeans and and ankle boots to raise your height a little.

Johnny wanted this show tonight to be over. Not because he wanted to leave your side, but because he couldn’t exactly talk to you while he was on the air. He just wanted to get closer to you.

You looked up from the cd’s at Johnny in the booth. Not expecting him to be looking at you but on his phone, only to lock eyes with him. The sudden eye contact caught him off guard and he looked away instantly and tried to find something to do instead of stare at you. You laughed to yourself at his actions as you watched him drop his phone in panic.

Johnny bent over to pick it up and cringed to himself. “Johnny, you’re a fucking idiot.” He mumbled to himself and sat back up to finish the show.

You had finished organizing your shelf and moved yourself to the small couch in the room. “That’s it for tonight everyone. Remember to take care of yourselves on these cold nights and know you are loved. Goodnight.” Johnny’s voice filled the room and it made you smile. Those words that encouraged you much and still did. It was nice to hear.

Johnny exited the booth and sighed seeing you all cozy on the couch before laying down. His legs dangling over the arm rest and his head in your lap. “Comfortable?” You asked and he nodded, looking up at you with hooded eyes. You looked at his face, admiring his eyes and plush lips, but looked away just as fast. You felt sad for a second, knowing he would be gone next year and you’d have to be on your own.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked and sat up. Johnny was really close to you, his hand on your arm in comfort. “How am I going to do this without you next year?” You asked and he looked at you confused. “You’re great at this, the radio comes natural to you.” He said and comfortingly drew circles on your arm. “Not what I mean. You are my motivation at this point. You make my day better, Johnny. How am I going to be able to do this?” You said and Johnny felt his heart stop as you looked at him. Your eyes were filled with emotion and worry, then you looked down.

Johnny moved his hand to your chin, making you look at him gently. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re smart, strong and you can do anything. If anything I’m stressed about what I’m going to do without this show and you next year. I wish I knew you sooner because, well you’ve become a big constant in my life. A constant I don’t want to live without. I see you everyday and you make me happy.” Johnny said and you almost felt like crying. How Johnny could be so sweet to you was beyond you.

You tried looking away, wanting to hide the way your cheeks burned under his touch and words. Only he held your chin firmly, yet still gentle. Johnny felt a rush of confidence a took a deep breath before leaning in.

He pressed his lips to yours, catching you off guard but not unpleasant. Johnny’s hand moved from your chin to your cheek and revelled in the way your lips felt soft against his. If your cheeks weren’t hot before, they definitely were now and you couldn’t help but get a little lost. Your hands moved to his chest, gripping his shirt tightly with balled fists.

Johnny pulled away for a second and pressed his forehead to yours, but you didn’t want him to stop. You needed him. You hungrily kissed him again and he chuckled against your lips. Pulling you closer, as close as he could with the way you both were sitting, he gave up and settled for pulling you into his lap. You smiled and wrapped your around his neck as his fingers stroked your cheek. His lips lazily moving against yours.

You adjusted your position once more, pulling away so that you could straddle his waist. He whined in response, the noise surprisng you both and making you smile. “You see what you do to me?” He asked, looking up at you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You tangled your fingers in his hair and the way he held you made your hips roll over his. The action caught you off gaurd and made a moan leave your own lips.

“How are you the most beautiful woman I have ever seen?” Johnny asked, wanting you to roll your hips again because he revelled in the feeling. You kissed him again, wanting him to stop complimenting you because you felt awkward. Not being used to the praise.

His tongue slipped into your mouth gently and he pulled you flush against him, his hands accidently slipping under your sweater. He immediately moved his hands again, not wanting to take this somewhere you didn’t want it to go, just in case. You noticed the gesture and your heart fluttered once more.

You also couldn’t help but notice how soft his hair was, how soft his lips were and how gentle his touches were. Everything made your brain foggy, you were willing to risk it all for him at this point and he felt the same. It had been a long time since a girl made Johnny want to be in a relationship, let alone a few months before he left college.

He flipped you two over swiftly, your back resting on the couch cushions and your head on the arm rest. “How far do you want to go?” Johnny asked and the question threw you off. “I need you.” You said, sounding nearly out of breath. How needy you sounded really surprised you . “Fuck.” He muttered under his breath and looked you over. How flushed your face was and how swollen your lips were. It was turning him on more than he was expecting it too.

Johnny’s hand gently moved under your sweater, pulling it off of you slowly and placing it on the floor. He couldn’t help but swallow thickly looking at your nearly bare torso. He moved his face to your neck, kissing the skin gingerly. He didn’t want to leave any marks. He’d save that for another time (if you wanted this to happen again). He wanted this to be light and airy. He wanted this to be soft and loving. Johnny wanted this be memorable and loving.

His feathery touches made goosebumps cover your body and sighs escape your lips. His mouth moved down, coming to the edge of your bra before reaching behind you and unhooking it. He paused, looking at your face again and taking not of how dark your eyes were. “Clothes on or off, you’re the most beautiful girl I know.” Johnny told you and you covered your face. “Johnny, you’re going to make me cry.” You said and he chuckled. “I’m going to keep complimenting you, regardless. My goal is to make you feel loved.” He said and you looked up at him, eyes filled with happy tears. You managed to keep them in, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Your hand moved to his sweater, tugging it off of him. He wasn’t extremely muscled, but he was lean and toned and beautiful to you. Your hand moved down his chest and stomach, stopping at his belt before moving down a little further. You palmed his bulge through his jeans and Johnny let out a sigh of relief. His head falling down as you continued to do so.

His hand moved to your jeans, unbuttoning them and tugging them down. His actions were a little harsher, slowly starting to be fueled with need. Johnny fingers danced over your panties, causing a little friction. He watched your eyes flutter shut before stopping his slight teasing. He pulled your panties down your legs and rubbed your clit lightly. Relief filled your senses as he finally touched you. You felt so needy.

Johnny connected your lips again, then slipped a finger into you. He wanted to make sure you were ready for him. It surprised him how wet you were and how badly it felt like you needed him. Your velvity walls tightening around his finger. You moaned against his lips as he picked up the pace. You dug your nails into Johnny’s shoulders as he added another finger.

“Fuck, Johnny.” Your moans sounded so breathy, Johnny could barely take it anymore. He pulled away and stood up to pull his own jeans and boxers down. You propped yourself up onto your elbows, watching him as he went to his wallet and pulled a condom out. This moment reminded you, Johnny was still a college boy.

He moved back over your body, hooking his arms under your knees and pulling you further down the couch. “Are you ready?” He asked as he sat inbetween your thighs, his hands rubbing your skin. You nodded, only wanting him at this point. He guided himself towards your entrance, rubbing his tip over your slit slowly. That feeling alone making you even more wet. “Johnny~” You whimpered and he groaned, making the choice to just bottom out straight away. “Fuck.” You said with a gasp, needing a second to adjust to his size. Your hand moved to the back of neck, pulling his face closer to you.

Johnny was doing everything in his power to not move too harshly, wanting to feel you. “Please move.” You whined and Johnny moaned. He leaned down, kissing your lips messily as his hips snapped into yours. His gentle touches slightly less gentle. His need for you taking over. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into you, making sure to take the time inbetween. He wanted it to last. Your whimpers were soft and he moved his head to rest in the crook of your neck. Johnny picked up the pace even more, his hips snapping into yours at a steady pace.

He could already feel you tightening around him as your whimpers turned into loud moans. Johnny couldn’t hold back, a few moans leaving his mouth as your nails dragged over his back. “You feel so good.” He moaned out and it was possibly the hottest thing you had ever heard.

The months you had just listened to him talk, the last thing you expected was to hear him like this. It made the coil in your stomach tighten even more.

“Fuck Johnny, I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders and pressed his lips into yours as his fingers rubbed over your clit. He wanted you cumming, he wanted you to feel as good as he could. That and he was close to cumming himself.

A small scream left your mouth as you felt yourself cum. Your toes curling slightly and your grip on Johnny tightening. He moaned loudly, feeling how tight you had clamped down around him. He rutted his hips into you again, stalling as he came himself. You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair as he came, small whimpers leaving his mouth.

“Oh fuck.” He sighed, his body weight falling onto you. “You okay?” You asked inbetween breaths, your fingers still moving through his hair. “I’m better than okay, but if you keep running your fingers through my hair, I’m going to fall asleep.” He said and pushed himself off of you. You whined at the loss of contact and he rubbed your leg with his hand. You took a deep breath and sat up yourself, your body still slightly shaking.

“If it wasn’t clear. I really like you.” He said and you felt shy all of a sudden. You pulled your bra and sweater back on, looking for your panties only for Johnny to hand them to you. “Thanks.” You said and he laughed, getting dressed himself.

“I really like you too.” You said, looking at him and he smiled. “You’re going to do just fine next year. Anddddddd, if all goes well. I can still be around. But only for you.” He said and you couldn’t help but smile. You pulled his face towards yours and kissed him.

“So does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?”

April

You sat in the office chair across from Johnny as he closed the radio show for the night. It was quite amazing, the show had gained at least a hundred listeners and it improved Johnny’s mood a lot on the show. You tried to keep quiet as he told a bad joke. He looked at your pained face at the joke and had to hold back his own laugh.

“Goodnight, everyone.” He said and turned the mic off and the broadcast. You let out your laugh and you both stood up. You started heading for the door and he pulled you back. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked and you couldn’t help but giggle. He picked you up, putting you on the desk and settled inbetween your legs.

You were wearing a sundress, the weather having been extremely nice and warm and Johnny loved it. His hands moved over your thighs as he kissed you, before wrapping your legs around his waist.

June

“I can’t believe today is my last day being a DJ.” Johnny said into the mic and you waited in the record room. You wanted to let him have his final moment and you didn’t want him to see you cry.

“I had a fun four years doing this. And I have had a lot of beautiful moments in this radio room. I’ve felt lonely, I’ve felt loved and I have felt appreciated in this room. So it’s sad for me to leave. I want to thank everyone who enjoyed listening to me.” You couldn’t help but shed a tear as he talked, yet you quickly wiped it away.

“I’m leaving you guys in good hands. Next semester, my beautiful girlfriend will be taking over and she is better at this than I am. I know she’ll do great.” Johnny said and you sobbed slightly. You were incredibly nervous for the oncoming school year, without him. But you also knew that he would be there if you needed him.

“For the last time everyone. Please take care of yourselves, know you are loved and please, have a good night.” Johnny said and the room went silent. You were expecting him to walk out, but after a few minutes, you stood up and entered the booth.

He was sat at the chair, just leaning back and looking around the room. “Hey princess.” He said, noticing you walk in. He patted his lap for you to sit and you abided, wrapping your arms around him as you did. “Are you okay?” You asked and he nodded, locking eyes with you. “I’m fine. This is just the start to something new in my life. Besides, I’m not really leaving. I can visit you whenever I want.” He said and you smiled, stroking the hairs on the back of his neck.

“I love you, Mr. Radio DJ.”

A/N: I wrote this in one go. In one day and now it is 1 a.m as I am posting this. My alarm is going to go off in 4,5 hours. I hope you enjoy and I will spell check tomorrow.

#johnny seo #johnny seo smut #johnny suh #johnny suh smut #nct #nct smut #nct reaction #nct 127 smut #nct 127 reaction #nct 127

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canyourscienceexplainthis · 3 years

Text

And Your Jokes Are Always Bad

“Okay, guys, what’s the plan for tonight?” Sokka asks, looking through his rearview mirror at Aang and Katara’s shadowed faces in the back, and then over at Suki sitting in the passenger seat. “I thought we were heading over to chill at your place?” Aang questions from the backseat, arm wrapped around Katara and voice abnormally loud so he can be heard over the speakers blaring Rei Ami (it was Suki’s night with the aux).

“We aren’t going back to campus. If I have to go to one more party where everyone is talking about ‘Death of the Author’ or their latest shroomed out epiphany, I’m gonna jump off the roof of the library, I swear to God,” Katara says, rolling her eyes at the thought.

“Yeah, we can go to mine,” Sokka agrees, “but if you guys are expecting drinks or food at all tonight, we’re gonna have to stop somewhere cause my place is currently like an apocalypse shelter that’s running out of supplies.”

“Beer store and sevie it is!” Suki chimes.

With their drinks and snacks of choice acquired, the gang starts heading back to Sokka’s house, which they have affectionately named the shitshack. Listen, Sokka will be the first to admit that his house is a little...run down. “I think should-be-condemned is a more apt description, Sokka,” Katara had countered the first time she visited.

Sure, the foundation is caving in to the point that their bedroom doors couldn’t fully close because of the house’s slant. Yeah, weeds grow through the baseboards in the summer. And yes, he’s pretty sure there’s decomposing rat bodies under the sink cupboards. But he’s a struggling student living in one of the most expensive places in the country, and this place was as cheap as it gets (which is still way too expensive). He had decided long ago that he would rather live in an actual risk-to-human-safety with people that he can stand to be around than be paired up with strangers and live on campus.

“Fuck a princess I’m a king, bow down and kis—”

Just as they’re in the middle of the chorus, Suki’s phone starts ringing, interrupting their psyched-up, loud sing-along. Suki picks up the call but doesn’t unplug the aux, a raspy voice coming through the car’s speakers.

“Sukiii,” the mystery voice greets.

“Hey Zuko! What’s up?”

“Ugh, I’m bored! Come hang out with me,” the voice pleads.

“I’d love to, but I’m kinda on the way to my friend’s house right now…” Suki says, looking over at Sokka.

“Oh,” disappointment evident in his tone, “yeah, no worries, maybe next weekend.”

Suki glances over at Sokka again before saying, “wait, why don’t you come with?

Sokka looks over at her, shrugging his shoulders, silently saying, “the more the merrier, I guess.”

“You sure? Your friend won’t mind?”

“Nah, he’s cool with it. Where are you? We’ll come to pick you up.” At this, though, Sokka shoots Suki a glare. He has no problem with her inviting a friend over, but come on dude, gas is expensive! Suki rolls her eyes at him while waving her hand dismissively.

“I’m up at the school, actually,” he says, and Sokka nearly groans because that’s the complete opposite direction of his house.

“Really?” Suki’s eyebrow quirks. “Okay, we’ll be there in like, fifteen or twenty. I’ll text you when we’re close.”

“Okay, sounds good. Thanks Suki!” The music resumes when she hangs up. Sokka levels what he hopes is a withering stare at her.

“You know, I wasn’t kidding when I said I was going to start charging you guys for gas,” Sokka huffs.

Suki purses her lips, “alright, then I guess I’m going to stop helping you pass literally every single one of your humanities classes.”

Sokka pauses, considering whether or not it’s worth risking his GPA to continue complaining. “Fine, but anyone who isn’t helping me figure out what the fuck Derrida is talking about has to pay up!”

About 10 minutes later (because apparently, Sokka drives like he has a death wish), they’re parked outside Sokka’s first-year dorm. It’s giving him flashbacks to warm summer nights spent chilling in the woods with his friends and scattering into the trees when campus security eventually came to break up their drunken antics.

Thankfully, a light knocking on the passenger side window breaks Sokka’s train of thought before he can start dwelling on any of his more painfully embarrassing memories. It’s too dark out for him to see who knocked on the window, but Suki reaches over his lap to unlock the doors, so he assumes it must have been her friend.

What’s his name again? It starts with a Z. Zuzu? No, Zooko, yeah Zuko, Zuko, he chants to himself.

The door opens, and a shadowy figure slides into the back seat. Sokka pulls out of the parking lot and starts heading back into town. Aang, unbelievably (almost exhaustingly) friendly as always, is the first to introduce himself.

“Hey! I’m Aang. Your name’s Zuko, right?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Nice to meet you.”

“Hey, I’m Katara, and that’s my brother Sokka,” she adds, leaning past Aang’s head and pointing at the back of Sokka’s seat.

“Hey dude,” Sokka says, keeping his eyes on the road but raising his hand to wave at the stranger in the back seat.

“Hey speed racer,” Katara scolds, “both hands on the wheel!”

“Katara, if you can’t handle me at my fastest, you don’t deserve me at my furiousest.” Even though he can barely make out any of their faces in the dim light of his car, Sokka can tell they were all rolling their eyes at his attempt at humour. Except for Zuko, who snorts out a soft laugh. Sokka has a feeling he’s going to like this guy.

“At least Zuko thinks I’m funny.”

“That’s cause he doesn’t know you yet,” Suki scoffs. “He’ll learn to tune you out like the rest of us soon enough.”

The rest of the ride passes with easy conversation and songs that, according to Suki, “just make you feel like a bad bitch.” As soon as he pulls into his driveway, Sokka jumps out of the car, excited to finally be home and able to blow off some steam with his friends. He bounds through the door, bellowing, “Jet! Ruru! I come bearing booze and food!” Sokka drops the bag of snacks on the kitchen table on his way over to the fridge. Opening the door, he thinks it would be pretty apparent that they’re university students by simply looking at its contents; ketchup, leftover takeout that’s been there for who knows how long, and beer. Haru springs into the kitchen and grabs at the snacks, pulling out a bag of all dressed ruffles. “Aww, you got my favourite!”

“Only the best for the best roomie,” Sokka smiles back at him.

“Hey! What about me?”Jet asks, (like the fuck boy he is, Sokka thinks) meandering into the kitchen behind Haru.

“Maybe if you learn how to unload the dishwasher or take out the garbage once in a while, you’ll get surprised with your favourite snacks too.”

Jet frowns up at Sokka, “dick.”

“Yeah fuck you too,” Sokka says, tossing him a beer from across the kitchen.

The sound of Suki’s music emanating from the living room reminds him that “oh yeah, by the way, Katara, Suki, Aang, and one of Suki’s friends are hanging out here tonight.”

“Hell yeah!” Haru basically skips into the living room with Jet following much less excitedly in his wake. Sokka grabs some mixing bowls and starts emptying the bags of chips and popcorn. The last thing he needs is someone puking on his carpet because they started drinking on an empty stomach. From behind him, he hears a faint, “hey, uh, Sokka?”

“Yeah, what’s—” he starts, looking up.

Holy shit.

Standing in the middle of his kitchen is who he can only assume to be Zuko. He has long black hair tied up in a half top-knot and gorgeous golden eyes. He’s wearing a black bomber jacket and crimson button-up that contrast with his molten eyes and pale skin in an unfairly beautiful way. He also has on a pair of black skinny jeans that are really working for him and working for Sokka, too, if he’s honest. It’s probably a good thing, Sokka thinks, that he couldn’t see him in the car because he probably would have completely forgotten how to drive and ended up in a ditch.

Good God, Sokka chastises himself. Get your shit together and stop staring at this absolutely stunning man like a fucking creep. Sokka clears his throat and manages to stutter, “y-yeah, what’s up?”

If Zuko noticed his gawking, he’s kind enough not to mention it. “Just wondering if I could put these in your fridge,” he asks, raising a six-pack of Strongbow.

“Yeah, for sure!” Sokka manages, voice still a little uneven.

Zuko walks over to the fridge, placing his ciders beside Sokka’s beers, then takes one and cracks it. He turns to face Sokka again, and they both stare at each other for a moment, the only noise being the hum of the bass in the background. Neither one seems to know what to do next. Thankfully for Sokka’s current error 404 brain, Zuko pipes up first.

“You’ve got a nice place. I really like it.” If he were judging by the tone of Zuko’s voice, Sokka would almost think he’s being sincere. However, the evidence proving that this was, in fact, a shithole of a house was literally everywhere.

“Hey, it's okay dude, we all know this house is awful. No need to sugarcoat it,” Sokka chuckles.

“No, really, I mean it. Obviously, it’s got its...flaws,” well that’s putting it mildly, Sokka thinks, “but I like what you guys have done with it. Like,” Zuko points to a Pavement poster hanging on the wall in front of Sokka, “how you’ve decorated it.”

“Are you a Pavement fan,” Sokka asks, eagerness clear in his voice at the prospect of talking to someone about his favourite band.

The edges of Zuko’s lips curl into an almost indistinguishable teasing smile, and his eyes glance down to his drink. “I guess you could say that, if you think going to their reunion show in 2010 counts as being a fan,” Zuko notes nonchalantly. Sokka doesn’t know if he’s ever been more jealous of someone in his life.

“Oh my God! You’re kidding?! I would have killed to have seen that show! Was it incredible?” He asks, humming with excitement.

“If I told you it sucked, would it make you feel better about missing it?”

“It’s worth a shot.”

“Then no, it was one of the worst live performances I’ve ever seen. They completely fucked up Embassy Row.”

Sokka hums, grabbing his chin like he’s contemplating whether or not he’s still upset that he missed the show of a lifetime. “Yeah, I’m still jealous. Guess I’ll just have to catch their thirty-year reunion tour.”

Zuko genuinely smiles then, and any composure Sokka had regained in the last minute goes down the drain. “Yeah, I guess so,” he murmurs.

Suddenly Sokka’s attention is jerked away from Zuko’s breathtaking smile by a loud crash emanating from the living room. Spinning his head in the direction of his exceptionally disastrous friends who apparently cannot be left alone for ten minutes, he yells, “Hey! What the fuck are you guys doing!?”

Katara sprints into the kitchen wearing a slightly guilty expression, clearly searching for something. “Dish towels?”

“What did you guys do now,” Sokka sighs, giving her a handful from under the sink.

“Thanks,” she says, grabbing them, “uh, well, Jet bet Suki a round at the brewpub that he could beat her at beer pong, and they kinda both launched themselves at the table trying to get balls back…”

Sokka crosses an arm over his chest and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fucking menaces. I thought we all agreed that we weren’t going to let them do shit like this anymore! They’re both way too competitive, and our house seriously can’t stand any more abuse! For real, I’m surprised they didn’t fall right through a hole in the floor!”

“Do you really think there’s anything anyone could do to dissuade them once they’ve decided they’re gonna do something? No. So all we can do is mitigate the damages,” Katara emphasizes her words by holding the towels up to Sokka’s face.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Sokka concedes, “just tell Jet I said he’s a fucking asshole.”

“That,” Katara mumbles, walking back towards the rest of the group, “I can do.”

Once again, it’s just Sokka and Zuko standing in the kitchen. However, Zuko now looks incredibly amused.

“What,” Sokka levels at him with his patented wiseass smile, “is my living space getting even more trashed funny to you?”

“No, it’s not that. I mean, it’s just...I’m sure I don’t know Suki as well as you guys probably do, and I just met Jet, but he must be a real dumbass to challenge Suki to anything.”

Yeah, Sokka was right earlier; he’s really going to like this guy.

After many rounds of beer pong and even more spilled drinks later, everyone seems to be approaching the more relaxed stage of their typical hangout. Aang and Katara are sitting on floor cushions, leaning into one another, and Sokka can only assume, whispering sickeningly loving things. Likewise, Jet and Haru are having their own coupley moment on the futon in the other side of the living room. He still finds it hard to believe that they’re together, but opposites attract, right? He, Suki, and Zuko are lounging on the couch (which is probably the nicest thing in their house because it’s a hand me down from his dad and Bato, unlike all of their other thrift shop furniture).

Sokka and Zuko are currently monopolizing the conversation, discussing one of their favourite shows that Suki had noted she’d never seen.

“I mean obviously it’s fucked, but it blends misanthropy and humour perfectly into a nice nihilistic package,” Zuko says, his eyes locked with Sokka’s.

“Firstly, agreed. Secondly, how in the fuck are you using words like misanthropy and nihilistic when you’re five drinks down?”

Zuko’s eyes flick with mischief. “I guess I’m just too much of a genius for you to keep up.”

Sokka isn’t sure what to say to that. He’s starting to think Zuko might actually be a genius. That, or he just has excellent taste in music and TV, which, to Sokka, is basically equivalent to having Mensa level IQ. Also, Zuko is probably the hottest person he’s ever seen. All of this put together has him questioning where his brain cells have gone, or if he even had any to begin with.

Suki, taking advantage of the brief lull in their discussion, decides this is her moment to stir shit up. Sitting cross-legged on the corner of the couch and looking down at her nails, she suddenly breaks their conversation, saying, “hey Sokka, did you know Zuko and I were each other’s New Years’ kiss last year?”

In hindsight, Sokka wonders if Suki knew what she was doing. Maybe she just wanted to take Zuko down a peg for his arrogant comment, or she was tired of being left out of the conversation. Probably a combination, he thinks.

His brow quirks up as his gaze flashes back to Zuko, who is staring at Suki with an expression edging on murderous. “Oh yeah?’

“Suki…” the warning tone of Zuko’s voice doesn’t seem to faze her in the slightest.

“Yup,” Suki confirms, unperturbed and grinning wickedly. “Zuko was the only person I knew at the party and I thought, fuck it! So we decided we’d be each others’ kiss.” She looks up from her apparently fascinating cuticles and gazes directly at Sokka, “and he apologized to me after cause he didn’t think he was a very good kisser.”

“OH MY GOD, SUKI!” Zuko sputters, choking on his cider and blush colouring his cheeks.

“What? You did!” She argues, her grin morphing into something truly evil.

“That’s not fair! We were both drunk and, and...I don’t know! But I officially hate you and I’m never covering a shift for you again!”

Zuko looks absolutely mortified. Sokka holds back his laughter at the objectively ludicrous visual if only to save Zuko from even more embarrassment.

Sokka feels bad for him. Really, he does. Suki just blasted him in front of someone he met a couple hours ago. However, Sokka recognizes that she also set him up to bat, so he doesn’t really feel that bad.

“Well, I’ve been told I’m an excellent kisser,” Sokka says, putting on a voice that he hopes resembles something sultry. “I can show you how it’s done. If you want.”

He simultaneously feels very powerful and very vulnerable. Sokka knows that he excels in the kissing arena, but, and he can’t quite put his finger on why, but if Zuko turned him down, he would be really disappointed. Maybe it’s just because Zuko is so pretty, like Sokka wants to draw him like one of his French girls pretty, or maybe it’s because he hasn’t had any action in a while. Either way, he hopes Zuko is either, 1) into the idea, or, 2) lets him down easy.

They stare at each other for a beat, gold eyes meeting blue. Zuko looks down at his hands, curled in his lap, and his blush travels from his cheeks to his just barely visible chest. Sokka wonders if he’s ever seen anything so fucking endearing. Zuko nods so slightly that if Sokka had blinked, he would have missed it.

“Is that a yes?”

“Y-yes, um, yeah, you can do that…” Zuko stammers, looking up at Sokka with both nervous and pleading eyes, “if you want.”

“Yeah, I want.”

Consent confirmed. Sokka wonders if he should hold off because they’ve been drinking, but then he remembers that Zuko just used the word “misanthropy” not five minutes ago in casual conversation. At this moment, he doesn’t know if he could even look at Zuko without spontaneously combusting, so if anything, Zuko would be taking advantage of him, and Sokka is very okay with that. Sokka gently grasps Zuko’s hip with one hand and his waist with the other. He pulls him nearer, noticing how Zuko leans into his grip and silently exhales as the distance between them closes. Their eyes meet again for a fleeting moment. Sokka realizes that Zuko’s pupils are blown so wide that his irises are nothing more than a thin golden ring circling black.

Ever since seeing him in the kitchen, Sokka hasn’t let himself look at Zuko like he wanted to. ‘I’m sure he’s uncomfortable enough in a room full of strangers without you eye-fucking him every five minutes’, he said to himself. But now he can really admire him. Sokka is drinking him in, looking at him like something to be cherished, adored, kissed all over. Fuck. He is gorgeous.

Like Sokka had said, he knew he was a great kisser, but something about Zuko made him want to make this particular make-out session even better than great. Maybe it was because he was supposed to be showing Zuko how it’s done (ugh, nice line Sokka), or maybe it was because Zuko was without a doubt the hottest person Sokka had ever seen in real life. Either way, he knew he had to make the most of this.

Slowly he closes the last couple of inches between Zuko’s mouth and his. He feels Zuko’s shaky exhale on his lips, and damn if that isn’t hot. What feels like ages later, their lips press together. Sokka notes that Zuko’s lips are so deliciously soft, but also hesitant. The kiss is so tender and timid, and delightfully honey-sweet. He leans in farther, moving his hand from Zuko’s hip up his side to cup the back of his neck. Zuko’s mouth opens up in an almost silent sigh, and Sokka takes the opportunity to lick his bottom lip lightly before slotting his tongue alongside Zuko’s.

Sokka can’t remember the last time he’d shared such a delicate kiss.

He dated Yue in first-year, and they had shared some beautiful moments. Being each others’ first relationship, they traversed the adoring, intimate, and sometimes incredibly awkward territory that came with one’s first time. But she had gone to study abroad in Bhutan for a year, saying it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Before she left, they mutually decided long distance wouldn’t suit either of them and it would be best to break up.

And delicate wouldn’t be a word he’d use to describe his and Suki’s relationship. Obviously, they loved and respected one another. Still, it was very much just a good friends that hang out every day and sometimes hook up with each other and sometimes hook up with other people kind of deal. Admittedly, Sokka’s brain kind of imploded when he saw Suki sitting on Yue’s lap at a party about a month after she got back to campus. And it doubly imploded when they told him they were dating. He couldn’t say he wasn’t surprised, but he was happy two of his favourite people found someone that makes them happy. What? He loves love, okay?

But this.

This was...different.

Just as Sokka was about to move his attention from Zuko’s mouth to his cheek, neck, chest, anywhere and everywhere else, he was pulled out of the moment for the second time that night by Katara’s shriek of, “Jesus Christ Sokka! I don’t want to see that shit! Get a room!”

For a moment, he truly forgot that there was anyone else in the room. Snapping back to reality felt like waking up from a half-asleep half-awake dream. In the back of his mind he knew where he was and what was going on around him, but it was a hazy awareness, and one that he’d rather not focus on. Feeling feather-light and slightly out of it, Sokka gathered himself the best he could.

“Katara you do realize this is my house, right? Every room is my room!”

#Ok imma leave this one up tonight #please be nice #sorry i deleted it earlier #i got self conscious #atla #sokka #zulo #aang #katara #suki #yue #alt universe #jet #haru

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mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years

Text

The Two Fingers of Death || Morgan & Gabriel

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @bugbearnecessities & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Gabriel needs a snack and tries out a new scare in the English department offices, to unexpected results.

CONTAINS: slight zombie body horror

“I can't believe that bitch flunked me!”

Gabriel was not supposed to be in the ladies room, and he honestly felt bad about it. Normally he did his best to respect people's boundaries, especially those involving very intimate ceremonies like make-up fixing, gossip sharing and any other mysterious ritual that normally went on in the ladies' bathroom. But he had no choice, really: it'd been far too long since his last feeding, and between that and his natural instinct to just nap the winter away, his energy level was dangerously low, so he needed a little pick me up, ASAP.

And the ladies' room, he'd found, was the best place to get a quick fix: Gabriel only needed to hide in one of the stalls, conjure up the illusion of a giant spider and BAM. Instant snack, with high-pitched shrills on the side. But not this time, apparently. No, this time the two girls washing their faces were too focused on their angry rant against Professor Beck to pay his fake Charlotte any mind, not even when he made the spider dance. The girls sounded so genuinely pissed that for a moment Gabe forgot all about his hunger and just listened intently. Apparently Professor Beck hadn't been particularly impressed with Jessica's essay about The Tell-tale Heart, and frankly Gabriel hated the idea that Jessica could be turned off that masterpiece forever just because of a misunderstanding with her teacher. And truth be told, he was looking for a decent meal... Professor Beck was no murderer, but ruining Poe for young minds all over campus was two steps away from a federal offense, as far as he was concerned.

With that thought in mind, Gabriel waited for the two girls to go away and then he left the bathroom. A quick internet search later, he made his way to the professor's office, knowing that she'd probably be inside. He stood in the hallway in front of her door for a few minutes, waiting for the perfect moment and then, when no one else was in sight, he bent down to spy from the keyhole and focused intently, projecting his magic inside the professor's office.

Morgan cherished her office hours no matter what: if any of her students got over their anxiety enough to come visit, she had a chance to get to know them and put in enough help and suggestions to make whatever homework they turned in after more interesting; if they didn’t, she had some time alone to get her work done, have fewer things to take home, and listen to some her playlists that didn’t get as much airtime around the house. Today was the latter, and Morgan’s only concern was making sure she didn’t write down the lyrics to “Ivy” while she was trying to respond to her students’ questionnaires. There’s no shame in liking Twilight, she wrote, Looking forward to seeing what your thoughts will be when we get to Carmilla! She got through a few more like this, singing along under her breath since the Medievalist Bros were out doing stars only knew what. Her timer went off. Morgan jolted from the switch between Taylor Swift to the X-Files theme, hard enough that one of her earbuds fell out and rattled to the far side of her desk. Morgan chased it with her hand, only then noticing the bright, bleeding heart on her desk.

She yelped with surprise and scanned the room. “Hello? Is this, uh...for me?” Morgan hadn’t seen anyone come in with a special delivery. But then again, whoever had been tasked with it might’ve been too grossed out to ask questions or stick around. Deirdre was usually more discreet than this when she sent presents over, but sometimes she used her promise binding powers to be a little dramatic. Morgan laughed fondly, remembering a small candy box of eyeballs. “Babe, you shouldn’t have…” she sighed, and reached for the snack, which called to her the same way chocolate cake had when she was alive. Morgan reached and--nothing.

Morgan couldn’t stifle her whine of disappointment, but now there were more pressing problems. “Okay,” she called, louder this time and mildly irritated. “Now I know you’re hiding. Come on out!”

Gabriel had to stifle a villainous chuckle (or, well, the closest thing to a villainous chuckle he could muster) as he waited impatiently for the screaming and the flood of energy that'd follow. Alright, maybe a still beating heart was a bit much, but hey, she was a Lit professor, she had to appreciate the poetic justice in that, right? In any case he'd make it up to her somehow, anyone who listened to the X-Files theme couldn't be so bad after all, and...

Gabriel frowned. There was no screaming, no delicious fear. Why was there no fear, the woman had a freaking human heart on her desk! Granted, hearts were fascinating, Gabriel couldn't wait for the embalming classes to start just so he could maybe see one up close, but most people were at least a little squeamish about them. Was Professor Beck actually... Something else? Blood-thirsty murderer? No, it couldn't be: she'd also been listening to TSwift, and most comments he'd read about her on ratemyprofessors.com actually depicted her as a sweet, caring person. Then again, wasn't that what neighbors always said about serial killers? I never thought he'd be capable of something like that, he was always so nice...

The theory was starting to look more promising as Gabriel watched through the keyhole. She was trying to grab the heart, holy crap! And when her hand just passed through the illusion she looked... Disappointed? Gabriel was so confused that it took him a few moments to realize she'd called out to someone, to him. He hesitated. Should he just go away? That would be the wisest course of action, for sure. But then again, if Professor Beck was a serial killer wasn't it his duty to expose her? He, unlike most people, had the means to defend himself against a crazy murderer, after all. And also he was still so hungry. His mind made up, Gabriel took a deep breath and opened her door, his steps far more boisterous than he actually felt.

“I wasn't hiding!” Gabriel mentally slapped himself. Of all the things he could have said, that was going to be his first line to the very first potential serial killer he'd ever met? Lame. And then he added “Dude, you do realize that's a human organ, right? Like, from an actual person. With a hole in their chest. And it's bleeding all over your papers. Doesn't that... Scare you? Please be a little scared, please.” Even just slightly grossed out. And then he realized what he'd just said. “Uh, I mean... That's a human heart, professor.” Hunger was no excuse to ignore someone's academic accomplishments, not even those of a serial killer.

The door opened and Morgan reached for her bag. Salt, knife, iron, they were all still in there, even if she didn’t want to use them. A dozen different possibilities flickered past her head. Was this a trap? A hunter trap? Some magic critter she’d never heard of? Morgan was alone, and if it hadn’t been for her earbud falling out, she might not have heard anyone come in. This world was cruel and bloody and maybe she was an idiot after all for setting aside her combat training---But then the door opened a little wider and there was just a kid. A college kid, twenty-one at most. Not one of hers, although he did have that awkward intellectual vibe that her more enthusiastic boys held. But he didn’t flaunt that archetype like them, he hadn’t finished growing into himself yet. He wore his presence like a suit that hadn’t been tailored yet, a little oversized in some places and a little too tight in others. But maybe he was just flustered, and she was reading too much to give her mind something to do while she came down from the surprise. Morgan looked from him to the phony heart and back again. Scared?

“Uhhh…”

Granted, most people probably would. The Medievalist Bros absolutely would, even though they loved to posture about how ‘sick’ some of their favorite comic books were when it came to gore. But this was White Crest, people were weird, everything was weird. Please be a little scared, please. And it was only then that Morgan remembered the last time she had been startled by illusion magic: in her family’s old haunted house, the day she’d met Nora.

“It’s...so gross. Nasty, ooey, gooey, gross...thing! Aaaah!” Morgan eyed the boy as she tried to scream. But her heart wasn’t in the charade, she was too focused on the idea of there being another Nora in White Crest and what it was about her that made her seem so yummy to them. Sighing, Morgan deflated. “I’m sorry. I actually kind of…like this stuff.” Especially for dessert. “And it’s actually pretty good looking! More true to life than most movies. Actually, I was too caught up in the visual to know it was pulsing, but that is a really great touch. And um….” Oh, stars, he didn’t think she was being patronizing, did he? He was so young, and she didn’t want to crush his confidence. “Look, it’s not you. Really. Anyone more a...well, anyone different from me in this office and you would’ve really had something. And I’m not just saying that! But, if we’re going to be coming clean about our respective supernatural secrets, you should probably come inside and close the door.”

Gabriel appreciated the effort, truly, but Professor Beck's fake groans were doing nothing to quench his thirst for some genuine shivers. And in truth her act could even get him in trouble: someone might pass by, hear a teacher scream (albeit unconvincingly) and think he was attacking her or something. Which he was, technically, but not in a 'this might get you expelled' sort of way. So even though he was still more than a little disappointed his illusion hadn't sorted the desired effect, Gabe let out a sigh of relief when she apologized. And then, listening to her following words, he actually perked up, a tiny smile tentatively making its way on his face. “You really thought it was realistic? It's kinda tricky to really shape them from behind the door, and I focused really hard to get the rhythm right, but I figured it'd be like, uh... Shakespeare! Mess up the beat and the Bard is just not the same, right? Rhythm's important, so...” Gabriel's voice waned as he looked past the warm fuzzy feeling only a straight-A student could get from a teacher's praise and he finally realized exactly what she had said.

Slowly Gabriel took a couple of steps into the office and closed the door behind him, one hand awkwardly flying to rub his neck. “Wait. Respective supernatural secrets?” Wait, not the right word to stress. “Err, I mean- Supernatural secrets? I don't know what you're...” He didn't finish the sentence, he realized no one, lest of all Professor Beck, would ever buy it. Note to self: learn to come up with a decent lie when put on the spot. “Nevermind.” Gabriel blinked, once twice, three times as he felt the awkwardness of that pause weight on him like a heavy blanket. He drew little circles on the floor with the tip of his foot, unable to meet Professor Beck's gaze as he quickly added “Sorry. About the heart. I know you said you liked it -which we're totally gonna go back to eventually by the way... But, uh... Sorry about the intention behind the heart, I guess. I just...” His stomach chose right that moment to rumble loudly. “I'm really hungry.”

Morgan waited until the boy had closed the door and they were well and truly alone. She ached for her magic and good old fashioned silencing charms. Whatever confusion and discomfort she’d had around his trick was gone. He was too clumsy and good-natured for his own hunt. If she had been a hunter or some kind of heartless caster, he might be in a lot more trouble, and he put so much thought into his magic, he was so...eager. Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a young supernatural so positively engaged with their power and identity. She struggled not to smile as she said, “First of all, you really need to have your cover story in place before you do anything that might make a normie ask questions. You never know who’s going to turn out to be a hunter or an alarmist. You and I are fine, and I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but that may not always be the case.” She gestured for him to sit and reached into her bag for her pyrex, which had her brain stash, and her knife.

“Secondly, yes. The animal hearts I’ve seen are a little more purple-y, than that but not by much, and your average normie is definitely not going to notice any difference. And the texture of the blood? Amazing. We can and will circle back and it probably won’t take long because thirdly…” She eyed him warily. If anyone was going to not be terrified of what she was, it would be this kid, right? Nora hadn’t minded any, and whoever this boy was, he had her kind of fear magic. He thought bleeding hearts were cool, so maybe a whole zombie body might be something to feel excited about. Or at least...not something to flee in panic over. “Thirdly, first rule of supernatural club is you don’t talk about other people’s powers or species or whatever else without asking them. So I’m keeping this snack attack between you and me--well, I’ll tell my girlfriend, but I’ll leave anything specific to you out of it--and you’ll do the same for me. I uh, can’t help your food front, yet, but I can show you something about me that you might find….” Cool? “...Interesting.”

Morgan couldn’t help it; she smiled, she hoped. “How are you with real-life body horror? And how much would you like to see a real zombie…?”

Gabriel's fingers had a little spasm, desperate for a pen and a notepad. It was an automatic response, atavistic almost: when a teacher spoke, you took notes, and you listened and you learned. And man, was class fascinating today! Gabriel nodded, although part of him was so desperate to tell Professor Beck she didn't need to worry: he could become a 10 feet bundle of muscles and claws, he could defend himself. Then he remembered all those times his roommate had managed to draw penises on his face while he was snoring, and he realized that even an 800 lbs monster, when asleep, could easily be poisoned, suffocated, paralyzed... “Cover story is important, got it.”

As Professor Beck described the ideal heart, Gabriel tried to summon up a good image of it, but the result was somehow worse than the first one: less tangible, the heart illusion floated behind the professor, ghastly and practically see-through, such a pathetic attempt that he made it disappear without even showing the Professor. Gabriel frowned: why couldn't he do it anymore? Was it because he was running out of energy and needed a good scare? Or maybe it was because now he knew the Professor wasn't afraid of hearts, so his illusions would no longer be able to summon a heart for her? He would ask mami later, Gabe promised to himself: she was no bugbear, but with his father still doing his disappearing act she was the only one that had been able to give him any sort of info about those things. Until now.

“So basically supernatural powers or species is sort of like...” Gabriel paused, looked for the right metaphor, and then he perked up again. “S&M! Nothing inherently wrong with it, but some people don't really get or understand it so you gotta respect someone's choice to keep it on the DL.” Immediately he paled. Had he really just said that? To a professor? “Not that I know anything about S&M! I mean, that's not the point, the point is... Respect people's privacy, got it. I won't tell anyone about you, I swear.” Once again, Gabriel nodded solemnly, hoping that his awkwardness wouldn't make her doubt his sincerity as he raised his right hand up and made that promise, an oath he fully intended to keep.

Luckily for Gabriel, Professor Beck's next question brought the conversation back to a topic that was far more comfortable to him. “Body horror? Puh-lease! I'm majoring in Mortuary Science and yesterday I fell asleep watching The Hills Have Eyes... think I can handle some gor- Woah, wait, back up...” While during the rest of the conversation Gabriel's eyes had darted around the room, dancing between captive attention and awkward embarrassment , now they landed solely on the Professor, rudely staring. Normally Gabriel would have apologized about that, but all he could focus on right then was...“Did you just say... Zombie?” If the giant grin and wide-eyed excitement on his face didn't answer her doubts, the excited twitching probably would.

Morgan snorted with laughter at the boy’s comparison. More people knew about her species than the particulars of how she and her girlfriend frequently enjoyed sex together, and she didn’t know of anyone who was maimed for having a ball gag in their purse, but he was on the right track. “Oh, of course you don’t, totally just stuff you’ve heard around the dorms, strictly abstract, intellectual curiosity.” Her smile was knowing as she waved away the subject. There were a lot of things she was willing to speak to that other professors weren’t, but this wasn’t one of them.

The boy had put her so much at ease with his enthusiasm, she almost forgot to warn him. “What’s your name, by the way? This feels like a weird thing to demonstrate to just some kid in my office. But, anyway, brace yourself.” Morgan’s words were for herself too. It had been a while since she’d shown anyone this particular part of herself on purpose. She reached for the knife on her desk and raised it over her hand. She closed her eyes and imagined she was chopping carrots as she brought it down swiftly over her fingers.

There was a bite of pain, enough to make her whimper, but there were no tears, and by the time she opened her eyes and scooped up the two severed fingers to give to the boy, fresh white bone had sprouted from the sockets and red muscle and purple sinew were braiding themselves over it. The severed fingers did not bleed, per se, but dripped a few globs of black blood where they had been cut, but only when squeezed, like tube of toothpaste. “These’ll keep for about a day or two, if you want to stick them somewhere for somebody to find,” she said. “After that, they turn to goo.”

“Gabriel Rivera. Swear on mami's snake, I usually introduce myself before sharing secrets, but in my defense... Zombie.” There was still a hint of amazed incredulity in that last word, but any lingering doubt he may still have was quickly cut down with that swing of the Professor's knife. No matter how comfortable as Gabriel was watching gory movies or even studying the theory of preserving corpses, he still flinched out of concern for Professor Beck more than squeamishness. It was just a moment, and then he was back to enthusiastic curiosity. Without hesitation he grabbed the fingers and held them close to his face, squeezing a little and even sniffing them. He stopped short of tasting the dark blood and, after a few moments of enraptured studying, he looked up at the Professor again. “Did it hurt? Are you okay? Will they grow back?” She seemed pretty unfazed by the fact someone else was holding bits and pieces of her, though, so the questions continued rapidly, before she could answer. “Have you ever tried preserving them? I could stea- Borrow some embalming fluid from the lab and... Wait, is that offensive? Asking if I can keep your finger in a jar must be rude, I'm sorry. But just... Look at 'em!”

Gabriel traced the tip of her fingers with morbid fascination before closing his whole hand around them, like protecting some precious treasure. The Professor's words registered a second later. “Stick them somewhere for somebody? Wait, so you're saying you're not going to tell me I shouldn't scare people?” Not that he wanted to scare anyone, really, he just had to, as the waves of exhaustion made themselves known again. “Because I get it, it's not exactly nice. And, uh, I'd totally understand if you were upset about the heart or if, at the very least, you wanted me to just... Not scare people on campus. And I can totally do that, no feeding on school grounds is a reasonable rule! But since we're being so open I'll be honest.” Gabriel paused, a hint of guilt tinging his next words. “If you let me keep these I definitely will hide them somewhere. Pretty soon, too. And then I'll feed from whoever finds them. Kinda hoping it'll be Baker, since he's kind of an assh- A jerk. And then, after he runs away terrified and I'm no longer hungry I'll swoop in and retrieve them because I don't want the cops to close down the school to investigate your fingers. No need for a cover story if no one is the wisest, right?” Truth be told, Gabriel was proud of himself: between the pangs of hunger and the excitement of the Professor's revelations he thought it quite impressive that he'd managed to think ahead like that. Apparently moms with babies under cars had adrenaline bursts, teacher's pets trying to impress their new favorite Professor had bright ideas. “So, uh, if you want Baker to not see a severed finger maybe just...” It visibly pained him to finish that sentence and offer the fingers back, but he still did. “...Take 'em.”

“Yes, Gabriel, it hurt,” Morgan admitted, “But not to the same degree it would hurt you. And--” She waggled her hand in front of him. All the muscle had regrown on her once severed fingers and fresh skin was slowly growing from the knuckles upwards. “I’m fine. No need or interest in preservation. I can regrow anything but my head, which is great, because I can’t begin to tell you how many times my feet have been eaten by hungry critters here.” She determinedly kept up her blasé attitude, because at least this time she was in charge of what happened to her body. She didn’t need to feel like food or remember that to some creatures, even some people, she was only a thing. This was different. At least she and Gabriel were the same, and he understood the distinction between who she was and what she could do.

Satisfied, Morgan opened her pyrex and popped a brain meatball into her mouth, swirling it in some eyeball puree first. It would speed the re-growing process along and get the taste of fresh heart out of her head. “I should probably mention, the reason I wasn’t scared was because I kind of eat dead organs for dessert. Not really nutritious, but neither are candy bars, and that’s never stopped humans before. It’s like that.” She waved away Gabriel’s hand as he ate, insisting he keep the rather unconventional gift she’d handed him. “Oh, stars, what do you think I am? You’re, what, nineteen, maybe twenty? You’re a college kid, you need to eat! Granted, on campus is a big risk. But I understand that you need this.” And this gave her an idea. She scarfed down the rest of her food and ducked her head out of the office door. No one around, but there were some murmurs from the lower floors. Another class period had ended, and the Medievalist Bros’ lunch break was probably ending soon.

Morgan turned back to Gabriel, brow arched with a friendly challenge. “How do you feel about sticking a zombie finger inside a candy bar wrapper and telling a TA who still needs to respect women more that it came from a secret admirer?” She asked. “This will be easier if you have cash, but I don’t think my snack was so big that I can’t bust through some glass for a good cause. You can still save the other one for Baker. Also, side note, I really respect how fast you learn. But whatever you’re comfortable with, you should decide quickly, because my guess is we’ve got about five minutes to pull this off.”

Zombies were fascinating. Gabriel briefly wondered if there were any zombies working on movie sets, donating their limbs to get that perfect decomposing tint on the thousands of severed hands flying around during movies with a chainsaw-wielding maniac as the main character. Gabriel tried to listen to all the cool facts Professor Beck was spouting, but honestly it was hard for him not to get sidetracked by the gross, slopping noise of brains and smushed eyeballs being chewed. Not that it grossed Gabe out: he was actually memorizing it for his Scare Bank. “I'm 20,” He answered almost distractedly, with a small chuckle. “I only look younger thanks to my healthy diet.” Part of him was dying to ask about her diet: if organ snacks didn't cut it then what? Was the brain myth accurate? How come she was so present, so alert and aware? She moved like a living person, talked like one as well... Had she not claimed the title for herself Gabriel would have never guessed she was a zombie, not even after seeing her gulp down raw mashed livers. But something told him that was not a first meeting question, and the last thing he wanted was to upset the professor, so he kept those questions to himself. For now.

Gabriel's grin grew into a mischievous smirk as he listened to the Professor's plan. “Say no more, misogynistic dic- douchebags are my favorite meal! And it'll be the best two bucks I ever spent!” Acquiring the snack was easy, just a quick trip to the closest vending machine and back to her office, bless consumerism. Unwrapping the snack without tearing the plastic apart was a little bit trickier, but Gabriel was not going to ask the Professor to help, not after what she'd already done for him. Gabriel had finally managed to put one of the fingers inside the colorful wrapping. Not perfect, but hopefully the TA wouldn't notice. “Ready to go, just point me in that guy's direction and watch the magic happen.” He sounded more confident than he actually felt, but this time Gabriel's usual self-doubting and insecurities weren't enough to sully his excitement. “Also, do you want the candy? I'm not sure if you even can eat it. For all I know it's poisonous for you, like chocolate for dogs, and I definitely don't want to poison you.” The wrapped fingers almost fell as Gabe flailed and rushedly added “Not that I'm comparing you to a dog!!! And even if I did, hello, bear here! But, uh, what I mean is... You've been great, and I kinda feel like I owe you, so if you want candy it's all yours.” Another long pause. “Speaking of how great you've been, is this... Common for you? The whole reveal thing? Because it's a skill that might come in handy one day, really so I was wondering if I could maybe... Ask for your advice every now and then. Office hours only, of course!”

Morgan grinned, ducked her head out of the office door to listen. “Even better than that,” she whispered. She grabbed one of the spare chairs and tucked it near her own. “Have a seat here, and uh…” She grabbed one of the books stacked around her work and put it in front of Gabriel. “Look busy, or borrow it to read, if you want, I’ve got way more copies than I should really have.” She huddled near him. “The guy in question might be one of the people I share this office space with, so you can probably watch your handiwork play out if you really want. But, this is your scare, so you can do all the talking. Also, you can keep the candy. It’s not toxic, but it also doesn’t taste like much of anything to me.” She shrugged.

The TAs had made it to the hallway, making plans on how they were going to humiliate the competition on their next co-op game and how they were going to bribe the Anthro Babe into going out with Jeryn.

Morgan rushed herself, whispering rapid-fire, “And uh, about the reveals, I’ve only been dead nine months and I was a little depressed and graceless when I talked to my friends about it. I’ve been trying to work on it more recently, but you’re the first person I’ve told this month who didn’t feel the need to immediately run away. And I only made them check for my non-existent pulse.” She shrugged haplessly. “But, hey! Being dead is really different than eating fear. Maybe--”

Jeryn and his tweed wearing bros burst through the door.

“Maybe you should spend a little more time developing this post-colonial theory you’ve got!” Morgan turned to the TA’s, smiling sweetly. “Gentlemen. Nice to see you back.”

The shyest of the bunch flinched back, still traumatized from the time Morgan had threatened him with bloody murder. But Jeryn, the newest recruit to the program, was unphased. “Good day to you too, my lady. No girlfriend today? I came back early just to see you two.”

Morgan bit back her retort. Whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be nearly as satisfying as what Gabriel was going to do.

Gabriel sat down with his eyes glued to the book, but his mind was busy wrapping around Professor Beck's words. I've only been dead nine months. What do you say to something like that? The Grief Counseling classes included in his major often discussed how to talk to the family members of the deceased, the proper way to offer your condolences while keeping the professional detachment needed to help them through the trying process of accepting a loss, and yet Gabe had no clue regarding the proper etiquette to adress someone who had died. Luckily the door opened and spared him the awkwardness of replying.

When the TAs entered Gabriel was reminded of his high school's football team, only with tweed instead of letter jackets. Any hint of guilt he might have had at the fact he was about to scare, maybe even traumatize a young man was dissipated the moment Jeryn opened his mouth. Gabriel didn't need to look at the professor to recognize the target.

“Wait, it's you!” Gabriel did his best to sound surprised and annoyed at the same time as he stood up and approached Jaryn. “I thought Linda was making stuff up, but man you are something! Linda Blair, you know her?” Jaryn blinked. “The name sounds familiar, but I can't quite pla-” Gabe interrupted him. “She's been auditing your classes and just won't shut up about you, says her fingers literally fell off from refreshing your Facebook page.” As he spoke, Gabriel pretended to dig through his pocket for something, and after a few moments he produced the fake snack. “When I told her I had an appointment with Professor Beck she basically begged me to give you this. Think she wrote her number on it or something. Apparently the way you treated her made her feel things she just can't ignore, and she just has to meet you... Women, am I right?” The wink he offered Jaryn made him feel dirty inside, but it was for a good cause.

Everything on Jaryn's face seemed to scream 'Is she hot?' and sensing his reluctance Gabriel retreated his hand and started to tear the wrapper, raising it to his mouth as if to take a bite. It took all his effort not to gag as putrescine and cadaverine (They were decomposing already? So cool) assaulted his nose, but somehow Gabriel managed to keep his poker face on as he said “Hey, don't worry, you don't have to accept! I mean, honestly I was thinking about asking her out myself, so I was kinda hoping you wouldn't be here, I can tell her I-” Jaryn basically ripped the 'candybar' away from Gabe. “No need, kid. It'd be rude to refuse a thoughtful gift from... What was her name again?”

“Look inside...”

The female voice echoed through the office, repeating the name over and over, punctuating it with the occasional forlorn sigh. Gabriel's eyes were closed as he channeled his energy into the magic. “What the...?!” Jaryn and the other TAs looked around, tense. The more their panic grew, the easier it was for him to add whistles and bells to the trick. “Look what you did to me...” Jaryn turned to stare at the Professor, confusion and nervousness painted all over his pale face. “What's the meaning of this, Profe-” The door slammed shut. Or rather, the door sounded like it had been slammed shut, though it was all part of the illusion.

“LOOK!”

When a ghastly, disembodied voice barks an order at you, you obey. Or at least that seemed to be Jaryn's thought process. He went above and beyond the call of duty and clumsily tore the wrapper, revealing the two fingers inside. Gabriel had to hide a smirk. The smell of decomposition assaulted everyone in the room, magically enhanced by Gabe's illusions, and the sticky dark ooze coming out from the fingers added a layer of realism to the image of copious amounts of blood running down from the severed extremity. Gabe's magic couldn't give it weight or make Jaryn's hands actually wet, but Professor Beck's impeccable prop did the work for him. Jaryn's face paled and his terror... Man, his terror was prime. Gabe even let out a satisfied hum, almost a cat-like purr as he absorbed their fear, sharp and vibrant and oh-so-filling. After a few long moments Jaryn dropped the fingers inside a sizable pool of fake, intangible blood that had collected at his feet. Almost as if that were the signal they were all waiting for, the TAs snapped out of their petrified terror and trampled each other in a clumsy race to the door, their screams echoing across the hallways as they ran from the office.

With a satisfied sigh, Gabriel picked up the fingers, rubbed his belly and turned to the Professor, finally breaking down into a laughter that took a while to die down. Normally he would never be so informal around a teacher, but man he always felt ready to take on the world after an all-you-can-eat buffet like that. “So... Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Morgan did her best to keep her face straight, even disinterested, as Gabriel summoned the disembodied voice of a young woman into the room. She opened her laptop, watching Jeryn’s reflection through the screen. When he called out to her she looked at him confused. “What?”

The voice cried for everyone in the room to look, and Morgan, her face still bland and innocent as before, did. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself steady. His scream, shrill, throaty, and desperate, must have echoed through the entire hall.

“Aw, guys! What happened?” She called. “Come back, are you okay?”

When she could only hear their footsteps thundering to the bathroom, Morgan finally let out all the laughter she’d been holding in, tipping in her seat and covering her mouth to stop from getting any louder. “Are you kidding me? Gabe! That was amazing! I mean, the way his eyes looked like they wanted to melt! He sounded like a little kid when he screamed too! I’d be surprised if one of them didn’t piss themselves! Oh, stars, I can’t wait to tell him he screamed over a plastic toy when he comes back. This is way better than anything I could’ve done on my own. Seriously, you were--” She shook her head, speechless, and offered her hand up for a high five.

“Hang onto those so you can grab dinner tonight, or dessert,” she said, pointing to the fingers. “They won’t be any good after tomorrow, and I’d rather them go to a good cause than Besides, I can trust a fellow supernatural to look after them, right?” She smiled fondly at Gabriel, already certain that she could. “And, in case it wasn’t clear, I’m really glad you showed up to my office. I think you’d also like my lit seminar, but I hope this isn’t the last time I see you either way.”

Gabriel shook his head vehemently. He wasn't going to take all the credit, he was raised better than that. “Listen, you're the only reason it worked so well, it had weight! Lots of people can take the sight of horrible stuff because, well... TV, I think. But the feel of holding a severed piece of a human bo--teacher?! CSI can't prepare you for that.” Gabe nodded solemnly at his own words, as if he was the teacher and she the student. And then he finally realized her position. Was that a... Holy crap, it was. An actual high five! From a professor! It was almost surreal, but he'd promised to himself long ago he'd never leave anyone hanging. The high-five echoed through the office, to his ears even louder than his own illusions, and his huge grin threatened to split his face in half.

“I'm glad I showed up, too! Though now I better go, I kinda don't want them to come back and find me still here...” Truth be told, part of Gabriel was dying to just stay and ask her all sort of questions about herself, but he still wasn't sure he could trust himself not to put his foot in his mouth and ruin what felt like the luckiest meal of his life. “Oh, and by all means, mail me the deets on the seminar because I am so there...” It was only then that he realized, once more, that this was not one of his peers, this was a teacher, he shouldn't be so casual with her. Yet something about her demeanor had managed to put him at ease from the first moment, to the point where it was hard not to file the Professor under the Potential Friends category in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, that's exactly where she belonged.

#two fingers of death #wr gabriel #wr chatzy #wr gabriel chatzy #wickedswriting

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sanderssides-springfling · 4 years

Text

The Frogman

For @space-mothman

Synopsis- Analogical cryptid-hunting AU in which they search for the mysterious Frogman for a college documentary project.

Warning- Swearing + Minor wound

Note- Hiya!! I’ve had a lot of fun working with the wishes you asked for and I’m super excited to see what you think of it! I hope you’re doing well :D

Virgil held up the two near-identical hoodies in front of the mirror, deciding which to wear when a familiar head poked through the doorway.

“Ooh, are you getting ready for your little date?”

Virgil walked over to kick him out when Janus joined in.

“Leave our darling little brother alone Remus, his boyfriend will be here soon. We have to find the baby pictures before he arrives.”

“He’s not my boyfriend! The teacher paired us up. I had no say in it.” Virgil said as he tried and failed to push the pair out. “And if either of you shows him any embarrassing pictures of me, you’re both dead.”

“Wow, how scary,” mocked Remus as Janus mimed a face of fear. He then added, “If I were you I’d go for the one on the left, it makes you look less…intimidating and murdery.”

Virgil swatted at him with the hoodie before putting it on reluctantly, huffing about how he was planning to choose it anyway because it was ‘warmer’.

Just then the doorbell rang. Virgil’s eyes opened wide as he ran down the stairs to get to the door first but he was no match for Remus. He shoved Virgil out of the way and opened the door wide.

“You must be Logan. We’ve heard so much about you. Why don’t you come in?” He invited with a wild grin on his face.

Virgil stared daggers at Remus as Logan walked in, politely telling Remus he has a lovely home. He was wearing a jean jacket over an unbuttoned plaid shirt and a graphic t-shirt depicting Mothman. His soft-looking hair fell over the rim of his glasses, the eyes behind them taking in his new surroundings.

Before Virgil could tell Logan they should leave, Janus began his, rehearsed, warnings. “You better take good care of my brother, young man. I’m expecting you to bring him home with at least three remaining limbs and having gone through a maximum of one demon possession, preferably none, or else there will be hell to pay. I’m also expecting you to keep criminal activity to a minimum along with the use of venomous vipers, they’re nasty creatures.”

To Virgil’s surprise, Logan had taken out a notepad and started to make notes, taking his speech seriously. Janus clearly wasn’t expecting this either as his expression softened towards Logan. “It’s obvious you’ll take good care of him. I’ll let you two go because I’m sure you have plenty of ‘work’ to do.” He winked at Virgil. “Just be careful.”

“But-”

“The baby photos and home videos can wait for their second date Rem, let’s give Virge a chance to embarrass himself without our help first.”

Virgil glared at his brothers as he dragged Logan outside, only mildly thankful Janus let him off that easy. What had he done to deserve being stuck with those two morons?

“Have fun!” Remus called out as the door slammed closed.

“Come on, I parked down the road. It’s not far.” Logan set off walking away, Virgil joining him a moment later.

“I’m super sorry about them,” Virgil said. “Ignore everything they said, they’re not worth wasting energy on.”

“It’s quite alright Virgil, it’s clear they care for you. I have always admired the dynamic between siblings.”

“You’re an only child? Lucky.” He thought back to how embarrassing his brothers were. They took every opportunity available to tease Virgil, regardless of whether they were alone or with any of his few friends. In moments like that, it was hard to remember why he loved them. He reminded himself, trying to calm down.

On his worst nights, Remus would tell him a gruesome ‘bedtime story’ while Deceit badgered him to add a happy end. They would also take him to concerts of bands he liked and try to fit into the scene even though they hated the music and fashion. Seeing Janus in a My Chemical Romance shirt trying not to curse after jabbing himself in the eye with Virgil’s eyeliner was still one of his fondest memories.

“Although,” Virgil added, “It does have its advantages.”

Logan stopped in front of an old pickup truck. Despite the carefully polished hubcaps and fresh paint job, it had visibly been through a lot.

“Here we are, our ride for the evening.” Logan took hold of the passenger door handle. “The door can be a little tricky sometimes.” He rattled the handle, banging at a spot a few inches below it. The door sprang open. “Like to most things, there’s a trick.”

He pulled the door open fully, holding it for Virgil as he clambered up. “Uh…thanks.”

Logan proceeded to join him from the driver’s side. “It may not look it but it’s a strong and reliable vehicle, I spent all last summer fixing it up.” He said proudly.

“No, no, it’s nice!” Virgil reassured him. “Does it have a name?”

“Why would my truck have a name?” Logan asked, appearing puzzled. He put his key in the ignition. The vehicle whirred to life.

“Nevermind. Are you excited to film our project?”

“Incredibly so! When Mr Picani said we had to make a documentary on any subject I got super excited about the idea of cryptid hunting! Thank you for going along with it!”

“Whatever gets me to pass the class dude. Plus this seems like a better way to spend time than filming ladybugs walking on leaves and doing some boring commentary.” What Virgil didn’t add was that after seeing the excitement of Logan’s face when he proposed the idea, Virgil couldn’t find it in his heart to say no.

He shuffled in his seat. “I’m also really happy I got partnered with you. I know we haven’t talked much but you seem a lot easier to get along with than the other people in our class.” Virgil smiled in Logan’s direction and despite the dim lighting, he could have sworn he saw Logan blush.

“Oh, thank you, Virgil. You too have ‘good vibes’ if I’m using the term correctly.” Virgil grinned, telling Logan he did.

“How about some music?” Logan asked before turning on the radio. Pop music crackled out of it, gently playing for the rest of their journey.

~~~~

A cold wind blew through the dense, gloomy woods. In the clearing before it, stood a teenager speaking to a camera, visible in the dying light of the sun.

“There are many legends about the Sanders Wilds, however, most revolve around the same being. A creature said to lurk in the depths of these woods, waiting for unsuspecting victims.

He has been described as a slimy beast with incredible jumping abilities, his hind muscular legs able to propel him forward metres at a time. He most often appears by the many bodies of water found in this forest.

Although no-one has ever disappeared in the woods, most locals swear they’ve met one of the unfortunate souls chased by the being whose very existence is in question.

He goes by many names. The Shadow, the Beast of the Sanders Wilds and recently he’s been referred to as ‘Scary Todd’ by a youngster from a neighbouring Elementary school.”

Virgil raised his eyebrows from behind the camera when he heard ‘youngster’ but Logan brushed it off and continued.

“The most common name of the cryptid we will be investigating today, inspired by its many characteristics, is” Logan stopped for dramatic effect. “The Frogman.“

“That’s quite the speech you prepared there” Virgil called out as he put down the video camera and rubbed his forearm. His arms had begun to stiffen during Logan’s monologue

“Are you ready to go in?” Logan asked.

Virgil froze. There was only one problem, something he hadn’t told Logan- He was scared.

Virgil knew that technically there wasn’t anything to be scared of. The frogman was nothing more than an urban legend, mere shadows and reflections mistaken for something, however, it was the what if’s that plagued Virgil’s mind. What if the frogman was real? What if he appeared? Worst of all… what if he caught them? Virgil wasn’t sure if he was willing to risk his life to pass a college class he didn’t even like that much.

“Virgil?” Logan looked concerned. “Are you alright?”

Great, Virgil scolded himself. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to tell Logan in the first place. More than anything he didn’t want Logan to think he was a nervous wreck, scared of a fake monster. Now he’d have to tell his handsome partner he was a chicken and he would totally think less of Virgil. Oh why does Logan have to be so handsome, Virgil thought to himself as he looked towards his cryptid hunting companion.

He was tall, with a sturdy frame that was perfect for giving supportive hugs and his hair was unruly in all the right ways, looking good for running your fingers through. It was very difficult to focus on anything else, Virgil had to admit. Good looking people never failed to make things more difficult.

“I- I’m just… a little scared.” Virgil mumbled reluctantly. “As controversial as it is, I’m not too keen on the whole getting captured by a forest monster thing.”

“Oh.” Logan looked disappointed. “Don’t worry about it, it’s not too late to change the project. I can drive us to the library and we can get started in something different. All that matters is that you feel comfortable.”

Virgil felt touched. Logan was willing to give up something he wanted to do for his well being? It wasn’t often that happened. That’s why he was determined to go in anyway. “No way. We’re going in there and finding that frogman. Just… promise to protect me from any monsters?” Virgil managed a smile as he held out his pinky, holding the camcorder in his other hand.

“Pinky promise,” Logan answered solemnly, hooking his finger around Virgil’s. Then, he smiled wide. “Now, let’s go say hi to The Beast. And…” He paused apprehensively as if he was trying to pick out the right words. “If you’re alright carrying the camcorder with one hand, maybe I could hold your hand? So you feel safe?”

Virgil laughed, slipping his hand into Logan’s. It felt warm compared to the cool evening. “As long as you’re okay with shaky footage.” He joked.

Logan led them into the forest, pulling out a flashlight from his pocket while Virgil switched the camera back on. There was an eerie quiet only broken by the crackling of leaves and snapping of branches under their feet.

“Hey, Logan, you know you can talk, right? We can edit everything out of the footage later.” There was still no response.

Virgil glanced towards Logan, seeing him staring intensely at a spot in the direction they were walking. “Make sure you get this.” He murmured before rushing up, tugging Virgil with him. He crouched down next to an animal print in the muddy ground. Virgil let go of his hand so he could step back and get a better angle.

“This right here is an animal footprint however it belongs to no regular being. While it seems to belong to an amphibian creature as is indicated by the pattern and the indentation from webbing, it is bigger than any regular amphibians could produce.” Logan splayed his hand above the mark to demonstrate. They were around the same size. “This must be the footprint of the Frogman.”

Yay, Virgil thought to himself. Evidence of a creature that might kill them. How wonderful.

He walked to Logan and helped him up, keeping hold of Logan’s hand afterwards because there was no way he was going to risk getting separated from him now. He also enjoyed the feeling of Logan’s hand in his, it made him a feeling of joy that he couldn’t quite place.

They continued when there was a sudden rustling a few metres in front of them. Instinctively Virgil squeezed Logan’s hand harder, holding onto him for safety. They both froze. Logan’s torch turned to the source of the sound, a bush. A moment later a squirrel scampered out of the said bush, disappearing into the darkness as quickly as it appeared. Both Logan and Virgil sighed in relief.

“That sure was one terrifying squirrel,” Virgil said as they continued to walk deeper into the woods.

Virgil attempted to strike up small talk again, not wanting things to become awkward. “I like your Mothman shirt.”

“Oh, thank you, Virgil.” Logan beamed, the way he only did when he was speaking about something he was passionate about. “I had a really big cryptid phase as a child, so big my parents decided to take us to Point Pleasant for the summer break one year. That’s the hometown of Mothman, they have a statue of him and everything. It was incredible. That’s when I got the shirt! It’s been a good luck charm. Not that I believe in luck but it never hurts something else on your side”

“You got it as a kid and it still fits? You must’ve been a tall kid.”

“It was the middle of their tourist season so they were sold out of all the youth sizes. According to my mother, it made a very fashionable dress.”

Virgil held back giggles as the thought of a smaller Logan wearing that shirt going down to his knees with a pair of fashionable red heels crossed his mind. For whatever reason, if Logan were to wear a dress, Virgil believed he’d wear it with stunning red heels. He seemed the type.

“Did you spot The Mothman?” he asked, only half kidding.

“Unfortunately not, although it was probably for the best as I was going to ask him for an autograph. I doubt that would have gone down well with Him.“

The idea of a smaller Logan wearing an oversized Mothman merchandise shirt going down to his knees and a pair of fashionable red heels walking up to the Lord of the Shadows himself, at least double his height, and asking him to sign his autograph book was so funny to Virgil that he stopped in his tracks wheezing, his eyes brimming with tears.

Seeing Logan’s bewildered expression, he tried to calm himself. After a few moments catching his breath trying to keep a straight he was able to regain his composure. “Sorry Lo, I’m fine now.”

“Can I ask-”

“No” Virgil interrupted him. “It’s really for the best you don’t.”

“Alright Virgil, I’ll trust you on this one.” He hummed a song Virgil wasn’t familiar with for a few moments. Then, he said, “I had an idea for while we’re either walking towards the Frogman or further into the depth of woods we might get lost in.” Virgil wasn’t sure if Logan was kidding and frankly he didn’t want to know.

“Yeah L, what is it?” Virgil’s mind started to race when he realized he had called Logan a nickname. While only a shortening of his name, it still seemed very personal and friendly. What if it bothers him? What if he thinks it’s weird?

“Well Vee,” Logan paused to see Virgil’s reaction, looking smug. Virgil stuck his tongue out at him. He wouldn’t admit it but his heart would flutter whenever he got that self-righteous expression on his face, seen often when he corrected the teacher or had got full marks on a test. It was cute. Very annoying, but cute.

“We could directly target your fear of the Frogman. You would have to trust me though.”

“I trust you,” Virgil answered with no hesitation. He squeezed Logan’s hand in his.

“Oh…um…” Logan appeared flustered. “This is going to seem scary but there’s a very low possibility of a negative outcome. Now…repeat after me.”

Logan took a deep breath before yelling “Fuck you Frogman!”

Virgil startled, not expected Logan to be so brazen. Yelling was a common occurrence for Logan however such vulgarities? Directed at a possibly supernatural creature who was reported as dangerous? He shook his head in disbelief.

Logan looked at him pointedly. “Oh no Logan, there is no way-” He stopped realizing there would be no convincing Logan. “Fine.” He grumbled.

“Frick you Frogman.” The words sounded uncertain.

“That was a good first attempt, Virgil. If you want to try again, you should really try to metaphorically shake off any inhibitions and really go for it. I did promise to protect you, the Frogman won’t hurt you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

They had come to a stop next to a running stream of water. Virgil slipped his camcorder into his hoodie pocket and let go of Logan’s hand, freeing both his arms. After running his fingers through his hair trying to build up enough confidence and jumping where he stood for a moment getting into an energetic mood, he felt ready. Or as ready as he could be.

Angling his head to the sky he screamed at the top of his lungs “Fuck you Frogman!”

He laughed in exhilaration, adrenaline running through his veins. Virgil felt invincible. “And fuck your Frogmother too!” He raised his hand for a high five.

“Yes!” Logan exclaimed. As he stepped towards Virgil, he must have been too excited to look where he walked because his foot caught on a tree branch.

Instinctively Virgil went to grab Logan’s hand to keep him up, however, Virgil started hurtling towards the creek as well, knocked off balance. He gasped as he hit the cold water, a moment later crashing into Logan.

The stream had been quite shallow, a foot deep at most. Virgil, quite luckily, didn’t experience the brute of the fall, having fallen on top of Logan. He rolled off and tried to stand. He would definitely have a couple nasty bruises later, he thought to himself.

“Hey Lo, are you okay?” Virgil looked for the torch that fell out of Logan’s hand during his fall. It wasn’t far and within seconds he was shining it directly at Logan’s face. Logan didn’t appreciate it.

“I’m fine, I assure you but please get that out of my face. The light is blinding.” Virgil muttered a few apologies while helping Logan to his feet. Overall, whilst cold and mildly pained, Logan appeared to be okay overall.

The two were both standing up in the middle of the creek. Although their feet were still submerged in the freezing cold water neither seemed to notice nor care. Instead, they were both looking directly at each other.

They inched closer and Logan began softly “Virgil, I’ve been meaning to tell you-” however he didn’t get to finish that sentence.

There was a raucous splashing sound from further upstream. Then there was another, this time louder. Whatever was making the noise was approaching.

Virgil shared a look of terror with Logan. He grabbed the camera and started recording as a shadowy figure started to form. Its form was unclear, however, it moved forward the way a frog might, leaping up and forward. Virgil was sure, it was The Frogman.

“What are you waiting for, Vee? Run.” Logan urged him to come however Virgil was frozen in fear. This was the end for him. He’d never see Janus and Remus again. He’d never tell Logan how he feels.

Logan snatched the torch from Virgil and took his now-free hand into his. Glancing back to the shadowy figure a final time, he muttered a few profanities, irked, then started to run, dragging Virgil with him. This was enough to snap Virgil out of his state, as he started running alongside Logan as fast as he could. The sound of the Frogman thudding behind them, hot on their trail, motivated them to keep going.

Virgil would never consider himself particularly athletic, which paired with the fact his legs were quite short created a challenge as he attempted to keep up with Logan, however, Adrenaline paired with the fact Logan wouldn’t have let him fall behind if he wanted to keep him as far from the Frogman as possible.

The journey out the forest was a blur. Virgil remembered stumbling however he got back up immediately. Logan shined the torch in front of them so they didn’t run into any trees. As a few minutes passed the sound of the Frogman following them faded away but neither would risk stopping. They continued forward and by some miracle, they had returned to the clearing where they had started, Logan’s pickup truck only a few yards away.

Logan slowed down to a stop outside it. “It’s alright, he won’t follow us out here.”

“That’s… really… great… Lo.” Virgil panted. He could feel his heart pounding in his head as he breathed so heavily he thought he might cough his lungs out. “How…are you…back to normal…so fast?”

“Oh, I did track in high school. Now you stay there while I get something.”

Virgil leaned against the truck as Logan rummaged around in his glove compartment. He pulled out an emergency foil blanket. He wrapped it over Virgil’s shoulders. “I only have one so you better keep that on. That water was freezing and I don’t want you getting hypothermic. You’re still soaking wet after all. Are you injured anywhere?”

Unsure, Virgil checked. Sure enough, he had a cut on his shin. Damn, it must’ve happened when I tripped, he thought to himself. Only as the energy from the run wore off, he started to feel it sting.

“Is it okay if I clean that cut for you? I have a first aid kit in the truck’s cargo bed.”

“Thanks, dude, I would really appreciate that. You better get under this blanket right after though, you’re not allowed to get hypothermic either.”

Logan smiled then pulled out a first aid kit from the back of the truck. “You can have a seat on the grass.” Once Virgil did, Logan joined him. “How are you feeling?”

“Still in shock and denial. It’ll probably only sink in later tonight that we got chased by the actual Frogman. How about you?”

“Honestly…I feel incredible. We saw the Frogman! The Frogman is real” Logan grinned. “Also, this might hurt a bit” he warned Virgil as he disinfected the cut. He was right. Virgil’s eyes pricked with tears.

“It’s a good thing my jeans were already so ripped, that way people won’t even question this one.” he joked.

“Did your camera survive that? I hope it’s not water damaged.”

“Nah don’t worry, it’s been through a lot. A little fall and water aren’t going to be the thing to break it.” He inspected the camera. “Unfortunately…I can’t say the same for the footage. The memory card looks completely fried.”

Logan’s smile fell. “That’s a shame, although maybe it’s for the best. The Frogman can continue living his best life in the forest with no scientists looking for him since there’s still no evidence.”

“Really?” Virgil asked incredulously. “You. The smartest person I know. Is against scientists?”

“Well… I’m not against scientists but having watched E.T. as a kid, I wouldn’t trust them with any rare or unusual beings.” He put a plaster on the cleaned injury then looked at his handiwork proudly.

Virgil was bemused by this. “You do know that’s a fictional movie, right?” After Logan did not answer he decided it was best to change tact.

“C’mon, join me under this blanket so you can warm up before we drive away. I’m thinking we go to mine? I can make us some hot chocolate and we can decide what to do with the assignment. I can also lend you some dry clothes if you don’t mind being dressed Emo.”

Logan moved so he was sat next to Virgil, their shoulders touching as the blanket covered them. “Sounds great Vee.”

“It’s a shame we wasted the evening though.” Virgil moped, but then Logan turned to face him. Their faces were mere inches away.

“Actually, I wouldn’t call it a wasted evening. I had a lot of fun spending the evening with you. “

Virgil was more taken aback by that than he was by him cursing at the Frogman. “I enjoyed spending the evening with you too. You’re really kind and surprisingly easy to talk to. I hope we could maybe spend some time together after this assignment is over if that’s something you’d like?”

Virgil felt the tips of his ears burning as his face flushed completely. He knew he was being obvious now but it seemed worth it. Putting himself out there didn’t seem as scary with Logan.

Logan spoke as gently as he had when they were standing in the creek together.

“About that. I wanted to tell you something before we were rudely interrupted earlier.”

“Mhm?” Virgil murmured, not trusting himself to say any proper words.

“I believe I have romantic feelings for you, Virgil. I highly enjoy speaking with you and when you’re around my heart begins to beat faster. If you were to feel the same way I would love to take you on a date perhaps? With fewer cryptids, I assure you. If not-”

“Me too,” Virgil said, in disbelief, cutting him off. He didn’t want to hear the ’If not’ because he liked Logan back. A lot. He took hold of Logan’s hand.

“If it’s okay with you Logan, can I kiss you?” He was surprised by his own confidence, but it felt right. Everything felt right.

Logan answered not with words but by closing the gap between the two of them. It was short and sweet. According to Virgil, it was perfect. Perhaps the evening wasn’t a waste after all.

#analogical #tw injury #tw cursing #cryptid!au #spring fling 2020 #submission

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mind-reader1 · 4 years

Text

I’m the Bad Guy (duh)

TRR AU: Emma has an accident the morning after her engagement to Drake in the safehouse that turns everyone’s world upside down. Nothing will be the same, no matter how hard Drake tries.

Catch up here!

Word count: 1821 words

Chapter 3: That Don’t Sound Like You

Drake prepared for the worst, he expected her to be covered in wires, a breathing tube and endless machines, blood everywhere. He was relieved when he found a few wires and no breathing tube, but it was hard to miss the large bruises covering her body, the black eyes and bandage covering her head. A ragged sob escaped his lips as he grasped for her hand, collapsing into a chair at her bedside.

“Drake.” It was barely a whisper, but he’d recognize the voice anywhere.

“Who? How? I need answers, Bastien! This isn’t how our life together was supposed to start!” Bastien couldn’t meet Drake’s gaze, he recognized the look on his father figure’s face, it was one of disappointment. Not in Drake, but in himself. The only other time he’d seen that look was when Bastien told them their father had died.

“I failed you again Drake, I failed Emma, I’m so sorry.” Drake could tell Bastien was fighting back tears. He knew that Bas did everything in his power, both times, he’d never failed the Walker family. He saved them, stepping in to be a father when Drake and Savannah needed him most. He wished that he could tell Bas, let him know how he felt, but he was at a loss of words at that moment. His mind was unable to stop drifting back to Emma lying in a hospital bed in front of him.

Drake sighed sympathetically, he needed to say something. “It’s okay Bastien, I just want to know what happened, who did this to her.”

“I saw her leave, I wanted to come check on you, so I followed her. I saw the car but it was too late, I couldn’t cut them off. I got to her as fast as I could. I’m sorry Drake.”

He didn’t say anything, he focused his attention back on Emma, trying to picture how happy she was the night before as they laid side by side on the couch, admiring the sparkle of her ring in the afterglow.

“Excuse me. Who are you?” The doctor walked in and Drake shot up, desperate for news. “This is a private room.”

“It’s fine Doctor. This is Lady Barnes’ fiancé.” Liam’s voice was strained as he slipped into the room.

“Spit it out!” Drake snapped, he needed to know what he was dealing with, his mind going back to worst case scenarios.

“Her scans show that she has a traumatic brain injury to her frontal lobe. That being said, brain activity is normal, she’s sedated right now for the pain but she should wake up on her own in just a few hours.”

“What does that mean then? Traumatic brain injury? What’s going to happen?”

“It’s hard to say before she wakes up. It could be nothing, I don’t want to speculate. I’ll check in soon.”

Drake took a threatening step towards the doctor, he wanted more answers, but Bastien shot him a warning look. Focus on Emma, the doctor didn’t sound concerned, he said it could be nothing, he recited over and over in his head. Could be nothing. Could be nothing.

The next few hours felt like an eternity. Drake refused to move from Emma’s side, frozen as if he was a statue. Liam paced back and forth.

“Just stop it Liam! You’re making it worse!” He snapped.

“Making what worse? Nothing’s changed Drake! I need to do something to calm my nerves!”

“You’re making my nerves worse! Go pace outside!”

“Drake?” A hoarse voice calls. He opens his eyes, blinking to adjust to the lights. When had he fallen asleep? When the events of the day come back to him, he immediately jumps out of the hospital chair and looks at Emma, only to find her staring back at him.

“Emma!” He rejoices, relieved to see her awake.

She winces, croaking, ”keep it down.”

“Right. Sorry.”

She looks around the room, taking in the wires attached to her and frowning. When she looks up at him, she asks, ”Where’s Liam?”

Not having expected that question, he stutters. “He’s, uh, he’s outside. I kicked him out for pacing too much,” he says lightly.

Her frown deepens and she says, “you didn’t have the right to do that.”

For a moment, he’s so shell shocked by her words that he simply stares at her. Then, figuring it’s a joke, he lets out a laugh only to have her stare at him in confusion.

Suddenly, one of the machines connected to her beeps and he curses. “The doctor! Let me go get him. He asked to let him know as soon as you wake up.”

He runs out of the room, finding the doctor in a deep conversation with Liam. “Doctor! She’s - Emma’s awake!”

Liam’s eyes widen whereas the doctor simply nods and all of them head back to the room. Drake and Liam stand back as the doctor approaches Emma. He gently asks her, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. My head really hurts though,” she says, one hand massaging her temples.

“Okay. Let me just run some preliminary tests. You’ll have to sit up for this,” he informs and Emma does as told. The doctor takes out his torch from his pocket and turns it on, then points it at Emma’s eye, asking her to look in all directions before doing the same to her other eye.

“Looks good. Can you tell me who the King of Cordonia is?”

“Yeah, it’s Liam.” She states, sending Liam a smile so sweet that it shatters Drake’s heart.

“Alright, can you tell me who the President of the USA is?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah. I can also tell you that he shouldn’t be President,” she replies, her voice monotonous. The doctor looks mildly amused but Drake lets out a hearty laugh, beyond relieved that she still has her snark and sense of humour. It is, after all, one of the things he loves most about her.

The doctor turns to them with a smile. “Everything looks good. However, since she sustained a major head injury, she has to stay in the hospital overnight for observation. Nothing to worry about, it’s just standard protocol.”

Drake feels a wide smile stretch on his face and he takes a step towards the doctor, shaking his hand. “Thank you so much doctor. And, uh, I’m sorry about how rude I was before.”

The doctor laughs. “Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing that hasn’t happened before. Kind of comes with the whole territory.”

Giving them a kind smile, he departs, but not before saying, “If you need me for anything, just press the red buzzer over there. The nurses will call me and I’ll be here.”

After the doctor leaves, Drake takes a seat on the bed next to Emma and Liam sits on a chair next to the bed. Drake stares at her, his heart feeling so full.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he mutters.

“Really, Emma. We were so worried about you.” Liam adds.

“Worrying about me won’t exactly make me all better. If you’re actually so worried about me, maybe you should make sure those assholes with an agenda against you don’t try to run me over, again,” Emma says, looking Liam right in the eye.

Drake is shocked by her words. It doesn’t seem like the Emma he knows so well, to blame Liam for something that’s not in his hands, but he figures, it’s probably just anger from having been involved in an accident the very same day. It’ll fade, he tells himself.

“I’m so, so sorry Emma. I cannot express how much I regret that you have gotten stuck in this position because of the crown,” says Liam earnestly.

Emma sighs. “Whatever. What’s done is done, I guess. But I swear, when I’m Queen, I’m going to smite those people and make them regret the day they were born.”

It seems like the world stops for a moment. When she’s queen? Drake looks at Liam, whose eyes are the size of saucers. His expression is otherwise indecipherable.

“Emma, you’re not going to be queen,” he says softly.

“Why not?” She demands.

Unable to keep quiet anymore, Drake almost screams, “Because we’re engaged!”

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it was definitely not the sound of Emma’s laughter.

“We are not engaged,” she assures Liam.

“It’s okay, Barnes, he already knows. You don’t need to hide it from him.”

“There’s nothing to hide.” She counters frustrated.

Liam looks between the both of them unsurely, seeming at a loss for words. Drake, on the other hand, gets more desperate by the moment.

“Yes there is, Emma! Try to think.Try to remember. I proposed to you last night and you said -“

“Oh, trust me,” she interrupts, “I remember what I said. But what else could I have done? Said, ‘thank you for getting shot for me, but no thanks, I’m not interested in marrying you?’ ”

Not interested in marrying you. Not interested in marrying him. She’s not interested in marrying him.

Drake feels grateful that he’s sitting down, because the world seems to spin around him. Had he been standing, he fears, he would’ve fallen onto his knees.

“Emma,” Liam steps in. ”I’m certain you don’t mean that. You told me -“ he swallows hard, “you told me that you’re in love with Drake when I proposed to you.”

“Yeah, I made a mistake!” Emma sits up, flailing her arms as she gets more and more worked up. “So sue me! I’m Emma Barnes - I’m meant to be Queen. You agree, don’t you, Liam?”

If Drake’s not mistaken, he sees hope warring with confusion on Liam’s face. “But you’re engaged to -“

Emma groans, taking the ring Drake gave her off of her finger and placing it in the palm of Drake, who had been staring dumbfounded at Emma.

“There! I’m no longer wearing that tacky excuse of a ring. Do you believe me now?”

Drake stands up abruptly, rushing out of the room to the nearest washroom. Mercifully, it’s empty. He goes to the nearest stall and sits on the floor, putting his head in the toilet as he promptly throws up.

Since he is Drake Walker and his misfortune is unending, when he’s finished, he sees Liam standing right behind him.

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, just peachy.” Drake comments. “Shouldn’t you be with Barnes?”

“She’s asleep. Drake, I really am sorry.”

Realizing how unfair he’s being to his best friend, Drake heaves a sigh. “It’s not your fault, Liam. I’m just so lost on what’s happening right now. Why is she acting this way?”

“I have the same questions as you. I suggest we go speak to the doctor.”

Drake nods. Count on Liam to be calm and sensible in even the worst of situations.

Liam offers his hand to Drake, and he takes it with a small smile, standing up.

Tag list: Drake tag list: @notoriouscs @speedyoperarascalparty @andy-loves-corgis @furiousherringoperatortoad @sue9659 @smritysriv @mrsdrakewalkerblog @carabeth @jovialyouthmusic @mrswalkernazario @moonlightgem7 @nikkis1983 @gibbles82 @simsvetements @feartheendlesssummer @drakewalkerisreal @thequeenofcronuts @cgd03 @roonarific

This fic: @marshmallowsandfire @twinkle-320 @ravenpuff02

#drake walker #drake x mc #the royal romance #choices the royal romance #choices #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices fandom #itbgd

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youtuberswithalex · 4 years

Text

Dammit I just spent like an hour writing a ficlet that I just realized didn’t fit the prompt. So I guess tonight’s is just gonna be,,, without an ask jdksljf.

Also it’s,,, way longer than I’d planned for it to be. So it’s probably gonna be posted after midnight too jfkdsljf)

---

Knights were supposed to be the epitome of perfect, and Roman knew that.

They always had to be on guard, always had to be ready to jump to the defense of the innocent. They were supposed to be cool, and suave, and strong, and--

Well. Everything that Roman didn’t feel like, ever since he woke up this morning.

He’d been pulled out of his slumber by his own set of rib-wracking coughs and sneezes, quickly followed by chills, and a headache, and a dreadful weakness settling deep into his very bones. There had been nothing more that he wanted to do than curl back up in his thin blankets and go back to sleep, but he couldn’t. No, he could never disappoint his prince by not showing up to work.

Scratch that-- he could never disappoint his best friend by not showing up to work.

It was true that he and Prince Virgil had an... interesting relationship, so to speak. They hadn’t come into contact in the typical way; instead of Roman approaching and begging for employment, like anyone else in the kingdom, it had been Virgil to approach him... for art lessons. Without telling him that he was royalty. And then he’d followed him when Roman set out alone on a quest to defeat a dragon that had been terrorizing their kingdom. During which Virgil accidentally revealed his status. To which Roman ran away from and told him to go home. Which Virgil ignored. And in turn ended up saving Roman’s life. And when they’d finally returned home, Virgil demanded to have Roman become a member of the royal staff, on account of his loyalty, nobility, and bravery.

So... yeah. Not exactly typical. And not a history one could just brush aside.

Roman had to go into work today, no matter how terrible he felt.

Begrudgingly, he rolled out of bed and began to ready himself for the day.

As soon as he walked through the palace doors and into the throne room, Virgil was on his feet and rushing over to him, his brow furrowed deep.

“Whoa, Roman, you don’t look so good,” he stated. “You feeling alright?”

Roman swallowed down a cough and nodded, plastering a smile on his face. “Of course,” he replied, praying that Virgil wouldn’t notice that his voice was akin to sandpaper. “I merely got a poor night’s sleep last night. Nothing to worry over, I assure you.”

“A poor night’s sleep got you sounding like that?”

A curse ran through Roman’s head. “The, uh... The air was very dry in my house.”

Virgil shot him a skeptical look, but sighed and shook his head a moment later. “Alright... If you say so.”

“I do,” Roman said. “Shall we head to the fields? The weather today is lovely for some sparring.”

“I’d rather we go to the library.” Virgil’s tone left no room for arguing.

Roman nodded, only mildly regretting it after the room started to spin. “As... As you wish.”

Virgil took him by the bicep and carefully led him into the hall.

“Roman, honey!”

“Oh, dear, you look awful.”

Roman scowled at Patton and Logan respectively as Virgil dragged him into the library. “I assure you, I’m fine.”

“You most certainly do not appear to be,” Logan said.

“Well, I am!”

Virgil rolled his eyes, hopping up onto the front counter as soon as they were near. “Apparently, it’s from a poor night’s sleep.”

Patton stifled a giggle. “But Roman, you work for the king! You’re not poor!”

Three glares shot his way. His grin didn’t falter.

“I regret allowing you in here every day of my life,” Logan huffed.

“No, you don’t.”

He turned back to Roman, fighting a smile off of his face. “In all seriousness, though, you do not look well. I would advise you take a seat before you faint.”

Roman scoffed. “I’m fine, Lazy Librarian. I’m a knight.” He snapped into a pose. “I can’t be anything but perfect!”

“Logan’s right, kiddo,” Patton said, a frown starting to form. “Your cheeks are awfully red...”

“I was in the sun.”

“You’re swaying,” Logan added.

“I’m dancing to the music of my mind.”

“You sound like you ate a bowl of broken glass for breakfast,” Virgil stated.

“I already told you, the air in my house was dry!”

Clicking out a tsk, Patton reached across the counter and pressed the back of his hand against Roman’s cheek. “Sweetie, you’re warm. Maybe you should just go home.”

Roman jumped back-- a little too fast. As he opened his mouth to respond, a surge of pain and wooziness rushed over him, and he found his knees buckling. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact, but a frantic hand grabbed his shirt just before he crashed.

“Roman, you idiot!”

Slowly, he was lowered to the ground; he opened his eyes to see his prince glaring down at him. His shadow blocked the light coming from above, and Roman couldn’t be more grateful.

“You’re always doing this!” he yelled. “Always being a goddamn moron and putting yourself in danger for the good of other people when you don’t need to! I thought the dragon and that damn slime dog was the worst it would get, but it turns out you’re always like this!”

“Virgil--”

“When are you gonna stop and think about asking before doing something like this?! What’s it gonna take for you to ask for some fucking help once in a while?! We want you to be okay, Roman!”

“Virgil, stop--”

“No! He needs to hear this shit!”

“Not right now, he doesn’t,” Logan firmly said, hopping over the counter and putting a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “You can yell at him all you want when he’s healthier. Right now, all you’re doing is putting him in more distress.”

A cool hand on his face pulled Roman’s attention away from the chiding, and onto Patton and his creased forehead. “Can you hear me, kiddo?”

Roman nodded. “Of course I--”

Patton shushed him, running a hand through his hair. “You need to rest your voice. Virgil is right, honey; you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. You’ve always got us worried.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Just, please, let us help you?”

It took a moment of hesitation, but Roman found himself nodding. The crease in Patton’s forehead relaxed as he smiled.

“Thank you, Roman.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before looking over to where the other two were still arguing. “Logan?”

He whirled around. “Yes?”

“Could you run to the infirmary and get a cool cloth, and maybe a thermometer?”

“Of course.”

As he walked away, pace brisker than usual, Virgil crossed his arms and approached Roman and Patton. “We can bring him to my room for now,” he said. “I’m sure it’s comfier than whatever wood block you sleep on.”

“It’s--”

Roman broke into a coughing fit before he could finish his sentence; Patton and Virgil helped him to his feet as he hacked. Once he’d recovered, they slung his arms over their shoulders and slowly made their way to the door.

Roman certainly didn’t feel up to par with being a knight right now. But maybe... Maybe that was okay.

#may i write you a ficlet #fantasy au #how did i write this much good lord #i might end up posting this on ao3 #alex writes #this is barely even a ficlet

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forgotten-daydreamer · 4 years

Text

"The Last Airbender" honest commentary by me

-> I remember I watched this once, when I was something like 12, and I think my mind FORCED me to forget about it, and now that I'm 20 I feel the urge to watch it again. I saw clips on YouTube so it's not like I know nothing at all, but very very little. I'm honestly scared. I'll point out the things that I like too, if I find something like it. So... bring it on.

---

What is that gibberish in the background even supposed to mean? As someone who studies Japanese I am deeply disappointed. "But A:TLA's words are in Chinese!!" yes. But, for those who don't know, Japanese imported them as kanji so I can recognize them even if I don't speak Chinese, for these characters are written in the same way, even if pronounced differently. Or, well, I could recognize them if this gibberish meant anything. But it doesn't.

Not a fan of the prologue written onscreen as Katara reads it aloud (I suppose it's her?) to be honest. Especially when it's in... English. At this point why not changing that ugly gibberish into the English translation of the words? It would've made more sense, even if it doesn't.

Katara and Sokka sure are very... huh... White. Watching the racism and whitewashing jump out is too painful. Damn, I'm already upset with this movie and I'm only 2:35 minutes in.

A:TLA Sokka would never raise a finger on his sister- never in a million years. This dude straight up grabbed her arm! Not. Cool. Dude.

"I thought about Mom, isn't that strange..?" no Katara, it really isn't. She's your dead mother, it's not strange to think about her. That sentence just seems forced, it's got nothing to do with what's happening.

Okay, Sokka following his father's teachings is actually accurate, nice one.

I take it back. Sokka, what the actual fuck- why would you break the ice right under your feet?? A:TLA Hakoda would be very disappointed.

Oh, look, Aang's white too. How surprising.

Katara, the kid just woke up from a coma, stop asking him a thousand questions, cut Aang some slack!

Acting skills sooo not on point. Maybe the actors are actually good, and maybe it's just the dialogues that are... off. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and see how it goes.

I apprecciate the effort of trying to make Aang's tattoos look "cool" but next time, please don't.

This camera work is giving me a headache. The angles keep changing rapidly with no reason, and sometimes the camera's too close to the actors... Who did this?

Are Katara and Sokka the only white people in their village? I'm... confused.

"I am Prince Zuko." uh???? Where's your scar? Come on, that is literally one of the main points around which his story revolves, you can't just not put it there. I'm so upset.

Oh... that's the scar? Dude, I have a worse scar on my knee, I'm not even joking.

Of course Katara and Sokka's grandma is white, makes sense. So there's three white people in this village while everyone else is Asian, from what I saw. So it's okay to cast Asians as extras but not as the main characters? Holy shit, this movie is so problematic already.

Zuko, for fuck's sake, stop yelling. Aang's right in front of you, you two are, like, three inches apart. Stop screaming!

Firebenders need firepits to draw fire from..? Just bring a flamethrower with you next time, it'd be more efficient than your attacks anyway...

I'm not even 11min in and I want to stop already. I can't endure another 1:30h of this. I'm not strong enough.

"[Our mom] would have fought!" she didn't, that's the whole point. She surrendered to protect you, Katara, and the others. I get that the producers changed the story a little, it's normal, but- you can't change these things.

These dialogues... I want to rip my ears off. So little logic, so little pathos, such a poor timing- I want to cry.

Okay, this Iroh seems pretty similar to A:TLA's, thank goodness they didn't mess him up too much.

That is NOT how you pronounce Iroh!! I was a fool to think that there was one character that hadn't been completely ruined in this movie.

Nice nod to Hama, not bad.

Grandma casually has a map next to her when she needs it... Okay, I guess.

The scene on the ship- I'm speechless. Negatively speechless. I want to wash my eyes with bleach.

I love how Zuko just watches Aang fly away, like- "oh, there he goes". A:TLA Zuko would've jumped into the freezing ocean and swam toward him if he had to.

I can't get over their pronunciation of Aang. Ahng? Ohng? What is the reason behind this- why did they change it? He's literally the main character, you just don't do that.

With all due respect, the CGI is bad. I get that this movie is kinda old, but... No. There are older movies with better special effects. Low budget, maybe? I don't know.

"Souuka and I-" it's Sokka. Not Souuka. Sokka.

Zhao is hateful and annoying, which is accurate. I miss the ugly sideburns though.

Iroh calmly sipping tea while Zuko kicks ass- spot on, I can't deny that.

I hate Sokka so much. He's completely out of character, too annoying, uncharacteristically angsty and so boring. How can someone completely mess up a cool character like him?

"There is earth right beneath your feet"... oh my God, for real? Wow, how did they not notice that sooner...

"It's time for you to stop doing this!" reminds me of that one vine with the kid that yells "whEn wiLL yOu LeArN tHAt yoUR aCTioNs hAve ConSeqUEnceS!?", I don't know why.

Katara pushes a Firebender. She pushes him. He could burn her to a crisp and she- okay, you know what, I'm just going to ignore it.

Again with the firepits, I can't even-

It takes six Earthbenders to lift the rock the size of a chair..? And they also have to make a little dance to do that..?

The extras in the background don't even move- guys, at least pretend to dodge or be afraid, or cower backwards, don't just observe while you stand still looking as if you were glancing at the horizon.

Literally everyone in this movie is portrayed by Asian and Middle Eastern actors except for the main characters... Who allowed this, who said that this was okay? Seriously, who. Please, fire this person.

If Aang can't bend the other elements, what was that on Zuko's ship? Were the fire, the rock and the water acting up because Aang was there? It makes no sense.

"Avatars can't have a family." are you sure? 'Cause Roku did, even Wan (and Korra, after Aang) in a way, and many other Avatars too, I'm sure. That's not why he ran away, not at all.

Again with the fake Chinese characters... I mean, I think they were trying to imitate Chinese cursive writing, but... The lines are so straight, so stiff, so clean- there is no way that authentic cursive looks like that. Have you ever seen Japanese cursive? The characters are unrecognizable, but the lines are fluid and curved, not like that.

The scene with Katara and Aang practicing by the river confuses me because- I don't see any water being bent. Is it just me? I'm serious, maybe I just didn't see it..?

Ozai asking about Zuko and acting mildly concerned and almost caring is off-character. It makes it look like he feels guilty, when A:TLA Ozai does not. Also, let's say that this Ozai feels guilty, why doesn't he just welcome his son back, then? But he doesn't, 'cause he indirectly says so, so it makes no sense.

More gibberish. Please, stop. Don't do that again. I beg you.

"-sentenced to Agni KEE." goddamn it. Agni KAI. Not KEE. KAI! Why is that so hard for these people to say things right?

I still don't see any Waterbending. Are they just moving randomly? Are the practicing without actually bending the water..?

Oh, alright, now there's water moving, that's better. Still, so many movements for a little stream of water being lifted in the air- almost like that dance the Earthbenders did earlier. Seems excessive.

Is that monstrosity supposed to be Appa? Why is his face so- human? Oh Spirits, forgive them!

Again with this "I can have no family." thing- did the producers even watch the whole show or just read the summary of Wikipedia?

You know what, the Blue Spirit mask is accurate, in a way. Old masks used to have wigs attached sometimes, so it's not as bad as it seems. His stance though- that's a big no.

Zuko's swords don't actually hit anything most of the times he swings them around- just saying.

"What is this?". Ugh, Zhao, Aang's an AIRbender. Get it? AIR. So he is moving the AIR. I mean, you know he's an airbender, why are you acting surprised that he can redirect the wind?

Yue's white too... I checked online, and I discovered that the actress has Mexican origins: this has nothing to do with Asia and the Middle East so I personally consider this as a desperate attempt to include diversity- as if there were no actual Asian and Middle Eastern actors out there, but fine, I guess. What was I expecting at this point? Oh, I also know that this actress is Asami's V.A. which doesn't change much but since I like Asami I'll pretend to like this Yue too, a bit.

Extra™ moves to create a 10ft tall tornado... Okay, Aang, you're the boss.

Pakku is white too, hm? I don't know what to say anymore. Should I just stop pointing out this cast is so, so wrong? Probably. Will I? No.

Sokka's face when Yue tells him her hair's white because she was stillborn- that is the only realistic face he's done so far. Also, Yue's acting is not that off, and I actually like it! She's better than others.

More waterbending without water. Budget cuts.

I take that back, Yue is basically smiling when Sokka tells her that the Fire Nation is there, like, come on! Yue, I believed in you...

The dialogues are so fake, nobody talks like that! I'm sure that this is among the reasons why the actors seem incapable of doing their job- I'm sorry for these people, maybe the poor performance is not entirely their fault.

I'm trying to figure out what's up with Zuko's hair, and I'm not talking about the fact that it doesn't grow where the scar is, that's normal. What bothers me are those spikes he has on the front and on the back- or whatever they are. I am confused. Better than ponytail!Zuko, worse than all the other haircuts he had in A:TLA.

Zuko's actor is the best one in this movie so far, in my opinion. He's believable. He yelled a lot in the beginning, but now (1:12h in) he's not that odd.

How to understand when a scene has been not thought through: when characters don't do something that normal people would do. Zuko throws fire at Aang when he tries to escape, and then he just stands less than ten feet apart as Aang hides- he watches him, he stands there like "okay, I can't attack you now because the script says I'm not supposed to". Then do not include him in the shot! Or, at least make him say something- no, he just stands there and watches as his enemy is literally three seconds away from him. He could reach him with a little leap, without even running!

They showed Azula for a split second in the Agni Kai scene and then Zuko mentioned her once. Is that all? I hope to see her more, even a little something. Not including her would be a huge waste.

I don't ever want to see Appa again. So ugly he's scary. Who is the person that created the CGI for our amazing flying bison that we fell in love with? This isn't Appa, it's... Something else, something terrible.

The scene where Yue passes out when Zhao kills the Spirit- the secondhand embarrassment is real there. I had to look away, it's so bad.

This Zhao is maybe the most out of character person in this movie, and it's hard to beat Aang and Sokka so that sure is something...

If they say "Souuka" one more time I'll cry. I'm serious. I'll do it.

Alright, alright, the scene where Aang saves the day is pretty cool, I liked it, despite the questionable CGI.

Why do Katara and Sokka keep Aang upright by gripping his upper arms so tightly? That hurts! There are different ways to do that, less painful and more efficient.

Ozai looks like he has no idea of what he's talking about, he looks like me when I read maths.

There she is, Azula!! Wait- are we seeing her again?

...okay, we're not.

---

What can I say... Disastrous. No cabbage man, literally only five seconds of Azula, everyone is out of character, bad casting, bad pronunciation, gibberish wannabe Chinese characters, odd CGI... Everything is wrong.

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eiressofinspirationwrites · 5 years

Text

Shying Away

Pairing: Crowley x Female Angel!Reader

Word Count: 1239

Requested: Yes

Description: A couple of incidents in which Crowley flirts and because of your chronic shyness and overall awkwardness you divert his advances.

********************

“Y/n, what are the odds that I’d run into you here?” Crowley asked as he leaned up against the bookshelf you were trying to restock.

“Oh, I’d say the odds are pretty good, Crowley,” you rolled your eyes at him, “This is Aziraphale’ bookshop and I just so happen to work here.”

“Good point,” Crowley said, “what do you say we get out of here?”

“What did you have in mind?” you asked without looking at him as you slid another book into place.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Crowley shrugged, “Maybe a romantic stroll through the park?”

The entire stack of books you held in your arms clattered to the ground and when you knelt down to regather them, Crowley leaned down to help.

“It seems you’ve got butter fingers, love,” Crowley chuckled as he picked a couple of the weathered tomes.

“S-sorry,” you stammered as a blush crept up your cheeks, “They just, uh, slipped.”

“Right,” Crowley smiled knowingly, “Here you are.”

“Th-thanks,” your hand shook slightly as you took the book back.

Crowley smirked when your hands brushed slightly and the slight blush tinging your cheeks deepened furiously.

“So, how about that walk in the park?” Crowley asked.

“I actually have to, um, do a different activity,” you said lamely.

“An activity?” Crowley’s eyebrows arched skeptically.

“Yeah, I’ve had it planned awhile,” you explained as you hastily placed the remaining books in their places, “and, oh, look at the time! I’m actually running late for that activity, so if you’ll excuse me!”

“Wait, angel-,” Crowley tried to get you to slow down but you cut him off.

“I’ll, um, talk to you later, Crowley,” you said before you popped out of existence on your way anywhere that wasn’t the bookshop.

“Crowley is that you?” Aziraphale called as he descended from the flat upstairs.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Crowley shook his head as he stared where you had been standing only moments before.

“Where’s Y/n?” Aziraphale frowned when he noticed your absence.

“Apparently she had an activity to do elsewhere,” Crowley replied.

“Oh lord,” Aziraphale sighed, “you did it again, didn’t you?”

“Did what?” Crowley asked innocently.

“You tried flirting with her,” Aziraphale said, “You know that she’s much to shy for that.”

“All I did was ask her to accompany me on a walk through the park,” Crowley defended himself.

“I highly doubt that you phrased it so lightly if she popped out of the shop so quickly,” Aziraphale said skeptically as he examined the shelf you had been working on, “She didn’t put these back in their proper places.”

“So?” Crowley asked, “What do a few books matter?”

“She would never store the books so carelessly,” Aziraphale explained as he removed the books and put them back in their proper places, “She’s the one who set up this filing system. She knows where every single book goes and would never leave a book out of place. Unless you had flustered her.”

“Okay, fine,” Crowley relented, “I may have asked her out for a romantic walk in the park.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale groaned, “You know better.”

“It’s not my fault that she is so shy,” Crowley argued.

“No, but after 6000 years you should know better,” Aziraphale chastised him, “She’s always been quite delicate.”

“And I love that about her,” Crowley admitted, “and Satan knows she’s such a perfectionist that it’s hard to get her to do anything that puts a toe out of line but I’ve been trying to be subtle for centuries and it’s gotten me nowhere. It’s now or never Aziraphale. The end of the world is less than 11 years away now.”

“Subtle?” Aziraphale scoffed, “Is that what you call the incident at the globe?”

“Well,” Crowley considered as he recalled that day, “maybe that time wasn’t so subtle.”

*flashback*

“Aziraphale,” you groaned as you watched the lone performer on the stage deliver his lines, “why are we here?”

“I thought you liked Shakespeare?” Aziraphale asked.

“I do but I much prefer his funny ones,” you replied as you struggled to ignore the travesty occurring on such a magnificent stage, “This is just… not good.”

“Oh, give it a chance,” Aziraphale pleaded.

“I’ve been trying,” you said petulantly, “but it’s so dull.”

“Maybe I can make things more interesting,” Crowley whispered in your ear.

“Crowley!” you yelped and stumbled away startled by his sudden appearance.

“Careful!” Crowley exclaimed when you tripped over your skirt.

He quickly caught you and when you looked up at him you blushed furiously, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, angel,” Crowley smiled as he guided you back into a fully upright position.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you struggled to hide how flustered you were.

“Heard you two were in the area,” Crowley shrugged, “Thought I would drop by but I hate to see such a pretty face so distraught.”

“I am some pretty face, Crowley,” you mumbled, “and I am not distraught.”

“Oh, it’s alright to admit it,” Crowley patted your cheek lightly, “Why don’t I liven things up a bit?”

You were so tongue-tied from Crowley’s actions that it was up to Aziraphale to protest when Crowley sauntered up to the stage and climbed up.

“Crowley, what do you think you’re doing?!” Aziraphale watched in horror as Crowley shooed the actor off the stage.

Before anyone could stop him, Crowley cleared his throat and began delivering a speech,

“O my angel, wherefore art thou an angel?

Deny thy mother and refuse thy name.

Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love

And I’ll no longer be a demon.

‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy:

Thou art thyself, though not an angel.

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;

So Angel would, were she not an angel call’d,

Retain that dear perfection which she owes

Without that title. Angel, doff thy name,

And for that name, which is no part of thee,

Take all myself.”

Once he was done, Crowley hopped off the stage and sauntered confidently back over to you, where you were trying to hide behind Aziraphale.

“How was that, angel?” Crowley asked grinning broadly, “I know it hardly followed all the rules but I was inspired by your beauty.”

“I-I’ve got to go,” you squeaked before you vanished into thin air.

“Well done, Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed dramatically, “You’ve gone and embarrassed the poor girl.”

“Where do you think she went?” Crowley asked, mildly disappointed by your reaction.

“Oh, if I know her she probably popped away to our living quarters,” Aziraphale considered, “She’ll need to calm down and process being put on the spot like that.”

“Where is that then?” Crowley asked.

“Oh no, you wily serpent,” Aziraphale wagged his finger at Crowley crossly, “You will not be going and bothering her anymore today.”

“Come on, Aziraphale,” Crowley begged, “I just want to-,”

Before Crowley could continue he was interrupted, “Excuse me, gents,” Shakespeare said, “That was quite the performance would you mind if I borrowed some of it?”

“Not at all,” Crowley said dismissively, “Now would you mind leaving my friend and me alone?”

*end flashback*

“She was not happy when Romeo and Juliet was released,” Crowley laughed, “She didn’t speak to me for over a century.”

“That’s the closest I’ve ever come to murder,” Crowley and Aziraphale spun around when they heard your voice behind them.

“You came back!” Crowley was shocked.

“Yes, well,” you said timidly and blushed, “I am a bit tired after nearly 6000 years of running.”

********************

Note: Hope you enjoyed, @owba-chan! Thank you for the request! Also, the flashback scene isn’t the scene from the show. Not a 100% sure where in history it would fit but I thought the stage bit was a cute idea, so I went with it anyway. Have a great week, everyone! ~M

#crowley #anthony j crowley #anthony janthony crowley #crowley x reader #crowley x female reader #crowley x angel reader #crowley x angel!reader #female reader #reader insert #female reader insert #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

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jemej3m · 5 years

Note

Yoooooooooo I love romcoms like no other bitch jem, what’re ur thoughts on Isn’t it Romantic? AU with andriel 🙀

no,,,,,,,,,,,,this is a terrible idea,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Andrew knows this isn’t real.

Why? Because Neil just flirted with him, and Neil does not flirt with him. Neil barely knows how to function as a member of society, let alone understand romantic relationships, or be able to prompt one.

Nevertheless: Andrew had walked into work, and Neil had leaned into his cubicle with a dozy smile, before complimenting his slacks, winking, and walking away.

Another strong contender for this being a distorted version of reality: Kevin now hated his guts. His assistant - the gooey-eyed, exy-obsessive, tall-ass freak was now waltzing around with Jeremy on one arm and Jean on the other, his once-employers, berating the shit out of people and purposefully spilling his coffee on Andrew before asking for him to get a new one.

Then he was in the bathroom, ringing out his coffee-stained shirt when his cousin, Nicky, who worked in marketing, waltzed in whilst flamboyantly spreading his arms and proclaiming “Shopping trip! Let’s go!” And whilst Nicky did sometimes act like that stereotypical hyper-feminine gay guy, he wasn’t this one-dimensional.

After work had finished - or, rather, after Andrew had been whisked away, forced on a shopping spree, and then sent back to work with an hour to spare only to have Kevin demote him - he stumbled out of the building, ready to catch a bus home, just as a car came careening around the corner and almost catching Andrew’s hip. He stumbled, almost dropping all his shit to the ground, just as the person driving the car got out. He put his hands on Andrew’s shoulders to steady him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He shoved the man’s hands away, repulsed.

“I can’t believe I almost just killed the hottest guy I’ve ever seen,” The man said, in a terribly breathless voice. Andrew looked up, seeing six-feet on tanned skin and expensive silk suit stretched across his shoulders. He was no Neil, but he was certainly easy on the damned eyes. “I’m Roland. Who are you?”

“Uh…”

“Doesn’t matter! Go on a date with me.” He tucked a business card into Andrew’s pocket, before blowing a kiss and sliding back into his priceless ride. Andrew was left, stunned, on the street corner.

Then he realised.

Best friend at work turned enemy? Overly-gay supporting character? Strange, handsome man almost killing him and then asking him on a date? Long-standing work-crush suddenly showing obvious interest?

Andrew was in a rom-com.

Shit.

“Neil,” He snapped his fingers in front of Neil’s face. “Neil, Neil, Neil, Neil, Neil. Earth to Neil?”

“Hm?” Neil looked up at him with those dreamy eyes, before smiling. “Oh, ‘Drew. Are you alright?”

“No.” Andrew snapped, fishing into his pocket for a cigarette. “Smoke break?”

“Sure.” He stood up from his desk and walked just ahead of Andrew, letting him appreciate how well-dressed he’d been as of late. Must have been Allison.

Not real, Andrew reminded himself. Neil had worn ratty jeans to work before (and gotten away with it because everyone loves him): His sense of fashion was beyond deplorable at best. This wasn’t real. None of this was real.

Andrew blinked: He’d just wanted to go out in front of their building to smoke, but suddenly, they were walking through a lush green park, where men and women laughed as they rode pastel bikes, whilst families picnicked on the little grassy knolls. Andrew was losing his damn mind.

“So,” Neil said, around his cigarette, smiling effortlessly. Another lie. Neil didn’t smile, albeit in a rare flash when Andrew said something particularly crude under his breath at work parties. Now he was grinning like a mad idiot, his scars much paler against his skin than they should be.

It made Andrew irrationally mad. Neil was gorgeous with his scars, but this dystopian hell-space had to wash him out and make him more appealing to a wider audience, like this was a real rom-com people were watching. Fucking gross.

“Roland, hm?”

“What?” Andrew echoed, blinking. “Who?”

“He almost hit you with his car, yesterday. He’s Kevin’s newest client for a new hotel on the south-side. Asked after your work because it’s the best. He also said he asked you out on a date but you hadn’t called him yet. What’s the hold-up?”

“No - I - well - what?”

Neil looked at the ground with an obviously disappointed pout. “I’m sure you’ll have a marvellous time with him.”

“No, Neil, I -” Not real, not real, not real. He eyed an escape in the form of a small flower stall that’d mysteriously popped up as they walked. This was ridiculous. Absurd. “I’ll be back. I just gotta go to the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Neil said, smiling again. “I’ll be right here.”

Andrew bought a rose, because that’s all the flower-vendor seemed to be selling, and turned around to return to Neil. If this was all gonna end when he woke up, he might as well make the most of it, shouldn’t he?

Walking back over to where he’d left Neil standing, he watched in dismay as a woman he’d never seen before leaned over and planted a kiss on Neil’s cheek. He gave her those doe-eyes that he’d been giving Andrew all day, holding her hands. She really was stunning, in a tight skirt and a floral shirt, with hair that was perfectly curled.

The rose fell from Andrew’s hand. What the fuck?

“Andrew!” Neil called out, waving enthusiastically. “Marissa just accidently almost hit me with her bike. Isn’t she gorgeous?” The girl laughed, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m going to head back to work later, alright? We’re going out on a date!”

“Sure,” Andrew muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as Neil and Marissa giggled at one another, whispering into each other’s ears. “See you later.”

Roland wouldn’t leave him alone. Neil was waxing poetry about Marissa, wondering if it was too early to propose. Kevin sneered at him at every given moment, and Nicky wouldn’t shut up about being in debt because he bought a Gucci belt that he was dying for and had to have.

He hit his head against his desk over and over and over, just wishing it’d end. For the love of God, just fucking let this torture end.

“Andrew, what are you doing?” Roland’s nerve-grating voice called. “You’re so silly. I love that about you. Should we grab lunch and talk about this project?” He batted his eyelashes. “I’d love to get to know more about your ideas.”

Andrew sat up slowly. How did rom-coms end?

By ending up with the person.

An idea formed. He looked Roland dead between the eyes and said “Sure. Why not?”

Roland took him out to a glass-walled restaurant in a penthouse apartment, miles above the ground. Andrew felt sick the entire time and could barely eat: He even resorted to talking about work and plans to avoid looking at the sheer drop to the ground below him. They were up so high.

“Are you alriight, cutie?” Roland teased. “You don’t look too good.”

“I wanna get out of here.” Andrew stood, shoving the chair back. “I had a good time.” Not. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” Roland winked. “Let me drop you home.”

Andrew didn’t protest, so long as he was on the ground once more and not dangling in the clouds. When he clambered into Roland’s car he let himself breath, unclenching his fists.

Neil knew he was scared of heights. Neil would have never taken him to a restaurant like that.

“Buckle up!” Roland insisted in his regrettably sing-song like voice, revving the car’s engine.

Andrew did not buckle-up, embracing the risk. Roland tried to hold his hand over the gearstick and he almost pulled a knife on the man, before remembering he was a client and Kevin would never let him live it down.

The last thing he remembered was wishing he could have given Neil a chance whilst he still had one, before another car came careening towards them with the lights glazing, head nose-first into Andrew’s side of the car -

“Andrew?” A distant voice called. “You’re moving your fingers. Can you hear me at all?”

His eyes peeled open: They felt glue-lined, crusted over with time. The face hovering near him looked relieved, settling back into the chair and reaching for a cup of water. The glass was held to Andrew’s lips who took a few hesitant sips, making sure it didn’t spill.

Andrew’s head throbbed.

“You were out cold for a few days. Your family will be back soon, but right now, it’s just me.”

Andrew focussed his eyes. Neil sat in front of him, not smiling, wearing an old t-shirt and jeans. His hair was a mess, and he looked like he hadn’t slept.

“Neil,” He muttered, waving heavy arms around. “What happened?”

“You were driving home from work.” Neil explained. “Kevin got the call from your brother who’d been working a shift when they wheeled you in, who told Nicky and I. We came here as soon as we could.”

“Kevin?”

“Yes, your assistant? Dark-haired giant, acts like a pathetic teddy-bear? He was crying a little when you came out of surgery.” Neil snorted, a hint of his tiny smile at the corner of his lips. “How are you feeling?”

He was back in reality. Thank fuck. “Fantastic.”

“Morphine does that to you.”

“Come here.”

“What?”

Andrew could still remember sitting next to Roland as they drove, wishing he’d just fucking taken the chance whilst Neil was available. Now he had the chance again. “I said come here.”

Neil shuffled closer, mildly confused.

“I want to kiss you.”

“Seriously?” Neil remarked, baffled. “Since when?”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Since forever ago. You’re an oblivious idiot.”

Neil shrugged. “Can’t discredit you on that one.” He looked nervously down at his own hands, fingers wound together and knuckles white. “Maybe when you’re not stuck in a hospital bed. I’m not really sure. I would like to figure it out with you.”

“Yes or no,” Andrew admonished. “I’m concussed. Don’t make this any harder than it already is, junkie.”

Neil’s tiny smile, the one Andrew had fallen for in the first place, came out. “Okay.”

Andrew closed his eyes, hoping this was his reality. Neil’s fingers gently wove together with his own and squeezed. Andrew’s heart fluttered: He was pretty sure he couldn’t imagine that.

And then they lived happily ever after.

what a ridiculous and fluffy au. i’ll have to compensate for that in my next fic ;DDDD

#andreil #rom-com au #isnt it romantic spoilers #this is terrible #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #all for the game #jem writes

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