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robincantfunction · 3 years

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If the world was ending ✰ F.W

day 4 of @theweasleyslut's writing challenge

inspired by the song: if the world was ending

requested: yes/no (requests are open)

word count: 1812 (i keep making them longer than intended i'm sorry)

warnings: my attempt at some sort of angst and kinda fluff at the end- idk this whole fic was an experiment of things i've never done before- like one kiss, being hit on by cormac, like 3 swear words, break ups, lower case, not proof read.

summary: after a break up, fred and y/n can't stop thinking about each other- especially after a small earthquake.

trope: flower shop au (i'm sorry cause i'm not great at flower shop au's, idk they're not really my thing but i gave it a try)

prompt: "were you dreaming of me again?"

𓆏𓃟𓃠𓃗𓃱𓃰𓄁

i could faintly hear someone calling my name, but the past few weeks i've been on and off zoning out and i can't help it. it's like a piece of me left when he did. "sorry, i was in another world for a minute there" he just smirked "were you dreaming of me again?" ugh. cormac, why does this man have to be the worst flirt in the world. you sell flowers, you could come up with such a smart and or cringe pick up line... to your customers. not your employee. "sure. 100% i was dreaming of you" my tone was drenched in sarcasm, no matter how many hints i give that guy, he still .thinks i'm interested "aw darling no need to be grumpy, or embarrassed about dreaming about me. god knows i dreamt of you" he winked. and then, there was an earthquake. a couple plants shook, and cormac lost his balance- it really wasn't that bad. but of course i couldn't stop myself from thinking of him.

as soon as it happened he popped into my head 'i hope it wasn't bad for fred'. god, i'm so stupid. throughout the rest of the day he was all i could think of. "um, sorry i don't normally do this, but you miswrote the little gift note on the bouquet" a random lady said, as i was wrapping up someone elses flowers "im so sorry, what did you want me to write on it?" she gave me a soft smile, although she was clearly annoyed "to mavis, with love" as i looked down at the note i wrote attached to the base of the bouquet i saw i wrote 'to fred'. great, i can't get him out of my head. and then the worst idea came to mind 'i should call him'. i wasn't going to deny that i miss him. every night it was like i was tip toeing around his ghost, nearly everything in my apartment reminded me of him- from the space on the sofa he used to always sit in whilst i put my head on his lap and he'd play with my hair, to his side of the bed, the shampoo he always used to tell me smelt nice, or the blue towel he never hang back up on the rack. everything could be correlated to him, even my place of work.

"freddie what are you doing here" he just gave me a hug, and a quick kiss. "is it illegal to come buy my girlfriend flowers" he said as if in shock, as he walked over to where we kept my favourite flowers "i suppose it's not the worst thing you could be doing" he chuckled at my comment and picked out a few flowers he knew i liked. once i finished wrapping them up like he asked he handed them back to me "m'lady, some pretty flowers for a pretty women" i giggled like he was my high school crush "you're insufferable" but i couldn't stop smiling. he really was a charmer.

"y/n, are you ok?" i was shaken out of my daze "oh my god, i'm so sorry. i'm really not with it today" she smiled at me, but still clearly irritated. i wrote down 'to mavis' and she seemed very glad to get out of the shop. i don't blame her, i'm really having an off day.

as i walked through my apartment door i had decided, i was gonna call him. i mean if the world was ending he'd come over right? as we neared the end of our relationship it seemed like neither of us were cut out for forever, we were distant. he and his twin ran a business and it was still taking a lot of their time and energy to keep it running, they were still figuring it out. but right now i was regretting it all. i really wanted him to hold me tight, even if it was for one last time.

he was like a drug and i needed my fix- and maybe even a lifetime supply.

☆fred's pov☆

"fred! hello, earth to fred" i was shaken out of my thoughts "are you ok, you've been staring into space for like 20 minutes, whats wrong?" george asked me, quite concerned, it's no secret i haven't been myself recently. i just missed her, and i wanted to call her. "nothin' georgie, just in my own world" he nodded slightly, he clearly knew i wasn't ok, but he knew that if he opened the wound more than it already is, it would make things worse. and then there was an earthquake. it wasn't a big one, just knocked over a really poorly stacked display in the shop, george also chucked it... whether that was the earthquake or his two left feet im not sure. and then my thoughts of y/n were amplified, by like 2000. the rest of the day was filled with nothing but y/n. god, what is wrong with me?

the shop, the apartment above the shop, all of it was full of memories of her. full of laughs, happy moments that i'd do anything to get back.

we didn't break up on bad terms, but they weren't exactly good terms either. both of us were busy and stressed with work and we took it out on each other, we weren't meant for each other apparently. but i felt like she was the one, ever since our first couple of dates, she was so special to me. "do you think i was stupid to do it?" i asked george, he looked up from his paper work slightly confused "fred you do a lot of stupid things, you're going to have to elaborate" i chuckled slightly and sighed "do you think i was stupid to let her go? i mean i barely put up a fight. we fought for 3 days in a row and then boom, my life fell apart" he gave me a sympathetic look, knowing how hard it had been "fred, couples fight. if you don't it causes a weird imbalance. with the buisness and her hours being extended you were bound to take it out on each other. it isn't the end of a relationship if you need space, and maybe that's what the break up gave you. if you want to call her, i'm sure she's in the same boat" he was right. "ok who gave you permission to suddenly be good at giving advice?" we both laughed "angelina. she took me to one of her work seminars. it was boring as shit"

just as i was about to pick up my phone to call her, it started ringing. the caller ID said y/n. huh what a coincidence. i answered the call and heard her sigh in relief "hey" i spoke, still in shock that she actually called me "hey freddie, sorry for calling i-" hearing her voice again brought a smilie to my face, i really missed it. before she could finish her sentence i cut her off "don't apologise. it's ok, if i'm being honest i was just about to call you anyway" she let out another relieved sigh "wait, really?" i chuckled a little bit awkwardly "yeah. i uh, i miss you. and i was also wondering if you were ok after the earthquake earlier, i know it was only a small one but-" now it was her turn to cut me off "wow we are ridiculous- i called to check if you were ok after it too" we both started laughing. it was like the old days. "are you still at work" she asked me "no, i just finished, how bout you?" i smiled slightly "yeah i finished like an hour ago... are you free, so we can like meet. i wanna talk to you, over the phone just doesn't seem like the best place to do it" now i was really smiling "yeah of course"

after talking on the phone for a little longer, to determine a place to meet, i left to meet her at the park we used to go to, at the bench near the playground. i was nervous, but happy she wanted to meet.

☆y/n's pov☆

i was sitting on the bench waiting for him, playing with the loose string on his my hoodie. i still wore it, it made me feel like maybe i wasn't stupid enough to break up with him after one stupid argument. i saw him walking towards me, and i felt happy- but sad. what if this didn't go well? "hey there" i smiled at him. i hadn't seen him in 3 weeks, which didn't sound like a lot, but before i was seeing him at least every other day. now i was seeing him for the first time in nearly a month, and it felt right. "how have you been?" he asked, i was kinda hoping he wouldn't ask me that, cause i really didn't want to lie to him "i've been better" he gave me a sympathetic smile "same, love, same... what happened to us?" i smiled sadly "i wish i knew freddie. i guess we were both overwhelmed with being adults and having responsibilities. we took it out on eachother and i really regret that" he nodded "i do to. fuck, why does life have to be the shit hole that it is" i chuckled "that's a great question. do you wanna try again?" i may regret asking that, but i just had to know "yeah, fuck yeah. i guess, and i can't believe i'm quoting george so don't tell the cocky bastard, we just needed a bit of space. and the break up provided that. we got out lives together a bit better. but god have i missed you" i smiled and let out a breath i didn't realising i was holding in, he wiped the stray tear that was running down my face and pulled me into a hug, and then a kiss.

a couple weeks past and things went back to normal. "why hello miss, could you tell me which flowers you think my girlfriend would like?" fred asked "hm, i suppose she'd like these ones, and i'm sure they'd look great in the blue vase that's on top of the cabinet in her living room" i smiled at him cheekily "would she, well i think that can be arranged" he stayed at the shop until my lunch break "cormac i'll be back in an hour, i'm having my lunch break with fred" he appeared from the staff room "oh so this is fred?" his voice laced with venom "no need to be embarrassed about dreaming of me" i mimicked, he didn't seem impressed "i would be mad, but i don't blame him" fred joked as we left the shop hand in hand. it was good to be back.

#fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred x reader #fred x you #theweasleyslut’s 2k writing challenge

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pastelwitchling · 3 years

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brittz-2123 asked:

I have a half assed attempt at a prompt? Because I love everything you wrote so I just have a vague idea. Anything where Kyle and Michael are at odds about Alex. Alex is in the hospital and best friend vs "boyfriend/not quite boyfriend" over who should take care of him during recovery. Michael not liking how touchy Kyle and Alex are. But again I don't have good ideas and literally EVERYTHING you write is amazing... you ALMOST make me like Forrest, almost.

***

Michael’s knuckles as he gripped the hospital bed railing were white. He’s fine, he reminded himself. He’s okay. He’s alive. He’s fine.

Alex brought his arm down from where he’d had it draped across his eyes and raised a brow at him. “Guerin.”

“Yeah,” Michael straightened. “What do you need? Water? A snack? I could go get you some food from the cafeteria.”

Alex stared. “I need you –”

“I need you, too –”

“—to unclench,” he finished.

Michael swallowed, and he nodded, trying very hard not to let his eyes wander to Alex’s leg. Two whole weeks on his prosthetic had done a number on Michael’s airman, leaving his skin red and purple with an infection and swelling like a balloon. Nobody had noticed until Kyle, for the first time in those weeks, made it to the bunker. His eyes had lingered on Alex, and he’d caught his arm just as he’d stumbled.

“Damn it, Manes,” he’d sighed, encouraging Alex to lean against him. “What’d you do to yourself?”

Alex had insisted he didn’t need a hospital, and proceeded to limp back to his seat before Michael caught him by the waist and demanded he get in his truck.

Now he was standing at Alex’s bedside where Alex lied, still in his jeans and jacket, which must’ve been making him even more uncomfortable, though he’d refused to change. Alex tried to look calm, but Michael saw the way he winced every so often, as if just breathing was worsening the pain in his leg.

He hadn’t realized his eyes had wandered down again until Alex cupped his jaw and made him meet his eyes.

“Unclench, Guerin,” he said, amused. Michael covered Alex’s hand with his own and turned his face into Alex’s palm, kissing him. Alex looked startled, but Michael hung on. He opened his mouth to say something, though he didn’t know where to start, but then –

“Two weeks!” Kyle walked into the room and tossed the clipboard down on the end of Alex’s bed. “You’ve been without your prosthetic for how many hours in that time?”

Alex’s head fell back as he seemed to try to remember, and Kyle clenched his jaw. “This is not a thinking question, Alex. I’ll give you the answer right now; none. Never. I’m willing to bet my diploma you never took it off once.”

“I do have to shower without it, you know,” Alex said, and Kyle glared.

“Glad you think this is so funny because you’ll have a lot of time to come up with jokes when you’re bedridden for the next month.”

Alex nodded, unsurprised, but Michael’s eyes widened. “Month?! It’s that bad?”

“Yes,” Kyle said at the same time that Alex assured him, “No.”

“Look,” Alex defended, “you have any idea how many times my superiors have told me that I’d be out of action for half a year? Sometimes longer? Two weeks later, I’m fine. They’re always saying crap like that so you’re careful, but I don’t need to be careful.”

“Well,” Kyle said coolly, “luckily for you, what you think you need doesn’t matter because I’m going to be looking after you for the next couple of weeks.”

Michael frowned. “What?”

“And don’t think I haven’t already devised a whole check-up schedule,” he went on, heedless of Michael’s anger.

“I’m going to take care of Alex,” he blurted, and both Kyle and Alex looked to him with raised brows, stunned. His cheeks burned, but he forged on, “I know him better than anybody, and I have the powers to keep him still for a month. What’re you going to do, pump him with anesthetics?”

“God help me,” Kyle said, “if that’s what it takes.”

“You two do realize you’re talking about keeping me physically contained, right?” Alex said mildly. “That won’t go well for either of you.”

Kyle met Michael’s eyes, and they knew they could agree on one thing; forcing Alex down would be impossible. But that didn’t change the fact that Michael knew him best, that he knew how to keep Alex happy and comfortable, that he would do anything Alex needed him to do.

“How’re you going to take care of him?” Kyle demanded. “Do you know how to manage an infection? What medication he needs, when he needs them? What to do if the swelling suddenly gets worse which could definitely happen because he’s Alex and we all know he won’t rest like he should?”

Alex held up his hands. “I’m right here.”

“What about you?” Michael snapped back, keeping pressed to the bed’s railing. He felt like if he had to be any further away from Alex, he might get sick. “When will you have the time to look after him? You’re a surgeon, remember? You guys aren’t exactly known for your extensive vacation days!”

“Guys –”

“No offense, Guerin,” Kyle huffed, “but you guys have been dating a month, he’s been sick for two of them, and you didn’t notice. He needs someone who really knows him.”

Michael smirked bitterly, trying not to show how hurt he was by that little truth. “I’m not leaving his side, so if you wanna get rid of me you’re gonna have to stab me with pollen.”

“Guys –”

Kyle scoffed. “I’ve carried an extra one with me for just this moment, please – I am actually begging you – give me a reason –”

“GUYS!” Alex snapped, and he winced and doubled over, clutching his leg. His outburst had apparently shaken him a bit too roughly and he’d pulled something because his fingers were digging into his knee and his breathing was ragged.

Michael’s anger faded at once, as did Kyle’s, and he put his hand on Alex’s shoulders. “I’m – I’m sorry, baby –”

“It’s okay, Alex,” Kyle helped him lie back again. “We shouldn’t have gone off like that, just relax, okay?”

“I don’t need . . . anyone to look after me . . .” His words were labored, his breathing heavy. “I am . . . perfectly capable . . . of taking care . . . of myself . . .”

Kyle shook his head. “Alex, you –”

“I know,” he huffed. “I got myself into this in the first place, but . . . I don’t want to do any more damage. I shouldn’t have let it get this bad. I can work from home, but I’ll rest when you tell me to, and take all the medication the nurse gives me like a good little patient, okay?”

Kyle pursed his lips. “You better mean that, Alex, or I swear I will pin you down and force those pills down your stomach.”

Alex gave him a small, indulgent smile. “Sure.” He looked to Michael. “And I’ll call you every night, no matter how tired I get, and let you know how I’m doing.”

Michael shook his head. “No, you won’t call.”

“No, I will, I promise –”

“I’ll see you,” he said, and both Kyle and Alex blinked. Michael’s cheeks burned but he finished, “Every night. I’ll let myself in, I’ll see you, make sure you’re okay.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to sleep until I do, Private.”

Alex nodded slowly, starting to smile. “So you’ll check in on me, then just leave?”

Michael held his gaze. They both knew Michael wouldn’t be going anywhere, but neither felt the need to say it when their eyes made all the promises of dark nights and gentle hands and rustled sheets.

Kyle, however, seemed to hear it all anyway, and he rolled his eyes. He grabbed his clipboard and made his way to the door. “I still say you can do better.”

***

I’ll get there with Forrest... you just wait...

But yay! I did it, five whole prompts in one day! And, luckily, I’m very, very happy with all of them ❤ I will be posting them to ao3 over the next few days. Thank you so much to everyone who submitted prompts, I’m so sorry if I didn’t get to yours, but there are plenty more malex works coming up! I still have the third chapter of Remembrance, another project, and another few secret stuff I’ve been working on that I can’t talk about (yet). Thank you for your continued support, it means so much, and I hope you enjoyed reading these little fics today ❤🧡💛💚💙💜🤎🖤🤍

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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ssolarcalendarr · 3 years

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Raffle Prize #1

"Did you get vandalized with graffiti too?"

Pairing: Gundham Tanaka x Male!Reader fic for @nekomaruimagines!

TW: Just drawing honestly, and a pinch (like one granule of salt worth) of language <3 (there’s like one cuss from Nekomaru ):< )

A/N: I hope you like it maru ^^ this was actually so cute hehe // [F/N] is your favorite color!

Prompt 6: "You can see whatever your soulmate writes on their skin on your skin,"

Waking up, in your comfy bed with the blanket draped over your body, you sighed. Another day of...

Messing with your soulmate!

A mischievous smile entered your face, making you look way too evil for this situation. You woke up and the first thing on your mind was annoying your soulmate, whoever it was! Sitting up energetically, you ruffled your hair a bit and checked the time. It was the weekend so you assumed you would wake up later in the day, but to your surprise, you woke up at 5:53 AM.

“Haha!” Your smile grew even bigger. Now you had even more time...

Standing up from your bed, you threw your phone to where you just were and walked into the bathroom, making sure to grab a Sharpie pen from your desk. Looking in the mirror above your sink, already opening the pen cap, your smirk going ear to ear...

Your jaw dropped.

“W-wha...”

Your eyes widened as you look at yourself. Your face. Your soulmate has never done anything this rebellious to you before. Tracing your hand along your skin...

There were multicolored sharpie marks on your face, one of the marks was in red that said “IDIOT” on your forehead, one of them was on your left cheek in blue which was like a summoning circle, another on your other cheek which was a normal star in purple.

You rolled up the sleeves of your pajamas to gather water from the sink to try and rinse off the marker but realized...

Your soulmate made marks all over your body. There were designed lines on your arms and your hands were decorated with symbols along your knuckles and palms. This made you laugh in disbelief.

“Maybe my soulmate wanted to get payback for all the times I’ve done the same!” you thought happily. Then on your other arm, you realized your soulmate left a tiny message.

It wrote, “I am sorry to have to do this, but you left me no choice dearest soulmate. Today must have come as a shock to you, seeing how you probably are currently... But then again, you deserve it Y/N, my ‘angel’.”

You guys shared names, but never phone numbers since writing on your skin was more fun, well for you of course. Either way, you became flustered a bit and a tad annoyed. Well, you got a taste of your own medicine. How early did your soulmate wake up to do this? Was it last night?

Questions popped into your head about them... But the main thing you could think about was “When can I meet them?” You were so eager to meet your soulmate now, and since you had all of these markings on you, this was one of the perfect times to go out and try and find them. I mean, all those other times they were either pretty small like dumb messages to say hello to your soulmate, or sometimes they were huge, where you would go and draw on your face and body. But they were never as big as what your soulmate has done. They looked like tattoos, to be honest.

They can match your level. Maybe even beyond what you expected. Exiting the bathroom, you put the pen back onto your desk. Pondering what to do, you decided to dress up in a [F/C] sleeveless button-up shirt to show off your marked arms and having normal jeans covering your long legs since your arms were enough.

Prepping your clothes, you undressed in the bathroom, still staring at the mirror. You couldn’t help but laugh. Your soulmate really went far this time. There were simple drawings on your chest and random small squiggles.

After dressing up, you raced out of your room, grabbing another marker, this time in green, and your phone. The sun burned your eyes as you entered the outside, your eyes still trying to adjust to the light. Your colorful face could be seen wonderfully now. As you started walking around, heading to a more populated area like the park (which was where you were going), you started to, very rapidly, get stares from people.

Proudly smiling, you made your way to your favorite park, almost always crowded with people of youth: “Sunflower Peaks”, to meet your friends, like you had planned to last minute. Shoving the items you had in your back pocket, you enjoyed the scenery.

Little kids passed by you, probably in awe since you heard them say “Woah!! Look at those drawings on his arm! I want my soulmate to do that when I’m older!” You waved to them and their faces lit up with joy.

Afterward, you stepped into the playground, the bark crunching under your matching [F/C] shoes. Passing by even more children and many parents ushering them from you, you sat on a vacant swing. You reached for the green marker that you put into your back pocket and opened it with your mouth.

Looking around your hand, arm, even under your shirt, you eventually found a spot on your palm, although small, that you could write on. Smiling in the back of your head, you started writing on your skin.

“Meet me over at Sunflower Peak, you’ll know it’s me when you see the big IDIOT on my face :P”

Now the smile was actually on your face, butterflies all of a sudden going in your stomach! However, your confidence was, unfortunately, starting to drain...

NO!

You wouldn’t let your nerves get the best of you today! Plus your distraction should be here by now...

As you dangle your legs on the swing, the breeze on your face, letting it ruffle your hair, you feel like a kid again.

Well, you were acting immaturely when drawing on your body, but most of the time... You were serious. Taking breaks only when you needed to, cleaning your schedule, finishing your work on time, trying yourself to the limit.

Your soulmate was the one who allowed you to be free, to let your childish persona out. Getting all excited, you smiled an even bigger smile thinking back...

“HEY! Y/N! THERE YA ARE!” A loud, booming voice caught your attention. There, your distraction was walking towards you. He probably scared some of the children, but you paid no mind.

“Nekomaru!” You yelled, a bit quieter than him, back. You noticed two other people. One of them was a buddy of yours as well, Akane Owari. The other person was no other than Ibuki Mioda, whom you’ve seen in the news now and then.

Getting up from the seat, you stood up excitedly! Just in time to distract you.

Akane was bringing a picnic basket while Ibuki was handling a... Giant boombox. Uhm, haha, yes, a boombox. You haven’t seen one in a while, only in movies mainly. Nekomaru was carrying a backpack, most likely filled with things for today.

“I brought along Akane and Ibuki, if ya don’t mind! I had a massive workout yesterday with a team I was coaching so I’m sore as shit! We’re gonna stretch!” He boisterously yelled again.

“Sup Y/N! Gotta run real quick!” Akane waved her arm frantically and ran off like she was trying to find something.

“Heyoo!” Ibuki waved, somehow carrying the boombox with one arm, “Nice to meet ya, idiot!” Ah, you forgot you had the word idiot on your face. Embarrassment slightly flooded your senses as you recalled how you faced those children.

You waved to both, giving them a slightly awkward chuckle. After your friends put down their stuff and rested on the grass field, the three of you, excluding the gymnast who was still running, started to bring up small talk. How their days were, how tried Ibuki was, what the plan was for today, etc, etc... What you didn’t mention was that you were including in this because you wanted to waste time, you wanted time for your soulmate to come to you, so you could finally meet them...You got your phone out, checked the time which brightly illuminated as 6:35. God, you were out for a long time.

After a little while, Akane decided it was best to eat first before heading over to a nice spot where a flower field was and start stretching. She plopped down right next to you and opened the basket she was holding for so long. Seconds later, there was a whole kiddie lunch out: sandwiches, soda, onigiri, burgers, literally tons of junk/fast food that kids would love...

Didn’t mean you guys didn’t like em too. Everyone was munching down as you were steadily holding a triangular-shaped onigiri. “Y/N? Ya not hungry?”Akane shouted, food stuffed into her mouth. You nodded and got your phone out again to check the time. It wasn’t late, not even afternoon yet but you couldn’t help but be antsy about your soulmate. What if they didn’t live near here? What if you had to wait hours upon hours? You couldn’t wait that long!

As you took another bite of the onigiri, a phone began ringing, though it wasn’t for long. Most likely a message notification. It wasn’t yours, you had your phone in your other hand. Instead, it was none other than Ibuki...

And Nekomaru? And Akane?

They all got a notification... But you didn’t. Was something gonna happen?

“Ah! You two stay there, I’ll get our newest member joining us today!” Akane yelled out loud with a smile, only to get that idea shut down by your best friend.

“Let me do it, you’ve already gone through all that trouble.” Nekomaru stood up and dropped the, quite heavy, bag on the grass. “I’ll be back soon!” He laughed.

Then he started running away, leaving you with two hyperactive girls.

Ibuki started up some songs on the boombox, blasting it a bit without blowing your ears off. Akane just kept on eating the food, every now and then offering some to you since all you ate was one itty bitty onigiri.

Getting a bit bored, you stood up and started walking around, picking at the grass. Minutes after, you heard Ibuki and Akane snickering about something. Curious as to what they were laughing about, you approached them, but as soon as they saw you walking, they tried to shut their mouth.

Something was up.

You sat back down and stared them down, hoping they spill something.

“Hey, quick q, how did you get that word on your head?” The singer quickly questioned, which got her a sudden elbow in her ribs.

“Oh,” You responded, not expecting to have to answer a question. But nonetheless, you answered it, “Well, when I woke up it was already there, I assume my soulmate did it,” You shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal.

Akane checked her phone speedily and hid it from you just as fast. There was something on that phone...

But you decided not to barge through her personal info and all, you don’t wanna get punched in the face with someone with tons of strength... Such as the Ultimate Gymnast in front of you.

Just in time, Nekomaru came back with no one around him. Wasn’t he gonna-

“Let's go to the flower field and stretch!” Nekomaru cut off your train of thought. Now that was surprising. He picked the bag he dropped on the floor back on his shoulders with ease, and almost dragged you and his friends over to the yard.

Well, not like you minded. The campus you were on was beautiful and so peaceful. The flowers seemed to sway a bit from the tiny breeze of spring. It was cooling and probably the perfect place to spend time with friends.

You wished your soulmate were here. This was your favorite part of the park. It was always so lush and smelled wonderful. All the volunteers took such great care with the plants and you were one of them.

Nekomaru tapped your shoulder since you were so awestruck by the scenery. Ah, you had time to stare at it later. It brought you back to reality and when you turned around...

It was kinda like looking in a mirror.

There was a person there that had the same marking on your forehead. They had all of the markings on your face, on theirs.

You couldn’t say anything, you were so shocked that they were there. There was a male. He had pale skin, two different colored eyes -- ruby and stormy grey, hair that swirled up, and four tiny hamsters sat on his shoulders, all gushing and chipping. The man stared at you, a growing blush on his cheeks and ears. Though, it was covered by the same marks you had on your cheeks.

The same red “IDIOT” on their forehead, the same blue summoning circle drawing on their left cheek, and a purple star on their right.

On one of their arms, since one was covered in a bandage, there was that little message you got. You couldn’t believe it.

Right there, in front of you, the petals of the flowers complimenting the aura around everyone was your soulmate.

Your mouth gaped open but you couldn’t speak. You were breathless. “Hah...” You managed to say.

Then you started laughing. “Hah, hahahahah!” Oh you were so joyful.

You started walking towards him, but it became a full sprint. Your laughs could be heard throughout the whole field. You hugged him, which was more like a tackle since you both ended up falling on the ground. Your smile was so big and so was his, some small tears on the eyes of both of you boys.

“W-Well my angel... You are handsome.” He complimented as he got a close examination of your face, “Now, did you get vandalized with graffiti too?” He smirked.

You nodded as both of you guys sat down peacefully, enjoying the scenery. This was a beautiful way to meet your soulmate.

“Yeah I did, and I believe,” You tease as you cupped his face to bring it closer to you, “The culprit was you, Gundham.”

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catgrump · 3 years

Note

Hello! I love your work, I was wondering if you wanted to write Leobuki with the prompt “I knew this was a bad idea”

Thank you so much!

How have I never thought of this ship before?

Let’s go let’s go!!! Chaotic Punk Rockers!

Non Despair AU where these two are adults auditioning for a talent search/talent competition! Enjoy 💛

🌻🌻🌻

“I knew this was a bad idea I knew this was a bad idea,” Leon was muttering the phrase over and over again as he clutched the neck of his guitar that sat across his lap and tapped his foot on the tile floor incessantly

And then he heard the clanging of metal on metal beside him. He looked to his right and saw a girl sitting down in a (rather sick) colorfully punk outfit with matching hair holding a keytar. The chains on her belt must’ve made the noise as she sat down.

She was looking at him with a soft, somewhat eerie smile.

“Can I help you?” Leon asked, unsure if he wanted an answer

“Ibuki sensed distress!”

Her voice rang out like the welcome bell over a shop door. He’s been in the presence of this girl for like five seconds and he’s already... oddly intrigued. “Is that you?” Leon asked, “Ibuki?”

“Yessir; you’re a good guesser.” Her smile hasn’t left her face. The contrast of her black lipstick and white teeth was... endearing?

Well, Leon would be lying if he said he didn’t think Ibuki looked cool as hell. Pink and blue and white streaks were scattered in organized chaos throughout her long black hair; she was covered in studded, spiked, and chained accessories; her makeup was intense, yet subtle; and she had a chain of piercings trailing under her lip.

Leon’s tongue pressed against the backing of his own labret piercing, thinking about how he doesn’t think he could handle more than one there. She must be hardcore.

“So what’s up?” Ibuki asked with a pep in her pipes, then gasping, quickly straightening her posture, and answering her own question with another question, “Are you nervous about the audition??”

“Heh, you’re a pretty good guesser, too,” Leon nervously tried to flirt; why did he think THAT was a good idea when he’s already on edge?

“Do you wanna know Ibuki’s advice?”

His foot tapping has transitioned to leg bouncing as he replied, “Sure.”

“It’s not an audition at all!”

“Hah, what?”

“If you tell your brain it isn’t an audition, and you’re just playing at home like you would normally, or you’re playing for a crowd— whichever is easier for you; I know Ibuki prefers a crowd— nerves just POOF! Disappear!”

“Easier said than done,” Leon said, trying to keep his cool. She’s cute and giving him attention; he doesn’t want to pass up an opportunity for a potential phone number.

But his brain is having trouble keeping up this facade. Normally if he’s actively trying to pick someone up, he can focus all his attention on trying to impress the person he’s talking to, but the more he talks with Ibuki while trying to hold his head up high, the more he feels like he’s going to pass out. Especially because, “I’ve never actually performed for a crowd before.”

“Wooooaaahhh that’s cuckoo bananas!” Her eyes almost had actual stars in them, “You must have some serious balls to make your first performance a talent competition!”

“Hah, I guess so—“

“But I totally get why you’re nervous! You’re super duper totally allowed to be. Ibuki was in her first talent competition when she was ten, and she was nervous as all hell.”

“How long ago was that?— if you don’t mind me asking,” Leon looked at Ibuki and thought she had to be at least his age

“A little over a decade!”

She is his age. And she’s been performing since she was in grade school.

Leon only recently discovered he could try to make a career in music, and one of his insecurities is feeling like he has to catch up to everyone else.

Suddenly, a stage manager with a clipboard appeared from behind the big push-bar doors, “Number 37?”

“Oh, that’s me,” Leon practically coughed out

“You’re on deck,” the stage manager added before going back inside

“How are you feeling?” Ibuki asked, leaning in

“If I’m being honest; lightheaded,” Leon tried to play it off as a joke, even though it was the truth.

“Let me get you some water!” Ibuki declared, springing up from the bench and swinging her keytar across her back before darting off

“Ibuki, wait—“

But it was too late. She was already bouncing down the hall, determined to reach her destination.

“Dammit,” Leon muttered, keeling his head forward

Talking with her was a nice distraction. Now, all he can think about is that he’s up next to audition.

By the time the stage manager came back to bring Leon into the audition space, Ibuki hadn’t returned.

Leon tried not to worry too much, thinking it would distract him in a bad way.

But he couldn’t help but think of Ibuki when he approached the microphone and said, “Hi, my name’s Leon Kuwata, and this is an original piece called ‘Under the Bleachers’,” and imagined himself alone in his apartment as he played the chords and sang.

And he got to finish the entire song. He was expecting to get cut off, but he sang the whole thing.

He was brought back to reality when one of the people on the panel who were watching started asking him about the piece, “When did you write that?”

Leon talked about how he drafted it in high school— it was originally a poem he wrote for a class assignment— and reworked it into music after going through a breakup.

The panel all at least seemed interested in his story, too, “Well, thank you for sharing, Leon,” one person said, “We’ll be in touch.”

Leon thanked the panel members and left with a smile on his face.

When he walked back into the hallway, there was Ibuki, sitting on the edge of the bench, holding a bottle of water whose condensation was dripping onto her ripped tights. She stuck to her word.

“You were so good, Leon!” She said with a grin, bouncing as she sat, the water in the bottle jostling inside.

“You could hear?” Leon asked, feeling heat creep to his face as he heard her say his name.

“Yeah! I came back and saw you were gone, so I pressed my ear to to door to snoop,” she laughed, “We have totally different styles, but I’d love to jam sometime! It’s fun to get new flavors in every now and again.”

“You would?”

“Abso-tively!” She beamed, then continued, “It’s like Absolutely and Positively had an affair and made a baby.”

Leon laughed, unsure what to make of her. She’s odd, and unapologetic about it. She’s confident enough to have been performing for over ten years. She’s honest and upbeat.

He definitely has a crush.

But would someone as cool as Ibuki want to take a chance on some shmuck like Leon?

She at least seems like she wants to be friends, and Leon would be happy with that.

“If we’re gonna jam sometime, then,” Leon stepped a bit closer and took his phone out of his pocket, “How about I get your number?”

“Sure!” Ibuki was still smiling, and caught Leon off-guard when she pulled her phone out from the waistband of her tights.

They swapped phones and exchanged numbers. Leon paused typing his in to look at her, bouncing her head rhythmically to the tapping of her thumbs on his phone’s screen.

She’s cute. She’s cute and she’s cool and she’s also a musician and Leon can’t believe he was lucky enough to meet her.

Even if he doesn’t get in the show, one good thing came out of today.

When she handed him his phone back, he read the full name of that person— the one definite good thing to come from today— illuminated on the screen: “Ibuki 🤪🖤🎸 Mioda”

If you enjoy my work, you can buy me a Ko-Fi 💛 Fics will always be free; this is just an additional way to support me!

#danganronpa #danganronpa fic #danganronpa fanfic #danganronpa fanfiction #leobuki #Leon x Ibuki #leon kuwata #danganronpa leon #sdr2 ibuki #ibuki mioda #super danganronpa 2 #sdr2 #danganronpa ibuki #Ibuki x Leon

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nostalgiaruinedme · 3 years

Text

Home

Prompt: Secret Revealed TMNT verse: 2012 Characters: Karai, Splinter, Leonardo, Raphael (brief appearance), Michelangelo (brief appearance), Donatello (brief appearance), Shredder (mentioned) Relationships: No romantic relationships. Family feels - Karai & Splinter & Leo & Donnie & Raph & Mikey AO3 Link: Here

Very light angst, mostly in talk about a sad past but the story is focused on a more hopeful future. Mostly comfort. Vent fic.

Summary: After her first few days of living in the lair, Karai thinks about what it means to finally be home. Set during S2E21, "Vengeance is Mine"

Other Notes: I'm not going to lie, this fic isn't that great and the writing is pretty weak compared to my other work. The ideas are all over the place and yeah... but I wrote it after something shitty happened in my own life and it was me attempting to get my own thoughts into focus. But vent fics can be awful I decided because this is really personal to me. This also only vaguely pertains to the prompt but it inspired it, even if I strayed a lot from my initial idea. The secret revealed was Karai's real identity of being Splinter's daughter. Honestly tho this is not very “bad things happen” but oh well. I already wrote it

____________________________

When Karai was young, she always wished for a beautiful future.

She never would have admitted it; no, dreams of hope and light were scoffed upon in the Foot, dismissed as childish fantasies by all (and Karai had never been a child). So when asked what she wanted in the future, Karai always stated the same thing: she wanted her father to rule. A perfect future would be ruling as his second in command, watching the Foot dominate the planet after they had finally gotten their revenge on the man who ruined their lives... Hamato Yoshi. That was her vision for the future.

But privately, she dreamed.

She dreamed of a day her father would stop pushing and forcing her ahead, when he would be proud of the woman she had become. He would settle down, take a break from his plans for revenge (if he couldn't retire completely) and he would breathe too. They would start to live, and her father would listen to her for once. Of course, they would never leave the Foot Clan—she loved it too much for that—but maybe, just maybe, they could stop searching for revenge and could experience life too. Maybe her father would listen to her when she swore this obsession would get them all killed... and maybe he would trust her word as much as she trusted him.

She dreamed of a chance for peace. She dreamed of hope, of family, and of trust.

But never in a million years had she dreamed of finally finding it in the sewers of New York City.

"Haha! Got you, Donnie, I got you good." Mikey taunted a now soaking Donnie, the shredded remains of a pink water balloon still covering his skin. Karai grinned as she watched Michelangelo dance around him, reaching out to poke his nose. "You can't beat Doctor Prankenstein, son!"

Donnie slapped his hand away, glaring. "That's the third time today, Mikey! Where are you even getting these? You- Hmmph!"

Cutting off his words, Mikey slapped a hand over Donnie's mouth, shushing him insistently. A glance behind her told Karai what had caught the young turtle's eye—Raphael had just returned home and was heading into the dojo. Mikey grinned towards Donnie, letting go of him to pull out another water balloon from behind his back.

"Don't say a word!"

Donnie sighed and rolled his eyes, already turning around to head back to his lab. "It's your funeral," He called over his shoulder as the mischievous grin grew across Mikey's face.

And Karai leaned back on her hands, watching as the turtle ran from the room to find Raphael. Watching the turtles had become a favorite, and most amusing, pastime of Karai's since she'd moved into the lair a few days before, after Leo and his team had saved her from her so-called "father". Without the rigorous training and missions of the Foot, she had found that she had a lot more free time on her hands. Since she hadn't had the chance to develop much as far as "hobbies" go, she'd taken to simply observing the lair and the people in it. And in that time spent observing, she had discovered a few very interesting things.

The turtles were a true family. They acted like it in private too, and it had never been an act to try to draw her in like she had supposed at one point. They truly acted like the brothers they were to each other.

"Your brothers," A quiet voice in her mind reminded her, "They're your family too."

And it was true. Since first stepping foot into their lair, Karai had felt more at home than ever before, and the family had welcomed her into their fold without question. All of them had. Even Raphael, who Karai had been sure still hated her, was making an effort to treat her as his sister. He struggled, sure, and all of them were still a little unsure of where she fit into their little puzzle, but they were trying as hard as they could. And even better? They were happy about it. The change to their family was a positive one.

And Karai felt safe for the first time in her life.

"You watching the show?"

Karai looked up to see Leo approaching her, a friendly smile on his face. She frowned ever so slightly in confusion. "Show?" She asked, looking towards the blank TV screen.

"The Raph and Mikey show," Leo clarified. "I saw Mikey head in there with that water balloon. Any second now, he'll be running out here screaming with Raph right behind him."

Karai laughed, "I wasn't planning on it, but that does sound fun. Sure, I'm here for the show-"

"MIKEY!!"

No sooner had the words left her mouth did the event happen. Mikey ran out of the dojo yelling with a soaked and angry Raphael following right behind, the two running circles around the main room without a care to mask the sound of their steps. They ran and ran, getting closer to being caught and shoving the other off before running even faster. Eventually, they retreated into the kitchen, still yelling and screaming the whole way.

Karai and Leo shared a look before they dissolved into laughter.

"This what you expected?" Leo asked her. Karai paused.

"Not really," She admitted, "It's definitely... different from the families I'm used to. But it's a nice surprise."

"Different?"

"Not many people were really a family in the Foot," Karai said, "Sure, every once in a while there were a pair of new recruits who were siblings, or a mother who brought her son into the clan. And, of course, me and..." She let those words trail off, not entirely sure how to refer to the man she had thought was her father for so many long years. He was the Shredder, of course, but referring to him in the context of 'families in the Foot' didn't feel right anymore. She shook her head. "But no one actually acted like it. No one cared for the others as much as everyone does here."

A gentle silence drifted over the lair, and Leo looked down with a slight frown. The hesitance on his face was obvious as he considered his next words, unsure how to ask whatever it was he wanted to say. Karai raised one brow.

"What?" She prompted. Leo avoided her eyes.

"Was it off-putting?" He asked slowly, "Just... it sounds like a big change, I guess, and a lot to take in after a life with Shredder. Was it hard to deal with all at once?"

Was it a big change? Yes, of course, but not in the way Karai had expected. When she escaped that prison the Shredder had locked her in, she expected it to be like a bandage being ripped off. Harsh, painful, and burning before the pain subsided to reveal healed skin. While it would hurt, it'd be worth it in the end, and the relief of living in a place she was finally loved in would hit her like a tsunami and wash her away into a brand new life.

But it wasn't like that at all.

The change was big, but it was so gentle and soft, she almost hadn't noticed it. One day, she was in a cold cell being lied to that she was loved by the parent who locked her out in the cold. The next, she was in warmth and care and comfort. She was surrounded by those who were willing to put in the effort to love her and she was happy. The change wasn't a tsunami washing away the pain at all... No, it was a warm blanket being pulled up to her chest that wrapped her in love so slowly that she wasn't sure how she ever could have ever survived without it.

"It wasn't off-putting at all," She said, turning towards her younger brother and smiling. "I promise. You guys have made the change easy."

Leo grinned, relieved. "Good." He said, before both of the two jumped at the crash heard from the kitchen.

"Raph! It was funny!"

"What have I told you?!"

Leo grimaced, glancing towards the kitchen and sighing. "I better go deal with that," He said, standing up. "But after patrol tonight, we're bunking out here to watch a couple of movies. If it goes well, I mean. You should come too."

"This is where I've been sleeping anyways, do I really have a choice?" Karai teased. Leo blanked, looking five seconds away from blabbing an apology, so Karai rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I was just messing with you. I'll be there, Don't worry."

"Oh, good, that's great!" Leo grinned, "Then-"

"DOCTOR PRANKENSTEIN STRIKES AGAIN!"

"YOU HAD ANOTHER ONE?! I'M GONNA-"

Leo groaned and sped off towards the kitchen, already shouting the two's names. Karai rose to her feet, but otherwise stayed where she was, just watching and running over the plans for later that night in her head. Patrol would be nice, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't excited to come back afterward to watch a movie. She never did that in the Foot, but here in the lair, she could. Right after she came home-

Karai froze.

Home. She had called the lair home.

Because this place really did feel like home, safer than anywhere she had lived before in her life. Even as a child with who she had thought was her family, something was always out of place, something was always wrong.

But here... it all just clicked into place. She fit in instantly in ways the Shredder had told her she never would.

Almost everything was perfect. Everything was fitting into place.

"Miwa?"

And all that was left was just one simple problem she had.

"Father," Karai turned around to face Splinter, looking up to see his smiling face, full of acceptance and pride, filling her heart with warmth in a way she never had known was possible. To think, she had hated him for all of these years because of the lies someone else had told her.

She almost hated herself for it. Sometimes she really did.

"You look troubled, my child," Her father frowned. "What is the matter?"

"I"m not troubled, I'm just..." Karai sighed, looking down. "I'm mad, I guess, at what we lost."

"We may have lost many battles, yes, but we have not lost the war. In fact-"

"No, no, not that," Karai shook her head, gesturing blindly with her hands. Was the war with the Foot and Kraang important? Of course, and she'd spent many long hours thinking about it. But that wasn't what was bothering her this time. "Not lost battles, but..." She hesitated. She'd lost so much... Lost family, lost truths, lost homes... How could she sum those billions of feelings up in only a few words? Words could only get you so far, and the tornado of thoughts in her mind could never be tamed long enough to escape her head—not properly, anyway.

"What do you mean, then?" Splinter gently pressed, "What have we lost?"

A moment of hesitance, and then a soft sigh. "Lost time," Karai finally said, "With us, I mean."

Splinter didn't reply at first, the seconds easing into minutes and hastening into what felt like decades. Karai understood why; how were you supposed to reply to something like that? How were you supposed to take that, when your own daughter was taken by someone else, fed lies about you her entire life, and taught to hate you?

"I mourn our lost time together as well," Splinter finally replied, "I wish I could have seen you grow up. But what's past is past. What matters is here and now, and that we are together again today. We must not neglect the present in grief over the past."

"I just feel so stupid," Karai said, shaking her head. "There were so many obvious signs he was lying and that he was the bad guy. But I missed all of them and I- I hated you, Father. I didn't believe you when you tried to tell me the truth either. I ignored you and fought you, but you were right all along."

The self-hatred hit her all at once, and she sunk back down to the ground in defeat. When she spoke again, her words came out in a broken whisper.

"How could you ever forgive me?"

"You were a child, Miwa," Splinter leaned forward, eyes darkening in anger. Not at her, that much was clear, but a distantly directed anger towards Oroku Saki. "What happened was not your fault, and you must never blame yourself. You were lied to and manipulated. But you, my daughter, never had a choice, even when you were told you were the one in control. This is not your doing."

"But-"

"It is not your fault," Splinter stared at her sadly, "You couldn't have known."

"But what if I had?" Karai pressed, "The hints were there. If I had figured it out, maybe all these years wouldn't have been wasted. We could have been together for more. Then maybe I wouldn't have been-"

A leader in the Foot Clan. A talented manipulator. A vengeful warrior. A twisted mind. An ugly heart.

"...Wouldn't have turned out the way I did," She finished lamely, eyes cast downwards. "I"m not Miwa, Father. I'm not who you wanted to raise me to be."

With that shameful admittance, Karai let the room drift into silence, frozen in fear. If she had said something that disrespectful to the Shredder, told her old father she wasn't who he wanted her to be, she would have been punished. Beaten, bruised, forced to train until her fingers bled... but through all of that, there was comfort in knowing what to expect. There were very few surprises the Shredder could inflict on her that she didn't already know the pain of.

But what would her true father do?

"Karai,"

Her eyes shot up to him in shock.

"When you were first born, I will admit I did have a very different picture of your future in mind," Her father chuckled, "But I never wanted to decide who you were. That is something no one but you can decide, and it is your choice and your choice alone what kind of person you will be. You were taught many cruel things, but that is part of growing up. You must take what you learned and decide for yourself what you will keep and what you will get rid of. But, my daughter, you must understand this."

He set both hands on her shoulders, meeting her eyes directly. There was nothing but pure sincerity in his words.

"You, as you are now, are wonderful. I would not trade you for anyone else. You are my daughter, Karai, and I am very proud."

The tears started to well up in her eyes and Karai sucked in a deep breath, desperately trying to hold them at bay. To break was dishonorable, but to cry in front of another individual was beyond even that. It was a horribly punishable offense that she, in her 16 years of living, had never once broken. She couldn't now. She had been taught better than that.

But then Splinter opened his arms and her breath hitched.

The Shredder had taught her many things, but acceptance and love were not one of them. Maybe her real father was right. Maybe she could throw away some of the things he had taught her without getting rid of herself, because she could decide for herself what was right and what was wrong.

That teaching, she decided, she would throw out for good. A tear ran down her cheek.

"It is okay," Splinter whispered as she fell into his arms, hugging him tightly for dear life. He held her right back. "It is okay, my daughter, you are safe here."

And she was.

She was home.

#tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt karai #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012

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snorlaxlovesme · 4 years

Text

Walk Me Home

So I guess I wrote this fic for a SoMa week prompt last year and then didn’t post it??? I found it in my drafts and was really confused what a fully completed one-shot was doing staring back at me lmao

So. Here’s a fic for I think the “2am” prompt. Title a reference to the P!nk song, since I’m pretty sure I spammed it while writing this.

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“Hey. Hey!”

Maka hears Soul’s voice call out from behind her, but she doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t want to talk right now; she wants to leave.

“Jesus, why are you walking so fast? Slow down, fuck’s sake.”

The grit of the sidewalk digs painfully into the heels of her bare feet. It doesn’t slow her down, nor does it stop her. In fact, when she hears Soul’s panting from behind her, she petulantly picks up her speed until his hand is landing on her shoulder and pulling her to a stop. He tugs her around despite her best efforts to keep walking.

“Hey, you wanna tell me what the problem is? Why did you leave the party?” He doesn’t even look mad at her, just concerned, which somehow makes her just feel worse. Soul continues, “I went to go talk to Kid for a few minutes and when I came back everyone said you left. Did something happen?”

Clearly something must have happened. She knows he can see it all over her expression, in the way she bolted away from him. Hell, he can probably feel waves of it coming directly from her soul.

But she doesn’t want to talk, so she pulls her shoulder away from his grasp and keeps walking, marching towards the direction of home, probably. She’s still a little tipsy, even though she only had a couple drinks at the party. But whoever Kid hires to bartend at the Gallows Mansion has a heavy hand when it comes to mixing drinks. Either her cocktails were stronger than normal or Maka really is the lightweight every assumes she is. She keeps walking despite her protesting feet and the way the world is swaying around her.

“So you’re just not gonna talk to me?” Soul asks, still trailing behind her. She can feel his hand come to rest on her shoulders every now and again, steadying her when she tips a bit too far in one direction, but pulling away once she’s righted herself. Protecting her while also respecting her boundaries. It’s infuriating.

Soul keeps talking to her back. “Was it something it something Black Star said? You know how Star gets when he’s drunk. He’s got no fucking boundaries.”

It’s not Black Star. It’s not anyone specifically. It’s just everyone. It’s everything. It’s nothing. She doesn’t want to explain it, because that would just be another weakness to add to the ever-growing pile.

“I can kick his ass if you want,” Soul keeps trying, knowing full-well that he could never take Black Star in a fight. The pathetic offer almost makes her smile, but she gulps it down and tries not to cry.

Soul circles around in front of her. “Look, you don’t have to tell me, but could you please stop for a sec? You’re not wearing any shoes and your feet are gonna get all fucked up. There could be glass or something.” Maka, being Maka, doesn’t give a damn about potential dangers to herself, and continues marching forward, leaving Soul to roll his eyes and pick up his pace to catch up with her again. She’s trying not to look at him, but she can see the way his eyes widen in his ‘I have an idea’ face, and two seconds later he’s transformed into a scythe in front of her, hovering a few feet off the ground beside her. His wings flap quickly and silently to keep steady beside her.

“Please?” His voice comes his weapon form, tinny and desperate.

Now Maka is the one rolling her eyes. His winged-form only rubs salt in her emotional wounds, but her feet are admittedly in a lot of pain after almost a half mile of walking on cracked concrete. She concedes and throws a leg over his handle. She grabs onto him with both hands, expecting him to whisk her away to their apartment above the buildings of Death City. Soul surprises her by hovering another foot in the air, so her feet don’t drag on the cement, but flying at the same pace she was walking.

The quiet extends before them into the night. The farther they get from the Gallows, the harder it is to hear the booming bass of the music. Soul lets Maka direct them with her soul through the residential neighborhoods and away from crowded streets. She started this walk with the intention of being alone.

But, ten times out of ten she’d rather be with Soul.

She swallows. “Do you care what people think about you?”

On a normal day he’d snark at her for finally deeming him worthy of conversation, but today he’s quiet as he thinks of what response she might be looking for. She can feel he’s trying to pick apart the meaning of this starting question, but eventually just decides to answer honestly.

“Yeah. All the time.”

It’s the truth, Maka can feel in his soul that it is, but she still doesn’t believe it. In the time that Maka has known Soul, he’s grown so much. She’s always admired the way he just lets things roll off his shoulders, not giving a shit what others think about him. Maybe he’s just been faking it, but he does a damn good job playing the Cool Guy he’s always wanted to be as a kid. He makes Maka’s version of the same kind of make-believe feel like child’s play. No one believes in her flimsy brand of confidence.

“Do you care what people think about us?” she asks.

There’s always been something in the way people talk about the two of them. Soul, the powerful, confident demon weapon that took down Arachne and helped save the world from madness on the moon. Maka, the meister who just managed to hold on for the ride. Maybe that’s not exactly what they say, but it’s implied. In the way other students will look at him with admiration, with appreciation, and then how they look at her, like they’re surprised it was little unstable Maka Albarn who managed to produce a Death Scythe. She knows she’s weak, but do people have to throw it in her face all the time? Like she was the last person they expected to be helpful in the apocalypse?

Even at a freaking party there are people coming up to Soul and asking him for autographs while Maka stands right next to him. Like somehow they know the exact imbalance of strength between Soul and Maka and they’re disappointed in Maka the same way she is with herself.

Just thinking about it has her unconsciously pulling Soul forward down the street a little faster. She breathes deeply. Just a few more minutes and she’ll be home.

Soul finally speaks, breaking her out of her own internal pity party.

“No.”

Maka blinks.

No?

“Our partnership is no one’s business but ours. If people have something to say about it, whatever. I only care about one person’s opinion when it comes to our partnership. And that’s you.”

God, it’s such a simple yet complete answer. And he’s totally right, like always. She doesn’t know why she gives a shit what other people think about her and Soul. None of it matters in the end, but God, does Maka wish for once that when she thought of the word “strength” she could picture herself embodying that word instead of never measuring up. Instead of feeling guilty for somehow always thinking she’s holding Soul back.

“You know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?”

Maka’s soul spikes so suddenly in surprise that Soul comes to a halt in the middle of the street.

“I’m serious. I know you wanna be the best meister you can be, but you’re too stuck in your own head to realize how fucked I would be without you as my partner.” He quiets in a way that means he’s gathering his words, and Maka listens with bated breath.

“You’re the smartest and bravest person I know, okay? And you’re also a reckless moron who pulls some of the craziest shit in battle that I’ve ever seen in my life. It sucks that I have to keep saying this to you, but I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it. The only reason I ever had a prayer of becoming of a Death Scythe was because you’ve been my meister. Stop thinking that you’re not good enough, because you’re better than every asshole at the party. You did something they never could and now never will be able to do.”

Maka closes her eyes for a few heartbeats, allowing this to sink in. Even now, at 2am with the sky pitch dark because of the blackened moon, it’s hard to imagine that she was involved in that fight. She helped save the world and she’s still convinced that she’s somehow not good enough. Maybe Soul’s right, and what they have could only be accomplished with the two of them together. Maybe no one else matters but her and Soul.

“Soul? Transform for me, will you?”

Without hesitation, Soul morphs back into human form, holding her now on piggyback instead of on his weapon form. The shift from being supported by his handle to hanging off his backside is so natural that Maka doesn’t even have to think about it, just adjusts her arms so they’re tighter across his shoulders. She presses her face into the side of his neck in gratitude.

“You always know what to say, you know that?”

Soul snorts and hops a little to scoot her higher up his back. “It’s easy when your soul is practically screaming at me what you’re upset about.” He starts walking again, refusing to put her down because of his stubborn insistence that she’ll hurt her feet. “So. Party sucked for you too, then?”

Now it’s Maka’s turn to snort. All of a sudden the night’s whole emo conclusion feels very overstated. She feels foolish for being so dramatic but remembers that Soul thinks she’s strong even when she’s a drama queen. Depends on her even when she gets caught up in her own head. The reminder calms her soul down considerably.

“Think I drank too much,” she says, nestling closer to his back and laying her arms heavily over his shoulders to remain balanced. “Ox said some dumb shit about me being the weaker partner and it made me sad.”

“Alcohol is a depressant,” Soul says, kind of snooty. He’s repeating what she’s told him on his Moody Drinking nights.

“Wait a minute,” Soul says. “Did you say Ox? Who the fuck is he to talk about being a weak partner?”

“I thought you said you don’t care what anyone thinks about us.”

“Yeah, but that was before I found out it was fucking Ox Ford who was talking down to you. I could totally take his ass in fight.”

Maka laughs for the first time all night. Soul continues ranting all the way home about how he’s going to beat Ox’s face in the next time he saw him (he won’t) and Maka thinks that maybe real strength is remembering that you always have someone on your side.

#soma #soul x maka #soul eater #soul eater evans #maka albarn #like its not the BEST thing ive ever written but damn kelly you could have at least POSTED IT #se fic #my writing

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shera-dnd · 3 years

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Face Turn - The Finisher

Here we are, folks. After nearly two months we have reached the big finale.

What started as just a silly prompt from Freezerburn week 2020 has now turned into nearly 20k words of some fun gay shit, and it’s now finally ending

Gotta say it was nice having stuff to write out of love again and not just to pay the bills. Can’t wait to finish my next little project, so I can share it with you nerds.

Spoilers: it’s more RWBY AU shit, because I got back into this show again someone help me

ANYWAY here’s the AO3 link and let’s get on with the fic

The kiss had been a stupid and impulsive spur of the moment decision, but she hoped she managed to sell it like she’d been planing this the whole time. The mix of cheers and boos from the crowd told her she did a good job at that at least.

Yang lying on the floor and laughing her ass off like an idiot was also proof that she did a fantastic job today.

She shook her head at her favorite dumbass as she climbed down next to her, offering her a hand.

“Aww, you really wanna break kayfabe just for me?” Yang teased.

“Who said I’m breaking shit?” She taunted back as she yanked her up with a single pull.

“Kiss me again,” Weiss whispered to her.

“I’m not sure that’s gonna help with the rumors”

“I don’t care,” she insisted. She didn’t want to look like some creepy predatory lesbian trope to the audience, so she needed to show that she didn’t do that just to win, “we’ll just flip the fans off while we do it.”

Now that earned a smile from Yang.

She held Weiss’s face with one hand and flipped the crowd off with the other as she leaned forward for a kiss.

After retreating backstage the first thing they heard was the last thing they wanted anywhere near them. A very angry Blake Belladonna.

“I spent hours arguing with the other writers to let Yang win this, and you two just had to go and pull that on me!” She shouted as she marched up to the two of them, “if that kiss hadn’t been such a genius move, I’d be kicking both your asses right now.”

“Phew!” Yang exclaimed, happy that she would get to keep her hide, “no more out of script kissing, I promise.”

Weiss turned to glare at her after that comment and she quickly amended.

“In the ring, ice queen, in the ring.”

“Good,” Weiss nodded and then gave her another kiss, for positive reinforcement.

Blake cleared her throat to get their attention again and wordlessly raised her brow in question. She looked more amused than surprised by this turn of events.

Yang hooked her arms around Weiss as they both turned to explain things.

“Well, you see--”

“Yang, what the hell!” Ruby’s familiar voice shrieked down the corridors. Her boots screeched as she broke her momentum to turn around and stare down her sister, “have you two been together this whole time!?”

They both blinked at her in surprise and looked at each other. By their smug grins it was clear that the two had been struck by the same terrible idea at the same time.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yang shrugged as she pulled Weiss closer to her.

“Yeah, it was all kayfabe stuff,” Weiss played along, brushing her hand over Yang’s arms.

“Ugh,” she groaned, “you guys are the worst!”

“What do you mean?” Weiss continued, turning to hook her arms around Yang’s neck.

She expected Yang to go in for the kiss, but instead she decided to surprise everyone, by poking Weiss’s nose with her own and nuzzling them together.

For a moment there Weiss was pretty sure she forgot how to breathe and maybe she took a little too long to recover from that.

“Ew ew ew!” Ruby stomped in place, “no. No more PDA allowed! You two already kissed in front of thousands of people! Twice!”

“Aww, aren’t you two adorable,” Blake commented, shaking her head at those two idiots, “come on, let’s hit the Fang. It looks like we got two wins to celebrate tonight.”

“Ugh, can we at least shower and change before that?” Weiss complained, not wanting to hit the bar in her smelly wrestling clothes.

“Fine,” Ruby replied, before adding, “separate showers you two!”

Weiss rolled her eyes as she left. Sure the idea of showering together sounded pretty nice, but for the actual showering together part, not whatever Ruby expected them to do without her interference.

By the time she was back from her - solo - shower, Yang had already finished getting ready and was now teasing poor Ruby relentlessly. The reason for all that teasing was the red haired woman standing next to her, trying really hard not to blush at everything unfolding around her.

That’s when Weiss decided that she was gonna be a little shit.

She put on her best Schnee scowl and marched up to the group.

“Who is the little shit?” She greeted in the tone she used for cutting promos.

“S-Salutations!” The woman stammered in surprise, “I’m Penny. I’m uh--Ms. Rose’s colleague.”

“And who the fuck is that?” She asked, trying not to laugh at how spooked the poor girl was.

Ruby was having exactly none of that.

“That’s my name, Weiss. I’m Ruby Rose,” she explained, “and stop trying to spook my friend!”

Well that was embarrassing.

“I thought you were a Xiao Long!”

“It’s complicated,” Yang interjected.

“Alright, alright,” Weiss dropped it, raising her hands in admittance of her defeat, before she turned to face their guest, “sorry for that. Hope you enjoyed the match though.”

“I did!” Penny answered with excitement, “it was very different from what I expected.”

“I could say the same,” Blake commented, “and I wrote it.”

“Alright, we get it,” Yang chuckled playfully, “you can roast us for it once we get some drinks.”

“Oh you two can bet your asses I’m gonna roast you,” she threatened, mostly as a joke. Mostly.

With that they made their way back to the White Fang, and Weiss couldn’t help but smile. It reminded her of what Yang had said, about the four of them - and now Penny - making the most of their time together.

Except this time Weiss wouldn’t leave - she had promised, after all - and this warmed her heart with a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long long time. Hope. That her future will be a bright and happy one.

It was almost funny to think, how from what felt like her darkest moment, came all this.

So she offered Yang her left hand and together they walked onwards to whatever their lives had in store.

#rwby #Freezer burn #freezerburn #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #wrestling au #fanfic

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averykedavra · 4 years

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Would You Be So Kind

@csi-baker-street-babes asked for a fluffy Logicality Human AU with a first kiss and a bit of angsty feels.

“A bit of angsty feels” means “a huge pile of angst,” right? Just clarifying.

Nah, I’m kidding. I actually used this fic as an excuse to be super soft and cliche. At heart I am just a small bean wanting to write happy love.

Also, I ended up thinking through this camp AU way too much. I might write more for it in the future. Let me know if you’re interested!

Thanks for the prompt! Reminder to everyone that I’m open to prompts! And if you want to be on my fic taglist, let me know!

You can find this fic on Ao3 here.

(Title is from Would You Be So Kind by dodie.)

Words: 4259

Pairing: romantic Logicality

Warnings: crying, rejection, repressing emotions, lying, self-deprecation, isolating oneself (but it gets fluffy again I swear), kissing

Summary: After years of pining, Patton finally asks out his crush. It...does not go as planned.

By the end of the summer, Patton Hart was going to ask out Logan Crofters.

He made that promise at the beginning of the first session, staring at the counselor schedule that announced, once again, that he’d be spending his summer side-by-side with Logan. They’d been co-counselors for three years in a row, three years that Patton had spent sneaking glances and stammering whenever Logan talked to him.

Why he kept getting paired with Logan, Patton didn’t know. Thomas said they “worked well together.“ Whether that was true or not, Patton did always have a lot more fun when Logan was around. (He also dropped a lot more things and tripped way more often, but that was okay.)

The facts were: he was going to be spending three sessions/nine weeks/fifty-six days with a very smart, very nice, very pretty man. And this year, instead of pining hopelessly, Patton was actually going to tell Logan how he felt. He was. No excuses. The time was right.

There was the itsy-bitsy fact that Patton had said that for two summers already. But this summer would be the summer! Patton knew it. Maybe he’d even ask Logan out during the first session, and they could spend the whole summer together. Thomas was okay with counselors dating each other as long as they kept things professional. They could hold hands on the hikes and sing campfire songs together and Patton could finally give him the More-Than-Friendship bracelet he’d made in Year Two of Being in Love with Logan Crofters.

(Patton was pretty sure he was in love. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t spend all school year waiting for his chance to come back to Camp Chickadee and hear Logan’s soft laugh as Patton tried to balance a spoon on the end of his nose.)

He loved Logan, and he was going to tell him. Half the camp knew about Patton’s crush, for Pete’s sake! It was only a matter of time until some well-meaning kiddo told Logan for him. Camp Chickadee might be surrounded by pine trees, but that was no excuse for Patton to keep pining.

The first session passed. Patton did not ask out Logan. He negotiated a prank war between Roman and Remus, learned a new chord on the ukelele, carved a dog, and taught Virgil how to bake blackberry pie. He signed up to lead as many activities as possible that involved Logan. Together, they led a bunch of hikes, lifeguarded together, went biking, made a catapult, and, on one memorable afternoon, crowned Turtle the dog (not to be confused with Dog the turtle, the other camp pet) Supreme Leader of All Rocks, Stones, and Boulders. Logan never objected to Patton’s company. He never asked for it either, but it was a start!

On the last day of the session, the whole camp had an hours-long mud fight, built a campfire, and sang songs together. Patton watched Logan across the fire, his eyes gleaming in the light, singing along to Yellow Submarine even though he always insisted he didn’t like to sing.

Next session, Patton told himself.

They went rafting together. They made bread together. They mastered the rope course backwards and frontwards. They wrote a story about Turtle the dog and her conquering of Asia. One camper asked if Logan and Patton were dating. Patton tried not to blush. Logan didn’t seem fazed by the question. Good sign? Bad sign? Patton didn’t know.

Before he knew it, it was the last week of session two. Patton was playing Texas hold’em with Logan, Virgil, Roman, and Remus. Janus and Thomas were leading the whole camp in a singalong by Giant’s Ridge. Patton and the other counselors were supposed to be brainstorming activities for session three, but Remus had dared Roman to beat him at cards and now here they were.

Patton frowned as he lost for the fourth time in a row. Virgil, Roman, and Logan gave him sympathetic looks. Remus cackled with delight and very little sympathy.

“Wanna play again?” Virgil asked after Remus had, once again, won the game.

“I’ll pass,” Patton said with a smile. “I’m not very good at it.”

“Practice makes progress,” Roman pointed out.

“I think I’m with Patton,” Logan agreed, placing his cards down and standing up. “We can think up some activity ideas while you play a few more rounds. You know, the thing we’re actually supposed to be doing.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m just gonna lead another search for the FBI base in the woods, Virgil will hunt for Mothman again, and you’ll do something boring like knitting. You’re all really predictable.”

Roman chuckled. “And what about me?”

“Talent show.”

“I hate that you’re right.”

“Still,” Patton said, “we should try to prepare stuff! Logan’s right, at least some of us should be brainstorming.”

Remus chuckled. “Of course you take his side.”

Patton tried very hard not to blush and didn’t really succeed. Fortunately, Logan didn’t seem to notice Remus’ comment. “We’ll be at the swing if you need us,” he said, giving them a nod. “Good luck, Remus.”

Amidst Roman’s offending spluttering and calls of “I thought you were on my side! Betrayal, heresy, et tu Brute” Logan and Patton walked to the swing. Patton usually lay sideways on the swinging bench, taking up more than half of it, but Logan was sitting on the other side with his hands over the side. Patton perched on the very edge of the swing and tried to put as much space between them as possible.

Then they brainstormed. Or, really, Logan brainstormed while Patton nodded along. He tried to think about activities, he really did, but Logan was right there and he moved his hands when he talked and his eyes sparkled when he thought of an idea he really liked and goodness, Patton was falling hard, wasn’t he?

“Patton!” Logan said, and Patton realized he’d been calling his name.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve hardly been paying attention.” Logan’s eyebrows drew together. “Is everything alright?”

“I...” Patton smiled. “Yeah! Of course! I’m just being spacey, is all. You know me--scatterbrained. Would forget my own head if it wasn’t on my feet!”

Logan frowned. “Your head is on your shoulders.”

“Oh, darn it! I knew I messed up something when I got dressed today!”

Logan chuckled, holding up his hand to cover the sound. Patton wished he wouldn’t. He loved that laugh, light and airy and so different than the serious image Logan always tried to show.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Logan asked again after his laughter died, and his voice was so concerned. Patton couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t! “If there’s...if you need to talk about anything with me, know that I am here to listen.”

Patton couldn’t stop his mouth from dropping open slightly. He probably looked flabbergasted, gobsmacked, and all sorts of interesting words. But he couldn’t help it! Logan was so nice! And they were making eye contact and Logan’s eyes were such a nice shade of brown...

“Patton?” Logan said again.

Oh no. He really needed to stop that.

The only way to stop it, said the voice in the back of his head that sounded kind of like Virgil, was to confess.

Patton reached into his pocket and his hands grasped the bracelet he’d made Logan last year. Blue and navy threads in the most complicated knot Patton knew, looped around a few red beads. A More-than-Friendship bracelet. A gift.

“I...” Patton swallowed. “Logan?”

“Yes?”

“I have something for you?”

He didn’t mean for it to be a question, but his voice squeaked at the end. Well. Good enough.

Logan looked confused, probably because they’d gone from a heartfelt conversation to...this. “What is it?” he finally asked.

Patton steeled his nerves and held out the bracelet.

“Another friendship bracelet?” Logan laughed a little, and Patton knew he was projecting but it sounded like such a fond laugh. “Patton, I don’t think I have room left on my arms.”

“It’s...not exactly. A friendship bracelet.” Patton shifted. His hands were all sweaty and he just wanted to bury himself in the dirt. Why did he think this was a good idea?

“Then what is it?” Logan asked. Innocent. Completely unaware of the anguish Patton was experiencing.

It wasn’t too late. He could call it a co-counselor bracelet or a best-friends bracelet or a bracelet to ward off evil spirits. He could call it anything! He could still get out of this!

But some brave, foolish part of Patton remembered that he only had a month until he wouldn’t see Logan for a whole school year. Only a month to do this. Only a month.

“It’s a...it’s an I-like-you bracelet?”

Logan blinked. “A what?”

“An I-like-you bracelet.” Patton tried to smile. “‘Cause I...I like you? Romantically? I like-like you? I have for a while now, I guess? I thought I’d...I dunno, let you know?”

His voice kept squeaking. Patton decided he’d dug his hole deep enough and shut his mouth.

“You like me,” Logan repeated, expression unreadable.

“Yes,” Patton said, bracing for an explosion. Preparing himself for Logan to yell at him, reject him, say he was creepy and he didn’t want to be friends anymore. Trying not to hope. Trying not to let himself hope. Why did he ever think Logan would like him back? Why was he that naive? Right now, sitting in the sun, his dreams of holding hands and singing songs together seemed childish, foolish, and unreachable.

“Thank you,” Logan said, “for telling me.”

Patton still couldn’t get a read on Logan. His voice was blank and his face was more so. Usually Patton could tell what Logan was feeling, even though he tried to hide it, but now? Patton was lost.

“You’re welcome?” Patton asked. Squeaking again. He was just a little mouse, wasn’t he?

Logan opened his mouth, closed it again, and slipped his hand around Patton’s. Carefully, he lowered Patton’s hand to the bench. They sat that way for a second, Logan’s hand covering Patton’s, Patton’s clenched around the bracelet.

And somewhere, beneath the panic and the doubt and the resignation, something settled. This felt right, so right, like he’d slotted together two puzzle pieces and realized what the picture was supposed to be. He was sure his hand was sweaty and gross and of course it was really awkward because Logan hadn’t actually told Patton what he thought...but they were holding hands. Kinda sorta maybe holding hands.

Then Logan’s hand slipped off Patton’s and Logan was standing up, brushing off his shirt.

“I think,” he said slowly, “it’s best if we don’t talk for a while.”

Patton felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “What?”

“I’m sorry. I just think...I think it would be easier on us.” Logan cast him a sympathetic look. “I do appreciate you, Patton, as a friend. I hope you realize that.”

Oh.

A lump was growing in Patton’s throat. No. He wouldn’t cry. Not here, not now, not ever.

“Okay,” he forced out, trying to smile.

Logan gave him a final nod and walked towards the picnic tables, where Roman and Remus and Virgil were still playing cards. Logan slipped onto the bench and they passed him some cards without hesitation. He didn’t look back at Patton. Not once.

Patton? He curled up on the bench, tucked his head between his knees, and tried his best not to cry.

But his best was never good enough.

So he ended up crying into his cargo shorts, alone on a swinging bench in the summer sun.

Third session came, and for the first time ever, Patton wished the summer was over.

He loved Camp Chickadee. He did! He loved the campers and his fellow counselors and Thomas and the beautiful woods around them. He loved choosing activities and making friends and exploring the trails around camp. He loved baking treats and counting stars and singing his favorite camp songs. He’d been going to Camp Chickadee since he was four or five. It was his favorite place in the whole wide world.

And third session wasn’t even that bad! He investigated some FBI activity in the woods with Remus and got to be a secret agent! He hunted down Mothman with Virgil and sang songs in the Talent Show with Roman and even managed to get through a carving session with Janus. Janus and him didn’t really get along, but anyone was better than Logan.

Logan, who’d barely looked at him all session.

They were still co-counselors, of course. They still managed their ragtag group of kiddos together. But they never spoke to each other unless it was professional, and whenever they could, Logan avoided Patton altogether.

Patton hated it.

Logan was his best friend. They knew each other’s middle names and favorite colors and least-favorite colors and secretest dreams. They texted occasionally throughout the school year, but somehow Patton never grew tired of Logan or found someone else in his college. Somehow he always came back to Camp Chickadee and Logan’s laugh and a place he really belonged.

And yes, Patton had a crush. And yes, Logan didn’t have to reciprocate it. Friendship wasn’t a consolation prize! He would have been disappointed if Logan didn’t like him back, but as long as they could stay friends, it would have been okay.

This, though...this was isolation from the person he cared most about. This was Logan shutting him out. This was going cold turkey on one of Patton’s most precious friendships.

Patton spent a lot of time in the camp bathroom, trying to cry as quietly as possible.

He was pathetic, really. Like a little kid back in elementary school. He still kept that bracelet in his pocket. Every day he woke up and stared at the cabin ceiling and hoped against hope that Logan would decide that they could be friends again. Every day he said hello to Logan, hoping Logan would say hello back, hoping he would smile.

Logan always just nodded and turned away, and the knife inside Patton’s heart twisted a little deeper.

The campers didn’t seem to notice the difference. Patton was still full of dad jokes and sunshine, putting up a perfectly crafted facade. Logan was still an expert on all flora and fauna, able to spot a bird from a mile away. Patton still sang every camp song he knew. Logan still recited the elements from memory. They were still the same.

Just...they couldn’t work off each other anymore. Patton couldn’t make Logan laugh with his puns, Logan couldn’t remind Patton of the lyrics he forgot, they couldn’t build off a story together or make up a game together or comfort a kiddo together. Logan was smart and logical and calm, Patton was energetic and sunny and creative. When they worked together, they could do anything. When they didn’t, they were just two different people with different ideas and different lives.

The campers didn’t notice the difference, but Patton did.

And the other counselors did.

“Are you...good?” Virgil asked when he saw Patton curled up under a tree, staring at his feet.

“Yeah, of course!”

“What’s up between you and Specs?” Roman asked after a very awkward singalong where Logan and Patton ended up sitting next to each other.

“Nothing!”

“Is everything alright with you?” Thomas asked during a camp meeting, after Patton chose to work with Janus instead of Logan. “Did something happen?”

“Of course not!” Patton smiled.

“Really? Because--”

“We’re fine, Thomas,” Logan interrupted, voice cold. “Let’s move on.”

They moved on, but Patton got many concerned glances throughout the meeting. He tried his best to field them with smiles. Nobody seemed very convinced.

“Are you mad at Logan?” asked Mia, a seven-year-old with a butterfly t-shirt and a gap between her front teeth.

“No!” Patton insisted.

And that was the truth. As much as Patton wanted to be mad at Logan, as much as he wanted to be furious, he just wasn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to even be annoyed with Logan Crofters. Maybe that made him weak. Pathetic. Soft. But that was the truth. Patton didn’t like hating anyone, and hating Logan was simply impossible.

He busied himself with tents and hikes and tried not to think about everything too hard.

And soon it was the last week of the session. And Patton was dealing with his usual oh-no-the-summer-is-almost-over-I’ll-have-to-go-back-to-college-and-study-instead-of-picking-wildflowers-with-my-adorable-kiddos sadness, but he almost felt relief. He could go back to school now. He could hang out with his school friends and maybe get a new crush and not have to think about this anymore.

Still, he would miss Virgil and Remus and Roman and Thomas and maybe Janus. They started a group chat together, but it wasn’t the same. Roman had added Logan to the group chat. Logan had immediately left. He said he just didn’t like group chats, but Patton knew what it was really about.

The last day of Camp Chickadee, it rained. Poured, in fact. The kiddos dashed to their cars in yellow and red raincoats, giggling and shoving each other in the mud. The pine trees dipped, water sloughing off the branches and splashing on the paths. The drum-drum-drum on the lodge roof was interspersed with goodbyes and hugs and a few tears. Patton wished each of his kiddos the best of luck and tried not to cry too much.

Finally it was just the counselors, standing together in the chilly, damp Lodge, looking out at the rainy woods. The campfire was soaked, the swings dripping, the air fresh and tangy with the scent of rain.

“I should go,” Logan said, getting up from the chair in the corner.

“You sure?” Virgil looked disappointed. “Can’t you hang with us a little longer?”

“I have to pack for the move,” Logan said like that made sense. “Sorry.”

Roman frowned. “You’ll be back next year, right? I don’t care if you have to drive across the country, you’re coming back.”

Logan huffed and smiled. “I’ll see, Roman.”

“You’d better.” Roman paused and leaned forward, giving Logan a huge hug. “You’re the best, nerd.”

Logan patted Roman on the back. “I enjoy your company as well. Prep.”

“Hug time!” Remus leaped onto Logan’s back. Virgil crept around sideways and squeezed Logan’s waist, and even Janus gave Logan’s shoulder a squeeze. Thomas watched them with a smile. Patton watched them without a smile. What was happening?

Finally Logan extricated himself. Thomas reached out a hand and Logan shook it.

“We’ll miss you,” Thomas said. “You’ve been a great counselor.”

“Thanks,” Logan said, giving him a small smile. “I’ve loved it here.”

Thomas nodded. He looked like he was trying not to cry. Logan reached down and swung his backpack over his shoulders before walking out the door into the rain.

The other counselors watched him go.

“Um,” Patton whispered. “Guys?”

Virgil glanced over. “Yeah, Pat?”

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Virgil looked confused. “Hey, why didn’t you say goodbye to him? I know you guys are going through a rough spot, but I thought he’d want to see you before he left.”

“But we’ll see each other next summer,” Patton said. “Right?”

Virgil’s face fell. “You mean he didn’t tell you?”

All the counselors were looking at him with sympathy. Patton didn’t know what was happening. Was Logan leaving? Where was he going? Had Patton been so terrible that he drove off Logan for good?

“He’s moving away,” Roman said softly. “He finished college last semester and he’s moving to his new job.”

“What?” The room was spinning. “What--how long have you known?”

“He told us a couple weeks ago,” Thomas added, looking at Patton with concern. “I assumed you knew as well, you’ve always been so close--”

“I--” Patton shook his head, glancing at the open door. “I--I need to--”

“Pat?” Virgil asked.

Before he could stop himself, Patton bolted out the door and into the rain.

The water immediately drenched him. His curls stuck to his face, his clothes plastered to his skin, his glasses covered with droplets. Patton fumbled with them and stuck them in his pocket. The world was blurry now, but he could see the vague shape of the driveway. As he approached, it was clearer. Logan was tossing his backpack in the trunk of his car and slamming the door, walking around to the front.

“Logan!” Patton yelled, skidding over a patch of mud and coming to a stop.

Logan turned around. He was soaked as well, rain running down his cheeks. “Patton? What--”

“You’re leaving,” Patton said.

“Oh.” Logan nodded, looking sheepish. “Yes?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well...that is to say, I--” Logan ran his hands through his hair. “I didn’t want to make a huge fuss about it.”

“A fuss?” Patton repeated. “Lo, I’m never going to see you again!”

“I’m only moving,” Logan protested, “and I might be able to come back next year anyway--”

“That doesn’t matter!” Patton’s eyes were burning, and not because of the rain. “Y-you’re my friend and you’re l-leaving and I get that I messed up and made things weird and you h-hate me, and that’s okay! That’s okay! I g-get it! But I-I’ve liked you for th-three years! You’re my b-best friend and I c-care about you even if you d-don’t c-care about m-me--”

He was crying now. Damn it! Patton swiped viciously at his cheeks. At least the rain hid his tears.

“So please,” Patton said, staring at Logan, “please just let me have this, okay? P-please let me say goodbye.”

Logan’s mouth was open. “Patton, I--”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Patton leaned forward and hugged Logan quickly around the shoulders. “I-I just wanted to do that. So...yeah. Um. Good luck.”

He pulled away and turned back toward the Lodge, giving Logan a final wave. Then a hand caught his own. Patton looked down to see Logan’s hand curled in his.

“What--” Patton looked back. Logan looked about to cry. “Lo?”

“Three years?” Logan repeated. “Patton, I thought it was just a crush, I--”

“You don’t need to...” Patton tried to tug his hand out of Logan’s grip. “It’s fine, really--”

“And I turned you down,” Logan said softly. “Patton, I--I didn’t realize how much you cared--”

“You don’t have to pity me,” Patton said miserably. “I get it. I-I made things weird. It’s fine. We-we don’t have to see each other ever again if you don’t want to--”

“Patton, can I kiss you?”

Patton’s train of thought stuttered to a halt. “What?”

“I--” Logan’s eyes were wide. “I like you, Patton! I like you a lot but I was going to move and I knew I’d just be leading you on and it would never work out long-term and I probably should have just told you that instead of isolating myself from you but I’ve never been able to handle these sorts of icky complicated emotions and Patton, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize how much it would affect you and--”

Patton swallowed. He wanted to pinch himself, see if he was dreaming, but the cold rain on his face told him otherwise.

Logan was rambling now, waving his hands, apologizing over and over and promising Patton that it was okay if Patton didn’t forgive him but he did really like him and Patton was funny and amazing and wonderful and deserved the world and Patton was just standing there, his hand still in Logan’s, heart filling up with joy.

And when Logan reached a pause, Patton stood up on his tippy-toes and kissed Logan.

Logan made a little squeak of surprise. But his hands wrapped around Patton’s waist and he kissed back. His wet hair dripped down Patton’s face and their mouths kept slipping out of each other’s and it was messy and cold and Patton was still crying a little bit but Logan was holding onto Patton and Patton had one hand on Logan’s cheek and another tangled in his hair and despite the cold and the rain and the circumstances Patton could just stand here forever and that would be perfectly, absolutely fine.

Finally Logan pulled away for breath, leaning his forehead on Patton’s. Patton giggled a little when he saw Logan, glasses fogged up, hair askew.

“This won’t be easy,” Logan muttered, searching Patton’s eyes. “Long-distance relationships are more complex and less likely to be successful--”

“Lo.” Patton pressed a quick kiss to Logan’s nose. “I’m willing to try if you are.”

Logan breathed and smiled wider than Patton had ever seen him. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Patton reached into his pocket and pulled out that same blue-and-red bracelet. “Um...then, Logan Crofters, do you take me to be your lawfully wedded boyfriend?”

Logan laughed against Patton’s nose. “I do.”

Patton slipped the bracelet over Logan’s hand. “Oh no, it’s loose!”

“That’s okay.” Logan took Patton’s hand and slipped it into his so the bracelet surrounded both their wrists. “More room for us.”

Patton giggled. “Now we’re stuck together, Lo,”

Logan pressed a kiss to Patton’s hand. “Good.”

Patton giggled even more, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder. He was probably blushing furiously, but he found that he didn’t care. “You’re such a softie.”

“Don’t tell anyone.”

Patton smiled. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

And even though Logan had packing to do, they stood there for a long time, arms around each other, until the rain finally stopped and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

It was the end of the summer, but the beginning of something even more wonderful.

Fic Taglist:

@most-likely-fandom

@the17thmeatball

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creampuffqueen · 4 years

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Broken Jars - Sukka Week Day 1

hello everyone!!! this is my very first atla fic i’ve ever written, and i’m super excited to share it with y’all!! this is why i didn’t participate in tlc shipweeks lol, i’ve been super busy trying to get stuff for sukka week because these kiddos need more content!!

the prompt for today was post-canon, so i wrote what i write best: a kid fic. rip to whoever said suki died young because that’s not possible. she and sokka got married and live a quiet life on kyoshi island to raise their babies.

anyway, hope y’all enjoy!!

word count: 2,418

~~~~

The house is so silent when Suki walks in, carefully removing her headdress, taking off the thick gloves of her uniform. Silence isn’t something she’s used to anymore.

It’s later than she normally gets home, the sun high in the sky and sweltering at this time of year. She has to resist swiping a hand over her sweaty brow, lest the face paint rubs off.

She had stayed late at the dojo, after a younger student practically got on her knees and begged for an extra lesson, desperate to keep up with the older girls. Suki couldn’t say no.

Normally when she gets home the house is joyful chaos, the by-product of two four-year-olds fully rested from a good night’s sleep and energetic from their lunch. Now, the only sounds to be heard are the creaking of the floorboards and… is that snoring?

She finds the source a moment later, chuckling softly to herself when she finds her husband asleep on the couch, laundry strewn about in the process of folding, looking for all the world like he just intended to rest his eyes for a moment.

“Sokka,” She croons gently, leaning over his sleeping form to drop a soft kiss on his cheek. Those blue eyes of his flutter open, lips parting into a sleepy smile when he recognizes her.

“Hey,” He grins back, voice slightly hoarse from sleep. “Are you home early?”

She laughs at that, glancing over at the clock hanging over the bedroom doorway. “No, actually. I’m home late. Are the twins napping?”

Sokka lets out a loud groan, sitting up, rubbing his neck. “They should still be. I put them down about an hour ago. After Kolla stole Koda’s stuffed badger-mole and both of them started crying, I knew it was time.”

Suki shakes her head at that. “They both have the same stuffed badger-mole, why does she do that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. She just likes taking Koda’s stuff.”

Suki sits down on the couch beside him, resting her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I’m glad they’re both asleep. I always get home before their nap, and then we both have things to do.”

“Well, I have things to do.” Sokka snorts. “Laundry. Somehow they’ve managed to dirty more clothes than when they were babies, and that’s saying something.”

“So there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing?” Suki asks coyly, batting her eyelashes exaggeratedly. She drapes a leg over her husband’s lap, leaning into the couch.

“Absolutely nothing.” Sokka gives her that lopsided grin that makes her heart race, blue eyes full of amusement.

They stare at each other for only half a moment before Suki sighs, done with playing games, and pulls him down for a kiss.

“You got me.” He smiles against her mouth in a way that makes her heart swell, “I’d much rather do this than the laundry.”

She laughs as he kisses her, quick pecks on her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. Suki leans in to kiss his nose, and his smile increases tenfold.

It’s then that she notices the red stain on his lips, the white on his nose. And she giggles harder, shaking in his arms as she points it out.

“Great Spirits,” Sokka sighs, “how hot was it out there? Your makeup has never melted before.”

Suki doesn’t answer him, just presses more kisses around her face, laughing in hysterical delight at the red marks she leaves in her wake. Her husband rolls his eyes but lets her have her way, a small grin turning up the side of his mouth.

When the novelty finally wears off, Suki leans her head against his chest, still giggling slightly. “You need a bath.”

“Thanks for that,” He snorts. His fingers shoot to her side, tickling her even through the thick Kyoshi uniform.

Very few things make Suki come undone faster than when he tickles her. As much as she hates it, she is very ticklish, and Sokka uses this to his full advantage.

Even after years of elite training, the Kyoshi warrior is rendered completely helpless as her husband’s fingers dance on her sides and her stomach and underneath her arms, her squeals of laughter echoing off the walls of their home.

“You’re gonna make me wake them-” Suki manages to get out between the laughter, but Sokka ignores her, yanking off one of her shoes to have access to her sensitive feet.

She shrieks again, laughing so hard she can barely breathe, when something crashes to the floor in another room, shattering-

Both of them pause, eyes widening, both of their minds racing. Their bedroom, something fell, something broke-

“The twins!” Suki gasps out, frantic, hurling herself off the couch and towards the door, makeup still smeared, one shoe on. Her fans, which she hadn’t removed from her waistband, appear in her hands as she scrambles inside, searching for the intruder; nobody is getting near her babies. She can hear Sokka outside, running for the twins’ bedrooms, ready to gather up the toddlers and get out.

Even though the world has known peace for years now, the fear still lingers, and even now Suki and Sokka wake up in the middle of the night gasping, visions of fire and death and loss all they can see.

For Suki, it was so much worse after she had the twins.

Before, her nightmares were awful. Sokka, lifeless in her arms. Her friends, separated and in danger. And her warriors, taken from her, captured by Azula, tortured with lightning running through their bodies.

After Kolla and Koda were born, their tiny shapes were added to the mix.

It didn’t help that their birth was so traumatic. She and Sokka had prepared for one baby, had smiled at every little movement and kick they’d felt from the outside.

She went into labor, and it was long and it was hard and Spirits, it hurt, but in the end little Kolla came screaming her way into the world, waving her tiny fists, a warrior from the start.

But the pain didn’t stop. And by the time the midwives figured out what was going on, that there was another baby, it’s heartbeat was so, so slow. Koda slipped into the world and he was so, so quiet. And he was so, so small.

He was still, the tiniest baby Suki had ever seen, a head of brown hair to his twin’s auburn, and he was silent.

She’d felt her heart break, then. Shatter, like it never had before. That was her baby right there, her son, and he was so tiny and so still and the world was so wrong.

She couldn’t even hear her daughter’s screaming over the sound of her own sobs, the roaring in her ears as the world stood still and moved too fast at the same time.

I’m sorry, the midwife had said, wrapping him up in a towel and passing him so gently into her arms. He didn’t make it.

Sokka was holding Kolla then, and she cried and cried and cried, like her heart was breaking too, a piece of her that could never be replaced.

Then a miracle happened.

In the dead of night on a summer solstice, the moon was full. It shone through the window, illuminating the tiny face Suki held so carefully in her arms.

Koda started crying, then. Just like him, it was tiny and small, but every single wail healed another crack in Suki’s ruined heart. A single stripe of his baby-soft hair lightened, turned moon-white, as he continued crying.

Suki knew then, what had saved her baby. Who had saved her baby.

Thank you, Yue.

In the years that passed, Koda was always so much smaller than Kolla. He was shy and quiet and so thoughtful, while his twin was wild with energy, and loud loud loud.

Even with their differences, they were still best friends. It also helped that Koda was a waterbender- one of the only things he was better at than his sister. Kolla so admired it.

And all of these thoughts bombard Suki as she runs into the room, fans at the ready, thinking about how hard she’ll fight, what she’ll do to make sure her children are safe-

“Mommy’s home!” Kolla’s sweet voice chirps, and the four-year-old runs into her mother’s arms, not at all bothered by the makeup, the uniform, the fans.

Suki accepts the hug, just as Sokka runs into the bedroom, shouting for her. “Suki, the kids-”

“Daddy!” And then he, too, is put under the spell of his daughter.

Suki spots the source of the crash, eyes widening as they settle on Koda, attempting to hide behind the dresser. The boy’s whole face is covered in red and black, and a smashed pot of white face paint is shattered on the wooden floor.

Suki’s makeup.

She notices, too, that Kolla’s hands have white paint on them, as well as a smear of red on her eyelid, the paint all coming off on Sokka’s shirt as she hugs him.

“What are you two doing awake? I thought you were napping.” Suki sighs, sheathing the fans back into her waistband.

“Koda and me wanted to do our faces like Mommy!” Kolla says happily, bubbling with excitement as she shows off how she put the red paint on her face. “But Koko reached too far for the white and now it’s broken!”

“You told me to!” Koda protests, hiding his face behind the dresser. “I said we’d get in trouble.”

“Come here, both of you.” Suki leans down, holding out her hands for her shy baby boy. “I don’t want you two to get hurt on the pot, okay?”

Koda starts crying then, and Suki holds him close, not worried about the face paint. That stuff stays on, and even if it doesn’t, she cares far more about her baby than an easily washable uniform.

“Koko, don’t cry!” Kolla says earnestly, dragging Sokka over to them so she can hug her parents and her twin.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Mommy.” Koda blubbers.

“Hey, buddy, it was an accident, okay?” Sokka soothes. “We can clean it all up in no time. It’s going to be alright.”

Still, it takes all three of them to calm Koda down, and in the end Suki picks him up and cradles him like a baby while he sucks his thumb, and Sokka cleans up the smashed jar of makeup.

Koda and Kolla both still have the paint smeared all over, not to mention Sokka’s own red-stained face, and Suki is sure her own is a mess.

“Koda, would you like it if we all went down to the ocean?” Suki offers, smiling as the toddler instantly perks up. If nothing else could cheer him, the prospect of swimming always did. “We can all get on our swimsuits and wash off the face paint.”

“I wanna go swimming too, Mommy!” Kolla giggles, dancing around her ankles.

“Then let’s go!” Sokka scoops her up, and Suki follows him into the bathroom, where the twins’ swimsuits are kept. She helps them put them on while Sokka changes in the other room, and then they switch.

It’s still hot outside, but it helps that they walk together under the trees on the way to the little ocean cove. The area is small and shallow, perfect for little swimmers.

Kolla runs around excitedly, as always, while Sokka stays behind, smiling at Suki, hand clasped with her own. They walk hand-in-hand to the water, their kids running off to splash in it.

Relaxing in the warm cove, Suki tugs her husband close, grinning as she washes the makeup from his face with gentle strokes. Kolla squeals in the background as Koda splashes her, the two of them sitting on the sandy bottom and having the time of their lives.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” Sokka says cheekily, helping her to rub the face paint off.

“You may have mentioned it once or twice,” she laughs, thinking back to only this morning, where he pressed sleepy kisses over her body and whispered the words over and over in attempt to convince her to stay in bed. It almost worked.

“Well, let me mention it again. I love you, Suki.”

She can’t hide the smile and the tug in her heart that he produces. They’ve been together for years, married for a long time, and even have two babies. Still, she can’t help blushing like she did when she was just a teenager, brand new to love and diving into it headfirst.

“Stop, you’re gonna make me cry,” she sighs, laughter bubbling up. Overhearing their words, Kolla pushes her way in between them with a determined pout.

“Daddy, stop. Don’t make Mommy cry.” She has her hands on her hips in a way that reminds Suki a lot of Katara, but the expression is all Sokka. Koda trails over to see the commotion, draping himself into his father’s lap.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I was joking.” She soothes her daughter, and Kolla, satisfied, bounces back into the water to search for shells.

Sokka starts to clean up Koda’s face while Suki washes her own, then pulls her daughter back to wipe her down as well.

“I hope this is a lesson, you two.” Sokka chides, gently swiping his fingers over Koda’s cheeks to smooth off the smears of black face paint. “The makeup is for Mommy only.”

“But I’m gonna be a ‘Yoshi warrior too!” Kolla protests, attempting to squirm away from her mother.

“If you want to be a Kyoshi warrior when you’re older, my love, go ahead.” Suki tells her. “But right now you’re only four years old. You’ve gotta get a little bigger.”

Kolla pouts, but it’s soon forgotten in place of splashing her brother. Koda yelps, scrambling away, throwing out a hand behind him to send the water back at his twin.

Both kids clean, Suki lets them go free to work out their own differences. A moment later both toddlers are squealing with laughter, splashing water back and forth.

She glances back over at her husband, at Sokka’s fond look as he takes them in. Years ago, none of this was a possibility, not in a war-torn earth. The idea of a peaceful life, with someone they loved, friends all over the world, and now… two little ones to share it with.

Suki leans her head on her husband’s shoulder and smiles.

~~~~

there it is! i hope you all liked it! remember, reblogs >>>>> likes (not that i don’t appreciate likes as well!)

#avatar the last airbender #atla #sokka #suki #sukka #sukkaweek #sukkaweek2020 #sukka week #sukka week 2020

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evanescentdawn · 3 years

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Highlights of today’s writing:

—+311 to the khr/mp100 crossover! Where Tsuna’s haunted and consults Reigen. I kinda skip over a bit, because I wanted to quickly get to the Reigen part!!! It feels a bit off, writing tsuna from his pov, doesn’t feel like tsuna. So I might go over that again.

—Edited the Sanghee smut! Really satisfied with the progress. It’s just me finally writing up on all the things I had planned for this fic since I never really did. Only started it.

—+146 to the 8027 khr prompt thingy. Finally managed to word that beginning part which have been giving me trouble. Blergh. Tsuna’s pov doesn’t feel Tsuna to me quite though.

—New naruto wip! Inosai, and really having fun with this one. It’s coming nicely along. REALLY love how it’s building up, and idea. It’s just good stuff and I’m so satisfied.

—I don’t really ship ritshou but anyways, I was thinking about that when I got hit by an idea, and started writing....and wow, FINALLY wrote the Ritsu pov I always wanted to. It’s hilarious that I always manage to write for my not ships and sort of notps. I mean. I do like ritshou, just not interested it at as something I would look for it. Just acknowledge it, and nod. I much prefer them as a platonic ship. Anyways, this is utterly ridiculous. There’s this really ritsumob moment though that is really cute and I absolutely adore. Also shdjdkd I really love the tone of this fic??? Makes me laugh. Because the whole thing is ridiculous if I just think about it haha

—Started something, with no idea what it is yet, even a fandom or characters. Just—ideas who might be, but undeceive as always. Djkdkdkd. Oh a poll helped me decide! Got it down, now.

—This new wip makes me laugh so much. It’s shou & teru, and shou’s pov is so fun to write. I love that funky guy so, so much. Go crazy.

—New another ritsu wip!!! Don’t know what it is yet but it’s about confined spaces in the loosest sense. About being stuck, and Ritsu and Mob, of course. Because I’m incredibly weak to them. HEY, I FINISHED IT?? it went completely craxy, haha and in a direction i didnt expect but its been reallyyy fun. Gonna let it rest before maybe posting it tomorrow.

—Aoex new wip. DAD!RIN. I love that boy so much. He’s so precious and god, him as a dad? When I saw that post on that movie I couldn’t resist and write something. Might be Rinshi, or poly, or something entirely. I HAVE NO CLUE. It turned out to be rinshi XD, and omg I finished it????

—+526 words to the OPM/MP100 reigen & saitama wip. Aaaa. I’m really, really loving this one. How it’s coming along. ITS SO GOOD. I love, love it. A lot of good lines which make me very happy and how it’s all coming along together. Kind of. Still loose ends! But I think I am nearly there.

—Sad, sad fic about Regien & regrets, with centre on his relationship with Mob. Exploring a world where things have very, very wrong and Reigen is regretting a lot and there’s a lot of consequences that can’t be rewinded. Dimple is in here and NO help. As always, but I love him very much anyways, and he does care. (As much as he tries to tell himself he doesn’t). And Reigen moving forward—trying. It’s a hopeful, angsty fic. And about striving forward. Lots of people broken.

—Literally eight mins left to the day but I couldn’t resist and hard to write this idea that’s been burning in my mind ever since I read Warehouse. An canon compliant that explores what if Sungho’s memories were actually completely wrong? There’s nothing canon to refute this. Like actually evidence that his memories were real. So. I took it and ran with it.

#ignore me; im rambling #highlights #today was crazy #i almost lost track of what the hell i was writing #I WROTE APPROX 5K ALL TOGATHER #absolutely crazy #queue I hate you #19th June

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julessworldd · 4 years

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Hey!!! First of all, your writing is top tier 💗 Second, may I request a fic using two prompts? If yes, could you do "You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did!" and "What do you want me to say?" for Izzy? Tysmia 😘

I can do that, love! Thank you for your sweet words, anon. They mean lot <3

Warnings: Implied smut, slight smut ,cussing, possible pregnancy, Izzy being a jackass

special apperance by baby rose ;), just had to write a side story on Little Rose universe..

Hanging out with Guns at a bar can go one or two ways.. Axl fights a dude over something was said or I have to take the whole band home and help them undress and pray that they don’t choke on their own puke. That was before I started falling for Izzy, damn boy made feel so safe and loved. Duff discovered my liking to Izzy after catching me a couple times, watching the dark haired boy with a groupie at a bar. Duff kept his mouth shut to the band and other people who knew Izzy.

Saturday night, after a show, same thing. Y/n was with Guns at a bar, girls surrounded them in the VIP area. Axl and Slash wanted to buy it for the night, which made it easier for me to watch them. Last time, we stopped at a bar, Duff got us banned for life for trying to chug two bottles of vodka on the pool table. It was a nice bar in Atlanta too. This time, Duff was making out with his girlfriend, Axl had a girl or groupie on his lap stroking his hair, Slash taking shots with Steven at the bar. Finally, Izzy was with a blond chick, she was kissing his neck while he gripped her ass from the tight skirt she wore. Izzy opened his eyes, meeting mine, he smirked before pulling the girl to the floor. “Y/n, Y/n/n”, Duff’s girlfriend, Janie yelled at me. “Huh what?”, I broke eye contact and turned to Janie. “Izzy got you again?”, Janie asked, leaning into Duff’s chest. “That obvious, huh?”, I blushed. “Yeah, babe. Izzy’s in a weird place right now, I think he likes more than you think. He just has a weird way of showing emotions.”, Janie smiled. “Thanks, Janie. I like your dress by the way”, I smiled at the red head girl. Decided on getting a couple shots of whiskey, knowing what Izzy was gonna do with that girl got me upset. “Hey”, a low familiar mid-western voice said behind me. “Oh girl didn’t satisfy Mr.Stradlin?”, I rolled my eyes. “Please like you wouldn’t have pushed her away if I gave you the chance”, Izzy smirked. “What makes you think that?”, I smirked, the 4th whiskey shot gave me confidence. “I see the way you look at me, when I’m on stage you watch my fingers and a few times my ass. I’m not stupid, baby”, Izzy whispered in my ear. Couldn’t have explained the noise that escaped my throat, Izzy liked it though.

I woke up the next morning, in bed with Izzy. I really hope Janie got the rest of the boys home safe and Izzy used protection.

“Uh hey”, Izzy had walked into the kitchen, where I was making breakfast.

“Morning, you hungry?”, I asked. “No, I’m gonna head out. Thanks for letting me crash here”,Izzy mumbled. “Alright. No problem, Iz”, I said, feeling a pang of anxiety flow into my chest.

Next two weeks, Izzy was avoiding me like the plague, going the other way at parties, ignoring me when I wanna talk to him in general. Izzy and Janie were close, I decided to ask her about Izzy and if he’s being like this because we slept together. “Hey Janie, can I ask you something?”, I asked. “Yeah, sure. What’s up, Y/n?”, Janie laid a stack of papers down and gave me her undivided attention, “Izzy probably told you we slept together two weeks ago, you know that party in Calabasas?”, I sighed. “No! You’re joking”, Janie’s eyes were the size of golf balls. “Nope! I don’t remember what happened if it was hand stuff or full on sex. I’m not pregnant, so calm down. He’s been ignoring me non-stop, I was wondering if he had said anything to you about our night together. Did he?”, I asked. “No, Y/n he hasn’t. Izzy has always been weirdly quiet about his private life, especially since we moved out of our apartment by the strip. I’m sorry”, Janie gave a small smile. “Okay, uh thank you, Janie. Band keeping me busy today?”, I asked, mentally sighing in defeat or happiness. Couldn’t tell which one. “Not really, if you count Duff trying to get me pregnant every time I come into the room”, Janie rolled her eyes at the comment about the crazy blonde.

“Hey Janie? Oh hi, Y/n”, Izzy asked, looking at me and the floor. “Yeah Iz?”, Janie turned to Izzy. “Axl needs you for an opinion about his and Duff’s song”, Izzy blew out his cigarette smoke. “Okay. See ya around, Y/n”, She smiled at me, before going by Izzy. Janie left the room, tension in the room went through the roof. Izzy shuffled from foot to foot, I stared at my shoes.

“This is awkward, see ya round Y/n”, Izzy was about to leave. “Wait! Can we talk, please?”, I said, making Izzy jump at the sound of my voice. “Sure, what’s up?”, Izzy asked, setting his cigarette pack in his jacket pocket. “About that night, uh how much do you remember? I mean did we actually do anything?”, I asked. “We did fuck, if that’s what you mean. Just remember making out in the bathroom, we went into your room, clothes were off. I think you were top, maybe I was just drunk”, Izzy said. “Okay, did you uh?” “Did I what?”, izzy asked, staring into my eyes. “Did we use protection? I was out of my birth control and was gonna get it the Monday after.”, I asked, biting my lip.

“Yeah, I think I hit the sheets. Look if you are, I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll pay for you know, if you do decide that.”, Izzy said, with calmness in his voice. “I’m a few days away from my monthly, guess in another two weeks I’ll let you know.”, I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Izzy nodded and excused himself back to the band, I left and headed to the drug store, Izzy’s comment got into my head.

Two weeks later, I opened the door to Izzy.

“I can’t get you out of my head, the thing we did that night. You’re all I think about, hell I wrote a song about you. Jane, thinks I’m losing my damn mind. Maybe she’s right”, Izzy walked in, pulling at his hair.

“Hi, Izzy. Good to see you, come in”, I slammed my door. “Are you pregnant? Please tell me, woman”, Izzy pleaded. “No, I’m not. You’re in the clear”, I rolled my eyes.

Izzy claimed he don’t want to remember our night together

“God, Izzy you act like I’m filled with a million stds. You’re not becoming a father, so chill”, I said. “I can’t” I sighed, arms dropping to my side, “You can’t keep pretending it didn’t happen, cause guess what? It did” “What do you want me to say?”, Izzy asked. “Nothing. Just knowledge that it happened, Iz. Stop acting like I’m the fucking plauge, can we hang out again? You know maybe talk about how our relationship is now. Will it happen again or we continue on with our lives. You’re not the only one, who is scared.”, I said, walking over to him. Izzy looked at me, before grinning. “Um, Janie and I were talking the other night, when she had Sarah one night. I have uh- feelings for you. Sleeping together made my night, but I also worried that it fucked up our friendship. I’m sorry that I brought my stupid feelings for you.”, Izzy shuffled his feets, playing with his pointer finger. “Iz, I like you too”, I grinned, kissing his cheek. “Really?” “Yes, jackass. Wanna go out sometime soon?”, I smiled. “Love too. You wanna go now?”,Izzy grinned.

#prompt request #izzy stradlin x reader #Izzy Stradlin #Janie Rose

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benkouji726 · 4 years

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Five times they behaved liked an old married couple and one time they really were

Written for MalexWeek 2020, Day 2. Fic Prompt: Trope Day.

Summary: They found their way back together.

The fic actually contains 2 tropes: 90% of “The Old Married Couple” and 10% of “Shipper on Deck” because I like cliches SO MUCH.

------------------------

1. Bickering

They had been staring at each other across the booth in Crashdown for five minutes now.

Michael broke down first. “Looks like they all bail on us.”

Alex snorted. “Gee, what clued you in? Is it the fact that we’ve been sitting here for half an hour now and still no one showed up? Or the texts we JUST received from our so-called friends declaring they all have to ‘BAIL ON US’?” He even made the air quote gesture, the bastard.

So something crawled over someone’s ass and died today. “Really? Your are gonna be like this.”

Alex ignored him. Great.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asked, and pathetically hoped Alex would say no. Because even a snappy Alex was still better than no Alex at all.

Alex answered his question with a question. Of course he did. “Do YOU want to leave?”

Michael shook his head, and decided to throw in some moment of truth. “Honestly? I think they set us up, because in the past two weeks I may or may not have whined many times to them about how much I missed you.”

Alex seemed oddly angered by that. “Well, you sure have a funny way of showing that. Because last time I checked, my phone number is still the same, and I go to the same bar and the same diner on a daily basis, safe to say I’m not the hardest person to find.”

Michael muttered something under his breath.

“What is that? I crack code, I don’t read lips.”

“I said I didn’t want to see you dating someone else!” Shit. That was a mistake.

Alex froze for a moment, then he said, slowly. “You mean you don’t want to see me dating after you and my best friend ended your relationship which lasted almost ONE YEAR right in front of me?”

Michael deflated. “OK. That’s fair. But I really missed you. Can’t we just like, be friends? We’re still friends, right?” He might sound a little too desperate, but he honestly didn’t care anymore.

“I don’t know, Michael”, shit, why did he always have this chill when Alex called his first name? It’s like Pavlovian reaction at this point. “How do we do it? Say ‘what’s up, bro’ every time we see each other?”

So he really was gonna be like that. Well, takes two to tango.

“Or we could, you know, discuss our mutual dislike of the disgusting eating habit of dipping the fries in the milk shake thing”, he pretended to think for a moment, “oh, sorry I forgot. It’s only MY dislike.”

Alex smiled at that. He took a fry, dipped it into his milkshake, threw it into his mouth, chewed, swallowed, and then said, still smiling sweetly, “Yet you screamed so loud that one time when I dipped your cock into the milkshake and licked it clean.”

Michael choked on his clean, fry-crumbs-free milkshake. “You are not playing fair.”

“And you’re surprised? I didn’t climb the military ladder so fast by being nice.” Alex smirked.

Michael smirked right back. “Yeah, you’re kind of a sore loser. You didn’t speak to me for two days when I beat you at Mario Kart”.

“That’s because you cheated!”

“How does one cheat at MARIO KART?”

“I don’t know! Maybe you used your Tele...” Alex stopped himself abruptly when their waitress appeared to ask them if they needed some refill.

They both declined and headed right back into their argument about who was the better gamer.

When Michael finally stood up to get their bills (they argued about who should pay the bills too, Michael won), it was already two hours later, and they both had a big smile on their faces.

Alex watched Michael go to the cashier, a little too intensely, so he didn’t notice the little old lady at first, she had to wave her hand in front of him to get his attention.

He turned to her, confused. “Uh, can I help you?”

She patted on his shoulder. “My husband and I were like this too”, she said, wistfully, “we used to bicker all the time, but our hearts were in the right place”, she looked at Michael’s direction and back to Alex, “you and your young man are gonna be just fine.” She patted him once more, and went away.

Huh.

——————————————

2. Finishing each other’s sentences

They were at the supermarket together when Alex said, “why...”

“Does Liz need so many eggs? Beats me. She said she needs them to do some kind of experiment, but I highly suspect it.”

“And why...”

“Did she send us to get these? According to her, we need the legwork and some fresh air because she said and I quote, you are talking in codes and I reek of oil at this point.”

“I’m...”

“Getting a little annoyed by me right now? You want me to stop finishing your sentences? Well, it’s not my fault you are this predictable.” He was asking for trouble, Michael knew. But he couldn’t help it. Alex and Forrest had broken up for a week now, and Alex still didn’t tell him, he had to be informed by Izzy, it was a little irritating.

Alex narrowed his eyes. “You think you know me so well.”

“Apparently I do.” He smiled innocently.

“You’re not that complex either, you know”, Alex stepped forward, right into his personal space, “I can read you like an open book.”

So it was game on.

For the next two weeks, they were trying their best to beat each other to the punch, finishing each other’s sentences, sometimes even saying things before the other could even open his mouth.

Kyle snapped at last.

“Would you PLEASE stop?” He groaned, “We get it. You’re dating now and you are stupidly in love and you know each other SO WELL. Just, get a room, OK? Other people are still trying to find their soulmates or something.”

“We are not...” They spoke at the same time.

“Great, you’re upgrading to saying things unanimously now?” Kyle threw his hand into the air. “I give up.”

They both blushed. Unanimously.

——————————————

3. Touching casually

They were both leaning onto the table to study some printed out files from another secret government agency that Alex found and hacked, Alex was writing out code patterns to determine which one fit the file, when Michael suddenly discovered something.

In a hurry to write down his thoughts, he didn’t try to get another pen. He reached out, grabbed Alex’s pen-holding hand, and wrote down a keyword. His head bowed beneath Alex’s chin, some of his curls brushed his face, so Alex used his free hand to brush it away, he lingered a moment there, as Michael finished writing the word but his hand stayed there, thumb gently rubbing Alex’s in a slow circle.

Then Alex pulled away, and they continued discussing the file.

Things escalated real fast after that.

At first it was just a hand on the back, a pat on the shoulder, that sort of things. But then they often stood near enough that their hips were touching, Michael sometimes threw his arm around Alex’s shoulder when they were laughing together, or Alex would play with Michael’s hair when they were sitting on the same side of the booth, listening to their friends or talking to them. It was nothing sexual, they were friends, friends stayed in each other’s personal space ALL THE TIME, right?

Then one day, they were having a group movie night. They decided to sit on the sofa, so naturally no one else wanted to sit on it. With that much room, they sat down, a foot or so between them.

Halfway through the movie though, Alex was rubbing his right knee. Michael took one glance at him, and immediately sat beside him. He lifted Alex’s right leg onto his left, and put his hand on Alex’s knee. Alex let out a moan.

The whole group was looking at them now. Alex blushed.

“I, his hand...” Alex took a breath and regained some control back, “you all know aliens run hot right? His hand is like a thermos, it’s good for my knee.”

“You know”, Liz began, “You don’t need to explain here. People do this all the time for their loved ones, it’s sweet.”

“But”, Isobel cut in, stopping whatever Alex was trying to say, “next time, don’t do it in front of us, maybe? If I hear my brother-in-law moan again when I die, it’ll still be too soon.”

“Guys, stop teasing them”, Max said, at which point Alex had already given up, “they’re not even dating”.

“Yeah”, Maria went in for the final blow, “because the old married couple don’t date anymore. You guys really should make more of an effort if you want to keep the sparks alive, you know?”

“You mean we should just ditch you all to enjoy our little world, just the two of us?” Alex crooked his head, playing along.

“Aww, honey, you’d do that for me, for us? I thought you said we should keep our friends company or they’d be too boring a bunch.” Michael added.

He never took his hand off Alex’s knee.

——————————————

4. Pet names

“Darlin’, I’m home!” Michael called out, as he entered their secret base.

Kyle looked up, confused. “Since when did you begin to use pet names for each other?”

Alex didn’t even spare Michael a glance. “I didn’t. He is just being a dick.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you wound me. And you’re such a pretty liar, considering you called me ‘Mikey’ just the other day.”

“Sarcastically, yes.” Alex rolled his eyes. “Now would you please cut the bullshit and come look at this?”

Michael fluttered his eyelashes: “For you, sweet cheeks? Of course.”

Kyle wanted to leave. He also wanted to die a little.

Then Alex turned his full attention to Michael, and said in an almost robotic voice. “Gee, you are so kind, my little teddy bear.”

Kyle was wrong. He didn’t want to die a little. He wanted to die A LOT.

Michael, on the other hand, smiled like a cat finally got the cream. “Don’t mention it, pumpkin.”

His eyes twinkling, his tone teasing. But there was also genuine softness and gentleness in his overall demeanor, like he was standing in front of the most precious person in his whole life, and he called his name.

Alex rolled his eyes again. But when he looked back down, there was a secret smile tugging at his lips.

——————————————

5. Couple’s therapy

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” How was this his life, Alex wanted to ask.

To his credit, Michael looked bashful for once. “I’ve been seeing this therapist for four months now. And she said we could use a couple’s therapy, so she gave me this Groupon. I thought it’d be great for us.”

Alex stared. “You do know we’re not actually a couple, right?”

Michael looked a bit hurt by that, but he recovered quickly, “We kinda are, though. We both haven’t seen any other people for about half a year now. We spend almost all of our free time together. We touch each other constantly. We talk about everything and anything. Everyone assumes we’re at least hooking up, some think we already eloped!”

“Friends also do that kind of things together. And other people’s opinions really don’t bother me”, Alex didn’t look at him while saying this, so there was still hope right?

At this point, any hope was worth fighting for.

“Yeah, except friends aren’t normally in love with each other.” He said, looking right into Alex’s eyes, daring him to deny it.

Alex hesitated, and resigned. “When is it?”

—————————————

Dr Brown already knew so much about him it was a little unsettling.

“Have you talked anything other than me during your sessions?” Alex couldn’t help to ask.

“Of course!” Michael sounded offended. Meanwhile Dr Brown said, calmly, “Very little.”

Michael threw a betrayed glare at her, but she just smiled.

“So, what do you want to know?” Alex was always direct, “fair warning though. I refuse to talk about my childhood, my parents, my family, my job, my gay struggles, or anything from my past, including my past with Michael.”

“That’s OK”, Dr Brown still smiled, not bothered at all. “I only have one question for you.”

“What’s that?”

“You walked in, already in combat mode, because you treat any foreign environment as a threat, not to mention this foreign environment might force you to open up which you only do when you are around a certain and small group of people. But then Michael walked in too, and your stance changed. You were still in combat mode, but you also put yourself in a protective position, slightly in front of him. Meanwhile, you relaxed noticeably as if you trusted him with all you’ve got. When you sat down, you leaned to him unconsciously, and every time he spoke or touched you, you were calmed and grounded.”

Alex’s voice was raw when he spoke. “That was not a question.”

“So my question is”, she continued, “why do you still deny it, when you’re clearly in love with each other and already in a steady relationship?”

Alex didn’t have an answer for that. He got up and left.

————————————

+1 “How is your headache”

He’d been avoiding Michael for three days now. He was miserable in all of the days.

He was debating whether he should quit being a coward and finally get what he wanted when there was a knock on his door.

He was not even a little surprised that it was Michael.

He was surprised by the flower though.

“What is this?”

Michael held out the flower, eyes pleading. “Wanna take you out for a date.”

“I haven’t slept well these past days, my head kinda hurts, going out is not something I want to do now,” Alex said, and rushed to say the next bit because Michael looked devastated, “But we could stay in, order some take out, and watch Star Wars together?”

Michael relaxed a fraction. “You mean rewatch Star Wars.”

“Yeah, well, I have this habit of falling in love with something and never managing to fall out of it, don’t I?”

Michael smiled, a little teary. “Guess we have that in common.”

——————————————

They ate, they talked, they watched Star Wars.

Then Michael was crowding Alex into the back of the couch, and asked tentatively: “how is your headache, honey?”

To that, Alex replied with a kiss.

#malexweek20 #malex20 #malex #Malex fic #my fic #5+1 things #old married couple #tropes

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 4 years

Text

Thank U, Next | Poe Dameron x Reader (2/2)

Prompt: Joy

Fandom: Star Wars (Sequel Trilogy)

Words: 6049 (idk what happened)

Warning: Minor swearing? Mentions of bullying. Some chonks of dialogue here and there.

A/N: So this became longer than expected, but I wanted to make sure I wrapped up everything. I hadn’t written this much for a fic in a long time and I hope a coherent story came out of it.

You dropped off a container of beef stew at Finn’s house and was dragged into a long conversation by his parents on what you’ve been up to. It was always the same spiel that you told the others. You had a cozy apartment in New York, you had work published, and now you’re waiting for your big break. Half an hour before lunch, you excused yourself, giving yourself time to calm down before you reached the diner.

You were the first to arrive, picking a booth near the corner and a window. When the waiter came by, you debated whether you should order for Poe, assuming that his taste buds are the same, then thought better of it. You simply ordered two waters and said you were expecting someone else.

Poe’s truck pulled into the parking lot eight minutes later. He spotted you through the window and waved. You offered a smile, taking a deep breath to compose yourself as he made his way inside the diner. The waiter came by just as Poe sat down. He flipped through the menu and gave his order, saying exactly what you thought he’d order. He hadn’t changed. The waiter left after you gave him your order.

“So, how are things?” Poe asked.

You shrugged. “They’re good,” you said, “You?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Just good?”

“Yeah, you know. What else can I say? Nothing eventful had happened lately. Everything’s just routine at this point.”

He hummed, not buying it. “What happened to the story you wrote our senior year? I would have thought that you’d do some revisions before getting published.”

“Oh, that thing,” you said, feigning indifference as you wiped the side of your cup with a finger, “It’s… I kind of gave up on that one, you know?”

“Why? It was so good!”

You shrugged again. You wanted to believe him, but this nagging feeling in your brain, telling you that he was lying, that he doesn’t know what he’s talking, wouldn’t stop every time he complimented your story. It was like a sensory alarm that went off every time he touched a certain subject. You had hoped that you’d get over this feeling, but it was something that was more recent than your time with Poe was, and it affected you more deeply and painfully.

“Didn’t think it’d be something that I wanted to be known for. I wanted to try different writing styles and genres to find where I fit. Besides, I didn't think you’d remember that one. It was so long ago.”

“Are you kidding me? I loved that story. There were moments that made me laugh, made me cry, and it was just so relatable and interesting. I really think you should revisit that one.”

“Yeah, I’ll try. Maybe it’ll help my writer’s block.”

The rest of the day was spent on eating and talking about high school. He brought up the time when someone tried to pull a prank on the soccer team by spiking their watercooler during an important game, but got caught because the cooler fell over them. Then, that time when he was performing with his band and one of his fangirls ran on stage to try and kiss him.

“There were so many people that hated me when we were together,” you said, shaking your head.

“Aw, come on. I don’t think it was that bad,” he said.

You scoffed. “Poe, I couldn’t even go to the bathroom without girls following me, sneering at me and telling me that I wasn’t good enough for you. That one day you were going to leave me for someone else once you got bored of me and that you were only with me because you felt sorry for me. Remember the time we went to Rose’s house when her parents were away and some asshole invited a bunch of people? We got separated and your fangirls decided to team up and dunk me into the pool and hold me there. If Finn, Snap, and Kare weren't there, I would have drowned.”

Poe frowned, sitting back. “I… I didn’t know that happened. (Y/n/n), why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed, scratching your head in frustration, memories of your arguments over it resurfacing. “I did, but you dismissed it. You said that they were drunk and didn’t mean it to go that far.”

“(Y/n/n), I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t know. I just thought… I don’t know why, but I thought you were exaggerating. I should have known better. I should have known that you wouldn’t lie about these kinds of stuff.”

“Yeah… which was one of the reasons why I thought we wouldn’t have lasted long after we graduated,” you said softly. “All kinds of problems when it comes to long distance relationships.”

“We could have at least tried.”

“And if it came to the point where someone tells you that, I don’t know, that I was cheating on you, which has happened to many couples that are involved in the military, what would you have done? Or if something happened while you were away? Were you just going to brush it off, or get angry if I want to talk about it?”

“Well, we'll never know, now, will we?” he countered.

You let out a heavy sigh, gathering your things. “I’m sorry. I’m instigating again,” you said, taking out some bills to pay for the meal, “It really was nice to talk to you again, Poe, really. I think it’s best if I get going.”

Poe’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist before you could leave. “No, you’re not running away again. Please, let’s just take this conversation elsewhere, okay? I’ve got the check. Meet me by the docks?”

He pleaded with his warm brown eyes, his grip on you loosening. He grabbed your money and gave it back to you, taking out his own wallet to pay. You reluctantly let him, shoving the money back in your bag.

“Fine. The docks at eight.”

“Thank you.”

You stopped by the house before meeting Poe, helping your mother with some chores around the house. Your mother was acting weird, glancing at you every now and then with a weird look. You asked her what was wrong, but she simply shrugged it off.

“So, I heard that you and Poe were hanging out today,” she said casually as she washed the dishes.

“Really?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s a small town, kid,” she said with a shrug, “Besides, I like him. Good kid. Stubborn, though, wanting to follow his parents’ footsteps in the military. A bit oblivious, too. I remember you coming home upset because he got carried away when talking with his friends and he didn’t realize that there were girls flirting with him. Besides all of that, you guys were good together. Not like that guy from New York-”

“Is that what this is all about?” You leaned against the counter and crossed your arms.

Your mother turned the faucet off and wiped her hands. “Sweetie, I heard from Armitage that Ben was in town-”

“He’s telling everyone, has he? What a rat.”

She shook her head. “Millicent was in the garden again and Armitage came by to get her. It just sort of came up about Ben. Armitage was just concerned for you, that’s all.”

“If he’s so concerned, then he should have told his friend to stop being an asshole.”

“Armitage said they stopped talking after he heard about what happened between the two of you.”

You walked away, sitting at the dining table without a word. Your mother sighed, taking a seat next to you. She took your hands into her own, but you refused to look at her.

“I’m sensing that there are things that you have not told me about what happened between you and Ben. I’m not forcing you to tell me, just that I’m always here to talk, okay?” You nodded. She leaned forward, pecking your forehead, before patting your shoulders. “Right, you’re going to meet your pilot boy. Tell him I said hi, alright?”

“Okay.”

The bed of Poe’s truck was facing the docks, the tailgate open with a lamp sitting on it. Poe was taking out a cooler and a blanket when you arrived. He took out a beer bottle from the cooler and handed one to you before hopping onto the tailgate. You followed suit, grabbing the bottle opener while you stared out at the water.

“Excited for the reunion?” he asked.

“Yes and no. Probably just going to stick to my people the whole night.”

Poe nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I lost touch with a lot of people when I left. Gonna be weird to see my old friends from school.”

“And your fangirls?” you teased.

He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “They’re probably all married anyways.”

“They’ll probably leave their husbands’ sides to follow you. I mean, look at you. You’re still quite a catch, Poe.”

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? I only want one person to catch me, though. If they want me.”

“Can’t imagine why anyone would want to be caught by… that person. They seemed to only mess things up.”

“Hey, that’s not true. A relationship isn’t just one person, (Y/n). I’ve messed some stuff up, too. Hell, I haven’t been able to maintain a long relationship for a while. People break up for one reason or another. But, sometimes, that doesn’t mean they can’t try again.”

You took a swig of your beer and leaned back, feeling his eyes following your every movement. You shifted in your spot, turning back to the water in front of you. Light from the docks and the town reflected off its inky black surface, a sliver of the moon peeking out from the clouds, illuminating everything else.

“You’re saying you wanna try ‘us’ again? Poe, you’re up in the air most of the time.”

“That’s true, but your work can be done anywhere, right? You’ve always said that you wanted to travel and it would help your writing. Maybe this time, you can come with me.”

“Where is all of this coming from?”

“Would it be crazy to say that I never stopped thinking about you?”

“It’s pretty crazy, actually.”

A long time ago, those sweet words would have heated your cheeks and made you feel giddy. Now you take each word with hesitation and skepticism, as if those sugar cubes were actually salt blocks. It’s one thing to say sweet things, it’s another to act on them.

“Besides,” you said, the bottle inches from your lips, “We’re not the same people from high school anymore.”

“Then, we’ll start over.”

You sighed. “Can we just drop it for now and enjoy the view?”

“Okay,” he relented, shifting around to get comfortable, “We can do that.”

You stayed like that until it was late. It was nice to sit in silence. It wasn’t awkward between you two, just two people enjoying the peacefulness of the night. Such a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of New York with an active nightlife.

When it was time to head home, Poe pulled you into a long hug, the heat from his body radiating off of him and shielding you from the cold breeze. You slowly raised your arms, wrapping them around him. You missed this. You missed him. So much. You wished you could stop pulling away from him, but you had scars that you weren’t ready for him to see.

One more day until your class reunion. You weren’t exactly jumping for joy, but it wasn’t like you were going to be alone, either. You met up with Finn and Rey at the mini golf course, taking turns while you talked. Even though you met Rey recently, it was like talking to an old friend. You would tell her about the time Finn claimed to have asthma so he’d be excused from running laps in PE and she’d tell you how they met and how they felt like they were going to die on one of their dates when the elevator stopped working.

After the last round and almost getting smacked by Rey’s bicep, the three of you went to go and get pizza. It was under new owners from the last time you’ve been there, but they kept the retro charm with the brick and mortar walls and arcade games in the corner.

“So,” Finn said, sipping his soda as he narrowed his eyes at you, “I heard you were hanging around with Dameron.”

You groaned, taking a big bite of your pizza. Finn smirked, unfazed by your glare.

“Who’s Dameron, again?” Rey asked.

“Poe. One of (Y/n)’s exes,” he said, “Pretty cool dude, too. They broke up because he wanted to go join the military.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling everyone about my love life, friend,” you said.

“Understandable,” Rey, looking at you sympathetically, “I heard it’s hard to maintain a relationship when your significant other is in the military.”

“Thank you.”

“I shipped you two so hard,” Finn continued, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Well, life… you know?”

Finn nodded, raising his soda. You and Rey clinked your glasses with his and drank.

“I can tell you one thing, though, I’ve heard about our classmates, and less than half of them ended up in the same career path that they had set out to do when we graduated. Man, so much for pressuring us to pick our college major in Freshman year, right? Why couldn’t they have taught us budgeting and work ethic in different work environments?”

You hummed. “Maybe you should be a teacher, Finn.”

“See?” Rey said excitedly, pointing at her fiance, “That’s what I’ve been telling him!”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve been concentrating on more fitness. Maybe be a PT? Rey’s the one getting her doctorates, so when I go to her high school reunion, I can be the trophy husband to a successful doctor.”

“Aw, Finnie.” Rey leaned her head on his shoulder.

You sighed, drinking your soda as if it was alcohol. The price you pay for hanging out with your friends who are a couple, becoming the third wheel. You looked down at your tray of pizza. Maybe you could try and finish it all by yourself. Sometimes when they’re wrapped up in each other, it’ll take a while for them to snap out of it, which means you might be there for a while.

You couldn’t sleep that night, knowing that Ben was going to be there. So far, you hadn’t ran into him, which was saying a lot because you ran into a lot of old classmates and teachers the past few days. Unless he was actively avoiding you.

Your mother found you sitting at the kitchen table slouching over two chocolate pudding cups. She wordlessly got her own cup and sat next to you, waiting. You sighed, leaning back in your chair. Where to begin?

“The reason why I haven’t written my book is… because I had been writing scripts for Ben,” you said, staring down at your spoon, “Scripts that Ben had taken and put under his name, and his name alone. I didn’t know until I went to visit him on one of his sets that he had done that. He said that he took my idea and changed some of the major points of the story, so he technically wrote it. Then, I went to the film festival with him and saw that it was almost exactly the same script that I wrote. I foolishly did it again and again, believing him when he said that he’ll have me more involved in his movies and… he didn’t.”

You shook your head, opening another pudding cup. Your mother waited patiently, nodding for you to continue.

“When I confronted him about it, he confessed that he made some deal with an indie film studio and that it would be more profitable and more exposure for him to take the credit. After all, I only write simple little stories that even a high schooler could write,” you added the last bit bitterly, “I’m scraping by while doubting my life choices of doing something I love instead doing something where I won’t gamble whether I’d earn enough money to pay for food and rent. Meanwhile, Ben’s having a field day winning awards for his directing and screenwriting at film festivals, not that he ever lived uncomfortably, being the mayor’s son and all.

“I just,” you sighed in frustration, your eyes beginning to sting as the exhaustion and anger took over you, “I’ve been told so many times how I’m not good enough, how writing won’t pay the bills, how writing doesn’t even take any skills or effort. I’ve been talked down to because of my choices, as if I was stupid or lazy. I’ve been trying to use spite to get me through this, reminding myself that this is what I’ve always wanted to do, no matter how many times the publishers tell me to change my stories into another cliche, but it’s tiring. It’s not enough. And I was stubborn to try and stick to my guns instead of compromising, because that would mean that everyone was right and that whole thing with Ben… I thought I could finally be with someone without giving up my dreams, but being with him made me question whether they should just stay as dreams and not a reality.”

“Oh, sweetie,” your mother said softly, pulling you in as you furiously wiped the tears that just kept falling.

“I don’t know what I’m doing! I don’t know if I want to write anymore. I tried and… nothing seemed to stick. Nothing felt right.”

“And you think if you were to take a job in, I don’t know, accounting, would you be happy? Even if it paid your bills and helped you buy that nice apartment?”

“No, of course not, but at least it’s something. It’s not like anyone is impressed with a writer unless they’re New York Times’ bestseller and become a movie franchise. It’s so frustrating. I want to do what I love, but I want to live comfortably while doing it.”

“And you will,” your mother assured you, rubbing your back soothingly, “I can feel that you’re close, so close to making it. You just have to keep pressing on. You’ll get there and it wouldn’t be to prove people wrong or show Ben up, it’ll be for you. Go back and find that drive you had when you began writing, everything else will follow. You are talented, (Y/n), and you have people that love you and care for you. If things are meant to be, if you feel it in your heart that it’s right, then it will work out.”

“Thanks, mom.”

“There better be a dedication for me at the front of the book.”

You both laughed. “Yeah, it might take a whole page.”

Talking with your mother helped ease your nerves a bit and Finn and Rey had texted you, offering to carpool with them. You accepted, being reassured once again that they’ll have your back.

You dressed casual, not expecting anything too fancy for the reunion. On your way towards campus, Finn began to play music that was popular from your time at school and you discovered that Rey had an amazing voice.

“You think that they’ll make a slideshow?” Finn asked.

“God, I hope not,” you groaned, “I looked terrible.”

“No, you didn’t! You dated two of the hottest guys in school, me and Dameron,” he said confidently.

“Nice compliment while tooting your own horn there, friend.”

“Hey, and also, you can tell that looks don’t matter to you ‘cause you had a crush on Hux, too.”

“Hey, I thought he was cute. Don’t judge me.”

“Oh, is he the ginger one that we saw the other day walking his cat?” Rey asked. Finn nodded. “I… I can kind of see it. Yeah.”

“You don’t sound convincing. Anyways! You guys were talking about visiting New York sometime this year?”

There was a new gym on your old high school campus, topped with solar panels and an air condition unit. The parking lot was gradually filling up, a trickle of a line leading into the new gym, the front double doors wide open with streamers and balloons in the school’s colors bordering them.

Finn pulled up next to a familiar truck, making you roll your eyes. He flashed you a cheeky grin before climbing out, rushing around to hold Rey’s door open. You stared at the campus, at the newly painted walls, cleaner drinking water fountains, neatly trimmed grass, and the large banner that ran across the front of the main office welcoming your alumni class. You could see your younger self hanging out by the old gym with your friends, or waiting outside of the bandroom for Poe, or setting up a booth for your school club.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Poe asked from behind you.

“You have to stop doing that,” you scolded him, smacking his arm.

He winced, rubbing the spot where you hit him. “At least you’re slowly treating me like how you used to.”

“Hey, Dameron!” Finn called out, tackling him into a hug.

Poe grunted before hugging him back. “Hey, you act like we haven’t drank together earlier this week. This must be Rey, right?”

Rey smiled, coming over to give him a more gentle hug. “Nice to meet you, Poe. I’ve heard so much about you,” she said.

While the two of them conversed about flying vehicles, you pulled Finn on the side, looking around cautiously. “I forgot to tell you before we came here…,” you started in a hushed tone, “So, there’s this thing with Ben-”

“Ben Solo?”

“Yes, him, I want to pretty much avoid him if possible and I need your help with that.”

Finn frowned in concern, cracking his knuckles. “Did he hurt you?”

“He never hit me,” you said quickly, “Just… it just really affected me mentally and emotionally, you know? I just don’t want to deal with that right now.”

“When did this happen?”

“We ran into each other in New York at a book signing. We caught up with each other, got coffee, then we started dating, so… that was a while ago, though.”

Finn nodded, patting your shoulder. “Don’t worry. We got your back, remember? Does Poe know?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think so.”

“Great, ‘cause him and Solo had some beef in high school.”

“Of course he does. Poe thinks he’s some kind of resistance leader or something.”

All four of you made your way towards the gym, signing in and writing out your name tags. Finn looped his arm with Rey and dragged her towards the punch bowl, leaving you trailing behind with Poe. He slowly offered his arm for you to take. You stared at it for a while as he nudged you with it. You thought back to what your mother had told you. You had people that love and care about you. Despite what happened between you two, despite the years apart, Poe Dameron still cared. Even if you weren’t able to move your relationship forward to more than friends, he would at least still be in your life.

You wrapped your arms around his bicep, the corner of Poe’s lips turning up as you did so, and the two of you made your way over to where Finn was talking to one of your former teachers, Lando Calrissian. He turned and broke into a wide smile as he greeted the two of you.

Throughout the day, the four of you made your rounds with the teachers and your fellow classmates. Just as you predicted, some of the women that had a crush on Poe briefly left their husbands’ side to greet him and linger around, finding any form of small talk as an excuse to stick around.

“I heard the two of you broke up after graduation,” one of them said, “Did you two get back together?”

“Not yet,” Poe answered before you could say anything, “Still tryna win (Y/n) over again. Worth it, though, right?” He bumped his forehead onto your head in an act of displaying affection.

She forced a smile on her face. “Aw, that’s so sweet,” she said before walking away.

“I should have bet money on that happening,” you muttered.

“Man, did you see her face?” Poe chuckled, turning to face you, “Besides, betting only works if I wanted to oppose you on that, and I’m tired of doing that with you. I was serious, though. I really want us to try again, but if you don’t want to, then fine. If you want to just stay friends, good. One word from you shall silence me forever, (Y/n), I’m serious.”

“Slow down, there, Mister Darcy,” you said, “It’s not even the end of the night yet.”

Your little group grew with the added Janna, Rose, Armitage, Snap, Kare, Jessika, and more came by to talk. Living in New York, you didn’t have much friends. A few writing buddies, a few college classmates, a neighbor, the nice couple that ran the restaurant downstairs, and your editor. Coming here, that uneasy feeling that you had, you realized, was vulnerability. It wasn’t something you’d normally do living in New York, even around friends. But, with these people, the ones that you grew up with, it was easy to let your guard down and enjoy the moment.

You were having fun and you were glad that you decided to come. Though as time went on, you felt your throat tighten and your eyes stinging. It was starting again. You excused yourself, walking out of the gym for some air. Poe watched you leave, concern written all over his face. Rose nudged him, assuring that you were fine and needed air.

You sat down on one of the benches overlooking the basketball and tennis courts. Leaning back, you inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly. Whenever you felt overwhelming happiness, dread was always there waiting to ruin it. You couldn’t even remember when it started, but you became better at dealing with it.

“Didn’t think you’d come.”

You froze, not wanting to turn to face the source of that voice. Out of all times that he would try to approach you, he chose the time where you were alone away from everyone else. You sensed him sit down next to you. For a while, you sat in silence. It was a different silence than with Poe. With Poe, it was comforting and relaxing, with no words needed to be said. By the end of it, you would feel refreshed like you had come out of meditation. With Ben, it was like sitting with an energy vampire, and by the end of it, you felt tired and drained.

“I didn’t think you’d come, either,” you said, your voice breaking the silence. You tried to raise your chin, preparing for battle.

Ben sighed, shifting around. You heard crumpling, then something nudging your hand. You looked down and saw a thick manila envelope. You dared to look up at him for the first time in a year. He looked tired.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“It’s… I’m sorry that I took your work, took everything that you could have used as evidence to prove that they’re your work,” he said, looking down, “I’ve gathered all of them and put it in your envelope so you could submit it for copyright. If you want to take legal actions, I’ll happily allow it.”

Allow it. Sure. As if he was giving me permission. He’s probably patting his back for this one good deal he’s doing. You took the envelope, feeling the weight of it, picturing all the scripts that you had written in the past. Writing came easy to you back then. Then you remembered all the lies he had told you. When you were no longer willing to do what he wanted, you were no longer useful. There was this heavy feeling in your chest, something wanting to come out unless you’ll explode. The sad thing was that he wasn’t always like this, and it was probably why you foolishly kept overlooking or denying his bad behavior.

“We could have worked together,” you said, “And you had to go and pull that shit?”

“I know, I’m sorry.” It was hard to tell if he was being genuine. You could no longer trust your instincts when it came to him.

“You would dare criticize my writing when you couldn’t even write anything for yourself? And you just know that I would believe all of it, and you still kept at it. Do you know how hard it was to write anything after what you put me through? Being told my writing is not complex or sophisticated enough, being told that my own scripts aren’t even my own, watching you keep those awards for screenwriting while no one else would want to even look at my work? Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Ben Solo.”

Ben inhaled sharply. “Then, what the hell do you want me to do, huh? All your stuff is there. Go and copyright it, sue me for plagiarism, and I’ll pay you the fees.”

“Fees that you could easily pay off,” you said, standing up, “But when I do speak to my lawyer, I’ll see what else I can do to you.”

“Yeah, would you be happy then?”

You glared down at him. “After all of that, I’ll finally be free of you, so maybe I will be,” you said, then added in a low voice, “It’s a shame, though. I thought we worked well together, but sharing wasn’t exactly your thing. You hurt me, Ben. I don’t think we could even be friends after this.”

“Right, like how your close friends with Armitage, Finn, and Poe, right? Just friends?” Ben snapped.

You shook your head at him. “You are utterly ridiculous, Solo. Just be glad I hadn’t told your mom about what you did.”

You let out another slow exhale as you walked away, your work in hand, and a heavy weight left behind. It wasn’t completely over, but the burden of it hanging over your shoulders was gone. All that was left was tying loose ends. Then after, you can start again.

In the gym, they had already set up the small stage with chairs scattered about. Poe sat on stage with a guitar in hand. He shifted on the stool that was clearly too small for him, tuning the guitar as he looked around. You found an empty seat between Rey and Rose at the front and sat down. Poe smiled as you met his eyes and he began to play.

At the end of the night, you and the girls decided to hang out for the rest of the week before you and Rey had to fly back home. You exchanged numbers and looked up movies playing. A few of you had different choices of movies, but Rose suggested that they should time it so we could watch all of them. After parting with the others, Poe jogged up to you.

“Hey,” he said, “I really enjoyed the past few days. It was nice to hang out again. I’m, uh, I actually have to leave tomorrow night. One of the pilots got sick, so… I was wondering, ‘cause I know you’re spending time with the girls and I don’t want to take too much of your time, but if you could see me off? Even if just for a few minutes.”

You sighed, looking down at your shoes, then back at Rose and Rey who had paused their conversation to give you a thumbs up. You shook your head and turned back to Poe. He waited patiently with pleading eyes, chipping away at your remaining walls.

“Okay. Just text me what time and I’ll try to be there before you go,” you said, taking out your phone.

You handed your phone over and watched as Poe excitedly inputted his number before texting himself. “Okay, all set,” he said.

“This doesn’t mean anything more than it has to be,” you reminded him.

“I know. We’ll take it one step at a time. Restart.”

“Thank you, Poe,” you said softly, stepping forward and catching him by surprise as you pulled him into a hug.

Poe returned the hug, engulfing you fully. “Don’t mention it, (Y/n/n). I’m one call away if you need me.”

The next day, you drive to the airport an hour before Poe heads off to his gate. As a pilot, he could pass the gruelling standard TSA checks and flash his ID, but he waited for you in his pilot uniform. Jessika had given you all a ride and offered to drive you to the airport. They girls had gone to Starbucks while you made your way over to his airlines.

He spotted you, giving you a long salute, which you returned, then grabbed his luggage, making his way towards the escalators up. He turned around one last time and waved. Raising your hand to wave back, you couldn’t help but see his military uniform instead of his pilot uniform, thinking what if you had at least been there when he was first shipped off. When he was out of sight, you turned and slowly made your way towards the others.

Coming back to your hometown, you didn’t expect much to happen. You expected nostalgia, of course, like looking at an old doll house you used to play with. The bittersweet feeling in your stomach as you flipped through photo albums with your mother, as you drive by your old hang out spots, and seeing your classmates for the first time in ten years. You expected to feel distant from them. These were all familiar things, but you were not the same person that left this town, and neither is everyone else.

You didn’t expect to be pulled into a warm embrace, to be fully welcomed back, to be seen and treated as yourself as you are now and not expected to be yourself from ten years ago. You didn’t expect this much confrontation, of the past coming back and making you face them head on to set things straight. You didn’t expect to feel lighter and stronger and more confident, acknowledging everything that you had gone through and their effects on you, that they were things that you were capable of overcoming.

On your last day in your hometown, until next time, you had a teary goodbye with your friends and your mother. You promised to be in more touch with them this time and that they were free to visit you in New York any time.

Taking your window seat and settling in, you took out your journal and flipped through all the scribbles of ideas you had done. You turned to a blank page and began to write. You ignored any grammatical mistakes you made and kept going, knowing that once your flow is going, you had to go with it or get stuck. The only thing that stopped you was a familiar voice.

“Good morning, passengers, and thank you for choosing our airlines-” Poe announced.

You smiled, leaning back in your chair. After talking to your mother about what you were going to do once you got back to New York, you decided that you weren’t going to worry about things too far in the future. You were going to focus on the present and set up long and short time goals. You could still work on that novel, but you could also put together anthologies for a start. Maybe go back into script writing. Maybe even revisit that story you wrote in high school.

It’s just like what Poe said, life was funny. You plan something, you end up doing something else, but if it was meant to be, you somehow end up where you had always wanted to go from the start.

And you feel that it’s finally happening for you.

#WritersMonth2020 #poe dameron x reader #past Finn x Reader #background Finn x Rey #poe dameron #past ben solo x reader #star wars imagine #star wars sequel trilogy #star wars #High school reunion au #high school au

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doc-pickles · 4 years

Text

let me take your hand, i’ll make it right (swear to love you all my life)

What if I just.... dropped my Jolex fanfic here 👀 I wrote a fix it fic after 16x16 and this is it. Also posted to AO3 but there's not enough fic content on this hellhole of a website.

Also if you wanted to.... send me Jolex prompts.... I wouldn't hate that.....

Jo had thought that during her long nights and endless shifts as an intern that she had learned the meaning of the word tired. Naively, she had assumed that the 36 hours on call and the 7-hour surgeries were the worst her body could give her. But now that she was an attending, and a pregnant one at that, Jo could honestly say that she had never been so tired.

The tunnels seemed to be her only source of relief lately, a quiet area of the hospital where she could sleep soundly while on call. Even if her back was aching and she had to spend 30 minutes getting comfortable, the tunnels offered Jo the best chance at sleep she could muster.

While her loft was only a 15 minutes drive from Grey Sloan and perfect for on call nights, Jo couldn’t bring herself to stay there for long periods of time. Everything reminded her of Alex. The couch they had picked out together, the bookshelf he had built, the dresser still full of his clothes. Jo may not be comfortable sleeping at the hospital, but it gave her peace of mind, something she needed greatly at almost eight months pregnant.

It was almost 5 AM when she got her first page of the day. Jo had been able to sleep for a full uninterrupted four hours, longer than usual for an overnight shift. She only had an hour left of her shift, something she was thankful for since it would be her day off after that. Her body was aching and she knew she would have to go back to the loft to shower properly and rest in a bed that wasn’t a gurney. Her pager directed her to the East Wing, so off she went.

The halls were still quiet, Jo’s slow and heavy footsteps echoing as she went on her way. The first few hours of the morning were some of her favorites, the quiet that lay over the hospital comforting in more than one way. During the day, the hustle and bustle of surgeons and patients could become overwhelming. It was a breath of fresh air to be able to hear herself think as she walked the halls.

As she rounded the corner and came up on the East Wing, Jo saw Meredith standing in front of one of the conference rooms on the floor. The blinds were drawn so she couldn’t see in, but it seemed like Meredith was guarding whatever was inside.

“Hey,” Jo breathed out, stopping in front of Meredith. Her right hand came up to her stomach, pushing down the foot that tried to kick up at her. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were off today.”

“Yeah well, something came up,” Meredith shrugged, her hands fidgeting in front of her. She seemed nervous, something that Jo rarely saw from her. “I need to show you something. Or tell you something. Either way it’s important.”

Jo nodded at her, but furrowed her brow. She was becoming more and more confused as Meredith spoke. Sure, the older woman could be cryptic and sometimes a little vague, but her expression and tone of voice were starting to freak Jo out.

“Jo, I need you to keep an open mind, just listen without acting,” Meredith’s voice was calm as she backed up towards the conference room door. “Just… go in here and I promise everything will be explained, okay?”

“What’s going on? Can’t you just tell me,” Jo’s crosses her arms impatiently as she stared at Meredith. “You guys already threw me a surprise baby shower and it’s 5 AM so now I’m getting worried.”

“Just go in, please. Trust me on this one,” Meredith placed her hand on Jo’s shoulder as she opened the door.

The room was fairly dark with the lights dimmed and the blinds drawn. But the figure across the large table was easily identifiable to Jo. Her stomach clenched uneasily as she stared at the man sitting in front of her. He looked tired and sad, worse for wear but still the man she knew.

“Alex,” Jo’s voice was low, barely a whisper. She gripped the chair in front of her to keep herself standing and not in a puddle on the ground. “What’re you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Kansas?”

“I was never in Kansas,” the sound of his voice after months of silence makes Jo’s heart swell. A swift kick to her side told her that her baby was listening in too, eager to hear her father's voice. As angry as she is at him, she still loved Alex. “Jo, please you gotta listen to me. I didn’t wanna leave I swear.”

The anger and sadness that Jo had felt for the past seven months finally overflowed. How dare Alex walk in here and try to make everything okay again! Jo had been on her own, going through a rough pregnancy and the aftermath of a divorce by herself. And if that wasn’t enough, she was working in the world’s largest gossip hub while Alex was in the middle of nowhere with his estranged ex wife.

“You did leave though Alex! You left me and you wrote me a freaking letter,” Jo’s voice was loud and emotional, the tears streaming down her face not helping her to stay composed. “You left me and I can’t even go home without thinking of you so I sleep here. I spent the first two months after you left throwing up between patients begging God or anyone to bring you back to me. I’ve cried myself to sleep for seven months and gone to every appointment on my own and done it all by myself. So no, you do not get to walk back in like everything is fine!”

Alex stared at Jo, his eyes taking her in all over again. She was glowing, even in her anger she had a distinct pregnancy glow about her. Meredith had told him about his impending fatherhood on the drive over, just to make sure he didn’t flip out the first moment he saw Jo again. He knew she was angry and upset with him, she had every right to be mad. But right then, Alex wanted nothing more than to hold Jo in his arms and feel their child kicking. He knew he had more explaining he needed to do before Jo would let him do that.

“Jo,” Alex looked into her watery eyes. “Please give me two minutes to explain. It’s not what you think and I promise I have a good reason.”

“There’s not any excuse I would listen to from you, Alex,” the words barely slipped out of Jo’s mouth before she doubled over, a gasp of pain escaping her as one hand pressed against her stomach. “Oh Jesus, that hurts.”

Alex was up before she could say anything to stop him, rounding the table and standing next to Jo. Her grip on the chair was turning her knuckles white and the tears tracking down her face were from a physical pain now. Alex reached a hand out to help her, but she gave him a look that was dripping with venom and anger.

“Lemme look at you, Jo,” Alex’s voice was calm and quiet as Jo breathed out loudly, ready to fight him on it. “Just let me look at you as a doctor, okay? I just wanna make sure the baby is alright, please?”

Jo finally nodded, her body gladly falling into the chair Alex had pulled out. She was still leaning over, small whimpers coming out of her as she tried to stop her child’s erratic movements. Alex moved his hands quickly to Jo’s stomach, pressing against it as he looked up at her. He figured now would be a good time as any to explain everything to her.

“I was at Pac North and I was running downstairs to get supplies for the OR. I walked into the basement and found one of my surgeons being held at gunpoint and operating on a GSW victim,” Alex moved his eyes from Jo’s face back to her stomach. A strong kick met his right hand and Alex realized it was his child was trying to say hello to him. “It was a whole gun smuggling operation, one of my doctors and I happened to stumble upon it. Anyways, they started threatening me and the other guy, the police got involved, and they made me go into hiding until the trial. I had a huge target on my head, Jo, these people were gonna kill me because I saw an illegal surgery.

“So they put me into WITSEC but someone wouldn’t stop calling or texting, so I had to write you that letter. I had to find something that was so ridiculous that you would stop trying to find me,” Alex moved one hand up to Jo’s face, his thumb brushing off the tears from her cheek. She was crying in earnest now and Alex couldn’t tell if it was from him or the baby. “I’m so sorry I left you Jo, but I couldn’t risk you getting hurt because of what happened. I know you don’t agree with me, but I was trying to protect you. And now I’m really glad I didn’t take you with me, I would’ve died if something happened to you or this baby.”

“So you really didn’t want to leave me,” Jo sniffled, a small laugh slipping out. “I almost drove to freaking Kansas to beat you up and bring you back. God I can’t believe any of this.”

“Baby’s fine by the way, you’re not contracting so I think they were just mad at the volume change,” Alex pressed his hand back to Jo’s stomach, another kick greeting him. “I’m sorry I missed all of this, I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m never going to stop apologizing for what I put you through. You know I would’ve been here if I could.”

Jo began crying again at Alex’s words, her arms reaching out to hug him close to her. The anger and the sadness she had clung to for the past few months vanished as she held onto Alex. None of it mattered anymore because he was here and he wasn’t dead and he would be able to meet their baby and they’d raise her together.

“Can we go home now? I really wanna sleep in our bed,” Jo sniffled as she looked up at Alex. She wanted nothing more now than to go back to the loft and curl up with him. “And your daughter is craving a cheeseburger at 5 AM.”

“Should’ve known she was a girl when she kicked me that hard,” Alex leaned down and pressed his forehead to Jo’s. “I’m sorry about all of this, are we okay?”

Jo nodded and pulled Alex down towards her, their lips colliding in a kiss that neither realized they had missed so much.

“So,” Jo pulled away from Alex and ran her fingers through his hair. It had grown longer since she’d last seen him. “Do you think that the third time's the charm works for marriages too?”

#jo wilson #alex karev #jo karev #jolex #jolex fic #jolex fanfic #jo x alex #greys anatomy #greys fanfic #post 16 x 16 #fix it fic #jo deserves better #fuck krista #greys #greys abc #greysanatomy #jolex fanfiction #alex x jo #nina writes

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hopelessly-me · 4 years

Note

I love your writing!! I dunno if you do requests or are sometimes looking for inspiration but I love a fake/pretend relationship trope and i was thinking you could make that pretty fun! An AU of a friend helping out a friend. An undercover mission that is a little too comfortable? Clint having The Best Idea™ for Steve to leave Bucky alone with his lack of "putting himself out there." So many possibilities!!

Hey anon! Thank you so much! <3 You made me do a stupid smile (which I love). I will gladly take prompts! And fake/pretend relationship troupe is adorable! I think I have only done this one once for a fic I wrote, and I’m never sure how to start them, especially if I want to keep the fic nice and short. But here is my best attempt for the day!

I hope you enjoy it! It was written rather quickly, glanced through a few times so excuse the spelling/grammar issues (I felt bad for letting this sit). Thanks for gracing my face with a smile today, you beautiful anon you!

It took a lot to throw Clint. He had been through some shit in life, seen a lot of weird things- being an Avenger meant he was used to weird. Hell, he liked weird half the time. But none of that could have prepared him for what he had just experienced. Clint stood rooted in his spot awkwardly, his lips working against someone else's in what was the most surprising kiss he had ever had in his whole life. The only warning he got was eyes dark and set on him before he saw the lips moving, saying something Clint hadn’t picked up on.

To say he was stunned was an understatement. He looked at the man, tried to work out what had just happened. Bucky turned and Clint caught sight of Steve before he felt his face turning bright red. What in the hell? Bucky had said something, and Steve was studying Clint. The only thing Clint could think to do was give an awkward smile and raise a hand in greeting. Steve muttered something and he turned and walked away.

Bucky turned back around and looked relieved before he started talking rapidly. Clint’s eyes scanned Bucky’s, then looked down at his mouth and back. Oh shit, I should tell him I can’t hear a word he is saying. Why does he have to look like that? Why the hell did he kiss me? What was I doing before this happened, anyway? Clint’s brain was having trouble figuring out what he was supposed to be doing.

Bucky stared at him long and hard, and Clint finally realized he must have been waiting for an answer. Slowly, Clint reached up and pointed to his ear, his voice caught in his throat. Bucky blinked before it dawned on him and his face started turning red. He smacked a hand across his face, dragging it down. Clint took the moment when those grey-blue eyes weren’t pinning him to his spot to slip away and go the bathroom, digging around until he found a spare pair of BTEs.

“Alright… what just happened?” Clint asked, surprised that the BTEs still had a charge. Then he wondered if maybe they were in a Stark tech pod that kept them charged. God, I wish I could actually think and focus. Today was just a weird day.

“I am sorry, I didn’t know what else to do,” Bucky said.

“Do about what?” Clint asked.

“Steve!”

“Okay Barnes- you need to go back, like, six pages here,” Clint said.

“Not here,” Bucky said. “Your floor. Come on.”

Clint didn’t even bother to ask about that. Instead, he followed Bucky into the elevator and looked up. It was awkward, a weird energy between them, and Clint was pretty sure with one false move, he was either never going to speak to Bucky again, or he was going to end up in the Hudson. Clint picked the smartest choice running through his head and kept his mouth shut.

As soon as they walked off the elevator, Bucky launched himself into the story. “You know how Steve is always on me about going out, trying new things, and all that right?” Clint nodded, because that was by fair the safest option. “He wants me to start dating. And then I told him I was dating someone, hoping it would get him off my back. And today he said we should do a double date and he wouldn’t let it drop; kept asking if he knew the gal. And then I panicked. I saw you eating a donut and I just…”

“Aw man, I dropped my donut,” Clint whined.

“Seriously, Barton?” Bucky asked with a huff.

“You kissed me stupid enough for me to drop a donut,” Clint replied, heavily implying that it was Bucky’s fault for bringing the donut situation to light. “You thought I was the safe option here? Are you crazy? Steve is going to figure it out!”

“I know!” Bucky said in a panic. “I just- I don’t know what I was thinking, alright?”

Clint watched the man pace, growing more nervous by the second. Clint himself didn’t know what to think, his head still trying to find its way around how the hell Bucky thought he was a good option for this. He looked down at his hand, now missing the other half of his Boston Creme donut, and took a deep breath.

“Alright, fine, but only for two months max.”

“Excuse me?”

Clint grinned. “I like screwing with Cap. This seems like the best way to do that. I’ll act like your boyfriend for two months. Two, Barnes.” Bucky looked confused, though he had stopped pacing. Clint rolled his sleeves up. “You owe me a dozen donuts now though.”

“Are you serious?” Bucky asked hesitantly.

Clint shrugged. “I pretended to date Natasha for years- I can pretend to date you for less. Anyway, if I get kissed like that every time you panic in front of Steve, it is definitely going to be worth it.”

Bucky was silent for a bit, observing Clint. Normally, Clint didn’t like being watched that closely- it always made his skin prickle and put him on edge. However, Bucky looked so lost and helpless that it eased away the tension for a minute. It took a minute before Bucky looked horrified.

“No. No. Oh my God, did you just-”

“Maybe a little,” Clint smirked. “Gonna go take a nice cold shower now, sunshine.”

“Stop it.”

“Whatever you want, Bucky bear,” Clint cooed.

“You’re a menace and this was the worst idea my brain could have come up with,” Bucky grumbled. “Just to be clear, you are forbidden to think of anything remotely sexual when we are together near Steve. This is not supposed to… to…”

“Oh my God, you are so precious when you blush,” Clint teased and Bucky turned and walked. “Love you! Boston Creme! A dozen! Bye honey bunches of oats!”

“I’m regretting this already!”

-------

“Remind me again why we are the ones forced to do this one?” Clint asked, one hand holding Bucky’s while his arm was wrapped along his shoulders as they slowly danced. Bucky glanced up at him before he looked around the room.

“Because we are dating so it appears natural,” Bucky whispered.

The two month contract they had planned was nearly up. For what it was worth, Clint had upheld his end of the bargain. Once Bucky told him everything, Clint knew exactly what he could do to convince Steve that they had been dating. It was easy enough to trick everyone, minus Natasha. Clint could still see her amused look when he admitted to her what was happening, could still feel her hand brush against his cheek. Oh, you are so screwed. Clint could pretend to hate her for it.

As per their agreement, Bucky had to plan the dates. That was a lot of extra work, and while Clint would have done it had they actually been dating, he enjoyed the trips out they took. Clint didn’t mind laying it on in public- it wasn’t like people hadn’t known he was bisexual for a long time now. He would take the obligated kiss on the cheek photo every time they were out, and Clint took it as a win anytime he could make Bucky blush from the simple action.

“Three o’clock- you ready for this?” Bucky asked.

“Aww, honey, I was born ready.” Clint smirked and Bucky gave him an odd look. Clint kissed him before reaching into the back of Bucky’s pants, Bucky doing the same. It wasn’t abnormal for couples- but pulling guns out sure was.

The fire fight was worth it. Clint wasn’t sure which of them was more excited for this retrieval, although Clint was going with Bucky. He always seemed to get that air of smug excitement when he was interrogating, and it was definitely something to watch.

All in all, the mission took three hours and Bucky and Clint were in the car, driving back to the safe house. Clint shrugged off his suit jacket and rolled his sleeves up before he touched his lip gingerly. A part of him knew they were assigned this task because it was something they were both good at- fist fights and playing dirty. And hell, if they both didn’t look spectacular in suits. But he kinda liked the thought of Bucky thinking it was because they were already dating, or fake dating, depending on the words used.

“Hey Clint,” Bucky said over the sound of the radio.

“What’s that?” Clint asked, pulling the visor down to check his lip before he pressed down on a cut over the top of his eyebrow.

“I think we should extend the contract out for another two months. Really give me time to… figure out what I want.”

Clint looked over at the unease look on Bucky’s face. And yeah, Natasha might have been right a month ago when she said Clint was screwed. It was a little reckless, sure, but Clint leaned over the center console and kissed the side of Bucky’s mouth, drawing his head that way. It was short lived and passionate before Bucky swerved to stay on the road and Clint laughed himself back into his seat, the glare from Bucky worth it all.

“You taste like blood,” Bucky snapped.

“Split lip will do that,” Clint answered. “But hey- you know what I am thinking? We should continue this whole fake dating thing for however long you want.”

Bucky chanced a glance Clint’s way. “You think?”

Clint leaned his seat back and crossed his arms behind his head, making himself comfortable. Maybe it was the wine talking, or maybe it was the way Bucky had rolled up his sleeves the day before and licked his lips before he got that charming grin on his face, but somewhere along the line, fake dating Bucky hadn’t been a bad thing.

“Yeah- I think I kinda like it.”

#winterhawk #look a wild prompt appeared!#thanks anon for being a rockstar

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