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strangeinternetwasteland · 3 years

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Silver Touch- Gojo x Fem! Reader

A/N: This was a Soulmate AU I did for a @konoblog-simps server collab. I did collaborate with the beautiful and talented @titanialev for the picture. This was fun to write and I hope you all enjoy.

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Word Count 2.5K

Another year down and it was a failure. Another year that ended terribly. During the Christmas season, you had heard your older family members ask when you would find your soul mate. Most of your family members that were of age had already found theirs. What was wrong with you? It drove you mad that you had a soulmate at all. Obviously, the words written on your palm gave that away. Every time you looked at them you always wondered where and when it would happen. Not knowing when you’d see, or touch them made it a lot more unbearable. Yuji, you idiot. For the umpteenth time, you read it. That perfect writing, it drove you crazy. If you had only a countdown to when you’d meet, a place, or any clue honestly it would be helpful.

Soul mate marks were taken very seriously. The soul marks were always wherever your soulmate would first touch you. The mark also contained the first words your soulmate would speak to you and glowed silver. They appeared after birth, some immediately after, as in your case. Some people were born without them and they appeared after their soulmate was born, as was your father’s case. Most people found their soulmates by the time they were 18. You being in your early 20’s hadn’t yet. This embarrassed your mother greatly, and you’re sure your father would probably disown you if you lived at home for much longer.

Your friends, who most found their mates already, would gently push you to date, so you wouldn’t be awkward when it came time to actually meet your mate. While hoping that maybe one of these people would be your soulmates. They really did mean the best for you, but even you know that wouldn’t help. You did enjoy a few people here and there but knowing your soulmate was out there still you lost interest quickly.

With your terrible New Year’s Eve date you had behind you, most people were looking forward to Valentine’s Day. It was common knowledge that more soulmates were found between the 12th and the 16th of February. You had no hope, you never really did. So when you started noticing more pink, purple, and red decorations and advertisements around town you internally gagged. It made your stomach hurt looking at all the goods sold to soulmates.

Today, though, you have a bit more energy than normal. You dressed for your errands for the day. Deciding on wearing a super thick gray sweater with jeans and a baby blue scarf to bundle against the cold winter, which quite honestly, besides black, was one of your favorite colors it had always been, but you never knew why. It didn’t make sense, but you never questioned it more than that, because when you thought about it more, you knew it was just something about it that you liked. It made you feel happy and peaceful.

After a quick look in the mirror, you grab your purse and walk out the door. All the different shades of purples, pinks, reds, and white assaulted you as you walked by the many stores. Today, you were stopping by the pharmacy to pick up some headache medicine. After walking in and audibly groaning at the terrible displays of cheap displays of love you decided you were going to treat yourself to (your favorite hot beverage) to help combat the cold.

Just across the street was your favorite place to get (beverage of choice). The people were always very kind and friendly, and if you wanted to be honest, you liked that they knew you by name here. You didn’t always order the same thing every time, but since the events of the past few months left you embittered, you were going to go with your most favorite, and comforting drink. The familiar scent of coffee and tea filled your nose as you inhaled deeply feeling calmer than you were outside. Standing in line for a moment, the sweet blonde barista, Lorelie, greeted you.

“Hello Y/N! How are you doing today? What can I get started for you?” She chirped happily, and that familiar greeting, whether it was her or anyone else working always left you feeling like you belonged here.

“I am doing well, Lorelie, I hope you’ve been doing alright. Can I please get a large (name of a favorite hot beverage)?” You smiled back trying to sound as happy as Lorelie did. You couldn’t help but feel like her warmth was infectious.

“Sure thing! I’ll bring it to you when it’s ready.” Lorelie said automatically. A small gesture that you always appreciated. You looked around the little shop while many were covered with Soulmates ads and gifts, here there was very little mentioned. Frankly, you were happy this place was void of any such nonsense. After a few moments, Lorelie came walking up with your order and a treat. Of course, it was a brownie. She always seemed to give you little moments of happiness. You thank her and start leaving the little shop.

As you walk out, a handsome man with white hair holds the door for you, with a smile. It usually wouldn’t bother you but he had a mask over his eyes. How did he know where he was going? You were lost in your thoughts and not paying attention to another man who came running behind you. He seemed to not notice you at all. When he crashed into you, he forced you to fall forward right into the man holding the door. You felt your ankle twist forcing your scarf to fall over your face and obstruct your eyesight. You felt your beverage and brownie escape your grasp. You tried to catch yourself but felt your hand hit something fleshy and you held on for life.

Everything had happened so fast. After you decided that sitting down would be better after hurting your ankle. You pulled your scarf just enough to see. You saw the man holding the door with a frightening glare on his face. You weren’t sure if it was at you or the mess of your beverage all over his shirt.

“Oh no!” You said with dread. Looking at this mess you had made and probably could’ve avoided if you were just paying attention, you knew the shirt this man was wearing was expensive and would take a month’s pay just to replace it. The man’s face changed after you spoke. He started taking off his mask to look at you. You felt your face grow warmer and you just wanted to leave. His bright eyes never leave your face.

“Yuuji. You idiot.” He kept looking down at you. Your breath caught in your throat. You froze for a moment. Your mind and heartbeat raced. You were desperately trying to remember where you’d seen those words before. You looked down at your palm and saw the words glow silver. You then looked back at this man. The look on your face must’ve given everything away. You looked up and saw the words on his hand glowing as well. When he finally looked up at the man named Yuuji he stared at him intently .

“Where are your manners?” Your soulmate scolded Yuuji. You started trying to stand up to get out of this situation. You couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that this extremely handsome man was your soulmate.

“What? I didn’t see her.” Yuuji stated and he didn’t look the least bit concerned for you.

“Here, let me help you up.” The white-haired man held his hand out to help you up. You nervously took it and pulled yourself up. His hand was warm and was the smile he was giving you.

“My name is Gojo.” You stood as still as you could even though you felt dizzy. You felt yourself wobbling, the pain in your ankle increasing. Gojo noticed and swept you off your feet carrying you bridal style into the shop you were just leaving. He gently places you in a chair. The look of worry spreading over his face. He left you and went to ask Lorelie for some ice.

After a minute, Gojo returned and checked your ankle for any swelling, bruising, or a broken bone. His touch was soft and relaxing, he gingerly touched your ankle and noticed nothing unusual.

“It doesn’t look broken. I think perhaps you just sprained it.” He spoke softly. “I can bring you to the doctor or hospital if you’d like...Sorry I never did catch your name.”

“Oh, I am sorry, I never did say it. It’s Y/N.” You say sheepishly, noticing the color of your scarf and Gojo’s eyes are the same color. The whole world suddenly becomes a little bit brighter as you’ve come to accept that you’ve found your soulmate.

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

Looking back on the last year of your life you never would’ve expected it to go so smoothly. After meeting Gojo, and the terrible incident caused by Yuuji. You and Gojo spent the day talking and getting to know one another.

After three months, Gojo decided to ask you to move in, and you gladly accepted. The first few weeks were nerve-wracking, but you both seemed to make it work. The way Gojo always seemed to be silly and playful when you didn’t want to be or weren’t in the mood made you fall harder. He would bring you flowers, or little gifts when he came back from work trips, and he would just do anything for you because he missed you.

After eight months together, he planned a small weekend getaway for the two of you since he had been working a lot. He made sure the entire trip was to your exact liking including drinks, and food. This was when you were sure you loved him, despite being soulmates. The first night there under the starry sky and a small bonfire, he proposed to you. The moment was perfect and you didn’t hesitate to let him know exactly how you felt. When you returned home, you planned your wedding. Gojo had a lot of rules for the wedding, but knowing him he probably only meant one or two of them since he loved to make you flustered.

The day of the wedding the sun shone brightly, the sky was the perfect shade of blue, and cloudless. The wind was light, and the temperature was perfect. The aroma of late spring flowers blooming softly mingled with the fresh air. In a few short hours, you were going to marry your soulmate.

You took a deep breath to gather your thoughts. Your bridesmaids were giggling as they sipped on mimosas, and chatted. You were definitely nervous, and you knew you shouldn’t be. There was a knock at the door signaling the make up artist and hair stylists arrival. Everything was coming together.

The time came for your makeup and hair to be done. You decided on wearing your hair down but softly curled, placed upon your head was a silver vine tiara made with pearls and crystals. Your make up was soft and natural, except for your lipstick, which was a Ruby to match the roses. You stared at yourself for a moment and actually felt like a queen. Your bridesmaid’s were all wearing their makeup understated as well, but all of them had their hair done in a sophisticated bun with a french braid on the side. Each one had a hair pin to match your tiara.

The dress was one that you never imagined would look good on you. It was the first one you tried and just fell in love with. It was an A-line ball gown with a small train. The bodice was a corset with the sleeves that were off the shoulder. It had a lot of lace and the bodice. Though it was a bit heavy, you knew that Gojo would absolutely die in it. The dresses for the bridesmaids were all floor length chiffon dresses that also matched the roses you chose. Seeing yourself in your dress, and the bridesmaids in their dresses you knew that this dream was going to become reality.

A knock on the door jolted you out of your thoughts and frenzied the bridesmaids. As they hush each other, your maid of honor answers the door. She talks quietly to the person on the other side for a brief moment and closes the door.

“Everyone and everything is ready,” She said quietly. You nod to her as you place your veil over your face.” You hold your bouquet of red roses in your hand and inhale deeply. You couldn’t imagine your life at this moment. From meeting your soulmate to being married to him. It all seems to have flown by in the blur of life.

You walked to your holding place. Your bridesmaids all waiting along with the groomsmen and your father. The music began and you felt like you were floating on a cloud. You couldn’t believe the overwhelming urge to cry. The voice inside your head told you that you needn’t cry because the amount of time and makeup used to make you look ‘natural’ was surreal. You took one look at your father, who normally was stoic, and expressionless. Not right now, he had tears streaming down his cheeks, and snot running down to his chin. You smiled at him. Knowing how hard giving away his only daughter would be for you, you patted his arm where yours was linked with his.

The music changed to the song you chose to walk down the aisle to. You took one last deep breath and looked ahead. The door swung open to the outside. You noticed the beautiful archway of flowers draped in the deep red roses you chose for flowers. Something you didn’t plan, and you felt your stomach flutter knowing Gojo was behind it. The walk down the aisle looked like it was going to be forever, but in reality, it was very short.You heard the ooo’s and ah’s of the guests. The quiet whispers of how beautiful you and your dress looked.

You kept your eyes locked on your soulmate. You knew that everyone would be looking at you. As is traditional but you didn’t want to ever forget this moment where you swore you saw tears in your soon to be husband’s eyes. The rest of the ceremony went rather quickly. Gojo’s vows made all the women cry, and your vows to him were sweet. You’d invite everyone to a reception following the ceremony. While the guests were guided to drinks and appetizers before a meal, you, Gojo, and your wedding party were whisked away for photos. As the photographer took pictures, your smiles never faded, the memories would last an eternity, and you couldn’t wait to see what your future held.

#Gojo x reader #soulmate au #cute and fluffy #saturo gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru #gojo saturo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk satoru #jjk soulmate AU

132 notes · View notes

nightklok · 3 years

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Title: 'Cause I've been hurt so many times, I need someone who will try to soothe me, and not use me Pairing: Abigail Remeltindtdrinc/Pickles the Drummer Rating: E (For one future smut scene but chapter one is T-rated) Tags: Fake dating, Additional tags on AO3 Summary: Abigail considers herself great at her job; she knows how to make a successful album and her track record shows it. Dethklok proved to be the biggest challenge yet but she learned to overcome any hurdle thrown her way. However, what she didn’t anticipate was Seth’s second wedding. Specifically, Pickles’ mother getting on his case about finding a date to the wedding. Logically, she decides to be his fake date for the wedding. Just fake a relationship for a few months until the wedding then 'mutually' break it off; should be easy enough. It’s just the most renowned music producer and most popular musician fake dating. Surely no feelings or trouble will rise out of this.

Chapter One on Ao3 Here! Chapter one is also under the cut

Abigail had learned quickly that working with Dethklok was oftentimes like walking through those Halloween hay mazes blindfolded. Years upon years of working with pretentious celebrities, tight deadlines, and challenges that were thrown her way would never prepare her for working with them. For a group of five who lived together and knew each other the best, it didn’t always mean that they thought the same way and one would think they finally learned what worked best for them after years of working. But for some reason, they continuously went with the same method that never worked out because it seemed like the best to them. And clearly, it wasn’t.

She was no stranger to challenges so when Dethklok proved to be one, she did her usual process of breaking through to them. And that was asking questions to the right people. Charles stated it was just how they were. Knubbler said they were a bunch of dumb jackoffs so she had to hold the least amount of expectations for them...and lower it. Melmord had offered her weed because it would be the only way she could ever handle working with them. Twinkletits had suggested unresolved trauma and perhaps banana stickers would solve it.

She would find soon enough that everyone was right in their own suggestions but it didn’t mean she followed through with any of them. It didn’t take long to figure out that scheduling private sessions with each individual band member was a lot better compared to them being together only to yell at each other. Within a few days of the focus being more on private sessions, the difference being made was incredible. They seemed to thrive better under one-on-one time and having the group meetings at the end of the day so they could go over their progress had helped incredibly.

The only problem that she couldn’t solve was their old habits. Most of the time the sessions were either forgotten or recordings had to take a week or longer just to make sure the sound was perfect. They were still five people with different ideas of how the album could be better; it would be hard to find common ground and even harder to get them to be responsible under her schedule.

It didn’t mean every member was a thorn in her side though. Pickles and Skwisgaar were some of the more responsible ones compared to the rest. They’d sometimes forget to show up but that was expected.

Skwisgaar did have a certain way of speaking about music she couldn’t quite understand but she found herself slowly understanding him the more they recorded his sessions. It became like learning a new language but less on the fun part. Luckily, he was never one to speak much regardless; music did the talking for him and that was a good enough language for them to understand.

And Pickles, despite his years of experience under the spotlight, wasn’t the pretentious celebrity she expected him to be when they recorded together. He did his work without much complaint, left when she was satisfied and his first-week recording for a song would be the last as there generally wasn’t much left for him to retake. He normally trusted her judgment and any criticisms offered were never given for the sake of belittling her. It came from a place of experience and knowledge and it became something she quickly respected him for. He still occasionally missed his recordings, however, but with how time felt so rapid in getting things in order, she didn’t notice he actually began showing up more often.

He couldn’t show up one day due to a last-minute scheduling conflict that day and since he had a valid excuse, she didn’t expect him to show up at all. Deciding to not let those hours go to waste, she spent it contacting Knubbler for a quick meeting. He sent her the tracks he finished for her to listen to and she offered her critique. They were tossing track after track at one another to see what sticks and eventually something did. After sending him the latest track to fix-up by the end of their meeting, she checked her email to go more into the boring parts of her job.

She loved her job without a doubt but it didn’t mean there were some parts she actually dreaded doing. Emails were one of them; business language, having to wait up to a day for a response, and everything else just to show she was a professional despite her name being tied to so many influential things. Maybe she was famous enough to sign off her emails with a ‘k thx’ but didn't quite know if it was even worth the impending backlash soon after. She was known for her professionalism, not lack of.

But the album wouldn’t be finished for quite a while so she simply had to make do with what she could. Regardless, the marketing director wanted to listen to one of the demo songs. The day was winding down, she just had to spend an extra hour or two in the recording studio, then she could grab food, take a long bath and watch a movie until she fell asleep.

The motivation of food and a chance to relax was enough to look through her emails once more as she played the finished track. She didn’t hear the knock on the door but she did hear the door opening but didn’t turn around. She had expected it to be a klokateer doing some late cleaning.

“Abigail?” A voice all too familiar filled the silence. As she turned around, Pickles closed the door behind him quietly as if to not disturb her (even though he already did). He seemed a bit sheepish as he put his hands in his pockets to play off a calm attitude, “I just wanted to know if you still needed me.”

“Well, it’s not the first time you didn’t show up to a session, Pickles.” She answered a little too bluntly. It came off harsher and she had almost expected him to be offended by it but he shrugged instead, “Charles told me you wouldn’t have been able to come today, anyway.”

“Okay, yeah, that’s true I have bailed out on a few sessions, but I was planning on showing up to today’s session. I promise.”

She folded her arms, leaning back against the chair. It was new territory having Pickles actually show up when he wasn’t meant to. It didn’t seem like he was there for anything else too, “And you really mean that?”

He casually held up his right hand in a three-finger salute, “Scout’s honor...if I was a Boy Scout, that is. But I’m here now. That should be enough proof, right?” He grinned at her before he walked to the recording booth, “I got this beat stuck in my head I wanna get out of my system. Won’t take too much of your time.”

She glanced at the clock; it was still early enough to record a few takes and he did seem excited to record. Might as well give some time to humor him, “Alright, you get one hour to impress me.”

“I’ll make it count,” He finished her sentence as he closed the door. Taking the drumsticks and headphones, he took a seat in front of the drum kit and quickly prepared, “This is for uhhh...what did we call 8?”

“ Uncensor My Songs On The Radio You Fucking Tool. ”

“Yeah, that’s it! Anyway, I think I figured out why it doesn’t fit on my end. Can you play from the beginning?”

“Sure, get ready in five seconds” It took just a few clicks to get to the song he wanted. She let the metronome play for just a few seconds for him to get the beat before hitting the record button as soon as the song played.

As soon as the song played, Pickles began without hesitation. The sound was much different compared to his other takes...and it fit perfectly as he had said. She waited though; listened to every hit and snare intensely for a mistake to come and screw his take over. But that moment never happened and before she knew it the song was over.

“How did I do?” He grinned at her as he wiped his sweaty forehead with his arm, “Not bad for one take, right?”

Impressive. “Not bad at all. I think this might be just the parts we needed to get the song to be finally done,” She answered as she hit the record button to pause the recording. She made sure to save the file and backed up the file into her work email. (Charles had requested she make backup copies of each recording without the boys’ knowledge when she began working. Just in case).

She watched as Pickles removed his headphones but quickly stopped him, “It’s great but I think another take would be good to have, right?”

“Oh C’mon! Isn’t it great as it is?!” He pleaded. He was foolish to think he could impress her with just one take.

“I’m not denying that it’s great but I’m sure you would be able to do another take if you got it all memorized, right?” She answered. The tone of her voice just shifted slightly enough to indicate a challenge and that’s all that Pickles needed to hear from her.

“Don’t think I can do it, huh?” He smiled back at her as he put the headphones back on. It was a challenge he could easily win, after all, but she was never one to even let him believe it would be easy. The rush of it and the feeling of adrenaline starting to kick in made it all the more tempting, “Well get the song playing again. I won’t stop until you’re satisfied.”

“You’re gonna end up tiring yourself out, Pickles.”

“You can let me off the hook then if you’re so worried about me.” He answered with the signature lopsided grin he gave out as freely as sweets, “I think there are some restaurants around that we can go to if you still haven’t eaten yet.”

Bargaining and banter had become something that they learned to communicate with. If there was anyone else in the room, there was no way she would be talking so loosely with him. They were alone however and would be for a long time so it became easier to shake off the layer of professionalism she had to keep up with all day. However, the remaining part of her brain that was still in work mode rejected his offer despite the temptation being far too great, “Not a chance; you walked yourself into this one...But if you wow me just early enough, I might take you up on your offer.”

“Get the song playing again and tell me when to stop.”

The truth was she was already satisfied by the third take but she did let him keep going at least two more times for good measure. By the time she said he was finished, Pickles’ legs were sore but it was nothing he wasn’t used to. Five takes weren’t bad at all and he found himself confident in the progress.

“Not bad, Pickles. I think there’s something there I can take for the recording.” Abigail answered with a grin that he tiredly returned.

“Hm, not satisfied yet, or just wanna keep my ego down?”

“Maybe.” She watched him put the headphones and drumsticks away before exiting the recording studio.

“I wanna hear it though. Play the best track.” He went to the mini-fridge and offered her a beer which she declined.

“Just get me a coke. The drink, I mean. I’ll play the best track in a second,” She had already labeled the track files by a number scale and taken notes so she didn’t need to relisten. He set the can of coke beside her as he watched her take a few moments to look through the notes before finally deciding on the best track. She quickly spliced it in with the demo and hit play.

Pickles already flopped on the couch, on his second can of beer already somehow (She didn’t know if it was impressive or horrifying). He didn’t say anything while the song played, leaned back against the couch. When it ended he asked, “Is that the best one?”

“Well, I think it is. It’s the one that doesn’t even need much editing. The others are just as great too, in all honesty,” She answered as she checked her notes briefly. She could go into great detail over the tracks, maybe even explain why the tracks were a perfect fit for a song but she didn’t want to ramble. And besides, he seemed a little bit bothered, “But what do you think?”

“Hm. Not as good as I thought it would be,” He said a little sullenly, “Nate’s gonna wanna delete it. I just know it.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think he’d want you to delete them especially when he knows you’re having a hard time with this song. They’re all pretty good but if you want to talk with Knubbler since he’ll be doing most of the editing, just give him a call tomorrow.”

“Do you even think it’s good?”

“Of course. If I wasn’t satisfied enough, I would’ve had you still record a few more takes.”

That was an answer that seemed to satisfy him at least as he didn’t say anything else in retaliation. He only asked to play the track again, and finished his second can of beer, “I guess if you think it’s fine, I’ll take your word for it. It’s probably getting late isn’t it?”

“Come in tomorrow and you can listen to it again. If you really aren’t satisfied with it, you can try again,” She offered. She checked at her watch briefly; 10:45 PM. How has it been almost two hours already?

“Yeah, I think that sounds like a plan. We can put a stop to it for now. But uh, sorry for wasting your time.”

She shrugged, “You’re not, Pickles. Don’t worry about it. I would’ve left around this time anyway.”

“Okay, if you say so.” With a shrug, he shifted his mood and stood up. He didn’t seem to sulk longer than he usually did, probably because it was already late and they were both tired, “Did you still wanna eat?”

“Don’t you usually eat with your bandmates?” Usually, mealtimes were the quickest and easiest ways to find them if she needed to. Having memorized that schedule, she knew that dinner was about a few hours ago...or a few hours from now depending on what they did that day.

“Yeah but not today; Offdensen really had us doing interviews all fuckin’ day. I don’t think I’ve eaten lunch yet and I guess you didn’t get dinner either?”

“Nope. I was planning to, anyway.” A late dinner invitation was not rare to get but it was rarer to get one by someone she wouldn’t mind having dinner with. Their relationship with each other was always professional, and he also had years of experience in the music business outside Dethklok. It always felt refreshing to talk to someone who shared the same interests as her. She put her laptop away in her briefcase once she saved all her files; her night was officially done, “Is there someone even able to make dinner at this time?”

“There should be. If not, there are probably leftovers in the fridge. Or we can order pizza, it’s completely your call.”

She slung the briefcase over her shoulder, following him to the hallway. After shutting and locking the door to the recording studio (Charles gave the only keys to her and Knubbler), she walked with him to the kitchen where the conversation of dinner slowly shifted to music and almost anything they could cram in the next two hours.

And by the end of that night, the late dinner invitations became frequent and she had accepted every single one. He always hung around by her last hour of work, even if it meant staying up late. It only meant ordering food to be delivered to them as Pickles convinced her to watch a film she hadn’t seen in years or her convincing him to watch one of her favorite guilty pleasure sitcoms.

For the most part, it was assumed she was just working with him on the album. No one really needed to know about the breaks where they shared a beer and gossiped about the celebrities they had interacted with before. As far as Knubbler and everyone knew, she was using most of the two hours to perfect his recording.

But just a few months later, the hangouts and late-night dinner invitations stopped in their tracks with no warning whatsoever.

She wondered at first if it was something she had done. But then it began affecting his work and it was clear he was distracted about something. She knew and learned enough about him that he was a perfectionist when it came to the drums; he was always a person who wanted to do his job correctly when it came to something he really did care about at the end of the day. Music was his passion, after all. And if he didn’t have passion for the things he cared about the most, then something was going on.

“Do you want to take a break, Pickles?” She asked. It was currently her fifth time asking the same question that week alone.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s keep going.” He answered as he picked up his drums and waited for her to press record.

She didn’t say anything else after that and she let him leave after a few hours. He left before she could get a word out and she would be met with the rising feeling that something bad was about to happen and recordings that not even Knubbler could salvage.

A few days later, she figured out what happened. It took a text from the staff group chat and an email that contained a video to piece the puzzle together.

“Hey, Neon Genesis Evan gail ion. It’s me, your coworker, Seth.”

She did not watch the rest of the video (sober) and instead asked about the video in the group chat. Seth was never invited to the chat for the same reason Melmord was not invited to the second wedding of Seth and whatever poor woman he got roped up with.

Just by that video and conversation, she had connected why Pickles might be upset. It had something to do with the wedding, sure, but what specifically about it? Was it that he had known the girl Seth planned to marry? She wanted to ask so many questions but limited herself to three. But even those three questions were quickly narrowed down to one, then none at all when she realized it would be harder to pry anything out of him.

But, as advised by Knubbler, it was best to keep going. He’d probably breakthrough midway through a recording session. Being someone who knew to listen to others, she listened to his advice for at least a few more days.

She waited those few days and then two more. It was clear whatever was bothering him was still going to continue bothering him until the end of time probably. She had to talk to him against their better judgments; it felt like the only option available to her.

It was a session that lasted over seven hours and she was sure both of them were getting frustrated on their own ends. No amount of coffee or whiskey could even cure the boredom and annoyance that was of a session that would lead to nowhere. It was better to just cut things short and talk about it. If not even the drums could help him feel better, how serious was the situation?

She pressed the intercom button when the song finished and she immediately hit delete. There was no way to salvage the song, “Pickles, would you mind if we talk?”

His expression was perplexed for a moment before he resigned to his fate, not giving much of a protest, “Alright,” he answered with a sigh. He set his drumsticks down as he walked out of the booth, taking a seat by the couch.

She was never all that good at talking to people about feelings in all honesty. And he seemed like a rather emotional guy, to begin with. There were a few moments of awkward silence between them as she tried to find what a good way to start the conversation would be, “I think we know that you seem distracted lately. What’s been bothering you?”

And despite all her mental preparations that he would find it hard to pry open, he actually opened up quite honestly, “Well you know about the wedding right?”

“Yeah, he invited me too.” She answered as she thought back to the weird video message Seth had sent her. She wondered if she should even make a comment about that but decided against it, “You don’t want him to get married or something?”

“I don’t care about that. He could get married as many times as he wants; He’s still getting a fucking Vitamix. But it’s not about that,” He answered, “It’s my mom. She’s been blowing up my phone all week asking about who I’m bringing with me to Seth’s wedding. Keeps talking about how I should settle down, find someone to marry, or whatever. But I don’t have the time to date!”

She stared at him and didn’t say a single word until he caved in.

“Okay, time’s not the problem but dating while you’re this famous is fucking hard. You must’ve seen that public divorce in ‘89 right?”

She definitely remembered. She was on college radio at the time and had taken over someone’s show. It was either some debate or public opinion show and that was probably one of the more shows she had ever experienced. Did it help that she was a fan of his music back in the day? No, but she would not admit that “I kind of knew about it. It sounded like it was an awful divorce for you. But you were only nineteen, weren’t you? You shouldn't stop yourself from dating for something that happened when you were just a teen.”

“Nineteen, thirty-five, ninety, does it matter? It was as awful behind the scenes as it was in public. I’m not gonna bore you with that but basically, I’m done with dating. And she won’t see that!”

“Well...maybe one of your bandmates can be your date?” She offered.

“Nah, been there, done that, it didn’t work out. And plus, would you even fake date any of them?”

She thought for a moment, “Yeah, smart choice.”

“It’s gotta be someone she has never met before to make it more believable.”

“I see,” Abigail paused. She had waited, expecting almost, for Pickles to look at her, drop the ‘except…’, and plead for her to be his fake date but he didn’t. He only reached into the mini-fridge to pull out a beer, offering one to Abigail who accepted. She didn’t like the beer and had to hide her disgusted look as she took a sip and tried to set it down casually.

The conversation had died out like that. She kept on sipping the beer and hoping he would say something. But he didn’t and it became clear that she had to be the one to speak up. There was only one possible solution to it and it felt like the most obvious., “If you can’t find anyone else, I can be your date.” She offered.

Pickles looked at her like she had asked him to play the drums with his mouth, “I respect you too much to get you involved with my family. They’re like...leeches that suck the fuckin’ life out of you! This is a me problem, you don’t need to fix that. ”

“Well...it’s affecting your drumming too.” she pointed out as she looked at him, “And trust me, I know what I’m getting into. I can handle it, Pickles. I work for Dethklok and I’ve certainly been through a lot more than just a wedding party. I appreciate your concern, but let me help.”

“Abigail...” He almost pleaded.

“I owe you, remember?”

He clearly did remember, “but-”

“He invited me anyway, Pickles. I’m still going out of work obligations; I promise this won’t bother me at all.”

“But you know it’s gonna have to be a lot more than just going to my brother’s wedding right? My mom will want to meet you and who knows what other folks are gonna try and meet you too.”

That was one thing more terrifying than the branding ceremony. Was it even worth it to complete the album?, “Then basically we’d just be faking a relationship until the ceremony?”

“I guess yeah...and that’s...three months from now? You really don’t-”

“As I said, I know what I’m getting into. I want to help you and if we have to do this for a week, months, or a year, it’s okay with me.”

Pickles said nothing for the longest time. He held the half-empty can of beer, nulling over his options that probably didn’t help with him being slightly intoxicated, “You won’t hate me right?”

It caught her off guard almost but she remained on track, “Of course not. I promise,” If she hated him, that would mean there would be no more all-nighters together but she wouldn’t admit that.

“Okay. Just so you know you can back out of this anytime, I won’t be offended if you do.” He said finally and that had sealed the deal, “But we need to keep this a secret which I know is probably obvious enough. If the guys find out, they’ll never stop teasing us about it.”

“But if all we really need to do is just please your parents, I don’t think that will be a problem. Don’t worry about me, Pickles; it’ll be fine. I promise that I will back out if I don’t want to do this anymore.”

It was clear he was unsure still and she didn’t know how much more convincing he would really need. But perhaps that was something to let sit and process; and hopefully, in time, he’d warm up to the idea enough to feel like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

There was nothing else she could really do at this point she knew. It was a quick resolution but a slow payoff and she had done what she could for the day, "How about you take the rest of the day off? If you wanna give recording the song a shot tomorrow, we can."

“Alright,” He threw out the half-finished beer can, beer spilled from the can, some of it splashing into the sides of the trash can and leaving a potent smell of beer. She made a reminder to herself to have a klokateer replace the trash can later. But it would be quickly forgotten when he spoke up again, “I uh, appreciate it, Abigail. I really do."

"It's not a problem at all. I hope you know that you can always turn to me if you need anything?"

"I do, yeah, and uh the same right back," He paused for a moment, "I'll take you out to dinner sometime if you want. It's the least I can do."

"That would be nice but I don't need a big fancy dinner. I'm fine eating here, and watching a movie." She answered. She wanted to speak more but her phone began ringing and she saw that it was from Charles, "I should probably take this."

"Oh yeah, go ahead. And uh, if you wanna grab some dinner again you know where to find me. I'm sorry I bailed out on you this week, I'll make it up to you." He quickly left before she could speak.

All alone in the studio, she took a moment to compose herself. Refusing to give herself even more time to let what she had gotten herself into sink in, she answered the phone.

It was only three months but somehow this new task felt like it would end up being the hardest task yet. But, she had an album to finish. It was just part of the job, right?

#metalocalypse #abigail remeltindtdrinc #pickles the drummer #picklegail #my writing #goddd im not sure about this but this has been sitting in my drafts for nearly...4 months now its time to release it sdflj

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peachyteabuck · 4 years

Text

clear the clouds (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: after weeks of bucky feels down, natasha knows exactly who to call to make him feel better

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 2,030

trigger warnings: sickening fluff, also - please don’t take kitten rearing advice from fanfiction

notes: this is a birthday present for the effervescent @m00nlightdelights, who asked for bucky barnes interacting with kittens. happy birthday babe!

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Natasha was the one who called you – asking something many dream for but very few get to experience. It’s hard to transport that many tiny, wriggling animals across town and very few are willing to pay the exorbitant, arbitrary amount of money you had made some intern put on the website after the twentieth call asking about the particular service.

People, apparently, really want to rent a bunch of kittens for several different types of events – finals weeks at universities and rich high schools, bat and bar mitzvahs, once even a wedding. Why those event coordinators can’t rent service animals is beyond you, and why they always expect you to do these things for free is also a mystery.

No matter why those people wanted your kittens, you closed the service except for incredibly rare cases.

One of those incredibly rare cases, per the usual path of your life, involved Natasha Romanoff.

You owed her a favor from a few years back, when she made sure an ex-boyfriend of yours…well, for legal purposes you can’t talk about it, but Natasha made sure he never bothered you or your friends ever again.

Natasha’s got enough tact not to bring the year-long ordeal up – just said she wanted to “cash in” on your side of the bargain. You sighed into the office landline when she told you she was calling for her favor, the exhale so deep it was still audible despite the barking and scratching and the menagerie of other noises.

It takes you a second to collect yourself, to shove the memories back into that little box your therapist had you build and then tuck into the back of your brain.

Despite not being able to see her face, you can tell she’s frowning and has furrowed her brow. “You good?”

You nodded, then remembered how phones work. “Yeah,” you let out a small sigh. “Yeah, I’m fine. You want the kittens at Avengers Towers this weekend for a few hours to help that friend of yours-“

“Bucky,” Natasha interrupts you. “His name is Bucky. And you should go out with him.”

Despite still knowing how phone works, you roll your eyes. “Didn’t you just say he spent the last week bedridden because of depression. It doesn’t exactly sound like he’s in the right state of mind for a relationship.”

Your friend scoffs into the phone, shutting what you think is a thick book for dramatic audial effect. “And you spend fifteen hours a day at your shelter because it gives you an excuse not to see people. I don’t need you to marry him, I’m saying maybe a coffee date would be good for you.”

There’s a pause where you search for a sarcastic response, but Natasha beats you to it.

“Actually, no,” she says, voice dripping with a lovable dryness you can’t help but admire. “It will be good for both of you.”

Another pause while you recalculate your sarcastic response cortex. After a deeply silent thirty seconds, you give up.

“Fine,” you acquiesce. “But you and Wanda are helping me and you’re buying me lunch for that day and you’re helping me during adoption day at the museum next month.”

Somehow, you can hear Natasha’s wide and triumphant smile. “You got it, kid.”

And with that, you hang up before falling back in your office chair. You swear, that woman could convince you to do anything.

Fucking spies, you think before putting the event in the shelter’s e-calendar.

The day arrives both too quickly and not quickly enough – your brain caught between something akin to “existential dread” and “oh my God my friend is trying to set me up with her friend and what if it doesn’t work but what if it does” the entire week before the planned event. During the night before you down quadruple your normal dose of melatonin to fall asleep after spending three entire hours trying on all your clothes to plan the right outfit (in the end, you chose an unusually nice pair of leggings and a plan sweater along with boots cute enough to fool a man into thinking they’re fancy while still protecting your feet from the end-stage winter air outside.

(Also, the leggings and sweater are the easiest things to lint roll kitten fur off of you for, say, a date at an upscale coffee shop you normally wouldn’t even think of going to, but that’s nobody’s business and you totally one hundred percent did not think about that when trying the outfit on.)

You meet Natasha and Wanda at the shelter the next morning, you getting there before them to gather the necessary supplies from the back. Despite them promising to help you load your car with kittens and kitten-adjacent items, you still didn’t want either of them messing with the precious organization system you’d spent years perfecting (and years training interns and vet techs how to abide by it).

Luckily, with your precautions and time management – and despite Wanda’s need to kiss every kitten (yes, every kitten) as they were loaded into crates – you arrive at the infamous Stark Tower right on time.

Set up of the whole thing doesn’t take long, Natasha successfully leading the way through the maze of which is the expansive building. You pass a few people you recognize from Natasha’s stories and the news, and a few others who you don’t but still smile as they pass (whether they were just being nice or smiling at the kittens in the crates you were holding, you refused to decide).

It takes a few elevator rides, but eventually you get to the desires floor and room – Wanda knocking on the door after setting her Ikea bag of playpen supplies on the carpeted floor.

A response is nearly immediate. “Go away!” a gruff voice calls, muffled by the thick walls.

Natasha and Wanda both roll their eyes. “Shut up and open the door!” the former replies.

There’s no verbal response, but you do hear shuffling before the door opens to reveal a figure more brick house than man. His hair is messy, sweatshirt a size too large and solid black but with jeans that fit perfectly. His boots – much thicker and blacker than yours – are dirty.

“What do you want?” he grumbles.

Natasha remains unphased by the man’s demeanor. “We have kittens. Now move out of my way so we can set all this shit up and you can pet some cute animals.”

Bucky gives her a look and rolls his eyes, but steps asides and holds the door open for the three of you nonetheless.

Twenty minutes later, Bucky found in the middle of the four-foot wide pen, bewildered. He’s done a lot of things in his life, many of which would be impossible for (nearly) anyone else to accomplish. He speaks thirty languages (plus Morse code and ten variations of sign language), he’s hunted bears with his bare hands, he’s survived Russian winters and summers in the Amazon rainforest.

Yet, somehow, the thing that stunts him beyond reproach is a small play pen filled with about forty tiny, six-week old kittens that are all their own form of chaotic. Bucky doesn’t know where to look, let alone how to grab the ones that catch his eye. He’s terrified of crushing them like bug caught under a hardcover book, of breaking their tiny ribs or tiny legs or tiny necks.

He watched you intensely when you and Natasha and Wanda pulled them out of their crates, watching how you held them and which one allowed you to give them kisses and which one chased after the strands in Natasha’s ponytail. He noticed which ones curled up in small spheres in the corners of the pen, which ones immediately bopped about, which ones immediately sought out the bottle of formula you’d prepared and which ones nibbled at the liquidy wet food that had been scooped into a neon blue bowl.

Each tiny animal was different, and it amazed him.

There was this one cat, a fluffy little white one with one ear and splotches of buttery yellow seems the boldest, eyeing Bucky as if the man was this small cat’s Everest. The floral collar (one of those break-away ones, you had told him, meant to keep the kittens from getting hurt but allowing the rescuers to identify them by name and rescue identification number) has a small nameplate – a gold one – with “Squirt” etched into the metal.

“Squirt,” Bucky repeats under his breath. “Nice to meet you, little guy.”

The cat gives him a small, pterodactyl-like scream in response, as if the small animal is too young to speak in any other tone but “loud.”

“HELLO LARGE CAT,” he imagines the cat saying. “HELLO, I AM A SMALLER CAT. DO YOU WISH TO BE CLIMBED?”

Bucky smiles at the imagined conversation, allowing the brave creature to dig its tiny claws into the leg of his jeans just above his socked feet (he took off his boots when he arrived in the room, as per your request), the start to his magnificent journey.

“I do not mind being climbed,” the man answers out loud. For once, he doesn’t take in the entire room’s emotions and reactions before he says something – he just talks, even if that freedom from paranoia is only allowing him to speak to someone (or thing) that can’t talk back.

Squirt gets to Bucky’s knee before screeching once more, just as tenacious as when he was on the floor. “THIS IS MUCH HARDER THAN I EXPECTED,” is all Squirt says.

Bucky laughs, ignoring the several other kittens who are trying to claw up Bucky’s metal arm – each unsuccessful but determined to continue to try. “I’m a lot bigger than you realized, huh?”

Squirt takes a few more wobbly steps, tail high in the air, before looking to Bucky for guidance as the tiny creature stands on his thigh. “I WOULD LIKE SOME HELP, PLEASE,” Bucky interprets from the screeches.

He laughs, not moving. Another kitten, this time an equally tiny short-haired black cat named “Foosball” attempts to follow in Squirt’s literal and metaphorical footsteps, but gives up when she gets to Bucky’s knees. This, too, makes him let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, kid. You’re doing just fine.”

You watch Bucky’s interactions with the kittens intensely – telling yourself you just need to make sure he doesn’t hurt them accidentally. In truth, he was handling them the best you’d seen anyone outside your shelter in a long time – gentle, firm, attentive. His pseudo-conversations warm your heart, and the only thing that breaks your concentration is one of the larger kittens walking up to the barrier of the pen to scream at you from inside her prison that she was hungry. Natasha and Wanda had long left, citing some bureaucratic problem that was probably bullshit but, regardless of accuracy, left you and Bucky alone.

“What does she want?” the man asks, body still frozen as Squirt climbs his chest.

“Butterfly wants to eat,” you reply while you grab one of the syringes with formula.

“Why can’t she eat from the bowl of food?” he asks. It’s not accusatory, just curious. It’s sweet, extremely so, and makes you realize that Natasha was right – this is good for him.

“At six weeks, most kittens are weened from their mothers or,” you pick Butterfly up and hold her against you as she suckles at the plastic nozzle. “In this case, syringes. But sometimes it just takes a little longer.”

Bucky hmms, turning his attention back to the kittens before he speaks again. “Do you want to get coffee?”

You swallow, looking at him look at Squirt. “Like…with you?”

Bucky nods as he sits up, the brave kitten now on his shoulder and several others vying for his attention. “I, uh,” he swallows. “Yeah. Coffee. With me. Like a, uh, a date. With me. Where we get coffee.”

You giggle a little, both at his flustered speech and at Butterfly’s post-feeding tiredness. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Cool,” is all Bucky replies, the both of you now focused back on the kittens.

Dammit, you think. Natasha was right again.

#bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes fluff #maya tag #lukis writes stuff

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idreamtofmanderleyagain · 3 years

Text

This post is a response to a reply I got on this post about Hades and Persephone HERE. It involves a LOT of discussion of rape as it applies to the myth, so massive Trigger Warning for Rape.

princess-nazario:

I'm not directly against modern retellings where Hades and Persephones relationship is consensual and could be about escaping toxic motherhood. Many people suffer overprotective/narcissistic mothers today, I think it has a good message- and besides, nobody really wants to hear a story about a girl being kidnapped and raped against her will.

But I hate when people try to say that this consensual version was actually the original myth all along and is ~cool~ and ~feminist~. I hate when people say Hades and Persephone are the most healthy, loving couple in all greek mythology when there are plenty of other underrated couples and figures out there.

I hate it when people try to write off Persephone trauma and allegory for the horrible things young girls had to go through in ancient Greece as "weak" or "unfeminist" labeling female solidarity of trauma and misogyny as "weak" is the exact opposite of feminist.

Like there are plenty of abuse victims out there there are also rape victims, victims of abduction, victims of misogyny all throughout history and today in the modern world. By writing off the pain and suffering of a protagonist who is a victim of rape you are disrespecting and victim-blaming all of these people.

Persephone meant something for all of these victims and survivors knowing that even the goddesses had to go through the things they went through. That even a victim of rape and abduction can still rise as a queen and a goddess, that even after she was raped her story was not done, and although she now has to spend half of the year with her rapist she also gets to see her mother.

In most greek weddings young girls are now apart of their husbands family and never get to see their mothers again. I'd love to see a Persephone retelling that maybe doesn't woobify Hades for once, or show Demeter's perspective and truly explore Persephones experiences in her point of view and shows her rise to power other than just "she was scared at first but now she loves hades and its okay!!"

Was she homesick? How did she adapt to her situation? Did she resent Hades for what he did to her even though he thinks he didnt do anything wrong? Did Hecate help her even though she was scared? How did she feel about being treated like a object or trophy? At what point did she go from a scared little girl to the Dread Queen of the Underworld?

I'm not saying the original versions of the myth where Persephone was kidnapped and raped are peak feminist and great for women, after all this was a culture that gave little voice to women- but what I am saying is that we shouldn't erase or ignore women's trauma and female solidarity for some dull romance story.

You can write a story about Demeter being a toxic mother and Hades/Persephone as consensual, Persephone perhaps being an idea of women's self discovery and independence and agency- but do not forget or refuse to acknowledge the misogynistic and non-consensual traumas of women this tale is allegorical too as well. Do not label THEIR traumas as weak or feminist.

@princess-nazario I’m not sure why you sent me this in a reply, I thought maybe you might be new to tumblr so just so you know, when you have a large response like this typically you start a conversation through reblogging rather than replying. If you had other reasons for it being reply-specific, I’m making the decision to respond as a post because this subject is really important to me and you’ve touched on something that I felt needed an open response.

So, to start with, I have to tell you that I believe you did not actually understand the context I was coming from with the original post. To be fair to you, I think this is a topic that has a lot of missing context, especially for younger people who A) may not have the same educational background (formal or otherwise) or familiarity with the subject or B) have not been around literary circles or fandom long enough to be familiar with what these kinds of archetypes have meant to women in those spaces. When I wrote the original post, I was kind of speaking specifically to an audience that I know is already familiar with these things.

So, while I think it’s perfectly valid for you as an individual to view Hades and Persephone through the very specific lens you’ve painted it, It is probably not completely accurate to what the original myth was about and is in fact in my opinion it’s own form of feminist revision of an ancient tale. Personally, I view this kind of take as part of the problem I was expressing in the original post, just from the opposite perspective. If that upsets you I hope you’ll please at least bear with me to get where I’m coming from with this.

Hades and Persephone comes from a culture in which rape was extremely normalized in comparison to ours. According to my historian partner, when soldiers conquered people/sacked a city they would rape en masse and this was not considered a war crime. Marriage involved rape via social coercion and likely via physical violence anyway. Whether or not rape was considered wrong had a lot to do with the status of the perpetrator and the victim, i.e. if a highborn woman was raped by a poor man, he was a criminal. But if a highborn man raped a poor woman, it would be fine. A serial rapist in a small community would probably get his head chopped off. While it’s not impossible that women told this story to process their trauma, it should be noted that this myth existed in a society where men were the dominant voices and they were pretty much cool with rape.

What happens in the myth is more representative of what marriage actually looked like for girls (and their mothers) of that time period, and was meant as a way to explain the changing of the seasons. When you hear the phrase “The Rape of Persephone,” it’s relevant to mention that the phrasing of “rape” is both a more modern interpretation of the story than the ancients (as in it’s a phrase from the last few hundred years, to my knowledge), and by today’s standards an older use of the term. “Rape” does not always refer to sexual rape, and in this case was specifically referring to the kidnapping aspect. Could literal sexual rape have happened? Maybe, in the context of how arranged marriages like this often involved coercive rape. But it’s worth noting that when Zeus rapes women, it’s never ambiguous like this, it just is a thing that happens and there are no euphemisms about it, no “fade to black”.

Either way it’s kind of a moot point. To say that Hades and Persephone specifically was intended as a tale about an evil man raping a young girl and was intended for girls to process that trauma ultimately isolates it from it’s context within all the other stories of the greek pantheon, in which rape happens all of the time and is normalized - let alone the actual culture it came from. It’s honestly viewing an ancient culture through a modern Christian framework, where the “god of the underworld” is akin to the monstrous devil.

Could women of the time have used it to process their trauma regardless? It’s possible, but I digress.

My point is, there are two extremes on the table here. Either a revisionist tale of Perspehone in which she willingly chooses hades and they have a tumblr approved sweet and pure relationship, or a revisionist tale in which Hades is the quintessential representation of a rapist and Persephone’s story is entirely about overcoming her rape trauma.

Neither of which are true, and neither of which appeal to me. Again, if either appeal to you or anyone else is fine, but my original post was rooted in my frustrations with girls on tumblr who are unfamiliar with the very complex contexts of both the myths and of feminist reimagining that came before the time of tumblr.

It would be more accurate to say that what I was speaking of in the original post is how girls on tumblr have erased the complex power struggle inherent to the literary trope of the Demon Lover (think “Phantom of the Opera”). You can see this trope in many subgenres, including Gothic Romance and the current Monster Boyfriend trend.

Again, it’s very important here to understand that I am talking about allegories. Not literal people perpetrating literal power struggles or violence or having literal relationships, toxic or otherwise.

The trope of the Demon Lover in women’s fiction is often a framework about a woman struggling between the precipice of her own desires vs the patriarchy. He is often framed as an outsider to the normal patriarchy but a being who has the power to move within it, often more so than the average man. He embodies both the allure and danger of masculinity simultaniously. Often there is a solidarity between the heroine and the Demon Lover, because they have something spiritual/emotional which binds them. They exist in solidarity above the social expectations of women’s lives. And yet there is often a power struggle in that narrative, where the heroine must find her own power in balance with the Demon Lover.

In a lot of cases where the Demon Lover is written by men (aka many of the pop culturally significant iterations that women in fandom tend to love), he is indeed portrayed as purely a monster, or whatever temptation he represented is treated as something the woman must ultimately reject and return to social expectations of how she should behave and what she should desire. (Hence why you have so many women in fandom who like to reimagine these dynamics ending with romance).

In effect, the Demon Lover takes on a role for the heroines exploration of her own power in contrast to patriarchal expectations about her role in society and what her sexual and romantic desires should look like.

For a long time, this is how a lot of feminists viewed Hades and Persephone, the Demon Lover trope, and created art based on it. This too is a modern feminist reimagining of the tale.

However, what I see happening on tumblr is a refusal to engage with anything that complex. Instead, what a lot of girls are doing is forcing both Hades/Persephone and any other story which falls under the “Demon Lover” trope (Phantom, Labyrinth, etc.) to be categorized in boxes that fit “purity” sensibilities and are ultimately often embody an unwillingness to engage in challenging, complicated material that doesn’t appeal to black and white thinking. Either Persephone was never in danger because Hades was an uwu soft boy, or Persephone was always threatened by this terrible monstrous abuser and exploration of her reciprocation is wrong.

Personally, I feel this kind of compartmentalizing robs the Demon Lover trope of what makes it compelling and valuable in the first place. It enforces this idea that all depictions of relationships in fiction have to adhere to one specific sensibility of what real world relationships should look like or else be condemned as morally inferior, which is absolutely not the point of the Demon Lover trope and is unfair to the rich history, feminist and less so, that still lives within it. We can do better.

As far as how this story impacts rape survivors, I want to point out that you have absolutely no clue what the people who enjoy Persephone’s tale as a romantic one have endured. Many of them whom I know are indeed rape survivors. Many of them, including myself, are victims of male on female abuse, or otherwise have trauma around the subject of male/female relationships. There are multitudes of ways that women with trauma have long since used the Demon Lover trope to process trauma, and I’m honestly quite tired of the way people on tumblr compartmentalize things in such a way that there is a built-in shame surrounding this subject that many women, including myself, have been trained over the past several years to feel about it. There’s a whole aspect to this that is connected with Twilight and 50 Shades (which are very poor renditions of the Demon Lover trope) and how we as a culture responded to these stories, and how much that has poisoned the ~discourse~.

#Hades and Persephone #Demon Lover #Villain/Heroine #rape tw

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sonickedtrowel · 3 years

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oh.. River/Eleven with 25 - things you said in the back seat of a cab. If it sparks anything for you that'd be amazing, in my head it's at least a little steamy

Hey, so I write very very slow! But I wrote this!! I went back and forth over how horny on main I wanted to be, deleting and rewriting the steamy part, and decided I’ll just put part of it here and link to ao3 for anyone who wants to read the rest 😂 Tbh it might be pushing explicit a tiny bit more than I normally do even though it’s brief so I had to put it behind a link lol.

Somebody say old Eleven young River? Just me? Oh well! Thank you for the prompt!!!

the whole thing on ao3

“Oh, here,” River said, waving to an approaching car on the street, “let’s catch a cab.”

“Don’t you want to walk?” asked the Doctor, sliding his arm around her back. “It’s a beautiful night!”

It was a lovely evening. Spring on Luna always was; it helped that the weather was engineered. It was breezy and warm, the air sweet with the scent of blossoming trees. But after dinner at the sort of restaurant that essentially required time travel to get a booking, River found walking back to the hall of residence a much less appealing proposition.

“I’ve got two hearts, sweetie, not two stomachs. If you want to walk home, you can pick a place with fewer courses next time.”

The Doctor amiably relented, dropping a kiss on her head as he turned to the cab, which had paused on the side of the street. In the 51st century they were sleek, shiny things, all black with tinted glass and a domed roof. “What is that one, a Lunar Link?” he asked. “They’re all autopilot in this decade, aren’t they?”

“All the ones I’ve seen. Why?”

“No reason.” He cleared his throat, opening the door for her to step inside. As he clambered in after her, he quickly produced the sonic from his pocket and aimed it at the control panel.

“Dodging the fare?” River asked as he shut the door. “That’s usually my area.”

“Um, no. Scrambling the CC feed and facial recognition.” She raised an eyebrow expectantly, and he sighed. “Let’s just say we’re… no longer welcome in several of these companies’ cabs.”

She let out a burst of delighted laughter. “And you’re always telling me to keep out of trouble!”

“Because I’ve seen the trouble first-hand!”

“Sounds like you were more participating than observing.”

“Yes, well. You’re a terrible influence,” he grumbled, with poorly disguised fondness.

“In that case,” she said, grasping him by the lapel, “far be it from me to break with tradition.”

“See?” The Doctor smiled as she tugged him closer. “Terrible.”

He hummed contentedly as his lips met hers, and a shiver went through River’s body. She’d just about gotten over being embarrassed by how easily he could disarm her. Imagine, if she’d killed him with just one fleeting brush of her lips, a mockery of a kiss, and never experienced the real thing. What a dreadful waste that would have been.

They were interrupted all too soon by a series of chirping beeps and a polite, slightly robotic voice requesting, “Please input your destination.” They breathlessly broke apart, and the Doctor fumbled for his sonic, buzzed it at the control panel once more, and was already turning back to her as the cab pulled into the street. Their smiling mouths crashed together somewhat messily in their eagerness, and then his arms were around her, his hand under her hip, pulling her to him. River went along gladly, throwing her leg over his hip and settling in his lap.

“Destination?” she asked, brushing a kiss at the corner of his mouth.

“Taking the long way round.” He lifted his hand to her face, tipping her chin up to kiss her properly.

She sighed happily. “Have you always been this agreeable?”

“No,” the Doctor said, his laughing breath fanning over her cheek and sending another shiver down her spine. “And if— god forbid— you run into me when I’m young anytime soon, I’d appreciate it if you tried not to give me any heart attacks.”

“Mmm. I bet you’d like it.”

“Well, yeah, but don’t tell me that.”

She laughed against his lips as he kissed her again, winding her arms around his neck. His hand splayed over her back, keeping her close, while the other lingered against her jaw, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. He always touched her with a tenderness that seemed tinged with desperation; as though she might disappear if he dared to let go. He hardly had to worry. She didn’t want to be anywhere else.

It had been a few months now of settling into life on Luna, settling into being River Song, and beginning to learn her way around their life together, such as it was. Months of leaving her last lecture each Friday afternoon to find him waiting with flowers and dinner plans or an exploding planet they just couldn’t miss. It was good to escape into the wider universe, chasing some danger and excitement after a long week of lectures and essays and pretending to tolerate undergraduates. But this was better.

River wondered if the novelty of being wildly in love would ever wear off. It was her first time with anything like this, after all, and she felt a little at sea sometimes, unsure of what she should expect. If it would ever stop being so intoxicatingly good, and just be… normally pleasant. But the Doctor was much older. And judging by the way her insides melted at the pressure of his hands gripping her hips, the warmth of his breathing over her skin, the soft curve of his tongue behind her teeth— well, it seemed the honeymoon period wasn’t about to end anytime soon.

And that was another thing, she reflected as she fumbled blindly with the buttons on his trousers. There was something very settled about him, too. Something that was just solid: comfortable and trusting and content with her. She couldn’t seem to stop wondering, particularly after her latest bit of research, exactly what the nature of that settledness was.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. She’d barely broken away from his lips when she blurted, “Are we married?”

“What?” The Doctor blinked at her, dazed. In his defence, she did have her hand in his pants.

“Are we married?” she repeated. “I think it’s a reasonable question, in the circumstances.”

His eyebrows lifted and he shook his head slightly, huffing out a breath as he pushed his hair out of his face. “River, you know I can’t tell you.”

“I found a book that says we’re married.”

He groaned, his head collapsing back onto the seat. “I’m sure I’ve told you not to do that.”

“Also found a book that says I’ve killed you,” she added thoughtfully. “Which, in fairness, I did. But the place and the date are wrong.”

“See? A whole lot of nonsense, so no point in filling your head with it.”

“But once you’ve read your own personal future— once you’ve been told what it is, doesn’t it have to happen?”

“Only if it’s true. We’re not all beholden to the prophecies of gossip magazines.” He sat up again, wrapping his arms around her as he began to press warm, lingering kisses to her face, her neck, her shoulder. River stifled a whimper as his parted lips lingered on her throat, sending a ripple of want throbbing through her body as her mind filled with everywhere else she’d like him to put that sweet, soft mouth. Oh, he was far too good at distracting her. Well, she supposed technically she was the one distracting them this time; they’d been busy when she was overcome with the need to question him.

“And is it true?” she stubbornly persisted.

The Doctor lifted his head and watched her silently for a moment, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down her back. “I asked you, once,” he said at last. “Well, I asked if you were married. May have sort of accidentally proposed in the process.”

“Accidentally?”

“I was young.”

“And what did I tell you?”

“The truth,” he laughed, shaking his head and looking at her with such aching affection. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Because once you knew, it had to happen that way?”

“No, not quite. River, the important things— they’re up to us. We always have a choice.”

She looked him over consideringly. “You don’t have a wedding ring.”

“No,” he agreed after a moment, fiddling with his bow tie as he glanced out the window.

“But you could just take it off when you come to see me, since it would be a bit of a giveaway.”

“River,” the Doctor said wearily, “you really need to stop. It’s all spoilers.” When she didn’t object, he pulled her closer, his hand cradling the back of her head.

“Would you even want to be married?” she asked, just before he could kiss her.

He exhaled, patiently studying her face. “Generally speaking, or to you specifically?”

“Is the answer different?”

“Yes.”

River swallowed, her hearts nervously fluttering. “Either I should be insulted, or you’re showing your hand a bit, Doctor,” she said softly.

“Well, I’ll leave that to your judgement, dear,” he murmured, and she finally stopped interrogating him long enough for him to kiss her.

#dr fic #dw fic #the doctor/river song #eleven/river #river song #eleventh doctor #yeeting myself into the sun now #dont read this i said a la elliot #idek why i just had to use a Noun and i'm suffering #travelwithmethen

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averylilyevans · 4 years

Text

it’s your life

i found this old post of mine recently and decided to give it a little update! i was so young when i wrote it, so i had some new ideas to freshen it up. naturally i did this instead of doing my organic post-lab. here it is!

first year is full of frustration and unfamiliarity and a twinge of homesickness. it’s being sorted into a different house than sev, being top of your year, being the one person potter seems to seek out most. it’s befriending marlene and dorcas and mary, staying up late at night while they tell you about all the wizarding world has to offer. it’s discovering quidditch (which you hate) and celestina warbeck (whom you love). it’s trying every candy that marlene’s older brother brings back from honeydukes and accidentally walking through the bloody baron.

second year is sending a tickling charm potter’s way after he calls sev “snevillus.” it’s your first detention directly after, too, and definitely worth it. it’s figuring out remus’ secret and not telling a soul - not even him for the longest - but you don’t care (how could you?) because it’s Remus we’re talking about. it’s helping mary with charms and dorcas with girls and marlene with waking up in the morning. it’s learning (and being awful at) wizards’ chess and turning your beetle into a button first try. it’s sev staring at you from the slytherin’s table and still being in awe of the great hall’s twinkling sky and always taking two helpings of treacle tart.

third year is hogsmeade and arithmancy and divination and potter asking you out for the first time (you not-so-politely decline). it’s spending the majority of october with your legs dangling in the great lake, your friends giggling next to you. it’s studying with sev in the library and trying not to notice the guilty look in his eye. it’s petunia writing to you even less than before because of some normal whale of a man named vernon. it’s sharing a butterbeer with sirius black in hogsmeade because you’ve lost your friends and really, they’ll be right back, but he insists and is actually quite funny and you think you’ve rather misjudged him. it’s going to the kitchens one night with remus, because it’s been a long day and the house elves always have hot chocolate.

fourth year is slug club parties and sneaking off with benji fawcett because parties aren’t your thing and sirius couldn’t make this one. it’s waking up the next morning to marlene telling you she’d run into potter and he was looking rather dejected (you ignore the guilt in your stomach; it’s only there a moment). it’s sitting with dorcas and mary at quidditch matches, watching potter soar through the air like a bird. it’s finally having the nerve to quit divination because crystal balls and prophecies are complete rubbish anyway. it’s thinking sev has been hanging out too much with mulciber and avery and malfoy but getting excuse after excuse in response. it’s trying your first sip of alcohol with dorcas and marlene at christmas, the burn in your throat masking your worry for sev.

fifth year is when all hell really breaks loose. it’s sev asking too many questions about remus and potter being more arrogant than ever before (that sodding snitch) and being so stressed because o.w.l.s are coming up and you have to show your worth. it’s threatening potter for threatening sev by the lake and that word - the one that haunts your brain and creeps into your nightmares. it’s knowing potter didn’t deserve what you said, because your sev is too far gone and in his place is a boy who doesn’t understand what he’s doing (you hope, you pray; the alternative is too much to bear). it’s not taking points away from the marauders even though you’re a prefect, and maybe you’re abusing your power but you can’t bring yourself to care. it’s drinking firewhiskey with marlene in empty classrooms and passing your exams with flying colors. it’s more “i hate you, potter”s and “back at you, evans”s than ever before, but the bite just isn’t there. it’s partnering with peter in potions because he’s absolutely dreadful and you get the sense he feels a little less than compared to his talented friends. it’s your dad getting sick and your world falling apart and sirius and that prank and why why why?

sixth year is regaining control and desperately trying to cling onto normalcy. it’s spending more time with mary and dorcas and marlene. it’s ignoring sev every time he comes around the corner trying to get your attention because you just can’t make excuses for him anymore. it’s going to potter’s house over break after sirius says he’s run away, and the three of you drinking and laughing until the sun comes up. it’s deciding maybe there’s worse things in life than arrogant boys with good intentions. it’s hours and hours of homework and studying because you’re taking more n.e.w.t.-level subjects than anyone knew existed. it’s knowing petunia won’t write you back but sending chocolates on her birthday just in case. it’s discovering the marauders’ secret - why they’re moony, wormtail, padfoot, and prongs - and laughing uncontrollably because they’re just so bloody brilliant. it’s brewing potions for fun and enjoying life instead of just existing. it’s eating breakfast with your friends and the marauders and ignoring the feeling in your stomach when james passes you the juice you like without asking. it’s learning to apparate and mary splinching herself and spending the rest of the evening with marlene and dorcas in the hospital wing. it’s a war brewing outside the castle walls; and when mcgonagall asks if you know what you’d like to do after hogwarts, she sees the fire in your emerald eyes and knows.

seventh year is being head girl and wishing severus hadn’t gone down that road and getting upset when your friends ask you if you like james (why does he have to look so bloody perfect all the time). it’s parties that last until midnight and tutoring scared first years and sneaking into honeydukes with james to get remus chocolates after a full moon. it’s singing at the top of your lungs with marlene and swimming in the great lake with mary. it’s thinking your chance with james is gone because he’s moved on and sirius giving you a look that says are you a bloody idiot? it’s dorcas holding you as you cry because another muggle family has been killed and you don’t know how much more you can take. it’s running out onto the pitch after gryffindor wins the cup and kissing james full on the mouth in front of the whole school because his lips look soft and he’s beautiful and courageous and kind and he feels like home and why have you fought this for so long? it’s ignoring the hurt look in severus’ eye as you make your way back to the castle, james’ strong arm wrapped around your shoulders. it’s flinching when petunia says she’d never make a freak like you her bridesmaid but bringing james to the wedding just to drive her mad. it’s being scared to leave hogwarts because after all these years it’s home, and you can’t imagine a day when your nights won’t end with your friends’ laughter by the fire.

graduating isn’t like coming up for fresh air. it isn’t a week before dumbledore is owling, asking if you lot would like to join the order of the phoenix. you train for only two weeks, learning curses you shouldn’t need to know even exist. now life is missions and green light whizzing by your head. it’s the three days when sirius went missing and james couldn’t sleep or eat and you finally found him inside an abandoned building chained to the wall. it’s dorcas being murdered by voldemort himself and remus going to live with the werewolves and marlene’s entire family being gone before you have time to mourn the others and everyone around you is dying. it’s seeing severus on the battlefield for the first time and not hesitating for a moment before sending a curse his way. it’s james looking over at you as he shields you both from a bright red light and says “marry me, evans.” it’s responding “are you mad? of course i will” like you aren’t literally in the middle of a bloody war. it’s going home and kissing him like your life depends on it, and you think to yourself that maybe it does. it’s the empty spots beside mary where dorcas and marlene should be and sirius’ best man speech moving you to tears. it’s coming face to face with voldemort twice and surviving. it’s finding out you’re pregnant and telling sirius first because you’re not even twenty yet and james is out on a mission and what are we supposed to do now? it’s remus and sirius never leaving your perfect little house in godric’s hallow, insisting on being together as much as possible. it’s secretly wondering what’s going on with peter, because he hasn’t come ‘round much and you’re worried but the boys dismiss your fears. it’s wanting to make a difference - for yourself and your husband and your friends - because this world isn’t one worth living in.

going into hiding is like giving up on everything you’ve fought for. it’s harry being born and wishing your mum was there, but james has never been so proud and the look on sirius’ face when you ask him to be the godfather makes everything worth it. it’s sitting on the couch, stroking the cat that wandered into your backyard. it’s listening to james talk to harry, telling him about all the mischief the marauders got into at school. it’s wishing you could go back to those days for a while. it’s feeling like the walls are caving in on you and wondering how this happened and sobbing into james’ chest. it’s him eyeing his cloak, and you knowing he wants to take it out more than anything. it’s wishing you had kept taking divination, because it’s not rubbish - it’s ruining your family. it’s switching your secret keeper to peter at the last minute, because sirius is too obvious and he means too much and if he got hurt for you, you don’t really know what you’d do (and you know james would never forgive himself). it’s regretting not listening to your gut when the front door bursts open. it’s knowing exactly what is going to happen when james yells at you to take harry and run. it’s not having enough time to tell him how much you love him, but you look into his hazel eyes and he knows, he knows; he’s always known. it’s hearing the love of your life hit the floor and trying to protect the baby that looks so much like him behind you. it’s standing tall and strong like you always have as you place harry in his crib, the footsteps closing in. it’s being confused as to why he’s asking you to stand aside but refusing anyway. it’s thinking of sirius and remus and mary and peter as the green light reaches you.

#harry potter #jily #marauders #marauders era #lily evans #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #440

from a day or two ago.

Do you drink a lot of soda? I definitely do. :/ I'd lose weight so much easier if I could drop the habit. Are tomatoes the best food in the world? I don't like tomatoes unless they're very fresh and on a mayo and bacon sandwich. Have you seen The Blindside? I actually haven't. Do you have a favorite local pizza place? Not really. There's a place I like that isn't huge, but I don't have like, a serious passion for or loyalty to it. Would you date someone 10+ years older than you? Meh, I think ten years is my cut-off. Are you due for a haircut? For sure. >_< Are you dealing with any health-related problems right now? Yeah. Even with my APAP mask, because I apparently move it too much in my sleep, I'm struggling with my sleep apnea nightmares/terrors. Do your parents like the music you listen to? Most of it. Do your parents approve of your beliefs? Not all of them, no. How many different digital cameras have you owned in your life? How about cell phones? Cell phones, idk. I've had two "pro" cameras. Do you typically do your make up the same each time? Or do you like to change it up often? It's pretty much always the same. Who is the last person you were in a room with just the two of you? What were you doing? Mom. We worked together on my room. What do you usually order at Subway? Turkey, bacon, American cheese, pickles, banana peppers, and chipotle on I want to say Italian bread. How long is your mother’s hair? It's hard to say, because it's all poofy now versus wavy like before it had to be shaved off. Don't repeat it to her ever, but she has, uh... "old lady hair" now, ha ha. What is your favourite car brand? I don’t care. Whose chore is it to clean the bathrooms in your house? My mom does it. Pick your three favourite fruits. Strawberries, kiwi, and uhhh... apples. Or pineapple. Have you ever played Cards Against Humanity? Yeah. We used to play that a lot at Colleen's house on nights we had some drinks. Who were the last friends you went to hang out with? Oh jeez, idk. I haven't hung out with a friend in a long time. How many chairs are in the room you’re currently in? Zero. I'm in my bedroom. Are you bored right now? I'm bored almost every waking hour of my days. Have you ever seen a pelican in real life? I'm actually not sure. What’s important about April? My younger sister's birthday is in April. Is there anyone who hates you? Jason probably does. Would you consider adoption? Not for me personally. What’s the largest animal you’ve ever had as a pet? Our late boxer mix. Do you own any kind of helmet? No. Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? Noooo. How do you usually celebrate your favorite holiday? My younger sister comes over here and we open our presents with Mom, who also cooks a nice breakfast. We then go to my older sister's house for the day to watch the kids open presents from their extended family. I say "extended" because the kids obviously aren't going to wait for us to get there to open the majority of their gifts from their parents, ha ha. What’s a few facts about the last person that talked to you? She's from New York, has five kids, has survived cancer (one almost advanced to a fatal level) twice, she loves owls, and recently graduated with her bachelor's in social work (it's never too late, people). What would happen if you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both cisgender females. Where is the biggest scar on your body? It's probably where I had a cyst removal, which is in a spot I can't see. Would you date someone who was addicted to drugs? Absolutely not. I am NOT getting involved in that. If you could go back and change something in the past 5 months, would you? I'd go to the gym sooner. Have you ever kissed anyone with a tattoo? Hmmm... I think Tyler actually may have had a The Legend of Zelda tattoo? I can't really remember. If not him, then no. Have you ever kissed someone you weren’t dating? No, but I've been kissed by someone I wasn't dating. Do you know anyone who drinks a lot? Yes. What were you afraid of the most when you were a kid? Being separated from/losing my mom. Do you like to make the first move? No. When was the last time you completely broke down? A few weeks ago when I was having a PTSD episode. Are you listening to any music? No; I'm watching Gab play Final Fantasy X. Is your hair long enough to put in a ponytail? No. Has someone ever told you they want to spend the rest of their life with you? Hm, it's funny, I don't see him anymore. Have you ever peed in the woods? No. Have you ever played Twister? Yeah, I liked playing it as a kid. Are you looking for a boyfriend//girlfriend? Not actively, no. I really don't need one right now. Out of all of your friends who have you gotten in the worst fight with? Of all friends I've EVER had, probably Colleen. Of the friends I still have, maybe Sara. What is the last microwaveable meal you had? I've been on a SERIOUS grilled chicken pesto kick lately. Mom buys these small Healthy Choice (or some brand like that) bowls that you put in the microwave and then pour the noodles and chicken into the sauce after and mix, and oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOD it is so good. What would you consider a talent of yours? Assuming the worst out of every imaginable situation. If Hogwarts was a real place and you were able to attend, what class do you think you’d excel at? According to those little quizzes I've taken, I lean mostly towards Hufflepuff, but with Gryffindor traits as well. Would you rather learn more about space or more about the ocean? Well, ideally, space, but I think learning much more about our ocean would be more beneficial to our planet and our prosperity on Earth. Do you have a mental illness? If yes, how have you learned to cope with it? If no, do you ever suspect you may have one? I have a lot. My bipolarity, OCD, and PTSD are *mostly* under control, but I most certainly still have trouble sometimes. My anxiety and AvPD are still rabid fucking hounds. My depression was well-managed not even that long ago, but life circumstances have it so it's been more aggressive than what was usual. Do you have a favorite character from The Avengers? I dunno, I like Loki ig. Thor is cool, too. It's been WAY too long since I've seen that movie. What type of cake would you like right now? Double chocolate cake sounds great rn. @_@ What was your dream job when you were a child? Are you going after that dream or not? Why? Paleontologist, and no, because I don't want to travel for work, and I could also never handle the heat during site excavations. Even though it may not work all the time, what usually helps make you feel better when you’re upset or down? Watching one of my comfort series on YouTube from channels I enjoy. Why do you personally take surveys? It's a method to just get all these thoughts out of my head and to vent when I need to without actually directly burdening someone with my problems. No one has to read 'em. It's purely for my benefit, and also to pass the time, which I have too much of. Are there any words that you can’t stand? Derogatory terms for certain groups of people. What are words that you love? Words like "serendipity," "bliss," joyous, bubbly words. I'm blanking on actual terms. If you had an endless supply of money for clothing only, what would you load your closet with? Ohhhh, lots of shit with studs and spikes. :') I've wanted a studded leather jacket since I was in middle school. Have never gotten one because of how pricey they are. :( I'd also get some KILLER boots and just obtain a more gothic wardrobe. I'd love corsets too if my body ever shrinks back to a point I'd be comfortable wearing well-made ones. What is your favorite type of cookie? Chocolate chip. What is your favorite type of candy? Strawberry Sour Punch Straws. What color would you like to paint your nails next? I don't paint my nails. Realistically, they probably won't be 'til my entirely hypothetical wedding, in which case they'll probably be black. What do you think is creepy that society accepts as normal? Urinals, alsdkfja;klwejr. Like I get men's bathrooms give the option of using a stall, but still... side-by-side urinals are so weird and a breach of privacy to me. What is the silliest secret about yourself that you sometimes feel the need to hide? That I enjoy forum RP. I tell NOBODY because I fear being judged and found as weird. Like seriously, in my "real" life, maybe two people know. What do you think is a good date other than dinner and a movie? I want a picnic date really bad kalj;dkl;jwe. Do you dread certain days of the week? If yes, what day/s and why? No. They're all very similar. Do you ever give money to homeless people? No, admittedly. Mom instead likes to sometimes offer them bottles of water or if she's really feeling generous, a cheap meal at like McDonald's or something. She doesn't like to hand out money because, well, we know what a vast majority of homeless people spend it on. Do you like to brag or are you modest? I get really uncomfortable bragging, so I try to be as modest as I can be. What your favourite thing to have on toast? I love giving it a light toast, then adding a thin layer of butter, cinnamon, and sugar. It's bomb. Do you know how to surf? Would you ever like to learn? No to either. If you eat oatmeal, do you have it plain or do you have certain toppings that you like to add to it? I love sprinkling some sugar in there. Would you prefer to spend time with your whole family all at once, or would you rather quality time with one family member at a time? Depends on what I feel up to, but I tend to enjoy family time as a group more. That way, I don't have TOO much pressure to be constantly social. I can just listen sometimes. What is the funniest or strangest thing you’ve ever heard somebody say in their sleep? I have no idea. I worry what people have heard ME say/scream in my sleep. Do you own a pair of slippers? Yeah, they're meerkat ones! :') Choose one: Butterfinger, Milky Way, Snickers: Absolutely a Milky Way. Who was the last person to comment you? My mom. I'm cool, I swear. How many arguments have you had with the last person you kissed? A lot over all these years, but I'd say that's normal when you've been friends since you were 8 and 10. Do you know anyone who has been arrested? Yes. What are you planning on doing after this? When I'm done taking this survey, I'll probably either go to bed or play a bit of WoW. Idk. Will you be up before 7 am tomorrow? I have my alarm set for 7, actually. Ever been the only one trying to fix a relationship? Mhmmmm. -_- What was the last bad thing that happened to your phone? The case that came with the phone got a big crack in it. Have you ever been with someone while they were throwing up? Absolutely not. I would start vomiting. I can't handle the sound or the act in general. Have you been to the beach this year? No; I haven't been in a long time, and I am noooot complaining. Have you ever skipped school just because you were tired? Yes. Are you tan? God no. Do you own any leather? No real leather, no. I never would. Have you ever bought a shot glass? No. Do you have a therapist? Yes. We actually just talked today. Well, technically yesterday. What’s the worst name your mom has ever called you? I don't know. She doesn't really call me bad names. Have you ever listened to Christian music? Not of my own volition, but I've heard it because of other people controlling the radio. Are you the ‘creative child’? Yes, I'm considered that one. Did you like your life when you were in middle school? God no. That's when everything started going downhill. Have you ever been 'popular’? No. Has someone ever tried to convert you? Yes. Are you a fan of muffins? I LOVE muffins. What’s your most recent obsession? It's kinda chilled out now, but when Resident Evil 8: Village released, I was CRAZY over it. I watched SO many different let's plays of it. I think it's safe to say it beats out RE4 as my favorite installment.

#survey #surveys #random questions

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chayacat · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Sweet Star (39)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut

***

Here we are. This is the big day. A day that no one will forget and cannot forget. Today is the day of the Roseville Festival. Exactly 32 years ago, this small town was still just a gathering of houses where each one helped the other. Then little by little it developed and it became the small town that everyone knows today. And Mayor Tallis leads it with trust and respect. And you are there, among all these people, while you have only been living there for a short time, who almost considered you as a member of this great family. Just thinking about it, you have a tear in your eye.

The stands were all in place. It was sunny but a little cool which was a good thing for your cake which unfortunately, compared to the little ones who were in refrigerated windows, was going to be exposed to the open air. Speaking of the cake, it was out of sight in a fridge big enough to keep it cool while the mayor made his speech. As soon as it is finished, you can take it out, show it to the whole city and cut it to distribute it to those who want it. As the mayor you said, there were a total of 8 stands, yours included, 4 on each side of the desk where the mayor will make his annual speech. Yours being, as expected also, to the right of the desk.

“I can't believe that other journalists will attend this and taste your pastry! you imagine the ad you will have if they ever love it?? You will be known throughout the region!” said Corey enthusiastic.

“Throughout the region... it's scary anyway... can you imagine people from all over the region coming to Roseville just to eat a cake or drink a coffee? We're going to be overloaded.... and it may even be necessary to refuse customers...” said Amy worried.

“Don't get too excited too fast both... It's just a small local festival. There's very, very little chance I'll become a famous one just with that. It's going to take a long, LONG time for that day to arrive. If it happens one day.” you respond a little embarrassed.

“Hey! Don't say that! You’re the best in the town and one day you’ll be the best in all Ohio! stop underestimating yourself! There are people who deserve less popularity than you and yet they are successful!” replied Corey.

“He’s right! You're the best coffee shop and the best boss we’ve ever met and have!” said Amy.

You smile at Corey and Amy. They are really adorable. They went for a tour of the different stands that are still in preparation, just like yours. You never imagined being there today, at least not in such a short time in Roseville. You said that in 2 or 3 years this would be the case, but not in a few months. Lindsey installed her most beautiful floral composition on her stand, smiling and greeting you. Poor of her, these last days weren’t easy for her because of the attack on her shop, but thanks to the kindness of the inhabitants, she was able to quickly start again on a good basis. You install the last signs with the products and prices indicated on each of them. Plus, a special sign for the festival cake with a reasonable price compared to the quality, when two hands that you know only too well, because of their sweetness, hid your eyes. And the voice that followed, even in a crowd of 10000 people, you would be able to hear it.

“So? Ready to expose your creation to the whole city? Everyone in town is waiting to see that.” asks Jed with his angelic smile.

“Yes... I'm ready. And no matter what happens, the key thing is that you're there. Do you have a lot to do?” you said, smiling at him.

“Take pictures.... write stuff... the normal job of a journalist in fact. But don't worry, I plan to go see you... and taste your delicious cakes.”

“Leave it for everyone big foodie... Don't worry, I would put some aside for you. And for the others.”

“I take everyone's share. They find that I have to eat a little and get a little fat...”

“But of course... you will have your shares and not one more, little thief. I did just enough to feed the whole city. The other journalists are there?” you replied, looking in all directions.

“Yes, they're out there... they are preparing for Mayor Tallis' speech. You can imagine... Roseville has been around for 32 years, and he has been running it for 20 years. It's amazing to have so much motivation, courage and willpower to start from a few houses to a small peaceful town... well, almost.” respond Jed with smile.

“Any news about Ghostface? As you took quite a while with Hoggins...”

“Murders, still murders and more murders. But I must admit that Hoggins takes so much time from me... That Ghostface is in the background right now. Which in itself benefits him. He takes advantage of the situation to quietly kill poor victims without defences... I can't tell you how many poor citizens of this city he killed while we focus on Hoggins.

And you don't even dare to imagine it. How many throats does he have to cut while everyone is looking at Hoggins? Even to you he didn't tell you anything. Yet, and involuntarily, you are his partner! But he is far from crazy, he is not going to tell you everything in exchange for your silence and cooperation. At least not now.

You dread that day. And yet you know you'll have to deal with it. All your actions will be decisive and, while you were focusing on the festival, you have passed multiple scenarios in your head. Only one misstep and you are dead. that's a certainty. But you can't accept all this without trying anything... or maybe... From the beginning he could have killed you. And he never did. He fell in love with you. And you fell in love with Jed. Funny love triangle. But not so bad in the end.

Live a double life... is that really a good idea? Sooner or later, one will eventually discover the other. In itself they already know each other, Ghostface leaves Jed alive so that he writes his articles and builds a reputation for him. And it’s thanks to Ghostface that Jed is an emeritus and excellent journalist. You wonder inwardly if they have already seen each other in real life... face to face. We will have to ask our dear murderer... Even if between us... we know who our nocturnal murderer is. Mayor Tallis settled at his desk, tested the microphone and signalled everyone to approach. You, Corey and Amy go at your stand, both ears attentive to the mayor's speech.

“My dear fellow citizens, today is a special day, a day that I hope will remain etched in your hearts and memories for years to come. Today, Roseville was born 32 years ago. At first, it was just a pile of houses where people helped each other. Then other people came and little by little a village was built. And today a city. And it is with pride that I lead it and that I will continue to lead it until my time has come.” he starts cheerfully.

People applauded, while journalists took notes and photos. Among them you could see Jed taking a few pictures before looking at you, his angel smile on his lips.

“I wanted to thank you all for contributing to the evolution of the city into a prosperous and beautiful city. I would also like to thank the police forces who, at the risk of their lives and knowing perfectly well the risks of their jobs, dedicate their hearts and souls to the protection of this city. Especially inspector Wilhelm who takes his work very much to heart. He is a faithful friend in whom I place all my trust.”

The inhabitants turned to Inspector Wilhelm, who smiled, visibly embarrassed to be in the centre of attention. Poor of him, it mustn’t be easy for him.

“I also wanted to thank Miss (y/n) who warmly agreed to make the cake of the city that I will unveil to you in a moment. She has only been there for a very short time but... for me she is part of our big family. May this day bring you joy and good mood, and may it remain in your hearts and minds forever. Let the festivities begin!”

Members of the town hall brought your cake, hidden under a veil, and when the mayor removed the veil, everyone was amazed. It was as big as a wedding cake, decorated with trees, cars and some shops of the city and at the very top of the cake, the town hall with Mayor Tallis in front. All in sugar dough. It would almost hurt to cut it out and eat it but it is the first and only function of a cake, to be eaten.

The festivities began and it could be said that people were enthusiastic. Children ran everywhere to the great displeasure of their parents who had trouble containing them, it was very funny to see. Older people walked through the different stands, always starting with Lyndsey's buying flowers or plants before heading to the other stands.

Journalists from other cities came to congratulate you on cake and asked you some questions about you and your family. You explain that it comes from your grandmother, a great chef who passed on her love of cooking to your father and then to you. That you do not plan to change until your retirement... that kind of thing. Your gaze occasionally derived on Jed chatting quietly with Melina and Mattew, while occasionally taking pictures of the festival. The day took place in joy and good mood. People laughed, talked, children played together, ran everywhere, escaping the supervision of their parents. But their freedoms were short-lived when the police brought them back to their parents.

While serving customers, you suddenly see Hoggins at the opposite of you, arms crossed, sitting against a lamppost, watching you. He made you smile to freeze your blood, but you give it back to him, showing that he doesn’t scare you and that he will never scare you. You can't wait for Ghostface to kill him... Oh, yes. But that doesn't mean you want to attend. Knowing him, you trust him enough to offer him a slow, painful and unbearable death. And after... you will be free. You will be able to resume your life quietly. At least that's what you think. If you knew what you got yourself into...

“Hey (Y/N)!” said suddenly a man voice.

You turn your head to see Mattew coming towards you happily followed by Melina and Jed. You knew why... what a little glutton. You chat for a little while serving customers with Amy and Corey. Towards the beginning of the evening, you warn them that they can enjoy the festival before everything stops, to which they answered thank you and asked you if you will manage on your own.

“Yes, go for it! there are not many people anymore so enjoy a little! You too have the right to have fun!” you said with smile.

The two looked at each other before smiling and hugging you, which made you laugh. They took off their aprons before leaving the stand and visiting the other stands that were scattered all over the central square of the city. You watch them leave, with a smile on their faces, they're really adorable these two. The rest of the evening went quietly, you serve the last customers before closing your stand. You set aside some cake for yourself and Jed and give more to Melina and Mattew, as well as Amy and Corey. Everyone left little by little, and in the meantime the mayor came to congratulate you on your cake and your success. The journalists who had come to cover the event, had talked about you to the mayor, full of praise.

You feel proud, and reassured. You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear all this. Jed was waiting for you against his van. When he saw you arrive, he took you in his arms, kissing you, get you into the vehicle to get back to the apartment. Once inside, you collapse on the couch, completely exhausted by this day.

“Poor of you... you are completely exhausted.” said Jed, holding you a cup of coffee.

“Thanks Honey. You can tell... I didn't think it would be as exhausting. And yet I have a coffee and I do the same thing every day...” you respond, sipping a little. “Did you manage to take pictures?

“Oh yes, don't worry about it... and there are plenty of them that I'm going to keep to myself... you are so beautiful when you are focused on your work...”

“What a charmer you are...”

“That’s why you love me right?”

You laugh before drinking the rest of your coffee and yawning. Jed smiled before gently taking you in his arms to carry you to your room. He put you on the bed, informing you that he was coming back right away, going to put the pictures he had taken in his computer. You take the opportunity to change and lie on the bed. Jed arrived a few minutes later, changed quickly, and joined you in bed, gently taking you in his arms.

“He was there you know... Hoggins. He looked at me as if he was going to kill me.” you said worried.

“Don't worry my love. Soon he will no longer be able to harm anyone. I promise you.” responds Jed.

Oh, yes... he won't be able to hurt anyone soon... But it is not in prison that he will end up. But in a grave.

And you can't wait to hear it from your... “partner.”

***

(I am EXHAUSTED. This little weekend will do me a lot of good! I think we're getting closer little by little to the end of DSS, count around.... 21 chapters. After, it may take less or it may take more... it will depend on the progress and the state of my brain XD After I think I would take a small break of 2 or 3 weeks before starting RE8! but don't worry! I will take the opportunity to develop everything! and find a title. XD, I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

#dbd fanfic #dbd #dead by daylight #ghostface #danny johnson #jed olsen

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mangomochi-yn · 4 years

Text

[first thing’s second]

fukurodani. bokuto koutaro x reader

g. fluff but w angst iykwim (happy ending dw)

tw. baby bo gets :”( wc. 4k holy geezus

Just like his hyperactive and steadfast personality on court, it was quite well known that the captain of vbc, Bokuto, had a habit of confessing and asking a girl out before he even truly knew he liked her.

It could be just how he found her laugh funny or the way a girl writes her notes was cool. But as soon as he notices it, he would confess on the spot then and there and for the most part— it was harmless.

Maybe because of how the girls would reject him for the mere fact that they didn’t really know the boy at all— or in some cases how either his teammates or managers (usually akaashi— the poor thing) were able to stop him before he got the chance, but again Bokuto’s odd habit of confessing way too soon that it was normal was really nothing more than that— a harmless habit.

That is until — it was then to you.

It was the way you smiled at him as you passed back a flyer during an assembly that got him. He was smitten instantaneously and as easy as that, by the time he was halfway through vb practice he already decided,

“I’m going to confess to her, Akaashi.” Akaashi couldn’t help but let out the sigh that escaped him. This was the third time this month and honestly, he was starting to get tired of it.

“She was just so dazzling and pretty and I just have to confess to her or I’ll explode.” The boy went on and on, not noticing the exasperated look on his best friend’s face.

‘You won’t explode, Bokuto.’ was what Akaashi had wanted to say, but because of how exhausted the poor setter was— “Okay, go ahead then Bokuto-san, but after practice.” was what came out instead.

You were probably going to reject him like the others, so it was harmless anyways, Akaashi thought. He knew you through a classmate and judging by the way you were described as quite the reserved and independent person, he knew you weren’t one to jump into a relationship just like that.

Plus, he may have heard how you actually received a little bit more than the average person’s amount of confessions, and promptly rejected each and every one of them.

Discouraging Bokuto now would just put him into that dreaded Emo Mode for the rest of practice— and they had a practice match with Nekoma the following week.

Really, the most reasonable choice right now—in Akaashi’s mind—was to just let the captain confess.

But what he didn’t put into account apparently was that you—the person that was supposed to be just another one of Bokuto’s fleeting crushes—were actually in search of a boy to bring to this big family wedding next weekend.

I know right? What a big twist of events.

It was a wedding where all your relatives from the countryside were to attend—some even from out of the country—and you knew that if you were to come by yourself it would cost you a million and one offers by your cousins, aunties, hell even grandparents, to try to go on these blind dates they seem to have a never ending amount of.

So the only perfect solution to avoid all that? A boy to bring. And here he was so gladly offering himself.

“Okay, I’ll be your girlfriend, Bokuto-san.” You’ve never seen a person’s eye bug out as much as his did then. And it was fascinating how his hair seemingly stood straighter too. He could control it with his emotions?

“Wait, really?” Weird, from that one volleyball game of theirs you watched, you remembered the boy as the very confident captain and ace of the team— cocky almost.

So seeing him here now unbelieving how you had just accepted his confession stirred something in you. Confusion maybe? Fluster?

“Um, yeah. I don’t mind being your girlfriend.” And just like that it seemed like the sun had lost its purpose. With how bright and wide Bokuto smiled, you wouldn’t be surprised if you turned out blind by the end of it.

“I won’t disappoint you, Y/N! I’ll be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.” Ah there was that same confidence he had on court. Although it surprised you a bit how gentle he was when he hugs you.

He had all the muscles but the way he held was like you were made of porcelain. Maybe dating him wouldn’t be that much of a bother after all.

But 3 days down the relationship you noted, yeah, being in a relationship with the boy was bothersome— but in good and bad ways really.

“Hey hey hey!!” He was loud and boisterous, always announcing himself as he walks to your classroom for lunch. Always with 2 yakisoba buns, one for you apparently, but you always politely rejected because you had your own lunch.

You couldn’t tell if it was endearing or just plain funny how this was the 3rd time and he still brought you one though.

“Y/N! Volleyball practice ends early today. Let’s walk home together!” Akaashi behind him stares at you pointedly, he was probably curious as to why you accepted Bokuto’s confession— that smart pretty boy.

“Sure, Bokuto. I’ll come by the gym once class ends.” And with that your new loud boyfriend walks away, not wanting to intrude on your time with your friends (you would never admit how sometimes you maybe hoped a little bit that he stayed instead though, he was fun and uplifting as much as he was insufferable apparently).

“Y/N, I didn’t know you and Bokuto were close?” Your friend starts off carefully, she knew how dozens of your other classmates were listening in as well— wanting in on the gossip. So you sigh, there was no point in hiding it anyways.

Especially not with The Bokuto being your new boyfriend.

“No, we’re not. But he’s my boyfriend now.” And if that wasn’t the most confusing sentence then I don’t know what is.

“Holy crap, Y/N. So all those guys you rejected, but because Bokuto’s captain of the volleyball club, you said yes?” Of course they had to mention that.

“I said we weren’t close but that doesn’t mean we’re not getting there. What’s the big deal with me accepting his confession anyways? Mad cause it wasn’t yours?” You spoke in one breath daring the boy to talk back with a menacing look on your face.

Over the 3 days you’ve dated him, you did notice that one fact about Bokuto you never would’ve guessed.

Although he was captain of the powerhouse vbc, it seems the kids in your school saw him as nothing but that. Sometimes borderline mocking his loudness and airheadedness— it irked you.

Irked you so much that over the week leading up to the wedding, you hadn’t even noticed how you were trying to be the best girlfriend to him— openly giving him kisses to the cheek as he stops by during lunch, always waving eagerly at him with a big smile as he passes by on the hallways, and never endingly bragging about him to your classmates— especially when said boyfriend was in the premises.

It got to the point where what was supposed to be a harmless crush for Bokuto, went past that and now you didn’t even know how the boy was falling head first for you deep.

And before you knew it— the wedding weekend was approaching. Friday was the last school day you planned on having Bokuto as a boyfriend.

“Koutaro! You have a match with Nekoma tomorrow, right? On Friday? Lend me one of your jerseys to wear for it!” You don’t even remember when you had started calling him by his first name or when you had started jumping eagerly to meet him by the doorway of your classroom— always putting up a show to your classmates.

“You’re watching my game tomorrow?” Boy, you had him wrapped around your pinky. “Of course silly, I’m your girlfriend!” You hadn’t even noticed how he literally almost chokes on his breath as you smile at him.

“Okay! Let’s walk home together and I’ll give you one later.” He beamed, the boy couldn’t get any happier really.

“Okay.” And when you kiss his cheek he swears he was about to ascend to heaven. “I’ll see you later, okay?” He could only nod and smile, not noticing as your smile drops a little bit by the time he turns around—your bubbly facade easily fading as soon as he’s away.

Someone else did though. The same person that’s been speculating the reason for you accepting Bokuto’s confession in the first place.

“Y/N-san, do you have a second?” Akaashi’s soft voice takes you by surprise as you were halfway towards the gym after classes had ended. What was he doing out of practice even?

“Um, sure Akaashi-kun. What do you need?” He fiddled with his fingers but stared straight into your eyes. As if trying to scan and see right through them and into your brain instead.

“Do you like Bokuto?” Okay, that wasn’t what you had expected but you didn’t know what to expect.

“Of course I do.” Your voice gave away how unsure you were though. Coming out as a mere whisper, as if you weren’t sure either.

“No, Y/N-san. As in romantically. Because I just find it not suspicious per say but um...” He struggled to find the words not to offend you. But you already knew what he meant.

“— illogical, I think, for you to like Bokuto that way with barely knowing him before he confessed.” And again despite the bashful look on his face, his eyes bore into you as if trying to assess every single reaction to his statement.

“He told me about how you asked him to attend a family wedding with you on Saturday and I can’t help but get ideas from that.” Ahh, busted is what you were. Now you were sure the vbc would hate you after this.

“Okay, yes, I only accepted his confession because I needed a date to that stupid wedding. If I didn’t have one, all my relatives would shove blind dates up my ass like that’s the only thing I’m good for. And I didn’t want to have to go through all that when I’m so close to graduating and escaping to college and I—“

You hadn’t even noticed the tears of frustration? guilt? start pouring until Akaashi sets a hand on your shoulder, telling you to breathe calmly as he stroked softly.

“I understand and I’m sorry, Y/N-san. But—” He hesitated, pulling the hand away from your shoulder.

“But you don’t want Bokuto’s heart to be broken because of that, I get it.” You chuckled dryly, thinking of how lucky Bokuto was to have a friend like him.

“I’ll... break up with him tomorrow after the game then. I’ll make up some bullshit excuse that I actually didn’t like volleyball or something so that he’d hate me instead.”

And there goes your foolproof plan. But at the same time, you guessed you couldn’t stand the guilt that was ebbing into the back of your head every time you spoke empty compliments and promises to the boy.

He was so pure and here you were just toying him.

“You don’t have to do that, Y/N-san. You can just say the truth and he’ll understand.”

“But how are you sure he’ll move on after that then? Sorry, I’d rather not take the risk, Akaashi.” And just before he was about to speak again lo and behold your boyfriend pops out of nowhere as loud as ever.

“Y/N!” It breaks your heart to see him smile so widely for you. Why on Earth did you think it was okay to lead this boy on?

“Hey, Bokuto.” He frowns at the use of his last name, but before he could complain, something else caught his eye.

“You’re crying?” And softly, his hands went to wipe the tears that were on your face. As gentle as he was when you first hugged you when he confessed.

“No! It was just the wind got something on my face.” You smile at him as you rush to wipe your face. And when the frown didn’t leave his, you opted to kiss him on the cheek to forget about it instead (you winced in the back of your head to stop it though).

“Practice good? Did you bring an extra jersey for me?” Proudly, he whips out a clean jersey from his bag and as he moves to put it on you hastily, you couldn’t help but giggle and laugh.

He really did keep his promise of being the best boyfriend to you, didn’t he?

“Perfect fit!” He exclaims, you couldn’t help but twirl and pull a curtsy for him after, missing the fond gaze he gave as he did.

“Now let’s get home shall we? You have to be well rested for tomorrow’s game anyways!”

“Your boyfriend’s pro enough to not let fiddle things like sleep affect his game anyways. Haven’t you noticed, Y/N?” You shook your head as you clung to his arm.

Any girl was lucky to have him as their girlfriend, weren’t they? It was ironic how you only started to notice now. Now that you’d fucked up any change of being the right girl for him.

“Whatever you say, Koutaro.” Again, you missed that fond gaze he gave as you looked up ahead. A million and one thoughts were in his head and you barely knew half of it.

“No, really, Y/N. How bout we make a bet?” You could only indulge in whatever Bokuto says at this point. He deserved nothing less but that.

“If we win tomorrow, I’ll tell you two things I want you to do for me after.”

“That sounds a bit perverted, Koutaro.” He blushes and pulls his arm away for your grasp. A babbling mess was what you left him in. It got you curious how gentle his voice shifted into though.

“Not that, Y/N! I would never ask you to do that unless you wanted to so no, not that.” You could only laugh at his attempt to not look at you.

“I know I know. You were probably gonna ask me on a date weren’t you?” You teased but deep down you were already dreading for what he’d ask you. Because then you knew you’d have to to break his heart even more for his own sake.

“Maybe, but maybe something better.”

It took you all but everything in you to not jump the stands as Fukurodani gets the winning point to the game. For a practice game, this was seriously exhilarating.

“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto’s voice rang out the gym like a marching band, the whole team chorusing after him.

“Koutaro babe! Congrats!” Shit, you hadn’t meant to call him babe. But seeing him smirk at it sent tingles to your spine, wanting to scream to whomever if it meant seeing that expression again.

“I know, babe, and now you owe me two wishes.” Ah shit, that. In the side of your eye you could see Akaashi glancing at you two. Reminding you of how you had to set things right.

“Before that Bokuto can we go talk somewhere about something?” You already held his hand in yours as you dragged him to the empty side of the bleachers, letting it go reluctantly as you faced him.

“Bokuto, I actually think it’s best if we brok—“

“Hear my wish first.” His voice never sounded like this before. Not even when he had confessed to you and it made you wonder just what was his wish that made him want to interrupt you? He basically knew what you were trying to say, didn’t he?

“Okay..” And as his hand went to scratch the back of his neck bashfully you couldn’t help but get worried. Was he going to say—

“I want to go to that wedding with you.” He what?

“Bokuto, why—“

“I know you’re going to break up with me and that you only accepted my confession so you had someone to bring to the wedding and I don’t care if we have to pretend but I want to be there for you on that wedding.”

Tears started spilling again before you knew it, this was the most you’ve ever even cried this year and all in two days.

“Akaashi told you?”

“No, I overheard you two yesterday.” So that’s why he was so flustered when you mentioned anything lewd with his ‘bet’. He was thinking of something completely different and here he was, despite being lied to by you, still offering himself to help?

“Bokuto, I can’t let you do that. I don’t wanna lie or hurt you any further.”

“But I don’t mind, Y/N!” Your eyes widen at the sudden raise in voice. No matter how loud he was he never held that tone in it— a frustrated and annoyed tone even.

“Shit.. I’m sorry. But Y/N, what I’m trying to say is you don’t deserve to have to go through all that toxic bullshit and all I want—hell the only reason I even wanted to win this game even—was so you would let me be there for you.”

His steps were hesitant as he walked up to embrace you. But as soon as you fisted his shirt like your life had depended on it, effectively soaking the front of it with your tears as well, he’s never held you any firmer than he has then.

“I just— I’m so sorry for using you, Bokuto.” Your voice was scratchy and muffled against his chest. Nothing like his deep and smooth baritone answering back.

“Oh, but don’t be too sorry now. You still owe me one more wish.” You sniffle.

“I do?” Seeing your tear streaked puffy face, Bokuto almost couldn’t stop himself from kissing you right then and there but even he knew it wasn’t the right time for that. Not when you’re literally crying buckets out of guilt for him.

“Yup, but I’ll only tell you after the wedding.”

“Okay.”

“And can you believe the look on her face when I said I probably won’t be able to take care of her shop while in college? God, it was a nightmare.” Right now felt like that midsummer night’s dream as you walked the empty streets of Tokyo— both you and Bokuto dressed in a long dress and a nice dress shirt with slacks for him.

Your heels were off and his once neatly parted hair was a bit of a mess, some pieces now just laying on his forehead.

“I know you said they were crazy but I didn’t expect them to be that crazy, you know? How are you even related to them?” His hand held in yours as you balanced yourself on the edge of the river bank.

“I don’t know either. They probably just picked me up somewhere, I can’t see myself having the same blood as them really.” And when it was right at the opening of the street to your house did you guys stop (your parents wanted to catch up with a few of your relatives so they stayed at their house instead, hence you walking home with Bokuto at the moment).

End of the line, you thought. “Bokuto, I—“ Your voice instantly quivers.

“Now don’t go starting the waterworks on me again.” His hand immediately goes to your face to wipe whatever tears fell and you couldn’t help but think how this might be the last time you’d feel them against it. If only you could change the way you did everything.

“I’m sorry. I just wanted to say how grateful I am to you and for everything you’ve done when I’ve been nothing but dishonest—”

The way his lips crashed down on yours was everything you needed to relax and calm your nerves. It was chaste but extremely effective in shutting you up in an instant.

“Sorry, I had to stop you somehow.” He chuckled, putting a hand to the back of his neck again— that same bashful look on his face.

“You still owe me one more wish, remember?” His eyes held a glimmer to them you couldn’t figure out. Was he going to ask you to serve the vbc for the rest of your high school life now? ‘Cause you could see him asking you that.

“A do over. That’s it.” Your mind drew a blank at what he said— a stark contrast to the boy’s who was thinking a mile a second. A million scenarios just running constantly.

“A what?” Was your genius reply. And he couldn’t help but chuckle at your dumb founded face. Frankly, it was Akaashi that gave him this idea (Bokuto wasn’t clever enough to put his wants into words).

“I went to the wedding to pretend like your boyfriend as a friend. The whole relationship that happened this past week will be cancelled essentially if you exchanged it for one thing— a do over!”

“I don’t under—“

“First thing’s first! Well.. first thing’s second now actually, but I’m Bokuto Koutaro. Y/N L/N, I like you very much and would you be my girlfriend?”

Nothing like his first confession where he was so rushed and just wanted to get it over with, Bokuto was careful this time. A serious glint in his eyes as he gazed into yours.

You couldn’t help but cry like an idiot as you laughed at his pathetic attempt of a curtsy, but despite that your heart was beating in your chest, thinking if you really deserved this.

“My feet are starting to cramp, you know.” Still bowing, you could see how his arms and legs starting to tremble.

Oh, but fuck it. Who could resist a man like him? “Yes, Bokuto. Of course I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Guess now you’ll just have to spoil him.

bonus. during the wedding

bonus.

“Kou baby~” Your voice rang across the hallways

As you ran up to your boyfriend of 2 weeks. “Y/N!!” He easily catches you in his arms and in any other location this would’ve been a cute couple’s moment.

Except now—in the middle of the cramp lunch-crowded hallways—it was frankly far from cute. Especially considering how this was almost the 4th time in the row you’ve done this already.

“Hey, isn’t that Y/N? I thought she always rejected guys that confessed to her? She was dating the volleyball captain the whole time?”

“Whoa, so Bokuto’s the man ain’t he? My dude’s buff as hell too now that I look at it.”

“They’re a hot couple but man are they obnoxious.”

“Unbelievable, Y/N. I know you were already so all over Bokuto since you started dating 3 weeks ago but how is it that you’ve gotten worse ever since that wedding?” Your best friend trudged behind you. And you and Bokuto could only laugh in response, it was funny though—how only you two knew what truly happened and how you got together.

You two plus Akaashi anyways, you learned recently that him and Bokuto were a set package truly, no point in complaining.

“Awe don’t be so jealous that I have an amazing boyfriend bestie~” Pinching Bokuto’s cheek, your friend gagged in response.

There was nothing you could do, when you said you spoil Bokuto— you truly meant you would spoil him. He deserved nothing less, really.

“Baby, watch me practice later?” And Bokuto was all for it. He literally feeds off all the affection and love you gave him, and whenever you came to practice to watch and cheer for him? His head grew bigger than the moon from your shower of compliments.

“Of course, babe!”

“Hey, Y/N babe, tell Konoha would you? Was it my spikes or my serves that you fell for?” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s question—a cocky smile on his face.

With a sigh, you couldn’t help but chuckle as Konoha shakes his head disapprovingly. “Both, baby.” You also learned a peck on the lips would shut him up easily. A trade secret you must say.

Because as much as you loved making the boy who stuck with you so happy, sometimes it was easier to have him content with himself rather than having to share it with the whole of Tokyo, if a possibility.

“Hehe, I knew it.” But really, at this point you knew that whatever he did, you’d follow him to the end.

another bonus. bokuto wants bokuto gets

a/n. this is my longest work :) hope yall liked it <3

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu bokuto koutaro #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #bokuto koutaro x reader #bokuto koutaro imagines #haikyuu fluff #fukurodani x reader

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sprnklersplashes · 4 years

Text

heart of stone (14/?)

AO3

It’s a little after 10 when Damian comes home, his face paint starting to rub off and his puffed shirt untucked from his pants. While the bus is almost deserted at this hour, tonight it was half full, mostly consisting of drunk college students (and some high schoolers) on their way to or back from some party and reeking of alcohol. Damian had sat at the front the whole journey, his bag held between his legs and his eyes down. Maybe he should reconsider his stance on getting his licence.

When he opens the door, it’s to the sight of his mom standing in the hallway with their trick or treat bowl in her hand, her eyes shooting upwards when she sees her son on the doorstep rather than some neighbourhood kids. She looks a little disappointed too. She does love handing out candy, and fawning over every single costume, no matter how scrappy it looks. It’s her little Halloween tradition.

“Damian,” she greets. “You’re back.”

“Yep,” he replies, pulling off his coat and running his fingers through his hair. His mom nods, slightly speechless, but smiling, nonetheless. Damian peers into the bowl of treats in her hands. “Did we have much success tonight?”

“Oh, loads,” he says, holding the bowl out to her. He picks up a funsize KitKat and a lollipop, slipping the former into his pocket and the latter into his mouth. It’s one of those dark ones that’ll turn his tongue blue. “Sometimes I thought it would have been easier to just hang out at the door and wait for people. I had barely sat down before another one showed up.”

“Well, that may be because everyone knew you were making your famous death by chocolate this year,” he reminds her, poking their finger at his chest. His mom has a bit of a reputation in all circles for being a master baker. School fundraisers, boy scout meetings, weddings, funerals, she bakes for all of them and she bakes to perfection. Damian and his sisters have all insisted she go on some big baking competition and win them all a big juicy cheque. “Speaking of which…”

“Yes, your slice is in the fridge,” she tells him, caressing his cheek. She can barely ask if he has room for it before he speeds off to the kitchen, leaving her chuckling behind him. Cara and Maisie are sitting at the kitchen table, Maisie with a tutu attached to her skeleton outfit, Cara with a pirate’s hat beside her and a mountain of candy sits between them.

“Oh, someone had a good night,” he comments, giving Maisie a fright. “You two little terrors raid the neighbourhood?”

“Yep,” Maisie chirps. “Everyone gave us so much stuff! Mrs Jenkins at number 17 even gave us a whole packet of gummy worms each!”

“And where’s mine?” he asks.

“Mom says you got food at your school thing,” Cara reminds him, her eyebrow raised. She has far too much attitude for a 10 year old. He doesn’t mean to sound like a boomer, but he thinks kids these days grow up far too quickly. He knows that Cara may be on her last years of trick-or-treating and that she’s desperate to go out to parties with the big kids. “So she said you didn’t need to save you any.”

“I did indeed get food at my school thing,” he tells her, closing the fridge door with his cake in hand. “Thank you very much, little miss.” She rolls her eyes, but he catches her smile as he sits down beside them. “So, spill, I want to hear everything.”

“It was fun,” Maisie says. “We went all around this block and then we went to the next block. Just a little bit though, because we were worried about getting lost.”

“I wasn’t,” Cara says, an edge in her voice. “Damian and I used to trick or treat on that block all the time.”

“Yeah but we had Janis too,” he reminds her, watching her sink back in her chair. “And even then we didn’t do every house.” He loves Cara with every bone in his body, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to put her in her place. That no matter how big she gets; attitude doesn’t fly in this house. He dreads to think what will happen when he leaves and his mom is left with her. Hopefully, she’ll have mellowed out by then.

“Did you see Janis at your school thing?” Maisie asks, pushing her candy around the table. It’s an innocent question, a sweet one even, born out of genuine curiosity and his sister’s ever-growing love for Janis. And it’s an easy answer too. But none of that means he’s not uncomfortable with it.

“Yeah I did,” he replies.

“So she’s finished with hospital now?” she asks again and Cara visibly stiffens beside her. After telling his mom, they both agreed to give the girls slightly different versions, based on what they can handle. All Maisie knows is that Janis had to go to hospital for a while and that she lost her hair. Cara is the only one of them who knows about ‘the C word’.

“Not quite yet,” he tells her. “She will be soon though. But her doctor let her come out for a few hours to hang with us.”

“Oh,” she says. She tosses a candy bar between her hands, her expression thoughtful. “Well, that’s good. Could you give her this when you see her?” She pushes the bar across the table. It’s big, probably the biggest one she has, packed with caramel, according to the wrapper. And Maisie loves caramel. His breath catches as emotion stirs in him, pride swelling in his chest. “Just in case she needs to be cheered up.”

“Thanks, Maise,” he tells her. “Next time I see her, I’ll give it to her.” His sister smiles at his assurance and goes back to sorting through her own loot. Cara avoids his gaze, her chest rising and falling heavily and her fists clenched on the table.

“And… how is she?” she finally asks. “Janis, I mean.” He doesn’t miss the way her voice cracks when she asks, the anxiety seeping into her words, and he places his hand over hers.

“She’s good.” He doesn’t get why they words feel so clumsy in his mouth, because they’re the truth. He saw it with his own eyes, felt it when she jumped on him and wrapped him in one of those tighter than tight hugs. He could feel the strength in her body. She’s good. She looked good, not just costume wise (although he did like her minimal approach). She looked healthy. Ish. Not like she used to, but that’s normal. Even if her skin was a little paler than he remembered it, or the fact that she’s far thinner than she used to be. And she had to zip up her jacket as much as she could, and even then she was still shivering, but that’s fine. And as the night went on, she did spend more and more time leaning either him or Cady, but that’s normal. They’re all side effects, and they all mean that the treatment’s working. And once they get out on the other side of it, they’ll be fine.

He blinks, pulling himself out of whatever wormhole he just fell down. There’s a slight ringing in his head from it and he tries to shake it off, Cara and Maisie both eyeing him with concern.

“Janis is great,” he tells them firmly. He takes Cara back a little. He takes a deep breath in, his surroundings settling and grounding around him. “Uh, hey, you guys have a lot of candy here. How about we see if we can wrestle the remote from Mom and watch Halloweentown?”

“For real?” Cara asks, her face breaking out into a smile. “Okay, cool! I think Mom’s nearly done with her thing anyway. I’ll go check.”

“Meanwhile I’ll go change into something more comfy and movie-watchy,” he says, stretching as she stands. She nods, excitement sparking in her eyes, before she sets off down the hallway. Damian laughs and helps Maisie pile everything into two big bowls, planning to fit them on either side of him so that the girls can snack as they wish. Before he goes, he picks up the candy bar from the table and taps her nose with it, a soft giggle escaping her mouth as he does.

“And don’t you worry,” he tells her. “I’ll get this to Janis as soon as I can.”

“Can she come trick or treating with us next year?” she asks. “It’s no fun without her.”

He blinks at her and suddenly, the smile on his face feels fake somehow. Hollow. Like it’s hiding something, even though he doesn’t know what.

“She’d love that,” he tells her. “Now come on, this movie isn’t going to watch itself.” He runs upstairs to change, pulling on a pair of pyjama pants and his Halloween sweater, the comfort a treat after a day of walking around in character shoes. The photo sits in their message log, not changing no matter how long he looks at it. He makes an effort to be okay with it, really, knowing that right now there are any number of reasons she might not be looking at her phone, and that none of them have to be bad. She always does answer, nine times out of ten with a perfectly reasonable explanation like she was asleep, so why should this be any different? The day probably tired her out, that’s all.

It’s only when he realises five minutes have passed that he shoves his phone in his pocket, shaking his head like that will straighten everything going on inside.

“You’re losing it Hubbard,” he mutters to himself. And for the one who normally has it, that’s bad. He takes a deep breath in, and then another one, until he feels more like himself again, and heads downstairs.

Much as he appreciates how important what Janis is doing is, he also can’t help wishing they could just skip past all of it to the part where she’s better and they’re normal again.

It’s the day after Halloween when Janis makes a realisation. She’s sitting in her bed, shaking off the last of what she likes to call a “chemo hangover” when she notices something in the reflection of her phone. She doesn’t know how she hasn’t noticed it before, nor does she know how long it’s been there for, but now that she’s seen it, she can’t unsee it, especially not when she gets up and looks in the mirror to take a better look.

Her eyebrows are gone. Mostly. One’s half-gone, one’s about three quarters. Like a plucking job gone terribly wrong. And she managed to not notice until right now.

It makes sense. Her hair fell out, so the logical thing should be that her eyebrows disappear. Her eyelashes are gone too, most of them anyway. It’s normal, it’s obvious, and she should have worked out that this would happen back when she shaved her head. Maybe she should have went for the eyebrows too and plucked at her eyelashes. Just got it over with in one fell swoop.

She looks weird. Again, that’s news to no-one, but she does. She’d just started getting used to the being bald thing and the fact she looks like a skeleton now. But this is just something else on top of that and it feels like she’s taken a thousand steps back with it. All the way back to square one. And somehow it feels weirder. People notice losing weight and the beanie in place of her hair. People don’t notice her now having eyebrows until they get close enough and maybe even then it might escape their notice.

So maybe with that logic, she shouldn’t worry so much about it?

Nice try, she tells herself, flopping back down on the bed again. That turns out to be a mistake, as black spots dance before her eyes or a few seconds and the room seems to tilt and slide down to one side. It’s only after she squeezes her eyes closed and shakes her head for a bit that it subsides. Clearly, she’s not quite shaken off that last round yet.

When she opens her eyes, she nearly jumps right off the bed. Cassie, that woman from the Cancer Fund, is standing in the doorway, her mouth hanging in a miniature ‘oh’ and her hand half extended towards her. Relief floods her face as she power walks towards her bed, apparently oblivious to the heart attack that she just gave her.

“Oh are you okay, hon?” she asks her.

“Yeah I’m okay,” she sighs, shifting just enough to be out of her reach. Something about her means Janis want those peach-painted nails nowhere near her. Cassie either manages to pick up on that or hangs back of her own accord, since she simply sits down beside her, her hands folded in her lap.

“You left the door open, and I was going to knock, but then I saw you-”

“I’m fine,” she says firmly, pressing her hands into the mattress. She takes a deep breath and manages to not scowl at her, which is an achievement by her standards given how awkward she feels and her overall discomfort around her. Never mind that she was kind of dealing with something before she walked in. “Um… what’s up?”

“I just wanted to check you’re all ready for this Saturday?” she asks. “For the photography project.”

“Yeah I know that’s Saturday.” In the very, very back of Janis’ mind she does think that maybe, a little bit, she’s being slightly too gruff here. Especially since the woman’s only trying to help out here. “Yeah, I’m all set. My friends are coming. Well, my friend and my girlfriend.”

“Oh that’s great,” she says. “So it starts at 12:30, but you might want to get your friends around a bit before that just to make sure everything’s going to be set up in time. And the photographer’s said that you can have a little play around with the camera first, just so you can see how it all works. Although something tells me you’d be a natural with one of those anyway.”

“Well I wouldn’t say a natural,” she says with a shrug. “Although I did do the photos for my school paper in freshman year.”

“See. I knew this would be right up your alley with all your artsy stuff,” she says and Janis actually laughs. Maybe this lady isn’t so bad. She’s kind of like Karen in some ways with all that perpetual sunshine and optimism, just a little smarter. Maybe that’s what Karen could do after school. Work with people like her. Cassie taps her leg with the folder she’s carrying, giving her a smile that scrunches up her face. “See you Saturday, bright eyed and bushy tailed.”

“Aren’t I always, Cass?” she asks her.

“And your mom told me about all the fun you had at your school,” she adds on her way out. “I’m so glad you had such a nice time.” Janis nods at that, giving her a small wave as she leaves. She lets out a long breath and cranes her neck to look at the mirror again, sad to see that her eyebrows haven’t done a miraculous regrow since two minutes ago. They must have fallen before yesterday, she thinks. She has to wonder if anyone else noticed them. If Damian did after she tackle hugged him or if Cady did when she kissed them. Janis rubs the back of her neck as another unwelcome question creeps into her mind; did they simply not notice, or did they notice and just decide not to tell her?

It seems that today she’s the popular one, because Cassie isn’t the only one to call into her room. Because that night, when her last round is due, Doctor Wiley accompanies the nurse on duty that day. Her dad is over too, making her already small room feel even tighter.

“Good evening Janis,” Doctor Wiley agrees. “And Mr Sarkisian, nice to see you.”

“He’s here for the burgers and the burgers only,” Janis says dryly, smirking over in her dad’s direction. True enough, there is a plate on his lap with a half-eaten burger and the remainder of fries.

“Sometimes I just don’t want to cook for myself,” he replies, giving an over-exaggerated shrug. Janis chuckles; as does Wiley as the nurse hooks up her IV. Her eyes move anxiously towards her dad. She’s never been given the impression that this bothers him, but nine times out of then he comes over when she’s already been hooked up or is here way before it’s due. He rarely sees her getting hooked up and since it’s not a great experience for her, it’s not something she wants many people to see.

“So, Janis,” Wiley asks. “How are we feeling tonight?”

“Fantabulous,” she replies, throwing up a little reflexive peace sign. She always delights in the look of happy confusion on Wiley’s face when she pulls stuff like this. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, well I’m doing well,” he says. He goes to ask something else, but the nurse interrupts him.

“Okay, I’m going to put this in now, okay?” she asks.

“Just make sure you actually hit my vein, Lucy,” she says. Her dad laughs at that, but he’s the only one who does. She makes a mental note to tell him about every time she’s been made to feel like a human pin cushion. Luckily, Lucy is an old hand at this and she only has to bite her cheek and curl her toes in once.

You’d think that, over two months into this, she’d be used to stuff like this.

“Okay, that’s you for the next two hours, hon,” Lucy tells her. “You comfy enough?”

“Like a queen,” she says. Lucy nods and bids goodbye to her parents before heading off, surprisingly without Doctor Wiley. Something shifts in Janis, and she reaches out and pulls Purrlock towards her. Just in case.

“Would you mind I closed this door?” he asks. Janis holds Purrlock even closer.

“Um, no, of course not,” her mom says. “Is there something wrong?”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Wiley says. He sits down on the opposite side of Janis’ bed. “Just that I’ve been talking with some of my colleagues, and we think now would be a good time for a bone marrow aspiration to monitor Janis’ progress.”

“Bone marrow aspiration?” Janis asks. “What’s that?”

“Just a small procedure to monitor how well this is going,” he explains. “We’d just be taking a sample of your bone marrow to check how well the treatment is going. At this stage, we’d like to think you’re well on your way to being finished, but we just want to make sure. And if the results are good, we can carry on as normal and finish up as planned?”

“Alternatively, they could be super, super good and I could be let out early,” she says.

“Well, we’ve never seen that happen,” he says. “But we do like to hope for miracles around here. So what do you say?”

Janis looks over at her parents, but it’s a no-brainer really.

“Sounds good,” she says. “When do we start?”

“Well, any point next week really,” he says. “We’d obviously like to get it done as quickly as possible so we can give you your results as soon as we can.” Janis nods, chewing the inside of her cheek as her stomach twists uneasily. This test thing is important, she can’t deny that. And if it’s good news, then she’ll know for sure she’s on her way out of here. Maybe she can start packing everything else up and taking it back home, so she can move out as fast as possible.

But the last time she got a test like this done, it didn’t work out so well. That’s the reason she’s here to begin with. A little black cloud had followed her around throughout that day, dominating everything. Like she knew what was going to happen. And while it may just be her brain playing tricks on her, she feels an unpleasant kind of déjà vu. If there’s one day she’d never want to live again, it’s that one.

“You okay kid?” her dad asks. Janis blinks, back in reality, finding her parents both looking at her expectantly and Doctor Wiley having already left while she was zoned out. She probably missed something there and he just assumed she was listening.

“I’m fine,” she says. Her hand rests on her arm, just over where the needle breaks through her skin. There’s a collection of little bruises on that arm now, alarmingly dark against her pale skin. She looks like a dalmatian there. “Hey Mom, can you get me a yogurt from downstairs? I’d go myself, but…” She gestures at her IV and the conversation ends there.

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” she says, shooting up. “Be back in a second.” Her dad nods, squeezing her hand gently before she goes and Janis feels the need to avert her eyes. Not for the first time, she’s reminded she isn’t the only person affected by this.

“Hey dad?” she asks quietly. Her hand curls into the blanket, the question catching in her throat. “What do you do all week when we’re not home?”

It catches him off guard, it caught her off guard too. She may love her parents, and they may have been through more with them than other families have, but this kind of blunt and open earnestness is unusual for her. She gives him a shrug and picks at the blanket as he tries to find an answer.

“Well… I go to work,” he says. “I watch TV. I make dinner. I walk the puppy. I play with the puppy. I feed the puppy. I call people. I keep busy.” He hesitates for a moment before moving over to her bed, his dinner sitting abandoned on the chair. He pokes her side, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smile. “I’m okay, Janis. I keep myself entertained.”

“Do you… do you get lonely?” She doesn’t miss how her voice shakes as she asks the question and she suddenly feel so much younger than she is. “Y’know, without me and mom?”

There’s a long pause, and then he answers “Sometimes. A lot of the time, yeah.” His hand is on her shoulder now, where he would have run her fingers through her hair. “And that’s why I keep so busy. So time goes faster until I can see you again.”

She nods. She imagines him all alone in their big house, eating breakfast by himself, the kitchen being the only light on in the house. Maxie barking at him because there’s no-one else to bark at until she comes home. Watching TV and working and checking the clock. Eating dinner for one. She tries not to get too emotional when her dad is around, but the way the guilt comes is almost too much, rolling in waves over her. Even for someone as experienced in hiding as she is, it’s hard to suppress fully. It’s only because Damian has already chastised her for it that she doesn’t apologise for it, instead opting to squeeze his hand tightly.

“Oh, don’t tell Maxie I told you I get lonely,” he tells her, a serious edge to his voice. “I don’t want him to think I don’t appreciate him.”

She lets out a laugh at that, like a little patch of blue in her grey mood.

“I won’t,” she tells him, equally as severe. “Besides, I think Max knows you love him really.”

******

The first thing Janis does on Saturday morning is down a cup of coffee. No exaggeration, the first word out of her mouth when she wakes up is ‘coffee’. She normally doesn’t like eating or drinking anything in the mornings, having learned from experience that the nausea means she’ll only puke it up later, but she’s decided to make an exception this once. She did the calculations the night before; if she gets a coffee and drinks the whole thing before her first round is due, then her body will absorb all the caffeine before she can vomit it back. And then she gets another one about an hour before Cady and Damian arrive, just to make sure she’s at her peak performance today. It’s a fool proof plan if she does say so herself, even if Cady had been a little sceptical of it when she told them. Still, they had said that if Janis was sure, they weren’t going to fight her on it.

“Besides, I’m sure your doctor would tell you if this was a bad plan,” they had said. “Right?”

“Right,” Janis had agreed, silently crossing her fingers behind her back. It wasn’t technically a lie, since Cady had never asked if she’d run her plan by a medical professional, but it still felt like one.

But it seems to be working, since she’s walking into her room with her second coffee in hand, stirring the five sugars she had dumped in it. It’s not her usual order, but since she can barely taste anything, she figured she may as well go crazy. And more sugar plus more caffeine just means more energy, right?

In addition to planning out her coffee equation last night, she also planned out her outfit. She had sent her dad a list via text of what to bring over on Wednesday so she could pick it out; meaning he had walked in with a confused look on his face and a grocery bag full of her old stuff that she hadn’t seen in months. At some point she had started leaving her nicer things at home and started investing in comfort over style. It felt a little odd, taking out all her old stuff. Like she was looking through old photos of herself.

She spent more time than she cares to admit deciding between outfits, swapping out garments and swapping them back again, mixing and matching until she found a combination that she deemed cute enough. Still comfortable, but something she would have worn normally before all this started. That’s what she’s after. Something normal.

She locks the door, just in case, and takes her pyjama top off, picking up the grey sweater she had chosen for today, decorated with a white thread skeleton on the front. Just as she pulls it on however, she comes to a depressing realisation. It’s too big on her. She doesn’t-won’t-look in the mirror, but she can tell from how lost she feels inside it, the fabric swamping her. The sleeves envelope her hands, her fingers poking out like icicles on a roof. She pulls off her leggings and grabs her tights, hoping that it looks better when it’s all together. She can’t believe she didn’t think of this. She’s said to her mom that a lot of her stuff doesn’t fit her anymore and she’s even been grown up enough to order sweats and t-shirts and pyjamas in smaller sizes. She and her mom have even had arguments over who’s paying for it. So far, winning has been split 50/50. So how did this slip her mind?

The tights don’t pose a problem, and neither do the shorts up until she has to close them. They hold up, for now, but barely hang onto her hips. And that’s when she’s standing still. She looks through the bag until she finds a belt for them, glad she at least had the foresight to ask for one. She threads it through and pulls it to the last hole, relieved to find it at least does something. They don’t exactly feel like they used to, but they’re at least secure enough for her not to worry about them.

She never thought she’d be glad for that.

She completes the look with a little shimmering black beanie, gifted from Gretchen (“I just saw it in the mall and thought ‘wow it’s so Janis’,” she had said), before checking herself in the mirror. She doesn’t know what she was expecting really. The outfit looks good-she looks good, if she may be permitted to say so. She can’t complain about the outfit, really. She chose well. It just doesn’t look like she thought it would. Where the sweater would have hugged her body before it hangs limply off her frame. Tucking it into the shorts is only a slight improvement. She hadn’t thought about how wearing the shorts shows off how thin her legs are now, nor how much room she has inn. She looks like a kid playing dress-up. They don’t look like her clothes. Nor do they look like they belong on her body.

She pulls her eyes away from the mirror, swallows past the lump in her throat and picks up her phone. According to Cady’s text, she and Damian are five minutes away, her point proven by a picture she sends of the two of them cheesing at the camera while riding the bus. That brings a smile to Janis’ face despite her little wobble, and she slips the phone into her pocket and grabs her bag before heading out into the foyer, following the sound of echoing voices and the occasional flash of light following a camera shutter.

She isn’t the only one who got dressed up for this occasion, she sees. The pyjamas are all put away for today, her friends putting on what she assumes is their finest. They didn’t even plan this, but for some things they all go into a hivemind here. The place is packed and not just with patients; friends and family have come around for this. She recognises a few moms and dads and waves accordingly, but the friends are all foreign to her. Melissa throws her head back and laughs, talking to a dark haired boy Janis guesses is from her school. Janis waves and while she doesn’t get one back, she’s okay with it.

She finds Maddie in the crowd too, a camera around her neck and surrounded by what she can only describe as a group of ‘mini-Maddies’. They all look different, but all have the same toothy grin and wide eyes, all dimples in cheeks and limbs a little too long for their bodies. When Maddie tries to wave them over to a wall, they all move as one big flock of teenage girls, and Janis has to laugh. They’re adorable at that age, so she’s heard.

“Oh, hello!” A voice to her right grabs her attention and admittedly makes her jump a little bit. When she turns around there’s a young-ish guy in a leather jacket, holding a professional looking camera in his hand, and there’s no prizes for guessing where he’s from. “You’re one of the kids right?”

“Nah I just really like hanging out here,” she says flatly, only one corner of her mouth turned up. He gets the sarcasm, thankfully, and even laughs at it, extending his hand.

“I’m Sebastian.”

“Janis,” she tells him, shaking his hand.

“Okay, well I see you haven’t been given a camera,” he tells her. “So here.” The camera he had is deposited into her hands and despite her own experience with photography, she’s surprised at the weight.

“Oh, okay,” is her response, her body suddenly a lot less stable with such an expensive piece of equipment. “Uh, I’m still waiting on my friends to show up…” Her phone buzzes in her pocket, making her heart almost drop to the floor. She can’t take any shocks, not when she’s holding something that, again, looks like it costs her college tuition. “And that’s probably them now.”

“Okay, fantastic!” Sebastian says. “So here, I’ll just put your name on this here, and then you and your friends can go and take all the pictures you like. Did you bring any props?”

“All in here,” she says. She goes to pat the bag before thinking better of it and nods at it instead. “I wouldn’t call them props really. Just bits and pieces of stuff from my room. My paintbrushes, a flag, my stuffed animals.” She gives a shrug. “I’m only sad I couldn’t bring my dog with me too.”

“Trust me, you are not alone,” he says. “Anyway I’ll leave you to it… and I assume these are your friends?”

Janis blinks and turns around, finding Cady rushing up to her side, Damian just behind.

“Hey,” Cady greets, about to go for a hug.

“Woah, woah, I am holding possibly the most expensive piece of equipment in this hospital right now,” Janis says. She goes for a little half-hug instead, and it works just as well.

“Sorry,” Cady says. “Just excited. This actually seems really cool.”

“Really, really cool,” Damian chimes in. “They’ve got a proper modelling shoot going on over there.” Another flash goes off just as he tells them, and Janis can vaguely make out a girl standing pouting against a wall.

“Well you know what we’re like in here,” Janis says. “Any chance we have to get dolled up and pretty, we jump for it.”

“There’s a Zodiac joke in there but I’m not sure if it’s offensive or not to make it.”

“Okay, you joke about that,” Janis jokes. “But I’ve met three people in this ward alone who are actually Cancers! Crazy right?”

“Sure sounds it,” Cady says before clasping their hands together, looking around the room expectantly. “So… do you have a plan of action here?”

“I do indeed, Caddy.” She fiddles with the camera for a second before finding the strap and throwing it around her neck, leaving her other hand free to hold out to Cady. She takes it with a grin. “Let’s go my little poppets.”

She pulls them into a corner, away from the bigger action, and kneels down on the floor, the other two following suit.

“Okay so I kind of have this thing planned out,” she explains. “This whole thing is about showing the ‘person behind the cancer’, right? Like you know, show how we’re still… people. Individuals, right?”

“Noble cause,” Damian says as Janis opens her bag. Realisation dawns on his face as she does so.

“So I just brought a bunch of stuff that’s important to me,” she finishes.

“Do we count as stuff that’s important to you?” Cady teases, already knowing the answer.

“You two are my most important stuff,” she says, dropping a kiss onto Cady’s nose. She looks between the two of them, awkwardness slowly building up in her. “So I kind of wanted some photos of me like… drawing and stuff. You know, what I’d normally do.” She shrugs, a timid grin tugging on her lips. “And you two can play photographer for this part.”

“Oh fuck yeah,” Damian says.

“I also want photos with you two,” she adds. “A lot of pictures with you two. They said… like I’m not sure exactly but they said that they’d put up some of everyone’s work on the walls but we’d also get to keep all our own ones in this little book thing they’ll make for us. I don’t know, I’ve probably explained this to you before.”

“You did, sort of,” Cady says, tucking her hair behind her ears and straightening her shoulders. “Okay, so why don’t we start with some shots of you drawing? It’s sort of you in your natural habitat after all.” She looks over at Damian, excitement sparking in her eyes. “Uh… Damian? Do you mind if I use the camera first?”

“Oh, does someone like the big shiny toy?” Janis teases.

“Do I mind?” Damian says at the exact same time. “Young child, you take as many photos as you want.” Janis hands the camera off to Cady, her heart admittedly picking up a little as she does so. “Meanwhile, I want to play director.”

“Director?” Janis echoes, looking over at an equally confused Cady.

“Yes, director,” he says. “Well you can’t expect to model yourself do you?”

“Jerk,” she says, grinning even so. She sits up and shakes her head, tossing imaginary hair over her shoulders. “Okay genius. Sculpt me.”

That’s all the incentive Damian needs. He climbs over to her as she gets her sketchbook and pencils out of her bag. She tries not to let him see how much emptier her book is compared to last year’s. If he does notice he doesn’t show it even as she opens on a half-finished drawing. He pokes at her and turns her head as she fights off her laughter, her shoulders shaking with the effort.

“This lighting is terrible,” he declares.

“What lighting?” she asks, gesturing to the window. “The sun?”

“Yes. The sun is terrible. Fuck the sun.”

“I remember the myth of Icarus slightly differently to you it seems,” Janis says.

“Okay, okay, now just move that pretty little head of yours down by a millimetre,” he says. “And… perfection. All yours Cady.”

Cady mumbles something that sounds like ‘finally’ before the flash goes off in Janis’ vision.

“You know your way around that thing,” Janis comments when she’s sure they’ve finished. Cady shrugs, a proud grin on her face.

“Back in Kenya I took some photos of the animals,” she explains. “Research purposes, you know?”

“Indeed. So do I look good here?” she asks.

“See for yourself.” Cady fiddles with it for a bit and turns it towards her. Janis’ breath hitches when she sees it. She picked a good one, and Damian did a good job too; she sits with her book balanced between her knees, her fingers fiddling with the pencil. The light that Damian hated so badly drapes across her, chasing away the pale complexion she’s become used to. She has this faraway look about her, lost in her artwork, just the way she loves to be.

“Oh I do look good,” she says.

“Do you want a moment alone with the camera?” Damian asks, an eyebrow raised. She gives him a tiny flip off before pulling herself up, her muscles groaning just slightly. At least everything is sitting still for her today. That coffee she took must have been better than she thought. They take a couple more of her posing, looking wistfully out the window, Purrlock sitting on her lap, throwing peace signs up at the camera.

“Okay, I know what I want to shoot next.” There’s a little bit of a buzz about her as she pulls her next thing out of her bag; her pride flag. She still remembers the day she got it; she was 14 and practically shoved it across the counter of the little store in New York, the unplanned purchase that turned into her most cherished possession. She wraps it around herself now, the flimsy, thin fabric wrapping around her like a trusted blanket and grins at them.

“I love it,” Damian says as Cady snaps a picture of her again and again, her trying out a million different poses, being silly, being serious, trying and failing to be sexy, hoisting it in the air like a flag. When she asked about it, Cassie had told her to bring props that meant something to her, that showed who she really is inside. Of course her flag was one of the first things that came to mind.

“Hey, Caddy,” she says when the flashing subsides for a moment. “You brought yours too, right?”

“Yeah,” they reply. “I just brought the little one, though I don’t really get it…. Oh.” Realisation dawns on Cady’s face, lighting it up from the inside out. Janis opens her arms to her, laughing as she struggles to pull her own flag out of her backpack. After a bit of deliberating, she hangs the bag and the camera to Damian, who swings the former up on his shoulder, and rushes over to Janis, the colours of her bi flag meshing into a blur. When she crashes into Janis’ body, her head smacking into her chin and her waist, that’s when Damian decides to take the picture.

“Hey!” she snaps. “No fair, we weren’t ready!”

“But you looked so cute!” he squeaks, rolling his eyes when Janis gives him a pointed look. “Okay, okay, fine. Get into poses you little lovebirds.”

Cady’s head settles on her shoulder, her flag circling the both of them as she puts her arm around them, her cheek coming to rest against her hair. Cady’s free hand circles around her waist and slides into her pocket, her touch warm against her skin. Despite Damian’s wording, it doesn’t feel like a pose. It feels so, so natural, just like breathing.

She presses her lips to Cady’s head and feels her smiling against her just as the camera goes off again.

“God you two are so cute,” Damian sighs. She swears she sees his eyes misting over, overly sentimental monster that he is. Even if he tries to shake it off and pretend to be the tough guy. “It reminds me that I’m single and lonely.”

“And ready to mingle!” Janis reminds him. Cady’s hand trails off her waist and takes her hand, fingers laced together, and Janis swings their hands between them. “Okay I have one more idea… and I need the two of you in it.”

“Okay, then who’s taking the picture?” Damian asks, his eyes scanning the room for someone, as if they’ll come rushing over to help them. And around here that is often the case, but not today, what with all the nurses enjoying their momentary break. Janis shakes her head instead, a gleam in her eye.

“We are,” she says simply before grabbing Damian’s hand and pulling him closer. “Old school style.”

Getting into position for this isn’t easy, especially not with the two of them being so much taller than Cady and Janis feeling extra cautious around the camera. Bubbly lover of life that she is, Cady initially tires jumping on Damian, and he actually does manage hold her up, even if they do wobble a little. The two laugh at themselves and then each other, the sound so light and musical that it makes Janis’ heart swell. She snaps a quick photo of them, remembering to turn the flash off. It might not have been planned, but when she looks at it, a moment frozen just for her, she’s so glad she caught it.

“Hey Janis come over here!” Damian calls, Cady’s legs wrapped around his waist. “Or are you just going to sit there and look at yourself all day?”

“I’m coming, jerk,” she sighs, running over and kneeling beside him. Cady’s hand comes and rests on the back of her neck; she guesses it’s equal parts affection and trying to keep herself steady. Janis stretches her arm out as far as she can, the screen turned so they can see their themselves, laughing and helpless, fighting for a spot in the frame. Their backs slowly start to hurt, their cheeks aching from so much smiling.

“Have you got this?” Cady asks. “It’s fine if you don’t, I’m comfortable up here.”

“Speak for yourself you little twerp,” a red-faced Damian gasps.

“Okay, okay, okay there we are!” Janis says, tapping the floor in excitement when she sees all three of their faces in the frame. “Okay we only have this for a millisecond so say cheese you two! Three, two, one!”

After the shutter goes off they collapse on the floor, the sound of their laughter echoing off the polished walls. Nurses run over to help them, no doubt on alert seeing one of theirs on the floor seemingly suffocating, and the worst part is none of them can catch their breath long enough to tell them that they’re okay. All it takes is one to look at another and their progress in fixing themselves is gone; they’re one again reduced to cackling messes on the foyer floor.

God, Janis thinks as she sits up, pulling Cady into a sitting position beside her and hugging her close. What would she do without these two?

Later that evening, Damian is draped across her bed, flicking through her mom’s magazine. The three of them had hung out as much as they could when they had finished up, but Cady had been pulled out of it by her phone reminding her of another tutoring session.

“I’m sorry,” she had sighed. “It’s not normally on today, but they were sick so we had to reschedule. I should have moved it earlier, I didn’t think-”

“Nuh-uh, Heron,” Janis told her, tapping her nose. “Don’t you go apologising for your magnificent service to the North Shore community.” Cady scrunches up her face at that. “Besides, you’re probably bringing the average of the entire school up and I don’t want Mrs Norbury coming for me when her classes start failing again.”

“She never would,” she said. They paused for a moment, stuck in a half-embrace, until Damian took the hint and turned his attention to the outside of Janis window. Satisfied, Cady stood up on her tiptoes and pressed their lips to Janis’ in a sweet kiss. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“I had hoped so,” she murmured against her, sneaking another peck. She rubbed her nose against Cady’s, debating whether or not she should convince her to stay. Eventually she let her go, squeezing her hand one more time and promising to text her tomorrow before she left.

And now she’s here, munching on a cereal bar and scribbling in the corner of her sketchbook. All day, but especially since Cady left, her new development had hung around her mind, never really leaving and letting her have peace. The mere idea of not telling Damian just doesn’t sit right with her at all. Not just because he’d know if she kept something from him anyway. He’s given up so much because of this, all for her.

The question is how does she tell him? It’s not like it’s a ‘sit down and take a deep breath’ kind of moment, but it’s not something she wants to brush off either. It’s important, and she’d be stupid not to recognise that. After pondering on it, she finds just being blunt seems to be the best approach, so she taps his shoulder, opens her mouth and-

“So I have a thing next week.”

Wow she thinks. That went well. She guesses she put way too much faith in her communication abilities there.

“A thing?” he asks, turning to look at her. “What kind of thing?”

“It’s…” She clears her throat. “It’s a bone marrow aspiration.”

“Oh.” He turns around to face her then, his eyes wide with concern as he nods seriously. She lets out a snort in response, her demeanour the opposite of his.

“You have no clue what that is, do you?”

“I know what bone marrow is,” he replies. He picks at his nails, his jaw setting. “And I guess it’s about you. Your cancer, I mean.”

“It’s to see how well I’ve progressed since getting in here,” she tells him, her voice more quiet than she thought it would be. She shrugs weakly as he takes it in, growing only slightly worried at how quiet he is. “Just to check everything’s working like it should.”

“And are you…” He waves his hand in the air. “Confident about it?”

The question takes her by surprise. She had never really thought about it as a question of confidence. Confidence is for her the things she has control over; her friendships, her art, her future. Not for this.

“It’s not really up to me, is it?” she says with a shrug. “I mean I’ve been doing everything I should be doing. Guess all we can do right now is hope.” Damian nods again, his hands clasped in his lap almost like he’s praying. Silence stretches out between them, marked only by the ticking of the clock, and it’s unsettling. They’ve had their fair share of heart-to-hearts, but they’ve always ended with jokes and smiles, holding hands and resting on each other, one holding the other up. Now he’s sitting away from her, his eyes unreadable. “Damian?” asks after a long while.

“You’ll be fine.” He looks up then with a fierce determination in his eyes, his voice stronger than she’s ever heard it. Not even onstage has she ever seen him like this. “You will be.”

She takes a deep breath. That’s what everyone tells her; her doctors, her parents. It’s what she tells herself, really. That she’s been doing everything right, and with the way this medicine is kicking her ass, it has to be working. And she wants to believe that she’ll be fine, that everything will be as it should be. But that’s what she thought the first time around too. If there’s one thing she’s learned by now, it’s to not take things for granted.

And it hurts seeing him like this. It hurts seeing him believe something so much when she can’t guarantee it. She remembers clear as day the first time she told him, the two of them alone in her bedroom, how it tore at her heart to tell him. How much it had crushed him. How does she stop that from happening again?

She shuffles towards him, her heart crawling up her mouth, and takes his hand, finding it as cold and clammy as her own is.

“Damian,” she whispers. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

It’s only when she sniffles she realises she’s started crying.

“I think this will be okay,” she tells him. “I think when I go in and I do that test, I think those results will say I’m doing good. That’s what the doctor thinks.” She swallows past the lump in her throat. “But if it’s not-”

“Janis-”

“Can you just listen to me?” she asks. When he closes his mouth, lips pressed into a thin line, she continues. “But if it isn’t, I need you to promise me you’ll be okay with it. That you aren’t going to worry about me every day. That you’re going to go ahead and live.” She wipes at her face. “Just be okay for me. Promise me that.”

“You know I can’t promise you that.” He shakes his head. “I’ll be okay when you’re okay.”

“No.” She shifts onto her knees, looking him right in the eye. “Listen to me, Damian. You need to promise that whatever happens to me, you aren’t going to fall apart.” His hand comes up and he laces their fingers together. “I don’t know what I’d do if I knew you weren’t okay and it was because of me.” She pokes his cheek and wipes his tears off his face. “So just promise me that… in the unlikely event that it’s not what we want to hear… you won’t fall apart.”

It feels like a lifetime before he nods too, his own eyes wet and glistening under the lights. He then pulls her into a wordless hug, her fragile body held in his strong arms, his hand running up and down her back. She lets out a shuddering breath and it feels like weeks’ worth of frustration and loneliness and downright misery is let out as well, all as she melts into his arms.

“God you really know how to kill a mood, don’t you, Sarkisian?” he whispers and she finally laughs. “Here, I got you something.”

She pulls away from him just enough for him to reach into his pocket and produce a candy bar packed in a silver wrapper, one she vaguely recognises but can’t place.

“Courtesy of Maisie,” he says. She lifts it carefully, treating it with the utmost care. “From her Halloween haul. You should be real grateful; she doesn’t give that up lightly.”

“I am,” she says, a slight laugh in her voice. “Tell her that for me, okay?” He nods as she pulls it out of the wrapper and breaks it in half, holding one out to him. She raises an eyebrow when he shakes his head. “Come on, you deserve it too.” She looks up at his head, hidden under a rainbow coloured beanie. “You said I wasn’t going through this alone. And that includes the good parts too.”

He rolls his eyes but takes it all the same, a smile on his face that’s as soft as his soul is. She turns so that they sit hip to hip and her head can rest on his shoulder, their hands clasped between them, eating in companionable silence, sharing the occasional smile.

It’s not that she isn’t worried, she is. That foreboding feeling won’t leave her alone and she’s given up on trying. It’s just that when she’s sitting here with him holding his hand, the black cloud doesn’t seem as close as it was.

#mean girls musical #mean girls fanfic #mean girls #janis sarkisian #damian hubbard #cadnis #cadnis ff #fic: heart of stone

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

Change of Plans - Part 1

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (An It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe AU, set nearly 3 years after that epilogue)

Word Count: ~3000

Rating: PG-13 (just some adult language)

Summary: Living in NYC in March 2020 is redefining normal for Drake and Riley. Life doesn’t always go according to plan during a pandemic, after all.

Author’s Note: Ummmm, I tried to avoid writing this. I really did. But as I was sitting down to do some detailed outlines for the It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment sequel, all my brain kept wanting to explore was COVID-19 content in that universe. At first, I just bullet pointed some head canons, hoping that would be enough to scratch the itch. But it wasn’t. The fact of the matter is if you’ve read anything I’ve written, you know I’m all about grounding the Choices characters and stories in the real world to a certain degree. So to write an AU where Drake and Riley live in New York City and not address the horrible crisis that city is facing just didn’t feel true to me as a writer.

That being said, I understand fanfic is often an escape from the real world. I understand that addressing the current pandemic at all might not be your thing, even though I don’t take it to any truly sad or tragic places. So, no worries, this is an AU inside my AU. This will not be an “official” part of the sequel. It’s its own little two-part piece that inches a bit more firmly into the real world than the actual sequel, Why Are We Still Waiting?.

So, tagging all my usual It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment taglists, but no hard feelings if this is just a little too real. I will mention that this does hint at or reference some events from the prologue and the first couple of chapters of Why Are We Still Waiting?, but it does not spoil the core content of the story. Plus, to be fair, it’s not like I write things with big plot twists really. Much like It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment was essentially a Drake character study, Why Are We Still Waiting? is a Riley Liu character study, and I’m not really sure you even can spoil those.

Alright, I’ve rambled in this AN for far too long already. In case you skimmed and missed it, Trigger warning for coronavirus discussions.

Drake glanced up from his laptop as he heard the locks click on the apartment door, Riley and Anderson walking through a few seconds later. Riley unclasped Anderson’s leash and hung it on the hooks Drake had installed, followed by her coat and her keys, before sliding off her shoes and going straight into the kitchen to wash her hands. The space next to their door had become their “dirty zone.” For now, they weren’t changing all their clothing when they got back inside, but Drake was thinking that doing so should probably be their next step.

Taking Anderson out was now basically the only time either one of them left the apartment. With Riley being furloughed from her PR firm on Friday and Drake working from home for all of last week, there really wasn’t any other reason to do so. At the moment, they were doing okay for food and whatnot, but Drake was not looking forward to having to deal with that in the upcoming weeks. He wasn’t sure whether they should switch to just getting delivery that they could safely reheat, but exposing themselves to a new driver every couple of days, or if they should risk making a trip to Foodtown and stocking up for a few weeks just once. Deep down, he knew the latter was the better option, but neither of them had been to a bodega or grocery store in the past week, and he was kind of dreading it now that more people were starting to take this seriously since the schools were closed. Maybe he could pull out the box of five masks he’d bought when he was sanding down and repainting the dresser and see if he had one left for each of them.

For the past four days, with both of them with nowhere to be, they’d alternated who was leaving the relative safety of their apartment to get a little fresh air with the dog. Even before that, Riley was just going to work and coming straight home, and she’d been riding an old bicycle she bought from a coworker to avoid the subway. But now, she had nowhere to be and neither did he. On her first day at home, Drake had been reluctant to have Riley go out at all now that she didn’t need to do so. He’d seen the news stories about the hate crimes popping up against Asian Americans, and it seemed like an unnecessary risk. But he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to convince her to essentially become a shut in while he left the apartment a couple of times every day to walk Anderson. Plus, as she had pointed out, she was still in her 20s and wasn’t a former smoker, so by all accounts, she was medically a lower risk than him. Still, he got nervous every time she left and always felt a little better when she came back.

Overall, Drake knew things could be a lot worse for the two of them. Because of his conversations with Liam, he’d been slowly stocking up on nonperishables for the past month or so. He had not only a permanent job, but one with a law firm that allowed him to work from home. They had a one bedroom, not a studio, so Riley didn’t have to stay silent during his Zoom meetings with his boss or team. But losing Riley’s salary was certainly not great for them. They’d be okay for at least the next month, but going forward, things might get a little tight. Not only that, but Riley was clearly going stir crazy already, with no one to see and nothing to do. Well, nothing to do except send emails and make calls to Texas to postpone their wedding.

In the grand scheme of things, Drake knew that postponing a wedding was a minor loss. In fact, if that was the worst loss that they suffered at the end of all this, they would be very fortunate. And now that the president had banned travel from Europe, there was little chance of the majority of their already small guest list being able to make it. But it still sucked, particularly since they’d already had to postpone last year.

He and Riley had talked about it last week, after the travel ban came down. Even though the wedding was seven weeks away, it had just seemed like the smart call to start cancelling things now instead of waiting until the last minute. The original plan had been for him to make the needed calls and whatnot since he was working from home, but since Riley now had infinite free time, she’d contacted everyone except his mother and aunt, who he had called over the weekend. His mother had been confused at first, saying she didn’t understand why they needed to postpone already and that she was sure it will have all “blown over” by May. Aunt Leona, on the other hand, had seemed pleased by the decision, telling him she was glad he wasn’t bringing that “Chinese virus” down to them from New York. Drake wasn’t sure whose response was more infuriating.

As Riley flopped down on the couch next to him, she let out a loud sigh. When he’d been working out of their apartment and she’d still been going into the office, they’d tried to maintain some distance at home. It had been pretty difficult, though. Although this place was way bigger than her old studio, they still just had the one bathroom, and obviously they were still sleeping in the same bed. Drake had known it had probably been smart of them to spread out as best they could, but he was kind of relieved when Riley had just curled up next to him on the couch this weekend, saying that it was stupid to try and pretend that they were even coming close to effectively socially distancing from one another. Plus, now that she wasn’t going into work, they basically carried the same risk of exposure.

Although she was sitting next to him now, she didn’t make any move to actually touch him. Sensing she wanted to talk about something, he moved his laptop from his knees to the coffee table in front of them. Sure enough, her head landed in his lap not even a full minute later. This had become her habit over the years, to lay down on the couch and put her head across his lap whenever there was something she wanted to talk to him about, usually something serious that she didn’t want to deal with but knew they needed to deal with together.

“So, everything’s pushed back to November 7th,” she said after a couple of moments of silence, “We had to put down another deposit with the florist who was a real asshole about it, but the band, the photographer, and the caterers were really accommodating.” Her fingers traced random patterns across his forearm as she spoke, but her eyes remained closed, almost as if she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye and see their shared disappointment reflected there.

“Thanks, Liu. I’ll call Mom tomorrow and let her know.”

“I did try for October, but the caterers and the florist didn’t have any availability.”

“November’s fine. If the weather’s shitty, we can just have the ceremony inside the barn and the reception in the house. Our guest list is tiny, anyway.”

His statement hung there in the air. There was kind of this unspoken agreement between the two of them to just be matter of fact about postponing. It was a global pandemic. It had to happen. Being upset about it wasn’t going to make things any better. But sometimes, it just hurt, thinking about all their planning and excitement that was just on hold again. The scattered pieces of wedding favors and leftover invitations and the planning binder that Hana had started for them that were visible in every corner of the apartment didn’t help either. They were now mixed in with stacks of dog food, rice, and paper towels, a grim blend of the future they wanted with their new reality.

They didn’t even have any place to tuck the wedding crap out of sight at this point, as their closets and cupboards were filled to the brim with extra supplies. But without a car, Drake had just wanted to make sure they could minimize trips out if… no, when shit really hit the fan. And it’s not like they had that much storage space in their apartment anyway. But now they would have to live with constant reminders that they couldn’t get married and their lives were essentially on hold.

He at least still had work to distract himself with. Now that Riley had cancelled everything, she really didn’t have anything she could focus on to distract herself. He just felt bad for her. “I’m sorry, Liu.”

“For what? None of this is your fault,” Riley said, her eyes popping open and gazing up at him, her hand continuing to trace patterns across the skin of his arm.

Drake sighed, dropping his head to the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I feel guilty that I didn’t get us to Cordonia when I could.” He had been contemplating calling Savannah or Maxwell and seeing if they could come stay with them for a while. Leave the crazy population density that was New York City. Staying at the palace would mean bad optics for Liam, but he figured at least two of the three adults at Ramsford would probably be okay with hosting him and Riley and Anderson. But while he’d been weighing their options with Riley, Liam had closed all flights into Cordonia except for citizens returning home. Since Riley had never become a Cordonian citizen, they were out of luck. Drake knew that if he asked Liam, he would grant Riley some sort of royal exception, but he wasn’t going to put Liam in that position. The last thing Liam needed on his plate was making an accommodation for Riley.

Drake felt Riley’s head leave his lap, and soon her hands were on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Drake, we both were unsure if it was the right call.”

He just shook his head. She could have had Maxwell to spend time with while he worked. Anderson could have gone on walks safely across the grounds and vineyards. But he hadn’t been decisive enough and now it was too late. “I should have seen the writing on the wall.”

“Look at me.” Her voice was firm and carried enough of an edge that Drake complied, tipping his head back to find Riley kneeling next to him on their couch, staring at him with eyes that were somehow intense and sympathetic simultaneously. “We both were concerned about flying right now. We both were unsure about being in a house with both a baby and a toddler and possibly bringing the infection to them. We both wanted to wait to see what would happen. I don’t know why you insist on taking the blame here when we both weren’t sure if heading to Cordonia was the right call.”

“I just wish there was a way to protect you from this.”

She shook her head, “You think I don’t want that, too?”

“I know, Liu. I just feel like…” he trailed off, unable to finish his thoughts. He could have never imagined a situation where he couldn’t take care of her. Keep her safe. But there was nothing he could do about any of this. It just made him feel so powerless.

“Me too, Drake,” she said, tilting her head and sliding her hand down his arm and twining their fingers together. “But nothing else to do but ride this out. Well, that and hope we don’t drive each other too crazy over the upcoming weeks,” she added with a little chuckle. “What time do you think you’ll finish up today?”

“I dunno,” Drake said with a shrug. Since he was a naturally early riser, he’d been getting up and started on his files for the day hours before Riley was waking up, trying to get his work done by mid afternoon most days so that she didn’t feel banished to the bedroom too much. He knew she felt like a distraction to him when he was working, and though he didn’t want to admit it, she kind of was. “By 3:30, I’d guess.”

“Okay,” she replied, letting go of his hand and bouncing off the couch. “I guess it’s time for me to read up on my insurance options. I’ve been putting this off, but it’s probably better to sign up sooner rather than later.”

Drake frowned as she rounded the corner and went down the little hallway to their bedroom. He’d not thought about the fact that her being furloughed might impact her health insurance. He probably should have. Getting way better health insurance when he’d gotten hired as a permanent employee had been a big deal, after all. This employment-connected health insurance thing still just felt strange to him, though.

A thought occurred to him. He minimized the folder of digital files he was reviewing and cataloguing, pulling up instead a search engine. He landed on the city clerk’s website a couple of minutes later, scanning over the requirements, then checking the time. This could work.

“Hey, Liu!” he called out, striding over to the bedroom. Her laptop was in front of her as she lounged on her stomach, Anderson curled up right next to her. She glanced up as he reached the doorway.

“What’s up?”

“Let’s get married.”

She blinked a couple of times and pulled her head back slightly as she cocked it to the side, “Uhh, sounds good, but that was kind of already the plan.” She waved her left hand in the air, his grandmother’s ring catching the light intermittently. “I mean, I’m glad you still want to and everything, but seeing as I did just spend the whole morning rescheduling our entire wedding, I would have been pretty pissed at you if you changed your mind.”

Drake shook his head and rolled his eyes. “No, let’s get married tomorrow.”

Riley’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We can go down to the city clerk’s office now and get our marriage license so we can get married tomorrow.”

“Where is this coming from?”

Drake walked over and sat down on the bed next to her, pointing toward her laptop. “You were going to go on my health insurance after the wedding anyway, right? So let’s do that now instead of having to pay for shitty coverage for you.”

She gave him a gentle little smile, closing her laptop and sliding up onto her knees next to him. She placed one hand between his shoulder blades, rubbing gentle circles before she spoke.

“You are a very sweet marshmallow of a man, you really are. But I know you. And I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush to do this now. We’ll be fine if we wait for the lovely wedding we planned down on the ranch with all of our friends there.”

He shook his head, “I want to do this. The question is, do you?”

“You don’t actually want to do this.”

“Of course I want to do this! You think I give a shit about who’s there or what we wear or if we have the right flowers or what we have for dinner?”

“Yeah, I do. Drake, you may not be much for pomp and glitz, but this wedding that we’ve been planning for years now? I think it matters to you. I think you want Liam and Maxwell and Hana and your mother and sister and niece and nephew there. I think you want to hear our friends toast us and to see Maxwell make a fool of himself on the dance floor and to have Bartie be the ring bearer and that’s okay. It’s okay to want to celebrate with everyone. We can wait until we can do that. This doesn’t have to just be a... logistical arrangement.”

Drake paused for a moment. She wasn’t wrong, exactly. Those were things he wanted. But right now, they seemed like little, insignificant details.

“Look, Liu. You’re right. The thing that prompted me to think about marrying you right now was the practical reasons. But as everything becomes a total shit show, I just feel like the only protection I can offer you is this one. And in an ideal world - sure, I would want the nice little wedding we planned in Texas. But the world has changed a whole fucking lot in the past couple weeks, and nothing is exactly ideal anymore. And if my choices are waiting almost eight months to have the wedding we planned or to marry you tomorrow, I pick marrying you tomorrow. Because, yeah a wedding down on the ranch with our friends sounds great, but the whole point of that wedding is that I get to be your husband. And that’s all I really want.”

She gave him a warm smile and kissed him deeply, sliding her hand up his back and threading her fingers through his hair as his hands fell to her hips. After a few moments, she pulled back.

“So, you aren’t going to look back with regret and feel like we rushed things?”

“I’ve been ready to marry you for years. This doesn’t feel like we’re rushing. It feels like it’s about damn time. At least for me.”

Riley nodded, glancing down. Drake followed her gaze to her left hand, resting gently on her knees.

“It’s not a rush for me either.”

“So, what are you thinking? Should we get married tomorrow?” Drake asked, grabbing her hand in his, staring at her downturned face for a few seconds before she looked up and met his gaze.

“Yeah,” she said, a wide grin sliding onto her face, “Let’s fucking do this.”

Permatag: @ravenpuff02 @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC only: @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley--walker @notoriouscs @butindeed @addictedtodrakefanfic @drakesensworld

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @wickedgypsymoon @thesumofmychoices @cosigottahavefaith @thequeenchoices @katedrakeohd @feartheendlesssummer @ao719 @ooo-barff-ooo @sunnyxdazed

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #trr au #trr au fanfic #tw: coronavirus

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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years

Text

Illusion (chapter 5)

Grey Deer Fic chapter 5! Here’s the link to the full story: link.

As you can see, I changed the name bc I wasn’t vibing with the other one.

WARNING: slight implication of *Sex* (but not with Julius, unfortunately...)

As always, I would really love to hear what you think of this chapter!

"Captain, do you have a minute-"

I stop talking as soon as I poke my head into Captain Hervey's office. It's a sizable room, with rich wood paneling and blue wallpaper making it seem cozy. Several stuffed deer heads are hanging above the severe man's desk, where he sits across from his vice captains. Both Malota and Julius turn around to look at me; obviously I'm interrupting a meeting. "A-Ah, sorry, I'll come back later-"

"Nonsense, spit it out. But make it quick." Hervey gestures me closer, and I gulp and enter the room, a paper clutched in my hands. "What's that?"

This is always a little awkward, even though I've given several of these requests to him over the years. But it's his fault for having the "only registered guests only" rule for our base. "Lawrence wants to come visit tomorrow, can I get your approval?"

Hervey lets out a snort of laughter. "Your fiance? He was here pretty recently, wasn't he? Why do you keep inviting him here, just go visit him yourself."

"Ah, well, he insists. I can't really say no to him..."

But you can, sir. I watch as he takes the paper and looks at it carefully, as if he's making up his mind. Meanwhile, I'm praying that he says NO so I have a good reason to avoid seeing Lawrence tomorrow. Malota looks bored and lets a sigh out through her vulture-like nose. Julius stares at the Captain's table silently. Another reason why I wanted to avoid asking in front of other people is because it becomes awkward like this. Neither of our Vice Captains want to hear about my personal life, I'm sure.

"Very well. But he better be gone by dinner time, I'm not feeding him, even if he is a prince!"

Fuck! I force a smile as he signs the paper, a magical chill moving through the room as he does so. Somehow, Hervey can manipulate the barrier spell he cast around the base to let authorized guests enter after he signs off on it. His ice magic is some of the most powerful I've ever seen, and he's able to upkeep such a potent spell all day and night, subconsciously. He really is amazing, despite his faults, and it's easy to see why he's captain. "Thank you, sir, sorry for interrupting." With that, I turn and shuffle out of the room, feeling a small weight of dread in the pit of my stomach.

Why, though? Why are you dreading this? Lawrence is your Fiance, your future Husband! Shouldn't you be happy to see him?

That's probably what you're thinking, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. I tolerate Lawrence Kira, and that's all. He's 5 years older than me, always acts like he's my superior (which he is, but come on!), and really isn't the most considerate person. He always talks about how great things are expected of him, and how he needs a supportive wife to help him achieve those things and continue the Kira line. "One day." he always tells me. "One day, our children could be the King. Wouldn't you like that?"

No... Not really, actually.

But I can't tell him that. If I show any disrespect, he'll bring the hammer down, on both me and my parents. We're already on thin ice, and this marriage is supposed to save my family. When the engagement was first decided, I was only 5 years old and had no idea what it even meant. As I grew older, I was told how romantic it was going to be. Doesn't every girl want to marry a prince? I was excited to live out what seemed like a fairy tale.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. It soon became clear that Lawrence would never actually love me. At least not all of me. Not only that, but like I said, he's older than me, and as we spent more and more time together, he started to force me to grow up a bit faster than I should have. I'm sure you can guess what I mean.

If I didn't have Alice, I don't know what I would have done. But when I came to her and revealed that I didn't want to marry this prince, she didn't shun me or say I was crazy. She held me, and told me that we were going to get out of this, together. And so, I joined the magic knights, as the first step of my plan. The wedding that was supposed to be when I turned 18 was postponed. Luckily, the Magic Knights are a very esteemed and legitimate career path for both Royalty and nobility, so I was able to get away with it. Lawrence's family even said they were proud that their son would be marrying a magic knight.

Well... it's been 7 years since then. There's no plans for a wedding yet. This engagement can only go on so long before Lawrence decides to break it off. By that time, I'll be able to support my family myself! I don't need a marriage, and I'll finally be free to do what I want.

That's my secret, the secret only Alice and I know. My one hope for tomorrow is that Lawrence will coldly tell me that he can't wait around any longer, and will break it off right then and there.

Of course, it's never that easy.

"Hello, Lawrence."

I stand outside the base to meet him as he transports in with the help of a spatial mage. He brushes himself off before looking up, his grey eyes quickly meeting mine. Unintentionally, I feel a cold chill down my back, something that's always happened when he looks at me like that. "It's been too long, have you really been that busy?" Lawrence asks as he walks over, pulling his cloak a little tighter around himself. The snow has long melted, but its freeze still hangs lightly in the air around us.

"Er, yes, pretty busy." I let him take my hand and pull it up to his lips, not bothering to bend over. A royal shouldn't bow to anyone, after all. His lips are cold on my skin as he kisses the back of my hand, before dropping it immediately. "I actually had a pretty big mission a few days ago, I was able to beat five guys-"

"Yeah, I'm sure. You can tell it to me over lunch." Lawrence dismisses my story kind of quickly before turning to walk towards the base. I wince and hold out a hand to stop him. "Uh-er, we can't eat here!"

"Hmm? Why not?" Lawrence throws a glance over his shoulder.

"Captain Hervey said, uh... we can't spare food right now for outsiders."

"Hmph. Fine. We'll eat in town." Lawrence sighs and turns to walk back to me, grabbing my hand as he does. "Also, what did I tell you about using filler words? Stop saying um and er so much."

"R-right, sorry." I let him pull me along, away from the base.

"Man... are they really in love?"

Giles leans on the windowsill as the others gather around him, peeping down at me and Lawrence as we walk off out of sight. "Every time he comes, she looks like she'd rather be somewhere else."

"It's true," Alice pipes up, leaning against the wall and not bothering to look. "He's a real piece of work, you know."

"How can that be? He's a prince." Elia crosses her arms. "Who wouldn't want to marry a prince?"

"She just wants to live a normal life, I think. She's not cut out for that royalty stuff anyway."

"Nigel, shut up."

Meanwhile, Lawrence and I reach town and make our way towards my favorite resteraunt there. "There's really no other place to eat?" Lawrence asks, pulling his hood up over his head, his eyes darting around the street.

"It's my favorite! I think you'll like it, too." I squeeze his hand, causing him to smile for a moment. "You're afraid of being recognized."

"Yeah... I have a pretty big fanclub you know!"

... I doubt that...

Our base is located in a forest right outside the limits of the noble realm. We're close enough to town so we can get all of our supplies, but secluded enough that Captain Hervey is able to put up our barrier. It honestly feels like a little sanctuary for the squad, but I still like going in to town to see the usual hustle-and-bustle of civilization.

"You know, this type of place does have a little charm." Lawrence talks to me as he quietly sips his beer. His eyes keep darting around the restaurant, as if he were analyzing everything in sight. He's always been like that, cool and calculated, always scheming or sizing the world up. He's really an intelligent man, someone who can keep a level head in any situation. His magic is very strong, too, and it's interesting that he never joined the Magic Knights. When I asked him why a long time ago, he simply said that it wasn't his style. I have a feeling he'd rather be involved in the government down the line.

"I'm glad you think so. I guess not all Royals are so stuffy," I answer, playfully nudging his foot under the table. Lawrence narrows his eyes at me but can't conceal his smile. Ah! I need to stop being so cute around him, remember?

"I'm not that stuffy, am I? I can have fun... what do you and the squad do for fun, anyway?" Lawrence yawns a little, scratching his chin under his hood.

"Hmm..." I think over the past for a moment. "Well, we have little parties in our base now and then. Oh, also, the Captain lets us go to the beach on our days off! We also like to come to town to go drinking some nights."

"Ah... that sounds like fun. A little crude, but fun." Lawrence nods along with my words. "Maybe I'll take you to the beach sometime, just the two of us."

Just the two of us.

"...yeah, sure."

By the time lunch is done, it's obvious to me that Lawrence isn't about to break up with me or anything. In fact, I've somehow managed to warm him back up to me after more than a month of absence, and now...

"Let's go back to the base."

"Huh? Er- Lawrence, I told you before-"

"Stop saying ER! And I don't want to eat. Is your roommate around?"

"...probably not..."

"Good."

This is my least favorite part of his visits. Lawrence hates showing affection out in public, but as soon as we're alone and away from prying eyes, he basically pounces on me. I can't really do much but hold on as his lips crash into mine hungrily. We were each other's first kisses, but I'm pretty sure he's pretty good at it. The way he moves his lips against mine always makes me dizzy, at least. He pushes me until we're both flat on my twin bed, one of his hands bunching up the sheets next to my head. The biggest drawback of avoiding him for so long is that he gets... needy.

However, his affection doesn't last long. As soon as he's done, Lawrence simply pulls the covers over me and gets up. I roll over, feeling a bit sore, and watch as he starts to re-dress himself. "You're leaving?"

"Yeah." Lawrence buttons up his shirt, his fingers fumbling slightly. "I assume I'm not allowed to stay for dinner." He sits back down on the bed to start pulling his shoes and socks on. "I'll come back to visit soon, don't avoid me any more, you hear?"

"...yeah. No guarantees, though." I gulp nervously, pulling the covers over myself more as he looks down at me again. "I'm a magic knight, you know! I have a duty-"

"Your duty should be our future," Lawrence cuts me off, his gaze moving away from me again. "...do you really feel like this is where you belong?"

I open my mouth to respond the answer that I always do: Yes, of course. I'm meant to be a magic knight!

But... I can't say that any more, can I?

Because, for whatever reason, someone on my very own squad wanted me gone.

"Hey... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry."

I didn't even notice the tears trailing down my face until Lawrence reaches out to cup my cheek gently. I look up into his grey eyes, which are filled with warmth, for once. But I still get that chill.

"If something's bothering you... you know where to find me, okay? You're going to be my wife one day, hopefully soon. We can put all this Magic Knights business behind you, but you'll always carry that honor. I'll take care of you, I promise."

... "Alright." I nod slowly, reaching up to hold his hand for a second before he pulls it away. "Write me some letters."

"I will. See you soon!"

Lawrence gives me a small smile and a wave, before quietly leaving me alone in my room once again.

I stay there for a while, curling up under my sheets like a cocoon. For just a couple minutes, I feel safe.

Lawrence really isn't so bad, is he? I mean... at least I know what he wants. My attackers won't show themselves again, not yet, and they won't tell me why they want me gone. Maybe... maybe I should just listen to them, and leave...

No. That's stupid. I squeeze my eyes shut as memories start to flood back.

I can't leave... because then I'll marry Lawrence. I don't want to be near him at all! Slowly, I sit up, letting the sheets fall off my body as the more pleasant chill of the base hits my skin. I'll find out who attacked me, and purge them from this squad! I'm meant to be here, I'm meant to be a magic knight.

Eventually, I get up to get dressed, cleaning myself off before heading to the bathroom. I splash some water on my face before looking up at my reflection. I look tired and a little stressed out... but alive.

"Hello there! Enjoy your day off?"

I'm on my way down to dinner when I run into none other than Julius. I haven't seen him all day, not since yesterday's meeting, but he's heading the same way as me now. "Ah, yeah. I haven't seen my fiance in a while, so it was nice to have lunch with him."

"Your fiance? Oh, right, Prince Lawrence." Julius nods as he falls into step next to me. I glance up at the taller man, not able to read any emotion other than his usual neutrally-happy expression. Even so, his presence puts me at ease, although I doubt anyone would attack me now while everyone is awake in the base. "Is the wedding happening soon?"

"Oh, definitely not. We haven't even started planning it!" I smirk a little. And if I have my way... it won't ever be planned!

"I see... I guess, eventually, you're going to outrank us all."

"Huh?" I look up to see him smiling teasingly down at me.

"You'll be a princess, right?"

"P-Princess?" My eyes widen as I realize that he's right. Then, I shake my head. "Ah! I don't even want to think about that..."

"Why not?"

"Too much pressure?"

"Ah, well, I think it suits you."

I look back up at him, aghast, just in time to catch his wink. "Hey! Jul- I mean, sir, that's a long way in the future-"

"Julius is fine-" He lets out a warm laugh before gesturing for me to keep up with him. "Come on... a princess can't be late for dinner."

..... AHHHHHH.

I swallow my pride and quickly catch up, pouting a bit to myself. Princess... I can't even imagine becoming royalty. And I don't want to! I'll never be a princess, not if I have anything to say about it.

Slowly, though, I feel my cheeks heat up, and it takes everything I have to keep from glancing back up at Julius's face.

Still...

It didn't sound so bad when he called me that...

#grey deer fic #fic #julius novachrono x reader #julius novachrono #black clover

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shikkearu · 4 years

Text

Part 23 : Best day of the year

She felt warm lips on her cheek and she woke up to the darkness and her husband caressing her side. - "Happy birthday, Perona." He whispered and littered her with soft kisses. She tried wrapping her arms around him, but he chuckled and got out of her grasp. -"Just a moment," he smiled and left the bed before coming back and softly putting Zoro on top off her chest. "I think he wants to congratulate you too." - "My precious little prince? Thank you Zoro." She started to unbutton her shirt. - "As usual leave everything to me. And I mean everything. No nappies or stupid things like that. Just the best he can offer for you. Today I'll bake you a cake and Moria said he would be over. You know for the-" - "I know." She smiled. "For the best day of the year."

Perona sighed.

Even if she had promised in her mind to start fully living, somehow she wasn't really feeling like starting it just yet. Making arrangements for the anniversary party was making her feel gloomy. She wasn't really feeling it even if everyone she had invited were encouraging of it.

Hancock and her family was invited too. Dragon had offered to barbecue there and Shanks had promised Mihawk he would film the thing. Shanks had a lot of memories of Mihawks son even if the two of them weren't that close. Perona felt bad she had not known earlier, she would have invited him at the wedding and the funeral, had she known, though Mihawk did say that Shanks didn't feel bad about it, but she would apologize anyway the next time she'd see him.

A year was closing in of her husbands death, but there was one thing even closer: Her own birthday.

Any other year she would have advertised it and kept noise, but not this time. She didn't want to have it at all. It just meant she was ageing while he was frozen in time. She was older than him already and now...

She felt sick just thinking about her birthday. Last year they had excitedly just spend the whole day together and celebrated as usual. She hadn't even gotten a present from him, since they had decided to save money, just in case there was going to be a rainy day. Now most of what they had saved had gone into the funeral and bills. Her balance right now would be near zero had not Mihawk stepped into the picture.

She owned him so much.

Not money, that he had made sure for her to understand, but still she felt indebted to him. He had helped her financially, provided food and shelter, been there as emotional support. Yet through it all he didn't ask for anything back. Even to be supported back, he didn't ask for, but he definitely needed it. She wanted to somehow pay him back, but it felt impossible. Even though they had celebrated his and Zoros birthdays, she wasn't giving him the same opportunity. She felt bad about that too, but no amount of feeling bad would make her want to celebrate so she kept silent.

To avoid it, she tried keeping herself busy and the birthday might just fly past. No problem at all. Maybe Mihawk might ask later if they missed it, but she hoped he wouldn't notice. Right now today was just another day of hanging around the house with Zoro, tending to his needs, doing the chores, getting a little bit of time for herself, which she honestly didn't need as she would have just thought about her past birthdays and the happiness she had had. Why had she been so big on them in the past? Big parties, lots of advertising, OH WHY!? Just the memories were making it so hard this year.

- "Mommy." Zoro snapped her out of her thoughts. - "So what's the best you can offer for me today?" She kneeled beside him as he was on his potty waiting for her to whipe. -"Poopie." He said as he lifted his bottom a bit to let her do her job. - "It smells like one, doesn't it? Smells like eww." - "Eww."

His playful mimicking made her smile as she pulled some new diapers on him and then went to clean the potty as he look from the side sucking his thumb a little. She picked him up and put him on a stool by the sink. He held his hands out while she washed them for him.

- "Humgry." He announced as she dried their hands. - "Pappa will be home soon. Is it a big hunger?"

Zoro nodded leaning out his tummy slightly moving from side to side.

-"Biiig hunger." - "You want cookies?" - "Yes." Zoro nodded and patted his tummy. - "Cookies it is."

They made their way into the kitchen and Perona gave Zoro a cookie on his plate before lifting him on his chair. From the fridge she took out a carton of milk and poured some for him in his sippy cup. She watched as Zoro ate and sipped his milk while waving his chubby legs in the air.

She felt content with this day being mundane. Even if everything else would turn badly, she would still have Zoro and she would do her best to keep him with her. He was keeping her happy and busy. She wouldn't need anyone else than him to live a joyous and fulfilling life. A lie she told herself, slowly making it reality.

She sighed a little. She wanted to see Moria at that moment, but at the same time didn't. He was always there for her birthdays, but this year she wished he wouldn't be. She dreaded the idea of Moria coming over, when she was feeling so weak. She had kept her mouth shut, hoping he'd forget in his rush. So many needed him and she played that fact to her benefit.

Today just couldn't feel like a birthday, no matter what. She wouldn't be able to deal with the guilt that joy would bring.

- "More!" Zoro demanded. - "Aren't you being a little glutton?" she laughed and went to get him another.

Normal quiet day was enough.

-----

- "I'm home." Came Mihawks calm, but strong voice. - "Welcome home." Perona greeted back.

She was in the living room with Zoro just watching him play as he would make angry noises if she tried to take part or if she didn't watch. So she kept on watching kind of getting lost to her thoughts at the process so having Mihawk back home was a welcome change. He was another welcome distraction. Trying to pass her birthday quietly was getting to her.

- "Hello!" Zoro waved before continuing playing. - "How was work?" She hummed.

There was a strange bit of silence, so she turned to look at him. She could have sworn there was a bitter sorrowful look to him. Like he was regretting something.

- "That bad?" she asked and Mihawk nodded. - "Hughf!! Mommy!" Zoro tapped Peronas lap. - "Yes, yes. I'm looking." She laughed and turned back at him.

She could hear Mihawk slump upstairs. She wondered what had happened.

Maybe... maybe he knew about her birthday?

Perona shooked her head. - "Brrrrr a doggy!" Zoro laughed and shook his head. - "Just like a doggy." she smiled feeling bit less uneasy. - "Pat pat. Pat dog." Zoro stood up and patted her head. - "Wof wof" she barked.

- "So will it be dog food for todays meal?" Mihawk was back down to ask.

Perona kept barking feeling her heart a little cold. No, today she should have... Just no.

- "Hmmm?" He cocked his head and walked up to them. "Zoro, what do you want?" He patted Peronas head. - "Cookie. Big hunger." Zoro said gleeful. - "Thats snack, not real food." Mihawk hummed. "Guess I'll just think something myself."

He was just about to go when the doorbell rang, so instead he headed for the door. Perona knew who it was and braced herself, while praying to herself that it wasn't Moria.

- "Oh Moria? What are you doing here?" Mihawk looked at the giant of a man.

Perona wanted to crawl under the sofa.

- "What am I doing here? Kishishi, you must jest." Moria snickered, but after getting a blank stare back he frowned. "It's Peronas birthday, of course I'm here."

Mihawks eyes grew wide for a second and he turned to the livingroom and walked straight up to Perona and Zoro. He stared at her and Moria got in a bit awkwardly. They didn't need to say anything, just Mihawks burning gaze to the back of her head was enough to break her.

- "I don't want to celebrate." She said meekly and hugged herself. "Not when he... I just don't."

This was enough for Mihawk to understand so he sighed and looked over at Moria.

- "I see. Then I'm just visiting my grandchild." - "Right on time, I was just asking what to make for dinner." - "Hmm, how about spaghetti?" Moria signed towards the kitchen. - "Sounds good..." Mihawk looked a little confused but nodded.

He gave Peronas head a pat and Moria picked up Zoro while they all went to the kitchen. Perona stood up and went for her room. She laid on the bed and covered her face.

It felt awful.

Why were they so understanding, when she had denied them the right to celebrate her birthday? She would have been pissed off beyond belief any other year, but right now she just felt hurt. She was hurt because they both just gave up so quick, but also thankful they did.

- "I'm an idiot." she groaned. "Stupid idiot."

She sulked there and listened to a cheerful explanation from Moria, but it got covered with Zoro going buck wild. It was not everyday dear Boo was over. Perona sighed and got up. Like Moria had said, he was just there to see his grandson, nothing more. So there was no reason to sulk like this. She walked to the kitchen and gasped feeling tears rise to her eyes. Moria was making bagels while, Zoro and Mihawk looked from the side.

- "You've got an interesting birthday tradition." Mihawk smiled to her. - "You shouldn't have-" she started to grumble, but Moria cut her short. - "Of course I did! I've done you your birthday bagel every year and I'm not going to miss it this year." He stated.

Perona just broke into tears and went to hug Moria.

- "I'm sorry, dad." she rubbed her face against him. - "It's fine. We understand why you wouldn't want to celebrate, but do you think he would have wanted you to stop, when he knows how much you love birthdays?" - "No, he wouldn't, but this year... It hurts." - "We'll just keep it small." Moria rubbed her back. "Is that ok?" - "Yeah, thank you." she looked up and smiled. - "Happy birthday, Perona."

They got to the table to give the bagels a taste. Perona cried as they tasted just as good a they had the first time she had ever eaten one.

-----

The people around Perona were beaming. The weird doctor was happy too as he was explaining things. The purple onion man was the happiest.

-"You're getting out today, isn't it grand? I got you new clothes, but we'll keep the old ones too." Onion gave her a shiny toothy grin.

She tugged her gown with pastel coloured bears on it. She looked up at him and smiled.

- "Ah not that one. The ones from before, ah never mind. You'll remember them eventually. Do you like this one?"

Onion held up a bright red dress with white collar and she jumped and squealed. Yes, she loved it. With a little help from him she was in the red gown. She jumped up and down happily. She was very happy. She grabbed onto onions out stretched hand and they started walking. Walking out of the pale room with coulourful pictures and her bed. She could see the other kids wave and she waved back. But when they were at the door, she grabbed onto it's frame and wouldn't budge. Onion looked worried.

- "Did you forget something?" - "Scary." - "Oh there's not going to be any tests today. You're getting out, remember." Onion smiled and knelt down. - "No tests?" - "No tests. We're going to walk down this aisle all the way to the doors and then we'll go outside. Outside might be scary but you've been there before so there's nothing to worry about."

Onion patted her head, and let her hold his hand again. She was happy to go. Tests were scary even if the ladies were nice. Onion was the best. Onion was safe.

- "Oh Perona, are you getting out today?" A nurse walked towards them. She nodded and the lady looked happy. - "Good, I thought I might have missed you going. Hold still, I've get you a gift."

She knelt down and slowly combed Peronas hair with her fingers. She reached into her pocket and took two red ribbons. She tied them onto her hair. Perona shook her head and laughed as two big tails swung and bounced.

They were getting nearer to the exit with every step. She had a vague idea on what to expect, but remembering things was hard. The doors slid aside and they stepped outside. It was bright and loud, overwhelming really. She grabbed onto onions leg and he laughed. Onion started taking big steps with her clutched onto his foot and she too started laughing. They made it to the car and she bounced excited as she got front seat. It was her first time inside a car.

They stopped at the yard of an old creaky house. She looked up and down excited but anxious. Together they stepped inside. She explored the house with onion and eventually they were together in the kitchen. He was making something that smelled so mouth watering. She had never ever smelled anything so good had she?

-"Here's for you, a hot bagel."

He put it in front of her and she wasted no time as she devoured it. He chuckled amused.

- "Was it good?" He asked. -"Thank you, Onion." She nodded profusely. - "Ah, no no, It's Moria remember. Not onion, Moria."

Perona laughed as he tried to make her understand. Onion was funny.

----

- "I hope you're not angry." Perona said to Mihawk as they were sitting in his study. Moria was on his way home and Zoro was sleeping downstairs.

- "I'm not." he answered and looked at his collection of wine bottles. - "You should be. We celebrated yours and Zoros, but I would have just let mine go by quietly." She said depressed. Mihawk sighed deeply and took a bottle. - "I'm not angry if you don't want to do something painful. If anything I'm only a little annoyed I couldn't get you a present." he opened it and poured some into his glass. - "Having Moria over was enough of a present." - "I think so too." he offered it to her. - "I don't want that." Perona gave him a pout. - "Amuse me." he hummed. "I want an honest opinion on the taste." - "Ugh, fine."

She took the glass and gave it a sniff before taking a good sip. She crunched up her nose.

- "I don't hate wine but this is undrinkable." she groaned. "Don't tell me you like this." - "No, I had it as a present from a person who I knew loathed me. Its been years now." - "And you haven't tasted it yet?" - "Because I knew it would taste awful." He gave her a mischievous smirk. - "Ah! I didn't deserve that you baboon." She looked at him absolutely betrayed.

Mihawk just laughed at that and left to clean the glass.

- "Hey! Aren't you going to say you're sorry!?" She followed. - "No." His answer was curt and amused.

He was happy, that her gloom hadn't gotten the better of her.

#MihawkxPerona #dracule mihawk #mihawk #perona #one piece #OP #onepiece #ミホペロ #mihopero #mirona #Irreplaceable #fanfic

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morningfears · 5 years

Text

Now

Rating: PG-13 (Gets a little smut adjacent near the end but not really)

Summary: Part two of Not Right Now | After six months of thought, it’s time to revisit the idea of having a baby.

Word Count: 3.5k

Ashton tries not to think about it.

He’s thrown himself back into yoga, practices clearing his mind and focusing on the things that are present and not what could be. He spends more time with his drums or practicing his guitar, another practice in letting go of thoughts that are not immediately connected to the present. It’s not the healthiest thing, not processing his feelings, but it’s better than wallowing in misery over something he can’t change.

As you told him months ago, now’s not really the right time.

He understands that, he really does, but he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything as much as he wants to be a father. He’s half certain it’s the baby fever (it seems as if every resident of Los Angeles has had a baby or is getting ready to, he sees babies nearly everywhere he goes) but, deep down, he knows that it’s more than that. He genuinely wants a child. He wants a baby that’s half him and half you, a cute little one that you can love and nurture and help mold into a real human person.

He wants a family to call his own.

When you told him six months ago that you wanted to have a family with him, it just wasn’t the right time, he understood. He knows that you don’t want to be alone, experiencing a life-altering change such as pregnancy in a strange city with no family or close friends that you trust to help you through it (there are, obviously, friends but he’s not sure you feel comfortable enough calling on them should you need something), and he doesn’t want to leave you alone.

He wants to experience this with you, wants to watch your bump grow and go get you pickles and ice cream or whatever else you crave at three in the morning and hold back your hair and stroke your back and encourage you as you deal with the morning sickness he knows you dread. He wants to be there, lying beside you and grinning widely as you feel the baby kick for the first time. He wants to go to the doctor’s appointments and have a ridiculous gender reveal that won’t really matter because you’re going to raise your child with the knowledge that they’re fully allowed to be whoever they are, regardless of what they’re assigned at birth.

He just wants this to be as shared an experience as it can be.

And he knows that while he’s on the road, that won’t happen. But it doesn’t mean that he’s not at least a little upset about it.

He’s more frustrated at himself than you. He’s angry that he can’t have everything he wants and he knows that it isn’t fair for him to take out his frustrations on you but that’s what he finds himself doing. He finds himself being short with you, snapping even though you’ve done nothing wrong and it pains him to see the dejected look on your face but he doesn’t want to have that conversation again. He doesn’t want to tell you what’s wrong and he doesn’t want to feel the prick of rejection (even though, rationally, he knows that you’re not rejecting him) so he avoids the topic altogether.

He figures that this will be one of those things he gets over, something that leaves his system and lets him return to normal, but it’s not. If anything, it’s gotten worse over the past few months. At first, it didn’t really make much of a difference in your relationship. He was on the road, you were busy with work. He figured it was just the usual distance that made things feel a bit odd. But with the end of tour, being back home full time, he’s having to face the facts that he’s been an asshole and has put a real strain on your relationship.

Things are different. You’re quieter, not really starting conversations just in case something you say makes him snap. You’re careful around him, almost as if you’re walking on eggshells, and that breaks his heart. He wants things to return to the way they used to be but he knows that they won’t. Not until he grows up and talks to you. But it’s so hard to do when he notices the little things.

He notices that you don’t even glance at babies anymore. You don’t mention your friends’ children or the baby he knows your brother and his wife are expecting (have already had? He isn’t sure). You don’t spare children a second glance if you go out together (which hasn’t been often at all) and you pretend that the baby aisle doesn’t exist if you both end up shopping together. You don’t mention weddings, you flip past the cheesy bridal shows you used to love, and it hurts to know that you’re doing that because he’s being irrational and impatient.

But he doesn’t say anything. He keeps it to himself, remains silent and watches you suffer from afar, until he can’t hold back.

You’re on the phone with your mother, a FaceTime call filling your screen and the sound of crying filling his ears. He frowns, unsure of what it could be, before he hears your giggles. “She’s got a set of lungs,” your mother remarks, her voice happy. “And a head full of hair. Look at that little nose, god, she’s so beautiful.”

“You’re gonna start crying again, mom,” you laugh as you stare at the newborn filling your screen. “But she is beautiful. Tell your other child that I said congratulations.”

“I wish you’d stop calling your brother that,” she laughs, even though it’s something you’ve always done. You know that she doesn’t mean it, she thinks it’d be strange to hear you call him anything else, but she has to play along. “He’s so happy,” she tells you as she switches the camera back to her face. “We all are. I didn’t think either of my children would ever give me grandchildren,” she teases though she means no harm. She never pushed you or your brother to have children and you’ll be forever grateful but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like to joke about it.

“Mm,” you sigh as you lay back on the couch and rest your head on one of the throw pillows Ashton leaves lying on the floor whenever he’s home. “He’s thirty, mom. Not that old. And I’m in my early twenties. You make it sound like we’re all ancient and should have fifteen kids by now.”

“Not fifteen,” she agrees, “maybe three or four, though.”

“Mom!”

Ashton hears your mother’s laughter and he wants to smile at this. He loves the relationship the two of you have, how open and honest you are with one another and how you can trade banter just like that. Normally, he would move into the living room to sit with you so that he could join in on the banter but now he just wants to listen because he isn’t sure where the conversation is going to go. (He also isn’t sure that he’s welcome, not with the way he’s been treating you and the way you’ve been avoiding him, but that’s something he’ll worry about later.)

“You know I’m just messing with you,” she concedes. “If you give me fifteen grands or if you give me none, I’ll still love you more than anything.” Ashton smiles at this but the next words to leave your mothers lips have him frowning. “I thought you and Ashton wanted a big family, though. Lots of little ones.”

Your hesitation makes his frown deepen further and he wants nothing more than to leave, or jump in (he isn’t quite sure), but he remains silent where he stands and continues listening.

“I don’t know what we want anymore,” you sigh as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “We talked about it, a few months ago. I thought we were on the same page. We want to get married and have kids and move to a nice house and be a family but it’s not the right time. He’s been on tour and I’m working. They just took a break, I don’t think they’re gonna take another longer one for a while, and I don’t want to do this alone. I don’t want to be grumpy and puking and tired and sore and feeling all of these new things while I’m by myself and I told him that. But things have been different since we talked about it.”

“How so?” your mother asks, and Ashton can hear the concern in her voice. He can also hear that she already has an opinion but is waiting for you to talk out your feelings before she shares.

“He doesn’t really talk to me anymore,” you inform her and your voice is so broken that Ashton feels a pang in his chest. “It’s like living with a stranger now that he’s home. I thought it was just the usual distance from tour but it wasn’t. When we do talk, he gets really short with me. He snaps at nothing and it’s just, I’m tired of walking on eggshells in my own home. I just want my boyfriend back but I feel like it’s over.”

Ashton has to grip the wall for support the moment he hears those words leave your lips. He knew that he was hurting you, he knew that you were upset and not feeling loved, but he hadn’t realized it was this bad. He hadn’t realized just how much he was hurting you. His heart pounds in his chest as he hears the telltale sniffles, the ones that let him know you’re holding back tears, and he wants to go comfort you but he’s not sure just how comforting his presence will be at the moment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” your mother sighs. “I know it’s hard. I remember when you two first got together. The first tour you called me and cried so often that I wanted to ask you to break up with him.” Ashton is surprised to hear this. You’d always been the strong one, the one to teasingly push him out the door when it came time for tour because he didn’t want to leave you, but now he realizes that it was all a front. You missed him far more than you ever let on and it hurts to know that you felt the need to keep that to yourself.

“But I’m glad the two of you stayed together. I’m so happy that you and Ashton found one another. You work so well together,” your mother compliments and Ashton knows he’s being sincere. “The way you look at one another is pure love and I would hate to see that end. I’m not telling you that now is the right time to have a baby, especially with how tough things are, but there will never be a perfect time, sweetheart. I would worry that you weren’t really ready if you weren’t thinking about the things you’ve brought up but I think those things are always going to be an issue as long as you’re with Ashton.”

You nod at this and Ashton frowns, unsure of exactly what she means. “There’s always going to be another tour, another album, another week away from home or a month or two; things are always going to be different for the two of you. But no matter how alone you feel, there are people that will be there for you. The minute you need me, I’m on a plane to California. It’ll take me a little bit of time to get there but I’ll be there as soon as I can. Ashton’s mother loves you, I’m sure she’d do the same. It’ll take her longer, too, but you need her and I know she’ll help as best as she can. You have friends with children, even if you don’t want to bother them they’ll be there for you. You’re not alone, sweetheart, and if this is something you really want then don’t let fear stop you from having a family. No matter what happens, that baby will be so loved and you will have a network of people to help you.”

Ashton smiles at this. He knows that it’s not the same as being together but anything to ease your worries, and his, makes a world of difference. You also smile at your mother’s words, thankful for her rationality and confidence in you, but before you can interject, she continues.

“But before the two of you start making babies, I want you to talk. I will call him and tell him I think he’s being an asshole, if you want,” your mother offers and Ashton knows that she’s being serious (she’s done it before). “He knows better than to be pissy with you over valid fears. I get where he’s coming from, I’m sure he wants this, but you need to talk and he needs to apologize for being an ass.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him, mom,” you laugh as you pull the throw she knitted for the two of you as a housewarming present tighter around your body. “Thank you. I love you. Can I see the baby one more time before you go?”

“You don’t love me,” she huffs, jokingly, “you’re just using me for the baby. I see how it is.” She’s quiet for a moment before she adds, “I love you, too, sweetheart. I promise, it’ll all work out.”

Ashton watches for a moment as you coo at your new niece and wipes his eyes as he waits for you to finish. The moment you hang up the phone and place it face down on the coffee table, he steps into the living room.

You’re both silent for a moment, staring at one another, before he breaks the stalemate and gestures to the couch. “Can I?” he asks, his voice quiet and unsure. He knows that he’s been a selfish jerk but he’s hoping that the two of you will be able to move past this.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest, and watch as he slips off his shoes and maneuvers onto the couch behind you. He waits for you to shift to face him, your faces only inches apart, before he smiles sadly at you. “I’m sorry for being an ass,” he begins, his beautiful eyes meeting yours for what feels like the first time in months. When that gets a smile, he continues. “I’m not just saying that because your mother wanted me to. I really am sorry. I’ve been selfish. I know that the things you’re worried about are real and that we need to talk about them together. I just heard no and shut down. But I know that it’s not a no,” he assures you. “I get it. I promise. I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you assure him as you move your hand to cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment, before he opens his eyes and turns his head to press a kiss to your palm. “I know that you felt rejected and that hurt but you can’t shut me out, Ash. You have to talk to me, especially with something like this. If we’re going to try for a family, we have to talk to each other. I have to remember that, too. We both have to try harder.”

“I know,” Ashton nods, his hand finding your waist and gently squeezing. “I really am sorry I’ve been such an ass,” he repeats. “I was so frustrated and felt like you were telling me no. I wanted everything, all at once, but life doesn’t work that way. I completely understand you being afraid to be alone during this. I don’t want to leave you. I want to experience this with you, as much as I can,” he promises. “I know that that won’t happen while I’m on the road and I hate that. I don’t want to miss seeing your bump grow or the first time the baby kicks. I don’t want to miss doctor’s appointments or shopping for baby things. I get it, I really do. I just want it all and I want it now, I guess. And I know I can’t have it.”

“How long were you listening to me and my mom?” you ask, your fingers moving to comb through his unruly curls.

“Started when the baby was crying,” he admits sheepishly, although he suspects you know.

“Then you heard her say there’s no such thing as a right time?” you ask and he nods. You’re quiet for a moment, almost hesitant, before you tell him, “I see her point. There’s always going to be another album or tour for you. There’s always going to be more work for me. We’re never going to be that couple that has a nine to five life with weekends and holidays off. And that’s okay. We’re going to have to sacrifice some experiences, you might have to miss a few things, but as long as we can work together and figure out a way to be together for the big things, maybe whenever it happens is the right time.”

Ashton blinks, surprised at your revelation, before he nods. “We’re never going to have it all,” he acknowledges, “and I think that’s the part that bothers me the most. I never wanted family to be a sacrifice for my career.”

“It won’t be,” you assure him. “We’ll make it work if you’re still in. You can use breaks to come home or I can fly out once baby’s old enough. We can compromise, not sacrifice. There’s a big difference there.”

“Do you really think that’ll work or are you just trying to give me what I want?” he asks, wanting to be sure that you’re really on the same page.

“I want to have a family with you,” you promise him. “I wasn’t lying when I told you that. And my mom was right. There’s never going to be a perfect, magical moment. Some moments might be better than others but there’s always going to be something. I really, really want to have a baby with you, Ash. You guys have some time off, if it happens soon enough then we can work our schedules around baby Irwin. But if we wait, then we wait. I’m okay with either.”

Ashton smiles at your words, his hands moving from your waist to your stomach. He slips his hand beneath your sweatshirt and places his hand flat on your stomach as he returns his eyes to yours. “Baby Irwin,” he repeats, a grin on his lips, “I love the sound of that. But are you sure you’re ready? If you need time, I’m okay with waiting. I promise. I won’t be an ass this time.”

This pulls a giggle from you and he grins. When you lean in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, he smiles a little wider. “I’m ready,” you nod. “I want this. I’m not just saying it to make you happy. I really do want to start our family. But before you get too excited, remember that I’m still on birth control. I talked to my doctor about stopping and it’s fine but also keep in mind that sometimes it takes a little while for it to happen. You can’t get this way again if I don’t get pregnant right away, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods readily, “I won’t. We’ll talk, no matter what. But it’s going to happen, I have full confidence. If it doesn’t then we’ll just keep trying until it does.”

“Don’t sound so excited about that,” you laugh as you nudge his shoulder.

“What’s not to be excited about?” he asks, his hand dropping just a little lower to trace the band of your leggings. “We’re gonna have a baby and making a baby is so fun.”

“Yeah?” you laugh. “You gonna be cliche and put on some mood music, light some candles?”

Ashton grins at this and shrugs. “If that’s what you want,” he offers readily, “I’ll go all out. But I know that’s not what you like, princess. You’re not into mood music and candles and rose petals.”

“Yeah?” you hum, grinning as you watch him dip his hands just a little lower, “What do I like?”

“I think it’d be easier to show you,” he offers as he shifts the two of you so that he’s hovering above you. “What do you say we start practicing?”

“Mm,” you hum, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair. “I like the sound of that. Practice makes perfect, after all.”

The moment the words leave your lips, Ashton dips his head and presses his lips to yours. “I love you,” he murmurs against your lips as his fingers dip beneath the hem of your sweatshirt. “Couldn’t think of anyone better to have a baby with.”

“Love you, too,” you return as you reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, “so much. Can’t think of anyone better to have a baby with.”

Author’s Note: I was going to go with smut but. It didn’t feel right. I want to do an entirely smut third part. But. We’ll see.

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