Written for the Maribat April Angst Apocalypse
A/N: The craziest part of this fic is that I actually started writing it before coronavirus became the big crisis of 2020. My fic doesn’t have anything to do with coronavirus, despite its name. However, due to the fact that I’ve been in quarantine for over half of March (and haven’t left my house for twenty days) I’ve taken some inspiration from real life events.
Quarantine is my submission for the Maribat April Angst Apocalypse (@april-angst-apocalypse) (though most of the angst is concentrated in the middle chapters, and it does have a happy ending). It’s completely written, with 20 chapters, totaling 26,000 words. I already have a posting schedule set up and everything, so you can expect regular updates from me for once.
This fic occurs pre-episodes Heart Hunter and Miracle Queen, so Chloé still has redemption-arc potential and the identities of Rena Rouge, Carapace, Viperion, and Ryuko haven’t been revealed to Hawkmoth.
If you want to be added to the Quarantine taglist, send me an ask, a message, or just comment on this post.
[Sunday October 18]
The Quarantine started at midnight on the third Sunday in October. There wasn’t any warning, no emergency broadcasts or press conferences to get the word out. One moment Paris functioned as just another city in France. A moment later, a force field surrounded Paris, stopping all movement in and out of the city. There was chaos on the border for hours, as people desperately tried to get in and out of Paris. But it was no use - the force field was impenetrable. Before the sun rose that day, the force field had already gotten its name: The Wall.
Marinette woke up that morning with a phone full of news alerts. She learned about The Wall in bits and pieces. All across the news were accounts of the chaos at the border, but not the full story as to how it got there or how long it would be staying. Just like every other resident of Paris, Marinette didn’t yet have the full story. Unlike her fellow Parisians, however, Marinette needed the full story. Marinette was Ladybug, defender of Paris. The Wall threatened her city, and she couldn’t let that be.
At noon, the Justice League sent out an announcement to the people of Paris. Their city had been put under quarantine in order to prevent Hawkmoth’s destruction from spreading. Mayor Bourgeoise, their democratically elected mayor, was being replaced by a Council chosen by the Justice League. Free will and civil liberties were being put on hold so that the Justice League could decide the fate of Paris.
There was an immediate outcry, but protest was futile against the Justice League. They had too much power, too much authority for any single citizen to change their minds. There had always been speculation over the potential for Justice League intervention in Paris - especially since Hawkmoth’s akumas had been growing in strength over the past few years. However, it had always been assumed that the Justice League would be helping alongside Ladybug and Chat Noir. Instead, the Justice League ignored Paris’s superheroes entirely.
Ladybug and Chat Noir attempted to make contact with the Justice League. They approached the Paris Council, demanding a say in the fate of Paris. Finally, that afternoon, they were brought in front of the Paris Council to plead their case.
“Chat Noir and I have worked hard to protect Paris from Hawkmoth for almost four years. While the situation is not perfect, Paris is still thriving, despite everything working against it.” Cameras flashed as reporters took photos and videos of Ladybug’s speech. Marinette simply kept her head high. After three years as Ladybug, she was used to having her picture taken. “What the Justice League has done to Paris is wrong. We demand that you take down The Wall.”
“Ladybug. Chat Noir.” A massive television screen turned on, revealing the face of Batman, head of the Justice League. “While the Justice League appreciates your input into the situation, your arguments do not change the reality of Paris’s situation. The last akuma, Exterminator, caused too much damage for the Justice League to ignore. Hawkmoth is a dangerous supervillain, and the two of you have been powerless to stop his attacks. The Paris Quarantine will not be broken until Hawkmoth is neutralized and behind bars.”
“This is an injustice,” protested Ladybug. “The people of Paris deserve their freedom.”
“The decision has already been made. The Justice League expects both of you to be respectful of the wishes of the Council. You may continue your futile fight against Hawkmoth’s akumas, but know that the Justice League will be working tirelessly to take down the real threat - Hawkmoth himself. Your assistance is no longer needed.”
The screen turned off. Ladybug stood there in shocked silence, waiting for it to turn back on. She didn’t expect the fight to be easy, but she thought that she would at least be able to negotiate with the Justice League. She didn’t expect her arguments to be shut down entirely.
“Ladybug, can we ask you a few questions?” a reporter called out from the back of the room.
“We won’t be taking questions today,” replied Chat Noir. He gently took Ladybug by the elbow and started to guide her out of the room. “Just know that no matter what, Ladybug and I will always be fighting for Paris’s best interest.”
Ladybug joined Chat on a half-hearted patrol. They made their way through the city in silence, both trying to wrap their heads around the gravity of the situation. This was an opponent they couldn’t fight with Lucky Charm and Cataclysm. Ladybug wasn’t knowledgeable in the intricacies of politics; she didn’t know what petitions or protests would be necessary to get through to the Justice League.
Marinette returned home that night, feeling nothing but anger. She paced around her room, clenching and unclenching her fists. There was a storm raging inside her head. The Justice League was holding her city hostage, and there was nothing Ladybug could do about. Marinette knew that the Quarantine was unjust. How could Batman do that to her city?
“Marinette, calm down.” Tikki rested one hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “You have to stay positive. Too much anger could attract an akuma.”
“Sorry, Tikki.” Marinette sighed. She stopped pacing and sat down in front of her desk. A half-finished dress sat in front of her, waiting to be finished, but Marinette didn’t have the motivation to pick it up again. She considered texting Damian for support, but Marinette was so exhausted that she didn’t think she could make it through a whole conversation. “I think I’ll go to bed early tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow will be a better day.”
Marinette got ready for bed in a daze, feeling weary. She could already anticipate the nightmares that would follow her into sleep. It never mattered how much sleep she got - Marinette always woke up feeling like a failure, feeling like her world was ending. There was only one way for her life to get better, and that was for Paris to be free from Hawkmoth. Unfortunately, there was no solution in sight. Marinette didn’t sleep well that night, but it was no surprise to her.
Just a little comic cover to a FNAF comic I may or may not do…..
July 17, 1917
Imelda carefully removed the stems and seeds from the peppers sitting in front of her in a bowl. Josefina sits across from her; peeling leaves from radishes.
“Mija will you go get water from the well?” Josefina asks.
“Of course.” Imelda replies, placing the seedless and stemless poblano pepper on the table. The young woman stands from the table and grabs the two water jugs by the door as she leaves the kitchen. She smiles as she sees a familiar lanky figure standing at the well.
“Buenas tardes Héctor.” She greets politely, attempting to suppress the grin threatening to form on her lips.
“Hola, ‘Melda.” He responds, not holding back his grin. Imelda feels a blush across her chest at his informality, something they never dropped when they were around her parents.
“Would you help me with the water?” Imelda asks, attempting to get him to stay longer.
“Ah-ha. About that, I really can’t.” The young man responds, Imelda raises an eyebrow at him. “Your brothers hit me over the shoulders the rank handle today.”
“Which one? How?” Imelda demands
“I-I don’t know.”
“That’s fair, they were basically the same person. Esas pequeñas.” Imelda curses, Héctor tsks and shakes his head at her.
“Your mamá should wash your mouth out with soap.”
“She’s tried. It didn’t work.” Imelda smiles up at him as she casts the bucket into the well.
“Of course, she did.” Héctor chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans against the well to watch Imelda pull up the water. The young woman transfers the water into one of the water jugs.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?” Imelda asks, casting the bucket back into the well.
“Nah, your papá told me to take a break while he dealt with the twins.”
“Because they hit you with a rake?”
“Well…yes. But also because one of then hit me in the shin with a hoe and the other hit me with a rock.
“Please tell me your kidding.” Imelda sighs, resting the bucket on the edge of the well.
“…Sí. I am…kidding.”
“No mientas Héctor.”
“Okay, yeah they did.”
“Esos hijos de puta!” Imelda yells. Héctor laughs at her cursing, stepping away from the well as Imelda fills the second jug.
“I’m going to go back to work before you get me into trouble.” He teases as Imelda straightens up. Héctor quickly looks around them before pressing a chaste kiss to Imelda’s cheek.
“I’ll see you tomorrow mi amor.” He winks before wandering back to the fields. Imelda smirks as she watches him walk away. She picks up the two water jugs and goes back into the house. Josefina sits at the table, glaring at her daughter. Imelda’s heart rate picks up; did she see the kiss?
“You really shouldn’t swear around men. It’s very un-ladylike.” Josefina simply says, going back to her task. Imelda sighs in relief, placing the jugs down by the door.
Imelda walks over to the stove, lifting the pot lid to make sure the tomatoes, peppers, onion and garlic were cooking well; as well to check on pumpkin seeds were roasting. She removes the seeds from the stove as they turned golden, placing them in a small bowl next to the stove. She adds the sesame seeds into the same pan and quickly covers the cooking vessel, to avoid the seeds from jumping.
Imelda looks over to see her mother blending up the poblano peppers and the cilantro at the table. She removes the sesame seeds from the heat and puts them into the same bowl as the pumpkin seeds.
“Mija, the onions should be ready by now.” Josefina announces. Imelda nods, placing the bowls with the seeds on to the table near her mother. She goes back to the stove and takes the pot off of the heat.
Imelda places the clay casserole dish on the stove and adds oil to the vessel. Imelda grabs a water jug while she waits for the oil to heat and pours some water into a basin in order to prepare for dishwashing.
Josefina’s knee had been bothering her all day, nearly making the middle-aged women unable to walk. So, Imelda was taking on most of the heavy work for that day.
Imelda grabs the blended poblano peppers from her mother and adds the mixture to the casserole dish while Josefina blends the seeds, lettuce, and cilantro. With much difficulty, she stands, walking over to her daughter with the new mixture. She hands Imelda the bowl with the mixture, who then adds it to the casserole dish.
Imelda stirs the mixture and tastes it to see if it needs more salt. This mole verde was her favourite dish as a small child and even as an adult it was one of her favourites. It was also one of the first dishes she learned to cook as a pre-teen. She adds more salt, as she often has in the past. When the dish begins to boil Imelda grabs the pot sitting on the counter, which held the chicken they had cooked slightly earlier in the afternoon.
She walks away from the dish to let it come to a boil, sitting at the table with her mamá.
“So, I heard an interesting conversation with Señora Ortiz today.” Josefina says, placing the radishes in a bowl for tomorrow’s supper.
“Did you?” Imelda asks, putting away the remaining seeds.
“Yes, apparently Joaquín is no longer engaged.”
“How horrible. I hope they parted on good terms.” Imelda responds dryly.
“It’s fine. Apparently, she wasn’t willing to leave the city and of course, he’s set to inherit his father’s business.”
“Mamá, que estas diciendo?”
“Nada. I just thought it would be good for you to know when he returns.” Josefina shrugs. Imelda sighs, her mother had never been one for subtly.
“Se lo que estas haciendo.” Imelda raises an eyebrow at her.
“No estoy haciendo nada. It’s just….”
“It’s just what?”
“Well…you’re going to be 18 this October mija.”
“And? What does that have to do with anything?” Imelda questions as she stands up to check on the chicken. Seeing it was near to the point on boiling she places the pot which held the red rice onto the stove to re-heat it.
“I know all your amigas were married young, starting with Lucia’s well predicament at the time and of course that dreadful Carmen couldn’t let Lucia be the only one to marry.” Josefina says, Imelda chuckles at her comment; she always knew her mamá didn’t like Carmen, neither really did Imelda if she had to be honest.
Josefina was right though, if Carmen had her way, she would’ve been the first to marry and have children; but instead shy Lucia had beaten her to both. Nearly 2 months after Lucia married Francisco, Carmen was engaged to a man she hardly knew and was married 4 months later. Margarita always was quick to do whatever Carmen did and married Pablo 6 months after Carmen’s marriage. Both Gloria and Imelda didn’t care about marriage or children until Gloria’s engagement over a year ago.
Of course, it had changed for Imelda as well.
“I think it’s time for you to find a serious suitor. Your aunts agree, your Tia Yolanda still has everything from Carla’s wedding.” Josefina sighs at Imelda’s disinterest. “Joaquín would make a good match for you. He’s a capable young man.”
“Capable? Is that all?”
“Well I’m sure he has other good qualities; I don’t know him well. His mamá is a pleasant enough woman and his papá is a hard worker, no doubt he has the same quality and would provide for you are your children.” Josefina says, Imelda cringes when the older woman discusses children.
“Mamá I’m not marrying Joaquín.” Imelda says, turning away from the stove.
“Lo sé… I’m just saying it’s time to consider suitors.” Josefina says. “a serious one.” Imelda turns away from her mamá in order to hide the blush spreading across her face, she chews her lips trying to decide if Josefina knew about Héctor and her. No, she couldn’t possibly know, Héctor and her were always so careful and she’d be much madder. Imelda couldn’t even imagine how Josefina would react once she learned what they had done together…multiple times now. No Josefina could never know that Imelda had given up her “virtue” to Héctor Rivera.
She takes the mole verde off of the stove as it comes to a boil, taking the rice off of the stove as well. Josefina stands from the table, grabbing serving dishes from the cupboard as she comes to stand next to her daughter. Imelda serves the rice onto the clay serving platter her mamá was holding out to her.
“I’ll put everything on the table. Go get the boys. I expect that Arturo, Mateo and Héctor will be staying for supper.” Josefina says, placing down the serving dish on the counter as she takes over Imelda’s spot. The younger woman wipes her hands on her apron, nodding at Josefina’s request.
As Imelda leaves the house, she hears laughter coming from the barn; which was obviously the men. She walks over to the large structure, pushing open the cumbersome doors to find her papá, Arturo, Mateo and Héctor sitting on the ground, sharing a bottle of tequila between the four of them while Oscar and Felipe were back in the corner, no doubt tinkering with one of the inventions. Imelda puts her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow at the men.
“Parce que hemos sido.” Raúl chuckles at the sight of his daughter.
“Imelda!” Arturo calls. “Come have a drink with us.”
“I think not.” Imelda retorts. “Supper is ready.”
“Gracias a Dios, que me muero de hambre.” Mateo exclaims as he struggles to pick himself up from a haybale. Imelda takes notices of where Raúl hides the bottle of alcohol, a rather poor spot between the stables and the doors.
“Don’t tell your mamá.” Raúl says, squeezing her shoulder as he follows Arturo and Mateo. Imelda keeps in mind her brothers’ presence as Héctor lingers.
“I should go.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Solo quédate. I think Ernesto could manage without you for one evening.” She jokes. the young man chuckles at that, nodding in agreement
“He probably could.”
“Then it’s settled, you’ll stay for dinner. You can head back into town with Mateo and Arturo.” Imelda says, subtly brushing his fingers with hers. Héctor smiles at her and nods in agreement. She watches him leave the barn for supper with a smile. She grabs the twins by their shirts as they try to make their way past her. She spins their bodies around and blocks their way to the door.
“What do you two know?” Imelda narrows her eyes, her hands going to her hips again. The twins share a look between the two of them before looking back to their elder sister.
“Know what?” Felipe questions back, Oscar nodding in agreement.
“Escucha ustedes pequeñas mierdas.” Imelda bends over, shoving a finger in their faces. “I will tell mamá that you two have been skipping school for weeks now.”
“Well then we’ll tell mamá you’ve been seeing Héctor behind her back!” Oscar exclaims, flustered from Imelda’s confrontation. She straightens up, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Dios, ustedes dos son idiotas.” She sighs. “Okay, stop hitting Héctor with assorted items. Mamá and papá cannot know about him, so keep your mouths shut and mamá won’t know about your school records.”
“Deal.” Both the twins’ nod in agreement. Imelda nods in response, stepping aside to allowing the two of them to leave the barn. She follows after them, closing the doors behind her. She walks into the house and goes to the dining room, once again suppressing her smile as she sees Héctor sitting next to her usual spot.
“There she is. Raúl would you lead us in prayer.”
As everyone around the table closes their eyes and folds their hands, Héctor grabs Imelda’s hand under the table. This had become a common occurrence between the young couple during prayer. Imelda never considered herself to be particularly a religious woman, so she didn’t care if this was frowned upon.
The quickly unlock hands as a chorus of “Amens” echoes throughout the table. Imelda stares at Héctor from her peripheral, lightly brushing her index finger against his knuckles.
Neither of them noticing the way Josefina was staring at them from the other end of the table.
idk who needs to hear this but making me scroll ten minutes through your fanfic instead of putting it under a “read more” will not, in fact, make me want to read it but will, in fact, guarantee i never want to read anything you write Ever
LAST LINE / WANT
It’s not from a wip, but here’s the ending of the last project I finished.
The moment Charlotte left, Ted was screaming into the pillow that they’d shared. If he could start the night over-but he couldn’t change anything, because he was in fucking love with Charlotte and he meant nothing to her and he was fucking stranded at some shitty motel in the middle of the goddamn night covered in the memories of what their bodies had done together.
Charlotte didn’t start the car right away. She sat, pressing her head against the steering wheel, tears streaming down her face, breath so ragged she thought she might die.
In a few minutes, she would clean herself up and go home to Sam. But for now she would replay the night in her mind. She would pretend that Ted had told her that he loved her and it had changed things, because her head hurt and her hands shook for want of it.
Me: Rereading my half written chapter of fanfiction so I can finish it
*It cuts off abruptly *
Me: What bitch didn’t finish this? How rude.
New chapter of chaos? in this group chat? it’s more likely than you think up now!
Twenty-plus students, many tired teachers, one group chat and a whole load of chaos. What could possibly happen here?
Check out my other works here 😁
Pffft… wait wait wait, this dumbfuck decided to leave their “constructive criticism” because the AUTHOR’S NOTE of my Bagginshield fic is TOO MARY SUE?!!!
IN AN AUTHOR’S NOTE?!!! Not the fic itself, but THE ACTUAL FUCKING NOTE?!!!
I deleted the comment. I need less garbage in my life.
A/N: This is so funny to me because I relate so heavy no lie.
- Okay, so basically
- You fall asleep on the couch, waiting for Joong to get home so you could go to dinner together
- At some point during your little nap, you fall off of the couch and onto the floor
- The only real problem with this is that you are right underneath the lamp
- So, the only logical solution to this new problem is to roll under the coffee table
- Which you do, and then just fall asleep again, no biggie
- When Joongie finally gets home he calls for you like always
- Totally expects you to come running, excited for dinner
- But, alas, you do not
- So, he spends about an hour looking for you all over the place
- Kinda starting to freak out
- Ends up standing in the living room and pounding your number into his phone
- After the first ring, he hears your phone going off in the same room
- and then a very loud thud followed by some less than polite vocabulary
- He looks down at you, wiggling your way out from underneath the table and stretching for your phone
- You notice him, and it’s kinda awkward for a second
- you kind of feel like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t be
- Then Hongjoong is laughing
- like full falling over in tears laughter
- Like how dare you judge me for sleeping where I am safe from the light
- After he finds his composure, he just tells you to get up so you can get food
- And you do, and he doesn’t mention it again
- Not in words anyway
- But if ever he can’t find you, he always checks under the coffee table first
- Okay so Seonghwa was gonna be home in about 2 minutes based on his text
- So, you decide to try and scare him
- Knowing he typically goes to the kitchen first, you situate yourself in a cupboard
- There’s literally a pan handle up your ass, but it’s worth it for the prank
- Seonghwa’s 2 minutes quickly turn into a half hour
- You’ve fallen asleep by then since you had been sitting still for too long
- When your boyfriend finally gets home, he’s already shouting apologies into the front hall
- “THERE WAS SO MUCH TRAFFIC”
- just his excuse to complain no lie
- As predicted, he goes straight into the kitchen, still ranting about his day
- fully expects you to join him at some point
- Did not expect that you would be crawling out from the cabinet though
- You heard him yelling once he got into the kitchen and you were like “I guess it’s too late now”
- You push the cupboard door open… straight into his shins
- “AH OW WTF”
- he jumps about 10 feet
- so I guess the prank kind of worked??
- “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”
- you just kinda shrug, still a little groggy and sore from being in such a weird position
- “were you asleep?”
- you nod and yawn and then all of a sudden he’s soft
- Scoops you up and plops you on the couch for cuddles
- Will definitely make you answer his burning questions later but he’s feeling all snuggly now so it can wait
(Barefaced Yunho im in tears)
- When Yunho comes home after work, having stopped and picked up ice cream because he felt he deserved it (AND HE DOES)
- Struts around the house with the ice cream balanced on one hand
- Hoping to find you and make you laugh
- Cannot. Find. You. Arm. Getting. Tired.
- Finally puts his arm down, totally defeated
- Wanders through the different rooms before he catches a glimpse of your socked foot peeking out from behind the couch
- Leans over and sees you fully tucked in, blankets and pillows everywhere
- Knocked OUT
- He gingerly steps over the couch… jk he tripped
- Falls on you
- You scream because 1) scary 2) ow
- He’s stuttering apologies but also laughing his booty off
- Asks what you are doing back there in the first place
- “wanted to make a fort but got sleepy”
- “FORT FORT FORT”
- demands that you get up and help him finish making it
- “I’LL GET THE SNACKS”
- eventually, he returns with basically the entire fridge
- then you set up a movie and snack together and its so cute but then you both end up passing out anyway because the fort is just the comfiest
- ok one thing I will say about Yeosang is I feel like he can pretty much fall asleep anywhere too so he’s not gonna judge you
- how you ended up falling asleep on the bathroom counter may remain a mystery forever
- you vaguely remember climbing up on it to get a better look at a zit or some other blemish you wanted to get rid of, but after that who knows
- Yeosang rushes into the house after work
- literally screaming that he’s gonna pee his pants
- Runs into the bathroom and slams the door
- Scares you and you almost slip off the counter and onto the tile floor
- “GET OUT I NEED TO PEE”
- you’re barely awake and he’s screaming at you
- so confusing but you just kind of waddle out the door and fall into bed
- you wait for him to finish and he comes out with a smile
- “I’m better now”
- “you woke me up you dramatic idiot”
- “what do you mean? I didn’t wake you up, you were in the bathr- OHhhh”
- You just kinda pout at him and he comes and sits next to you
- strokes your hair for a little bit
- You’re almost asleep and he can tell
- “LETS EAT”
- “KANG YEOSANG I SWEAR TO GOD”
- and then you’re chasing him around
- he is fearing for his absolute life
- like he’s gonna suffer the wrath of a thousand suns for waking you up twice
- boy better PRAY
- In the morning, San had woken you up and coaxed you out of bed with the promise of coffee
- he did not tell you that he did not yet go and get the coffee
- So, when he skips out the door to pick up your drinks, you literally just drop to the floor in front of the welcome mat
- Like I’m sleeping and I don’t care where I just need it
- And it was actually a pretty good morning nap until San almost knocks your nose off your face when he swings the door open
- At first, he’s kinda worried like… “you good”
- And you just scold him for almost killing you with the door
- “Not my fault you chose to sleep on the floor. I got your coffee”
- Thrusts it into your face
- the only thing more bitter than your face is the drink
- “you almost killed your sweet sweet baby aren’t you sorry?”
- “it’s you’re fault in the first place”
- and I mean he’s kinda right but he’s the reason you’re tired
- waking you up early with lies… coffee wasn’t even ready yet
- so you have a good natured squabble about your sleeping habits and San’s door-opening habits before coming to an agreement
- You can only sleep in front of the door when he’s already home
- And he can swing the door open with as much dramatic flare as he wants… as long as he can see you are clearly not within range
- a perfect compromise imo
- Mingi is such a dork okay
- when he finds you curled up in front of the oven he starts laughing really loud
- shakes you awake because he just has to know what you think you’re doing
- You explain, patiently, that you are waiting for your brownies to finish, and that the oven is really warm
- Mingi will just nod in agreement and be like “of course, of course. you’re so smart, jagiya”
- Gets up and leaves you there for a minute but then returns
- He has more pillows and an extra blanket
- He also brought your laptop so you could watch a movie
- He pulls you into his lap after he sits himself on top of some pillows
- Covers both of you in the blankets and then makes you hold the computer on your lap
- You fall asleep again within 10 minutes, and although he’s getting sleepy he’s like
- Someone has to make sure the house doesn’t burn down
- Mingi should not be in charge of this and we all know it
- But what can he do?
- So he watches the movie for a while before the timer on the oven finally goes off
- You snap awake so quickly that Mingi jumps a little
- “MY BROWNIES ARE DONE”
- and then you eat brownies and cuddle some more
- But Mingi is not allowed to have as many brownies as you because you did all the work in the first place so TAKE THAT
- When Wooyoung gets out of the shower after a long day and finds you… not in bed where you should be
- He pouts…like a lot
- Wanders around for a while
- Almost gives up when he catches a glimpse of the hoodie (his hoodie) that you’re wearing
- Opens the closet door…was kinda scared not gonna lie lmao
- Then he’s LOUD
- laughing at you like a crazy person
- Screaming at you through his laughter
- “WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARENT YOU IN BED? HOW ARE YOU SLEEPING HERE?”
- “WOOYOUNG TAKE IT DOWN LIKE 18 OCTAVES, KID”
- whispers, “sorry”
- asks you again what you were doing
- you just kind of look at him because, to be honest, you don’t really know either
- just experimenting with some new bedding, I s’pose
- He drags you out of the closet by your heels and forces you into bed where he cuddles you close
- you can still feel his chest vibrating from all of the giggling
- He never gets over this
- every time he finds you sleeping in a new spot, he’s like “FIRST THE CLOSET NOW THIS”
- Jongho gets protective when he finds you sleeping in weird places
- He doesn’t want you to wake up stiff from being in awkward positions and everything
- So when he finds you dead asleep on top of the kitchen table, he is less than surprised
- Like he knows you’re a whole ass meal but seriously?
- But also lifts you and walks you over to the couch
- Sets you down and then just stares at you like a creeper until you wake up
- When you do, he’s scolding you straight away
- “You’ll hurt your back”
- “what if we fell”
- “MY GOD WE EAT THERE”
- And then you’re laughing because even he knows he’s being dramatic and he always is when you do things like this
- “thank you for moving me to the couch, Jongho”
- he huffs but he’s like “you’re welcome”
- Always tries to make you promise not to sleep in such strange places anymore
- “What you do in practice, you’ll do in the game”
- “What does that even mean”
- “One day we will go out to dinner and then you’ll probably just get on the table and sleep or something”
- So dramatic, but he really loves you and everything he says is just out of worry
- But every time he scolds you, you both end up laughing at each other
- And he secretly has a folder on his phone titled “where is y/n sleeping today?”
Siempre a resultado curioso para el ser humano como el tiempo es el que define la vida. No importa si eres pobre o rico, feo o hermoso, triste o feliz, malo o bueno, todo eso tendrá un fin, y el tiempo es el que decide ese final. Por eso no existe medida más importante que la del tiempo, y este siempre va a ser cruel para todos y cada uno sin importar nada.
La vida es un conjunto de horas, minutos y segundos en las que estamos en este mundo al que algunos ignorantes siguen creyendo plano.
Pero son los momentos más importantes los que se definen en segundos. En un segundo la vida de alguien puede cambiar hasta un punto irreconocible. En un segundo la vida empieza con nuestro primer respiro fuera del vientre materno, en un segundo la mujer que amas puede o no aceptar pasar el resto de su vida contigo, en un segundo ese condon puede romperse, en un segundo puedes saber si conseguiste ese trabajo por el que has soñado y trabajado toda tu vida.
Y en un segundo la vida acababa.
Era una noche como cualquier otra en Mystic Fall’s. Ronnie se había quedado hasta tarde acomodando los libros en la librería como tantas otras veces. El señor Chunks estaba recostado y completamente dormido sobre su silla tras el mostrador. Los ronquidos del corpulento hombre resonaban por cada rincón de la tienda, la cabeza le colgaba hacia atras y su boca estaba tan abierta que estaba segura que desde su posición lograría atinarle una bola de papel en la garganta.
Los pesados libros de botánica que la señora Chunks había insistido tanto en tener a disposición para los -inexistentes- fanáticos de las plantas, habían llegado esa misma tarde y Ronnie llevaba horas re acomodando estanterías para hacer el espacios digno de tales obras literarias. Estaba agotada, pero sabia que el panzón de su jefe no la dejaría ir sin antes acabar.
Una colección de 32 libros sobre plantas estaban ahora expuestos en la estantería principal con cara a la entrada del local, luego de haber removido todos libros de novelas juveniles que no hacían más que desperdiciar papel y podrir las mentes de los adolescentes ignorantes, según decía el matrimonio Chunks. No era noticia para nadie en el pueblo el odio y repulsión que el matrimonio sentía por los niños y la juventud en general, y eso en definitiva no la excluía a ella.
El matrimonio no disimulaba ni un poco el desprecio que le tenían a la joven Gilbert, pero a ella siempre le resbalaban sus comentarios y maltratos explotadores. Aunque habían veces que le llegaban a hostigar, trabajar rodeada de libros lo compensaba todo. Además, que eran pocas las veces en que ellos permanecían en el local, pues eran pocas las ocasiones que se quedaban más de una hora para cerciorarse que todo marchara “bien”. Exceptuando las veces, como esa noche, en las que el señor Chunks venia a ocultarse de su esposa.
Ya eran más de las nueve y media, tendría que haber salido hace dos horas. Camina a la parte trasera de la tienda y busca en el pequeño armario sus cosas. Los pies están matándola y solo puede pensar en el largo y relajante baño que le espera en casa.
Da un último vistazo alrededor de la librería asegurándose que no haya algo que el señor Chunks pueda usar para reprenderla y descontarle del sueldo, he inevitablemente sus ojos se posan en la bola de grasa roncadora tras el mostrador. Se acerca a él sigilosa, una mueca de asco se forma en su cara al ver el camino de baba que cae por el borde de su boca. Sin más opción, toma un lápiz del mostrador y con su punta pincha la mejilla del hombre en su intento por despertarlo.
-Sr. Chunks… hey, ya me voy -informó mientras seguía pinchándolo. El hombre se removió sobre su asiento haciendo que este crujiera, golpeteo el aire con sus manos como alejando mosquitos deteniendo el picoteo de la adolescente.
Sin más remedio, al ver que no iba a lograr despertarlo, y si lo hacía probablemente la despediría por eso, Ronnie se encogió de hombros y se fue apagando las luces y dejando la tienda en total oscuridad.
Al salir por la puerta el frío de la noche la recibió erizándole la piel. Tomó una fuerte inhalación disfrutando un poco del aire fresco sintiéndose al fin libre de una larga jornada… al menos por esa noche.
Se armó con su casco y con la mochila al hombro, lista para deslizarse por las calles del pueblo hasta su hogar cuando un claxon llamó su atención. Un auto estaba detenido en la vereda contraria a ella y la ventanilla del conductor estaba siendo bajada.
-¿Quieres un aventón? -preguntó un hombre alrededor de los 40, castaño y con una amable y juguetona expresión.
Ronnie sonrío y con su pie levantó la patineta del suelo, se cruzó la calle hasta el auto y entro en él.
-¿Qué hacen aquí? -preguntó curiosa, ala vez que el auto emprende la marcha.
-Elena nos pidió que la recogiéramos -le informó su madre desde el asiento de copiloto -Ella no se sentía cómoda en la fiesta.
Ronnie volteó los ojos fastidiada. Sabía exactamente el motivo verdadero de la incomodidad de su hermana mayor, y eso le molestaba.
-Si tantas dudas tiene debería dejarlo, en vez de seguir dandole falsas esperanzas -apuntó fastidiada- Matt no lo merece.
-Cariño, entiende a tu hermana. Es su primer novio, alguien a quien conoce de toda la vida. Es válido que sienta dudas, no quiere lastimarlo -defendió su padre mientras Miranda asentía de acuerdo a su marido.
-Pues entre más espera, más lo va a lastimar cuando por fin se decida -gruñó entre dientes. Ninguno de sus padres contestó y la conversación terminó ahí -¿Al menos iremos por algo de cenar? Estoy muriendo de hambre.
-Si, tu hermano nos espera en el Grill -contestó la mujer.
A Ronnie le brillaron los ojos y comenzó a relatarle a sus padres todo lo que deseaba comer. El matrimonio Gilbert escuchaba divertidos el entusiasmo de su hija por la comida, uno muy parecido al que su hijo mostró cuando le informaron que irían a comer. Sin duda alguna ambos mellizos eran como dos gotas de agua.
La puerta se abrió del lado contrario al que estaba Ronnie, dejando ver la larga cabellera chocolatada de su hermana adentrarse en el auto. Entró sin decir una palabra y se quedó con una torturada expresión viendo por la ventana. Ronnie apretó los labios en una linea absteniéndose a decir algo, pues sus padres le advirtieron antes de llegar que Elena no tomaría de buena manera sus comentarios.
Así pasaron unos minutos en silencio hasta que la misma Elena fue quien lo rompió, al comenzar a despotricar todas sus quejas mientras su madre y padre la aconsejaban. Ronnie bufó y se limitó a mirar por la ventana con su concentración puesta en la música que resonaba de sus cascos.
Comenzó a cabecear contra la ventana por lo cansada que estaba, estaba apunto de quedarse dormida cuando un abrupto movimiento del auto la sobresaltó. Todo fue un caos a partir de ahí. El auto se salió de control deslizándose de forma violenta sobre el pavimento. Su padre trataba de hacer hasta lo imposible por controlarlo, pero cuando el auto chocó contra el barandal del puente todo lucha quedó perdida.
Fueron un par de segundos tal vez, en los que auto de sus padres pasó de estar en el puente a estar hundiéndose en el río.
Para Ronnie, el miedo actuó como paralizante. No se movía ni decía nada, solo se limitó a observar como todo se acaba en cámara lenta. Sentía el agua en sus pies ascender más con cada segundo y el agua que se filtraba de las ventanas cada vez en mayor cantidad aceleraba el proceso. Su vista se fue adelante donde su madre yacía inconsistente y no pudo evitar sentir envidia de ella. Luego pasó a Elena que lloraba y gritaba, despertada por soltar su cinturón el cual no cedía.
El agua ahora le llegaba a la cintura y el bombeo errático de su corazón era lo único que escuchaba. Su cabeza dolía y sentía un líquido espeso bajar por su sien. Pero esa sensación no duró mucho, al ser cubierta por la helada agua.
Todo había quedado en silencio cuando el agua terminó de cubrir cada centímetro del auto. Ronnie seguía sin mover un músculo en un inútil intento por conservar utilidad de oxígeno. Sus ojos eran los únicos que yacían abiertos y activos. Ellos se dirigieron al retrovisor donde se encontró con la mirada triste de su padre.
A sabiendas que probablemente seria su última oportunidad, consiguió débilmente mover sus labios para decirlo por última vez: “te amo, papá”.
Sus ojos pesaron y cedió un momento a la oscuridad con un único pensamiento: Voy a morir.
I don’t know what to say. Just that it all started with this pair. I never even watched Pokémon past its first season, but I still stumbled upon the best fiction I’ve ever read because of it (which was published 6 years ago). Still my absolute favorite fanfic and, to this day, still remains unfinished. Wanting to visualize what I was reading pushed me to start doodling. Here I am now, paying a little tribute to the story (Heroes Grace) and its main characters. I’m currently re-reading all 55 chapters, which isn’t much, until you realize the chapters have chapters (do those even have names??). Anyways, this is Paul and Dawn, the most dynamic duo I’ve ever read of.
Heroes Grace is the most incredible thing I’ve ever read. Its character analysis and development blows my mind every time I read it. I have no more words to explain it. It’s mainly Ikarishipping but honestly it has all the main ships on there for just as much. That is all, thank you for reading.
Trezo (III) [walks into room]: Sorry I was late, I was… taking care of something
Antonia (Joey) [enters the room, noticeably disheveled]: HE PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS