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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“sorry to bother you”

Summary: Y/N meets Harry in a little shop in France. It was a lovely meeting between the fan and the rockstar, but when Y/N realizes she’s lost her phone, will she see Harry sooner than she had ever thought possible?

AKA Harry meets a fan and accidentally steals her phone

vibes bc they snack and she walks up to him while he’s looking at the sky lol ^

Ok so I just wanted to preface this: this was initially just going to be a short blurb about a respectful meeting between Harry and a fan because of the terrible stories I’ve been hearing lately about rude people being inconsiderate of Harry and his privacy and I wanted to showcase that you can treat Harry as a human being rather than an object when you see him irl. But then my writer brain wanted more and so it turned into more. All I have to say is if you ever meet Harry in real life, please be respectful and kind. Also there is a 0.00001 chance that this would ever actually happen as most fiction goes so please don’t expect more than a short convo and maybe a photo from him. For him to even speak with you is more than enough, he really isn’t a disneyland attraction.

Also not proofread bc apparently its long lol, I’m not super in love with this but I think it’s good-ish the end is meh - pls lemme know what yall think :)

Word Count: 10.2k (wait im actually so confused how this got so long omfg) | Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, idrk its long but it’s sweet?

She saw him long before she approached him. She was truly unsure of herself, not wanting to bother him or upset him. She had been a fan for so long and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet someone who meant so much to her.

In the small Bayeux shop, she hesitates as she risks another glance at the tall man. She whispered to her mom minutes ago about how Harry Styles was in the same shop as them. Her mom was texting her non stop telling her to go up to him or she would do it herself. Y/N shook her head, distrusting her mom and feeling self conscious. No one else was in the store and her interaction with him wouldn’t disrupt the rest of the store, but for some reason she felt a tinge of discomfort about going up to him.

Harry leafs over a tablecloth, not paying attention to the other patrons in the store or anything else for that matter. He was staying on the coast of France for the week and he hadn’t run into many fans, so he was feeling at ease. Mitch was somewhere else in the store, but Harry felt comfortable on his own. He feels a soft, small tap on his broad shoulder. He turns expecting the quiet Mitch, but is presented with a short, sweet looking woman.

“Excuse me. Um, hi...Sorry to bother you,” she starts, eyes wide as she works to maintain eye contact with Harry as she looks up at him.

His green eyes are widened, realizing this isn’t someone he knows.

“Hello,” he says simply.

“I-” she pauses, her hands fiddling, “I’m sorry to bother you, honestly. But, your music means so much to me and I’d kick myself for the rest of my life if I didn’t say something before you left.”

He smiles, his expression softening at how genuine she sounds. “It’s quite alright.”

“It’s not though. I’m sure you’d appreciate not being bothered for once.”

“No,” he cuts her off, “I love talking with fans.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure there’s days where you wish you could just go to a random store on the coast of France - so out of the way - and not be walked up to by a random person.”

“I mean, I guess, but you seem rather nice.”

“Thanks...I’ve been a fan long enough to know that there’s people who don’t always treat you with that kind of respect. I really wouldn’t have bothered you if it wouldn’t have changed my life.”

“Don’t feel like you’re a bother, please,” he pleads lightly as he grasps her hand out of instinct, dropping it immediately when he realizes what he’s done. “It’s the people who don’t actually come up to me and treat me like an animal that are upsetting. Or the people who are only after a photo and aren’t very nice to me. You… you’re treating me like a human being. Being overly courteous -- if I’m being honest.” He chuckles lightly at the end.

She blushes at his words and smiles up at him, mirroring the soft smile on his lips. “I’m only treating you how I would want to be treated if I were in your shoes.” She glances down at his feet and notices the Gucci boots and smiles to herself, laughing lightly.

“What?”

“We’ve got the same shoes on actually.”

“No way!” His voice is playful at first as he glances down at well and realizes she’s right. He laughs at the weird little coincidence.

“I’ve had these for years, my favorite shoes…” She mumbles, seeing the ways his eyes shift with a flash of concern. It’s what she fears he would think of her, why she was so hesitant to approach him in the first place. It’s why she had tried to hide her laugh from him when she noticed the similarity. She just wants to interact with him in a normal way. He again softens at her words, her sincerity, realizing it really just is one of those random things.

“They’re good shoes,” he laughs again, kicking his left heel with his right foot. The way she barely touched him to get his attention and the way she stays a safe distance from him is reassuring. She’s aware of his situation, yet she’s treating him with the utmost care and respect.

“So what brings you to Bayeux?” He asks, deciding he wants to continue the conversation with her. Y/N flits her eyes behind her shoulder and sees her mother watching their interaction out of the corner of her eye. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter her and Harry are at.

“Vacation, I guess. My family and I love to travel and ever since the pandemic settled down - finally, we’ve been jetting everywhere we’ve ever been or wanted to go. Seize the day vibes.” Her voice is serious, but she falters and laughs at the end. Her words are honest and she’s happy to actually get to talk to Harry more than just hello and a picture.

“I get that. You’re from America, yeah? It was really rough there for a long time.” He says solemnly, mirroring her figure, leaning against the counter, getting comfortable with her.

She laughs again, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling, completely in love with her idol, but desperately trying to play it cool. “The accent gives it away, huh? I’m trying to fix that, get a job out of the states and never go back.”

“Hey!” Harry interjects, throwing his hand out from his stance in her direction, like he might touch her, but this time being careful to not actually. “It’s not that bad. I like your accent...And I love LA.”

She can’t stop laughing with Harry. It feels so simple and common to just be talking with him. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush anywhere, but she also fears to take up too much of his time. “I’m originally from up north in California actually. Living in LA right now, though. But I don’t know, I’ve just always felt like I was meant to live somewhere else. Do you know how that is? Just feeling like you’re meant for something different?”

He watches the way she moves her hands and works through her thought process. He feels like in another world they would have been close friends. The way she talks about things is so familiar to him. It’s like she’s read his mind, even though he knows for sure she hasn’t. She’s funny and laid back, yet mature at the same time. He wonders how old she is, out of college it seems if she’s trying to get a job out of the United States. He wonders what she plans to do and who she wants to become. Her aura intrigues him to no end. He thinks he could talk to her for hours.

Realizing he hasn’t made any sort of response to her somewhat philosophical question, he nods quickly, eyes blinking rapidly, his body straightening up back to his full height. “Yeah..I mean that’s how I felt about music. Like, I always felt like I was meant for something more… Turns out I was!”

They smile together again, knowing the conversation is ending. She knows he won’t keep asking questions and she doesn’t want to keep him.

He knows he can’t completely turn himself over to this stranger, she’s obviously younger than him and even though he feels connected to her, she could surprise him still. He knows he can’t talk to her forever, the cashier glancing at the pair of them every so often since they haven’t been looking at any merchandise for a while now. He knows he shouldn’t flirt with her, ask her out for coffee or anything of the sort. He simply knows this must come to an end any moment now.

“You should definitely follow your heart,... I didn’t catch your name?” He realizes when he can’t finish his sentence by calling her name.

“Oh!” She says surprisedly, not realizing she never gave her name, “Y/N. And thank you, means a lot to hear encouragement come from someone who’s been such an inspiration to me. Honestly, thank you.”

He perks at the way she says her name, again feeling like he’s known her for much longer than these five minutes.

“It’s me who should be thanking you, Y/N. Your support is what makes my life the way it is. It means a lot to me - and you truly seem like a lovely person, genuinely.”

She throws her head back in laughter at all of the words he’s saying. The way he’s trying to convey his sincerity is earnest, but his word choice is simply funny to her. Without realizing what she’s doing, she throws out her arm and her hand lands on his bicep to steady herself while laughing - something she would do with anyone normally. He doesn’t shift from her grasp when she opens her eyes and even widens them at the sight in front of her. Her hand on Harry Styles. How is this happening? She thinks as he doesn’t disintegrate underneath her touch. He’s definitely real as she feels the coat fabric and the muscles beneath it. He smiles down at her, so sweetly that his dimples pop out. She’s in awe, but has to contain the slight sense of coolness she’d been maintaining during their conversation.

She removed her hand, gingerly, “I won’t keep you any longer, Harry.” She blushes when she says his name. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to get a picture with you, but I totally understand if you’re not okay with that. I wouldn’t post it anywhere, it’s more just for me to remember this.” She rushes the last bit, feeling nervous and shy yet again. He was so big physically, but his presence was also so strong that she felt even smaller around him.

His smile calms her immediately and this time it's his hand to touch her, his hand landing over hers that’s been resting on the counter during their conversation.

“Of course,” His lips are soft and plush as they maintain his sweet smile. “Hey Mitch!” He looks over his shoulder as he calls to Mitch who has returned from the upstairs part of the shop.

Mitch blinks at the sight of Harry with a stranger before coming over, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind taking a picture of Y/N and me?”

Y/N is still in disbelief of what is going on, completely awestruck that Harry just said her name again to Mitch Rowland. And that Mitch Rowland was even in this shop with her as well. She hadn’t realized that at first. But now she was going to be forever grateful to her father for insisting they come back to Bayeux during this trip.

Mitch nods and takes her phone once she slips it out of her pocket, fingers fidgeting to get it open quickly. Mitch smiles at her reassuringly as she lets go and moves to stand beside Harry against the counter. He pulls her into his side gently and her hand goes around his waist, feeling his warmth and substantiality for the first true time. She tries to ground herself in the moment, memorizing every detail of right now. His cologne that emanates from his neck, the way the material of his jacket feels against her bare arm, the way he puffs out a slight laugh as Mitch shifts around to get most of their bodies in the frame. Oh and the way he looks when he tilts his neck to check on her and he even risks a wink of one of his emerald eyes and she promises herself she’ll never give away any of the clothes she’s wearing right now. Her nonchalant response is to wink right back and then they both smile, turning back their attention to the phone in Mitch’s hands.

Her mom had gone up to the cashier, effectively distracting them from the photoshoot that had begun to take place. Y/N never wants Harry to let go of her, but again she knows this can’t last forever. Mitch takes a couple of photos before handing the phone back. Y/N assumes that’s it and is about to thank Harry, but he speaks over her and her words die in her throat.

“How do they look?”

“Oh?” She flips through them and Harry leans over her shoulder, respectfully. “Pretty good,” she sums up, she loves them and she’d love even more, but she’d obviously never ask Harry for that.

“Pretty good?” He echoes, unsure of her response, looking from her to the photos, “Do you want to take more?”

She thinks on his offer, already knowing the right answer, “No, no. It’s all good. Thanks.”

Then turning to face Mitch, who’s been watching the pair of them converse, “Could I actually get a photo with you, Mitch? Sorry if that’s super weird, I just think you’re really cool. I had no idea you were even here until, uh, Harry called you over.” She laughs nervously, blushing yet again.

Harry laughs under his breath at how both her and Mitch blush at her words. She’s more unsure with Mitch, which he finds interesting. She had carried their conversation easily and maintained eye contact casually, but with Mitch, it was like he was her schoolyard crush, nervous hands and fleeting glances. He wondered if she genuinely only liked Harry for his music and didn’t find him physically attractive. This nagging feeling at the back of his mind perplexed him, he twitched trying to shrug it off. Why did he care if this woman found Mitch attractive and not him?

“Yeah, of course. It’s not weird, have had plenty of people say much weirder things to me than that…” He smiles at Y/N and she mirrors his expression, but then she bites her lip. Her expression falters slightly as she processes his words. “I’m sorry if you’ve had similar experiences as Harry with so-called fans being disrespectful and inconsiderate.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve been nothing but kind and respectful,” Harry interjects

She only fidgets at his words. She’s growing slightly more nervous, being in the presence of both Mitch and Harry was starting to wear on her calm exterior. Still, Mitch trades places with Harry and Harry plucks her phone from her hands. He takes more photos than Mitch, doing close ups and full shots, causing Mitch and Y/N to laugh as they hold onto each other. He gives them little instructions on what to do in the photos and soon Y/N is rolling her eyes at Harry like she’s been best friends with him for ages. She feels like she’s just out with a couple of her friends and they decided to stop and pose for photos randomly, rather than meeting rock legends that she had only dreamt of ever seeing in real life.

When Harry is finally satisfied and comes up to the pair of them, she moves away from Mitch first, his long hair shifting as she pulls away from his side. She turns to face him immediately and starts to gush, “You’re an amazing guitarist, by the way. I forgot to say that. When I heard ‘She’ for the first time...I was blown away. The guitar on it...Feels like you’re in another universe. And it follows up ‘To Be So Lonely’ which your guitar on it is also like crazy epic. ”

Harry and Mitch laugh, but Mitch’s smile is appreciative, like he’s about to speak, but Harry speaks first, “That’s because he was in another universe. You know the story?”

She smiles and nods. Harry nods in approval. Mitch interjects, “Thank you. Also, Y/N,” he stares intently at her face and she meets his gaze this time, “You’re truly one of the kindest people - maybe the kindest - who have come up to us. And I’m not just saying that because you complimented my guitar playing.”

“He’s right,” Harry nods solemnly. Her face beams up at them both, now she really felt like this was too good to be true. Meeting her idols and having them both say very complimentary things about her, she’d cherish it forever.

“You both are amazing people and deserve to be treated as such.” Her tone is the sincerest she’s ever been, meaning every single thing she says. Then she rushes out her next few sentences, “But thank you again, seriously, you both mean a lot to me - I’ll let you get back to it...Have a nice day!”

After they say their farewells swiftly, she turns to leave and bounces over to her mother who is grinning with pride for her daughter. Before she exits completely she risks a glance over her shoulder and throws a peace sign up, Harry returns it. Then she walks out of the shop, her mother finishing up her shopping minutes ago. Mitch and Harry stay back, talking and continuing to look around the store.

Y/N tries to keep her cool until they’re out of sight of the shop. Once they round the corner and are on the next street over, she’s jumping up and down and squealing to her mom. “Can you actually believe it? What the fuck just happened? That was real right? I wasn’t hallucinating?”

Her mom laughs and reassures her it was real, “You did that, I’m so proud of you. You handled yourself very maturely”

“Well I tried! I can’t believe Mitch was there too!” She interjects, cutting off her mom, completely ecstatic from the previous experience.

“So how did the photos come out?” Her mom asks once Y/N had stopped rambling about Harry’s outfit and their matching shoes and their conversation and basically anything that had happened in the last ten minutes. They were blocks from the shop now.

“Photos?”

“Yeah, the photos you took with them. How do they look? I was ready to come over, but then that other man popped out of nowhere.”

“He’s smooth like that,” she says wistfully, her little crush on Mitch being nowhere near her love for Harry, but still present, and pats for her phone. “Oh.” She says, stopping in her tracks.

Her mother stops with her, “What?”

“I...I left my phone in the store, I guess.”

“Y/N…” Her mom drags out her name in exasperation, in awe of her daughter’s ability to be so smooth with her own idol yet how forgetful she could still be.

“Shit!” She confirms that her phone is nowhere to be found.

“Really?” Her mother sighs, hands sitting on her hips in the center of the French street.

“Sorry?” She asks sheepishly. In her starstruck stupor she had been too transfixed on Harry and Mitch and must have placed it down on the counter.

“Well, let’s go back,” her mother states, tired but also not completely mad. She lost her phone plenty of times and it was usually because of less acceptable reasons. Meeting your idols warranted a spacey head.

The door chimes as Y/N reenters the store, she walks quickly to wear she had her conversation with Harry almost twenty minutes ago and her mom goes to ask the clerk if they had grabbed it. It’s not on the counter where they had been leaning. She glances around checking to see if it had fallen on the ground or if by some grand luck Harry and Mitch were still there. Due to her luck, neither of these hopes came true. Her mom joins her in the area and shakes her head, the clerk hadn’t gotten any phones turned in since they had left the first time.

“Give me your phone,” Y/N says suddenly. “Find my iphone,” she explains when her mom looks at her questioningly. Checking the phone, she sighs in exasperation, silently cursing herself for not sharing her location with her mom when her phone icon says ‘location unavailable’. She rubs a hand over her face in disappointment.

“Don’t click the sound button!” Her mom says quickly, “If someone stole it, they’ll turn it off when they hear it.”

“But how am I supposed to find it? It could be here and I just can’t see it.” Her finger hovers over the ‘play sound’ button, hesitant, but desperate. She had met and gotten photos with Harry Styles and they were already gone - oh and she’d have to replace her phone, which would be terrible, as well.

“Maybe Harry Styles has it?”

“Mom, don’t be dumb.”

“Hey! Watch your tone. I’m serious. Did he ever hand it back to you after he took those second round of pictures?”

Y/N scratches her head nervously and hands back her mom’s phone. She places both over her face and presses her fingers harshly over her eyes trying to think. She hadn’t been paying attention to her phone at the time, too busy trying to commit everything about Harry to memory in her mind so that she’d never forget it. She was sure she’d never forget today, now, even if she ever stopped loving Harry, which she was doubtful of. Hey kids, I met a rockstar and I was so starstruck I lost my phone in France! She groaned. “Oh my fucking god!”

After a few deep breaths with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, she composed herself, “We need to play the sound. Either it’s here and we’ll find it. Or - worst case scenario - it sounds and Harry Styles realizes he has my phone and we go from there… Well, I guess in the worst case scenario some jerk stole it and they turn it off and sell it for parts, but I just don’t think that’s what happened.” She bites her lip and stares at her mom, who hesitantly raises her finger to press the button that sets off the alarm on the lost phone. She clicks it after an overly dramatic pause. Y/N prays to anyone who’s willing to listen, she says in her mind, please sound the phone in here. Life would be so much simpler if it worked out the way we wanted. But, in place of the annoying echoing ring of the Find My iPhone tone there is only silence. At least there’s silence in the little shop in Bayeux.

In a tiny taxi cab that was headed to a small chateau outside of the town of Bayeux, the phone sounds and causes Harry to furrow his brows. He was sure he had his phone on ‘do not disturb’, but he pulls it out anyway to see why it’s making this annoying sound. What he pulls out of his coat pocket is not his phone he realizes immediately.

“Shit,” he says under his breath, still loud enough for Mitch to look over from the opposite passenger seat.

“What?”

“This isn’t my phone.”

“What?”

Harry rolls his eyes at Mitch’s repeated question and opens up his purse digging out his actual phone and holds up his and the one he had apparently stolen.

“Oh, yeah, that’s not your phone. That’s not good.”

Harry huffs as he turns the unknown phone over in his hand, the screen was a scene of a city he didn’t actually recognize - San Francisco maybe - the lavender silicone case is smooth in his hand and he notices a little sticker, it’s of Y/N and two other women. His eyes widen at it and it makes a little more sense to him. He hadn’t really stolen a phone, he just forgot to give it back. It wasn’t much better, but it was how he was going to comfort himself. Dropping his own phone in his lap, he runs his hand through his hair, rings slightly tugging at his mused curls. Then he turns the sticker to show Mitch, “It’s that girl we met, it’s her phone.”

“You stole her phone,” Mitch states. Voice deadpan and eyes boring into Harry’s.

“No!” Harry defends, but quickly slumps, “I mean, technically? Yes...But-” Mitch’s laughter cuts him off. “You’re an idiot, Harry, y’know that?”

“I feel like I’m on punk’d right now…” Y/N grumbles as it becomes clear that the phone is not in this shop. “If this is punk’d, at least my phone’s not actually gone,” she says to no one really. Her mom is pacing the store and stops to look at her daughter, “This is most definitely not punk’d for so many reasons, dear. Mainly because the show got canceled but also because we are in Bayeux, France not Malibu.”

“Fuck…”

She walks out of the shop, barely paying a glance to the shop keeper this time, her usual kind demeanor nowhere to be found under the piles of distress and anxiety plaguing her body.

Back out on the street she looks around, again hoping that with any luck Harry is still around and will come running up to her to give her back her phone. Again, no such luck.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” She looks to her mom helplessly, her arms flapping by her sides, defeated.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Harry asks as they get out of the taxi, glancing at the purple phone in his hand.

Mitch shrugs, “Hope she has her location on?”

“Then she’s going to come here...But wouldn’t she have tried to track it first instead of playing the sound?”

“Dude, I don’t know.You can try to unlock it and find her mom’s number, get in contact with them.” Mitch sighs as they walk through the front door. “Or we can go back to town, see if they’re still there? Did you get her last name? You could find her on social media maybe?”

“I feel terrible...She was so nice.” Harry throws his bags down on the entryway couch and begins to pace, Y/N’s phone never leaving his hand. “Could go back into town tomorrow, maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mitch sits and runs a hand through his hair, “Just calm down, right now, Harry. There’s not much else you can do.”

He’s right and Harry tries to not fixate on the phone, but he fiddles with it for the rest of the day. He doesn’t let it leave his sight and sets it beside his bed when he gets ready to go to sleep. As he shifts in the bed, unable to fall asleep he takes the phone and begins trying to unlock it, guessing random numbers and failing miserably. Eventually, he decides he should go to bed and drifts off into an uncomfortable sleep.

After being unsuccessful in town, Y/N and her mom went back to the little villa they were staying at on the outskirts of Bayeux. It was located next to some vineyards that the villa co-owned with the private chateau that sat on the other side of the vines. It was beautiful and she had been so excited to be staying there. But after the events of today, she was not in the mood to join the rest of her family for dinner among the grapes. She lays on her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how she had been so stupid to forget to ask for her phone back.

In the middle of the night, she wakes up in a cold sweat. She’s still in the clothes she had worn out and was laying on top of her covers at the end of her bed. All the windows of the room were closed and her shades weren’t drawn. Groggily, she rose from her uncomfortable position and changed. Moving to the window to let some air in she sees the lights flickering in a room of the private chateau across the way. She wondered why someone would willingly be up at this hour, even though she was unsure exactly what time it was without her phone. Her phone. That’s what had woken her up. She had dreamt that her mom had called her phone and the frog from the Frog and the Toad stories had picked it up. That was ridiculous, of course, but the idea to call her phone instead of just pinging it was solid. If Harry still had it, then he could pick up and they could figure out how to meet up. She decided she’d have to do that at a reasonable hour, however and moved on, opening her windows and closing the sheer shades, before getting under her covers to sleep.

Y/N wakes up early the next morning. Her sleep a restless one. Padding down the hall to her parent’s room, she knocks solemnly. She was far from a morning person and it was much to her mother’s surprise to see her standing in the hallway when she opened the door.

“Hey..” her voice catches in her throat, scratchy from lack of use in the night.

“Good morning, sunshine,” her mother laughs slightly, but Y/N only gives her an unamused look and walks into her room immediately searching for her mom’s phone.

“Need to use your phone, gonna call my phone,” she mutters, none of her thoughts being coherent sentences.

“Y/N, it’s 7 am. You’re going to call Harry Styles at 7 am? With your morning voice?”

Her eyes narrow and her lips form a straight line one her face, clearly not amused by her mother’s questions. Even if she knew her mom was right. She clears her throat and rolls her eyes at her mom, who is moving around the room beginning to get ready for the day as her daughter sits on the rumpled bed. Y/N’s father had already gone out to breakfast in the main area of the villa.

“Fine,” she slides off the bed when she realizes her mom isn’t offering her any more words of wisdom. “I’ll get ready for the day and then I will call my phone.”

Pattering back to her room, she slowly begins to dress and liven herself up for the day. Her hands instinctively reach out to her bedside table to pick up her phone to turn some music on, but of course she’s greeted with nothing. She groans loudly, “Of. Fucking. Course.” Shaking her head, she moves to take fresh clothes out of her suitcase.

Exiting her room again, this time far more awake, she walks down the hallway in a babydoll style top that read “Don’t play with my heart” with little girls playing racquetball with a red heart emblazoned over her chest and white jean floods. Her feet were covered in red high top converse today, matching the color of the small heart on her shirt. She liked the contrast of the white pants and the bright red of the shoes and she smiled to herself as she walked confidently into the breakfast area.

Her entire family was sitting around one of the tables, sipping coffee and eating pastries, it was now around 8:45 - a slightly more acceptable part of the day. They were all early risers, especially in comparison to her, and her older sister looks at her curiously. “What are you doing up so early, kid?” Y/N leans down to grab a slice of a peach from her brother’s place, which earns her a slight yelp of protest. She rolls her eyes at her sister and stalks off to the buffet, knowing she’s made her presence known enough.

“Can I borrow your phone now?” Y/N says after finishing a small danish and the lukewarm coffee that was at their table when she arrived. Her mother finally nods and hands it over. As Y/N grabs it, she’s already halfway out the doors that lead into the backyard of the villa.

She stands on the grass that goes for a few feet before a hedge that separates the villa ground with the vineyard. Flipping through the contacts, she settles on hers and sighs, trying to calm her nerves. Her free hand ghosts over her hair and she uses one foot to step lightly on the heel of the other shoe. Please pick up, she sends out a prayer once again. Her last twenty-four hours seemed to consist of dreams, hopes, and prayers and she was starting to realize that she didn’t particularly like any of them. Biting her lip, she raises her phone up to her ear and gets her automatic voice message. Realizing she has her phone on ‘do not disturb’, she immediately rings herself again, knowing that it will go through this time.

Harry strolls out of his bathroom and widens his eyes when he hears a buzzing hear his bed. Seeing it’s Y/N’s phone he grabs it quickly and furrows his brow at the contact. Her mother’s name, but he doesn’t know that. To him it’s just a person’s name, it could be anyone she knew. Still, he thought about the odds of it being just one of her friends or her calling from someone else’s phone and decided to risk it.

“Hello?”

“Thank fucking God!” is all he hears and he’s pretty sure it’s Y/N’s voice.

“Y/N?” He laughs and takes a seat on his bed, staring out his window that opened to the vineyard.

“Yes! Harry? Hi!” She’s ecstatic that anyone picked up at all, bouncing up and down on the other side of the phone. She mutters to herself, once again, “Thank fucking God.”

“Who’s phone are you calling from?”

“Oh, my mom’s,” she says, calming down slightly as she begins to walk around the grass, unable to contain the renewed sense of energy she has.

“You don’t keep her in your contacts as ‘mum’? I almost didn’t pick up.” He tilts his head, trying to think of anyone else he knew who kept their mother’s contact as the actual name rather than ‘mum’ or some other variant of it.

“Well, thanks for picking up,” she laughs at his words, bringing her pacing to a stop to stare at the chateau across the way. “It’s really not that weird,” she insists, her arm going to cradle the elbow of the arm that holds the phone to her ear. “I don’t think any of my siblings have her as ‘mom’ in their contacts.”

“I think it’s a little weird. I’m going to have to start asking people what they’ve got their mum down as in their phones. You’ve got me intrigued,” he muses, only slightly teasing. A smile curves onto his face as he hears her huff over the phone, obviously not liking his ribbing.

“So...you have my phone,” she changes the subject.

“Yes…” he scratches his head and she swears she could hear him awkwardly rubbing at his hair. “Sorry ‘bout that. Guess I forgot to give it back.”

“Not entirely your fault, I probably should have asked for it back. It was like twenty minutes before I even realized I didn’t have it and that was only really thanks to my mom.” She tries to not make him feel bad, because she honestly felt responsible for the mess up.

“Yeah, but I probably wouldn’t’ve realized till I got back to my place and pulled out one phone from my pocket and another one from my bag if you hadn’t tried the ‘find my iphone’ thing.”

“Oh my god, was it loud!? Did you have a hard time shutting it off?” She rushes as all the possible ways she might have annoyed Harry yesterday run through her mind.

“No, no, it was fine,” he reassures her, laughing lightly, standing up now and beginning to pace in front of his window. “Felt like a proper dick, though. Never in my life have I forgotten to give someone their phone back.” He sighs and stops in front of the window, deciding to open it for some fresh air.

Her gaze flits to a movement on the second floor of the chateau, someone opening up their window apparently. The long paned windows flip open and the little sheer curtains flutter in the slight morning breeze.

“So are you still in Bayeux?” Harry asks, hoping her answer is ‘yes’ as he takes in a deep breath of the air from outside.

“Yeah. Are you still here?” She asks timidly, moving her gaze down to her shoes bright red sticking out of the green grass. “Because that will make getting my phone back much easier,” she adds, clarifying that it’s not supposed to be a personal question, just simply a logistical one. Even if her heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again.

“Yes, I am. Well...just outside the town actually.”

“You don’t say? I’m staying just outside of town, too. At a little villa located next to a vineyard,” She looks around her surroundings again, walking the length of the garden once more. A movement from the same room that had opened their windows at the chateau catching her eye once again. A man, with his arm placed on the sill, leaning out slightly.

“You’re not wearing red shoes by any chance?” He smiles and she can hear the way it affects his words. Looking out of the window, he eyes the villa and the person who was pacing around its patio, seemingly on the phone.

Her brows raise and she stops in her tracks. “Did you just open your window?”

The only response from Harry that she hears is a soft chuckle. But, more importantly, the man in the chateau is waving to her. She grins and waves her free hand over her head, doing a slight jump to make sure he sees her. His laughter only grows, crackling slightly over the telephone line.

“What are the odds?” She breathes out after a moment. Her waving hand fell to her side and she looked at the figure in the window. It wasn’t exactly clear to her that it was Harry, but the way the man was hunched was enough to convince her. She vaguely sees him shake his head in agreement at the serendipitous nature of their current situation.

“Have you had a chance to dine in the vineyard yet?” Harry bites his lip after he asks the question, feeling a little more confident in his flirtation over the phone.

“I have - only once for dinner. Last night I was so stressed I couldn’t eat.”

“What do you think about lunch in the vineyard?” He’s smiling now, the charm dripping in every word he says. His accent is music to her ears and she thinks how could she ever say no to that offer.

“I don’t know...lunch with my phone thief?” She imitates an unsure tone. Her tease is lighthearted and Harry huffs, playfully indignant.

“As an apology for keeping your phone by mistake,” he adds, emphasizing the ‘by mistake’ part.

“As long as I can get my phone back, I’m up for anything you want,” She laughs, but then blushes at the innuendo that could be found in her words. Harry hears it and an amused look spreads across his face, the definition of anything running through his mind as well as his assured belief that Y/N did not mean what she had just implied. “I mean! Not anything, I just...Lunch in the vineyard would be lovely, Harry.” She sighs, a hand trailing down her face at her complete foolishness.

“Great. How does one o’clock sound?” He moves on from her slip, not wanting to embarrass her anymore. Especially when he was the one to cause this entire situation.

“Sounds smashing, Mr. Thief,” She breathes out, but laughs when she hears Harry groan.

“You’re something else, missy.”

“I know.” She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her giggles at their playful back and forth.

“See you at one.” He says finally.

“See you at one.” She echoes, continuing to watch him in the window. Neither of them seem to move to hang up. She’s stood in place and so is he, his head hanging out of the window now, resting himself on his arm. It’s just their breathing exchanging over the line and some gusts of wind crackling the connection every so often.

“Are you going to hang up?” She whispers, after a minute of complete silence, her voice coming out impossibly small.

“Thought you would’ve by now.”

“I don’t know why I can’t.” She admits, but she just feels weird hanging up on him even if they have plans to see each other later.

“Me neither.” His response causes her to tilt her head in confusion. Why would he have trouble hanging up on her?

“Okay.”

Then, it’s quiet again. Both of them shifting their bodies around, yet still managing to stay on the line. Y/N is the one who hangs up the phone after hearing Harry’s breath shake slightly, like he’s steeling himself to actually hang up. She realizes that while she doesn’t want to hang up on him, she’d rather do it than have him hang up on her. If that made any sense. She wasn’t sure, but the way he had invited her to lunch, it just felt like he had shifted their relationship from fan and star to something else. Something she didn’t fully grasp, but whatever it was made her stomach flip.

She informed her family that she wouldn’t be going out with them today and that she was getting her phone back, but not that she would be having lunch with Harry. She had no idea what they would think about it, but she didn’t want to give them the chance to inform her.

Walking through the vineyards, she watches the slight dust from the dirt gather on her shoes, the red converse. She had settled on what she had been wearing originally after changing her outfit upwards of twenty times. Best to be casual, she thought, like it was no big deal that she was about to dine with a musician whom she loved.

There was only one table on this side of the vineyard, it was the part owned by the chateau, a couple rows from where the villa had their tables. The simple cream tablecloth laid across the wooden table that had two matching wooden chairs with cream cushions placed around it. On top of the table was a picnic basket and a bottle of red wine, made from the grapes in the vineyard. And in one of the chairs sat Harry. Big square green glasses perched on his nose as he looked up at the sky. Y/N takes in his appearance, his cream shirt with stitched patterns on it, half unbuttoned to grant a full view of his swallows and butterfly as well as baggy light wash ripped jeans and dirty white vans. His shirt almost matches the tablecloth, but she’s not sure if he would take that as a compliment.

He hadn’t noticed her presence and he rubs his lips together, smoothing the lip balm he had applied before settling outside.

“Mr. thief?” She touches lightly on his shoulder, similar to how she had done yesterday. His head shoots up and he readjusts in his chair, to sit up slightly more upright. A smile curves onto his face and he moves his glasses up into his hair, pushing his curls back behind them.

“Y/N,” he drags out her name, toying with the sound of it. His eyes flit over her figure, taking in her outfit but quickly run back to her beautiful face. He motions for her to take a seat and she complies.

“The red shoes,” he smiles, glancing at her shoes. She laughs and does a little click of her heels.

“Can’t believe my phone was less than a mile away from me last night.”

“Oh! Your phone!” Harry’s eyes widened, “I forgot it in my room!”

Y/N laughs, her smile spreading on her face immediately, but her face falls when she sees Harry isn’t laughing. “You can’t be serious.” Harry says nothing, a blush creeping up his neck. “Harry…” she doesn’t know what else to say, scratching at the back of her head. “I guess stars really are just like us, complete space cadets.”

“I’m sorry! I was..distracted.”

She can’t keep herself from laughing and she places her hand over Harry’s on the table, trying to calm him down. “No worries, seriously, I was just teasing you. I’ve gone this long without my phone, an hour or so more won’t kill me.”

He smiles sheepishly, mentally kicking himself for how foolish he had made himself look. “Sorry ‘bout that. Seems like I’m really trying to keep your phone, doesn’t it?”

“Kind of...but I don’t think there’s anything in particular on there that you’d really be interested in having access to.”

He grabs the bottle of wine and takes the temporary cork off, he had previously uncorked it before Y/N had arrived. He pours the wine and then quirks a brow towards her. “I’m sure you’ve got some funny notes on there, you’re hilarious.”

She scoffs as his look is serious. Picking her glass up, she clinks it with Harry’s and takes a sip. She hums at the taste, judging the flavor and deeming it good. He watches her as she makes her silent decision and smirks at the way she smiles to herself. Coming back to the conversation she makes eye contact with Harry as she sets the glass down and leans back in her chair.

“You barely know me.” A coy smile flits across her features now. Harry’s heart skips a beat at her tone. He had been expecting some lighthearted quip, but this held something far more intense. It’s still teasing, but it’s far closer to flirting than friendly joking.

He begins to unpack the basket and place food onto the table, eyes constantly flickering between his task and Y/N. Her eyes are fixated on his hands, the way they flex and move and the way his rinks clink against the containers he’s moving around.

“Then tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything.” He finishes placing the food on the table and removes the basket from the table so there’s nothing obstructing their view of each other.

“Very specific,” she takes a sip of her wine again, refraining from rolling her eyes. It was easy to talk to Harry, like they had been friends forever.

Harry lets out one of his loud single laughs. “See! You’re hilarious.” His compliment makes her finally roll her eyes playfully. Instead of responding, she puts some food onto the plate in front of her and takes a bite of a peach slide she had grabbed.

“You’re a flirt,” she says finally, her smile spreading across her face.

“That’s a fact ‘bout me not you, love.”

She bites her lip. For being extremely forgetful, Harry was also extremely charming. “Well, I’m not a fan of flirts.”

“I thought you said you were a massive fan yesterday?” He tilts his head to the side and looks at her with an inviting look in his eye, obviously trying to goad her.

She let out a gasp at his words and began to blush. His stare felt like a second sun boring straight into her, its heat traveling directly to her core. Trying to maintain her collected appearance that she had played so well yesterday, she takes a breath and another sip of wine. The liquid ran down her throat, soothing her. Shaking her head she says, “You know what I meant.”

Biting a piece of bread, Harry nods and shoots her a wink. Her legs instinctively shift together. Finishing his chewing, he speaks up, “Okay, but seriously, tell me more about yourself.”

They settle in, getting more serious and having an actual conversation rather than flirty comments shot back and forth. By the end of the bottle of wine, Harry and Y/N are cackling about some story she’s told about her first solo trip to Amsterdam and all the trouble she got into being a twenty year old college student with easy legal access to weed.

“I remember the first time I went to Amsterdam with the band,” Harry easily segways into his own story and she perks at the words ‘the band’. After all the fun they had been having talking and getting to know each other, the idea that Harry was a famous musician had left her mind completely. For the last forty-five minutes he had just been a really nice guy who was treating her to lunch.

She looks at him expectantly. “It was crazy cool, I think I was only seventeen then? But everyone else was over 18 so they bought us a bunch of pot and we smoked it and got high off our asses. Can barely remember what we talked about, but we definitely thought it was the smartest shit ever”

“Do you ever miss that?”

He finishes off his last bit of wine, “Being young and dumb?”

“No, the, like, relationship you had with them. I don’t mean to pry, but I feel like with any close relationship, when you stop being together all the time...it’s never the same.”

Harry sighs, thinking over what you had said, now knowing it was rather serious and not just about being young. He runs a hand through his soft curls before starting his response. “Short answer is yes. But, y’know, they were my family for so long and that bond doesn’t go away, even if we go through rough patches. Like that part of my life is such an essential part of who I am, I could never throw it away or discount it. I don’t know if I miss it all of the time though. I really like who I am right now.”

She nods, finishing her wine now too. Her body is fuzzy and warm under the soft light of the afternoon. Sharing a bottle of wine was enough to make her tipsy, but she felt sober enough to carry on their serious conversation. “That’s good. It’s important to like who you are right now. It’s how you know you’re ready to be there for others.” She says thoughtfully and then adds, “I like who I am right now, too.”

Harry smiles at her, a calm expression maintaining on his face, and twists his rings on his fingers. “That’s good,” he echoes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” His voice is soft and of course she’s going to say yes.

Her response is to stand up from the table and begin putting things back into the picnic basket. Harry watches her for a moment, taking in the way she moves with so much elegance even when doing such a mundane task. He is honestly so happy that he had gotten to see her again. She had intrigued him yesterday, but he had just expected her to be one of those fleeting thoughts in his mind. Now he wasn’t so sure. He had a feeling she would live in his memory for far longer. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll come back later and grab it all.”

“You set this all up, the least I can do is clean up a little,” She looks up at him from her crouched position as she packs up the leftover food into the basket still on the ground. Her hair is slightly falling into her face and she reaches to push it behind her ear while they continue to look at one another. Harry takes his lower lip into his mouth as he continues to look at her, trying to convince himself she’s not the most beautiful woman he’s ever met.

As they walk between the grapes, they continue to talk, further investigating Y/N’s job aspirations and what Harry was planning on for his next few weeks of vacation. He leads them down a dirt path after they cross the street, moving away from both the villa and the chateau. The path has tall grass flanking its sides that pushes around in the cool summer breeze. She mentions the beautiful sound of the birds chirping and Harry agrees. They walk until they reach the small lake that’s about a ten minute walk from their respective current residences. It’s not a lake for swimming so there’s no one around, just more tall grass, some small trees, and the animals.

“It’s really so beautiful here.”

“I love it a lot, I’ve been coming down here every evening and just sitting alone for an hour or so,” Harry motions to the little wooden bench located beneath a shady tree. She looks at him questioningly, unsure if he means for them to sit. He takes her hand in response and leads them over to it. It’s right before the edge of the pond and if their legs were just a bit longer they could touch the feet into the water.

“It’s nice,” She says, turning her attention from the scenery to stare at Harry, who she finds is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and she bites her lip. He’s so close to her. Closer than they were in the shop yesterday and now their faces are on the same level. His glasses are still pushed into his curls and she decides to pluck them from his head and place them over her eyes instead. Harry protests, but she says smugly, “I’m putting them to better use than just sitting a top that head of yours. It’s quite bright out.”

Harry leans into her, extending his arm behind her and resting it on the back of the bench. She sighs peacefully, with her gaze now hidden behind the glasses. She returns her gaze out against the water and tries to shift closer to Harry casually. They stay silent, listening to the rest of the world moving around them. Soon she’s resting nestled into his side and his arm has moved from the bench to rest around her shoulders. She exhales in contentment, but neither of them have said anything for a while. They were okay with it, being held was enough. Her right hand goes up and threads with Harry’s that is hanging limply against her.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry decides he wants to talk. “I like being around you.”

“I like being around you too, Harry. You’re different than I had expected.”

“Really?”

“Yeah..I mean there’s that sinister quote about how you should never meet your heroes. But still, you were even kinder than I expected and even though you stole my phone,” she pauses to laugh,”it kind of turned out to be a blessing in disguise because I got to see you again.”

“Thanks…” Harry sighs and she turns her face to gaze up at him. “Well, yeah, now I’m sorta glad I did take your phone. You’re really wonderful.” She smiles and he smiles just as wide.

But then her smile falters, suddenly remembering everything. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy, she mentioned that thing about heroes and it all came crashing down around her. Yes, it was amazing to be around Harry and it was great that he had been so down to earth. But what she had just said was true too. He was her hero, he was famous and their lives didn’t connect at all. Just that one fleeting moment in the shop. If she hadn’t known him they would have never interacted. She had even been on her last legs of being in that store, she was just about to ask her mom to leave when Harry had walked through the door.

She sits up and drops her hand from his and he looks at her confused. “Did I say something wrong?” He asks, concerned. She stands up now and walks the short distance to the edge of the water, pushing his glasses on top of her head. He follows quickly, growing anxious as she stays silent. “I just..” she laughs in spite of herself, “I just feel really dumb right now.”

“What? Why?” Harry’s really confused now, she won’t meet his gaze as he faces her trying to figure out what just happened.

“I can’t believe I fooled myself into thinking for even a second this could ever be something more.” She turns to Harry finally, looking him directly in the eye, even though her eyes are prickling with tears. She’s angry with herself, not Harry. “You’re you and I’m just a fan at the end of the day. All of the flirting and touching, it can’t be anything more. At most, I’m a one night stand. And as great as that would be in the moment, I know how I feel about you and I know it would ruin me. I can’t be a fling for you, Harry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he grabs her arm, trying to comfort her, she shrugs him off. “You’re more than a fan to me, I thought that was obvious by now. You wouldn’t be some meaningless one night stand. When I say I like being around you, I mean I like you, Y/N.” His voice is strong yet soft. He needs to convince her that she can feel comfortable around him, but he sees the darkness in her eyes, how scared she is of being hurt.

“I don’t fit into your life, Harry.” She shakes her head, moving her hands more as she grows more anxious.

“That’s not true. You told me you want to move to England, we could see each other there and see if this was anything.”

She knows he’s right, that it was possible, but she had worked herself up so much now that she had a hard time believing it. She takes a deep breath, “Just answer me this. Would you have given me a second glance if I hadn’t come up to you in that shop yesterday? Or a second thought if there hadn’t been the phone mishap?”

Harry is taken aback. Her words had nothing to do with what he had just said. He had thought his solution was actually really great, a plan he had been meaning to tell her if the rest of the day had gone accordingly, which it didn’t seem to be doing. He pauses and if Y/N was anymore distraught that would have been her cue to leave. Thankfully, she had grounded herself enough in the situation to not let her hot head get in the way of this conversation.

“That’s a pretty unfair question, Y/N. It’s not like I’m constantly looking for someone to fancy.”

“Just answer the questions.”

“Probably not, about the first one, I hadn’t even noticed anyone in the shop before you came up to me. I was off in my own world.” She nods, taking his words into account. He continues, “But yes, about the second one, I thought about you in the car ride home before your phone even rang. Like I said, I like you.”

“Okay.” She softens.

“That’s it?”

“I mean you’re right. We could see each other in London and see if this is something. I just had to know about the other stuff, it was racing through my mind and I wouldn’t get over it unless you gave me an answer.”

“Oh, so can I kiss you?” His words broke the uncomfortable tension that had surrounded them.

“You still want to?” Her voice is small and unsure. The most nervous she had been around Harry was right now.

“I want to do so much more than that, darling, you have no idea.” He cups her cheek and wraps an arm around her waist. She giggles in nervous anticipation. Then his lips gently push onto hers and she sighs into the kiss. At the edge of the lake, the pair of them taste each other for the first time. Tongues begin licking into each other’s mouths and the kiss becomes breathless. Her hands are at the base of his neck, tugging him closer to her while he tightens his grasp around her waist. She moans slightly when Harry nips at her lower lip and he smirks, happy with the sound she makes.

“We should probably go get my phone.” Harry whimpers at her words.

“What?” Harry is once again confused by the woman before him, who had now pulled from their kiss.

“My phone is in your room…” She trails off and then eyes widen and he giggles excitedly. Eventually realizing what she’s implying.

“Yes! Yes, we should go do that. Get your phone. In my room. Sounds like a good idea. Mhmm.” He pecks her lips between each sentence.

“You’re so weird,” she laughs and brings down his shades onto her face once again. He pulls her into his side and kisses the top of her head as they begin their walk back to the chateau.

“Do you want your phone or not?”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry fic #harry fic rec #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot

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settersloveletters · 4 years

Text

MR. HOTSHOT CEO

— part nineteen; yui

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⤷ y/n is an outgoing and bubbly girl who just landed a job as a secretary for bouncing ball corp. kenma kozume, ceo of bouncing ball corp, works secretly as a gaming youtuber and streamer under the name kodzuken. after a miscommunication and y/n learns the truth about kenma both their worlds collide. what does fate have in store for these two?

a/n: AND ITS HERE,, this is the final chapter for MHSCEO (chapter 20 is the epilogue) i decided ti make it a written part just bc there were too many things that needed to be explained. anyways thank you guys for reading this series and i’ll see you in the epilogue mwah !

oh! and pls make sure to stream OYA for clear skin !!

➳ word count: 3.2k

➳ warnings: workplace harassment/bullying; mentions of drinking and alcohol

➳ written by: kiri ♡

[ ! ] written part is under the cut

The thirty minutes passed by quickly, and soon (Y/N) found herself sitting in the passenger’s seat of her boss’ car. Now that she was actually with him, she had no idea what to say. She stole a glance at Kenma, wondering what he was thinking. So many things had happened within the span of 24 hours; she wasn’t watching how much alcohol she was consuming, which then led to a picture of her and Kuroo getting posted across the internet — she cursed herself for that — but when she learned that Kenma also had one too many drinks, and proceeded to film himself drunk on camera, (Y/N) couldn’t have blamed herself more for everything.

“Stop blaming yourself.” Kenma’s soft voice interrupted her thoughts. Her head turned to look at the blonde, who still had his head facing towards the road. Those were the first words he had uttered since (Y/N) got into his car.

“How can I not blame myself”

Kenma’s eyes glanced at her quickly, before refocusing on the road. “It was my choice to be careless and drink that much (Y/N).”

She watched the blonde carefully, one particular question sitting on the tip of her tongue. “Why’d you become so distant Kenma. Why did you keep avoiding me?”

The Youtuber pursed his lips, staying silent for a moment before opening up his mouth to reply. “I was...I was just hurt.” (Y/N)’s brows furrowed at his words.

“Hurt?” She gave him a confused look. “I hurt you? When did I— what did I say to you?” she had a panicked look in her eye.

“No— (Y/N), you’re not the one who hurt me. Well, I’m not saying that you didn’t hurt me, but I wasn’t in the right state of mind to really process anything, but when I say that I was hurt, I wasn’t talking about you, (Y/N).”

That made her even more confused. “Then who are you talking Kenma—”

BZZT! BZZ! BZZT!

(Y/N)’s phone buzzed in her lap, interrupting her question. She had gotten a text. Her eyes widened as she bit your lip, hesitating before lifting up her phone to unlock it. Kenma took note of that, and when the car reached a red light, he turned his head to study (Y/N)’s face. He watched as her eyes read over the text that she received, eyes starting to water a bit. Her expression turned grim, and she sniffled before turning off her phone and stared out the window. What could have made (Y/N)’s mood turn sour?

“(Y/N)?” he whispered, and placed a hand over hers which pulled away, bringing it to her chest.

“Please, just, not yet Kenma.”

The two of them remained in silence for the remainder of the ride to Kenma’s house. (Y/N)’s mind too focused on the text she received, and Kenma too focused on what made her upset.

---

Once they both arrived at his house, Kenma told (Y/N) the directions to the room he wanted her in before going down a different hallway, leaving her alone. She walked straight down the hallway she was currently in, smiling softly when she passed by his recording room. If it wasn’t for that same recording room, she would have never found out about Kenma’s double life as a young CEO and a famous Youtuber.

(Y/N) passed by two more rooms, before reaching the room Kenma said to wait for him in. Sliding the door open, she scanned the room before her. The floor was covered with tatami mats, a small table sitting on top of them right in the middle of the room. On one wall, a painting of a small tabby cat taking a nap in a flower bed was strung on one of the walls. Across the same wall, led to his backyard, which just so happened to be a garden.

“(Y/N),” she turned yourself around to see Kenma standing behind her, holding what seemed to be a tea set on a silver tray. “Come on.” he said, walking into the room.

(Y/N) followed him and sat crossed-legged on the tatami mats, gazing at the garden the room was beside. She didn’t know why, but the garden certainly calmed her down. Still staring at the garden, she heard something being placed in front of her on the table. Kenma had placed one of the teacups that was on the tray he was carrying in front of her.

“Tea?”

Kenma nodded, as he held the ceramic teapot and poured some into her cup. “Chamomile tea. It’s to calm you down a bit, you were shaking a little in the car, and even when you were coming into the house.”

The girl had barely noticed it. (Y/N) bit the bottom of your lip due to habit before asking, “I didn’t think you’d be the type to be knowledgeable on tea.”

“Oh he isn’t sweetie,” a voice said from the direction of the garden. (Y/N) looked over to see an elderly woman sweeping the floors outside. “I saw him in the kitchen looking at the various teas we had. He ended up asking me what tea was the best to relieve one’s stress and anxiety.” the little old lady smiled, before sweeping away from the room.

When she looked back at Kenma, she could see him avoiding her eyes, a small tint of red could be seen on the tips of his ears. ‘How cute.’ she thought to herself. That elderly woman must have been Kenma’s caretaker.

“So,” (Y/N) started off after taking a sip of her tea. “If I wasn’t the person you said ‘hurt’ you, who were you talking about then Kenma?” she asked, as she recalled their earlier conversation before you were interrupted by that text message.

Kenma sighed, “I don’t like bringing this up,” he gazed into his tea cup. “But this happened a few months before I had met you.”

(Y/N) focused her attention on the blonde that was seated in front of her, as he started to tell his story.

“I had already made a name for myself in the business world. Sealing business deals, coming up with new concepts and ideas that no other businessman had thought of yet. I didn’t have a secretary yet, since I seemed to handle everything already, but Kuroo suggested I hire one thinking I’d become too busy to look for one later on. I trusted him on that, so I ended up hiring a woman around your age. Her name was Yui.”

She couldn’t remember if Kuroo or Kenma spoke of this Yui, but she noticed how tense Kenma got when he mentioned her name. “What did she do?”

He crossed his arms, and rested them on the table before continuing. “Yui played her role as my secretary to a T. She handled and scheduled my meetings within the first hour of her shift. She didn’t need any supervising when it came to typing any sort of documents I needed. Her papers were written excellently. She was the model secretary.”

“If she was the model secretary, why is she gone?”

“About three months into her position, she started to get closer to me. She would try to start up conversations with me. She would text me outside of office hours, inviting me out to dinner or drinks. I didn’t know what game she was playing at, and when I had asked her about it, the only thing she said was that she wanted us to be friends. I didn’t see a problem with that, so we went out a few times for lunch and dinner. I had started to talk to her more often, even video-calling her sometimes. We had our little inside jokes and banter that made my day. I started to develop feelings for Yui.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened at that. It sounded like Yui reciprocated Kenma’s feelings, so what went wrong?

“I was never the best when it came to dealing with my own feelings and emotions — you can ask Kuroo that — so I never acted on them. I didn’t wanna ruin the relationship I already had with Yui, so I just stayed quiet. I was perfectly fine with just being friends with her.”

Kenma’s mood started to turn grim, and (Y/N) could tell something bad had happened between the two.

“I had completely forgotten about a lunch Yui and I planned one day, because of the endless paperwork I had to go through. I was behind on a video for my youtube channel because of it, so I started to record a short one. It looked like Yui was waiting for a while at our usual restaurant, and when she tried calling me it had only gone to voicemail because I turned off my phone during the recording session. Yui came here looking for me. She told my caretaker that I had invited her over, and she walked in on me finishing up my recording. Just like you, she found out about Kodzuken.”

Another person found out about Kodzuken? And they were also a secretary for Kenma? ‘Huh, what are the odds.’ (Y/N) thought to herself.

“When she found out, Yui promised and said that she would keep it a secret. I trusted her words. On the way out, Kuroo stopped by and I introduced the two. A few weeks passed and I noticed that Yui had started to grow more distant. We started to talk less, she passed on any lunches or dinners I invited her too. I started to get confused, and hurt. I thought that we’d gotten pretty close. But it turns out that Yui was just playing me the whole time.”

(Y/N) and Kenma both finished their cups of tea, and she moved to pour both of them a second one. As she poured the tea in his cup (Y/N) asked, “How was she playing you?”

“I was heading towards my office, when Kuroo texted me saying that he was dropping off some stuff his father asked him to pass on to me. I noticed that Yui wasn’t at her desk, so I thought that she was just running late. Pretty dumb of me now that I think about it, since Yui was never late to a shift. I ended up walking in on Kuroo and Yui, who had her arms wrapped around his neck bringing him down to kiss her. The minute I opened the door, Kuroo pushed her off glaring at her. He passed by me and I already knew that Kuroo had no intention of kissing her. I asked Yui what she was doing, and instead of her kind smile, she wore a different expression. One that felt darker. Turns out that the Yui I thought I knew was just an act.”

Kenma recalled how he was feeling back then.

“I was so confused then, and Yui just laughed at me. When I asked her to explain what the hell she was doing, she just laughed at me. Apparently, she put on that nice girl facade to get closer to me. She never really wanted to be friends with me, nor did she want anything else to happen between us. She saw me as this young rich guy who had power in the business industry and thought she could have used that to her advantage. Turns out that Kuroo was more her type, and she thought that she could have won him over by asking him to team up with her to take over my business. Obviously, she didn’t know that Kuroo wanted nothing to do with the business industry. I told her that she was fired right on the spot, but she wouldn’t let me.”

“What?” (Y/N) asked. “What do you mean she wouldn’t let you fire her?”

“Exactly as it sounds. She threatened that if I fire her without giving her some sort of compensation, she would expose me as Kodzuken. I had just taken over as CEO, and even though I made a big name for myself, not everyone approved of me because of how young I was. I knew that if word got out that I was a Youtuber on the side, everyone would have said that I wasn’t focused on the business. I ended up paying Yui fifteen grand to keep her quiet about Kodzuken.”

Kenma’s eyes widened when he saw (Y/N) choke on the tea she was drinking. “(Y/N)!”

“I’m sorry, how much did you pay her Kenma?”

“Fifteen thousand.” (Y/N) stared at him. She couldn’t believe her ears when he told her that’s how much it took for Yui to stay silent.

“And she was quiet ever since?”

Kenma shook his head, “She started to bug me a few weeks back, but I told her that I didn’t care if Kodzuken’s secret identity got out. I already proved myself to be a good businessman and entrepreneur, if Kodzu got out, it wouldn’t have been the end of the world.”

(Y/N) didn’t know what to say after Kenma shared his story. Her thoughts were jumbling together going over his past once again, before her phone gave another buzz.

BZZT!

She grimaced when she heard the buzz, and lifted her phone to see yet another text message sent to her. (Y/N) didn’t expect to start getting these texts again. She placed her phone, face down on the table before staring straight into her cup, deep in thought.

“I told my story, now what’s going on with you (Y/N)?” Kenma questioned, watching her.

“Who keeps texting you?” (Y/N) stayed quiet, not answering him. Kenma opened his mouth to say something before (Y/N)’s phone buzzed again once more. Unlocking her phone, she barely got to read the newest text, before Kenma grabbed her phone out of her hands and read what was on her screen.

His eyes widened, “(Y/N)— these texts—”

“These weren’t the only messages I got,” she muttered. “I just deleted the others when they started coming up.”

Kenma couldn’t believe what he was reading. Why was (Y/N) getting these types of texts? He looked back up at his secretary, whose eyes started to get glassy. She sniffed, before wiping a tear that escaped the corner of her eye. “Guess it’s my turn huh?”

“You already know that I had a previous secretary position somewhere else. I told my friends I quit, but I didn’t exactly say why. You talked about how Yui was great at her job, well I guess I could say that I was the Yui of my company— minus the whole two faced thing— I actually worked hard to move my way up the employment ladder. I got along with my boss who was a sweet old man, just on the edge of retiring. He reminded me of my grandfather, so I was constantly in his office making sure he wasn’t over-working himself.”

Her eyes started to squint, brows furrowing as she recalled the next events that took place afterwards.

“Guess I started watching out for him too much, because rumors started to surface saying that I was sleeping with him so I could become the next CEO. When that was far from what I had wanted. Each time I walked into the room, all conversations quieted down, and hushed whispers followed. They were speaking as if I couldn’t hear them. They kept saying things like, ‘That’s the girl who’s sleeping with the boss’ ‘She thinks she can become CEO by giving herself up like that.’ It started to weigh me down.”

Kenma’s fist clenched at (Y/N)’s words. Those were her coworkers? Kenma guessed that none of them really got to know (Y/N) otherwise they wouldn’t have thought those things.

“I decided to quit once they started harassing me outside of work. I told my boss who wanted to do something about it, but I told him that saying anything would have made things worse. So, I packed up my things when I knew everyone was gone and left that place for good. I still check-up on my old boss from time to time though. I didn’t think that this harassment would start up again. It’s a shame that these people have no lives.”

“Stop that.” (Y/N) looked up at Kenma.

“Huh?”

“Stop doing that,” he glared at her. “You show how you're feeling for a quick second, before hiding them away again. Stop hiding them already.”

“Kenma— I’m fine—”

“No you’re not. You were about to break down in the car, you were shaking when you came into the house and you were tearing up again just now. Don’t say you’re fine when you’re not.”

“I don’t want to become a burden to anyone. They shouldn’t have to deal with my feelings and personal problems.” (Y/N) argued.

“This happened again back when we were at the beach house. When you didn’t tell anyone that you weren’t feeling well because you didn’t want to ruin the fun for everyone else.”

“I can’t help being so self-less.” (Y/N) huffed out. “Would you rather I just stop being self-less, and just not care about anyone else?”

“What— no!” Kenma let out a big sigh. “How can I ask you to stop being self-less when it’s one of the things that made me fall in lo—” Kenma stopped himself before saying anything else.

“Made you what Kenma?” the blonde kept his mouth shut, cursing himself in his head.

Everything started to become much more clear to her now. “So if what I heard was correct, the reason you got drunk…”

“When I saw that gossip account post a picture of Kuroo carrying you, and I got jealous.” Kenma muttered. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“Question is, why did you get jealous, Kenma?” (Y/N) poked at him. “Why did you seeing me in Kuroo’s arms get you that jealous, hm?”

“I’m not saying it.”

“Say it.”

“No.”

“Hm, you’ll say it again eventually.” (Y/N) chuckled. “By the way, I feel the same way”

The Youtuber looked at her, “What?”

“Anyways, now that your secret is out, what do you plan on doing?” (Y/N) smiled at him as she diverted the topic. But before Kenma had the chance to answer,

BAM!

(Y/N) and Kenma both flinched at the sound of the door being slammed open. The two looked up to see both Kuroo and Oikawa standing there. They were both wearing suits as they leaned against the doorframe. “Come on you two,” Oikawa sang. “We managed to get a press conference for Kenma so he could provide his statement and his story on everything that’s happening.”

“Oh yeah, sorry (Y/N) we overheard you telling your past—”

“I can’t believe my poor baby was accused of sleeping her way to the top! Do they have no shame?!” Oikawa interrupted.

“Alright, Mr. Dramatic calm down. (Y/N) you could probably set those ex-coworkers of yours straight considering your picture got taken off, with yours truly. Let’s go fix this mess that you two fell in.”

As Kuroo and Oikawa walked away from the door, Kenma and (Y/N) looked at each other.

“Well, what better way to end both of our problems than to face them head on?”

“Count me in.”

❝ TAGLIST❞

#mhsceo smau #haikyuu smau #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kenma smau #kozume kenma smau #admin kiri

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elliewritessometimes · 3 years

Text

IT’S @mattieswheelers BIRTHDAY!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVELY WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH

beCAUSE of this, myself and @notsomightymightytiger decided to steal tea leaf’s time travelling mattie au and create a whole entire fic with their ideas and also a design that @ari-is-anxious did a while back!! hope you enjoy aaaaaaa <3333 aLSO stabbies try and spot as many starboard references as you can heheheh

this can be read on ao3 here if you prefer the format :)

tw: swearing, murder (it’s minor and resolved tho jsgh), religion (nicco my love read with care), blood, i really hope i haven’t missed anything please do let me know if i missed anything

Mattie had always been able to time travel. For as long as she could remember, her walk-in wardrobe had been lined with silver metal and held no clothes at all. As a child, this made it all the more exciting, though as she grew older and actually started to want to own clothes, it became a little inconvenient. She supposed all great inventions came with some kind of sacrifice.

Her uncle had made the time machine as a gift when Mattie was born. Her parents, like any basic adults, assumed the wardrobe-sized box was simply a toy and had taken no interest in it. Mattie, from the age of about three when her curiosity had really set in, was the one who discovered that the machine was in fact a working portal and not just a children’s toy. Since then, she had been happily travelling time and space during the darkest hours of night.

(You may have entirely valid concerns about a three year old having full access to time travel - luckily, not just for Mattie’s safety but also that of the entire human race, her uncle had set what were effectively child locks on a lot of the controls. These were diminished the day that Mattie turned thirteen. Uncle Calvin had always been a little weird, but he certainly wasn’t heartless.)

Usually, Mattie’s time travel didn’t affect her life. Sure, it made for some pretty awkward conversations as Mattie spurted some knowledge which could never have been explained through a textbook, but those could often be blamed on watching too much Horrible Histories as a child (“Mattie, I swear to God, you’re so bageling British, and yet you’ve never been there, I don’t understand.” “Horrible Histories is a masterpiece! You’re just jealous that you’re too American to have seen it.” “Actual asshole of a child.” “Farrah-!”).

It was going well until Mattie’s freshman year at Giles Corey. And then three of her fellow highschoolers were murdered. And suddenly Mattie had a way to prevent that from happening.

In some stroke of luck, she passed out at the sleepover and didn’t find out about the murders until she was sitting in the back of a cop car, driving to her house to pick up her things. She remembered thinking how weird it was that she wasn’t being taken straight to the station, but brushed that away in favour of ‘going into her wardrobe to change out of her bloody clothes’.

The time machine was cold like it always was and that forced her out of her muddled state quickly enough. She thought back to the victims. Chess. Farrah. Clark. Snapping on her goggles, she pressed a button, whirled backwards through time and space, and appeared at the gate to Riley’s neighbour’s house.

She really wished that she had actually changed her outfit - the damp blood turned cold with the breeze and sent shivers up her spine. The smell perhaps or just her sudden appearance startled the neighbour’s dogs into a frenzy. A figure, Chess, unharmed and merely confused instead of terrified, stood up from Riley’s bench, calling into the darkness. Mattie’s breath caught in her throat. The second figure, knife glinting in the dim streetlight, slipped out of the back door. Their red hair shone in the reflection of the knife with a sick kind of beauty.

Mattie could have stopped them there, taken the knife from the assailant’s grasp, prevented the tragedy of the evening. But she didn’t. She just watched.

Three minutes later, after arriving back in her present time and pressing yet another button on the wall of her closet, she watched the same scene unfold in the bathroom with a much younger victim. Twenty minutes after that, the third attack. This one was different though, an accident.

Still a little desperate and overly conscious of the police officer standing guard outside of her bedroom, she reappeared in her wardrobe, putting on a jumper before turning back time a little further. She appeared in a gymnastics centre as a girl around Mattie’s age did wolf turns on a beam. A coach entered the scene from the sidelines as the girl stopped spinning, her distinctive plait falling still against her back. Something in Mattie ached at the sight of Chess so lively and innocent, willing to give up her life for her dream of succeeding in her sport. As the two wandered into a side room, picking up water with a smile, Mattie edged forwards, collecting soft gym mats as she went. Within minutes, the area surrounding the beam had been double layered with cushioning, and Mattie could only pray that her plan would work. She’d seen enough YouTube videos to know what happened next.

Chess emerged again with her coach, hopping back up onto the beam with practiced ease. Again, Mattie was forced to just watch as she went down into her wolf turn, then rose up, did a split leap across at least half of the beam, and jumped into a twist to land on the floor. It was a messy landing, the gymnast’s ankle caving in on itself, knee twisting unnaturally in the air, before coming down hard onto her side. But, unlike in the previous videos, there wasn’t a resounding crack, only a weak cry of pain as Chess stumbled back to her feet.

Mattie grinned despite herself as snippets of conversation drifted her way.

“-not broken, don’t worry-”

“The Olympics seem out of the picture…”

“Get her a drink to numb the pain! Yes, limeade’s perfect-!”

Mattie arrived in her room again with a whole plethora of new information just inserted into her mind like it had been there all along. There was no longer and never had been a police officer outside her door. Her shirt was clean, her head undamaged. Chess didn’t go to the Olympics, but still did gymnastics in her spare time as her knee made a full and quick recovery. Farrah wasn’t dropped. Riley, in some weird twist of fate, went to the same therapist as Mattie. Life was… good for the Giles Corey Tigers.

Across town, the sleepover was still going ahead as normal. From what weird memories she just gained, Mattie knew that the team was at a rocky patch, their personalities still clashing in any iteration of the evening. But, with some relief, she knew that it would never in this timeline be bad enough for murder to even be considered as an answer. Her phone buzzed. The lies came easily as she covered up her mysterious disappearance from the sleepover she should currently be at.

Reese (school): Where are you???

Mattieeeee: I went home :( not feeling good

Reese (school): :((( that sucks

Mattieeeee: Ikr. I think it was the ice cream.

Reese (school): I told the others

Reese (school): They all say get well soon apart from Kate and Cairo who actually agreed on something for once haha

Mattieeeee: What did they say skjghdjh

Reese (school): “Tolerate the lactose, Wheeler.”

In her short-but-actually-quite-long-given-all-the-time-travel life, Mattie had witnessed a number of key historic events (and had caused about 85% by some small accident, but that’s a story for another time). The one which ended up unveiling her secret to someone in her actual life occurred overnight one February. Or maybe July. Depends. Time is weird.

She stepped into a small room, luckily through the doorway and not awkwardly through the window, as done many times before. A man sat hunched over a desk by the window, dressed in brown and using a pen-but-not-really-a-pen to craft a page of writing. From Mattie’s extensive historical knowledge, it could have been anywhere from 1000 BC to the 16th century.

“Hello, excuse me,” she began, “But I’m a little lost.”

The man startled, his not-really-pen skidding across the page and leaving a trail of thick ink in its wake as he blinked at her in the doorway. “Who are you?” He seemed perplexed as to how a young girl was standing there, in the opening to his room, in clothing not of any time now or before.

Something that Mattie had realised after travelling not only to different times, but also to a vast number of different settings around the world, was that somehow, she was never stumped by a language barrier. Instead she was always able to fluently converse with those she met in what appeared to her as American English. It was really weird; she tried not to think about it too much or it made her head hurt. She’d also learnt that it was best not to explain her full situation to her companions, becoming accustomed to pulling the classic ‘I’m not here, you’re just dreaming’ excuse. So that was exactly the tactic she applied here. “A dream figure. You don’t need to be afraid.”

The man narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the paper and then back up to Mattie’s face. “That’s a good line.” He scribbled her words down onto a scrap piece of papyrus. “Maybe I can use that later.”

Mattie grinned, sensing her chance to fuck up history just a little bit. “What are you writing?”

“How the world came to be,” the man explained. “God.”

“Ah, of course. The Bible, huh?”

“Pardon?” The scribe locked eyes with Mattie for the first time, confusion etched clearly on his face. She shook her head in response, having learnt that it was hopeless trying to explain events of the future to people who could never even begin to imagine the future that she came from. Seemingly satisfied, the man continued. “As the vision you are, I wonder if you’ve been sent to answer my queries.”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

“I’m struggling for a name. Not for the book itself, but just for this chapter.”

Mattie smiled as wisely as she could. “What do you have so far?”

“‘Generational Crisis’. The chapter describes how our world came to be - the creation of natural elements, the first humans, the beginnings of emotion. ‘Generational’ as it shall be carried on for generations, and ‘crisis’ as it’s a huge event, a crisis for the higher powers.”

Mattie choked. Her mind imagined a world where the entry chapter to the Bible was named as so, and it was a world of chaos and highly differing language choices. “That is very wise, sir. I have one suggestion: how about shortening it? Make it snappier, more catchy. I’m thinking…” She paused, feigning deep thought, “‘Genesis.’”

The man gasped, scrawling her word down at the top of the papyrus. “Genius! Thank you, child. I should write your name in my finished book, to show my gratitude for your kindness.”

“Mattie, sir, Mattie Wheeler. It’s been lovely to meet you and see your studies.” Over the centuries, Mattie had learnt to leave those she met with some kind of reassurance as the humane aspect of her hobby. “Before I go, I may be a dream spirit, but I can assure you that the work you have done right now shall be greatly appreciated for thousands of years to come.”

“You really are a wonder, perhaps a child sent from the power above.”

Unthinking, she snorted, replying, “Oh, boy, you are not ready to hear about Jesus.”

“Jesus? You mean my sister’s husband? I do hear some curious rumours about the man…”

Mattie hid her laugh behind a hand. Of course, this was hundreds of years before Jesus Christ came to be thought of. “I know, right? Jesus? More like JeSUS.” The scribe didn’t reply, mind clearly tired of its confusion and instead turning back to something it knew well. He picked up his writing patterns again. Mattie turned away, back to the doorway. “I will leave you to your writing again. Sleep well.” Leaving a small vial of dissolved sleeping pills on the desk, she stepped out of the door.

The only class that Mattie knew she would see Eva in was Religion. They didn’t actually share the class, but Mattie’s Religion teacher was Eva’s form tutor and the older girl often used the classroom as a quieter study area for her free period. Not that Mattie would call a class of thirty sophomores particularly peaceful, but apparently she hadn’t heard the noise of the senior study area, you genuinely don’t understand, last week Jacob Thomas tried to make toast using the sun on a desk and then, bam, the entire of senior year are creating chants about sun bread, it was so weird, Mattie, I transferred to a school of crackheads.

After her travel to the 7th century AD, Mattie sparked a sudden interest in her Religion classes. Eva, being the older sister that she was, watched closely as the sophomore stayed behind after class to search the Bible for something in particular.

“What’re you looking for?”

“Nothing!” Mattie didn’t look up from fervently turning the pages.

“Well, that’s a fucking lie.” Eva perched on the side of a desk, sliding across to snatch the book out of the younger girl’s hands. “Why the hell are you looking at what is essentially the movie credits for the Bible???”

Eva watched as Mattie bit her lip, eyes darting around the empty classroom. She thought for a long moment, visibly debating points in her head, before leaning over the top of the book to run her finger down a list of names. About a third of the way down the page, she stopped. Eva’s eyes followed her finger as it drew a circle around a certain name. Matte Wheyler

“See. I was looking for that.”

Eva didn’t say anything for a while. Mattie waited with baited breath as Eva’s brain tried to make sense of what they saw. “Mattie Wheeler, what the bagel.” It didn’t bother to even be a question.

“It’s a really long story.” Mattie slumped onto the desk as well. “Hey, did you know that ‘Genesis’ would have originally been called ‘Generational Crisis’ if it wasn’t for me?”

After a glance at both of their timetables, they decided that their next lessons (biology and latin respectively) were worth missing. Instead, they stayed seated on a desk in the Religion classroom, as Mattie explained in detail how her name came to be in the Bible. It was refreshing to finally spill her secret after fifteen years of complete silence, and Mattie wondered vaguely in the back of her mind if one day Eva might be able to share in her time travelling adventures. That might take a little more explaining though, because Eva sure did have a lot of questions.

“So, you don’t change anything?”

“Not anything major. Like, I can’t stop Hitler or anything, that would change too big an event. Little things, however, like names and stuff, it’s fun to mess around with. Ever wondered why the Italian city, Pisa, has its name? I delivered pizza to the guys who were kind of like the government at the time of its naming. Hence, the Leaning Tower of Pizza.”

Eva cackled. “Wait, what?! God, dude, that’s nuts. What the fuck.”

“What can I say, all I really want in life is a little bit of chaos and also mozzarella sticks.”

Mattieeeee sent a photo.

evanescence: is that??? abraham lincoln????

Mattieeeee: Abraham Lincoln was an otter.

evanescence: how so?

Mattieeeee: Point one: look at him.

Mattieeeee: Point two: no seriously. Look at him.

evanescence: oh my god

evanescence: i cannot believe you have a literal selfie with abraham lincoln that’s fucking wild

Mattieeeee: Perks of the job :D

evanescence: literally hire me i want a selfie with cleopatra

farrah o’satanic ritual: yall i got out of the shower like an hour ago and i still haven’t changed

Imposter: What can I say, bath robes are in fashion rn

farrah o’satanic ritual: ive told you before clark stop pretending you know how to dress

Mattieeeee: Farrah did you not die in the shower?

katherine: ????mattie???????

farrah o’satanic ritual: no?? i didn’t

SmileyRiley: dang it

katherine: riLEY-

caicrow: riley i thought we’d moved on from murder

Imposter: Plot twist: Mattie was the murderer all along

katherine: CLARK-

Mattieeeee: oops-

It wasn't meant to happen, she swore up and down it was a mistake. A true and honest accident. And it kinda was? I mean Mattie hadn’t intended for the scaffolding on the new tower being constructed in Pisa to wobble, she’d already fucked up Pisa once in her career, but… Well, that's what she got for letting loose Giles and Corey (her occasional time travelling companions, who also happened to be cats) in the middle of a Italian city in 1252. She could have sworn the catnip was safely concealed in one of the pockets inside her jacket (which was filled with all sorts of trinkets from her travels in the space-time continuum), yet somehow the two had still gotten into it. She guessed that's what she got for not hydrating-feel-greating and eating-to-defeating.

An old citizen eyed her suspiciously, taking in her struggle with the two cats. Or maybe she was just more focused on Mattie’s goggles - she doubted anyone in 13th century Pisa had seen such a bold fashion statement before. The tower continued to lean in the background.

Finally, Giles and Corey settled down, each in a pocket of her trench coat. Mattie breathed a sigh of relief, which only got halfway out of her before she was sucking it back in as the old lady from across the street began to approach her.

“Young lady.”

Mattie smiled sheepishly. “Hello, ma’am. Is everything alright?”

The lady looked mildly amused. “I couldn’t help but notice your two cats going mysteriously close to the tower before it started collapsing. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. My cats are very well behaved.” Giles gave a resounding yelp at exactly the wrong time. A hiss from Corey echoed from the opposite pocket.

“Well,” the lady grinned, “If that’s the case, why don’t you leave the animals with me? You seem fairly preoccupied with the tower - perhaps you can try and assist its reconstruction?” She held out a hand.

Mattie thought for a moment and then handed across the two cats. “Thank you ever so much, ma’am. I’ll try and be quick.” The woman nodded and Mattie sped across the square to the drastically swaying tower.

When she arrived back at the woman’s table, there was a second lady in animated conversation with her. As Mattie approached, she stood up to take her leave, pressing a kiss to the first lady’s hair as she left. Something was definitely fruity there.

“All fixed!”

“I’m glad.” The woman nudged the cats back to their owner, looking intensely over Mattie’s shoulder to the stabilised tower. “It certainly looks sturdier.”

“I should hope so.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes,” she said, staring pointedly at an area on the structure, “I think about crabs.”

“Oh?” Mattie tilted her head. “Do you?”

“Yes. And often when I think about crabs, I think that they shouldn’t be in Pisa, and they most definitely should not be crawling over the tower.”

Mattie gasped and followed her gaze, muttering curses under her breath. “I didn’t realise I’d brought a whole crab with me! I thought I’d taken the sea life off the rocks!”

The woman chuckled. “You seem to be a strange character. Child, where on Earth did you find not only rocks large enough to support a tower, but also a live crab in Pisa?”

Accepting her fate, Mattie decided to tell the truth. “They’re from Egypt.” At the woman’s questioning look, she expanded, “I’m a traveller of sorts.”

“Oh. Well, child, you’re a gift of a traveller. Brightened my day. Italy these days is far too serious. Maybe we should put more crabs on the leaning tower, huh?”

Tucking her cats back into their respective pockets, Mattie allowed herself to laugh. “Maybe we should.” With a nod and a smile, she wandered off, eagerly awaiting her portal.

“Why were you in Egypt anyway?” Eva asked as Mattie recounted yet another of her time-travel-gone-wrong experiences.

“Library of Alexandria.”

“Oh, yeah, because that explains so much.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “It was 48 BC, Caesar was burning shit, this random Roman dude set fire to the library.” She pulled a book out of her backpack. “I saved this and stashed away a few of the slabs of rock. And apparently a crab.”

Eva took the book in awe. “Jesus Christ… This thing is, like, thousands of years old…”

“I know, right? Weird.” She watched as Eva flicked through the pages, tracing her finger over certain words or illustrations. “But it was such a beautiful library, I couldn’t let it just burn. So, I retaliated. Burnt the house of the soldier who set the original flame.”

“Mattie!”

She shrugged. “Setting someone’s house on fire is a survival skill.”

“Oh my God.”

“I would have done something more dramatic, but I had to get home. I had a cake which would need to come out of the oven.”

Eva laughed, the sound echoing around the empty classroom. They were skiving class again, this time PE, the one class they had which coincidentally fell at the same time for both year groups. “How are you so normal in school, but so badass when you time travel?”

“I dunno. All I can say is that cake and spite are my only motivators.”

“You’re like a superhero. ‘Time Travelling Mattie: The Only One Who Can Lead A Dual Life Successfully’!!!”

Mattie blushed, shrugging. She definitely needed to take Eva with her one day. A superhero duo. “Okay, that name needs some work. How about: ‘Sanchez And Wheeler, The Ultimate Time Travelling Duo’?”

“I think I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?”

Eva nodded, shaking her hand like they were signing a business contract. “Yeah.”

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

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Different - Adam Sackler (pt. 5)

OMG thank you so much for all the kind words and love you’ve showed to this series, you made me so happy! as i said, this story sits close to my heart so i’m very happy that so many of you enjoyed it! this is officially the last part of this series so thank you for reading, but i think i will surely write more about Sackler bc im just OBSESSED with him. so follow me or ask me to put you on my Adam taglist if you’d like to read more from me!

series summary: Hannah lets you move in with her and Adam as you are her second cousin and in need of a place to live. Your relationship with Adam starts rocky, but things soon seem to be taking a turn.

pairing: Adam Sackler x Reader

❗️ WARNING: SMUT!❗️

word count: 5k

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

masterlist

If you had to specify the worst period in your life, you’d point to the three months that followed that one hell of a day, without hesitation. You never in your life would have thought you’d end up this hurt, because you somehow always thought you’d have Adam. But you didn’t, because you decided to push him away and even though it broke you in every possible way, you still told yourself it was the right decision to make. The only one you thought you’d made in a while.

He tried to call you hundreds of times for a week after everything that has happened, but you declined all of his calls, and if he left you a voicemail, you just deleted it without even listening, because you knew if you heard his voice that would just make it even harder. You wanted to call him a lot of times, when you were questioning if you’ve made the right decision, your fingers lingered over his contact in your phone several times, but you never called.

For obvious reasons Hannah broke all contact with you and you couldn’t blame her. You deserved everything you got from her and maybe even more. Her words burnt into your mind and you found yourself repeating them in your thoughts quite often, as if your consciousness wanted you to remember how horrible of a person you are. Not that it wasn’t true, to be honest.

It took you three months to somewhat settle down and be able to continue with your everydays after everything that has happened. But it doesn’t mean you forgot any of it. That void Adam left in you was still there, you just learned to ignore it and pretend like you don’t miss him every day of your life.

Tyler quit after the incident with you, being the clever grown man that he is, so at least you had one less thing to worry about. But your days started to blur into one big mess. It took you long to actually try to pull yourself out of this slumber-like state. What really helped you is that you started taking yoga classes. Twice a week you took one hour to yourself, to connect with yourself and do something for your own good.

There’s a juice bar near the studio where you go and you are heading there right now as well, dreaming about a freshly pressed green juice. Walking in you are welcomed by the tiny bells above the door and the sound brings a smile to your face as you stand in line.

When you finally get your juice and pay for it turning around you look for an empty table where you can peacefully read through your emails until you finish your juice, but you stop breathing for a second when your eyes meet a familiar gaze.

“Hannah,” you breathe out as she is looking right back at you from a table in the corner. She has her phone in her hands and a sandwich with a red juice on the table.

“Want to sit?” she offers and for a moment you feel like this is a trap. “Come on, I’m not gonna scream at you I promise,” she chuckles taking her bag away from the empty chair at the table and you take the seat shyly.

“Thank you. I didn’t know you come here.”

“I don’t. I was just in the neighborhood and got hungry,” she shrugs looking down at her half eaten sandwich.

There is a long, awkward silence between the two of you and you have no idea what you should say. The last time you saw her she was basically cursing you out for stealing her boyfriend, but now she seems cool with being around you, which is quite surprising to you.

“So, it’s been long since we last saw each other, huh?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a thousand things on your mind that you want to say, but none of them really comes out. So then you say that one thing that obviously needs to be said. “Hannah, I’m so sorry for everything then went down. I don’t know what has gotten into me, I honestly didn’t want to hurt you, that was never my intention.”

“I know,” she nods with a warm smile and you are more than surprised by her reaction.

“You do?”

“Yeah,” she chuckles. “Look I’m not saying that what you did was right and that I wasn’t supposed to be mad at you, because it was pretty fucked up, I hope you see that. But I lashed out on you a little too hard and not even for the right reason. I mean, when Adam accidentally dropped that you two have kissed, my mind went into chaos pretty fast.”

“That’s the normal reaction to finding out such thing.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t mad because you kissed. I mean, kissing is not even that big of a deal, I have kissed Elijah several times when I was dating other men. Now I know that he is gay, but you get the point, right?”

You just nod, thinking you are following her trail of thoughts though you’re not sure where she is heading with it.

“I was hurt that you two had feelings, I’ll admit that. I wasn’t expecting it to happen, but I’m mature enough to know that it’s not really something you have control over. I mean, I couldn’t control my feelings when Adam and I were just casually sleeping together and I fell for him. I didn’t mean that to happen, but it did!” she chuckles and you crack a smile as well. “Listen,” she sighs laying her hands out on the table. “I’m sorry for calling you disgusting, that was a little… too over the top.”

“Honestly, I think you had every right,” you sigh shaking your head.

“No,” she sighs. “The main reason why I was mad was because… I wasn’t the one who pulled the plug.”

You stare at her for a few moments, confused by what she meant by those words.

“I’m sorry?”

“Yeah, you heard it right. I wanted to be the one to break up with Adam and it bothered me that I ended up being dumped. It hurt my ego, because I was very sure I’d be the one to just end it and walk away like this badass, independent woman, but my breakup plan didn’t go as planned. When I went home that day with the pure intention of breaking up with him we quickly got into a fight and Adam just blurted it out, that he has feelings for you and that you already kissed and he wants to break up, right before I could say it so he took my chance. I didn’t get to be the one who ended it and it bothered me way more than it should have.”

“Hannah…”

“I’m sorry for being a bitch, it was really unnecessary. It still doesn’t change the fact that you fucked my boyfriend,” she adds pointing at you.

“Oh, I didn’t fuck him,” you shyly correct her and genuine surprise shows on her face.

“Really? Because I thought Adam just didn’t want to make me angrier and that’s why he said you just kissed.”

“No. When the kiss happened I felt so ashamed that I told him that nothing can happen until you and him are not officially done. I know it doesn’t make the whole situation better, but I wasn’t gonna be that girl who sleeps with someone else’s boyfriend.”

“Huh,” she huffs to herself, rearranging her whole viewing of what has happened. “Okay, this makes it a little better, still fucked up, but not that much.”

“Good to know. Not that it changes anything, but… yeah.”

“So you really haven’t talked to Adam since then,” she figures from the way you look.

“Did you?”

“I did,” she nods and you raise your eyebrows at her. This conversation is full of surprises. “We met about a month ago at Ray’s birthday. At first we were awkwardly avoiding each other, but then he actually came up to me and apologized.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. Following that, we had a nice talk and I can really tell the guy is suffering.”

“What?” you whisper, feeling your heart immediately breaking.

“He didn’t take it well that you shut him out. And I’m not just saying this because this is what I think. He straight up told me. He told me all about how he hasn’t felt like himself ever since you didn’t let him into your place that night.”

“He told you about that?” you glance away from her. You weren’t expecting her to know so many details.

“Yeah. He really thinks he ruined you.”

“Ruined me?”

“Y/N, Adam is wired differently. He took it like he was to blame for everything and that you blame him for how everything turned out to be.”

“I’m blaming myself, not him.”

“I told him that this is probably what you think, but he would never believe it if it’s not coming from you.”

You sit there in silence, because you don’t know what you could say. You feel horrible knowing Adam has been suffering since your parting, but you still haven’t changed your mind. There’s no way Adam and you could ever make it work between the two of you, you could never do that to Hannah.

“I know what you are thinking,” Hannah speaks up pulling you out of your thoughts. “You’re thinking that you can’t be with Adam because it’s not right.”

“This is the truth. I did enough harm with my stupidity.”

“I wouldn’t mind if you got together with him.” “What?” you look at her with wide eyes. Is this a trap?

“Honestly, I’m over it. Despite everything that happened, I love you and I obviously love Adam in some way and it hurts me to see both of you like this. If it’s my blessing that’s holding you back, you have it.”

“But do you actually mean it?”

“I genuinely do. I’m working on being less selfish, something I’ve been told to be quite a lot lately and I think this is a right step towards that. I don’t really have a real reason to bring up why I shouldn’t let you be happy. It would be an egoistic move from me to watch you both suffer when I could easily help. I was over Adam when it all happened, we distanced way before that, this whole thing hurt me in a different way that has nothing to do with you or him. Would it be strange at first? Of course, but I’ve seen and been through stranger things in my life, so I’m not surprised anymore.”

This conversation has truly taken some surprising turns and you would have never thought that by the end of the day you’d have such a relief on the one thing that’s been weighing down on you for so long.

The two of you stay there in the juice bar for another hour or so, just talking and reconnecting, smoothing everything out that’s been building up in yourself through the months spent apart. She brings you the change you couldn’t give yourself and it finally pushes you out of this hell of a circle you’ve been running in for too long.

It takes you an entire week to build your courage up to face Adam. When you leave to his place that evening you’re not even sure if he still lives there, but you decide to take the chance and if it turns out that he has moved, you’ll take it as a sign that you weren’t supposed to meet him.

As you stand at the door silently, you wonder if he is on the other side. If he looks the same or if something has changed on him. Did he get a haircut? Did he maybe shave? Does he even want to see you? The questions keep flowing in and out of you until you just stop thinking and force yourself to knock on the door.

You hear shuffling from inside and then the door flies open and there he is, standing right in front of you in a pair of dark jeans and grey t-shirt, staring down at you with the most surprised look you’ve ever seen on his handsome face.

“Hey,” you shyly greet him with a small smile.

“Hey. Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I uhh—I wanted to talk to you. Is it not a good time for you?” you ask suddenly feeling like you are bothering him, after all, you just showed up unannounced, he might have plans or company over. Your stomach churns at the thought of the latter.

“No! Come in!” he shakes his head realizing he hasn’t even invited you in. He closes the door behind you and running ahead he collects some abandoned clothes from the floor and couch so you can sit down. You just smile at him as he throws them into his bedroom before joining you.

“So what’s up?”

“I… I met Hannah the other day.”

“Mm,” he hums, curiously waiting for the rest of the story.

“We talked about a lot of things and we kind of reconciled which was very nice and needed. And she told me about things I didn’t know, the reason why she lashed out so hard on me a-and that she met you a while ago.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other at Ray’s birthday,” he nods confirming the information you got from her.

“She said that you didn’t take well what happened… between us.” You glance at him and his gaze is just so intense, it’s making you feel a lot more anxious than you already are.

“I mean… Yeah, I’m not gonna lie, it’s been pretty fucked up for me.”

“I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For… making you believe that I was blaming you for everything. It was never true, I blamed myself for what happened. I thought that I failed not just Hannah but you as well and that I deserve to be left alone and suffer the consequences of my own actions.”

“Fuck, Y/N, you know we were in this together, why would you blame it all on yourself?” he sighs, frustrated to find out about your feelings.

“Why would you blame it all on yourself?” you repeat his words, feeling like it’s relevant to ask the same thing from him. “We both made mistakes.”

“Yeah,” he nods pressing his lips together into a thin line.

“I’m sorry for not letting you in that night, but I really thought I don’t deserve the smallest happy thing in my life after hearing Hannah lash out on me.”

“You were really driving me crazy. You didn’t even give me a chance to actually talk to you, just shut me out right away.”

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do to change the past,” you say chuckling lightly. He nods in agreement. “Hannah told me some other things too.”

“Like what?”

“That she doesn’t want either of us to stay miserable and if she is the only person standing between us she is giving us her blessing.”

Adam sucks on his breath as the conversation just took a sudden turn he was hoping to happen, but didn’t think it would really.

“So… What does this mean?” he nervously asks and you find it adorable how this huge man, full of muscle and masculinity can look like the cutest creature on Earth.

“Adam, I’m sorry for the way I reacted back then, but I had a lot of time to think and my conversation with Hannah really put things into their place.”

“Alright,” he nods.

“And I think that… If you still want to, we can… give it a try. Give us a try,” you finally say and you see his eyes brightening up immediately, as the corners of his mouth curl up.

“Is this for real? You’re not just fucking with me, right?” he asks gasping and you can’t help but chuckle at his genuine reaction.

“I’m not fucking with you, Adam,” you say shaking your head.

You watch him let his head fall back as his fits fly into the air.

“Fuck yes!” he happily shouts before quickly bouncing back and cupping your face in his hands he kisses you the way he has imagined so many times since the first time your lips touched.

You let the sensation take over your whole body as your hands grip onto his broad shoulders while his hands slide down to your waist and he gently pulls you until you are sitting on his lap, knees on each sides of his, bodies pressed together.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes out, burying his face into your neck as you hold him tight, fingers laced through his hair, just taking the moment in, embracing every emotion as it is, letting them flowing through your body, right into him.

The heat of the moment quickly turns into something sentimental and moving, everything crashing down on you at once and you just let yourself experience it the way it comes to you.

“I really thought I lost you forever,” he mumbles against your skin, placing soft kisses below your skin. “Swear to God if you dare to do it again, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,” he chuckles making you laugh as well while the damn tears start forming in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out lifting his head and brushing his hair out of his face you just stare into his eyes, those beautiful, hazel eyes you’ve missed so much. “But I’m here now.”

“Yes you are,” he grins before kissing you again.

His lips tug on yours, taking his time with you, while his hands run up and down on your body, exploring every bit of it, but he doesn’t move further. He doesn’t try to take your clothes off or push it and you find it very comforting and securing that he still remembers the things you talked about months ago. But you feel like you are more than comfortable with him to take this next step.

“Adam,” you mumble against his lips, your hands sliding down to his stomach where you grab the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah?”

“You can… You can go for it.”

Stopping he leans back so he can look into your eyes, looking for any sign that tells him he shouldn’t, but you just smile at him shyly.

“Are you sure? Because I’m completely fine with doing nothing, just… lying in bed and being with you.”

“I’m completely sure,” you say pecking his lips shortly. He seems uncertain as you pull his shirt up, but he holds his arms up and lets you undress him, tossing the shirt to the side before laying your palms out on his chest.

Then slowly but surely he gets into action. His hands reach under your thighs and he stands up with you in his arms, carrying you into his bedroom and laying you down to his bed, getting on top of you. His large hands fumble with the small buttons of your shirt, but you reach down to help him and a moment later the shirt is gone and he is pulling your pants down before undoing his own jeans.

You feel secure and comfortable with him, but it’s still a challenging moment regarding of your general anxiety. When he looks down at your body that’s only covered by your lingerie you feel insecure about it and he quickly realizes it.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out as he gets on top of you, kissing you sweetly. “Fucking gorgeous,” he smiles before kissing every inch of your face, making you giggle.

Your lips reconnect and soon the rest of your clothes are gone, leaving both of you naked under his sheets.

“Just tell me when something doesn’t feel good, okay?” he asks after he rolls a condom on and you nervously nod. “Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he assures you seeing how nervous you are.

“I want to, I’m just… I don’t want it to be disappointing to you,” you say quietly.

“That’s impossible. You can never disappoint me, I could come just by looking at you naked,” he jokes making you laugh.

“Oh, so how come you haven’t finished yet?” you ask smirking at him.

“I’m really struggling to hold myself back. You can’t fucking imagine,” he grins kissing you gently. “Don’t think about me, think about yourself. I’m pretty fucking sure what feels good for you will feel amazing to me as well.”

You just nod your head licking your lips as he reaches between you and him and positions himself to your center. He looks you in the eyes one last time, as if he is asking for the final permission and when you nod, brushing his hair out of his forehead, with one slow but confident push he is inside you.

You gasp at the feeling, given the fact that it’s been so long since you’ve been with someone and he is pretty gifted when it comes to his length. But he lets you take your time to adjust to the feeling, staying still and peppering your face with gentle kisses.

“Y-You can move,” you tell him quietly.

“Sure?”

“Yeah,” you nod and moving your hands to the back of his neck you let out a moan as he slowly starts rocking his hips back and forth.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growls into your neck.

At first it feels a little uncomfortable and strange, but you start to loosen up and do what Adam told you; just focus on yourself. Pulling your legs up you let him hit a way better angle, making you moan as he thrusts inside you and you slowly start to find what feels the best for you.

“You good?” he asks breathing heavily and you just nod, biting into your bottom lip as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Do you want to switch it up?”

“Like… me on top?” you ask unsurely.

“It’s an option.” “Um, yeah,” you say, trying to keep your confidence as he wraps an arm around you and carefully flips the two of you over, so you are now sitting on him. You start moving your hips, not too sure what you should really be doing.

“Relax, just do whatever feels good for you,” he comforts you, his hands holding onto your hips as he gently starts guiding you, giving you a direction to start.

It takes a few seconds to finally find what you enjoy the most and when you do, you just go for it.

“Yes, fuck!” he moans, his head sinking into the pillow. Reaching up his hands cup your breasts as you buck your hips up and down, taking up the pace that feels just right.

“Adam,” you moan his name, hands on his chest as you keep moving, feeling your orgasm building up inside you.

“Yeah, you’re doing so fucking great,” he groans, thrusting his hips up matching your rhythm and you whimper from the feeling.

He pushes himself up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around your body, your hands on his bare shoulders as you just keep moving and panting, your cheek pressing against his. Turning he kisses your jawline, one hand sliding down to your ass, the other one up into your hair at the back of your head.

“Fuck,” he growls and you know he is close, but so as you.

You pick your pace up, desperate for release, you let your head fall back and his lips meet the soft skin on your neck, kissing down on your throat and the moment his fingers dig into your skin at your ribcage you explode.

“Fuck!” you gasp, falling out of your rhythm as your orgasm washes over your body. You hear Adam grunting as he thrusts a couple more times before he comes as well.

Your panting fills the silence in the room in the next few seconds as you come back down from your high, eyes turning back to Adam who is already looking at you in awe.

“What?” you shyly ask.

“And you thought you would disappoint,” he grins kissing your shoulder. “You fucking… sex goddess.”

“Stop!” you chuckle, leaning down you kiss him softly, the raw passion is gone and replaced by a deeper, sensational feeling.

“You don’t regret it, right?” he asks a little later when the two of you are lying next to each other on your sides, facing each other, his hand playing with yours on the pillow.

“No, of course not,” you smile as he laces his fingers together with yours and pulling your hand to his lips he places a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

“Alright. Good.”

“This is so crazy,” you exhale softly, watching him in awe.

“What’s crazy?”

“How this all turned out to be. So different from what I imagined.”

“What did you originally imagine?” he asks with a curious smirk on his full lips.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” you admit chuckling. “But not this for sure.”

His hand reaches out and he pulls you closer to him, legs tangling together as he kisses the tip of your nose, making you smile.

“Well, this is our life now. You are stuck with me.”

“What a tragedy,” you tease him, earning him to squeeze your hip gently. “The greatest tragedy of all times,” you add making him chuckle.

Making yourself comfortable in his arms you feel your eyelids getting heavier with each blink. Kissing his lips softly one more time you let them close and stay closed as Adam kisses your forehead.

“Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up,” he whispers and you open your eyes looking at him, seeing that need for validation in his eyes.

“I’m here to stay, don’t worry,” you reassure him before you let your eyes close again and this time, you slowly drift to sleep, feeling his fingers gently caressing your side until the very last moment you’re awake.

You smile to yourself upon hearing the front door open and close and when you see Adam walk in a moment later you get up from your bed to greet your boyfriend the proper way on his birthday.

“Hey,” you smile at him kissing his lips softly.

“Hi, I missed you,” he grins giving your ass a gentle squeeze before letting go of you and walking over to your bed he throws himself onto it with a tired sigh.

“How was your day?”

“Just the usual, nothing extra. The guys on set got me a cupcake,” he chuckles to himself.

“That’s cute,” you say crawling onto the bed, thinking about how adorable he would look like with a tiny cupcake compared to his size.

Reaching over to your nightstand you grab the white envelope you’ve had prepared for him, his name written on it in cursive to make it look fancy.

“Happy birthday,” you hand it to him with an excited smile.

“Y/N, I told you no gifts!” he looks at you with narrow eyes. He really did say he doesn’t want anything for his birthday, just to be with you, the only person he is interested in as he said. But you just couldn’t contain yourself and you had a funny idea about his gift.

“I know, but it’s not really a gift. It’s just… something I owe you.”

“Is this a pair of your panties?” he jokes and you just shake your head at him laughing.

“Just open it!”

He gives you a puzzled look as he opens the envelope and looks inside. He pulls out the twenty and five dollar bills with an even more confused look as he holds them up while you just giggle to yourself.

“What is this supposed to be?”

“This is the twenty-five bucks you paid me when we went out with Hannah. I felt like I should pay you back.”

“But why?”

“Because… I would rather not have you paying for a moment in our relationship that was kind of significant.”

“We really bonded that night, huh?” he chuckles placing a hand on your thigh as he puts the money and the envelope away. “Did you think we would end up here back then?”

“Not then. But I was already having thoughts about you.”

“Me too,” he admits smiling.

It’s kind of crazy thinking back at that day now, two months into your relationship with him, it all feels so surreal. You’ve definitely come a long way from ignoring each other in the apartment to being so madly in love.

Leaning closer he kisses you softly, his hand holding your chin tenderly.

“I love you,” he whispers and a wide smile stretches across your face. It’s not the first time he said it, but every time feels like the first, making your heart flip in your chest, completely whipped for this tall, weird but so amazing man you get to call your boyfriend.

“I love you too,” you mumble back before he grabs you by your waist and a moment later you are lying on the mattress, him on top of you, kissing down on your neck.

“Babe?” he asks stopping at your chest, looking up at you from under his dark eyelashes.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask for one thing for my birthday?”

“Sure,” you smile down at him, curious about what he wants.

“I want to fuck you on the kitchen counter,” he bluntly states, and you just chuckle, combing his hair with your fingers.

Rolling off the bed you just walk over to the kitchen counter pushing the boxes and plates to the side before hopping onto the top and crossing your leg seductively, smirking at him while he is still on your bed, watching you completely amazed by you.

“Well, happy birthday to you, big boy,” you say in a low tone and it drives him crazy immediately. Jumping off the bed he rushes over to you, uncrossing your legs so he can stand between your knees.

“Best fucking birthday ever,” he grins before pressing his lips to yours.

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groundzerobakugo · 5 years

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there’s a reason they’re called crushes // k. bakugou

gender in this imagine will be female. if you wish for me to create this with male or genderneutral pronouns please send a message my way! i would be happy to help!

word count: no idea bc my computer’s being a butt

...

you sat with your head propped up in your palm, elbow resting on the desk, dreamy look in your eyes as you stared at the blond sitting at the front of the room. luckily, you sat in the back, just behind deku and in front of yaororozu. no one embarrassing would catch you in the act.

you could only imagine what it would be like to date the strongest boy in your class; strong arms holding you close, his dickish exterior fading into something caring but only around you, crimson eyes that melted at the sight of you. eating lunch with him and talking freely with the intimidating blond.

a sigh left your lips; that would never happen. for one, bakugou would never like you back, and two, even if he did, you’d be too shy to confess and he’d be too stubborn. however, the blond was too busy becoming the number one hero to ever think the same as you.

ashido slammed a hand on your desk, and you startled two feet into the air.

“wh-what happened?!” you yelped, noticing as everyone had began to file out of the classroom.

the pink girl grinned. “you were daydreaming again, huh? what about? a boy...?” she teased.

a blush dusted across your cheeks. “n-no, never. i—“ you noticed bakugou’s crimson eyes slide your way for just a millisecond. midoriya casting a glance as well.

ashido may not have had the best grades, but if it ever came to nosing around into who-liked-who, she could get the highest grade in class. “never?”

“sh-shut up,” you grumbled.

“you’re totally in love with him, aren’t you?!”

the accusation rang loud throughout the class, and you jumped up from your seat, shaky hands rushing to cover her mouth as your fidgeting eyes made sure no one had overheard. but, you two were the only ones left in class.

still, an even deeper blush rose to your cheeks. “any louder and someone would hear you!”

ashido rolled her eyes. “so... any plans on confessing?”

you stood from your desk with a huff and shake of your head. “no. pretty sure bakugou doesn’t even think about stuff like that. he’s, well, he’s bakugou. you don’t confess to—”

her eyes widened. “it’s bakugou?!” she shouted in the hallways, passing glances cast your way.

“shh!” you hissed. “i don’t want bakugou to know, let alone the whole damn school!”

“and here i thought you were staring at midoriya,” she mumbled. “but! no difference.”

you turned to ashido just outside the school’s front doors, stopping her just outside the shoe lockers. “do not breathe a word of this to anyone. i... even if i can’t confess to bakugou, i’d rather keep it to myself and suffer in silence. he’s busy with his own stuff. please, mina-kun, just... don’t tell anyone.”

and you stormed off to the training gyms.

...

it was a saturday night at the dorms, most every classmate deciding to stay in the safety of yuuei than go home that weekend. that, and even bakugou on the other. it confused you as to why he decided to stay in the dorms for the weekend, as most often he went home. but he was sat down in the common room with a book in his lap, kaminari, kirishima, and sero playing a game on the tv in front of them.

why did he stay...? you wondered, staring at him from your spot on the floor, the rest of class 1a’s girls surrounding you.

the blond sensed your eyes on him, and he looked your way with a scowl. you jumped and stared down at your hands, blush dusted across your cheeks. you’d been caught in the act staring at him!

ashido had looked over at just the perfect moment, and a devilish grin spread across her face. “hey, bakugou!” she called and stood up from her spot, and you stared at her gaping. just what the hell did she think she was doing?!

said boy glared at her as she approached. “the fuck do you want, pinky?”

she shrugged. “nothing really. i was just wondering, do you like any of the girls in our class?”

“the hell is that supposed to mean?! i don’t have time for some stupid romance shit,” he growled, the faintest of pinks dusting his cheeks. “if i’m going to be the number one hero, i can’t afford any dumb distractions.”

you bit your lip in anxiety. oh kami, help you, don’t let ashido say something!

her black and gold eyes glanced at you. “what if i told you someone in our class likes you? and that she’s cute too, just too shy to confess.”

"hah?!" he slammed his book shut, crimson eyes narrowed. “didn’t you just hear me, damn raccoon eyes? i don’t have time for that shit!”

you gulped threw a lump in your throat and stood abruptly, chair scraping and a certain heaviness to your limbs. the rest of the class’s eyes turned towards you, but you kept your eyes to the ground as you walked out of the room.

“wait, (name)-chan—” ashido called after you, but she faded away as the elevator closed.

even though you knew you never had a chance, even though you knew bakugou would say those words, even though it was only a stupid daydream of yours, you still felt your heart shatter and drop to the floor, as at least with only daydreaming, there was still an impossible sliver of a chance.

and ashido had just assured you there was never a chance.

the elevator stopped at your floor, the button you’d originally pressed, but you hesitated upon stepping out. ashido would come straight to your door, as well as the rest of the girls, and possibly even midoriya and kirishima. you didn’t want them to ask questions, and you knew that class-1a had some of the brightest people, you knew they had already figured out it was you who had a crush on bakugou.

so you stepped back and hit the button for the rooftop. the doors closed once more, and your back hit the wall.

a wave of tears spilled over your waterline, emotions filling you to the brim. but... why were you crying when you knew this was the reality? bakugou couldn’t ever return anyone’s feelings, not when he was so busy with his coursework and hero training. and bakugou especially couldn’t return your feelings, he didn’t even know who you were, didn’t know your quirk until the sports festival when he had to face you, never even bothered giving you a rude nickname. kami, why did crushes hurt so much?

no. there was no why. crushes were called crushes for a reason. because they hurt you when they inevitably didn’t work out. because they ached you when the person you were crushing on never returned your feelings. because they crushed you.

once more, the elevator doors opened, and the brisk fall air sent goosebumps down your arms. it was only the start of your second year, how were you supposed to deal with the embarrassment of bakugou and the rest of your class knowing you liked the fiery blond? you shivered, both at the thought and from the cold.

the rooftop was the one safe place you had in yuuei, where you knew no one would go. you felt free with the wind dancing around you, and the energy always felt so positive being so high in the sky. you stood above everyone else.

you sat near the edge with your knees pulled up, arms pulling them tightly to your chest as you let tears silently flow down your cheeks.

“damn you mina,” you cried out, but it was a mere whisper, voice cracking.

you knew you’d never see bakugou look at you with love in his eyes. you knew you’d never see bakugou with a smile reserved just for you. you knew you’d never have bakugou pull you in tight after a long day of training. it was all just a fantasy daydream in your head that you knew wouldn’t work out.

you’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed the elevator doors open.

“so this is where you fucking hide,” a familiar voice commented, footsteps quickly approaching.

eyes wide, you uncurled immediately, shocked. “ba-bakugou, what are you—”

he shrugged, standing over you. “raccoon eyes is looking for you.”

you huffed. “i don’t care. she shouldn’t have said anything, at all.” you were silent for a second before you looked up at him. “and i know that now you’re up here after i pretty much indirectly confessed, you’re here to tell me to fuck off and stick my feelings up my ass.”

“how are you so damn sure?” he said.

“how am i—” your voice went up a pitch, and you stood, pointing an accusatory finger his way. “you just said you don’t have any damn time for shitty romance. so, that’s how i’m damn sure, baka!”

he growled under his breath. “i’m not... i’m not good at these types of things. the whole, confession and crushes and dating shit. but, fucking hell, (name), i can’t get you out of my damn head.”

you blinked with wide eyes. “wh-what?”

he groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “i fucking... i don’t know. i don’t know why i said all that shit. i guess it was fucking pinky putting me on the damn spot like that, that i fucking, i don’t know. i just, i fucking like your stupid ass for some damn reason.”

a fresh batch of tears glistened in your eyes. “you... you’re not lying, right?”

bakugou scoffed at the accusation. “you think a damn future number one hero’s gonna lie over something so ridiculously stupid?”

a small smile spread across your lips. “so you really like me back, you return my feelings?”

the blond’s cheeked bloomed in a cherry red. “yeah, i guess i do, dipshit. i... i really don’t know what fucking comes next though. think this shit means we’re dating?”

“yeah, i guess so,” you replied, a blush heating your own cheeks.

you’d have to thank ashido the next time you saw her, you thought to yourself, as bakugou hesitantly and awkwardly placed a single hand on your head, telling you it was time to head back.

...

more short but cute shit, but hey!! three updates in three days????? who am i????????

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rorykillmore · 5 years

Text

so this is a birthday present for @numinousbones that also doubles as like. a general... congratulatory thing, i guess, because they’ve gotten through a lot this year and i wanted to do something nice for the end of their semester.

it also happened bc we haven’t rped together in ages now but we HAVE wistfully talked about a few ideas and dynamics and this crossover thing just kinda popped into my head. it will never rival the legendary transformers/grey’s anatomy masterpiece but ENJOY IT ANYWAY

storm... i know life often seems like. A Lot right now for way too many reasons, but i have seen you persevere through so much and i will never stop admiring that about you. right now it might feel like there’s no end in sight but you’re so talented and so smart and so passionate and!! one day that’s all gonna come together and feel less like “persevering” and more like. living the life you deserve. okay this is getting way too sappy but i just felt like maybe you needed some sappy in your life, ANYWAYS. happy birthday!!! <3

Ivan Becke is dead before Villanelle can get to him.

It would actually be kind of cool, if the idea of competition didn’t piss her off so much. His throat has been cut, and the wound is neat and deliberate but a little too broad to be from the kitchen knife on the ground a few feet away.

Is it someone’s deliberate attempt at deception? It might work on a less trained eye, but she muses idly on why the other assassin would need to cover up their method if they were going to let him bleed out anyway.

She pouts down at the pale, lifeless face petulantly. “Look at you. You’re a mess. See what happens when you don’t wait for me?”

As if she’d been planning on leaving him much better off.

Sighing, Villanelle begins to straighten up. Agitation and pent up energy cling to her like static electricity. She hates being denied a kill when she’s already built it up this much, it’s like --

“They told me to leave a mess. I’m usually much cleaner.” A voice Villanelle doesn’t recognize echoes from -- not behind her, but in front of her, and she doesn’t know how she could have missed the figure in the shadows of the apartment, the pair of unnatural red eyes suddenly glowing back at her. “Something about making an impression.”

Villanelle wonders whether this is one of those times - so frequent, in her line of work - when it’s better to shoot first and ask questions later. But what the mysterious assailant just said sinks in, and her curiosity gets the better of her. She straightens fully. “Were you trying to show off for me?” she asks, mockingly flattered.

“...Hardly.” The eerie gaze never leaves her. “Or at least, strictly in the most professional sense.”

The figure ripples into full view, and Villanelle can’t him but start at it -- him? Openly. The other assassin is not a person, but a machine. A robot. He’s more cat-like than anything, although he’s much closer to the size of a car than a cat, and now Villanelle is certain there is no way she could have missed him unless he came equipped with some kind of... invisibility trick.

There are a lot of questions she could ask, right in this moment. A normal person would have probably been sputtering with hundreds of them. But Villanelle knows she would not be the Twelve’s favorite if she was not so extraordinary with things like this: compartmentalizing shock, confusion, fear, no matter how unprecedented.

So what she says instead is, “Wow. Wasn’t sending you kind of overkill?”

The robot-cat-assassin stares at her, unimpressed. “Trust me. He wasn’t my usual variety of target.”

“Wait! Let me guess.” Villanelle hardly lets him finish. “You’re here from the future. Your target was the father of some heroic asshole who’s going to lead a revolution, and you had to come all the way back here to stop him because just killing him as a baby would have been too easy, or something.”

She gets no response this time, but she swears something dubious flickers in the other assassin’s eyes. “Seriously? You really need to be more genre-savvy.”

“Right,” the cat says. “You know, I don’t know how you can be half as effective as I’m told you are. You never seem to shut up.”

“I’m just trying to make conversation! Getting to know the people in your field is always so awkward.” She leans back on her heels, eyeing him speculatively, wondering what might be her best chance at taking him down if he proves to be a threat. She doesn’t have any weapons on her currently that seem as though they’d be remotely effective against a giant metal predator. Perhaps she could try electrocuting him, but that would require some luck and some very quick thinking. “Did the Twelve send you? They’ve really been holding out on me.”

Some kind of bizarre, technological experiment on their part would be... well, maybe not the strangest thing Villanelle has ever heard, but up there. The other option is that someone else sent him, in which case her life is almost definitely in danger. She watches him carefully despite her casual outward demeanor.

“Not exactly.” The cat’s tail flicks slowly to one side, but he has yet to make a hostile move. “But it turns out that my superiors are interested in yours. Insofar as my superiors can be interested in yours.”

“Are they robots too?” Villanelle asks, taking his dig at the Twelve in stride.

He sniffs disdainfully. “We’re not robots. We’re Cybertronians. Aliens, as you would call them.”

“Oh. Okay.” Villanelle guesses that isn’t really much weirder than assassin robots from the future. Or the secret, mechanical army the Twelve had suddenly been building in her head. But a thought suddenly strikes her, and she leans in just a little, quirking a brow. “Are you invading?”

The thought of the Twelve getting wrapped up in something like this is mildly hilarious. Villanelle can’t think of any other reason aliens would take such an immediate interest in them, though.

“It’s more complicated than that,” the cat says impatiently, which Villanelle is pretty sure is just bullshit. He probably just doesn’t want to admit that whatever devious scheme his superiors have conducted has been done a hundred times in science fiction movies before. “We’re in the middle of a war, and we could use your organization’s information, and your resources. And no doubt you could use ours.”

There’s definite disdain dripping from his words, this time. Villanelle can’t help but grin a little. “Oh, you hate this.”

“I’m not particularly fond of working with humans.”

“You’re so much better than us. So much older, so much more technologically advanced... right?”

“Something like that.”

“And yet... you and I do the same work.”

He eyes her coolly for a long moment. “I do mine better.”

Villanelle laughs. She wanted to hate him - she really did - but he’s making it difficult for her. “So why did you do this?” She gestures to the corpse on the floor. “Why bother making an impression on an inferior species?”

Something rumbles in his throat, like a growl. “Your handler seems to think that getting your attention is the only way to keep you manageable.”

Ah. That does sound like something Konstantin would say. But why --

“...And if we’re going to be working together, I had to think of something that wouldn’t necessitate immediately mauling you.”

Just like that, Villanelle’s smile drops. Working together?

“I work alone,” she states with simple finality.

“You think I like it any more than you do?” he snaps irritably. “Orders are orders. I hear you don’t like following them, but if you make this more difficult than it has to be - draw it out, make things complicated - I really will kill you.”

Inwardly, Villanelle seethes, though more of her anger is directed at Konstantin than her new coworker. He knows she doesn’t play well with others. What is he doing? What are the Twelve doing?

“It sounds like you know all about me already,” Villanelle notes with a clear voice and a smile that is now forced. “What about you? Do I even get to know your name?”

He watches her for awhile without answering, and Villanelle suddenly starts to feel that he can see through her. She doesn’t like it. “Ravage,” he says finally.

“Huh. Good name.”

“You may be obnoxious, but I know you’re also talented. For a human.” Ravage gives the half-compliment begrudgingly, seeming to relent a little, and Villanelle can’t help but feel suspicious of that too. “Don’t cause problems, and maybe we’ll even work halfway decently together. Then this will be over more quickly for both of us.”

Villanelle is already thinking of a million and one ways she can cause problems. But she sighs. If nothing else, she’s curious about Ravage, the way he works, the way he kills. Maybe that will keep her entertained, for a little while.

At least until she gets her next chance to complain to Konstantin.

“Okay, partner!” she says at last, deliberately too cheery. “What do you say we get out of here before this body starts to smell?”

“Technically, you all smell,” Ravage tells her. She shoots him an offended look.

“I do not smell. Badly, at least.”

“You’ve sprayed something chemical all over yourself. It almost drowns out the reek of your emotions.”

The idea that he can somehow smell her feelings brings Villanelle up short.

Maybe she’ll start overdoing the perfume, from now on.

“Hey, you’re not going to do that invisibility thing again when we go outside, right?” she asks over her shoulder, heading for the fire escape and already filing away her prickling concerns.

“Yes, actually,” Ravage responds dryly. “Seeing as keeping a low profile would be ideal for both of us.”

“But then it’ll just look like I am talking to myself,” Villanelle complains. “I will look crazy!”

“I don’t think you need my help with that.”

Villanelle laughs again, because he hasn’t seen anything yet. Maybe while she’s trying to learn everything she can from Ravage, she’ll teach him a thing or two as well.

#this turned out more like. introductory than anything but im actually really FEELIN this au so maybe ill write more of it at some point?#what could possibly go wrong with a twelve/decepticon teamup???#also i just decided to set this pre-killing eve canon for the potential of ravage having to suffer through the show's bullshit #hope you have fun reading this storm <3

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animakupo · 6 years

Text

The Way to a Man’s Heart (Ignis x Reader)

wow i kept putting this off for some reason, but hello cooking mama iggy!!!! yay!!!! lowkey unconfident about this bc i don’t think i executed it well but uh haha stab me

will this be expanded into a two-part story? or will it remain a one shot? whO KNowS

(Also, thanks so much for all the love for Shortcake vs. Beefcake ;___; I didn’t consider it to be one of my better works, so for it to have received this much love has been such a pleasant surprise huhu thanks ebribadi wah)

word count: 3.5k+, fluff + self-deprecation because wow i relate so much to self-hate, Prompto likes to think he’s Cupid haha sure keep telling urself that boye

‘Take cooking lessons, they said.’ You stared helplessly at your burnt attempt at a chicken cordon bleu. ‘It’ll be fun, they said.’ Discreetly shoving the charred poultry down the garbage, you sighed longingly at everyone else’s pristine and mouth-watering dishes. ‘How is it fun when everything I make is inedible?’

Boy, if any of your classmates from high school saw you now, they might possibly throw a fit at the sight of you. Or maybe they’d look at you in awe.

After all, you were never really one for the kitchen.

Sure, you loved food — probably more than the average girl, even — but all you could do was devour dishes that were presented to you. For you to actually prepare something meant for human consumption was easily a recipe for disaster.

Which was why you were here, taking a culinary class in hopes of acquiring even a smidgen of an everyday man’s cooking skill.

But, let’s be real here: you could have lived the rest of your days perfectly content with being a failure in the kitchen. It’s not like you had any ambitions of becoming a chef or anything.

The true reason behind your ongoing efforts in trying to learn how to cook lies in a sole secret ingredient — one that is integral in your current woes as of late: Ignis Scientia.

Now, you were never really one to go to such great heights just to impress someone — let alone a member of the opposite sex — but Ignis was different. Here was a man in an entirely other league of his own. He was refined, patient, kind-hearted, and one of the most well-mannered men you ever had the blessed opportunity to encounter.

Not only did Ignis have the charms to go with his elegant face, he was also incredibly skilled — almost famously so, at least amongst his peers — in the kitchen. You’d probably go so far as to say his concoctions could rival — even best — the foods provided by the royal chef.

(Not that you knew what His Majesty and his son would have for their daily meals. You just believed that Prince Noctis requesting for a certain pastry from Ignis — and Ignis alone — was telling enough of the Royal Adviser’s skills in the kitchen.)

So here you were, struggling to cook up something in order to catch Ignis’ attention and impress him for once. Unfortunately, despite your wholesome intentions, your efforts were simply failing to bear any fruit.

‘I might end up burning my apartment down if I keep up with this,’ you thought glumly, already packing away your belongings as your cooking teacher gave you an unimpressed look for yet another cooking disaster this week.

‘Don’t worry.’ You gave your instructor a nod in farewell. ‘This is the last you’ll see of me in this blasted class.’

The very idea of taking up culinary lessons as a step towards getting Ignis to look your way was actually a suggestion from your friend Prompto. On one of your rare mutual breaks — yours from assisting other staff members with admin work and archiving documents for the royal family, his from Crowsguard training with Cor the Immortal — the two of you had stumbled upon Ignis himself, who was well on his way to a meeting with the King and the rest of his council.

“Hey, Specs!” Prompto greeted cheerfully with a wave of his hand.

“Good to see you, Prompto,” replied the bespectacled man. Ignis turned to you and offered a curt nod of acknowledgement.

All you could do was reciprocate his nod, already feeling your cheeks burn — a usual occurrence whenever you were near Ignis. While this was not the first time you had encountered the Royal Adviser in the flesh — as you would sometimes assist him with research and paperwork when necessary — being around him often made you feel shy and flustered. It was a miracle that you had yet to pass out from the effect he had on you.

“Where are you off to?” Prompto inquired.

Adjusting his grip on the small stack of folders in his arms, Ignis answered, “I’ve a meeting with His Majesty. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I best be on my way.”

It was only when Ignis turned a corner did you release a breath you hadn’t known you were even keeping. ‘He’s so handsome,’ you thought to yourself, clutching at your chest from how fast your heart raced around him.

Prompto looked at you oddly. Although some would think him to be a bit more on the naive side, the young blond liked to think that he was actually much more observant than the people around him would give him credit for. Perhaps that was why he detected your odd behavior in front of his friend.

Or maybe your crush on Ignis was just that obvious.

In any case, Prompto took notice of how tense you had become in the presence of his friend, as he placed a hand on your shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. “Hey, you alright? I know Iggy might seem a little intimidating, but he’s actually a fun person to be around once you get to know him.”

“N-no, I…” you mumbled, keeping your eyes on the floor. “I know. He’s just- I’m…”

“Haha, you sound just like me when I tried asking this girl from school on a date!”

“Y-yeah, hah…”

“There’s no need to be so shy around good ol’ Iggy!” Prompto gave you a friendly pat on the back. “He might look like a strict professor on the outside, but on the inside, he’s just like you and me.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Well, except we’re plebes next to him, but you know. I’m sure you’d like him a lot once you got to know him better.”

“I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON IGNIS SCIENTIA!”

Okay, you were definitely obvious about your crush on the Royal Adviser.

“Woah, what?”

Your face was probably burning brighter than the sun by now. How could you have suddenly blurted — practically yelled loud enough for the entire Citadel to hear, oh gods —your deep, dark secret? Your head must have been in the clouds while Prompto was talking, and in your carelessness, you somehow interpreted his words as an accusation of harboring feelings for Ignis.

Which… well, cat’s outta the bag now, then.

“I-I…!” The embarrassment becoming too much to bear, you hid behind your hands, mumbling into your palms, “I didn’t say anything!”

“Honey, you most definitely said something, and it was a little along the lines of-“

“SHUT UP!” You slapped your hands over Prompto’s mouth in a frenzy. “Someone might hear!”

Pulling your hands away from his face, he replied, “With how loud you were, I wouldn’t be surprised if even Noct heard you from his bedroom.”

You groaned. “Prompto, please don’t say anything to Ignis about this.”

Your friend’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Why not? I’m sure Iggy would be really flattered. Plus, you guys would make a really cute couple!”

“That’s really nice of you to say and all, but I’d rather keep my feelings to myself, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, but I’m a great matchmaker!”

You snorted. “Sure, Cupid.”

“I am!” Prompto whined. “Stop laughing! I’ll get you two together if it’s the last thing I do!”

“No, Prompto, please don’t,” you said. “It’s really nothing against you, I promise. It’s just…” You tucked a hair behind your ear, staring longingly at the direction Ignis had disappeared to. “I wouldn’t want to pressure Ignis into anything by informing him of my… c-crush on him.” Crush? What a schoolgirl term. Surely you were beyond this already, right?

“You wouldn’t-“

Completely caught up in your thoughts, you ignored Prompto and continued. “Confessing would just make things awkward, especially since I know he doesn’t reciprocate my feelings. He already has so much on his plate as it is, so I don’t want to make things uncomfortable between us if I ever do decide to confess.” As an afterthought, you added, “Which I won’t, mind you. It’ll never happen.”

This had always been your mindset right off the bat. Why would you ever tell Ignis how you truly felt about him? It would just be another burden for him to bear, and that was the last thing you ever wanted to be to him.

“But,” Prompto said after a few seconds of silence, “are you really content with never telling him how you feel? Ever?”

When you really thought about it… of course you wouldn’t be content. However, living in silence seemed like a much safer option than getting into messy feelings and affections. Plus, unrequited feelings were definitely a more tolerable reality than the bitter sting of rejection.

You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. His duty to Prince Noctis will always be his top priority, and I respect that. So even if I did happen to confess, I really don’t think it’d take me anywhere with Ignis.”

Amidst your wistful admissions was a frown on Prompto’s face that you failed to perceive. “Well…” he trailed off. “Well, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t at least try to get Iggy to look at you the way you look at him!”

“What are you playing at, Prompto?”

“What if you just… try to woo Iggy a little, (Name)?”

“Woo him?” You gave Prompto an incredulous look. “As if I even have a chance with him to begin with!”

“But you do!” Prompto insisted. “I promise that you do! We just need a little somethin’-somethin’ to tip the scales and get the ball rolling.”

“Okay, I’ll humor you. What, pray tell, would your plan of action be to,”—you made quotation marks with your fingers—“‘get the ball rolling’?”

Prompto hummed thoughtfully before suddenly snapping his fingers. “I know exactly what you can do!” Giving you a proud smile, he declared, “You can cook him something!”

You stared at Prompto for a solid few seconds, causing him to falter slightly in his expression. “Or bake him a cake or something…?” he added unsurely.

“You’re joking, right?”

“N-No! I’m serious!”

“Prompto.”

“What? Why are you looking like me like that?”

“I can’t cook to save a life.”

“C’mon, everyone can cook!”

“Not me,” you deadpanned. “I’m serious. I once burned a scrambled egg.”

“That’s not so bad-“

“The heat was on low and I found eggshells in it.”

“Okay, maybe you’ll need a little help. But that’s what I’m here for!”

You raised a brow. “You’re going to help me cook Ignis something?”

“Well, n-no…” Prompto chuckled nervously at the disapproving look you were wearing. “But! I know where you can take cooking classes!”

“Prompto, I know you mean well and all, but cooking classes? I’m pretty swamped with work as it is.”

“You can go after work! They have evening sessions that run an hour a day. It even includes baking lessons!”

“I can’t possibly cook anything for him. Ignis has the taste buds of a god!”

“All the more reason to make him something he’s never had before!” Prompto countered. “You know what they say: ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’ I betcha Iggy’ll love whatever you make him!” He was not going to let this go until you conceded, was he?

“I dunno…”

“C’mon (Name), don’t you want to show him what you have to offer? Make him see the wife material that you are?”

The wiggling of Prompto’s brows made you chuckle. “I’m hardly wife material.”

“And she’s so humble, too!” he cheered, pulling another giggle out of you. “It’ll be fun, (Name)!”

“Why are you so adamant about this, anyway?”

The grin on Prompto’s face softened into a warm smile. “I just want to see my friends happy, that’s all.”

If Prompto hadn’t won you over before, he definitely did now. This boy was truly an angel.

So that’s how you found yourself struggling to whip up a dish or two after work everyday. Everyday you came to class without fail, but also without fail was the stench of an actual failed dish after each session. Despite this, the encouraging looks Prompto always sent you whenever you chanced upon each other always inspired you to keep on going. Though you had called it quits on the cooking classes, it didn’t mean you couldn’t practice on your own, right?

It took a while, but the day finally came: you managed to make a seemingly decent platter of cupcakes. Baking was different from cooking, sure, but at least you finally made something even remotely edible. You had heeded Prompto’s suggestion of baking a cake, except you opted for a much simpler and smaller scale.

It only took about a month of daily trials and errors, but finally, you were able to produce a simple batch without killing yourself in the process. You even managed to put some pink frosting for a cute touch!

‘I’ll let Prompto taste test this first!’ you thought excitedly, scurrying towards where you knew your blond friend trained with the Marshal.

In your hurry to find Prompto, you failed to notice a presence making their way towards your direction. As you turned a corner, you accidentally bumped into the one and only Ignis himself — the very reason for the platter of dessert in your hands.

Alas, good fortune just wasn’t on your side today, though. Typically, bumping into Ignis would be a blessing in disguise. Today, however, it brought more distress than elation, because you lost your grip on the platter, causing the cupcakes to tumble to the ground with a generous smother of pink icing all over the Royal Adviser.

“Ignis!” you exclaimed, hands trembling at the mess you made. “I’m so- I’m sorry!”

You couldn’t read his face as he kept a stoic mask even after your collision. Ignis was often hard to decipher even on a regular day, but this time around, you were certain that he was unhappy with your stumble. His usually pristine clothes were now ruined by pink frosting, and his shoes were covered with the broken remnants of all your hard work.

Your hard work. You had slaved over this batch — the one you deemed the most acceptable out of the many others you had attempted — only for it to crumble before you. You didn’t even get to have Ignis try it.

Helplessly, you stared at what was meant to be a gift of affection for the man in front of you. Somehow, the sight of the disintegrated pastries brought forth a deep-seated frustration within you that served as a painful reminder that this wasn’t going to work out.

Who were you kidding? As if Ignis would ever go for someone like you. Baking or cooking or whatever, you would never amount to even half the person he deserved to be with. No matter how much effort you put into your work, everything will still fall apart — even something with Ignis.

‘What’s the point?’ you thought, downcast and discouraged. ‘No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be good enough for him anyway. I’ll still fail.’

You forced yourself to meet Ignis’ eyes in order offer another heartfelt apology, but the sigh that escaped his lips only triggered the appearance of tears in your own eyes. Now you knew for sure that he was definitely upset with you.

With your blurred eyesight thanks to your tears, you missed the look of what appeared to be panic on Ignis’ face. Bowing your head to avoid looking at him any further, you mumbled a pathetic “sorry, excuse me” before making yourself scarce.

Ignis was quite the sight when Prompto found him just a minute later, frozen in place and covered in pink.

‘I am an IDIOT,’ you thought miserably as you dragged yourself to work the next day. After your disappearing act on Ignis, you pretty much beat yourself up for reacting so brashly at your own slip-up. ‘Crying over a few measly cupcakes? Then running away? REALLY? Nice one, drama queen.’

“I bet the cupcakes weren’t even that good,” you grumbled, placing your things on your work desk and settling into your seat. You began to shuffle through some files that were left neglected just a day before, still a bit tense at your recollection of yesterday’s unfortunate collision.

“On the contrary,” a voice in front of you said, “they were actually quite delectable.”

Your eyes widened. Lifting your head from your papers, you found Ignis in front of you. He offered a charming smile to go with his nod.

“I-Ignis!” You shot up in surprise. “Wha… What are you doing here?”

“Am I not allowed to greet a friend good morning?”

“No! I-I mean…” You cleared your throat as you nervously wrung your fingers together. “You’re allowed! You can do whatever you want! Um, I, I mean… Good morning…?

He chuckled softly. “Good morning.”

It was then did you realize that Ignis was holding a small box in his hand. Pointing at the object, you inquired, “What’s that?”

“This?” He held up the box before gently placing it on your desk. “This is a gift for you.”

“M-Me?” you repeated dumbly. Ignis Scientia — THE Ignis Scientia — had a gift for you?!

Ignis adjusted the glasses on his face before continuing. “It is an apology of sorts for causing yesterday’s mishap.”

“Th-that was all my fault!” you sputtered. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Ignis! I ruined your clothes and then I ran away like a crybaby…”

“I’d like to apologize for the tears, then,” he countered.

“No!” you blurted anxiously. “You weren’t at fault! It was all me!”

“Regardless, you would do me a great honor in accepting this gift.”

You stared at the box. “Really?”

“Most certainly,” he assured. “Please, go ahead.”

Upon his insistence, you gingerly picked up the box, feeling a moderate weight inside. When you opened it, you were pleasantly surprised to find a cupcake — one that was identical to the ones you made yesterday, pink frosting and all.

Taking advantage of your silence, Ignis said, “Yesterday was quite the tragedy, wouldn’t you agree? What a waste it was for all the pastries to go spoilt in such a manner. I at least managed to try the icing, since there was an… abundance of it, as you know.”

You blushed, recalling just how much frosting you managed to get on him yesterday. Ignis let out a small smile, as if assuring you that he meant no harm with his comment. “I tried to replicate the taste to the best of my abilities, though I hope you can forgive me for taking the liberty to give my own take on the batter, seeing as I had no basis for what you made yourself.”

“Tha-that’s fine,” you breathed, awe-struck that Ignis had even bothered to make you anything, let alone try to copy your own take on a lame cupcake. Although you were squirming a bit under his gaze, you managed to offer a sincere smile. “Thank you.”

Ignis nodded in response. “I must say,” he uttered, “the icing reminded me of you a bit.”

“It did?” you asked, a little absent-minded at the fact that not only was Ignis making casual conversation with you, he had actually made something for you — and in the same fashion as what you had intended to give to him, at that! What exactly was happening here?!

“Yes,” he affirmed. “It was rather… sweet.”

“O-oh!” You could feel your face burning up at this point.

“I mean that in the highest of praises possible,” Ignis added. “If you’d like, perhaps we could discuss your recipe over a cup of Ebony?”

You gaped. Did he just…? Was he offering…? IS HE ASKING YOU OUT ON A DATE?! “Y-ye-yeah! Sure!” you squeaked, belatedly realizing how stupid you must have looked with your mouth wide open in such an un-ladlylike manner.

“Excellent.” The smile on Ignis’ face grew saccharine, and it made you flush to the tips of your ears. “Will you be free tomorrow afternoon, then?”

You did a quick mental scan of your schedule. All free. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dazed, all you could do was wave at Ignis as he made his exit. Did that really just happen? Are you really going to have coffee with Ignis tomorrow? Sure, he didn’t really specify outright that it was a date, but…

‘Wait till Prompto hears about this!’

“Well?”

“She seemed to be delighted at the prospect of Ebony tomorrow.”

“I told you!”

“Shouldn’t you meet with the Marshal for training now?”

“Aw c’mon, Iggy! You gotta spill all the juicy details!”

“My lips are sealed.”

“After everything I did to get you two together?”

“You did no such thing.”

“Iggy! I am hurt!”

“I’m merely jesting. Thank you, Prompto.”

“You’re very welcome! I told you she liked you back!”

“I’ll be sure to express my gratitude to you in the form of some Meldacio Meat Pie.”

“This is why I love you, Iggy.”

“I’m afraid your feelings remain one-sided.”

“Of course they are. You’ve always had your eye on her, after all.”

Silence.

“Iggy, is that…? Are you blushing?!”

“Ahem.”

“L-Lemme get this shot!”

“Excuse me, I must make my leave now.”

“Iggy, hold up! IGGY!”

#animakupo writing #ignis x reader #ignis scientia x reader #ignis #ignis scientia #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy xv fanfiction #final fantasy 15 fanfiction #ffxv fanfiction #ff15 fanfiction #final fantasy xv fic #final fantasy 15 fic #ff15 fic #ffxv fic #final fantasy xv reader insert #final fantasy 15 reader insert #ffxv reader insert #ff15 reader insert

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othernecessarythings · 4 years

Text

let’s go

and btw it it’s weird that i just tell my whole life story like this where no one will ever read it, and it’s kinda cringe that i’m writing in english for no one but myself, but whatever here we go

TWENTY ONE PILOTS

* implicit demand for proof: are you more of a skeptic or a believer?

skeptic, i’m no good at believing or being optimistic smh

* fall away: are you afraid of heights?

not really

* the pantaloon: describe your favourite shirt.

ooh i’m right now is it probably my big, deep blue nike hoodie? idk it just fits to everything

* addict with a pen: write a four-line poem about whatever’s on your mind.

please reopen the schools (wait four-line? i read four-worded huh)

* friend, please: what is the nicest thing a friend has ever done for you?

my friend gave me a decorated photo album, it’s one of my most priced possessions (does that expression even mean that? i mean it’s very important to me anyways)

* march to the sea: you are given one day to live, with unlimited travel capabilities in that time. where do you choose to die?

probably here in my hometown? i’d travel as much as possible, but i’d still like to die where i belong

* johnny boy: have you ever risen to an occasion in a way of which you are proud?

hm probably, but i can’t really come up with any

* oh, ms. believer: is your favourite season the same now as when you were younger?

yeah, i’ve always preferred spring/summer

* air catcher: give your most unpopular/controversial opinion about love.

that it’s no rush trying to find love? everyone’s like it’s okay if your first love is in your 40’s, but i feel kinda stressed out that i haven’t fallen in love yet

* trapdoor: when have you felt invisible?

um the whole winter of being 14? but like invisible for everybody else, painfully visible for myself while i simultaneously shut off and didn’t feel a single emotion for like half a year,, yeah aha ha good times

* a car, a torch, a death: favourite way to travel? least favourite?

favorite: train, i always have a special and exciting goal if i travel

least favorite: car i guess, it’s just so mundane and boring

* taxi cab: tell us about the most memorable journey you’ve taken.

i’ve been on lots on journeys, but they’re all like typical family trips, so allow me to get poetical here, i guess the most memorable journey has been my own? like how i have evolved and developed to where i am today? hmm

* before you start your day: name your favourite part of your morning routine.

getting to check others private snap stories and to see what has happened during the night for them

* isle of flightless birds: what do you think is the most beautiful part of nature?

ah i love love nature and the complexity of it and how everything is connected, but like one specific thing? sunsets. it may be basic, but i’m a real slut for sunsets

REGIONAL AT BEST

* slowtown: where is your sanctuary?

i live by the sea, so i’ve got a few safe places near the shore that’s my favorites,, and like my best friends house, i always feel at home there too :,)

* glowing eyes: you inherit the powers and status of one well-known superhero. which do you choose, and why?

um i’m not that much for superheroes but like shuri from black panther is really cool and super smart, so that would be awesome!

* kitchen sink: what is something that only makes sense to you?

i’ve never mentioned this to anyone before, but i kinda think in shapes? ye not gonna elaborate on that one, but i feel like that’s not really explainable to anyone but myself

* anathema: what is a word most people don’t know? give its definition.

okay the swedish word fika,, like i’m very confused by how you non swedish guys live your lives without that word?? it basically means to “sit down, eat something sweet or more of a snack, have a cup of coffee or similar, and just talk and enjoy time together” and it’s very useable and necessary in my vocabulary

another word i thought of was the swedish word dygn. the translation is a day, but like we have a word for day too. day=dag. but a dygn is more like the 24 h the day lasts, while the dag only lasts during daytime,, idk it sounds complicated but it really confuse me sometimes when someone says a day, cause idk if they mean like the whole dygn, 24 h, or only daytime,, okay rant over

* lovely: how often do you express affection?

sigh i’m really bad at it and i should show the people i love how much i appreciate them more often, but when i do is it usually in form of words and thoughts,, i’m not a touchy person, not the one to give lots of gifts either, but i like to show it in words

* ruby: has a stranger ever permanently impacted your life?

hm no not really a stranger? but i mean some celebrities (*ahem tyler joseph*) have really changed my life, and i guess i’m just a total stranger to them but it feels like i know them personally for me

* be concerned: name an issue you believe should receive more attention.

all the species doing extinct

* clear: how much of yourself do you wear on your sleeve?

um not that much, i’m usually a quite reserved person

VESSEL

* ode to sleep: describe the last dream you remember.

omfg oh the dreams i’ve had lately, they’re something complete different,, like with the quarantine have i started sleeping more, which i guess is good, but i’ve started dreaming so much more and it’s fucking scary how much and how intense i dream now? like every dream seems real, and i’ve started to struggle to remember what’s actually happened in my real life compared to what i’ve dreamt, i can’t separate them and it all mixes together to one confusing mess,, and some dreams have been quite horror like too, not that i’m bothered when i’m actually in them, but more like i wake up and think whatthefuck actually happened

* holding on to you: which part of a conflict do you believe is more important - the journey to solution or the solution itself?

solution, i’m always a solution person, just give me that damn happy ending even with real problems too

* migraine: do you have a favourite day of the week?

no not really, it really depends on what i’m doing each day

* house of gold: what is a childhood dream you had that now seems unrealistic?

hm this is about to be sad but i never dreamt of anything big or special, ive always known that i’ll just end up living a normal life like anyone else? and i haven’t got any special talents or something, so the most creative i can think of is probably a good scientist or something

* car radio: do you enjoy silence?

in the right amount, yes. i usually appreciate silence a lot, whether alone or with friends i’m comfortable with, but that awkward silence sometimes is horrible

* semi-automatic: what is your stance on gun ownership?

disgusting. there’s no fucking argument that justifies having a gun, a possibility to take someone others life. there’s NEVER a valuable reason. sweden is really good with our super controlled gun laws, but like the us desperately needs stricter gun laws

* screen: what is the lie you most regret?

uhm update i think the last time i wrote here was in like april?? so anyways it’s december let’s finish this one lol

oh um i am, as mentioned before, highly scared of conflicts so i’m always weighing pros and cons of lying - and usually am i quite close, so there’s really no big lie that i regret? i tend to stick to the truth bc i’m scared of the consequences that might come if someone discovers my lie

* the run and go: if you were a fugitive, where would you hide out? explain.

simple answer: my friends places, if i had to hide somewhere better than that then maybe like... my grandpas wife has a lovely summer house in norway, yeah i’d hide there

* fake you out: freedom or safety?

depends. right now, fucking freedom. no, but like in theory right now freedom is the only thing i wish for, but i’m actually prioritizing safety bc of obvious reasons and i hope everyone else is too so i can have my damn freedom soon

* guns for hands: what is your favourite metaphor from a book or other piece of writing?

i really wish i was more attentive about such things, right now so i not have a clue

* trees: talk about your most memorable experience with a stranger.

i’m shy and scandinavian so i don’t talk to strangers unless i really have to,, maybe the man who shouted “i want that chinese” and pointed at me when i was in the city with my friends, who made me fully realize that wow people are actually racist towards me

* truce: name an acoustic song (other than truce) that makes you emotional.

misguided ghosts. do i really need to say anything more? no.

#julias mind #self development #just for my own sake

0 notes

khunsetare · 7 years

Text

ODIUM

CHAPTERS PRIOR : 1 , 2 , 3 , 4

TAGS : @kenzieam , @jaihardy , @pathybo , @elaacreditava , @tigpooh67 , @beltz2016 , @lostinthebeans

I KEEP SAYING THANK YOU BUT THANK YOU AGAIN FOR READING MY WORK. This does contain mature theme, and will eventually only increase with the more chapters I post. If you find mature themes, and triggers to be overwhelming, I would not recommend continuing to read this story. I love feedback, and would love to hear your thoughts.

I DID HOWEVER ADD A NEW LEADER INTO THE MIX, AND IT’S ONLY BC I HAVE AN OBSESSION WITH TOM HARDY AS WELL. ‘MAX’ !!not the leader of the faction !! can be whatever you picture him to be, but in my head he’s tom hardy (: . let me live vicariously through my protagonists. Any who, eNjoy!!!!

Chapter 5.

“Does one of you want to explain or should I just get started on punishment?” He replies dryly.

“Punishment?” I frown. “For what! He started it,” I groan as Max puts up a hand to silence me.

“I don’t care what kind of problems you guys have going on. It needs to be solved immediately. Work it out, and do what Jeanine tells you. That’s it. Trust me, you don’t want Jeanine to hear of any of this,” I roll my eyes, and cross my hands over my chest.

“Get to training; I’ll figure out what punishment is in store later,” Eric hasn’t said a word, but I don’t think Max expected him to. I walk up a few flights of stairs following Eric, until I’m at the roof. There are initiates lined up with ear mufflers, and guns in their hand.

Four hands me an unloaded gun, and two magazines. He stares at me wearily. Probably questioning if giving me a potentially loaded gun was a good idea. I tilt the gun, and push the magazine in clicking it and aiming straight at the plastic dummies. I take a deep breath, and aim for the main spots. I hit the target spot on in every location, every time. I keep hitting target until my gun clicks, but Four is quick to take it from me before I can reload the next magazine.

My chest is still rising rapidly as I stare at him through hooded eyes.

“You’re already top of your class, I don’t think it’s necessary for more physical training,” He pauses, staring over my shoulder at something. “Maybe its best you take a few laps, and call it a day,” He says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Fine,” I huff, and walk down a few flights till I’m outdoors. I exhale, and briefly wonder to myself if this was all worth it. I contemplate finding a way back home, but decide it’s too risky. Eventually I’d go back home; When, and for how long was debatable.

. . .

The last few days of physical training weren’t tough as I wasn’t actively taking a part in any of it. I found that consciously telling myself to not try and strangle Eric in his sleep got harder day by day. However, saying that we weren’t actively avoiding each other at all costs was a lie. During the few days of limited training, I had gone over to Erudite, and grabbed as many book, and files on Divergents as possible. They were all cluttered in a corner near Eric’s bookshelf to the far back, and most of them were useless.

Mindless reading seemed to get worse as every minute passed till I heard the click of the door. There’s faint laughter, and it’s a woman’s voice. I don’t pay much mind, and grab headphones on the counter top near me, and wirelessly play some songs on shuffle. As the music booms in my ear, I feel eyes on me, and I look up to find a woman’s. She had dark brown hair that reaches her mid shoulder, and she’s staring at me with wide eyes. What’s wrong with her? I pull a earbud out, and stare back.

“Um, my names Kimberly. Kim for short,” She smiles, and I still stare at her wearily.

“Okay, can I help you?” I ask her.

“I, uh sorry. You probably don’t know who I am. I’m just waiting for Eric; It’s date night,” I nod, and put my headphones back in.

Never pegged Eric to be the dating type. Especially with someone so nice, and gentle looking. I shrug the confused feeling off, and continue to read through another volume of divergent info. As I skim through it a name catches my eye.

COULTER,N. | STATIONARY PATROL | DAUNTLESS FORCES RECRUIT

ERUDITE BORN | FULL ACCESS TO ALL FACTIONS

________________________________________________________

INDRA SCARLETT VIDAL ; CORO VIDAL : 2ND ERA GENERATION

INDRA SCARLETT VIDAL

LOCATION: UNKNOWN

GENDER : FEMALE

AGE : 28

HEIGHT : 5’4

HAIR COLOR: DARK BROWN

EYE COLOR: BROWN

STATUS : DECEASED

FACTION BORN IN: ERUDITE

FACTION CHOSEN : DAUNTLESS

SPOUSE : CORO VIDAL

OFFSPRING : NONE

CORO VIDAL

LOCATION: UNKNOWN

GENDER : MALE

AGE : 32

HEIGHT : 5’10

HAIR COLOR: BLACK

EYE COLOR: GREEN

STATUS : DECEASED

FACTION BORN IN: DAUNTLESS

FACTION CHOSEN : DAUNTLESS

SPOUSE : INDRA SCARLETT VIDAL

OFFSPRING : NONE

SUN RISE 4TH WEEK OF THE 4TH ERA : Subjects have been detained, but are not complying with protocols or testing. Immune to shot, and resistant. Female subject may be pregnant with Male’s child.

SUNSET 6TH WEEK OF 4TH ERA : Both Indra and Coro have fled Erudite testing hall. Subjects were seen on train towards Amity, but no signs of any whereabouts. Dauntless, and Erudite are to patrol fence until found.

SUNRISE 7TH WEEK OF 4TH ERA : Subjects have still not been found, guarding the fence will begin immediately. Blood faction relatives are alerted, but have no information on whereabouts even after using truth serum created by Candor.

SUNSET 20TH WEEK OF 4TH ERA : Documentation, and further research on VIDAL’s are terminated. Coulter, N. confirmed elimination, and both subjects upon resist. Vidal Family have been notified. Eldest daughter of Reva and Freyr James has gone missing; Eldest son Tove still stands, and is being prepped for initiation when eligible.

KEY NOTES : COULTER,N.- UPON TESTING OF FREYR, AND REVA BOTH CHILDREN’S DNA SEEM TO COME UP INCONCLUSIVE. DNA MATCHED BUT NOT BIOLOGICAL PARENTS.

My blood runs cold, and I stare at the piece of information. I add some event’s up in my head, and realize that around the time of my parents escape my mother was pregnant with me. I try to force myself to understand, and filter the information but I couldn’t. None of it made any sense. My parents weren’t dead, they were alive. They moved outside the wall, and away from the US Government. Our community lived off the grid from both sectors of civilization. I keep skimming over the words, trying to put some information together but I couldn’t remember the events. Possibly because I wasn’t old enough to be aware of my surroundings.

I remember being in the fields of Amity often, with no trouble. I remember playing with Amity children but I also remember having friends from Erudite too. A small group, but nothing I could forget. I just couldn’t remember who they were. I stared at the open page blankly, trying to take in the information. Why would Jeanine want me to research my own family?

“Lia,” A deep, demanding voice spoke to me, and I snapped out of my daydream.

“Huh, oh. Hi,” I look up and see Eric standing a few feet away staring at me oddly.

“What were you reading?”

“Document’s on event’s prior to the rebellion,”

“Did you find anything?”

“No, Eric. It takes time,”

“How much time?”

I stare up at him blankly. He seems annoyed, but I look past him and see the girl that was here prior behind him. Ah, I see. He doesn’t want me here. I nod my head, and grab a bunch of books to take with me. I place my jacket loosely over my shoulders, and push my feet into my sneakers that laid by the door. He watches me intently, but doesn’t say anything as I leave. I bit the sides of my lips as I figure out a place to stay, and study without anyone bothering me. My mind flashes to the roof when we did gun training.

After walking up a few flights I push open the roof door with my shoulder, and find a corner to sit near. I plop down, and lay my books in a neat pile by the corner. I re-open the books, and skim through more pages hoping for something that could satisfy Jeanine enough to stop thinking Divergents were threats. I don’t know how long I keep reading but my eyes are heavy, and I feel myself drifting off to sleep.

. . . . .

I wake to birds chirping, and I feel soft covers over me. I’m shut my eyes to continue sleeping until I realize that the last place I remember being was the roof, and this was not the roof. I sit up, and stare at my surroundings. It’s not Eric’s so it must be another leaders. Fuck. I search around, and spot my books neatly stacked on a nearby counter. I sigh in relief, but still keep my guard up. I push myself out of bed, and sit at the edge.

“Sleep well?” A thick voice from behind me speaks. I turn my head to the side, and watch as he walks by me concentrating on something he was doing in the kitchen. He’s tall, and built. Alike Eric, but completely opposite in features. He has medium, thick black hair that faded on the sides, and a lightly grown beard. I’ve yet to meet him up until now. I stop analyzing him, and nod silently.

“You’re Tove’s sister?” He asked, I looked at him curiously. How does he know I’m related to Tove. He laughs slightly as he stuffs a piece of bread in his mouth. “I saw your badge card in your jacket, you both have the same last name,”

“I’ve yet to meet him. I don’t even think he knows I exist,” I laugh to myself.

“He speaks of a sister. Is that not you?”

I shake my head no. “I have an older sister, but I was born after we were separated,” His squints his eyes at me, but drops the subject.

“I found you sleeping by the roof. So I brought you here, do you not like to sleep with the initiates in the living quarters?”

“Oh, uh. I have to stay with Eric till initiation for safety. But, he had plans so I didn’t want to be an awkward third wheel. I must’ve dozed off and forgot where I was. I’m sorry about that,” He shakes his head as if it’s no big deal.

“Ah so you’re the reason why there was blood all over the training room,” I don’t respond, but I continue to watch him. “Well, if a situation like that happens again and you have nowhere to go, you can always come here,” He says, and I’m filled with a light buzzy sensation.

I nod. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I smile to myself, before straightening myself out.

“Your shirt was covered in gravel, and dust so I put it with your jacket by the table near the door. You can keep the sweater if you want,” He smirks lightly, and I take notice that I’m wearing his baggy sweater. I fiddle with the sleeves, and smile to myself again. Just take the compliment, and stop blushing. I scold myself.

“I should go, but thank you again,” I smile up at him as I put my shoes on.

“I’ll walk you down to the pit. There’s no training today ; Ranks go up soon. You’ll see where you stand, and if you move onto to the next stages of training,” I nod.

“Okay, thank you,” He grabs his jacket, and I grab mine stuffing the old shirt into one of the pockets.

Our walk down to the pit is silent, but not an awkward silence like it is with Eric. Within a few minutes we’re in the pit, and there’s a swarm of dauntless initiates. I continue to follow him all the way to the front where I see Em, and Zephryine together. They glance at me, and then at the man next to me and wriggle their brows. I roll my eyes at the suggestion, but continue to stick with him till I’m at the front. “I never got your name,” He laughs next to me.

“Lia,” I outstretch an arm, and smile at him.

“Max, I’m one of the leaders,” He states, and I take that there are a few other leaders who aren’t participating in the initiation process. As I step forward to see the board, I spot Eric, and almost immediately he spots me. He looks pissed, but then again when is he not pissed. His eyes stare at me, and then flicker over to Max beside me. He glances over both of us a few times, and I can see he’s deep in thought. He clenches his jaw, and turns back towards the board.

“You see,” I hear Four boom. “This board will be ranked with all of your names by tomorrow morning. To your right, you’ll find clothes for the war games tonight. See that you make it to the train in time. That is all,” He ends his short speech by turning on the board. Empty name slots appear all numbered, and I hear chatter about it behind me. Max pats my lower back, and instinctively wrap my arms lightly around his neck.

“Thank you, again,” I smile, and he returns the embrace tightly before heading back out of the pit. I follow my fellow initiates towards the pile of clothes, and feel him walk up next to me.

“Didn’t think when I went looking for you that you would be fucking another leader, but I guess I don’t really know you that well,” I shoot an angered look at Eric.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me so far. I guess fucking leaders is my calling,” He clenches his jaw hard, and he turns himself to me as I stop.

“They only want you for your body, and your looks. Nothing more,” I scoff at the statement.

“Thanks for the clarification,” I sneer, and walk away from him. I walk over towards where Em, and Zephryine stand. They’re both rummaging through the clothes gathering up sizes.

“Here, I grabbed you some things in your size,” I smile.

“Why thank you,”

“These look terrible, how will I look nice in this,” Zephryine heaves, holding up her pairs of clothes. “I can’t win in this faction,” I laugh at her comment.

“I don’t think we’ll be dressing like this forever,” I reply.

“It feels like forever!” She exclaims.

“So besides the fact that you keep befriending all the hot leaders, we have most of the day off, and need to get tattoos and gossip!” She jumps in excitement.

“Yeah, you need to tell me where you find them. Maybe they’re all hiding from us until after we’re done,” Em squints her eyes, while nodding her head.

I roll my eyes, and laugh. “I don’t think it’s like that. Let’s go get some new ink, and we’ll talk about who’s hot and who’s not, then,” They both shake their head, and lead me towards a red lit room. There are a bunch of glass flash tattoo’s all over the room, and a few people with big black patches on them. I stare at it oddly, and continue to watch as one of the female artists pulls up the material, and reveals a fresh piece.

“That’s so odd,”

“What’s odd?” Em asks,

“They patch tattoo’s on. An odd concept,”

“What do you mean?” Zephryine turns to listen to Em, and I’s conversation.

“I have a bunch, but they were all made with a machine gun. Or hand poked, but I’ve never seen them patched on before,” I stare at a female artist in the back who keeps her eyes on me.

“You have tattoo’s? Since when!” Em’s facial expression is surprised, but it soon fades.

“To be fair, she does look like the type to get tattoo’s, and piercings,” Zephryine adds, and I feign shock. In return, she lightly slaps my arm. Her eyes move to something behind me, and her eyes move back to mine. “It’s like he likes to follow you,” She raises her brows in my direction, motioning to look behind. I turn my head to the side, and see Eric. His attention isn’t on me, but his arms are crossed, and he’s speaking to an artist. He motions to his neck tattoos, and I overhear that he wants his last round of touch ups. I turn back to the female artist in the back, and smile at her. Her face, and stance is stoic, but I’m not afraid to approach her.

“I’d like to get a small henna style tattoo on my my middle finger,” She stares at me, and nods her head showing me a few styles, and I agree to pick one. I hear a scoff from the end of the room, and see Eric with patches on his neck.

“Typical,” He says in a lower tone, but I can still make it out.

“It’ll only take a few minutes because it’s a small tattoo. The bigger the piece the more time it takes,” She explains cleaning the patch, and placing it on my finger.

“I’d like to get both of my nipples pierced too,” I add, and she looks up at me with raised brows.

“I’m the piercer, so I can do it while we’re waiting for your patch to finish up,” She nods, and instructs me to take my sweater off. I look up as I pull Max’s sweater over my head, and place it on the side. Em, and Zephryine are staring at me like I have ten heads, but quickly put two, and two together. They both smirk, as they get sized for their own tattoo’s.

“Are you comfortable with taking everything off here, or do you want to go into another room for this?” She questions me, and I shake my head no.

“No, here works just fine,” I respond. My eyes slowly meet with Eric’s, and he looks a little tense. Whether it’s from the tattoo or the fact that I’m making him witness my first nipple piercing. I unlatch my bra, and lay it off to the side as I sit down onto the chair behind me.

“Who did these?” Her eyes roamed some of the tattoo’s I had on my forearm, and some peeking out from my leggings.

“Um, it was traditionally done. I don’t think you’d know him,” She continues staring at them, but then stares back up at me.

“There’s only one person I know that does tattoo’s like that,” I look down at her, and assume it’s fine to tell her who put their artwork on me.

“Tom Cilard,” We both spit out in unison. She stares at me with wide eyes, and realization of where I may have come from hits her. She nods, and continues to sterilize her needle, and clamp.

“Okay, the clamp will be the least of your pain. The needle pain will only last for a few seconds, but discomfort may last for a few days up to a week. Count to three,” I nod.

“One, Two,” I pause taking a deep inhale deciding that if I wanted Eric to suffer I might as well stare at him straight in the eyes. “Thr-“ I wince slightly as she had already inserted the needle before three. I pry my eyes away from Eric’s, and look down as she slides the needle out, and the piercing in. “Last one,” She smiles up at me, looks back briefly, and spots Eric. A smirk begins to appear on her face as she tightens the clamp around my nipple.

“You’re the only one ballsy enough to taunt him like that. I like you,” She laughs, and stares intently at my nipple making sure to get an even level when piercing me. “Same as last time,”

“One, Two,” Before I can finish two she’s already pushed the last needle through. I sigh a small breath of relief, as I feel her move the piercing in. I bite the side of my lip as she rummages for paperwork.

“You already have piercings so I’m sure you know the protocol, but in case you forgot here is all the do’s and don’ts. Here is something to clean it with,” She plops a brown spritzer bottle in front of me. “Try not to have any harsh impacts on the breasts, and in the next few days you should be able to go back to a normal routine. However, keep a good eye on it for the next few months. If anything pops up, just stop by here,” She begins to pull off the patch on my finger, and I completely forget that I had gotten a patch art done too. I smile at the small design, and thank her.

“Elisa, and it was a pleasure,” She smiles, shaking my hand as I get ready to leave.

I pull the sweater over my head, and stuff my bra into one of the sleeves in my jacket. Em, and Zephryine are done, and gathering their stuff as the artist that’s working on Eric begins to remove his patch on his neck. The color is darker, and more prominent than it normally is. As we all get ready to go, I lean down a bit as I pass Eric.

“Hope it wasn’t too typical of me,” I shrug, and smirk to myself. He grabs ahold of my bicep, and pulls me closer to him.

“Be careful who you play with. You won’t like when I play back,” Heat rushes through my body, and I manage to snatch my arm back before there is evidence of my arousal. Em shakes her head, but continues to walk with me.

“You like to play with fire, girlie. Make sure you don’t get burned,” She warns, but I sense it’s from a sincere, and genuine place so I smile warmly at her.

“I’ll try not to,” I chuckle, and Zephryine is chuckling in the background.

I see Caleb running up to us, and we all stop. “War games, 30 mins. Meet near the train,” We all nod in unison, and head off to change.

Let the War Games Begin.

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breeeliss · 7 years

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[Miraculous Ladybug]: Trying to Get Bi

this is a very silly one-shot for @ladyserendipitous ‘s birthday (belated only bc finals are a terror). she pitched this idea to me a while ago, so i finally got the chance to write something for it :P

oh, also shoutout to @mahaliciously for the french celebrity suggestions! click on the celeb names for pics (praying the links work)

Link to Archive of Our Own: [AO3]

Title: Trying to Get Bi

Summary: “Alright. How about Adrien Agreste?” Chat Noir sat up abruptly and stared at Ladybug over his shoulder. “Say what now?” "Let's hear it," Ladybug encouraged. "Hot or Not? He totally seems your type.” Chat Noir opened his mouth, closed it, and winced. “Eeehhhh, I dunno. T-That’s kind of a….a hard question.”

Featuring: Bi!Ladybug and Bi!Chat Noir, a billboard of Adrien Agreste, a game of celebrity Hot or Not?, and a very awkward reveal.

Trying to Get Bi

“Okay, what about….ah, Vanessa Paradis.”

Ladybug took a bite of fudge. “Not,” she said with her mouthful. “Not that she’s not pretty, just not my type.”

Chat Noir hummed in agreement and plucked his own square of fudge from the Tom & Sabine’s box that was sitting in between them. “I might have to go Not too,” he decided. “Amazing model, probably go on a date with her, but that’s it.”

“Oh!” Ladybug perked up. “Marion Cotillard.”

Chat Noir snorted. “Um. Hot. Way hot. Not even a question. If she so much as even spoke to me, I’d probably self combust.”

“Same!” Ladybug laughed. “She has the most beautiful eyes, I just want her to stare at me from across a candlelit dinner before she takes me home.”

“Takes you home to do what? ” Chat Noir cackled.

Ladybug lifted her chin and shrugged. “If you’re suggesting that I’m thinking something improper, you’re completely wrong. I’m a gentlewoman.”

“Uh huh,” Chat Noir deadpanned. “The same gentlewoman that didn’t curse out a tourist for taking pictures of her chest the other day?”

“Shut up,” Ladybug snorted. “He deserved it.”

“Cheers to that.” They both held up their squares of fudge and tapped them in a toast before finishing them off in one bite. “Speaking of men,” Chat Noir continued, “Jean Dujardin.”

“Absolutely,” Ladybug nodded. “Hot. My best friend was telling me the other day that he was ‘too old’ and I looked at her like she was crazy.”

“Okay thank you because my best friend also said he’s not hot. Which. Have you seen him?”

“Ridiculously handsome.”

“ Supremely handsome! Bless my soul if I ever aged as gracefully as that.”

Ladybug reached up and stroked Chat’s bare chin. “You with scruff? That’d be hilarious.”

“Um. I could pull off scruff. I’m a very mature and upstanding cat.”

“Please, you’re totally baby faced, I’ll believe you can pull off facial hair when I see it.”

“Excuse me, but I’ll have you know I have exactly three hairs growing on my chin.” He moved in closer and tipped his head back so that she could see. “Look! Don’t they make me look manly and irresistible?”

Ladybug squinted. “I don’t see anything, so I guess that answers that question.”

Chat Noir gasped and pressed a scandalized hand to his chest. “ Rude! ”

Ladybug held the box of fudge away from him, stuck her tongue out, and squealed when Chat Nor got up and started chasing her across the roof that they were just laying out on. “It’s not my fault you can’t handle the truth, Chat!”

“The betrayal!” he shouted after her, laughing when they jumped across a narrow alleyway onto the next apartment building. “I thought we were Bi Besties!”

Ladybug rolled her eyes as she scaled the slanted roof and sat on top of a windowsill. “Stop trying to make Bi Besties happen. It’s super corny.”

Chat Noir laid out against the shingles of the roof right underneath where Ladybug was sitting, and stared up at her with a wicked grin. “Bi Besties is the perfect superhero name for us. It’s accurate, inclusive, and proclaims us as role models for the questioning youth. They look up to us, you know.”

“Look it’s fine as an inside joke, but how are adults supposed to take us seriously when you go on national television and present us as the Bi Besties?”

“You were so into it.”

“I mean, yeah,” Ladybug grumbled. “Right up until I had news reporters coming up to me the other day asking me about my sexuality.” She cleared her throat and deepened her voice until she was mimicking a snooty, television reporter. “Mmm, so Ladybug, would you say that your bisexuality affects your superhero work?”

Chat Noir rolled onto his back and laughed boisterously. “What did that even mean? I saw it on the news after the fight and it was the most cringeworthy thing I’ve seen in my life.”

Ladybug pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh heavens! An akuma! I sure hope my simultaneous appreciation for men and women won’t get in the way of taking it down!”

Chat Noir clasped his hands together under his chin. “It’s simply too much, Ladybug. My brain can’t possibly think of a way out of this sticky situation. There are too many thoughts of men and women swirling around in there, I can’t bring myself to concentrate!”

“Do you think straight people really think that?” Ladybug asked.

“I’d have to ask a straight person.” Chat Noir opened his mouth and leaned his head back. “Fudge me!”

Ladybug plucked off a piece of fudge, aimed, and managed to land the piece directly in Chat’s mouth. He lifted both of his fists in victory and cheered into the sky while Ladybug chuckled and opened up their second box of fudge. “Next time we decide to bum around on a Sunday, I’m bringing macarons. You’ve been having too much chocolate lately. How are you going to fit into that cat suit of yours?”

“Don’t body shame me, Ladybug, I’m a growing boy. I need sugar. By the way, it’s your turn.”

She searched the sky for another celebrity name. “Ah, Gaspard Ulliel.”

Chat Noir waited for her to pass him a full square of fudge before he answered. ��Hot. He looks like he’d treat me right.”

Ladybug wrinkled her nose. “Not. Sorry.”

“What?”

“He has squinty eyes!”

“The squinty eyes of an angel!”

“Statement stands.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “What about Louane? The singer.”

“Hot,” Ladybug declared. “She’s such a cutie pie. Absolute sweetheart.”

“I’m gonna have to go with Not on this one. She’s cute, but it’s like she’s….too cute? Too nice?”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“I like woman who would be happy to step on my face or have the power to murder me.”

“Oh my God,” Ladybug snickered. “Is someone like Nolwenn Leroy up your alley?”

“A thousand times yes,” Chat Noir said enthusiastically. “I’d happily let her murder me.”

“Same,” Ladybug giggled. “You know, the more we play this, the more I’m getting a sense of your type. Omar Sy seems your type.”

“An impossibly attractive man with a beautiful smile? Hell yes. Dream husband, to be honest.”

Ladybug tapped a finger to her chin. “I’m gonna say….no on Baptiste Giabiconi.”

“Right again,” Chat Noir nodded. “I dunno, too intense for my tastes. I’d probably date him once just to say I did because, hello, amazing, rich, and popular model. But I need a man who’s gonna go the distance.”

“So a kindhearted but ridiculously attractive model that’s not too sweet but not too intense?” Ladybug asked.

“Oh for sure. Especially if they were around my age? That’d be great.”

Ladybug wracked her brain for another celebrity that would fit Chat Noir’s specifications, but in an almost uncanny twist of fate, her eyes happened to land on a huge billboard poster about five or so rooftops away featuring Adrien Agreste and Gabriel’s new Teen Fall Fashion line. As often as they played these celebrity Hot or Not games whenever they had downtime, Ladybug never bothered to bring up Adrien Agreste. It just seemed weird to bring someone into those kinds of games that she had such a huge crush on in real life and who also happened to be such a close friend of hers, so she never bothered.

But it was just a silly little game, and his billboard poster was right there being so completely obvious. Plus, if she had to be honest, Adrien Agreste seemed exactly like Chat Noir’s type. So she tapped Chat Noir on the shoulder with her foot and pointed at the billboard. “Alright. How about Adrien Agreste?”

Chat Noir sat up abruptly and stared at Ladybug over his shoulder. “Say what now?”

“Adrien Agreste,” Ladybug replied simply, turning his head toward the poster with her foot. “The Gabriel model. Gabriel Agreste’s son. He’s been on the cover of I don’t know how many teen magazines. Have you not heard of him?”

“N-No, I have!” Chat Noir stuttered. “Uh, yeah I uh….have a friend who knows a lot about him.”

“Alright, let’s hear it,” Ladybug encouraged. “Hot or Not? He totally seems your type.”

Chat Noir opened his mouth, closed it, and winced. “Eeehhhh, I dunno. T-That’s kind of a….a hard question.”

“Really?” she asked in confusion. “Why?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. “I just, you know, it’s a little weird. Um, because you see my friend. See she talks about him a lot . So it’s just. I hear so much about him? And it’s kind of awkward. I guess. Sort of. Maybe.”

“Awkward….”

“Yeah. A little….i-inappropriate, if you will.”

Ladybug lifted a brow. “Chat, we literally had a twenty minute conversation yesterday about our dream weddings with Emmanuel Macron and he’s our new President. How is Adrien Agreste more awkward and inappropriate than that?”

“It just is!” Chat Noir defended lamely. “I-I dunno, sometimes you just, y-you just don’t have opinions on things.”

Ladybug crossed her leg and cradled her chin in her hand. “This is so bizarre,” she breathed out in awe. “I thought for sure we’d feel the same about him.”

Chat Noir turned his entire body around, his eyes looking a little desperate and frantic. “F-Feel the same?” He cleared his throat and fiddled with the part in his bangs. “How, uh, how do you feel about him?”

“Totally Hot,” Ladybug said decisively. “Plus, I heard he’s around our age, and he lives right here in Paris. So he’s totally within my league.”

Chat Noir inhaled sharply and started choking on his spit, banging on his chest to clear his lungs. “Wait,” he croaked out. “Y-Y-You think he’s hot!? Like hot hot?”

“Yeah?” Ladybug frowned. “What’s up with you? I’m surprised you don’t have an opinion of him.”

“I didn’t know you did!”

Ladybug shrugged. “Well, he never came up. But yeah he’s….absolutely charming. So handsome. A beautiful smile. Talented. And he seems like just the sweetest person in the whole world. Remember the akuma Jackady? When he was targeting Gabriel Agreste? I got to spend some time with Adrien amidst all the chaos and he was a complete delight. He seemed a little nervous to talk to me but I thought it was really adorable. I don’t mean to gush, but he just seems like a really special person. Really humble and down to earth for someone who’s so famous.”

She’d accidentally been staring at his billboard poster when she said all that, and she had to shake her head and sober herself up a little bit to not make her crush on him too obvious. But when she looked down at Chat, she found him staring up at her with a flabbergasted look on his face, a flush spreading all the way from his cheeks under his mask to the very tips of his ears. He bit down on his bottom lip and swallowed, tail swishing nervously behind him.

“Are you okay?” she asked him worriedly.

Chat Noir shook his head and covered his cheeks with one hand. “Yeah,” he spoke through his fingers. “I’m. No, I’m fine. Just, um. You must….really like him.”

Ladybug set aside the box of sweets and stepped down from her perch on the windowsill, settling down on the rooftop right in front of Chat. “You’re blushing.”

“A-Am I?” he said, his voice sounding oddly high-pitched. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Ladybug squinted her eyes suspiciously. “This is so weird, I’ve never seen you this flustered over another person before. Do you have a crush on him?”

“No, no way, definitely not!” Chat Noir quickly insisted. “I-It’s just, you know….kinda like….rating your best bud or something.”

“You’re best friends with him?”

“No!”

“So….you know him?”

“I mean…. know is such a strong word, don’t you think?”

Ladybug smirked. “I know you’re trying to divert attention away from this, but now I’m starting to think you’ve got some really juicy reason for not wanting to tell me whether you think he’s attractive.”

Chat Noir floundered around wordlessly for a moment before shutting his mouth, lifting both of his hands, and walking away from Ladybug towards the other end of the roof. “Nope. Not doing this. Nu uh.”

“Oh come on!” Ladybug giggled. “You can tell me! Do you know him from somewhere? Do you have this super big embarrassing crush on him and you don’t want me to know?”

“Why are you so fascinated by this?” Chat Noir asked. “It’s not that big a deal, is it?”

“Adrien Agreste is objectively gorgeous, and the fact that you’re reluctant to admit that is super fascinating.” She pouted her lips and bounced on her toes. “ Please? It’s Sunday and we have nothing to do, you’re telling me you can’t dish out some gossip? You love gossip!”

“I’ve got nothing gossip worthy on him, honest!” Chat Noir swore. “I just….feel like there’s a line when it comes to these sorts of games, you know?”

Ladybug snorted. “Oh, since when are you such a party pooper? The only lines in this game are family members and ourselves, and you don’t fall into any of those categories anyway — ”

“Hey! Look at that! It’s a full moon!” Chat Noir interrupted, pointing at the sky almost desperately. “Isn’t that amazing? A full moon! Hey, let’s talk about the moon for a bit, huh? Won’t that be fun, like. Just. Talking about the moon and it’s….fullness?”

She wanted to say that Chat Noir had almost as big a crush on Adrien as Ladybug did, but in all honesty, she had no idea why he was being so secretive and acting so awkward. That being said, it seemed like a delightfully rare occurrence and she was never one for missing out on an opportunity to tease her partner, especially when he was turning this red over it.

Ladybug clasped her hands behind her back. “Hey Chat?”

He flinched when he heard her voice and stopped his pacing. “Uh. Yes Ladybug?”

“If you were related to a successful, world-renowned fashion designer who lives right here in Paris, you’d tell me, right?”

Chat Noir covered his ears with his hands. “You know I can’t do that Ladybug, it’s against our code!”

“There’s probably a whole dynasty of Agrestes, I won’t be able to tell who you are if you just admit you’re a part of it,” Ladybug laughed. “It makes so much sense! You already have the blond hair and those high cheekbones. I bet you get invited to all the Fashion Week parties and you never even told me. The nerve.”

“Wait, cheekbones, you think I have their cheekbones?” Chat Noir asked. “Is it that obvious?”

“Oh totally ,” Ladybug joked. “If anything, you and Adrien Agreste have the most startling similarity out of that whole family. I bet that’s why you’re too embarrassed to admit he’s attractive. The family resemblance is just too huge.”

“ Really!? ” Chat Noir exclaimed worriedly. “I-I mean, we’re not that alike. Our….our hair is so different Ladybug, like, wow , totally out of this world different it’s crazy. I think you’re being a little overdramatic.”

Ladybug got closer to him so that she could grab his chin and turn his face left and right. “Nah, you two could be twins for sure. I mean we might as well plant your face on that billboard. It wouldn’t look any different.” She gave a dramatic gasp. “Oh my god, that’s it! You must be his twin.”

“Ladybug you’re being ridiculous that’s just. Crazy talk! You know that, right?”

She covered her mouth with one hand. “No! I’ve got it! It all makes sense! You must be Adrien Agreste!”

Chat Noir shook his head and stared at Ladybug in abject horror. “Wait, what!? ”

“It’s the only logical explanation, I mean why would anyone rate themselves, right?” Ladybug smirked. “To think that this entire time you’ve been this sweet, darling model by day and a sarcastic goofball by night. What a transformation. Really. Bravo.”

Chat Noir’s hands flew up to his hair and started yanking on it by the roots, and watching him get so flustered was probably the funniest thing Ladybug had seen all week. She chortled into her hand while she watched him stare back and forth between her and the billboard photo as if he were actually trying to convince himself that her ridiculous joke may actually be real. Such a drama queen. But then, Chat Noir completely surprised her when he dragged his hands down his cheeks and whined, “But how did you even figure it out?”

Ladybug sobered up and blinked. “Wait, what?”

Chat Noir’s jaw snapped shut and his eyes widened. “....nothing,” he squeaked.

“Wait a minute, figure what out?”

“Nothing! I said nothing!”

Ladybug felt her jaw dropping and couldn’t stop her brain from putting together the pieces. “Wait a minute. Wait, wait, wait, y-you’re not….are you actually….oh my God, no way!”

“You were the one making it sound like you knew!” he defended. “You just said it!”

“I was kidding!” Ladybug screamed. “I thought we were just messing around, I didn’t think you actually thought I was serious!”

“I thought you knew and you were just trying to tease the answer out of me!”

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this if I actually knew, obviously I was kidding around!”

“Well I guess I’m just bad at picking up signals then!”

Ladybug held up both of her hands. “Stop, stop,” she begged. “Hold on. Hooold on. You’re telling me….you’re telling me that you’re Adrien Agreste?”

Chat Noir shrugged helplessly, trying to come up with a decent response to the question, but he merely let his shoulders drop and sighed, accepting the inevitable. “I….well….y-yeah. Yeah. I’m. I’m Adrien Agreste. There. Secret’s out.”

Ladybug stayed stunned for a few seconds, promptly turned around, and pressed her fingers against her temples. “Holy crap,” she muttered. “Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap.”

Chat Noir winced. “Not that I ever anticipated this would ever happen, but as far as reactions go, you’re having a pretty bad one by the looks of it.”

Ladybug paused and bit her lip. He was right. For Marinette, this was positively mind blowing. Her crush and the boy she sat behind in class was actually Chat Noir and that by itself was making her brain do cartwheels trying to wrap her head around such a reality. But for Ladybug, it shouldn’t be any more shocking than realizing a model is actually her crime fighting partner. Being too dramatic about this ran the risk of revealing more about who her secret identity was and the fewer identity mishaps they could have tonight, the better. She was just going to….compartmentalize this and deal with it later. Much later. With her door locked. Screaming into her pillow. Tearing down all her Adrien posters.

“I-I guess, I’m just,” she hesitated, turning around and trying to force her brain to picture Chat Noir doing chemistry homework in study hall or Adrien telling puns while dangling precariously from the top of the Notre Dame. “A little embarrassed? I kinda gushed over you just now so it’s a little weird. It’s not because I’m disappointed or angry or anything. Surprised, for sure. But I guess mistakes happen. We were going to find out sooner or later. Occupational hazard.”

That seemed to placate his anxieties, and he blew out the anxious breath he was holding. “Well, that’s a relief. I’d prefer embarrassed over angry.”

“I’m not angry,” she assured him. “I probably shouldn’t have teased you so hard like that. That would’ve confused me too. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I should’ve known better than to assume. It was mostly my fault.” He scratched the back of his head and smiled awkwardly. “Gosh, this is weird not having this secret hanging over my head anymore.”

“It is a little weird,” Ladybug agreed with a smile. “But, I think we should be okay. I’m the only one who knows. And as long as we’re careful and don’t let anyone else in on the secret, everything should be totally fine.”

“Good point,” Chat Noir agreed. “As long as this doesn’t change anything, we should be fine, right?”

Ladybug bit the inside of her cheek, trying to imagine how she was going to manage keeping her cool in front of Adrien on Monday now that she was hanging onto such a huge secret. “R-Right!” she replied quickly. “We’re totally fine.”

Chat Noir smiled in relief, but then suddenly widened his eyes in realization. “Wait a minute,” he smirked. “You’re so right….”

“Right about what?”

“You were totally gushing over me a minute ago.”

Ladybug scowled and held up a finger. “Chat….Adrien….or, both of you just…. don’t .”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Chat Noir laughed. “Is teasing only okay when you’re the one doing it? I’m suddenly feeling up to continuing our little game but, oh, could you remind me what your opinions of Adrien Agreste are?”

“Oh my God, shut up!”

Chat Noir started counting off his fingers. “Let’s see if I can remember them all. Gorgeous. Sweet. Delightful. Charming. Handsome. Did I forget any?”

Ladybug covered her face with her hands. “Stooooop.”

“To think!” Chat Noir snickered. “All this time you’ve been telling me how much I wasn’t your type, and I’ve been your exact type this entire time!”

“You’re so infuriating leave me alone!”

“We should go on a date!”

Ladybug frowned, walked back over to where she left their sweets, and stomped away from him. “I’m leaving!”

“Noooo, come on! It’ll be nice! Like a celebrity date! It’ll be a lot of fun. You know, because I’m an absolute delight.”

“You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

“This is the perfect way to lighten up the mood, my Lady,” Chat Noir snickered. “Of course I’m not letting this go.”

“Leaving!!!”

“You can’t leave. I thought we were Bi Besties!”

“That’s never catching on Chat. Don’t even try it right now.”

#miraculous ladybug #ladynoir #ladybug #chat noir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #ladynoir fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #my writing #trying to get bi

504 notes · View notes

ol-razzle-dazazzle · 7 years

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A shitty old drabble that’s been laying around on my laptop forever, it’s also RanAki/Ranposano? whatever y’all call it, bc I love them and the Poe ep- which the ficcy drabble takes place in

You miss me, don't you?

I can see it in the slits of your eyes, and I know that ever since that day with that horrifying story that you have suffered what I have gone through with your own body.

'The murderer was me.' You said that so confidently, and I knew there was no worry in placing my trust in you. But I couldn't figure that out, and by the time I lay myself on the line it was too late. Oh it makes my arteries quiver to know you saw me like that, dead on the floor.

Oh how I missed you. Even in that phantasmagoric story that felt more like a nightmare, it was the fairytale of my dreams. To think that such things as vile as death would bring us closer again, but I hate it. I hate not doing anything, but deep in my cold heart that bleeds all kind of blood, I was feeling some sadistic pleasure of you suffering with me, with me.

Oh how I miss the caw of your crow-like voice. Your ruffled hair splayed out like the stranded petals of spider lillies. But work made us unable to meet, much like the legend of the leaves and flower. I was busy bringing people to life, leaves raised- basic beauty of life. You were busy with your split-second whims and deduction, figuring and preventing death.

The green fields of your eyes, in the rare occurence that you would open them in front of me, a rarity that a flower of death is every fully alive, the leaves and nectar touching. Just one drink, just one moment, just one chance to hear you scream as you splay yourself on the examination table.

Okay that was a bit sadistic, but I can't help it. I can't help but feel a sullen fascination of grim with you, the occasions where you scream for me as I fix your wounds up. But you shouldn't be that loud, I give you a lollipop after, anyway.

I want to toss it aside, I want to disregard this as a strange occurrence, that will never happen again. We slipped apart, after those years of a meek Agency, lead by a snickering crow. If you were to die, if I were to die- would any of this matter? I don't need you to save me, you don't need to be saved- we're all relative monarchs here, so scrap all the middleschooler crap and let's navigate a train and sometimes intersect with each other.

I miss that. That casual feeling, that ease that came with being with you. I don't care if it's a fuck or a kiss or a hug, I just want you to be beside me. To chatter away, coffee in my hand, some sugary limited edition shake in yours. I want to see your eyes again, I want to feel your hand on mine as you keep telling me that coffee is worse than bleach if you don't have at least 4 spoons of sugar. Where we could just talk shit and shoot the breeze so much the sky has bullet holes.

One, especially a doctor should maintain a professional relationship after all. But...the truth is I already envy you so harshly. The carefree way you hold yourself, that shit-eating grin you get on your face when you 'win' over the most miniscule things. How you can seem so content to be alone yet so cheery and chipper to other people.

Do you feel the need to take people on the train so you feel less alone? I mean, how pathetic! How honest can a man be? But you're one step above me, once again. Whatever, I can still reach things from the top shelf, shithead. A detective like you probably can't even lie anyway.

The problem with that though, is that you know when to hide things. And you do so often.

Fuck it, that's my goal. I want to wipe that smartass smirk off your face, and I want you to look at me, I want to be beside you again, even if it's to shed some reality on that superiority complex.

But you came to me first. Am I that much of a mastermind seductress? You say it's some trivial thing, you needed to pick up something. Well that's a lie, unless you're picking me up- you brought your bag home with you and oh for heck's sake a half-empty bottle of boiled candy. Congrats. I can only provide a slow, deadpan clap- which in retrospective I should've taken my gloves off for. It's hard to give the same effect.

But then you catch me off guard worse than any murderer satisfied with their delusion of a perfect crime. With a perfectly reasonable sentence, and one that in a perfect world you would ask. The world is by no means perfect nor hopeless, so perhaps this balance was in my favour. "We should talk about what happened."

"What's there to talk about?" I raise an eyebrow, and I see you back off slightly, like really? A shift in the weight of your shoulders, a tiny detail no one who hasn't seen you react in front of a cleaver would notice. You're more like a cat that way.

"Nothing, then." You wave a dismissive hand, and I so desperately want to call you out on your bullshit.

"Don't give me that, I've known you for years, doesn't take deduction." And so I do.

"Well that's it, isn't it?" Cryptic fucker.

"It isn't?" The solution to clear mist away is to add more mist.

"I give up." He shrugs. "I get confused on multiple-negatives and rhetoric questions."

"..." I pout, how ignorant can you get? That is, before I say, "What was it like to watch me die in your arms?" We can't help but laugh, and laugh we do.

"Absolutely terrifying." You snicker, and we know we're both serious. Laughter is genuine, and grim sorrow is as well. "I never expected that I'd care about you so much."

"Ah, is that right?" Inquisitive eyes, and your own open as well. It was only for a second, but I caught it, that fading forest of green.

"Well, of course." A glimmer opens, just one eye.

"You see death all the time." I point out, twisting the fate of your words, to what I want to hear.

"Not with you." The answer comes almost all too instantly, almost indignant of me dying. "Don't ever do that to me again."

"Don't plan on it."

Ah, damn. Too short a reply. We sit in silence once more, and with a heavy heart I feel that distance again with your eye slipping shut.

"You know, it's...strange." You smile again, and I don't play my cards too soon again. "Hmm?"

"Even with everything...I still felt at ease with you. Almost like-" Screw it, this is where I want it. "Old times, huh?" Your eyes flicker open in surprise. "...Yeah."

"That's why you wanted to talk...right?" Got you. Another smirk. "Of course, but that's not all it." You nod to yourself, psh, as if you ever second-guessed yourself anyway. "I don't want things to go back to the way they used to, and I don't want them to go back to the way they were before Poe came along."

You stand up, and you shrug. "Is this 'love'? I don't know, don't really care, but I just want to be with you." I can't help but look down, and stifle a chuckle. Finally, but I can't help but savour the moment.

"Oh, what happened to 'all's well that's well for me'?"

"Well, I would be well, if you were well with me." A self-assured smirk and a poke on the shoulder.

"You know, I'm pissed." I can't help but sigh. "I wanted to try wiping that smirk off your face. Pity."

"What about a kiss then?" We both say at the same time, and both laugh. "Come on, am I really that predictable?" You put a hand to your head, so overly afraid of the mere notion that you are 'normal'.

Well, I guess it was easier than I thought to do so.

"One problem, your heels, I am not going to stretch myself for a kiss, that's beneath me." "You know what's beneath me?" "Shut up."

A hand settles on my tie, pulling me down slightly. "Better?" I raise an eyebrow.

Your lips press against mine, and when you pull away you have that grin that I adore. "Better."

#idk it old #like 4 months wow #ranaki #ranpo #yosano #bsd #my writing

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disarmingly · 7 years

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fanfic asks i’m going to post answers in numerical order as i got some numbers asked twice which is cool but i definitely am the idiot who will lose track if i don’t do it in number order! also i’ll throw it under a read-more bc i tend to get rambly and so it all gets quite long! like seriously i apologize i wanted to give it my all but like i may have written too much >_<;;;

i'm gonna preface with: i was confused by these first two because i thought is this the same question but then figured maybe 3 was ff and 4 is not ff? T_T;;;;

3 [ name three favorite writers ]

the truth is i admire a lot of people and not all of them actually post their work unfortunately. however, xiajin ( @j-ungah) is one who does, for which i am very grateful. it's easier though for me to say the THINGS i like best i.e. i really admire people who do humor in…how do i say it? ah well it's best for me when it's fluid within other feelings -- like the lightheartedness makes the punches and ups and downs of other aspects of their stories just shine? i am fairly unskilled with lightness/humor and i am repeatedly and eternally in awe of people who weave that facet of the heart into their narratives so believably. ^^;; i also admire what i think of as a seven-sense experience -- which is to say something about a writer whose descriptions dialogues and everything in-between??? create a thing i feel hear smell taste see, yes, but also a thing i dream, i thing i wake up to or from….that kind of suspension of my reality. ^^;;; which just smacks of escapism i know hahakjsfsdlfds OTL but it is what i like! some other part of why i don't have a lot of names rn is that when i'm focusing on writing i don't read as much fic? and on the flipside when i'm not trying to write then i read like everything under the sun thrice over ^^;;; but i've been in writing/trying to write-mode since i posted This Time Around so…yeah!

4 [ name three authors that were influential to your work and tell why ]

this is really hard! but i left out one writer on my past book rec list so i'll mention him here. john steinbeck! i know that most people/schools/etc tout him for grapes of wrath T_T;;; but like….i tried really hard to like it for a friend who is basically married to that book and i just…couldn't? i tried with of mice and men too but that book is like being beaten up by the written word and no one to patch you up afterward. but. BUT! let. me. tell. you.

east of eden

this book is falling apart like i've read it until it's shreds and i don't wanna give up the copy i have because like…i have so many notes in it? i have dates written down and things i don't remember ever writing or what they reference but getting a new one would be like…idk i can't do it yet. i'll have to soon just bc i carry it around everywhere and i need it but..this book, warrants steinbeck being mentioned in and of itself. if you haven't read it, i cannot rec it enough. like i am not honestly a huge fan of anything outside of fantasy or science fiction but this is my exception. no amount of applauding is going to do it justice. but suffice to say he's got this wickedly good balance of ideas, execution, emotion, and rationale and i just feel so much it is a book that HURTS and yet i kind of…what's it like? it's like if it took me years and years to climb a tree just to see what i can see from the top, then learning to climb back down. sitting under that tree. feeling…like a conversation happened?

T_T i ramble but yeah. john steinbeck's east of eden.

other than that: diana wynne jones, CLAMP (cries forever), cs lewis

6 [ how did writing change you? ]

before i wrote i drew and i painted, which i find hilarious now because lolololol what IS visual art, it’s hard work and talent hybridized with quality hearts (me: /stares at all my fave fanartists for real) kdsfdsfdlsfjlds but yeah uh writing happened because i loved reading. i thought: these things make me feel less displaced in the universe, if only a little. ah well, more to the point, writing in and of itself changes me in every day life almost to a fault: i think a LOT about what i say, even when i’m perceivably rambling. i over-think it too. writing in every-day life makes even the most awkward cat potato (me) better able to hold a normal conversation, which come to that isn’t the MOST important thing, but it is a thing that changed because before writing i basically stood still and tried to hide in my own shadow (unsuccessfully btw.) now i stand very still, hope no one talks to me, but am able to at least talk back if they do ^^;;

if this question means how did ff writing change me otherwise...is it stupid to say on several times, writing ff has saved me? is it melodramatic? probably. i think it does though. i’ve said several times i don’t do wonderfully in-person (ability to converse even so) and it’s painfully true. i don’t know that i believe i ever will. i’m in plainest terms, too afraid. ff writing has given me opportunity to connect with people despite my shortcomings in this way though. sometimes someone says they related to a certain thing or they feel content or a familiar sadness but not in a bad way and that is So Much to me. like can you imagine being in complete darkness and seeing a small light in the sky or the ground or the sea suddenly? that’s what those are.

so writing is helping me change, i hope, from someone who has had the growing fear of being lost forever, to being a little less lost, a little less unworthy. to be fair, writing in and of itself for me is often a lost feeling but those sparks of Found are irreplaceable and whether they happen when i write or when someone responds to the writing, i carry them with me to the best of my ability. because they’re precious. because i need them. and i’m grateful.

writing separate from ff is something i also hope will change me, but i have yet to figure out a way to share that and for now i have a lot of stories on my Intentions to try to actualize, so my side poetry is a sidecar project and that’s okay.

11 [ do you listen to music when writing? ]

yes! in fact i tend to make playlists for my stories when i’m done usually consisting of what i listened to….even if that's a silly thing to do ^^;; i think about sharing them sometimes haha but it’d be linking a bunch of youtube links so idk if that’s dumb sdlkedfsoijlefdjoslk sometimes it’s bangtan and often it’s movie scores i.e. ghibli stuff ....oh and video game osts too!!! a hodgepodge!

12 [ favorite place to write ]

home because i need as much control over my environment as possible. i honestly don't understand how people can get any writing done outside in the city because it's like one massive attention-deficit lmfdlsfdsfkdsjl but kudos to the people who can…!

13 [ hardest character to write ]

LMFSLKFUOIJWFLSK gosh um…i think for me the way i would phrase this is that the character i am most nervous writing??? yoongi. he features predominantly in my writing because i find his transparency about his journey(s) relatable and something to always be grateful for. unfortunately being relatable presents the ever present pitfall possibility of projecting onto someone, which i don't want to do. even when writing him as a character, i still want him to resonate true to the real deal in as much as possible in the world created or the canon suggested. i want to do right by him, very badly, and for better or worse that means i can almost never enjoy writing him because i'm so worried the whole time. the moment of peace is when i either post or delete, but both leave an uneasy feeling if i'm honest, and perhaps that's always going to be true -- with my favorite people and my favorite ideas i guess.

14 [ easiest character to write ]

like 13 i'm cheating and changing this to the character i'm least anxious writing and that would be namjoon. i love him a lot but for whatever weird reason i'm not having heart palpitations every time i have to write a line of dialogue for him. is it because i've watched and read everything of him the most? not really. i think i've re-visited more kookie things out of all of the ot7, but namjoon has a vibe i get, a wavelength i'm on almost all the time and i can't quite explain it since it's not like i'm talking about a person i personally Know. but what i mean is, i feel like i do? he makes me feel comfortable with him at the colloquial level both verbally and emotionally so i don't overthink him as much as i do say yoongi, jungkook, and hoseok -- all beloved but also sharp points of vulnerability for me.

17 [ favorite AU to write ]

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh….well. the way it's phrased it feels like it means ongoing AU??? which would be time and again drabbles supplementary to This Time Around (the initial oneshot).... (even tho from hereon out everything else will transpire BEFORE the current chapter up lololololol way to be confusing right) but if it just means like what universe, period, huh gosh. all your stars are my stars too au probably.

20 [ favorite character to write ]

i CAN'T pick

21 [ least favorite character to write ]

i don't have one unless you count 'difficult' as leas favorite but that's really not true for me s-so...

22 [ favorite story you’ve ever written ]

?_? ahhh the story closest to my heart? tie between all your stars are my stars too verse, and this time around verse. haha i keep picking those two but honestly despite being two very different worlds the pulse is actually the same.

23 [ least favorite story you’ve ever written ]

so far away

still disappointed in myself because to this day i don't know what i can do to make it better i just know it could be and it's so specific i just don't look at it anymore. it is by far the one i've revised the most and i'm sure that's weird haha...but it means so much to me...if it was a friend in my past, this story would be the friend i should have done more for, didn’t, couldn’t, and will regret until i can either come up with an answer or just have to square with said regret and say we don’t always get it the way we want it. hm. i admit when i posted it i hoped i’d be less disappointed with myself over time, but apparently not so.

24 [ favorite scene you’ve ever written ]

T_T no idea … do you have one, anon? /waves white flag/ i guess i'm just cheating through all these asks OTL forgive me but i guess a favorite would be any scene that a reader feels connected with them/resonated personally or moved their feelings into a place or shape they didn't expect but are okay having?

25 [ favorite line you’ve ever written ]

sjflkfesdipokleds /covers face/ im really sorry i just don't…have one…ah...i can’t look too closely...but i always appreciate when readers have favorite lines and copy paste them to me any given time like it’s so nice? ;_; it’s so nice ahhh

26 [ story you’re most proud of ]

since i kinda hard passed the last two with this one huh like i guess if i can qualify this as 'story i consider deleting the least often' that would actually probably be my ONE vmin fic i wrote so far -- sidereal -- lmfdlskfdsfjdsl sidereal -- and it's not that i think it's especially good but more so that i know/ don't question what i'd change about it because it came together start-to-finish very naturally…and that's funny since i had never written them before.

27 [ best review you ever got ]

listen. every review is the best review T_T seriously every review, every bookmark's notes, every ask….(well as long as it's not mean!) ah is a use of someone else's time they did not have to give me but they did and that? that's huge. fanfic is interesting bc it's a thing done for pleasure but unlike say, fanart, there is no readily apparent way to make it marketable? so i think of those words left as review or ask or whatever… as a manner of wealth, if it makes sense, a currency of kindness motivation/encouragement and hope -- that even if i dislike my writing/ find majority fault within it at the end of the day….. there are people out there who don't dislike it too, which is amazing and a relief.

28 [ worst review you ever got ]

hmmm well tech it wasn't a review but like i have gotten a LOT of asks regarding ... .- ...- . -- . + stardrop that range from disappointment that i wrote/published stardrop at all [i knew it would garner some of this but i have haha had more than i thought] to just flat-out regret for having read any of them in the first place. now, as someone who doesn't see any time in the near future where i'll like my own writing, having someone use the words 'regret reading' are….it's upsetting. i feel silly for how much it gets to me but i'm a weak spiral of a person in many ways, so asks like that send me running to hover over the delete button all the time, not just on that story but every story. but i know LOGICALLY it's just an extreme reaction of mine so i don't follow through but yeah my fight or flight response is very much flight lolololol OTL

as for not that uh probably the smattering of asks that came through when i posted 'follow' …one of which asked why i portrayed jungkook so stalkery (as far as i'm concerned, i didn't. he admires namjoon same as some of us admire our own internet idols or whoever)

32 ... .- ...- . -- . [ alternate title for (insert story title) ]

IN fact i almost called it 'equilibrium' but while relevant that seemed too vague...

33 ... .- ...- . -- . [ alternate ending for (insert story title) ]

jungkook wakes up. jungkook wakes up and he's raining, brings his hands to his eyes and can't stop, can't speak, can't anything but rain. jungkook wakes up, curls on his side, and cries cries cries until he falls back asleep.

a moment later, the door to his room slides open. two pairs of eyes worry after him into the dark where they recognize three things: 1. jungkook may never forgive himself; 2. there is nothing either of them can do about it; 3. when the captain named namjoon and the mechanic named yoongi forced jungkook into an escape pod at just the last second, their intention was to save him but the result is not so simple.

with unpredictable caution, taehyung enters the room, jimin's hand at his back, doesn't bother to speak quietly, well-acquainted at this point with how deeply jungkook dreams, how desperately. biting the inside of his cheek, taehyung shakes his head. "what are we gonna do?" after a moment, he glances to his right as jimin brushes past him to draw jungkook's blankets up more securely around him, combs soft fingers through his sweat matted hair and says,

"the best we can."

38 [ do you reread your own stories? ]

other than to proofread? no! i'm still very immature as a writer so the reality is if i go back to read something i have a 99% likely will delete because i see all the flaws and things i want to do better but don't yet have the skill to achieve??? but i know i can't or shouldn't literally wipe everything away Just Because, so…@_@;;;

40 [ which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series ]

time and again drabbles or this time around

46 [ share a scene of a story that you haven’t published yet ]

the night of taehyung's sorting, jimin jumps out of his place at the table to go meet him but a hand circles around his wrist, holds him there. when he looks down, he finds taemin, all calculated cat expressiveness that reminds jimin of yoongi except taemin has a contradictory warmth about him. yoongi is cool to the look the touch and everything until you get inside him; then he's warmer, jimin would dare say, than he himself is, but so few people know it it's hardly worth mentioning. he blinks. frowns.

"i'm going to say hi."

"no."

jimin pulls. taemin sighs.

"do you think for a second they won't use him against you."

it's not a question and for good reason. jimin sits down again, quiet. hollow, learns at age twelve about thinking ahead and expecting the worst.

if only to protect the very best.

truth be known, he doesn't mind being a slytherin. it's easy to just say no one is trustworthy than to say everyone is. but the history of his family creates a whole additional spectrum of uncertainty. 'park' is so common a name one would think it wouldn't be so obvious except jimin's family has been in and out of the wizarding world papers for quite some time. try as they might to undo a history that predates them by decades, it's hard -- no, impossible. slytherin is one thing. heir is another. wealth. jimin is twelve but the world is much older and his so-called peers fall somewhere in-between.

anyway.

what he wants: to say hello to his dearest friend.

what he doesn't want: to bring said friend trouble, no more than he already has.

jimin looks over at taehyung, watches as hoseok helps him with his baskets and...swallows.

it hurts.

around the middle of the second month taehyung goes missing.

it's yoongi that lets jimin know, which makes jimin feel guilty all over: i should have already known.

"did they say when they last saw him?" he asks, rushing around more than he knows yoongi prefers but yoongi is loyal and yoongi is yoongi; he rushes with him, this way and that.

"hobi says yesterday, supper."

biting his lip until it bleeds, jimin experiences what a person always experiences when he knows this might be all his fault: wrenching self disgust, fear, anxiety that crawls around in the chest and twists around the heart like a curse. but feeling bad won't do anything; feeling bad won't find his best friend (who might not want to be your best friend anymore, his heart whispers and it's cold, it's distant, it's terrifying.) yoongi's hand in the sleeve of his robe jerks jimin to a stop so fast he almost trips, except yoongi holds him up while muttering a spell under his breath, the tip of his wand a sharp tap against jimin's strawberry pin (a thing he wears every day in the knot of his tie.) it lights up briefly, blue.

"if i find him before you, that'll happen."

then yoongi is gone in another direction. it makes sense. the school is offensively massive and jimin has never detested it more in his life.

growing up, jimin lived by the sea and taehyung came to visit him every other summer. they collected seashells and named all the fish they happened to find and made castles they planned to live in one day when they were older.

"this one's your room."

holding up a piece of sea glass shining aquamarine, jimin held it over the sun, turned back to face him and said, "then it's yours too."

the room of requirement is for any given thing. for taehyung he needs a place to be found and for jimin, he needs to stop losing.

it takes him two days to find the boy whose sleeping patterns he knows by heart, the boy whose dreams felt often like his own dreams when they were much smaller; it takes him two days and seven hours and forty-one minutes. but he finds him.

when he opens the door, it's some god sized gift to have taehyung meet his eyes.

it's a human sized gift to receive a careful smile.

and it's everything else to crush him in his arms and breathe him in and keep him there, everything to say,

"i'm sorry."

"me too." a pause. "those strawberries were for you," and the way taehyung says it isn't a guilt-trip. it's just him being genuinely regretful he couldn't give them to jimin the way he wanted to but this makes it that much sharper.

jimin bursts into tears.

that summer they go to taehyung's home and jimin eats every strawberry taehyung offers him, which means he gets fairly sick, but he disguises it as something else as best he can and almost doesn't feel so sick at all anyway when taehyung, wide-brimmed straw hat a halo on his head, laughs a sunrise sound and sings a sunset song. it's very windy during their visit, so jimin lays a charm on taehyung's hat to keep it from flying away.

49 [ writing advice ]

1. don’t give up. -- which for me and i guess a lot of people whether it’s art or just life, is truly the hardest. but i am constantly attempting to apply to writing what i try to apply to my livelihood: this idea that the most contemptible thing to do is to surrender. i was thinking about lord of the rings the other day and trying to figure out who i hated the most 8D;;; because my train was stuck and i was viciously trying to not freak out....anyway i kept thinking of denethor...and he’s not you know out and out a villain but he’s just so vile to faramir and on top of that he has clearly given up. he’s got this twisted saccharine doom about him that is somewhat because he’s lost his mind but he lost himself first.

i know this is a really dramatic mental deviation but it’s what i think about ^^;;; the temptation to give up is constant, it’s not a thing that goes away -- which is why i wrote ‘begin’ to address this idea that sometimes the hardest thing is to start, and then to continue in the face of a trouble that has no permanent cure. the moment you give up you lose you, and of course you lose your art. what’s that cliche??? you can’t get something for nothing. i hope that doesn’t come across condescending or bad. i just know for me i have to yell at myself all the time about it, so that’s why it’s first on the list OTL don’t give up, or in the words of bangtan: no no no not today! ^^

2. i used to believe you couldn’t force writing but i think what the more accurate way for me now is to think: i can’t force Right Writing, like it isn’t necessarily good as i throw it down initially and sometimes that’s as good as it’s going to be until i reach a point in that piece that helps me rebuild/recreate/reword the first parts that i KNEW at the time weren’t very good but couldn’t do more with...like perspective within your own narrative i guess, which can’t be gotten without pushing ahead.

so for example, i disliked everything i had with call and answer from the beginning to the end but the only way i got it all done was to write something every day a paragraph or two maybe, just to get draft one done. then i could look at it the next day to proof-read, put one part before another part, etc, etc, the things that went into making it something i could bear to post. ah so basically if it comes a little naturally that’s awesome but i know for me the most frustrating thing is not being able to control when that happens or why, and since i still want to write, this was my ‘solution’ so to speak -- write it, don’t delete it, look at it in an hour or the next day but move forward even if you’re not 1000% sure with it. like i know this doesn’t work for everyone but it is what has at the moment, kept me afloat. it’s not fun but for whatever reason, it is a method i have employed time to time. 3. write what YOU want to, not what anyone else wants you to (unless it’s like a request you’re fulfilling which case that’s up to you of course!) but in general like....i think there’s a misconception that to write big you have to write for everyone but you can connect to a lot of people by telling a very specific story -- they may not dive into every part, but if there is even one aspect of a story i feel recognized by (a moment, a turn of phrase, the resolution, the problem, whatever) then that’s often enough for me. it’s like with people, we don’t get every part of each other -- even the best of friends, or lovers or whatnot -- but the parts we do get mean so much. same for me with stories.

4. give better advice than me lmfdslkf omg

feel free to send other numbers or if i missed one let me know........omg but you probably wouldn’t want to after this huh? lmdsfijfoklfeds ^^;;; wow if you read all that uh....thank you but also i’m sorry ;; lmfdsojklefds T//////T!!!!! <3 ;3;

#haku shut up #fic asks #save me #this time around #so far away #begin #asks #stardrop #time and again #did any of this make sense #i feel dumb but i spent all this time on it hhfdskf #so i post it #OTL #t///t #hakufail #a potato cat #someone take my tags away from me

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voidwizerd-archive · 7 years

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BONDING EXPERIENCES?? ==>

[[ logs with @carnivalsorphans, our muses keep bonding in very confusing ways, what the fuck are these two ]]

voidwizerd okay first off please dont bring this up w Kankri bc th last thing i can handle rn is anythin resemblin a moral talk im too pissed

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd do you ever like get a super specific urge to just beat a body senseless does this happen to you

carnivalsorphans often enough that the thought some people don't kinda baffles

voidwizerd i cant get at who i wanna get at theyre all universes away n maybe DEAD which sure would be fuckin convenient fr them huh i just

carnivalsorphans hahaha yeah fuckin relatable

voidwizerd wanna find some shitty person n whale on em until theyre only sorta recognizable

carnivalsorphans hmmm

voidwizerd teeth aint that necessary anyhow ugh

carnivalsorphans hahahaha do you actually want me ta find ya someone shitty ta fuck up or we just talkin hypotheticals and feelings?

voidwizerd i honestly dont even know i just wanted to confirm someone else experiences this too

voidwizerd i figured if anyone does itd be you

carnivalsorphans aight, just feelings yeah, you bet sib a lot. and it's hard. just kinda.... keepin that real tight inside it winds ya up a bit warps you and makes ya feel all weird til ya can do somethin ta make it stop i used ta bleed myself and then paint with it, but wicked said that's bad, so i'm tryinna figure somethin else out

carnivalsorphans i felt that way bout anyone i actually give a fuck about, where any time they talk on their old shit it just makes me tense up and start this fuckin rumble

carnivalsorphans usually stop it afore it gets loud though kankri says he don't feel that way at all, but i bet there's somethin that'd wind him up that bad somethin for everyone that just makes em wanna beat someone bloody

voidwizerd yeah it just its like wrappin your insides up tighter n tighter n tighter n it feels like itll rip n spill everythin out

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd so fuck, if its gonna tear eventually why not choose myself how that happens???

carnivalsorphans yeah and i'd think at least no one was gettin hurt but me and i like pain anyhow

carnivalsorphans and it spills out nice and slow and i get somethin pretty at the end of it but ... ya gotta pick ya poison, sometimes

voidwizerd i guess i did that last one kinda fr different reasons n a bit more extreme but ha ha ........i fuckin hate copin

carnivalsorphans yeah, it's hard i got a lot ta cope with

carnivalsorphans used ta think i was better than addiction, but i ... dunno. feel like an addict sometimes. wicked says i might be one, even. instead of the bottom of a bottle, i just got my claws

voidwizerd just bout anythin can be addicted to i used to run until my body gave out only way my mind would go quiet i miss th quiet

carnivalsorphans .... yeah

voidwizerd but Kankri would worry

carnivalsorphans fuck havin connections ta people hahaha

voidwizerd right its terrible but also i wouldnt know what happy is like either

carnivalsorphans .... yeah

voidwizerd th loneliness was killin me ha like literally lmaooooo

carnivalsorphans yeah i can feel that

voidwizerd well no okay technically i was doin that my own damn self

carnivalsorphans you wouldn't think, surrounded by church who loves me

carnivalsorphans but ya know. lonely at the top

voidwizerd fuckin pussy i was broke in less than two sweeps. whoop whoop yeah yeah i bet lonely is terrible, fuck that shit

carnivalsorphans used ta be worse but used ta be, i didn't care .... way way fuckin back when saw people bein all close to eachother and it seemed like a waste a fuckin time and energy and like they was a bit away from stabbin eachother in the back

carnivalsorphans .... fuckin ignorance was bliss

voidwizerd ha wouldnt it be so much easier just to not

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd not need that not fuckin CLING to affection like a goddamn lifeline bc its either that n bein treated like garbage or bein treated like nothin at all

carnivalsorphans yeah, fuck that

voidwizerd hurt or isolation take your pick trick question they both hurt and they both make you feel isolated

carnivalsorphans yeah hahahahaha

carnivalsorphans rather have real hurt though. makes shit hard ta focus on .... sometimes, at least

voidwizerd mmn

carnivalsorphans > Try not to think of Artemi. > Try /really hard/

voidwizerd do i like pain fr kinky reasons or do i like it bc i just want someone to beat me to shit

carnivalsorphans hahahahaha

voidwizerd these are th questions

carnivalsorphans just assume it's a little a both

carnivalsorphans nothin's ever so black and white sometimes a lil more of one, sometimes a lil more of another

voidwizerd fuckin

carnivalsorphans and sometimes it fades away so much ya almost forget it's there

voidwizerd hate that shit

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd wish it could be simple shouldnt knowin yourself be simple but nah

carnivalsorphans hahahahaha

voidwizerd other ppl know me better than me

carnivalsorphans depends on how fuckin much you want to know

voidwizerd aint that just th fuckin way

carnivalsorphans i've tried real hard not ta let anyone know me fuckin hate bein /known/ bein... able ta pin down predict

voidwizerd sure is a thing its scary

voidwizerd scarier than anythin

carnivalsorphans .... yeah and not just cuz i'm scared for my church not just cuz i'm scared a how people will take it just... 's

voidwizerd if i didnt trust Kankri so much id prolly just. go outta my fuckin mind of terror. ha

carnivalsorphans yeah every time me and wicked have a real talk, i get a bit.... tense. all tensed up for him ta fuckin recoil or use shit against me or probably ain't the best way ta feel with ya rail, but

voidwizerd no i i get that fuck dude i literally couldnt tell you how often Jane n Dirk did that to me but my stupid ass kept confidin in em anyway

carnivalsorphans hahaha i never risked it sometimes i'd tell shit to people i was

voidwizerd only reason i didnt confide w Jake at all was cause he never paid attention to anythin that wasnt bout him

carnivalsorphans hurtin. i ain't ever had enough trust in fuckers to do that sorta shit too often

voidwizerd shit dude if ur only confidantes are th ppl ur torturin you just might need to get out more

carnivalsorphans hahahahaha yeah

carnivalsorphans i kinda went a bit nuts after i fell got better though

voidwizerd good on you shoulder pat for success

carnivalsorphans there's a lotta things i miss bout that time. probably more than i should. one more addiction ta add onto the pile

voidwizerd ha careful dude dont wanna be breakin records here

carnivalsorphans hahahaha i've lived a long time, i set all the records

voidwizerd my point is to get better rather than worse knucklehead though ha tbh this is one of those lights i doubt thats really a possible thing

carnivalsorphans hahaha how bout we just try for not gettin worse tolight? wanna come over? for the sake a not bein alone

voidwizerd i .....yeah thanks

carnivalsorphans fuck knows i ain't gonna be good for bein alone tonight neither. .... but i don't really wanna worry wicked over me bein all whatever i am right now

voidwizerd "whatever" is a good word fr feelins tonight "whatever" with a side of "sad n violent"

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd apparently not a regular or good thing to feel .. is it bad fr me to be so relieved you get this way too

carnivalsorphans naw 's normal ta feel relieved that ya ain't alone in ya experiences

carnivalsorphans fuck, that's sorta why i hang around sugary and vel and wicked

voidwizerd oh huh i guess i like. well i didnt even know i was angry until well

carnivalsorphans until you was burnin

voidwizerd yeah

carnivalsorphans i think vel sorta gets like that

voidwizerd i guess i been mad a long time but

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd long as i ignored it things never happened

carnivalsorphans people tend ta forget angry is somethin they is allowed ta be

voidwizerd until that naggin suspicion got confirmed, that i was treated no better than shit on someones heel, n i just welp there goes th neighborhood

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd anger is its big

carnivalsorphans anger is born out of sorrow a lot sorrow at fuckin... lack at bein wronged

voidwizerd .....yeah

carnivalsorphans at missed opportunities and bein taken advantage of

voidwizerd at at knowin i did nothin to get hurt n did *everythin* to win approval thats just

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd seventeen goddamn years of waste right there

carnivalsorphans yeah sweeps of lack of what ya deserved

voidwizerd i didnt deserve that

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd *they* deserved my goddamn fists i wish id fought back

carnivalsorphans it's aight to be angry bout that shit. people always say it's aight to mourn, but sometimes mournin involves gettin fuckin pissed

voidwizerd i wish id listened to my instincts

carnivalsorphans you did what ya knew ta do and that's... somethin

carnivalsorphans may not always feel good

voidwizerd i loved em too much was th problem id let anythin slide cause they was my whole world

carnivalsorphans ain't nothin wrong with lovin maybe a bit wrong with bein blinded by it, but there ain't nothin to be done about that except learn from it

voidwizerd yeah took

carnivalsorphans and fuckin... bein tempered hurts, but it does make ya stronger

voidwizerd fuckin 21 years but i learned

carnivalsorphans .... cmere?

voidwizerd yeah

voidwizerd yeah ill be there

carnivalsorphans > Probably help to send coords. > And then time to snug a friend

voidwizerd > Friend will cry and rant a lot but appreciate much. > Mostly cry.

carnivalsorphans > Pet the friend. Kiss their head and wipe away tears sometimes and comfort and offer inappropriate jokes when tears seem to be letting up.

voidwizerd > Jokes get a smile and then even more crying because what the fuck is an appropriate response to people caring about them.

carnivalsorphans > More kisses because how do you deal with people crying Normally anyway?

voidwizerd > Kisses back a little because that seems to help and not kissing back was starting to feel Weird.

carnivalsorphans > Prr? Wipe away tears, focus more on wiz than your own shit.

voidwizerd > Pr... Still feeling terrible, and thinking about bad gunk, but at least not alone. And good to be with someone who kinda gets it. "We're sorta fucked up huh."

carnivalsorphans "Yeah. But we make it work."

voidwizerd "Fuck dude we sure do. By the skin of our fuckin teeth but we're doin it."

carnivalsorphans "I think we're doin better than some people."

voidwizerd "That's optimistic." > Weak laugh.

carnivalsorphans "Naw, we ain't still stuck in our old shit. I think that's better off. Some people never get that far."

voidwizerd "...That's true." > Snuggle up more after decaptchaing more blankets. Feeling more vulnerable to Ringleader's chilliness.

carnivalsorphans > Oh, good. A layer between you and the warmth. ... Give the bundled wiz a squish. "There's somethin to be said for bein proud of how far we've come, at least. Even if we ain't where we wanna be yet." > .... Where does he want to be though?

voidwizerd "Where we even tryin to get to, though?" > Squish is good. Quiet purr.

carnivalsorphans > A snort. "Ya know, I was thinkin the exact same thing." > Loud purring.

voidwizerd "Don't that just figure. Tolight we're real fulla questions that don't got proper answers, huh."

carnivalsorphans "I dunno that we gotta know where we're goin ta be glad we're not where we were."

voidwizerd > Now you snort. "That's some deep shit."

carnivalsorphans "That's me. Deep as fuck. ya know my real secret now.

voidwizerd "I'm honored!" > Quiet laugh. Moody staring at nothing for a while. "Think I'm done cryin now. Got that hollow sense settlin in nice an blegh.”

carnivalsorphans “Yeah, fuck that. I only appreciate that shit when i’m needin to think after bein pissed. And even then, it ain’t the same as true calm.”

voidwizerd "Mmh. Better than feelin I'm about to like... break into a million billion pieces. Like takin a sledgehammer to a window. Ha." > Blink slow. Slower. You're not moving so much.

carnivalsorphans > Squish. You ain't their rail, it's not your responsibility to make sure they're all... In tact. .... But still, you're a bit concerned. A tiny bit. "Anythin I can be doin ta help?"

voidwizerd "'unno. Feelin's gone for now." > Whoops, that there is a yawn. You rub your face, trying to stay awake. "What about you?"

carnivalsorphans "Feel.... Warm." Soft purring. "Probably about time ta pass out."

voidwizerd "Mmh." Sprawl out a bit. "Thanks for bein my comrade in shittiness."

carnivalsorphans "Misery demands company and all that. Plus i like hangin around you."

voidwizerd "Gay."

carnivalsorphans "Yeah." Forehead kiss.

voidwizerd > Mumble a barely comprehensible "suuuuper gay" before nodding off. > RL's a good friend.

carnivalsorphans > Pet Wiz a little longer before going to sleep yourself.

#logs #carnivalsorphans #[[ okay they talk about a lotta junk so here goes ]]#violence //#addiction //#alcoholism //#alcohol //#self harm //#abuse //#torture //#ask to tag //

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