#i am just overwhelmed and cancel every plan and hide in my room and i am just spiralling into darkness rn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovelypale · 3 years

Text

Teacher!Rengoku x Student!GN Reader

nsfw teacher!rengoku x student!reader? 🥺

I got you boo! Ask box is being funky so I hope you see this! This started as hc’s and now it’s??? Hope you’re cool with it anyway haha.

18+ up guys!

Warnings: Reader is 18 but he liked them before so vaguely underage for 2 seconds, sketchy themes.

Just getting something straight: he wouldn't be the one to boldly make a move on you. He actually prays that nothing ever occurs between the two of you, because he knows his resistance is getting weaker.

You would have to be the one to push him, and it wouldn't be easy at first either. He'll ignore all your attempts. Even if you admitted your feelings honestly he'd find a way to purposely misunderstand you if not straight up reject.

He's ashamed to admit that his feelings for you started when you were his class. You were younger than you are now, still naïve and cheerful. You had a way of always grabbing his attention. You worked diligently, took good notes, and tried to be as active in class discussions as you could be. It was admirable.

In his admiration, a thought floated by, a simple one about your looks. The way you strained yourself when you were trying to raise your hand higher than your peers. It made his heart stir. He tried to dismiss it but it haunted him.

He was relieved that you had graduated to the next grade, but you weren't happy at all. You joined a club he sponsored, and you excelled at it. For a while he was good at pretending, acting like your hugs, compliments and body didn't make him see stars. As you grew it only worsened. Now that you were 18 his desires had hit a peak.

The first sexual experience would probably happen after a club meeting. You would often stay behind to help him clean balled up paper, silly string, various other items from simulated battles. Usually he would curtly thank you and take off, but you've been able to keep him around longer lately.

"Rengoku-sensei!"

"Yes?" He turned to look at you with his usual beaming smile.

"My feelings for you haven't faded."

He gave a hearty laugh, causing your serious expression to waver. "It doesn't have to, but I am your Teacher y/n so I can't further this conversation with you."

His usual response.

You stood from your spot and approached him, the closest you've ever been. "You didn't say those feelings weren't returned, just that they were unprofessional."

He couldn’t laugh his way out of this one. The air felt heavy in the classroom. He's taken too long to answer you, the answer was obvious. As long as he didn't say it, he could pretend it wasn't true. "You're correct."

You closed the gap and looked into his eyes. He wanted to move away from you but he couldn't. He couldn't push you away, couldn't move away from your kiss, he couldn’t stop you. He didn't want to stop you, he should, but your grinding was a tragedy he couldn't deny.

You didn't want him to touch you yet; you wanted to convince him that you could be good, that you were serious about being with him. You fell to your knees and began unbuckling his pants. "Thank you Sensei."

The first time he treated you like glass. He was scared to hold you while you sucked his dick. You looked up at him with that same pleading look that drove him crazy, that look that you would do anything to satisfy him. The way you moved up and down him was too good. Your warm mouth slid off him with a pop, lips smooth from the moisture, you had tears in your eyes from all your efforts. Your hand continued to stroke him until completion, thick cum pumped out of him in beads that you eagerly licker. You looked up at him with a smile, your voice coming out with a shake, "Did I do good?"

The gravity of the situation hit him. His previous student, a current student, just gave him a blowjob in a classroom after hours. He used your mouth inappropriately, but God if you didn't look good doing it. "You did amazing."

The threshold had been passed. If he was going to do this he was going to treat you better than fucking you in some classroom.

You clearly couldn't go home, and he couldn't take you to his out of fear that his brother might recognize you. For all the fervor you had in the classroom, you became very timid.

You confessed that it was your first time, and his thoughts went haywire. He knew better than to get ahead of himself, and instead took it slowly. He wanted to make sure you felt good and safe.

Good isn't enough to describe what you felt. His mouth was heavenly, enough to make you cover your mouth in shame of all the noises you were making. His movements were so vulgar against your sex, he was very clearly experienced. You couldn't imagine that the man between your legs was just your teacher a few hours ago.

His praises would help your pain as you adjusted to the feeling of him inside of you. He loved cooing such soft things to you as you groaned from all the pressure. As usual, your persistence was admirable.

Whenever it seemed like you were overwhelmed he would lock a free hand in yours and check to see if you were okay. It made you melt.

He liked holding you down through your orgasms. Not in an aggressive way, just enough to prevent you from hiding yourself. He wants to see every expression, hear every gasp, and feel every twitch.

He doesn't let himself come until you're spent. Only then does he feel like he's earned the right to release. Despite his usual demeanor, he's not loud in bed besides his grunts. However, he couldn't help moaning your name as he came.

From that day on you two developed an odd relationship. You two saw each other so much that the hotel room felt more like home than either of your homes.

He’s not a fan of fucking at school but he's done it before. You sent him some very revealing photos in the restroom. So he canceled the entirety of the club meeting after school just to pound you silly.

Sometimes you two get to it so quickly that neither of your uniforms properly come off. He'd never admit it but his own guilt turns him on. Seeing your poor outfit that he shouldn't be ruining in disarray gets him so excited.

He definitely loves you and he's scared that all the sex gives you the wrong impression about the relationship. He tries to say that he loves you often to quell his own fears.

Lucky for him, you do genuinely love him. The morality of the situation isn't solid, but you don't plan on disappearing from his life any time soon.

Whether or not that happens only time will tell, but at least in the moment, you two are satisfied with each other.

#kny x reader #kny headcanons #demon slayer x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #demon slayer #Kimetsu no Yaiba #kny #spice rack

451 notes · View notes

olivinesea · 2 years

Text

If Ever I

Part Three

Chapter List

a/n: I could keep apologizing for the delinquent that I am but I feel that would imply I was going to change this behavior and I’m just not. You’ll have to have me as I am, sorry everyone. Hope it is worth the interminable wait.

A lot of “I love you”s, a lot of tears, it’s a bumpy, angsty ride but I swear on my life it’s a happy ending so don’t come for me. ~5k

Aaron rolled his shoulders, trying to resettle the seams of his suit jacket as he waited for the elevator to arrive at his floor. He could feel the knots in his muscles calcifying with the effort it took to sequester what was happening at home with Emily into a tight corner of his mind during his days at the office. He cared, of course he cared, but there was so much going on every day, an endless stream of people pulling his attention in a million directions, expecting things from him almost as immediately as he’d been tasked with them. He didn’t have the space to let his thoughts stray to Emily, slowly imploding on herself in an idyllic cage of her own making, all while denying anything was wrong. He couldn’t think about it even though his heart ached for her. A good showing at this job would be a critical boost in his law school applications. It was a chance to propel himself further along this career path he’d dared to choose for himself. He wasn’t about to sacrifice his progress with distraction, no matter how important she was to him.

Even with all his nerves and self doubt, he’d been able to project a calm confidence at work that made people trust him, look to him for leadership in ways he hadn’t expected. During meetings a panicked nausea arose from the way people looked at him when he spoke, all that attention a laser directed toward him. Despite an overwhelming desire to hide, he never let his discomfort show. The skills learned painfully as a child—how to obscure what was happening inside so that the world could find him more palatable—were suddenly a key component in his work life. But no matter how much his work was praised or his opinion sought out, he still felt awkward around the others. People his own age who seemed to fit so easily together, sharing details about their lives in the brief idle moments they crossed paths in the copy room or on the way to the lobby or stuck in the elevator returning from another coffee run.

Aaron generally stayed quiet in these interactions, avoiding talking and doing his best to be invisible. When he did get caught in one he dealt with it by smiling politely and nodding when it seemed appropriate but rarely volunteering any information about himself or his home life. He hated when they asked about his evening or weekend plans, the guilt over his neglect of Emily tearing little pieces of his heart. So he was more than a little surprised when another associate, Daniel, found him while he was waiting for the elevator that Friday afternoon.

“Hey! Hotchner? Glad I ran into you before you left,” he said with a smile that looked slightly forced. Aaron only blinked at him, refraining from explaining that he was only going to pick up files from another floor, not leaving for the day (it wasn’t even 5 o’clock). He couldn’t imagine what the other man wanted; they worked on the same floor but on different teams. There wasn’t a lot of overlap in in their days. As Aaron tuned back into what was being said to him he realized it was an invitation. Daniel was inviting him and his partner to a dinner party that weekend. Another colleague had cancelled last minute so there would be an opening.

“Of course, I’ve been wanting to catch up with you, man,” Daniel fumbled, trying to cover the fact he’d just admitted this was only an afterthought.

Aaron, stunned by the unexpected offer and unable to be bothered by the knowledge that he only merited a fill-in invite, just smiled vaguely, mind already racing to how Emily would respond to something like this. He almost missed the not-so-subtle fishing for information on his relationship status. It hadn’t been an intentional withholding on his part. He hadn’t realized people were thinking about it.

“We’d love to join.” Might as well let them wonder, keep things interesting a little longer, he thought dryly.

Daniel looked at him a second too long, his expression a tense neutral as he absorbed Aaron’s response. Aaron tried to make his smile softer, more natural. He frequently found himself trying to imitate that casualness that came so easily to the others. Inexplicably, Daniel laughed before walking past him, clapping his shoulder as he did.

“That’s great, man. See you then.”

Aaron exhaled through his nose sharply. He didn’t think casual touch would ever be something he became accustomed to but he had gotten very good at not reacting to it. The elevator chimed finally and he entered, shifting his shoulders again as if he could shake off the memory of foreign fingertips. He went about the rest of his afternoon, collecting files, checking over briefs and any other little thing he could do now to make Monday’s chaos a little more manageable. All the while he turned over scenarios in his mind, an anxious part of him convinced this idea would not go over well with Emily. By the time he left he was angry with himself, wishing he hadn’t committed so readily. Certain he’d only set himself up for a fight.

He found her sitting in the window seat, her favorite spot. When they first moved in, he joked about how cat-like she was, perched high above everyone, plotting world domination. He couldn’t remember when he’d stopped. She had the record player on, something softly playing as she leaned her forehead against the window. She didn’t hear him right away but when he sat next to her she turned and smiled at him. It had been a good day. He smiled, relieved and leaned over to kiss her.

“Hey there,” he sat back against the opposite end of the seat, stretching his legs long in front of him.

“Hey yourself.” She turned back to the window as he ran his finger along the edge of the ugly beige cushion they were supposed to replace. They were careful with each other, neither wanting to accidentally end up in dangerous territory. The record ended as they sat together, unspoken words lapping around the edges of their strategic island of silence. Emily started to get up to flip the record but he put his hand out, touching her wrist lightly. He hadn’t be able to figure out what approach would give hime the best odds so he figured he’d just jump into it.

“Would you want to come to a party with me on Saturday?” He did his best to sound confident.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. Ignored the way her stomach dropped, the fear that dried her mouth. “You are inviting me to a party?”

He nodded.

“Are you trying to ask me out, Hotchner?” a fake concern in her voice, she pretended to be shocked to hide the true panic this idea created.

“I do believe I am, miss. Is that alright with you?”

She laughed at his drawl, something he’d learned long ago could cure all but the sourest of moods. She swung at him playfully and he pulled her in against his chest.

“You’re cheating! No Southern gentleman charm offense. You know I am not responsible for the decisions made under the influence.”

“Mmphm,” he grunted into her hair. A moment later, voice quiet and deliberate, “Only if you want to, Em. You can say no, I’d understand.”

She shook her head, snuggling her back closer against his chest. “Of course I’ll come. Besides, you need me and my diplomatic expertise. Have you even been to a dinner party before?”

He squeezed her, laughing now too. He felt hopeful in a way he hadn’t in weeks, maybe months, he couldn’t remember. Maybe this was what they needed. A chance to get out, to go into the world and flex their presence as a couple. Maybe this was the start of a fix.

The next night they got ready with a sense of anticipation wrapping warmly around their chests. She looked striking in a black dress, the back just low enough to see her shoulder blades. He reached automatically for a tie but she pulled it from around his neck, laughing and unbuttoning this collar.

“Let them get to know the real Aaron Hotchner,” she smirked, an exaggerated wink scrunching her features. He shook his head at her but didn’t put the tie back on. He wanted to poke back but he was still nervous, unsure what would change their playful exchanges bitter. Better to play it safe.

As they walked down the sidewalk to the train, she slipped her hand into his, leaning against him, glancing over every so often to see their reflections in the dark windows. Their features were soft, more color than distinct shape, her silver boots the only variation from their dark coats and dark hair, pale skin almost ghostly in contrast. She felt as indistinct, as untethered as this wavering version of her and for a moment she was overwhelmed by the idea of this party, the anxiety of having to be someone solid and present for a few hours. She knew she’d have to make small talk and answer questions and pretend like she had any idea what she was doing. Things that used to come so easily to her felt impossibly far out of reach. She would be a curiosity, the one unknown in a room full of people who spent their days together. Her breath caught and her lungs refused to cooperate. Her steps slowed, all her concentration fixed on the space inside her chest. Aaron squeezed her hand, pulling her attention away from her rising panic.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said gently.

She nodded but the fear was still threatening to overtake her.

“We don’t have to go. We can just go back home, really.”

She closed her eyes, a crease deepening between her eyebrows as she fought to overcome her distress. She could do this one thing for him; it was only a stupid party. How many parties had she been to? How many times had she dragged him along with her when he would have rather been anywhere else? When she opened them again to look at him, her expression was completely changed, a mask settled in its place. “What, and waste all this work?” she waved at their outfits.

He shrugged and they continued walking. When they reached the corner he stopped her again. “We can leave whenever you want.”

She sighed. “Thank you.” For a moment the relief in her voice made her sound vulnerable but it was instantly replaced by a grin that showed all her teeth. It was a look he was a little frightened of but now was not the time to think about that.

At the party people were nice, but in a way that Emily found off-putting. It was all too similar to events she’d attended for her mother, people clearly presenting themselves in what they thought was their best light. Wanting to appear more important than they were. Like children playing house, everyone posturing to get the most prized role and none of them particularly caring what anyone else was saying. She wanted to laugh at them but saw the way Aaron was eagerly trying to fit in. Soon after they’d arrived he’d made an awkward joke that got him a few laughs and his shy smile grew stronger as he eased into his work persona.

So, with considerable effort, she refrained from rolling her eyes as a woman described in detail the ordeal of choosing the right font for her wedding invitations. Instead, she opted to finish the last of her glass, thinking that might give her an excuse to get away from this particularly mind-numbing conversation. She had been drinking steadily since they got there, working her way through the bottles lined up on the table. A variety of mid-range reds, nice enough to fit into this grown-up fantasy. Nothing amazing but more than good enough to keep drinking. Possibly a little more than she meant to but she felt good with the alcohol slightly fuzzing the edges of her surroundings. Time didn’t seem to drag so badly when it was being poured from bottle to glass to mouth, the cascade of seconds carrying her closer to the moment she got to return home.

“So have you gotten him to pop the question yet?”

Emily looked up from her wine, startled out of her contemplation of the way time dissolved into the liquid. The other women were looking at her, waiting for an answer but she had lost track of the conversation. She smiled apologetically and hoped her teeth weren’t stained red. “What question?”

The women laughed. They all looked so similar to her, she wasn’t sure who was making which sounds. “Has Aaron proposed yet?”

She choked. Of course that was what they’d meant. She tried to cover with a laugh, hoping her tone was light but certain they could see the way her heart had sunk down to the floor.

“We haven’t really talked about that yet, things have been so busy for him…for us.” Her cheeks were red as she tried to regain a normal breathing pattern. At that moment, Aaron looked over at her from across the room, concern in his gaze but she waved her hand dismissively at him. He looked only partially convinced but resumed whatever boring conversation she was sure he was enjoying.

The women mercifully turned their attention away from her, some with a pitying look that made her want to snap the stems of their wine glasses. But they didn’t know her well enough to recognize that danger in her guarded expression. They continued talking endlessly about themselves. One was expecting a baby and had been pointedly not drinking all evening, looking over at Emily a few more times than necessary. She listened to them talk about their weddings and their nurseries and their plans to stop working as soon as their partners were making enough money. It was difficult but she managed to keep her mouth closed, to keep her biting comments to herself.

She was grateful when Aaron eventually appeared beside her, holding up her coat, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. She gulped the last of her wine, setting it down alongside the other glasses which had long sat empty. Fully aware that she was drawing the attention of everyone in the room, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him sloppily on the cheek.

“Bye, ladies,” she half waved as she slipped into her jacket and focused on not stumbling as she made her way to the front door. Aaron followed close behind, thanking the hosts one last time before catching up to Emily who had already disappeared around the corner.

Once outside, they were quiet at first, walking down the sidewalk with their arms looped together. The cautious tension was back. They had barely interacted during the party, each being drawn in opposite directions by the crowd. Then Emily made a joke about the woman who’d worn her hat all evening, getting a snort in response. After that the words came more easily. They gossiped about the people they’d met, who Aaron knew from the office and who was new to him. The conversation shifted, became about how different, how adult these people’s lives seemed compared to theirs, all the milestones they were all already checking off. Emily grew quiet.

“We have a good life though, right?”

Aaron hesitated and it hurt.

“Aren’t you happy?” She felt like she was drowning.

“Of course I’m happy Em.” He was quiet again. “I’m just, I’m a little worried about you.”

This broke her heart but she did her best not to show it, instead jabbing him with her elbow in a way that was meant to be playful, but landed a little too hard with her uncoordinated limbs. “You don’t have to worry about me Aaron, I’m perfectly fine.”

He blinked at her doubtfully. She hated this hesitation that she’d put into his gestures. He was so careful with her now, afraid she might snap at any moment. She resolved to change that. From this point forward she was going to be good. She was going to be perfect. Aaron had gone through enough, suffered more than a lifetime’s worth of hurt in his first home, she wasn’t going to let that happen here. She would give him the life that he wanted, the life he deserved, full of good and normal things and supported by a partner who was capable and loving. She could do this, she’d do anything for him. She pulled him close, tucking her face against his neck, feeling his pulse, warm against the side of her cheek.

“I love you.”

There were so many more words she wanted to say, promises she wanted to make but this was all she could let out now or she knew she would start crying.

The strong smell of wine on her breath, her obvious unsteadiness made him a little wary, but he ignored the feeling. “I love you, too. Let’s get you home.”

She tried, she really really tried. The next couple weeks she put a renewed effort into finding a job. Gritting her teeth and calling some of her mother’s contacts even. She managed to find something small, teaching art at an after school program. Not what she’d be doing long term by any means but it felt good to have a schedule, somewhere she was expected to be. It didn’t hurt that the creations the kids came up with made her laugh. Now she had stories to share, the after work decompression time wasn’t just one sided. She’d catch herself smiling at odd moments, rubbing at the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand exasperated but not displeased.

Things were better, easier, life had fallen into a natural rhythm rather than erratic bouts of arguing and silence. They laughed as they cooked together. Glasses of wine on the couch were for ambiance, not the blind chase of oblivion. They fell asleep in each other’s arms instead of opposite corners of the mattress. She told herself it didn’t matter that she sometimes laid awake, his breathing soft in her ear as she stared out into the black night, a street light glowing faint and sickly across the street. It didn’t matter that she was biting her lips and tasting blood, forcing her breathing to be even, to remain unmoving. She would just refuse to let the weight of his arms feel like suffocation, refuse to acknowledge the fevered desire to run. She would simply not acknowledge the doubts trying to creep into her newfound peace.

Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever, even for someone as stubborn as Emily Prentiss.

She was waiting for him on the couch when he walked in the door, her nails bitten ruthlessly down to the quick, her eyes unable to focus on any one object for more than a few seconds. As soon as she heard him she jumped up, pacing towards the window and back. Aaron, about to kick off his shoes, paused to look at her.

“What’s up?” he asked cautiously. She’d been high strung all week, snapping at him one moment, turning back with tears the next. It had been a disappointing but not completely unexpected turn from the peaceful time they’d been having. Despite her best efforts, Aaron had seen how she was still unraveling at the edges. He knew how hard she was trying though and let her take the lead, as he always had. If she wanted to pretend things were finally working out, he wasn’t going to be the one to stop her. But, sure enough, they’d ended up back here anyway.

She looked at him, then away, continuing her anxious path around the living room.

“Emily.” He gently caught her hand, reaching for the other when she stopped moving and turned toward him.

She took a deep breath. “Something’s wrong Aaron.”

“I can see that,” he replied, his mouth a firm line, eyebrows drawn together. He guided her back to the couch, pulling her down so they were sitting side by side, his knee bumping against hers. “Talk to me.”

She chewed her lip for a moment, looking at their hands as she ran her thumbs over his knuckles. She opened her mouth like she was about to speak but then shut it and stood up abruptly. Aaron sighed and leaned back against the cushions, crossing his arms as he watched her frantic movements. She made another few passes around the room before stopping at the window, leaning her hips back against the frame as she glared at him. Her fingers wrapped around the sill, turning white as she gripped too hard. She ground her teeth on the words she couldn’t get to come out.

“Something happen at work?”

She shook her head.

“Your family?”

She gave him an odd look before shaking her head slightly. He felt all the moisture in his mouth dry, anticipating what was coming.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You think?”

They’d talked about this. Kind of. Late at night, whispering into the dark their fantasies like children’s wishes: a house, a yard, a dog, a baby. But they hadn’t planned in the light of day, hadn’t seriously discussed what it would mean. He felt unreasonably betrayed, like she had jumped into a freezing lake before him, pulling him down with her. He knew this was unfair and wrestled the emotion down, trying to focus on the issue in front of him, the way her eyes were shining with a mixture of excitement and fear. He hated that she was afraid.

“Are you mad?” She never missed what he thought were well concealed emotions.

He sighed, “No, of course not. I’m just…I’m surprised. I thought that that wasn’t really possible at the moment?” he said vaguely, cautious of what might be the incorrect thing to say.

“Yeah well so did I,” her response was sharp; he was right to be nervous. They looked at each other, trying to gauge what would be the spark that would burn this down. They needed each other, again and again over the years they’d found that to be true, but they’d never figured out how to adjust gracefully, always running into these harsh clashes of uncertainty.

“You’re not sure though?”

Her shoulders hunched up around her ears.

Ever practical but doing his best not to sound patronizing, “Have you taken a test?”

She threw up her hands and began her circuit of the room, muttering to herself.

“I’m just asking,” he sounded defensive but he couldn’t help it. Her emotions were too high, he felt his own starting to get the better of him. He could feel a migraine’s slow pulse behind his eye, a panic tightening around his lungs. He didn’t want to fight but he also didn’t know if he wanted this.

“The test wasn’t clear. But also it’s kind of early to know.”

“Should you see a doctor?”

She glared at him, arms wrapped tightly around her middle. “I already made an appointment.”

“Good,” he took a breath. “That’s great. When is it? I’ll take you, I just need to the time off approved.”

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, unnecessarily cruel. She didn’t try retract them even though he looked back at her like she had slapped him.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. His hand flexed, fingers spread wide then curled back in. He was clearly counting his breaths, staring hard at a point on the floor several feet to the right of her.

She watched him struggle to keep his control. She’d rarely seen him angry, he kept such a tight rein on that side of himself. She wasn’t worried he would hurt her, but still, she didn’t know what to expect.

“That—” he started but couldn’t continue. He closed his eyes, another deep breath. When he opened them, he looked directly at her, eye contact burning with furious intensity. “That wasn’t what I meant.” He stood up, movements painfully stiff as he adjusted the cuffs of his shirtsleeves. “I can’t be here right now.”

Emily was too shocked to counter, only nodding her understanding. Unwilling to apologize even though she knew she should. He held her gaze a moment longer, looking for something or perhaps trying to tell her something. She felt scattered, unable to think past her fear and frustration. When she stayed silent, his mouth pressed into a grim line. He walked for the door, picking up his keys and coat where he’d just dropped them. Pausing midway through unlocking the door, he leaned his forehead against it.

“I love you, Emily.”

He didn’t wait to hear her response before he was out the door.

“I love you too,” she whispered to the empty doorway, tears carving a traitorous path down her face.

The smell of onions and garlic woke Emily from the nap she’d fallen into after she’d grown tired of crying. She went to the bathroom to splash water on her face, trying not to dwell on the way her eyes were red-rimmed and her hair hung limp. She rubbed her face with the towel impatiently. This was hardly a time to be worried about her appearance. She hadn’t heard Aaron come home and she was deeply relieved that he was both back and calmed down enough to be cooking.

When she entered the kitchen, his back was to her as he stood over the range, monitoring a pan of vegetables. She saw a half unpacked paper bag of groceries on the counter and went over to finish emptying it. Along with some basics and a bottle of wine she found a package of pregnancy tests, the box proclaiming to be able to detect the earliest stages of pregnancy. She traced it with a fingertip, picking at the edges.

“I’m sorry I left.”

She looked up and he was standing beside her, having moved close in that unsettlingly silent way he had. She shook her head, “No, it was my fault. I…I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have been such a dick to you.”

A corner of his mouth lifted up, “I guess you have a point there.”

“I mean, you weren’t exactly Mr. Perfect either,” she started to tease but then felt shy, nervous that they hadn’t repaired things enough for her to do so. He wasn’t smiling anymore. Instead he was looking down at the counter with intense interest.

“I wasn’t expecting that kind of news. Not yet.”

She sighed. “It might be a good thing, right? Maybe we can try?”

She looked so hopeful as ice crept over his heart. He couldn’t let her know how that idea terrified him more than any other. He felt like his blood had frozen and his whole body might collapse. Him, a father? He didn’t know what a father did. He’d have no one to follow, to call for back-up. He only had his own deeply damaged experiences to guide him. At best he knew what not to do, but that was far different from knowing the right things to do, the right ways to raise a child with all the love and understanding they deserved. Would that ever be possible for him?

He was brought out of his thoughts by the touch of her hand wrapped around his. He could feel her trembling, could hear the way her breath caught, her fear as great as his, complex for different reasons but just as potent.

“Maybe we can try?” she sounded apprehensive, afraid her optimism would be met with ridicule or dismissal.

He nodded, gripping her thin fingers tighter, feeling the strength in her hands, the determination growing, bringing back the person he knows. The fearless Emily, ready to jump without looking into any adventure, knowing she would be able to find her footing when she landed.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said softly, pulling her towards him. They stand chest to chest, her arms wrapped around his neck, his grazing her waist. Their foreheads leaned against one another, just breathing for a moment, safe together once again.

In the quiet they could hear music coming through the walls, a neighbor’s speakers turned up loud. They began to sway and he hummed along, following the way the notes rose and dipped. The sounds and vibrations wrapping them in the warmth of this moment, the rest of the world beyond notice. She leaned her head against his shoulder while he rested his chin on the crown of her head, staring out into their kitchen without really seeing anything. The song was familiar and by the second verse their swaying became a little more, bodies still so close they brushed chests, thighs. He held her left hand up, his free hand wrapped around her waist. The song was still half whisper but they could hear it well enough to follow a few steps around the kitchen as the the vegetables sizzled. Emily laughed as he circled them close enough to give it a quick stir. He grabbed back on firmly, kissing her forehead as they turned around the room once again. The chorus repeated one last time as he lifted his arm to twirl her which she did, ducking her head to hide her smile. When he pulled her back in it was with a kiss, deep and too full of meaning. They were both breathless when it ended.

He cupped her face with his large hands, “You’re all I need. We can get through anything, you just have to trust me.”

She swallowed hard. “I can do that."

“And I,” he closed his eyes, “I will trust you.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #college au #young hotchniss

16 notes · View notes

curiousconch · 3 years

Text

Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 1)

Part 1: Burning on the Edge of Something Beautiful

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Alex finds herself personally affected by the Rothswell case and Gabe attempts to find out why.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 1.8k+

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / implied sexual content, alcohol consumption

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogues belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

Wednesday Evening at McGraw Byrne

Back from a day in the courts, Gabe stepped out of the elevator and into the halls of McGraw Byrne. Eager to finish the day's work, he passed by the break room where he unwittingly heard something that made him instantly halt.

"Did you see how clammed up Keating became when you asked her that question?" Gabe heard Vanderweil's deep voice.

"Actually, I sensed something irked her during the ride back. Seems like I did strike a chord," a serious female voice replied, which Gabe presumed was Sinclair's.

He made the assumption that the line of conversation was about their visit to the Rothswell's mansion. Earlier that day, the law firm's major client Philip Rothswell, demanded that they see to the whole Lydia and Joey situation. So Gabe and Sadie instructed the associates to go see the young heiress, trying to give the firm more time to create a more solid strategy than playing family counselor.

When they were placating Rothswell, he noticed how Alex fidgeted in her chair as she listened to their client. The way her body pulled up every defensive stance in the book full with meaning.

Seems that what he just overheard confirmed his suspicions. Something was bothering Alex Keating. And like all things Alex, it piqued at his curiosity.

It irked him that he did, more than he was willing to admit. Seems like even as trivial as office gossip, as long as its about her, Gabe is guaranteed to take notice.

Hastening his strides, he continued on to his plush new office, the setting sun coloring the wood furnishings with a hue of orange. He tossed his briefcase on the khaki couch, his leather soles padding on the clean white carpet. Loosening his tie, he crossed the room towards his desk. He took off his coat, hanging it on the rack nearby and turned to face the glass walls which offered a much better view of the concrete jungle below.

His mind whirred as he rationalized with himself as to why he was so invested with Alex. He initially chalked it up as a familiar, primal response to her... attractiveness. Yet as he watched her emerge from every pressure test and challenge he and Sadie gave her, he can't help but root for her.

It's not just that. After a long time, Gabe wanted to be near someone. He wanted to hear what bothers them, their goals, even their history. A level of interest he never exhibited to his usual carnal pursuits.

She stirred up something sleeping within him, something he willed never to return.

Consumed by the thoughts of her, Gabe finds himself glancing at his Rolex and hatching a guise to know what made the mighty Alex Keating got so worked up about.

Sometime later, uptown New York

"Alex... Have you ever had someone like Joey mess with your head? It's not about smart or stupid," Gigi had asked.

Alex poked her fork at the piece of chocolate soufflé as her mind whirled back to the ride back to the office.

"I'm not buying you any more of that Riesling if you wouldn't even bother being a worthy companion," Gabe teased, before downing another glass of scotch across her.

Her head immediately perked up, breaking free from her introspection. Alex forced a smile in response.

"As if another glass would make a dent in your indomitable fortune," she leaned back, trying to hide her thoughts under the façade of her sarcasm, rolling her eyes at him for added effect.

The two find themselves in a swanky New York restaurant, its upscale interior design worthy of the five star Yelp rating. The sleek tables and gray scandinavian chairs made Alex grateful that her wine red dress fit among the crowd. With a private booth overlooking the city lights and the delicious gourmet food served, she did not regret accepting Gabe's dinner invitation to meet a client.

Her mind decided that more work and Gabe's company was a great way to distract herself from the nagging of her memories, and it didn't hurt that the senior partner was easy on the eyes.

And when the supposed big shot canceled at the last minute, Alex completely saw it as a win.

"Something bothers you." Gabe suddenly articulated, breaking her from her contemplations.

Alex's brow arched in reply, as Gabe stated it like a fact, not as a question.

Crossing her legs under the table, she folded her arms across her chest.

"And why does that concern my pretend-boyfriend, hm?" she interjected, hoping to evade his interrogation.

"You're not the only astute one in this booth," Gabe let his eyes trail across her defensive stance the second time today.

Throughout the course of their meal, the heat between them simmered as well as the flow of their usual banter. Their chemistry was palpable, convincing even the waiter of the restaurant. The cocky man was certainly redefining the phrase hot and cold for Alex. He quickly and easily shut down her attempts to flirt, pulling back when the temperature between them reached a boiling point.

But Alex was more surprised, pleasantly so, when Gabe briefly opened up about his past and the vague explanation of why he's still not settled down.

She sensed the current trajectory of their conversation was what Gabe planned to have all along.

But now, as she swirled the remaining expensive liquid in her glass, trying to decide whether to put her guards up or to just give in, she couldn't deny the uncharacteristic softness in his gaze. It was magnetizing, making Alex want to fold and drop her pretentions.

She watched him as he seemed to eagerly anticipate for her retort, a half smile lingering on that pretty mouth of his.

Alex knew he won't push her if she didn't want to, yet a part of her wanted to share the heaviness that weighed on her shoulder since meeting Lydia Rothswell. Of how much the teenager reminded her of her old, naïve self.

She's been trying to rack her brain for a reasonable explanation for her growing desire to introduce herself to Gabe more than she'd allowed the string of men that she had trysts with. Despite her continuous self-denial, her gut is telling her that Gabe wasn't like any other she crossed paths with.

Making up her mind, she decided to let the door open. Maybe just a little.

She sipped her wine beckoning some needed courage, wishing that she ordered something stronger.

Taking a deep breath, she began, her eyes fixed on the view behind him.

"Since you were wondering, my otherwise impeccable track record is stained by one mistake," she paused, finally turning her gaze to Gabe's waiting eyes.

"Like Lydia, I trusted the wrong person," she continued. "I... risked everything and got nothing."

Gabe's mouth twitched ever so slightly, sensing a fluttering in him because of Alex's candor. There was no trace of the witty comebacks he'd grown to see in her, only vulnerability.

And somehow, he adored her more.

He watched her as she bit her thumbnail, an action greatly contradicting the fiery personality she projected in front of everyone else.

Alex gritted her teeth as she fought back the overwhelming emotions as she stopped herself from revealing more than she's prepared to. Not yet, not tonight, she thought.

"But I woke up from that nightmare, solemnly swearing to myself that I wouldn't repeat the same wrong decision that almost railroaded my whole future," she concluded, determined not to expose herself any further.

A hush fell between them.

Alex raised her head to meet the eyes of the man that made her walls crack, expecting to find intrigue. Instead, she found a subtle look of understanding.

It's as if it was telling her that he knew. He knew every pain and every hurt that she wanted to just forget and bury inside a box, never to be opened again.

Just because for him, pain was a familiar companion. That like her, he too, has been through hell and back.

And while she relished under his attention, her breath slowed, letting herself be trapped within the depths of those reassuring brown eyes. Alex thought nothing can make her drop down her guard, but Gabe's next actions proved that there's still more he can do to break down her walls.

Without thinking, Gabe reached for her hand and took it in his, skimming his own thumb on her knuckles in an attempt to comfort her. He smiled warmly at her, expressing a gentleness that she never thought he was capable of.

It made Alex's heart skip a beat.

Even Gabe seemed to slowly enter the same daze, unable to veer away from Alex's unguarded view. Any remnants of his resistance, leaving him. He found himself leaning in, lured by the heady scent of her perfume - a mix of coffee, vanilla and jasmine. An unexpected combination that enticed him more to her.

For a few moments, their world stood still, as if they were on the edge of discovering something that all their lives they subconsciously sought.

Something more than any flirtation or any pursuit for lustful pleasure. Something more...

"More drinks, Gabe?" a familiar voice broke them from the temporary oasis that they pulled themselves in.

All of a sudden, they were sucked back to the reality of their actual surroundings. The noise of other patrons of the restaurant, the soft ambience of the lights overhead, and the fact that he was her current boss, and that she was under his professional supervision.

Gabe turned to James, their waiter, and refused the offer nonchalantly, and instead asked for their check.

"We should head back to the salt mines, the stack of work on my desk probably hasn't gotten any smaller since we left," Gabe casually said, erasing any trace of what just happened between them. Alex silently agreed, following his queue by checking her phone for emails.

The trip to the lobby was wordless, as well as the wait for their ride. Up until Gabe opened the door of the town car, not following Alex inside.

"Aren't you coming?" Alex inquired, briefly confused.

He cleared his throat, his expression stoic before he answered her. "I think its best if we part ways here. I wasn't kidding about needing to head back to the office," he paused, a look of contemplation in his eyes before it softly shifted to that of sincerity.

"You, on the other hand, should go home and get some rest. Partner's orders."

Alex couldn't help but smile. "Whatever you say, Gabe."

"Careful, Alex. I just might hold you to that promise one of these days," Gabe replied, the usual playfulness evident in his tone.

And with that, the door closed and the car pulled away.

But as Gabe watched the vehicle fade out of his sight, his phone pinged for an email. Glancing down at his screen, he saw the name of the sender, prompting him to open it in haste.

The message contained a single statement: "I found what you asked me to look for." An attachment was included.

When he opened the file, he saw a picture of a younger version of the woman he just parted from.

And a look of recognition passed over his face.

Author's Notes: This is getting a little canon divergent, though I'm just expanding their dinner conversation and using the intimate setting provided in the original book.

Tags: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @fucking-random1 @choicesficwriterscreations

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed on succeeding installments. If not, please reblog or comment, I'd really appreciate it!

#choices laws of attraction #choices fanfiction #choices loa #choices loa fanfiction #choices laws of attraction fanfiction #gabe ricci #gabe ricci x mc #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

50 notes · View notes

wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

...surprise

um okay so here I am trying angst again. this is kind of intended to be open ended bcos might have a part two at some point. im also lazy and has a few time jumps. also if someone could pls explain if you just get pics for the top of these off internet or credit on like gifs or something that’d be appreciated.

Summary: Tom comes home and everything is most definitely not the way he left, nor is it healthy

Warnings: please read with caution esp relationship with food / weightloss, but just generally a person in a bad bad head space, lots of self blame - then next parts will carry different warnings too

************************

Tom had been away for months. Months and months away from his girlfriend, separated entirely by his filming locations in Europe and America; while you were busy slowly and steadily climbing the ranks of your law firm. Being an intense period for the pair, you hadn’t managed to see each other in 2 and a half months. Of course, both go you were used to this - 3 years deep into a relationship between an actor and a wanna-be lawyer- this was the name of the game.

But honestly? You both just kept falling deeper and deeper, making the separation harder to deal with - rather than getting used to it as one might hope.

That's why Tom felt such an incredibly overwhelming wave of relief as he dumped his bags just outside his front door. Even though he was exhausted from the travelling, just the mere act of finally phishing out his housekeys brought a massive grin to his face - caused particularly by the sight of his tacky little keyring from a Moroccan market that you’d bought him. That had been your first holiday. There’s that old saying that before you move in with someone go on holiday first - Tom understood it to mean you supposedly see all the bad and ugly stuff people can hide from each other, a prewiring before committing to living in the same space. However that holiday all he’d learned was incredible you are to him. To his dying day, Tom will never forget the moment he looked over to his left when the two of you were on this night time stargaze in the depth of the Moroccan desert. Y/n had never seen stars like it, the skies so incredibly clear and lit up with an array of magical blues and purples and whites on its sark background. The sight, for no unexplainable reason, had you completely opening up to Tom about things she’d never told a single soul. And in that moment he’d had this sort of realisation. Not about how much he loved her - because that is just the cliche thing everyone says… and also just wasn’t true.

In that moment he’d rather realised the potential. The sort of ‘I’m not there yet but I know you could become the centre of my universe’. The sort of ‘I’m not ready to say this yet, but I want to spend my life with you’. The sort of ‘at some point in my life I’m not sure my heart will be able to beat without yours’.

He still hadn’t quite got to explicitly saying all that yet, by asking you for the ultimate commitment. But he planned to now he was coming back to you.

Even with the chill of the early evening winter air, Tom was almost ecstatic as he unlocked the door and let himself in. He hadn’t told you that he was coming home, you thought he had another two weeks on the job, but Tom was a bit of an old romantic - he loved seeing your eyes fill with wonder as he surprised you in whatever way. Sometimes it was as simple as a note on the fridge, or a small bouquet from behind his back or as fancy as a surprise holiday.

However, this time, though it was only 6 in the evening, all the lights of their house were off making Tom raise an eyebrow as he quietly slipped off his shoes - not wanting to scare Y/n just in case.

Tom had sworn when he’d been on the phone with you the previous day, you didn’t have any plans tonight but perhaps maybe a spontaneous pub trip and been offered with work colleagues. The house felt a little cold as he padded through it, poking his head into every room just to check Y/n wasn’t there. His last port of call was the bedroom.

By this point, Tom was pretty resigned on the fact you were out and he’d maybe cook a meal for when you got back or hide about the house or something. But instead, when he poked his head around this door, he sighed in delight at the sight of a still mound under the plush white sheets. For a brief moment, Tom paused, before tiptoeing steadily round to her bedside. The light was still off but the hallway light illuminated the room enough so he could make out your soft features and the messy ball of hair that had been haphazardly thrown in a bun. Furthermore, he could also notice in the light the packet of painkillers and migraine tablets lying opened on the bedside - which made him freeze. Y/n didn’t get migraines often at all, but when she did Tom knew just how bad they could be. That explained the fact you were spark out at six o’clock, making Tom give a sympathetic smile. He crept back out the room with a little spring in his step, deciding that since he had had a long day travelling he'd grab a snack and join you. Unfortunately though, when he enthusiastically yanked the fridge open the sight was a rather depressing one. He didn’t really know what he was craving but the fridge contents were of almost no use to anyone. The place was bloody baron, apart from a tub of butter and of course his special beers that Y/n would never dare touch. With a small huff though, Tom resigned himself to some bread and butter, before getting ready for bed.

It was probably an hour later when Tom was carefully crawling under the duvet to settle in beside Y/n after the disappointing snack and maybe a solitary ‘welcome home beer’ - it would be rude not to. God was he excited to just have his girlfriend in his arms again though. So, Tom naturally reached over and powerfully yet gently pulled you back towards him - making your back flush with his as you mumbled something incoherent. Chuckling slightly at your apparent annoyance of being disturbed, Tom pressed a kiss to her temple before settling down momentarily.

But something wasn’t quite right, making Tom shuffle about a bit - ever adjusting huis grasp on your waist as he attempted to get comfy. With the migraine medications forcing you into a deep deep sleep you barely stirred and that just made the unease increase for Tom. Because you didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel right. Ever so slowly Tom started to peel back the duvet from your body from his now sitting upright position. Typically, Y/n was wearing one of his hoodies, however more concerningly it seemed to pool and collect around your frame more than normal.

Now, Y/n was never the most petite person in the world - by no means overweight, instead of beautiful curves and muscle. To Tom now though, it was as if someone had literally shrunk you - like a picture on a word document you needed to make narrower to fit the margins. Even in the dim light of the bedroom he know realised you looked pale. Honestly, Tom didn’t know how long he just sat there staring at you, until you sighed a little and pulled the duvet back up to just under your chin.

He didn’t know what to think or do. All he knew was you didn’t look well and that you hadn’t said a thing to him. Feeling so very uncomfortable within himself, Tom climbed out the bed and simultaneously grabbed his phone. He knew he had to call someone, to check that you hadn’t been ill - but then who to call? Someone that wouldn’t judge or instantly worry- your mum was completely off the cards. Also, he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yet, so really he knew there was only a couple of options who were close enough to him too.

“Hey what’s up?” “Um nothing much, back in the UK though so-“ “Oh shit really! Kept that one quite bro” “Yeh well came back to surprise Y/n” “Oh you're soooo whipped” “Fuck off Haz, have you um… have you seen her recently anyway?” “You're asking me if I’ve seen your girl while you’ve been away?” “I’m being serious. You’re pretty much brother and sister and I’m -I’m a bit worried.” “What? You know she wouldn’t cheat especially with me” Haz’s tone turned less serious, using a goofy accent “ I know too much.” Haz still attempted to lighten the mood, this conversation very unexpected and making him grow more and more concerned himself. “Haz quit it. I’m worried she’s been ill. I’ve come in and she’s asleep with a migraine but there’s no food in the fridge and she’s skinny as hell.” “Fuck er sorry I didn’t realise. But um no she’s been cancelling on us for the past like two weeks cos like…I don’t know said she was just snowed under at the firm so” “But before then?” “No yeh she was fine. Went to the pub a couple times and she always drove so didn’t drink but nothing weird - think she wanted to keep a clear head. What are you thinking?” “I don’t know to be honest mate. She seemed fine on the phone but I swear to god she looks half the size of what she was when I left.” “Just talk to her in the morning? She probably is just stressed if work has been mad busy.” Tom hummed in agreement, half trying to convince himself too. “Yeh yeh, sorry for bothering you.” “Oh shut up mate - I’ll see you both at your parents for the roast tomorrow? Sams got some new recipe I think, he’s been wittering on about it for days.” “Yeh we’ll be there, see you then mate.”

After signing off to Haz, Tom placed his phone on the little table on the upstairs hallway and sighed. He knew he was being over-protective but he couldn’t help it. Y/n was always the one to care for him, in fact to care for everybody int he room and then some.

He’d get to the bottom of whatever this was tomorrow, and so the rest of the evening Tom spent rather unhappily get ready before bed yet again before climbing back in next to you.

///////////////////////////

Tom woke before you, a combination of jet lag and the worry in the pit of his stomach meaning he stirred awake first. Instinctively he pulled you closer and nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck as he slowly began to wake up properly - shrugging off the grogginess. Tom was still really excited for you to realise he was back, predicting you to excitedly hug him ever so tight and then spend the morning between the sheets. He knew you found the distance tough, especially when all your closest friends were coupled off, it meant you just didn’t have ‘your person’. It was almost as if you were single again and instead of pining over an ex, hopelessly and completely in love with someone across the globe. But that just made your time together even more invaluable and precious.

So even with his slight unease at your slimmer silhouette, Tom didn't have any control over the loopy grin that came to his face as you started to stir and mumble something incoherent, all the while (and subconsciously) inching closer towards him. By the slight fluttering under your eyelid, Tom knew you were waking up and so took the moment to tuck your frizzy bed hair behind your ear. Sighing contently Y/n’s eyes fluttered completely open and Tom met your gaze with the most gently of smiles.

However, he then watched moment by moment as your expression morphed for one of peacefulness and content, through confusion, and ending at pure terror. He had barely thought of asking you why, before you yelped, throwing yourself up into a sitting position and backing as far away on the bed as you could from Tom. “TOM... I-you can’t be here! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE!” “Y/n hey what’s wrong-“ “GET OUT! G-GET THE FUCK OUT! YOU CAN’T BE HERE” you yanked the bedsheets to completely cover your huddled up body, as if trying to protect yourself. At this point, tears were streaming down your face and what truly terrified Tom was the expression of horror in your eyes. He threw his hands in the air and unsteadily stumbled to his feet. “O-okay I’m-“ “GET OUT!!! YOU CAN'T SEE ME GET OUT!” Completely bemused and shocked, Tom just nodded jerkily -already halfway out the door and accidentally slamming it in haste.

He had absolutely zero clue what that was about. But what he knew for a fact? He’d never ever seen you like that… you looked so completely terrified… of him? Tom couldn’t for the life of him work out what the hell was going on, as he paced from the shut door to the hallway wall and back again, running his hand through his hair throughout. He could hear you sobbing and whisper yelling - presumably at yourself. It felt as though his heart was being torn out, seeing you that upset and it appearing as his fault? He was acting on pure instinct and adrenalin because your pain hurt him too. He had no control of the physiological response in his body, making his hands shake and breathing increase in speed as it inversely got shallower too.

And so he took a short inhalation, biting his bottom lip as he knocked on the door. “Y/n?….” He got no response after waiting a couple of seconds so tried again - because he could hear you trying to stifle your sobs. After another two failed attempts he opted for a different approach. “Y/n… I’m worried about you… look, I know your upset right now but I need you to let me know your okay… or I’ll have to come in and…and I don’t want to spook you” “Don’t come in.” It was a sharp reply, with a voice that was cracked and clearly trying to keep It together. “Okay… I-I’m sorry if my surprise of coming home was a dumb idea…I-I’ve missed you.” Tom tried speaking softly, as he knelt down and sat with this back against the wall while nervously fiddling with his watch strap that he’d forgot to take off last night. Again he waited for a response but got nothing, again having to warn you he needed to know you were okay. He heard movements from the other side of the door, making him turn his head to the left, pressing his ear on the cool gloss paint. “I-I’m sorry” You barely were whispering, but Tom could sense you were now sitting in a position mirroring his “You don’t meed to apologise love” Returning her tone, Tom sighed at the end - trying to get his brain to process what was going on.

Y/n wasn’t one to overreact and Tom could count on one hand the number of serious fights they’d had in the three year romance. And even then, he was the one to raise his voice - when she argued it was more reasoned, slow and controlled. Actually it was one of the things that in those moments infuriated him even more - you were just so level headed and sensible. Scratch that, sensible purely in this context - everywhere else you were just as loopy as him. So this situation felt so very alien. He didn’t know how to help you and he bloody hated feeling useless.

After a few moments, you replied to apologise once again, for shouting specifically, and Tom nodded - not that you could see. But that was one of the things Y/n had taught him, sometimes you just have accept things - no matter the context. Accept he wasn’t actually a superhero and couldn’t do everything, accept that sometimes he could be a dick and out of line or accept an apology.

“Can you.. can you try and tell me why your upset? I want to help.” He was trying to be gentle, non-confrontational. But he knew something was so wrong. He needed to know so he could try and help out. “I…”Y/n began, but quickly trailed off, as if trying to formulate the words properly. “I’ve just been ill and” again another pause “and I haven’t been looking after myself very well. I just planned to be umm- to be better when you got back.”

It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t really the truth either, at least not the whole truth. But it wasn’t a lie.

“I’m not sure I understand why your so worried about what I think though?” Tom inquired, as he started to fiddle with the door handle in his left hand - as if easing the idea of coming into his girlfriend without scaring you. In reply, you sighed again trying to put the words together without explicitly spelling it out to him. “I don’t- I thought you’d just be disappointed or-or think I’m reliant on you. I’m not and I can handle myself I just…. I don’t know.” “I love you, you idiot.”Tom chuckled at that, while standing up. “Can I come in now please? I promise I’m not disappointed just want to help you feel better.”

The door opened and no sooner could Tom take a step forward than Y/n ran into his chest, wrapping herself tightly around him in apology. He knew that he didn’t have the full story but really didn’t want to push her, more preferring to just love her. So that’s what they spent the rest of the morning doing, in their pyjamas and watching TV. Quite obviously, she wasn’t really making a lot of conversation, Tom filled some gaps with talking about filming - to which she’d hum in agreement or chuckle along. But for the most part Y/n was concentrating on something else.

The all-consuming guilt. That was what was eating away at her.

part 2?

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland angst

273 notes · View notes

fittrition95 · 3 years

Text

I have Autism.

I actually had it since I was a baby but my parents never knew until I was an adult. I finally got diagnosed in 2018 at the age of 23 after seeing three therapist in my life who either didn't know my issue or thought I had Autism but wasn't treating me correctly. I wish I would of came out sooner but was afraid of what people would say.

Ever since I was a toddler, I was so good at masking my symptoms of Autism and pretending to fit in with other people that my parents were never told to take me to a professional for diagnosis.

Fun fact, my 3rd grade teacher actually said I had ADD so I ended up in special needs classes even though the classes were too easy for me (I was smart).

After being diagnosed with Autism, I did some counceling with the same lady who diagnosed me. I found out about her from the third therapist I saw when I was an adult.

I need up opening up more and because more communicative because of her and I can't be more grateful for her.

Here are symptoms I currently have since birth that are traits of Autism so you can understand who I am as a person:

1. Masking - hiding symptoms to fit in with others and not stand out to be different.

2. Communication issues - not doing well in group settings and other ways of communication. I actually am ok with talking on the phone depending on situation and if I need to talk to someone one on one, it is hard to start the conversation and keep it going unless it is about a topic I am passionate about. I would always write letters or send emails to my parents and other people in order to communicate along with text messages because I don't have to see the person's reaction. I also will have a hard time communicating while keeping eye contact so I will talk while staring at something else.

3. Stimming - humming, moving hands around, holding something, chewing on Objects, etc.

4. Sensory Issues - texture of foods and clothing, hearing (can hear anything loud or soft).

5. Small talk - practicing what I am going to say to someone in my head so I feel comfortable saying it when I do walk up to them. There would also be times where I would have the words in my head but I just say silent and stare at the person. Also, trying to talk to someone about my interest. If anyone talks about something I don't care about, I try to engage in the conversation but deep down I want to walk away.

6. Doing the same thing over and over - when I was a baby my parents said that I never crawled but instead rolled. I would start in the living room and end up in the kitchen. I would do this multiple times a day back and forth.

7. Starring at objects - I love fidgit spinners and other objects I can play with and see move over and over. I also love to see how different objects work so I would play and stare at it for a long time. I will end up not paying attention to others because of it.

8. Getting fixated on the same tasks - people with Autism have special interests and will focus on learning the interest in full. I do this with exercising (working out, gaining muscle/loosing weight), computers (tech, electronics), TaeKwonDo, Korean culture and language, adolescents and puberty, etc.

9. Getting overwhelmed with so many tasks - if someone gives me a big list of tasks to do, I will freak out and have to slowly go through the list one by one. Also, cleaning the dishes and my room takes a long time to do because it is a lot and it overwhelms me like crazy.

10. Meltdowns - I only do this when I am at home because I feel like I will get judged in public so when I get overwhelmed I will keep the feelings inside which developed stress. I will have meltdowns when I don't want something or things aren't going my way. When I was in fifth grade, I started having meltdowns and I would run to my room, scream, slam the door and trow objects. My parents would always yell at me and call me a "baby." Once the meltdowns happen, I will just need to be alone to let it happen but I really would love someone to just cuddle with me to make me feel better. When the situation is going on, my communication will just shut down and I won't be able to say why I'm upset until the end.

11. Plans for the day/week - every week I plan for what I am going to do that week and if any of that changes, I have to know at least three days in advance so I can reschedule or find something else. I don't deal well with last minute plans or changes because I will have a meltdown. One day, one of my fitness classes was cancelled an hour before I was to leave and I ended up having to do a class I did not want to do because I coukdn't find anything else that would work for my current schedule.

12. Changes in routine - similar to previous trait, but if I have been doing something the same way for a long time and it changes, I get frustrated. When we switched from one set of forms in TaeKwonDo to another, I was about to have a meltdown because I already learned five forms and then had to stop those forms and learn eight different ones before testing for Black Belt which I was already half way on the path. Also, if I go the same same place for years to do something and then I don't need to go there anymore or the place changes, I get overwhelmed for the first two weeks till I get use to the location.

13. Not expressing emotions or getting very emotional - when Someone is sad or something terrible happens in life, I will be upset but it is more internal. I also don't express my emotions like someone else would but if you yell at me, I will end up crying and will try to hide it until I am alone by myself in a room to process it. Whenever I would fall down outside I would not be upset because I can handle pain better than others. I also can handle vaccines like a pro ever since I was a kid.

I'm sorry this is long, but I just want everyone to understand who I am as a person. I know I have tried to have conversations with others and maybe they either didn't like me because I only said a few words or they just didn't understand why I acted the way I did so I hope this post helped you out.

#autism #autism spectrum disorder #autism symptoms

28 notes · View notes

sushinoyuhh · 3 years

Text

Gardenias.

Haikyuu Various x Reader

Credit to the artist who made that ↑

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Synopsis + Characters

Various Haikyuu boys show you their love on Valentines Day!

≪��◦ ❈ ◦•��

Characters: Kuroo, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Akaashi, Atsumu, and Suna.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Genre and Warnings

Genre: Romance, very slight nsfw undertones.

Warnings: slight angst on Iwa’s part

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tetsurō Kuroo

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You sat in the classroom, mindlessly looking through the window beside you. A hum escaped your lips while listening to light chatter being passed around the occupied classroom. It was Valentines Day, so of course the girls in the classroom were squealing about what their boyfriends or girlfriends did for them. Of course you feel a little envious. Your own boyfriend hasn’t said a word to you this whole day.

You felt as if either he forgot or he’s just not caring about this special day. You sighed, tapping your foot against the floor. You became annoyed with the sudden outcome of this day. ‘I’d be fine with just a card, you know..’ you thought to yourself. Suddenly, several gasps started to make its way through the room. Cocking a brow, you turn to right to see your own boyfriend standing in the door way.

Your mouth dropped. There stood your boyfriend, Kuroo, with a freakishly larger teddy bear in one hand, with a big bouquet of roses and chocolates in the other. Now he walked up to you with such a sweet and caring grin.

“Hey shortcake~ sorry I didn’t get this too you sooner. It was a long walk to the florists..” he purred next to your ear, giving a quick kiss on your cheek afterwards. “No no, it’s fine..!” You gushed while taking the goodies he got you. Maybe he didn’t forget after all huh?

“Don’t worry chibi-chan~ I’ll be sure to treat you better later..~” he winked at you before leaving the classroom. At this point you were more red than a tomato at his smoothness. Suddenly it was the people in the classroom who were jealous now.

Tōru Oikawa

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The first thing you saw when you walked into the boys volleyball gym was a big bouquet of flowers shoved in your face. “Y-Y/N! Please except these!!” You saw your boyfriend, Oikawa, bowing down to you while shoving roses and gardenias in your face. “Tōru! No need to shout..” you said with a flustered giggle.

“Oh wait you actually liked that gesture? See Iwa she doesn’t want more!!” Oikawa looked behind him to glare eye his friend, “He couldn’t stop pestering me about how just roses and gardenias wouldn’t be enough.” You took the bouquet with a cheeky grin while shooting your head no. “These are just fine, Tōru.”

“But I do have one more thing. Meet me at the back of they gym after practice. Alright, little cutie~?” He pured while giving you a kiss on the cheek. You nodded quietly, feeling you cheeks heat up more.

After what seemed like forever, the practice had ended and you’ve already made it to the back of the gym. You looked at the ground, anticipating for what’s about the happened. You wondered what he could be planing, but nothing came to mind. Soon, you heard footsteps fall into place behind you. You saw your boyfriend with something in his pocket.

“Hey uhm,” He got in front of you and bent down on one knee, “I know we can’t marry now but I truly do want to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me so happy and I just can’t bare to see you with anyone else..” he pulled out this gorgeous butterfly promise ring. Before you knew it, happy tears already fell from your face. “Yes..” you whispered, putting the ring on your left pointer finger.

Hajime Iwaizumi

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the day before Valentine’s Day. The air had a slight lovingly buzz to it, yet your heart couldn’t feel the same. Your boyfriend, Iwaizumi, has been acting a little differently towards you lately. He’d been canceling dates and constantly on his phone lately. A part of you couldn’t help but think he’s cheating on you. Whenever you came up to him, he would frantically put his phone in his pocket. You would ask if everything thing is fine, but all that Iwaizumi would do was brush you off and change the subject. This behavior has gotten you sad and feel uneasy near him.

“You know, Y/N is going to think your cheating on them.” Oikawa said, spinning a ball in his hand. You weren’t the only one picking up on his behavior. “You realize how strange you’ve been acting near them, right..?” Iwaizumi tracked the ball, eventually landing a spike on it. “Wait what do you mean? I haven’t been...” he paused for a second. Everything came coming back to him. His weird behavior, him constantly checking his phone. “Shit.”

Meanwhile, you walked into the boys volleyball gym. You weren’t expecting much, just to be once again ignored by your boyfriend. Instead of trying to pin point his location, all you did was casually walk to the bench. “Y/N!!” Iwaizumi called out your name while jogging up to you. “What do you want.” You said coldly, turning away from him.

“Please, hear me out Y/N...I know what you’re probably thinking..no, I am not cheating on you-” Iwaizumi was cut off, “then what am I supposed to think? You’ve been sneaky around me, hiding your phone from me, and hanging out with me less! Then what are you doing, Iwa.”

Iwaizumi tensed at your accusations. I mean, you weren’t wrong. It’s true, he has been acting like that for a while now. “Babe, I was trying to get tickets for that local carnival that’s going to pop up on Valentine’s Day! I’ve been super distant because it’s been hard just to grab two tickets. Apparently every other couple had the same idea as me..” Iwa told you. Your face slowly lit up, realizing everything meant know harm with his peculiar behavior. “Carnival..? Ah, thank you Iwa!!” You smiled cheekily as you engulfed your boyfriend in a sweet hug.

Koutarou Bokuto

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You looked at the vanity mirror in front of you, basking in your entire appearance. Today was Valentine’s Day and Bokuto had a date planned for you both. It was at night so, you had a few ideas for what might happen. “Planetarium date, night time picnic..?” You said softly too yourself. Ideas began swarming your mind before adjusting your outfit. Suddenly your phone began to buzz, notifying you someone is texting you or calling you. You picked it up, seeing your boyfriend Bokuto spam text you saying that he’s at your front door. You told him you’ll be right there and swiftly grabbed your bag filled with personal items. You made it downstairs and opened your door to see a very excited owl.

“Y/N!!” He chirped before grasping you in a big bear hug, “Are you really for our date, hun?” He asked with his big goofy grin. Ah, that smile. That smile could blind anyone or any cure disease it came across. “Yeah I am. Do you know where we’re going, Bo?” You closed the door behind you, locking it as well. “It’s a surprise,” he snickerd.

After what seemed like hours, you both arrived at the local park. Despite being night time, the park was buzzing with life. “You see, I don’t know much about space en-stuff like Kuroo, but there’s supposed to be a big meteor shower tonight..I thought you might be interested seeing it with me.” Bokuto looked away from you with pink dusting his cheeks.

“No I would love to see the meteor shower with you!” You smiled up at him before kissing his cheek. He giggled, leading you to a designated spot away from other people or couples. He pulled out a big picnic blanket from his own bag and spread it out on the lush grass. Once he finished, you sat on it with a soft smile. Eventually Bokuto joined you but he layed his head ontop of yours while intertwining his fingers with yours.

“It should be starting soon. Kuroo said it should be starting around nine or nine-thirty,” He said with his usual gleeful attitude. Nodding, you looked back at the dark painted sky speckled with white glowing stars. It was so gorgeous, it made a nice feeling well up inside you. It made you feel good to be alive with your boyfriend. “LOOK IT’S STARTING!!” Bokuto couldn’t help but shout happily while pointing to the left of you both.

One by one, shooting starts began to dance around the barely lit sky. Softly illuminating the sky for you. Each shooting star began to happily show its own dance, fading in and out whenever it wanted to. Your eyes had marvled at the spectacular event. Suddenly you felt a hand under your chin, guiding your line of sight to face your boyfriend. After a quiet session of kissing him softly, he let go of it. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N...”

Keiji Akaashi

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was all so..astonishing. The home cooked food, the flickering of the cherry smelling candles, the arrangement of roses and gardenias, the soft romantic music in the background...everything seemed to be so handled with care and planned out neatly. But you’d expect nothing less from the amazing Keiji Akaashi. You patted your lips with cloth napkins, you couldn’t help but notice that smelled of cherries too. A lot of things were red so something cherry smelling wasn’t so surprising. “Please, I want to say thank you! This was all so amazing..I-” little happy tears began to prick the corner of your eyes. You felt overwhelmed with love and joy.

A soft smile formed on Akaashi, “it’s really nothing. I wanted to do something special for you, so I thought that maybe this would be something good. He motioned his hand to sway around the dinner table and room. “Oh uhm, are you done? I want to show you something.” He smiled a little wider as he stood up. You nodded while watching him pick up the dirty plates of food and dessert.

Eventually, he asked for your hand. Of course you complied with a smile. He guided you to the open space in his living room. “I’ve gotten a new stereo,” he took the remote next to hit and turned it on, flipping through songs afterwards. You glanced at him and then the new stereo. It was slick and clean. It definitely looked new.

A song started playing. It was quite familiar, it sounded like something you heard on the radio or a friends playlist. “Would you have this dance..?” Akaashi looked at you with his teal eyes. You nodded, eventually falling into a perfect stance for dancing. The song started playing as you started swaying. Your head rested on his shoulder. This was probably what heaven felt like, or is. Dancing in the dark with your boyfriend, feeling nothing but his warmth and love..yep, definitely heaven.

“I love you, angel..”

Atsumu Miya

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You see, while others got homemade chocolates and beautifully decorated floral arrangements, you’ve gotten..almost nothing. All you’ve gotten today was obligatory chocolates and a few friendly cards made for everyone in your class. Part of the reason you never really liked Valentine’s Day. You’ve never gotten anything more than a “happy Valentine’s Day!” Or “Can you please past these on?”.

This year was no different. You’ve actually already had someone ask to past these onto someone. You said no but it still bothered you. The end of the day came to a start and you eventually made it to the boys volleyball gym. You’re the manager so your obligated to get there before anyone else. Taking out the key, you held it out to the key hole but the door was already open. ‘Have I forgotten to lock up? No that’s impossible, Kita watched me.’ Thinking, you furrowed your bows.

The gym was very well lit up. “Someone is probably here.” You mumbled before speaking in a more louder tone, “Is anyone here!?” There wasn’t a response after you called out. Just a rustling in the storage closet. Atsumu on the other hand started to sweat. “Did they hear me? Ah shoot, this was supposed to be perfect..” he sighed softly while hearing your footsteps grow closer and closer to the storage closet. He saw the door open gently and the lights fully flicker on.

“A-Atsumu..!” You gasped, looking around the perfectly decorated room. There were roses all of the floor while all the other places were occupied with dimly lit candles and other red, pink, and white decorations. “W-who is this possibly for..?” You said, looking around. A part of you wished it was for you. You’ve had a crush on Atsumu for a while now, but you wouldn’t dare tell him. Not while the chance of rejection still stands.

“T-this is actually for you..” Atsumu looked down at you with an embarrassed expression. This was supposed to be a surprise but you got here early..” he pouted. “For...me?” You blushed profusely, looking at him with your jaw dropped. “Do you like it?” He asked. “Like it..? No, I love it! This the best thing anyone’s ever done for me, thank you..!” You cheered, eventually pressing your lips against his cheek. He smiled cheerfully, eventually pressing his lips onto yours. ‘Best Valentine’s Day Ever..’

Rintarō Suna

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You sat on the bench near the schools entrance with a patient gaze. You also couldn’t help but hear the grotesque snickers of girls off to the side of you. They were going on and on about how you didn’t seem to have a partner this Valentine’s Day. They also did a poorly job hiding their snarky laughter and teasing expressions with their dollar store bouquets and small stuffed bears. It also didn’t help that you could see their expressions either. They looked at you with such a discountenanced attitude, it made you feel vunrable.

You sighed, this’ll all be over when your boyfriend gets you, wherever he may be. Unfortunately you might go to different but neighboring schools. He’d often pick you up early but this time he was running late of all days. You groaned to yourself, still subconsciously listening to those girls awful assumptions about you. Soon, you hear sounds of louder gasps and the sound of a skateboard.

There he is, your wonderful boyfriend coming to your aid on a skateboard and wait..a freakishly large bouquet of flowers and a teddybear? It almost looked like it was taller than you. “Hey babe, sorry I’m late. The teddybear slowed me down.” He sighed before kissing you on the cheek. “Why thank you!!” You said obnoxiously. The girls near you had angry expressions now. Suna cocked a brow, “huh? Why are you..” he glanced at the girls beside the two of you.

“Ah that’s it.” He said with his usual deadpan look. Although you could of a swore he made a tiny smile. He got closer to your lips, forming a public makeout session near the girls. Now you heard them whine that their boyfriends could never compare. He let go softly, licking his lips too. “Sorry of those girls have you any trouble. Here, let’s get out of here.” He winked at you while handing your bouquet and skateboard.

“Yeah let’s get out of here.” You said with a blush. You smile as you grabbed his hand and started skating off. You looked behind you, giving a cheery smile and a nice big middle finger. That’s what you get for messing with Suna’s girlfriend/boyfriend/joyfriend. “Hey.” Suna called out to you with a soft look in his eyes, “if anyone gives you a hard time, tell me. I’ll handle it.” You looked at him with sparkles in your eyes, nodding with a soft smile.

woooo, I’m finally done! this took way to long, anyways enjoy!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#y/n x haikyuu #kuroo tersurou #oikawa torū #bokuto koutarou #akaashi keiji #miya atsumu #kiyoomi sakusa #suna rintarō #iwaizumi hajime #daichi sawamura #anime #valentine’s day #valentine’s event #valentine fic

33 notes · View notes

realfitreallife · 3 years

Text

Visit Day

I had to remind myself to breathe as I stared at myself in the mirror. The small bathroom was boring and bland but clean at least, I ran my hands through my hair and straightened my shirt. I still couldn’t believe I had made this trip. Nearly 2000 miles to meet someone I had deep feelings for.

A man I had never met face to face.

As I made my way back to my assigned seat, I took in the room around me. It felt more like a library then a prison. except for the security gates I had to cross outside to get in of course. Pod 20. Two seats separated by a thick cut out of plastic, there would be no contact. The rules were given and strict and failure to comply would result in abrupt cancellation of the visit, removal from state property and banned for any future visits.

I was absolutely the most nervous I had been in awhile. You see if I could pick and choose a man, build a bear but for a partner if you will....he would be almost exactly what I was looking for...minus the felony record and prison sentence of course but things are rarely ideal for me in any situation.

I had seen his record, he has always been super honest from the very beginning about why he was locked up and what his intentions were. The Penpal sites read more like dating app bios but its for inmates across the US. However he stated from the jump that he wanted only a friend. He told me he had pretty much give up on love, every time he felt like he might be falling in love with someone they ended up burning him bad. It caused him to have serious trust issues and no visitors in nearly two years, even before covid shut the world down.

He only talked to his brother, sister and occasionally the baby momma when she was feeling gracious. I fidgeting in my seat as the silence of the room almost overwhelmed me. Two other inmates were already seated and waiting for their loved ones but I was the only visitor yet. I thought about all the late night conversations and talks, all the jokes, laughter, and even tears. for 6 months I had sat vulnerable and completely honest about myself with this man. He knows about my demons, my insecurities and my goals. He has encouraged, supported, scolded and got on my ass in the ways that I need it. When I tell yall I could here my heart beating against my chest.

Just as I was lost in my head, I hear the outside door pop open shaking me back to the present, his face is covered by the mask but the minute we make eye contact the storm inside me stops. I stand up, awkwardly LOL because I can’t shake his hand or hug him but I really wish I could. I knew he was tall but he feels like a giant sauntering towards me right now, he is a foot and some extra taller then me. We both stand at the barrier, I can feel him looking me up and down as I am doing to him. We have never met face to face, only video visits that require sitting. His eyes are dark pools of caramel, but they’re deep and still my favorite thing about him. I watch the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles widely, I can’t see it because of the mask but I have his smile and laugh memorized.

I was worried about the initial vibe check, I am also worried about the feelings I carry for him. When communication is limited to conversations and phone calls, but your whole life you have felt like you needed to physically satisfy a man to make him fall in love with you, a long distance deal is very scary. The minute we made eye contact, I knew I couldn’t hide it any longer. The feelings weren’t just me convincing myself I loved him, they were real.

From the very first phone call, he told me he would never date me. I deserved better then someone locked up, and he had been cheated on every single time he had been to jail. As I sat down at this visitation, he pulled down his mask and told me I was tiny and lucky this was no contact because other wise he would eat me alive... I knew I was in love with him from the very first minute. I was in trouble for sure, love was not part of the plan. It didn’t matter though, and deep down I had kept telling myself all thee excuses why we couldn’t be together and now I sat just a few feet from him knowing damn well I was his.

I have prayed for this man since I was young, the prince charming who could make me laugh but still knew when to take charge and be tough. I was never the girl in love with the main character, in fact I always sympathized with the villian because when a person feels loved and secure they can do anything. This man can do anything, he just has never had someone believe in him. That breaks my heart, He is not an inmate, he is a human being! Someone's son, brother, father and above all he has chosen me to be his partner. I don't know why, or even understand it because we are so different. I sit in this bland boring room, behind barbed wire and armed guard because something in the very primal part of my soul screams that this man is the one for me, I peek at him over my mask, his deep dark eyes are looking at me, watching me, waiting, He has questions, but I can NOT breathe when he looks at me like that. Fantasies of being underneath him, taking all of him, flood my mind. I cant show him right now but someday I will.

He will know, without a doubt, he owns me. I am his.

11 notes · View notes

thebrochtuarachs · 4 years

Text

To Begin Again, Chapter 11: “Riding”

A/N: I know it's been a while since I updated this story but I hope you like this short little chapter. :) It's been fun revisiting this story and I just love this AU of Jamie and Claire. It’s been a while since I wrote so apologies in advance and as always, comments and suggestions are always welcome. Hope you're staying safe in this pandemic. Love always, M

This chapter is dedicated to @samncait4ever. 🧡 Thank you for being a wonderful friend and fandom ally. Rest in Peace. <3

AO3 / CH: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

XXXX

Jamie and Claire spent the next two days rekindling with each other inside the laird's room, only bothering to leave the chambers once to grab food from the kitchen that will last them for days.

They flitted through talking, eating, coming together, and sleeping ( not particularly in that order ) until they’ve reached another pause in what has been a blissful 2 days.

"Jamie," Claire said softly, a hand caressing the back of his head, "I don't think I've ever been so happy." Jamie rolled to one side, shifting his weight carefully so as not to squash his wife, and lifted himself to lie face-to-face with Claire.

"Nor me, my Sassenach," he said, and kissed her lightly, but lingering, so that she had time just to close her lips in a tiny bite on the fullness of his lower lip. "It's no just the bedding, ye ken," he said, drawing back a little at last. His eyes looked down at Claire, a soft deep blue like the warm tropic sea.

"No," Claire said, touching his cheek. "It isn't."

"To have ye with me again -to talk wi' you -to know I can say anything, not guard my words or hide my thoughts...God, Sassenach," he said, "the Lord knows I am lust-crazed as a lad, and I canna keep my hands from you-or anything else-" he added, wryly, "but I would count that all well lost, had I no more than the pleasure of havin' ye by me, and to tell ye all my heart."

Claire’s heart ached and soared with Jamie’s confession, much more to the fact that his sentiments echo to hers so strongly.

“So tell me all yer heart” Jamie said, “We’ve got time now”

Claire gave a small chuckle but moved to settle a bit more to Jamie’s side. "It was lonely without you," she whispered. "So lonely." She need not say more.

“Do ye regret it?” he asked, not really meaning to dampen their high but a question that came naturally in the conversation.

Claire didn’t even think about not answering but owed it to her and Jamie’s newfound strength to bring up these kinds of conversation in their reunion.

“The time we lost, yes. Brianna, no - definitely not.” She gave him a wry smile and continued. “There are so many what-ifs, the things we dreamed about happening, the future we planned… a part of me wonders what our life would be like if we stayed in the 18th century, raised Bree in that time with Jenny and Ian.”

“Aye, I do ken what yer saying. I spent a lot of time in the cave thinkin’ about ye and the bairn and what she’d look like, how ye’ll be as the lady of the house, something of the like’

Claire glanced at the window where the light was strong through the blinds, telling us that it was probably mid to past noon.

“Jamie, as much as I’d like to stay here another day, Bree’s coming in the evening and we need to get up and put our clothes on at some point.”

Knowing full well that Jamie won’t be the first to comply, Claire reluctantly got up and rummaged through the pile of discarded clothes on the floor to look for some undergarments and pants. Jamie was still not moving, staring at her with hooded eyes she knew so well but she would not budge as well.

“Oh, come on, get up!” She said laughingly as she pulled the blanket off Jamie’s body forcing him to groan in the cold. “There’s plenty more to see around! care for a stroll with me?”

“With ye, anywhere, Sassenach.”

Bree’s last class for the day cancelled allowing her to travel up to Lallybroch earlier than scheduled. Her parents' directions were fairly easy to follow and now, she found herself on the rough path towards a 3-story building that was meant to be her home.

She saw every detail as told by her mother - the arch that bore the Fraser emblem at the top, the handsome three-story manor of harled white, windows outlined in the natural gray stone, a high slate roof with multiple chimney’s and several smaller whitewashed buildings clustered about.

She took it all in and expected to feel all the history to overwhelm her but for some strange reason, it brought her a sense of peace and belonging.

She parked her car and proceeded to knock on the front door. After three tries and no answer, she decided to explore the backyard and found out why her knocks and calls were unanswered.

Over the horizon, Brianna saw two horses racing one another in the open field, the competition clearly fierce.

“You’ve lost your touch on the horse, Sassenach” Jamie called, looking briefly behind him to watch Claire.

Claire commanded her horse to a faster speed, easily surpassing Jamie, calling him out “Sorry, you were saying?” she laughed. “Race you to the stables!”

With her headstart, Claire ran out Jamie and won the race.

Once she dismounted her horse and led her white horse to her stable for some food and water while Jamie followed suit, dismounting from his black stallion.

“I should’ve known you were holding back from me, Sassenach.” Jamie said, walking towards her as she closed the door to her horse’s stables.

“Well, if last night was any indication, you shouldn’t have doubted that” Claire replied, allowing herself to be trapped as Jamie placed both his hands on the stable door, blocking her way.

"I thought you'd be a little sore but I seem to be mistaken" Jamie teased, leaning in for a kiss until -

“Mama! I’m surprised that you can ride...” Brianna began her question “... a horse!”

“Bree! You’re here! I thought you won’t arrive till nighttime” Claire pulled away from Jamie’s arrest and went to greet their daughter.

“Yeah, my last class got cancelled. Roger and Mrs. Graham will come in a couple of days.” she explained. “Hi, Da” Bree proceeded to give Jamie a brief hug as well.

“Well, it’s almost lunch, I think we have pork chops we can easily deep fry.”

“Sounds good.”

The trio walked back to the house where Claire proceeded to the fridge and told Jamie and Bree where everything else in the kitchen are.

“So, tell me about the house” Bree asked as they prepared their food.

Claire and Jamie proceeded to exchange stories, flitting between when Jamie’s father built it, to stories of the Fraser children being born in the house, to when they stayed there for a couple of months after they got married, how Jenny and Ian kept it in the family through the challenging years in the past and how Claire purchased and renovated to what it is now.

“It’s a rather large piece of land, that’s why we need the horses.” Claire finished the story.

“How’d you learn?” Bree asked.

“Well, you know my stories with Uncle Lamb and how we traveled to archaeological sites when I was younger. I had to learn pretty quickly how to ride. And then, when I met your Da, he was a soldier and a stable boy, taking care of the horses, so I got to spend a lot of time watching him train the young kids in the castle” Claire explained.

“Do ye know how to ride, Brianna?” Jamie asked as they fixed the table.

“Uhm, no.”

“I can teach ye! If ye want, of course.” Jamie stammered, hoping he did not push his limits.

“Yes! I would love to.” Bree exclaimed excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to try but never got the chance.”

“Why not? I thought Boston had good facilities for horseback riding?” Jamie asked. Bree and Claire exchanged glances but came out with it.

“Frank and I were either too busy with the university or the hospital so we never really got to take Bree out to spontaneous weekend trips.” Claire began to explain.

“Our trips are planned months in advance so everyone is free. We mostly went to historical sites or the beach for maximum relaxation but adventures like these didn’t happen often.” Bree followed.

Jamie looked unsure how to proceed based on their stories as it seemed half fun. Claire and Bree picked up on it and decided to continue on baby steps when it comes to telling Jamie details of their life the past 20 years.

“Maybe you can start teaching Bree how to ride later after lunch and we show her around the house” Claire pitched.

“Sounds like a plan!” Brianna agreed with a clap.

They proceeded on eating their pork chops while continuing with exchanging stories about Lallybroch. After lunch, they showed Bree to her room while they all freshened up and took a short nap.

Around 4:00 in the afternoon, they all went back to stables where Jamie introduced Bree to one of the mares, Jilly, gave a little lecture and then let her mount up. Claire was content watching on the side with a basket full of snacks for the afternoon.

“Alright, now, just try and be comfortable on the horse. Sit straight and relax. You know when they say that horses smell fear, it’s true” Jamie said to Bree. “Okay, I’m going to take you on a short walk around.” Brianna nodded and gently held on the reins.

Jamie took the horse for a walk around an open lawn and Brianna pretty quickly caught up with the rhythm. After 5 trots, Jamie put the horse on a gallop as a challenge and his daughter ran with it excellently.

“This is fun!” Bree called out to Claire.

“Wait till you dismount it then let me know again.” Claire joked. “But you’re doing great, sweetheart!”

After two hours on and off the horse, night was falling in and they decided to call it a day.

“I’ll go ahead and start dinner, hope you like carbonara. You two, take care of things around here.” Claire declared.

“I’ll walk her to the stables.” Brianna insisted and took the reins from her Da and walked Jilly back to the stables.

“I’ll follow you in a minute, Bree” Jamie said as Claire went towards him for a snuggle as they watched their daughter walk ahead.

“She’s a natural, Jamie” Claire whispered. “Just like her father”

“Don’t make me cry, Claire. But yes, she is” Jamie pulled Claire tighter and gave her a light kiss in the hair. “I always imagined how teaching and taking our children out on a horse would look like. Now, I don’t have to.”

“Aww, darling. It truly has been the best days and I know there is more to come.” Claire lifted her head and gave Jamie a quick kiss. “Now, go and teach our daughter how to rub down a horse and I’ll get dinner started.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #to begin again #to begin again AU #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #brianna fraser #jamie x claire x bree #mia writes again after a long time #canon divergent AU

74 notes · View notes

screamingatanemptyroom · 4 years

Text

Snow White’s Revenge pt 2

Hey everyone! Here’s a pt 2 to the short I wrote last time. I had a sudden urge to continue it for a couple of parts or so.

Part 1 linked here.

Enjoy!

____________________________

“I can’t believe that worthless brat is still alive!”

The Queen’s angry shout was accompanied by the loud crash of her wine glass against the wall. The shattered pieces flew through the air, landing on her skirt and shoes, but the woman ignored them, her gaze focused instead on the blood spattered girl being escorted through the palace gates. The entry guard had already passed on her story, the words causing the Queen to wish there were more things to smash in the room.

“A wild animal?! Killing the huntsman but not that brat?!” She shook her head. “How is it possible?”

“Is that a question for me?” The golden eyes in the enchanted mirror showed enjoyment as the item watched the Queen’s fury. “I’m more than happy to exchange the answer for a few years of your life energy.”

“Shut up, you useless piece of junk!”

“Not my fault you start the day off by wasting your daily question.” The mirror laughed. “Be careful not to frown too much, or even your magic won’t be able to hide the lines in your face. You might be dropping to third fairest soon! What are you going to do then? Kill every attractive female in the kingdom?”

“If I have to.” She muttered in response, but quickly calmed her facial expression. “No matter what, Snow White must die.”

“Then why not kill her? Why do you make things so needlessly complicated?” The golden eyes rolled with disdain. “Foolish human.”

He queen sighed. “She’s the daughter of the late king and queen. My claim to the throne is temporary, and fragile at best. If it were known that I was behind her death, the citizens… even the other kingdoms wouldn’t stand by. It would be seen as disregarding the natural order of royal blood. But if it’s an accident…”

Her slim, well-manicured finger tapped against her jaw. “Now that she’s back, I’ll have to be careful. Prince Alexander will be arriving tonight. He will likely wish to discuss an engagement with that girl.”

“And you care? If he takes her away you can be fairest in the land, right?”

“Fool. She’ll have a powerful backer to support her should she wish to take the throne. Rather than compete with his brothers, the prince may fancy taking over an easier fight here.” Her hands clenched into tight fists.

“Whatever it takes, I have to make sure that this marriage does not happen.”

____________________________

“I have to make sure this marriage doesn’t happen, Phil.” Prince Alex forced a smile for the crowds as they rode into the Royal Capital, towards the palace.

“Again, I think you’re an idiot for turning down a beautiful sweet girl, but sure, so you’re just going to tell her that you won’t marry her?” Phil sighed, keeping a diplomatic expression on as he rode behind the prince.

Alex shook his head slowly. “Our parents had pretty much guaranteed the marriage before the late king passed. If I just refuse it now, her mother could make a huge political scandal out of it. That could hurt my chances for the throne back home.”

“You really need to think this through, Alex. First of all, I don’t know if her stepmother cares…”

“Snow White has to be the one to reject the marriage.”

“… I’m taking back all my concern for you. You’re an idiot.”

Alex grinned. “No, I’ve got it all planned out! I’m going to act like a violent thoughtless brute…”

“So you’re going to act like yourself?”

“And once she sees how different I am from the prince in her dreams, she’ll cancel the engagement and I can negotiate a non-marriage related treaty in exchange! It’s fool-proof.”

Phil stared at the prince with pity in his eyes. “I think you meant ‘foolish’.”

“You just wait. After I’m done, there’s no way Snow White will continue to hold onto the dream of marrying me!”

____________________________

“There’s no way I’m going to marry the prince.” Snow sighed as she tossed her knife at the practice dummy in the corner of the room. “Maybe it would be easier to just kill him?”

“Your highness!” Gertrude, the middle-aged nursemaid who had always been by the princess’s side since she was an infant, stared in horror at the stuffed figure that now had a blade sticking through its crotch. “I thought you couldn’t wait to marry Prince Alexander!”

That was the innocent dream of a dead girl. Snow thought but didn’t say out loud. “Things have changed, Nanny. I have too much to worry about now to pay attention to love and marriage.” She hesitated. “Unless… is the prince really strong?”

“Strong?”

“You know, can he fight? Cut off his enemies heads and torch their homes, stomp their corpses into the mud?”

Gertrude gasped in shock. “Prince Alexander is a gentleman! He would do no such thing!”

“Then he’s useless. Someone else can marry him.” Losing interest, Snow picked up another knife, taking aim.

“But he’s such a handsome young man!”

“Handsome?” The princess snorted with disdain. “Being handsome only attracts attention, and isn’t helpful in a fight.” The knife flew from her hand striking the center of the dummy’s chest. She stared at it with satisfaction, and then nodded.

“Yep, I’ll just have to tell him to look elsewhere for a bride. Someone weak and delicate, who suits a man like him.”

The nanny sighed. “Very well, Miss. I can’t claim to understand your thoughts, but as long as you’re happy…”

“Don’t worry.” Snow stepped forward, grabbing the knife still embedded in the stuffed target’s groin and pulling it upwards, slicing the whole dummy into two pieces. She tested the still sharp tip and smiled brightly, the delicate beautiful smile lighting up the entire room. “I’ll make my own happy ending.”

____________________________

“A toast to our princess, and her safe return!” A portly duke raised his glass, and with everyone else slowly got to their feet and followed suit.

Snow sighed with mild annoyance, sipping at the wine with a disgusted frown. Alcohol had been a much-coveted luxury in her old world, with many people willing to trade weapons and food for a chance to cloud their despair in a drunken stupor. She had fairly good tolerance back then, but saw it as more a necessary evil for business transactions rather than something to enjoy. Drunkenness meant letting your guard down, a chance for someone to kill you.

Not that it mattered in the end. Snow thought bitterly. I was completely sober when I was betrayed and killed.

She stared down at the wine in her hand, disliking the weak, sweet taste. At least the food was rich, well flavored, much better than the scraps she had grown up on.

Seems like the prince is enjoying the food too. She glanced over the handsome young man sitting across from her, who was carelessly shoveling food into his mouth without a concern for manners or etiquette. Food was smeared around his lips, falling to the table around his plate, causing others to stare in dismay, but he ignored them, focusing on eating his fill.

Snow nodded in approval. That’s how a leader should eat. None of this delicate small bites nonsense. Eat the food quickly, in case the enemy attacks while you’re weak. Maybe this prince isn’t as bad as I thought.

Curiously enough, seeing her positive glance at his behavior, the prince seemed frustrated and panicked, his behavior becoming even more loud and boisterous.

“I haven’t eaten food this good since the Battle of Brent!” He yelled out desperately, swinging his wine glass and spilling the liquid inside. “I was decapitating enemies left and right, crushing their corpses, ignoring their cries for mercy!”

Many of the noblewomen turned pale at his violent words, covering their mouths with handkerchiefs. A few even stood up to leave, too overwhelmed as he went into detail as to how he killed and dismembered his foes. Even the Queen seemed overwhelmed by the Prince’s brutish behavior, keeping her eyes on her own plate. Only two people in the room seemed unfazed by his words, his friend Phillip, the son of the Duke of Willowford, who just rolled his eyes, and Snow herself, who found herself increasingly interested in the man in front of her.

Maybe the previous soul had good taste after all… She studied him closely, unsure as to why he seemed so frustrated. He seems like a violent, merciless warrior, without concern for this kingdom’s silly rules for politeness. He doesn’t look all that strong though… I’d have to fight him to see if he is worthy to be an ally.

But as for marriage… Snow was still against it. She had seen too many fighters lose their lives at the hands of their so-called loved ones, and so had avoided relationships previously. Besides, the betrayal of her second in command in her previous life was still too fresh to consider trusting someone again very soon.

He’s probably looking for a delicate, submissive wife, so it shouldn’t be too hard to persuade him to look elsewhere. Just as Snow thought this, she realized that an opportunity had presented itself in the form of a dessert.

She took a small bite of the cake in front of her, a familiar tingling on her tongue alerting her to the poison inside. She tapped her leg under the table, hiding the green flash of her magic as she checked her body’s condition. It targeted the gastrointestinal system causing large volume vomiting and diarrhea within minutes of ingestion.

I assume the Queen wants to humiliate me, by forcing me into such a state before I can escape to the privacy of my rooms? She took another bite, tapping her knee again, her magic nullifying the poisons effects. Still, it seems like too good of a chance to pass up. Getting back at the Queen and disgusting my potential fiancé at the same time… With a smile, she took one more bite, this time only partially nullifying the effects of the poison.

Her face turning a bright white, she staggered to her feet, not missing the Queen’s satisfied smirk. For an odd reason the Prince seemed excited too, standing up as well.

“My rough manners and words must have offended you Princess, I understand if you need to excuse yourself…”

BLEGH.

Snow staggered over to the head of the table, vomiting all over the Queen.

“…” The room went silent as they stared in shock at the scene before them. The Queen’s eyes were wide, her hands shaking as she glared at Snow, who smiled sweetly back.

“Mother, I don’t feel well. May I be excused?”

“…Go ahead.” She answered through gritted teeth.

“Thanks, Mother!” Grinning as if the woman who just projectile vomited at a formal dinner party was not her, Snow skipped out of the room, heading back to the courtyard outside her rooms.

____________________________

“… The party is over.” The Queen finally spoke up again, stepping up and rushing from the room, dripping vile smelling fluid.

Prince Alex sighed sadly, covering his head in his hands. “That didn’t go well.”

Phil looked over. “Really? It looked like you were having fun?”

“Well, yeah, I don’t normally get to eat and talk however I want and formal functions, it was kind of a relief to get to act like I do out in the battlefield rather than play the part of the charming prince.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Snow White wasn’t offended!” Alex groaned. “Did you see her smiling at me throughout the dinner?”

“Maybe she’s not as delicate and weak as you thought?”

“No. She must be so captivated by my looks that she doesn’t care how brutish I act.”

Phil rolled his eyes, looking physically pained. “Do you even hear yourself?”

“I’ll have to strike more directly, be insulting.” Alex stared sadly at the leftover food for a few moments, before standing up.

“The poor girl just vomited in front of the entire royal court, don’t you think you should give her a break?”

“This is for her own good that she’s not engaged to me…”

“And your selfishness that you want her to be the one to break it off…”

Alex sighed. “You’re not wrong. But I’m going to try.” With that he walked away in the direction Snow White had fled earlier.

“Idiot.” Phil muttered, following slowly behind.

____________________________

The prince came upon Snow White as she was rinsing her face and mouth in a bucket of icy water in the courtyard outside her rooms. Without giving much thought as to why the delicate princess was using stale cold water outside rather than taking a warm bath, he stepped forward, keeping his voice harsh and overbearing.

“Hey you!”

Snow White turned towards the prince with a neutral expression. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah! I have something to say.”

The princess straightened up, stepping closer while drying her face with a rough cloth, obviously willing to listen. Alex took a deep breath, mentally steeling himself.

“I think you’re scrawny looking!”

Snow White nodded pleasantly.

“And you’re ugly!”

Despite his horrible words, Snow White continued to stare at him, unconcerned, as if his words were simple facts rather than terrible insults. Feeling desperate and guilty, he tried once more.

“No man in his right mind would marry you!”

The princess shrugged, her flawless features still tranquil. “Is that all?”

“…” Defeated, Prince Alex’s shoulders slumped, and he whispered “No. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m lying, I’ve tried to do something terrible, when all you’ve done is be pleasant and polite. I’m so sorry!”

“… okay?”

“The truth…” He sighed. “The truth is that I can’t marry you, but I wanted you to be the one to break off the engagement, so I insulted you and tried to scare you off.”

“…” If anything, Snow White looked more confused.

“I do think you’re a lovely girl, but the royal court back home is a battleground right now, and I can’t bring someone as weak as you into danger. I wouldn’t be able to protect…”

RIP!

The tearing sound of the towel in Snow White’s hands interrupted the prince’s gentle explanation. She stepped closer, the torn cloth clenched in her fists, her face taking on a furious expression.

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!”

“Umm…” Confused, Alex backed away a few steps, only to have the princess close the distance once more, now whispering.

“Did you call me ‘weak’?”

“…Yes?”

The torn pieces of towel flew into his eyes, blocking his vision. Alex tried to swipe them away, but before he could recover…

BAM!

Snow White’s right fist struck his face, knocking him backwards.

____________________________

Snow was mad.

Everything had been going so well. She had vomited all over the Queen, and while she was cleaning up, the prince had approached her of his own volition and seemed to be expressing an unwillingness to marry her.

He called her a few names, such as “scrawny” and “ugly.” Snow found herself nodding in agreement. This body had very little muscle mass, she missed the thicker arms and legs she had worked so hard for in her previous life. As for ugly… well, Nanny had told her she was beautiful, and Snow had no complaints about the features in the mirror, but who knows what counted as attractive in this world? Perhaps this kind of face wasn’t popular? Either way, it seemed that the prince wasn’t interested in getting married, which solved another one of her problems.

Snow was very satisfied.

At least she was right up until the man called her weak.

WEAK?!

Snow remembered the feeling of her friend’s knife in her back, their whispered words in her ear still echoing in her heart.

“You’re too weak to lead anymore, Snow.”

Seeing red, Snow had already started to fight before she could think things through.

BAM!

After distracting his sight with a torn piece of cloth, she punched him in the face.

Ow! This body is too weak! Feeling regretful, Snow tapped her arms a few times, infusing healing magic to the max , hoping to augment her strength and speed a bit. To her relief, she felt her muscles respond, giving her more to work with in the fight.

The prince had staggered back at her initial blow, more surprised than hurt. “Ow! Why would you…?”

He was interrupted as she kicked him in the chest, knocking him back further.

“We’re fighting.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed as he watched her draw closer. “If you keep at this, I’ll fight back you know.”

She swung at his head, smiling as he dodged the blow only to get her knee to his face. “Good.”

“I- I won’t go easy on you!” Alex clutched his broken nose, glaring.

“Who said I needed you to?”

And with that the two began to fight in earnest.

The prince was good, Snow had to admit. He had quick reflexes; his reactions were obviously honed on the battlefield. Even though he was injured right from the start he compensated quickly and launched a powerful attack towards her face, taking advantage of his bigger size and reach.

But she was faster.

Dodging within his range, Snow rammed a fist into his gut, causing him to bend over at the waist. Taking advantage of the lowered height, she kicked his head, causing his whole body to tumble backwards. Surprisingly, despite the heavy injury, he staggered to his feet, a bloodthirsty smile on his face.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to fight with everything I’ve got!” He lunged forward, seeming to stumble as he moved. Snow thought to take advantage of the slip, aiming a punch towards his chest, but he bent out of the way, showing the initial clumsiness to be nothing but a feint. Grabbing her wrist, he tried to force her around; to put her into an arm lock, but Snow simply went against the motion, allowing the bone to break.

CRACK!

The sickening sound caused them both to slightly flinch, but before Alex could recover she had already struck again, her foot smashing into his cheek, knocking him onto his back. Then, not allowing him time to stand, she stepped on his stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs in a painful gasp.

“Let’s get one thing straight, prince:” She smiled, not noticing that the beauty of the expression caused even the heavily injured prince to be dazed for a moment. “We are not getting married, true… but it’s not because I’m too weak. “ She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with enjoyment. “It’s because you’re not strong enough to stand beside me.”

With that she struck him once more, knocking him unconscious.

“I’m out of practice.” Sighing with dismay, Snow reached over and healed her broken wrist, wincing as the bones reset themselves. She then stared down at the prince, wondering what to do next. A strong blow like she had given him could have definitely caused bleeding within his brain. If she left him alone he could definitely die.

“He did give me a good fight… and he’s not terrible at combat…” Muttering to herself, she leaned forward and held a hand to his forehead, allowing her almost drained power to flow into the prince’s body.

“What are you doing?” Another young man, Snow recognized him as Phillip, the prince’s friend, had walked up, staring at the unconscious prince with a mildly concerned expression.

“Healing him.” Snow answered honestly, most of her focus on the injured man in front of her.

“Why? Aren’t you the one who injured him?”

“…Aren’t you his friend?”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure he deserved the beating he got. “ Phillip watched her for a few moments. “Are you a witch?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking. I’m not bathing in the blood of virgins or summoning demons or anything. I just happen to have abilities that are useful for times like this.”

As she spoke, the prince’s injured face slowly returned to its normal state, the swelling and broken nose fading as if they never had been there in the first place.

“Again, I feel like I should ask why. Your stepmother could use your abilities as an excuse for you to be burned at the stake if she learned of your powers.”

Snow smiled at the young man. “Who would believe that the delicate and mild mannered ‘Snow White’ beat the snot out of a man and then healed him?” She gestured at the now normal appearing prince. “He looks completely fine to me.”

“Good point.” Phillip smiled, and bowed gracefully. “Then I will thank you, Your Highness, for showing mercy in not killing my foolish friend.”

“Smart man.” Nodding, Snow stood up, brushing her hands off on her pants. “He’s all yours.”

With that, she turned around and entered her rooms, smiling.

____________________________

“PLEASE TEACH ME HOW TO FIGHT!” Snow was greeted the next morning by the sight of the handsome prince kneeling, his hands clasped in front of him as he begged with a serious expression.

It’s too early for this nonsense.

Sighing, Snow looked over the young man with a critical eye. “Why?”

“I’m very sorry that I insulted you earlier!” Alex stared at her respectfully. “But now I know you’re really strong and I look up to you! I have so much that I can learn from you to increase my own strength!”

“No, I know why YOU want me to teach you.” She shrugged. “That’s obvious. What I want to know is why should I? There’s nothing in it for me.”

Alex considered her words for a few moments. “I’ll marry you?”

“Rejected. You’re too weak.”

“I’ll pay you?”

“I’m a princess, set to inherit the crown. I’m in a better financial position then you, who is still fighting for your own claim to the throne.”

“…I’ll be your servant?”

Snow rubbed her forehead, frowning. “I don’t have a use for you. If anything, that young man would be more helpful, since at least he’s smart.” She pointed at Phil, who was watching their interactions with an amused expression.

“Traitor!” Alex frowned at his friend, who backed away.

“You two violent creatures leave my poor innocent self out of your discussions. I’m just here to try to reign in the area of destruction a bit.”

“…” The prince lowered his head and thought. “Is there anything you want that I can give you?”

Smiling, Snow nodded. “As a matter a fact there is.”

“Really? Because I’m willing to give anything…”

“I want your sword.”

“NO!” Alex clutched the well-worn blade hilt with a crestfallen expression.

“I thought you said anything?”

“You might as well ask for my first born child!”

“Again, not interested. They’d probably just be weak like you.”

Phil sighed loudly, stepping between them. “What do you like about the sword, Princess?”

“It’s well balanced, has been kept oiled and sharpened, and seems to have an appropriate length and weight that I could use.”

“If we can get you a similar sword, or perhaps one even better, would you listen to this stupid prince’s request?”

“Hey!”

Snow ignored Alex’s shout and thought it over. “Sure.” She smiled slowly. “But I won’t go easy on you, weak prince.”

The young man stood up, shaking her hand with a grin of his own. “I’m counting on it, Snow White.”

____________________________

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest of them all?” The Queen, having just finished her morning routine and makeup, stared into the magic mirror with a desperate expression.

Her reflection was replaced with a gleeful pair of golden eyes.

“Again, the same question. For an evil witch you’re quite boring you know.”

“ANSWER IT!”

“Still Snow White, your beautiful and talented step daughter, who has quite good aim when it comes to vomiting I hear.”

CRASH!

A crystal case of powder broke into pieces on the floor.

“When are they going to learn to not put anything breakable in your room?”

“I’ll make her suffer for that stunt she pulled last night.” Ignoring the mirror now that she had asked her daily compulsive question, the Queen pulled a hidden lever on her wall. With a screech of rusty gears the wall near the switch separated, rotated itself and an attached dresser around, revealing a hidden room behind it. She entered it, and without hesitation, grabbed a knife and slashed her own hand, dripping blood into the cauldron at the center of the room.

“I may not be able to kill her directly, but let’s see how she deals with the dark fiends of the underworld when they come to torture her in the dead of night.” She poured a few more ingredients from various jars and tubes, smiling wickedly as a green smoke began filling the air. “Just a simple contract, a few years of life force, but worth it if her torment will be enough to push her into complete despair.”

“You know what I love about you? Your boundless optimism.”

The Queen ignored the mirror’s words. “You won’t escape me this time, Snow White. You’ve been lucky this far, but in the end, everything will be mine!”

Her laughter slowly filled the room, echoing off the walls, as if the whole castle was laughing with her.

#writing #fantasy #fairy tale retelling #dark #violence #fighting #magic

248 notes · View notes

devnicolee · 4 years

Text

Overworked

Quarantine Writing Challenge

A/N: This is my submission for @chaneajoyyy and @shaekingshitup’s writing challenege. This is my first time participating in one of thesse so very excited! Enjoy! Edited to now include the photo - it has been a long week indeed :)

Warnings: Some slight angst

Word Count: 2.4K

Pairing: Black reader x M’Baku

Your head fell forward as you dozed off behind your desk. While this was certainly out of character for you, exhaustion was the unfortunate side effect of working into the early morning hours night after night. You knew you were pushing your body to its limit as you tired to operate on less than 4 hours of sleep each day for the last week.

Between drafting a new proposal for a partnership initiative for T’Challa, planning tonight’s party and tackling the mountain of tribal work pilling up on your desk, your plate was overwhelmingly full. You were not shocked to find the role of chieftess difficult and demanding, you expected it. But after an entire life spent perfectly organized and on top of everything, you had never felt like this before. There were simply not enough hours in the day to field all the requests for new programs and technology from the lowlanders and requests from tribal members, keep up with your engineering projects, plan your calendar of events, and be a dutiful wife. You weren’t sure which project caused this, which one was officially too much. But you quickly went from expertly juggling all your responsibilities with grace to fumbling and wildly racing between them like a mad woman.

"Y/N… Y/N!!"

You almost jumped clean out of your own skin as someone’s shouts penetrated your cluttered thoughts. You jumped out of your seat, eyes wide and alert, to find no one other than your husband leaning against the office door frame with an amused smile on his face.

"Oh, my love. I didn’t hear you knock. I am sorry," you laughed, your hand clutching your heart as you tried to calm down from the sudden scare. You closed your eyes for a second, a small bout of dizziness overcoming you from the abrupt movement.��

"I can tell… it’s alright. It is a Saturday, what on Earth are you doing here? I hope you are not stressing yourself out over this party?" he warned as he walked into the office. You stood up to get a glass of water from a table in the office, allowing him to steal your seat behind the desk. You both knew it wouldn’t bother you much, your preferred seat was his lap anyway. Your mind was so clearly preoccupied as M’Baku eyed you suspiciously, so preoccupied that you didn’t even notice the slight tremble in the glass in your hand. But he certainly did. The moment you were in arms length again, he quickly grabbed your curvy hips to pull you into his lap.

M'Baku was no secret to exhaustion, the long tiring days that came with leadership. He certainly appreciated his chieftess’s willingness to take the majority of work with the lowlanders off his plate, allowing him to focus on tribal matters. And it seemed to be working out masterfully until the last week or two. He realized as he looked at you, properly for the first time in days, that the little things he had noticed recently were now significant things… concerning things. Exhaustion was a prominent fixture on your face, marked with stress and dark bags makeup couldn’t fully hide. "I told you it is a busy time, we do not need a celebration on top of everything else."

"Nonsense. It is your 5th anniversary as chief, M’Baku. We can’t not celebrate your dedication to our people. A celebration you deserve, by the way," you quickly waved his concerns off as you held his face in your hands. Your fingers played with the coarse hair of his beard as you looked at him. "You just hate attention… don’t make this about me."

"This is about you. There is no time for a party right now, you. Between all these random requests from the King, preparing for winter... you do not have time. You know you can say no, right?"

"All of those are part of my duties as chieftess M’Baku." Your body leaned away from him a bit, growing agitated at his sudden interrogation.

"No, don’t try to remind me of your duties like I do not know them. You do me no service when you overload your plate to ease mine. I spoke to your assistant yesterday after you missed dinner for the third night in a row. You have taken on far too much. You cannot personally oversee every project in the lab, every program with the Golden City, and keep up with the everyday tasks of chieftess. You can’t do it all little one and no one is asking you to."

"I am not trying to do everything. I am just trying to be a good chieftess. I don’t want to embarrass you," your voice trailed off at the end as you ran your hands gingerly through the soft fur on his collar. You found a stray, loose string, which you tugged at slightly. You ignored how your vision went in and out, black spots obscuring the small brown strand. "Remind me to re-sew this tomorrow... I don’t want it to tear off."

M’Baku shook his head, frustrated at your deflection. He didn’t understand how you couldn’t see the toll all this was taking on you. His heart ached, as it always did, when you expressed doubt in your abilities as chieftess. He hated the way your eyes avoided his and your gaze fell down to your own lap in embarrassment. His rough hands gripped your grin lightly, lifting your head back to his eye level. His thumb grazed your cheek as he forced you to look at him.

"You could never embarrass me Y/N. You can worry me and you are. Not sleeping or eating... you are distracted, stressed. You just aren’t yourself. You are stretching yourself too thin."

"No, I am not." you responded defiantly. "I know when I am overwhelmed. This is nothing. I wish you would stop worrying. Besides, your party is tonight. It is too late to cancel it."

An intense staring match ensued, neither side willing to back down just yet. M'Baku rolled his eyes before nodding, conceding because even he had to admit this was a losing battle. And you had a point, it was indeed too late to cancel.

You kissed him on the nose, a silent thank you before he got up to let you finish your day of work before the party.

****

You sat quietly at your vanity, applying the finishing touch to your makeup as quickly as you could. You cursed yourself for losing track of time earlier, leaving you with only mere minutes to throw on your custom dress and run downstairs to oversee final details. The moment you stood up, you were forced back into your seat as a wave of dizziness settled over you. You leaned your head into your hand, trying to avoid disturbing your hard work, praying that it would pass before M'Baku came out of the bathroom.

You silently demanded your body pull it together, you just needed to get through a few more hours. A few more hours, you chanted under your breath as you forced yourself back onto your feet. It was only marginally more successful than the first time but you were determined to press forward. Your heart couldn’t take messing up this night for M’Baku.

"Are you alright, Ikumkani?" M'Baku said suspiciously as he followed behind you into the bathroom to grab his clothes for the party.

"Of course, my king," you answered softly, forcing your voice to maintain its usual timber. But even you knew it was a tall order to get him to ignore the noticeable shake in your words. You slid your white robe off your shoulders, allowing it to fall in a heap at your feet, and stepped into your dress. Pulling the detailed bodice up your frame felt like an Olympic task. Your body was beginning to protest, loudly and defiantly telling you a few more hours would simply not do.

Your arm held the strapless gown up against your chest as you looked behind you at your husband, "Can you zip me up, my love?" you asked.

"I would rather tear it off of you. This dress is a vision, as you will be in it." M'Baku showered you with praise as his hands took time to room your body before finding the delicate zipper at the back of the dress. You only partially heard him, offering minimal “hmms” as thanks, too afraid to talk as nausea churned in your stomach.

"I am done, little one," M'Baku said. You felt his presence move from behind you, his voice seemed so far away as if you were talking through a tunnel. You didn’t move though. You leaned into the wooden case holding your jewelry as if your life depended on it, suspecting that your legs could no longer hold your weight.

You took a deep breath, deciding to make a break for it, "What di-" you started to say before everything went black.

****

When you woke up, you were on the floor in M'Baku's arms. You couldn’t comprehend his words, they were flying by rapidly and unable to penetrate the cloud in your brain. But his panic was evident and reached your ears clearly.

"Y/N!"

You looked around wildly, your brain sluggish and slow as it tried to catch up with the reality around you. Instinctively, you tried to sit up but the grip M’Baku had on your arms kept you flush against his chest.

"It’s ok. You fainted, you just need to relax. It is ok, I got you, my love."

You nodded softly and allowed your head to lull back at his sweet whispers. Confusion was the paramount feeling at the moment, that and exhaustion. But you had M’Baku, you were in his arms, you were safe and that meant there was little to worry about. You both laid there for a few moments before you felt well enough to squeeze his hand, signaling that you were ready to move. He clearly didn’t trust your judgement so he swooped you up bridal style and carried you into the bathroom. He sat you gently on the edge of the tub. His eyes intently scanned your body, still in your designer gown, his hands rubbing up and down your body, to look for injuries. His face scrunched up in worry, concerned that he had not caught you soon enough.

"I-I am fine, M'Baku. No pain, just exhausted," you whispered back to him, trying to settle the clear anxiety coursing through him. You could tell by the way his eyes darted across your frame frantically and his rapid movements that you scared him, truly scared him. And now, you felt the burden of that, wanted to do anything within your current physical limitations to make him feel at ease again.

"How long?" M'Baku asked, his hands finally settled on your thighs. His question required no other context or words, you knew he wanted to know how long you had been feeling like this, how long you had been ignoring it and you knew he would not be pleased with the answer. But lying was not an option, it never was with the two of you.

"The last few days," you answered truthfully, avoiding his eyes. "You were right, I am overwhelmed... I thought I could c-catch up but it was too much and it kept growing and g-growing. I j-just didn't want to admit I failed you."

M'Baku scoffed, "You can't fail me, you. I will tell you this every day until you believe it. B-but you can't do this ever again. Y/N, I am serious. You can never scare me like that again. The way you looked... I th-... please, you can't just take care of me or the tribe. You have to make yourself a priority too. Promise me."

You leaned forward, which took great energy on your part, and kissed him on the lips. It was soft, gentle, conveyed more in an apology than your words would. "I promise. I’m sorry."

That seemed to suffice, he offered you a smile that pushed some of the guilt out of your heart. He stood up and held you for a moment, unzipping your dress so it fell off you. "You are going to take a bath, and then go to bed." He turned on the hot water in their tub, filling it with water and your favorite vanilla bubble bath.

"B-but the par-"

The look on his face immediately silenced you. "The party is no longer your concern. We are not going.”

“It is your party, we have to go,” you insisted, guilt rushing through you at ruining his night. “What if I just go for a litt-”

“Y/N,” he growled, his tone highlighting his frustration at his stubborn wife. “You should be glad I am not calling every healer in this tribe. You will stay here and you will rest. That is final.”

His face softened slightly at the small nod you gave, you understood you couldn’t fight him on this one. But he also understood how guilty you felt for crashing on his special day, how badly you wanted tonight to be perfect for him.

“Fine, I will go and show my face for an hour once you are in bed. It will be amazing and everyone will love it. But you will stay here, all I want for my celebration is for you to finally rest, Y/N."

You nodded, and slid down into the bath, the warm water felt heavenly against your tired body. M’Baku watched you closely, clearly concerned that you may faint in the tub. You looked, to him, as weary and tired as he imagined you felt. That made him feel secure in his decision to make this call. The duties and pressures of the tribe could wait, you needed to just be you for a while. He only left your once, for a few moments as it was nearing time for him to go downstairs, to get dressed. He came back in his slacks and dress shirt with a cup of your favorite chamomile tea in hand.

He helped you out of the bath slowly. If you weren’t already, his gentleness and care would have usually made you weak in the knees. He left you to finish getting dressed but after putting on your panties, you decided you had little energy for other clothes. You slid your robe on and tied a towel around your wet twists, and slid on your reading glasses.

You lazily walked out of the bathroom, sipping your perfectly-made tea, to find M’Baku putting on his suit jacket.

"You look perfect. Happy anniversary, M'Baku."

He pulled you in close for a deep, passionate kiss before he steered you toward the California-King size bed and helped you in. "Thank you. Get some rest, usana. I will be back in an hour."

He watched you for a minute or two, as you sunk into the bed and your eyes drifted shut. "I love you," he whispered, but all he heard in return were the soft, gentle snores of the very-exhausted love of his life.

He chuckled lightly, kissing you on the forehead this time and removing your glasses before heading toward the door. As he left, he decided an hour was really going to be 30 minutes. He had a wife to tend to.

****

@muse-of-mbaku @dawva @destinio1 @jellybean531 @afrolatinpami

#black writer #black panther #black panther fanfiction #black panther fics #m'baku x reader #m'baku imagines

123 notes · View notes

whatdidimissjm · 4 years

Text

Jamilton Month Day 29 - Wedding

It´s the night before their big day. The night before the wedding. Thomas is basically vibrating with a mix of anticipation and nervous energy. When he comes out of the bathroom, he finds Alex in the bedroom in front of the windows, his back turned to him, looking out at the city. The younger man doesn´t seem to notice Thomas´ presence though, and Thomas just stands there for a moment and watches him. He can´t help but smile, almost overwhelmed with how much love he feels for the other man. He is happier than he has ever been in his life. After a moment of just standing there, Thomas crosses the room and wraps his arms around his fiancé´s waist, softly kissing his shoulder.

He notices almost instantly that something is wrong. Silent tears are running down Alexander´s cheeks, and they aren´t happy tears. The light feeling from before vanishes and is replaced by worry. He turns the younger man around and takes his face in his hands, softly wiping his tears away.

“What´s wrong, love?”, Thomas asks quietly, and Alex looks down, avoiding his eyes, without saying anything.

Thomas feels helpless. When he had left Alex to take a shower, the other man seemed happy, almost giddy with anticipation for the wedding.

“Did something happen?”, Thomas tries again, and this time Alex shakes his head. “Is this about tomorrow?”, he asks finally, praying to a god he doesn´t believe in, that it isn´t, but after a moment of hesitation, Alex nods.

Thomas can feel his throat closing, and anxiety welling up inside him. It feels like a punch in the gut and he can barely breathe for a moment

“Okay, uhm, I´m sure we can somehow still cancel it, if that´s what you want.”, he says quietly, even though the words are almost causing him physical pain. He knows it will probably kill him, but Alex´ feelings always come before his.

Alex´s head snaps up almost instantly, a look of panic in his eyes.

“No!”, he shakes his head rapidly. “No, no! That´s not what this is about! Of course, I don´t want to cancel the wedding!”

Thomas can feel relief flooding through him, the tears that he has managed to hold back until now finally running down his cheeks.

“That´s great.”, he whispers, his voice shaky. “That´s really great.”

Alex gets on his tiptoes and kisses him softly.

“I love you.”, he mumbles against his lips, before kissing him again.

Then he reaches up to cup Thomas´ face and gently brushes the tears away.

“I love you, too. So, so much.”, Thomas whispers back, hugging Alex tightly to his chest. “Will you tell me what´s the matter, sweetheart?”

Alex sighs quietly, pressing himself further against Thomas and hiding his face in his fiancé’s chest. He takes a few deep breaths, relaxing a bit when he feels Thomas starting to play with his hair.

“Every time I think about tomorrow, I think about how your family will be there, and how mine won´t.”, Alex finally admits. His voice is so quiet that Thomas wouldn´t have heard him, hadn´t they been this close together. “I mean, I know that George will be there and Martha and all our friends, and they are all like a family, but I just wish… you know, I wish that I could share that with my family. With the people I grew up with.”

Alex takes in a shuddering breath that results in a chocked sob. Thomas just holds him tighter and lets him cry, his heart breaking for him.

“I´m sorry.”, Alex says after some time, letting out a little chuckle. “I guess I´m just really emotional right now.”

He leans back, giving Thomas an almost shy smile.

“Nothing to be sorry about, love.”, Thomas says softly. “Do you want to talk about it?

Alex shrugs.

“I just wish you could have met them.”

Thomas smiles at him sadly and nods.

“Me too, love.”, he answers honestly.

Thomas reaches up to brush the tears from Alexander´s cheeks, who closes his eyes at that, leaning into the touch. He can´t help but softly kiss his forehead, before pulling him against his chest again.

“Are you tired?”, Thomas asks quietly, after they have stayed like that for some time.

Alex shrugs.

“A bit, but I don´t know if I can sleep yet.”, he lets out a soft chuckle. “I´m pretty excited about tomorrow.”

Thomas can feel himself starting to smile and the unease he has felt before disappearing almost completely. He grabs Alexander´s hand with the engagement ring and lifts it up, pressing a kiss to his fingers.

“I am too. Can´t wait to call you my husband.”

He lets go of Alex´s waist, instead grabbing his other hand too and walks backwards towards the bed.

“There are other things we can do in bed than sleeping, though.”, Thomas says, and Alex gives him a grin.

His eyes are still red and puffy, but at least his smile is genuine.

“Oh, are there?”, he gives back, with a teasing undertone in his voice.

“Yes, I was thinking about cuddling and watching a movie.”

Alex rolls his eyes.

“You are so boring. Aren´t you only supposed to get boring after we are married?”

Thomas shakes his head chuckling, spinning Alex around and throwing him on the bed.

“So you think I´m boring, you little shit? What are your great evening plans then, sweetheart?”

Alex just smiles up at him, stretching seductively on the bed.

“I was thinking about cuddling and talking. A lot less boring.”

Thomas rolls his eyes, and can´t help but chuckle.

“Right. Give me a second to change my shirt and I´m all yours.”

Alex pouts at that, reaching his hand out towards Thomas, but he shakes his head.

“My shirt is full of tears and god knows what else, you have to wait for a moment.”

Alex lets out a groan and lets his hand fall down onto the bed again, watching Thomas while he quickly puts on another pyjama shirt. He throws the other one in the direction of the bathroom, before he joins Alex under the blanket, who curls up in his arms almost immediately. Thomas starts combing his fingers through his fiancé´s hair again, who lets out a content sigh at that.

“Are you okay?”, Thomas asks quietly after some time.

Alex nods, pressing a kiss to Thomas´ cheek.

“Yeah. Still sad that my family can´t be there, but we will celebrate with your family and our friends, so that´s okay.” He props himself up on his elbows, so that he can look at Thomas. “I really don´t care who will be there tomorrow, as long as I have you by my side.”

“Always.”, Thomas gives back.

Alex smiles and leans down to kiss him.

“I know.”

#jamilton month #jamilton #jamilton month 2020 #thomas jefferson #alexander hamilton #hamilton #hamilton fic #hamilton musical #my writing #mine #my fics

34 notes · View notes

sapereaude-habemut · 4 years

Text

It is confusing.

You were born only two years and four months after I was. I do not remember life without you. Our brother was born only fifteen months after that. I barely remember life without him either.

I had very little time to have “girl” toys. By the time I was four I was sharing a room in a tiny house with my two little brothers. The “girliest” toys I had were horse figurines--but before you two started getting superhero action figures and little green army men, you had animal toys too, so what’s the difference? Even when I got Barbies and dolls, they would play in the same world as your amy men, they would also fight and explore, because I always played with you two. Most of our time was spent outside though. Our house was so tiny, our backyard so big. We rode bikes, we dug in the mud, we built little houses out of sticks and rocks. We played our imaginary game, where we were knights on a quest, explorers of a new world, we fought with sticks, we got dirty, scraped our knees. My upbringing was far more stereotypically “boyish” than “girlish.” Except for, well, everything aside from that.

I watched you and our other brother pee on trees in the backyard, our parents would laugh as you freely, laughingly had contests to see whose pee stream could reach higher. It was “cute” it was “funny.” It was something men did. Meanwhile, for me, using the bathroom was secretive, it was hidden. It was something never talked about. Vagina was a word uttered only in whispers.

I grew up watching you and our brother run around without shirts on, in our backyard, in our house on snowdays when we came inside to hot chocolate so you would not stain your shirts. At the beach, the pool, family and neighborhood barbecues--freely, without a second thought. Everyone accepted it. Meanwhile, I had been taught that it was inappropriate for a girl to not wear her shirt around other people at such a young age that I do not have a memory of thinking it was okay. At such a young age I could not yet understand WHY it was not okay. For my entire living memory, I have just known my torso was something that had to be hidden, to be ashamed of.

Long before I had anything on my body that could make not wearing a shirt, or certain clothes “inappropriate,” I was chastised if I tried to leave the house in a shirt or pants too tight, a skirt or shorts too short, the neckline too low--anything really. My body, for my whole life, has always been something I just knew had to be hidden. While you and our brother ran around freely, peeing on trees, without shirts on, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I changed diapers. So many diapers. When our brother was born and I was only four, I was taught to change his diapers. I changed so many of our sisters’ diapers. You changed none. I was always the mother's helper, I was expected to be. I changed the diapers, I babysat for the first time at eleven years old, over you, our other brother, and both our sisters, one of whom was a new born. I was the eldest sister, I was a woman, I was mother’s helper. It was expected. I continued to babysit until I left for college, despite the fact that you and our brother were far older than I was when I first began watching all of you. I would cancel plans and miss out when I was seventeen in highschool to “babysit”--while you, fifteen years old, got to sit around, play video games, watch television, read. When our mother was sad, tired, overwhelmed, busy--I cooked dinner, I set the table, I cleaned up dinner and loaded the dishwasher. I bathed our sisters, and sang them to sleep. You and our brother were never asked to do anything. You were never expected to do anything. It was all woman’s work.

On the holidays, I was always sent to the kitchen to “help the other women”--to help our mother, grandmother, and aunts, cook, bring out dishes, set the tables, and clean up. As the men in the family at around the table, or on couches, laughing and talking, and you and our brother played, or when you got older, joined in on the laughing and talking. I served you. I cleaned up after you. Because I am a woman.

I grew up watching you and our brother be “gross”, get dirty, play rough. Sit however you wanted. But when I joined in, when I got dirty, when I shoved one of you too hard, when I sat, somehow, incorrectly, I was scolded and told it was not “lady-like.”

My whole high school career our relatives unceasingly asked me when I would bring a boyfriend home. Despite the fact that I was a three season varsity athlete, the captain of the track team my junior and senior years, despite the fact that I was top of my class, despite the fact that I took every AP exam I could, passed nearly all of them with perfect 5′s, was going to college on a scholarship with nearly a full semester of college credits. You and our other brother got commended for being smart, but if you acted up, it was brushed off with my grandpa, our uncles saying “ah well, you take after me--boys will be boys.” You were never asked about bringing a girl home. But if you brought it up, you got a pat on the shoulder and an “atta boy.”

My whole upbringing was being forced to grow up too quickly to help cook for everyone, help clean up after everyone, do everyone’s laundry, take care of all of you. While you got to play. My whole upbringing was being taught to hide my body, that it was somehow inappropriate, shameful. While you got to run about freely, your bodies unencumbered by shame.

When I was fifteen, a grown man told me I had “child-bearing hips.” Horrified, I told my mother, and she just said sadly, but shruggingly, “You get that from my side.” When I was sixteen, playing volleyball, a senior from another school said he would like to “pipe” me. I have been grabbed, jeered at, sexually assaulted. At a family barbecue the summer after my freshman year of college, an older male relative who had not seen me since I was a child said “damn she’s an Amazon” as I tried to toss around the football with you and our other brother. I was uncomfortable. I have always had to deal with being uncomfortable. You never felt as though you did not have ownership over your body, as though your own body endangered you. As though your flesh somehow made you more vulnerable, but also more shameful, weaker, but giving me these great burdens of “womanhood.”

And it was not even like, as our mother tries to argue, that maybe this is why you were so adverse to sports, why it was so burdensome to have expectations of athleticism on you. I was more athletic than both you and our brother, I played more sports than both of you, I was better at more sports than both of you, I enjoyed sports more than both of you. One of our sisters is also far more athletic than both of you.

It also was not, as our mother also tries to say, our father’s hyper-traditional ideals of masculinity and feminity that drove you to this, or made you hide it. Because I was not always feminine. I worked mucking stalls, doing manual labor all summer. I more often than not wore athletic clothes, rarely wore makeup. Both me and our sister went through long “tomboy” stages, where we wore clothes from the boy’s department. Where we cut our hair short. We were permitted to do that. Our brother, our athletic, funny, “ladies’ man” of a brother, loves fashion. He loves to style outfits, to wear brightly colored or pastel floral button down shirts, pair them with patterned ties, he loves well fitted pants, fancy shoes, likes to make sure his socks go with his outfit, but also “pop” so when he sits and his pants reveal them, they are stylish too. He likes to wear his hair longer so he can style it. He was permitted to do that. He wears pink ties, he wears cologne, he cares about his skin. Our father and grandfather may joke, but in a good-natured way saying “well he’s never had trouble with the ladies, so maybe *we’re* doing something wrong.” It was not that.

So what was it? When you tell me you could not imagine not transitioning, not being a woman? What do you mean? What is this woman you speak of?

The first time I saw you after you announced you were transitioning, you were wearing a black choker, and off the shoulder top revealing a pink strappy sports bra, your nails were painted black. Is that what you think it means to “feel” more like a woman? Painted nails, trashy jewelry, and cutesy flashes of undergarments? Is it breasts? What is it?

This is not the womanness I was burdened with.

You received every single privilege of being a male in a very traditional, Catholic, Italian family. You never tried to take on any of the burdens I was forced to bear because it was my “role as a woman.” You took advantage of all of it. Your entire life.

#radfem #gender critical #gendercrit #feminism

48 notes · View notes

talatomaz · 4 years

Text

a shattered mind | lena luthor x arias!sister

a/n: i’ve been down a lot recently and i know it’s because of my anxiety but it’s still a struggle sometimes (based on my personal experiences, except I just deal with it by myself)

warnings: anxiety

word count: 1.7k

masterlist | request list | request rules

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

Nobody realised how broken you were. They just didn’t. Every morning, from the moment you opened your eyes, all you would do is wait for the next time you could close them. You felt empty. It was as if everything you were, everything you had inside of you was just gone.

Nothing survived the war inside your head.

It had been like this consistently for the past month. It used to happen when you were younger too. For a few weeks, you would be happy. Carefree. But one day could ruin it all.

You were fine one minute then crying the next. But you dealt with it because you had to. You didn’t want to burden your family or friends. It would get better soon. You knew that. Hell, even maybe by tomorrow, you’d be okay.

It wasn’t depression, that you knew. Your doctor had told you that it was your anxiety playing up and had given you medication to manage it when it arose in times of stress.

You couldn’t contain your laugh. Your whole life was one big stress. You weren’t even being dramatic either.

Over this past month, you had to deal with the many attempts on your girlfriend’s life and on yours by association. You had to deal with the fact that your sister was, in fact, an evil alien who wanted to kill...everyone, basically. You also had to hide out with your niece in your girlfriend’s brother’s mansion where yet another attempt on your life was made.

The only thing that helped manage your feelings now was that it was all over. Reign had been destroyed, giving you your sister back and your niece, her mother back. Your girlfriend was thriving, managing both CatCo and L-Corp. The Danvers sisters were good. Alex and Maggie were happy. As was Kara. Everyone was good. Except you.

You knew everything was better now but that didn’t stop you waiting for the other shoe to drop.

***

You were able to manage it alone.

If, after making plans, you felt like you weren’t up to it, you’d make up an excuse about having to work overtime. No one really questioned it. They knew being a lawyer came with odd and lengthy hours.

But you couldn’t hide it this time. You had to face everyone. You couldn’t cancel as much as you wanted to.

It was your birthday party after all.

Everyone had gathered at Sam’s house, including you who had arrived with your girlfriend. Truth be told, you were okay. For the first few hours anyway. You laughed with the Danvers sisters. You joked with Maggie, Sam and Ruby. You flirted with Lena. You were good.

But it was like something just switched.

Almost as if your own “Reign” had taken over.

You had momentarily detached yourself from the disagreement that had ensued in the group about the best female comedy and suddenly felt overwhelmed with a rush of sadness.

Quickly regaining your composure, you continued arguing with the group but your heart wasn’t in it anymore.

You thought no one had noticed.

But Lena had.

She always noticed.

***

You all were halfway through watching Ocean’s 8, now at the part where Nine Ball had hacked into the security department’s system.

You were cuddled up against your girlfriend, her arm wrapped protectively around your waist, giving no indication that she knew about your inner turmoil.

You began to feel the air around you constricting so you politely excused yourself from the group and made your way to your sister’s guest room, reserved for whenever you stayed over.

Unbeknownst to you, Lena followed.

Walking into the room, you sat down on the edge of the bed and whispered to yourself.

“Come on. Breathe, y/n. Breathe. You’re okay.” You tried to regulate your breathing, focusing on your different senses. When you got to ‘sound’, you heard a gentle knock on the door.

Panicking, you stood up, smoothing your hair and began rummaging around in the drawers, already formulating an excuse.

“Come in.” You answered.

Turning to face the door, you saw your girlfriend enter and gently close the door behind you.

“Hi, Lena. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just wanted to see where you had gone.”

“I was looking for my bracelet. I think I left it here the last time I stayed over.”

“You mean the one you’re wearing?” Lena asked, her brow arched at you in question.

Looking down at your wrist, you sighed. It was a good excuse as well. Sitting back down on the bed, you stared back up at your girlfriend.

“Why are you really here?”

“I told you. I wanted to see where you had gone.” She hesitated for a brief second, “I wanted to see if you were okay.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach. How did she know? You never showed it. You opened your mouth but no words came out but that was okay because Lena spoke for you.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Lena asked, still leaning against the door.

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“Y/N, seriously. What’s wrong?” She repeated.

“Nothing, Lena. I’m fine.” Now getting frustrated at her persistence.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” She said, still calm.

“Nothing.”

“Y/N.”

“Lena.”

“Y/N.”

It went on like this before you just...snapped.

Tears running down your face, you began to raise your voice.

“You want to know what’s wrong? Really? Well, I just want a moment to breathe. I just want to be happy. To stay happy. No more tears. No more waiting for the other shoe to drop. I just want the pain to disappear. I can’t take this. I want to be stronger than I am. I want to be who you all see me as. Happy. Carefree. I just need to be okay again.”

You ranted, tears now carelessly streaming down your face and you made no attempt to wipe them.

Lena’s own eyes filled with tears at your outburst. She made her way to sit on the bed beside you and took your hands in hers.

“There is no finish line, y/n. It’s not possible to get to a certain point in life where your problems have disappeared. It’s just not reality. And it’s unhealthy for you to think like that. No, let me finish.” She added when you opened your mouth to interrupt her.

“There is no finish line,” she repeated. “But you do have the capacity for recovery. You can set manageable expectations and goals. You can focus on your capacity for recovery and be proud of each step you take.”

You were speechless. You had never thought about it like that. You knew she had most likely paraphrased an article she had read, but you were grateful nonetheless.

When you felt that you could speak without your voice wavering, you did. “It’s like I’m...Like I’m numb. But at the same time, I feel everything. It’s hard to explain.”

Lena moved to brush your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Sucking in a harsh breath, you met your girlfriend’s clear green eyes. And saw perfect understanding there.

“God, I’m so sorry. I know you’re going through so much right now and that I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I’ve got Sammy back and we’re great too. I don’t know why I’m like this.”

“Hey. Hey.” Lena lifted your chin with her finger.

“It’s not a competition and don’t ever apologise for your feelings.”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, more tears sliding down your cheek. “I can’t breathe.”

Lena rose to her feet, beginning to panic believing you were having an anxiety attack.

“No, I’m okay. I just meant that I feel like I can’t breathe. Sometimes I just feel like I’m being suffocated.”

Without saying another word, Lena brought you to your feet and wrapped her arms around you in a tight embrace.

Before long, you were sobbing in her arms, finally allowing yourself succumb to your feelings and the overwhelming need to cry.

Lena still didn’t say a word. She just soothed you by stroking her hand through your hair and down your back.

Once your tears stopped, you attempted to remove yourself from Lena’s arms but she just held her arms tighter around you, resting your head back on her chest. Relenting, you relaxed against her, placing a soft kiss against her collar bone.

“Thank you for listening.”

She moved you both so you could lay together on the bed.

“Thank you for telling me.” Her arms were still wrapped protectively around you.

You lifted your head and placed a soft kiss on your girlfriend’s lips.

“I’m so glad you’re in my life. I love you, Lena Luthor.”

“I promise I’m always going to be here for you. And I love you too, Y/N L/N. Now go to sleep, for my sake.”

Opening the door quietly, Sam and the rest of the super-friends peered in the room, their faces softening at the sight of you in Lena’s arms, your face serene.

Lena opened her eyes and raised her brow, as if daring one of them to make a sound.

Sam put her hands up in defense before whispering a soft ‘thank you’ to her best friend and then closed the door gently behind her.

Turning around to face the rest of her family, she spoke, “I’m grateful Lena’s in y/n’s life. She’s been so down lately and she’s always struggled with it by herself just like when she was younger.”

Ruby walked up to her Mum and clung to her waist, leaning up to kiss her cheek. Then everyone else joined in until they were in one large group hug.

They all knew you were struggling.

And they all knew you tried your hardest to hide it from them.

But they knew.

Because they were your family.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

288 notes · View notes

lezliefaithwade · 4 years

Text

Thin Ice

Before I read “Harriet The Spy” I used to carry around a small notebook into which I wrote little tidbits about people I saw on street corners or at the mall. I was, and still am, obsessed with watching people. I’ve always been curious about their lives and how they tick. City buses were particularly good hunting grounds for quirky characters. Every day on my way to school I would wait to see what group of misfits the bus would collect and then in detail I’d write things like:

Friday -

The lady with the strange hat gets on at Ferry Street with her large mesh bag and shuffles to her regular seat behind the driver. Even though she’s four seats away from me, I can smell garlic and rose petals. She wears stockings that sag at her ankles and reminds me of elephants. I wish I could follow her. I wonder where she goes and what she puts inside that large mesh bag.

This habit of documenting events and people soon found its way into everyday life. It was, I see now, the equivalent of the cell phone. As long as I was engaged in my little book, I was safe from being noticed. Inherently introverted, I was never comfortable in large groups of people. High school parties were just painful reminders that I wasn’t pretty enough, or funny enough, or tall enough, or skinny enough and so I learned to hide. My notebook and pen became my shield of armour protecting me from engaging with the world. But even Superman has his kryptonite and mine was a boy named Richard.

Richard figure skated every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday at the same arena where I took lessons. Inspired by the artistry of Toller Cranston, and Oksana Baiul I was obsessed with the idea of speed and grace on ice. I wasn’t a great figure skater, but I was good enough to manage basic skills. No one paid much attention to me as I attempted camel spins and axels and spread eagles. The arena divas who shouted at you to “MOVE!” as they came flying into the corners got all the attention and I was just fine with that. I didn’t skate for anyone but myself.

My father, who paid for classes from his small paycheck, told me that I could only take lessons if I agreed to pass the CFSA (Canadian Figure Skating Association) tests. He figured that the acquisition of badges justified the expenditure. Perhaps he also thought that failing to achieve the badges might convince me that I didn’t have a future in skating. Either way, that was the deal. So, along with three lessons a week on jumps, spins and flips, I spent an hour every Wednesday on what was known in the skating world as compulsory figures practiced on a piece of clean and shiny ice called a Patch. I hated patch. It was dull, boring, useless work trying to trace circles and curly cues going forward and backward using the different edges of your skate blade. I was horrible at it. Impatient and bored I counted the minutes until it was over; and so it was that on one particular Wednesday, while attempting to trace a circle…I fell. It’s one thing to fall attempting a lutz or an axel. That signals a certain amount of intestinal fortitude. Falling on patch is practically unheard of. Imagine a stack of books falling in a library? Or a tin pot crashing onto the floor in a monastery where the monks have taken a vow of silence? That is what my crash landing was like at patch. Everyone stopped, stared and laughed. This was the ultimate humiliation for someone who did not want to be noticed. What was I to do but pick myself up and continue.

The rest of my session was agony. I couldn’t go home. Wasting hard earned cash was unheard of in my family. But I didn’t have the heart to skate. All my confidence had been sucked out of me. I imagined everyone wondering what I was doing at the rink. I didn’t belong. I set a bad example for the club. I didn’t even have a mother who could help me stake my claim on the ice, like all the other girls. Even in the change room, I only took up as much space as was absolutely necessary. Without my notebook to hide behind, I was vulnerable and afraid. As I shoved my skates into my bag and grabbed my coat for the long walk home, Richard stopped me.

“Nice fall on patch,” he said, not unkindly.

“Whatever,” I mumbled attempting to squeeze past him to the door.

“No,” he said, “I mean it. I hate patch. I always think I’m going to fall and now, I don’t have to worry. You’ve broken the stigma. Thanks.”

“Glad to be of service,” I smirked.

Richard was an excellent skater. He was strong and lean and his lines on the ice were lovely. Being only one of three male skaters at our club, it was hard not to notice him. He had ginger coloured hair, not unlike mine, and freckles. He had that boy next door look that reminded me of a less popular Ron Howard. I was not in his league.

“Listen,” he added, “I was wondering if you would be interested in going with me to my grade 12 formal?”

To this day I will never quite understand what Richard saw in me or why my disastrous fall inspired a guy I didn’t know to ask me out for the first time in my life. I was so in shock that before I knew it, I had said “yes.” Later I would come to realize that Richard had actually seen me before. The only female chess member in the Niagara region, I had beat my male opponent during a match at his school.

As the formal grew closer and closer, I began to have second thoughts. I’d never been on a date in my life but I had some idea of what might be expected, especially at a formal. I didn’t go to his school. I barely knew him. What if he tried to hold my hand? What if he tried to kiss me? What about dancing? What about slow dancing? I was overwhelmed with fear. This would not be the first time in my life that I said “yes” when I wanted to say “no”. It would take me many years to gain that kind of courage.

As the formal grew closer and closer it began to consume me. I took up an entire English class with my dilemma, soliciting the advice of my teacher and fellow students. I summoned up the courage to call Richard on the phone with the plan to cancel, but he insisted he’d spent a lot of money and guilted me into going through with it. With each passing day, I found myself disliking him more and more. At one point he called to make sure I was still going.

“Do I have a choice?” I asked him.

“Not really,” he said. And that was that.

Back at my own high school, I was becoming the centre of unwanted attention as everyone started to weigh in on my dilemma. One classmate took it upon himself to warn me of all the things Richard might try to do.

“If he reaches over to do up your seat belt, look out,” he warned. “If he locks your door, be careful.”

My head was spinning.

On the day of the formal I got dressed and was ready by 6:30. Richard picked me up at 8:00. In my journal I wrote: He brought me a corsage of roses. I don’t really like roses, but of course if he’d taken the time to get to know me, he would have discovered that. The moment I got into his car he did up my seat belt and locked my door. I swallowed hard, held my housekeys in my fist and girded my loins.

There was a dance, and dinner and more dancing. Richard was not particularly popular but he was respected. I don’t remember a lot of kids talking to him. Mostly he was just congratulated for winning every award at his school and a scholarship to McMaster. We did have one thing hugely in common – we were both nerds.

The thing I dislike about parties is that I never get to do what I really want, which is to talk. School dances were always an excuse to test sexual waters under half lit gymnasiums with mirror balls. If Richard and I had gone off to a stairwell to discuss current events, I think the evening might have been a huge success. But the pressure to be romantic was palpable. At one point he tried to hold my hand and I said I needed it to hold up my dress. I wrote in my journal that he danced so close to me that I could feel his knee in my stomach. THAT is how naïve I was. He tried to kiss me but I wouldn’t let him and eventually, finally, the night came to an end and he drove me home. I was almost out of the car when to my utter amazement he asked me out again. In so many words, I said, “No.” Not an actual “no” but one in so many words.

Richard wasn’t a bad guy. He just hadn’t paid attention to the fact that we were better suited as friends than something more. I would have liked it if we could have occasionally competed at chess. Intellectually matched, we could have discussed Turgenev or world religion or shared our adolescent poems in the park or songs on the guitar sitting cross-legged in a family room. And if I’d been better adjusted, more confident, I might have been able to suggest this alternative. But I wasn’t. I spent a long time feeling very guilty about how I’d behaved. I felt mean and selfish for having ruined his prom. I wondered if at any point he understood how terrified I had been?

The following Monday as I boarded the city bus, relieved that the ordeal of dating was over, I pulled out my little notebook ready to remark on the misfits on the bus when I realized that I was one of them. I wasn’t like everyone else, but then again – who is? Sooner or later I would have to face the music and dance and notebooks, skating lessons and chess club, no matter how solitary was not going to protect me forever from being noticed. This was not a bad thing, just something new to consider.

#prom #high school #first date #submission

4 notes · View notes

aeromuses · 4 years

Text

Ch. 1 Valentine Blues (A Hey Arnold Fan Fiction)

Notice: This fic takes place sometime between the FTi incident and now. Information may be semi-AU or not fit completely, based on my preferences or an easier “go-with-the-flow” storyline. With that being said, I still always aim to make my stories as canon as possible, or the very least to my standards. Enjoy!

“Now, now - CLASS...”

As the school room filled with excitable chatter, Mr. Simmons tried to maintain his importance throughout it all - the large swarms of elementary school children leaning forward in their desks, as he discussed the upcoming Valentine’s Day dance meant to wrap up their very last year at P.S. 118, knowing they would be all too excited, battling the anxious, yet strangely prideful fluttering in his stomach upon the sentimental realization that this would be his very last year teaching everyone.

“Class, everyone! Now I know we’re very excited for tonight’s dance, but let’s not forget the importance of slowing down to smell the roses, or oh, say - the snowflakes, since it’s currently a little blustery outside,” There was a light chuckle, until... “OH, who am I kidding? Class is dismissed early, kids! Everyone have a wonderful evening, and don’t forget to pick up your valentine’s on the way out. Wouldn’t want to forget those...”

“Yeah, yeah...ya-de-ya-de. Valentine’s...sure, right. Looking into MY box is like gazing into the bottom of an empty PRINGLES can.” There was nearly always an almost inaudible muttering at the end of each day, Arnold had noticed, that was Helga G. Pataki, as she marched to the doorway, her voice, however, loud enough to just barely make it to his ears, sure that he could have easily heard past it, if he weren’t the second to last one out the door, observing how it was almost like...almost like she were talking to herself, but hoping someone would acknowledge that she was in the room. Arnold, regrettably, had never even really noticed this, consciously, until the beginning of the year...shortly after-

“Move-IT-”

With gritted teeth, mind bubble popping like a firm balloon, Helga Pataki was simply standing right behind Arnold Shortman, as if waiting in line, almost resemblant to the way Brainy did, excluding any sensations of her breathing down his neck.

“What are you DEAF?”

There was a hard silence, Arnold’s heart thumping at a noticeable pace, as he tried to shrug off any uncomfortable feelings she had been attempting to instill within him. This was Helga, and the last thing he needed was to admit to himself that she could be a little intimidating, to say the least...not Helga persay, but her proximity, rather, after their last encounter.

It had been 4 months...4 months since Helga had spilled her guts out to him, and even though they had brushed it off like it were an accident, Arnold had a hard time looking at her the same again. Deep down, he was just a little...freaked out, to be honest.

1....

2....

3...

Seconds passed, until...

WHAM!

And with a kick to his backside, he had hit the floor, hands extending, as valentine’s from his collected box flew everywhere.

Everything...yet nothing had changed...

An involuntary groan, and Arnold was rubbing the side of his head, feeling humiliated for letting it happen, again. That is, things escalating with Helga, her usual cackle and sneer as she abandoned him beneath the door frame.

“See ya later, sucker.”

Frowning, Arnold had to wonder...Why did he have to freeze up like that, anytime he saw Helga’s assaults coming? Wasn’t he used to it by now? Would it just always remain the same? Helga, getting away with everything she did?

There was a sigh, until Gerald appeared, as if a knight in red hooded armor, always seeming to pop up at just the right moment...or the worst one, depending on how you looked at it.

“Aaar-nold, you know I love you man, but WHEN are you gonna STAND UP to the MAN? I hate seeing you push over to her like this. I oughta...oughta-”

Raising a hand in defense, there was a harmless shake of blonde hair. “It’s alright, Gerald. Really, i’m fine.” He wasn’t the one who saw Helga that summer ago, after all. It was he who had to live with that burden, not Gerald. “It only makes her-”

“-look bad. I know, I know. I’ve heard it a hundred times...” A red sleeve wrapped around the boy’s shoulder, as his best friend pulled him in, so they were now shoulder to shoulder. “C’mon man, let’s get out of here and talk about somethin’ else.”

“Slausen’s?” Arnold would smile at his invitation.

“Slausen’s, and then it’s game on!”

Arnold frowned however, knowing what that implied. “You going with Phoebe?”

“I’m sorry, Arnold! Hey, it’s not like you don’t have time to ask anyone! What about Ruth or Lila or, or-”

“No, it’s okay. You know what Gerald? I think I may actually head straight home...thinking of taking a nap, or maybe just forgetting the dance all together.”

Besides, Ruth was graduated already by now, and Lila was only a friend. Arnold had gotten over her a while ago, and Gerald knew this. He couldn’t blame his friend, getting excited and going desperate measures. After a pitiful silence, Gerald spoke up once more.

“A nap huh? Are you...sure Arnold? I mean sure-sure?”

“Yeah, i’m sure...” Forcing a small smile to convince his friend, Arnold began going his separate way.

“Maybe you do need a nap.” He smiled, and then Arnold smiled back, waving goodbye, only to hide the indifference on his face as he turned the corner, a distinct look of apathy there, as his eyelids draped down halfway, displaying a new expression.

Man, they sure do spend a lot of time together...

Losing Gerald to Phoebe had been hard for Arnold, who had been feeling especially isolated lately, another sigh escaping him. He missed his best friend. The funny thing was though, he knew that if he told him, he would happily cancel plans. He supposed, deep down, that was about the worst part of it all...

Arms stretching out wide, Arnold let his lithe frame collapse onto his bed, as he entered his room in the boarder house, rolling to his side only to set an alarm for an hour or so before the dance, in case he decided to show up.

And before he knew it, there was his alarm, going “Hey Arnold, Hey Arnold!” signifying it was already time to hop back to reality.

MEANWHILE...

Gosh, i’m so stupid, so hopelessly deranged, so horrible to that football head. How could I do something like that to the guy on Valentine’s Day? What’s wrong with you, Helga? Miriam must have had something slipped into her drink before I was born, for cryin’ out loud! What did I DO?

Arms flailing out in every direction of the bed in desperation, as Helga lie in her adolescent bedroom, nearly kicking the covers right off and onto the floor, fists clenched, as tears were nearly welling up in the corners of her eyes.

“How dare I...must I...” An emotional sigh, turning into a scowl, however, as the young girl was interrupted.

“HELGA, how many times do I have to tell you not to lock this door!?” There was a loud rattling coming from the other side of the room, growing increasingly more aggressive, until Helga’s face had no other option but to go deadpan.

“Well jeez, he actually got my name right, the one time I don’t want to be noticed...nice goin’, Bob...”

Feet hitting to the floor lazily, Helga gets up like a zombie, slumping herself to the door. “Cripes, it’s not my fault these doors are busted! Weren’t you or Miriam supposed to call that one in or fix these or somethin’ - OUCH!”

With some rattling of her own, the door finally busts open, Helga nearly pinching herself, on who knows what, as it swings open full force, just barely missing her head.

“I don’t know, but things are going to start changing around here, young lady...” Bob walks into the room like a ‘friggin’ dictator’, for lack of a better word from Helga, noseying around the entire room.

“Yeah, okay Hitler.” She rolls her eyes, as he begins popping open draws and scrummaging, eventually swinging open the closet door too, causing Helga’s eyes to pop open wide. “Hey, what gives!?”

“HELGA, what is this mess!? Rotten watermelon? You better clean this up pronto! I’m looking for the remote to the TV! Thought you might have been hidin’ it up here.”

“Dad, since when do I watch TV?” A whine, only ever emitted in the company of her parents, or when she was in the presence of something really scary, such as a sewer rat, suddenly vocalizing across the room. She couldn’t help it - Big Bob and Miriam were irritating!

“And for your information, BOB, I don’t have it! I’m getting ready for a dance, actually, so if you would just EXCUSE yourself this way, rrrrrgh!” With all of her force, Helga tried pushing him back out the door, only causing him to turn and growl in more anger, harmlessly swinging at her pink bow. “You gotta go, dad, and you gotta go now! I don’t have much time to get ready and impress Arrrr, uh-uh artichokes!”

Artichokes! That was a good one! Why didn’t I ever relay that code name to Phoebe?

And before she knew it, all she could hear was her dad’s mumbling about nut jobs, before something came crashing down abruptly, hitting her dead in the face, like your typical Helga G. Pataki epiphany.

“WAIT a minute - did I just say impress Arnold? No, I can’t do that! Not after that stupid confession! He knows WAY too much. I can’t have the spotlight on me. That would just overwhelm us both! I gotta come up with a plan! Something solid...something...”

Eyes widening, scanning the room, stopped at the stand in closet, where all of Helga’s different outfits were kept, gasping to herself. This included disguises, of course.

“Phoebe?”

A squeak emitted from the other line, indicating her best friend and trusty sidekick had picked up.

“Keep your eyes peeled, because tonight Cecile is making an entrance at the Valentine’s Day Dance.”

There was a smirk, and that was it, before Helga Pataki hung up the phone, leaving her friend to peice out the rest.

#hey arnold #hey arnold fanfic #hey arnold fanfiction #helga #arnold #helga pataki #arnold shortman #helga x arnold #arnold x helga #arnold and helga fanfic #shortaki

14 notes · View notes