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hyuniebaby · 4 years

Text

Lip Ring

Pairings: Baekhyun x Y/N

Rating: m (mature)

AU: fratboy!Baekhyun

Warning: overstimulation, uh cursing??

A/N: As I’ve said, I think about Kokobop era Baekhyun at least once a week so here’s a fic dedicated to him. Someone please bring him back. 😫 I got so flustered writing this, watch me hide after I post it. 😂 I kinda wanna write a part 2 because Y/N owes Jongin but it’ll depend on the readers’ feedback and my mood of course... I hope you all enjoy this!

I’m reposting this because the tags weren’t showing up

It was always so loud in the hallways. Whenever classes ended, a swarm of students murmuring were always heard. You got used to it pretty quickly though. You could easily block whatever nonsense the other students were talking about. Who would want to constantly hear them complain about their annoying professor or the homeworks that piled up on them?

This time though, the murmurs were different, you note, as you put your books inside your locker. Instead of the usual rants and complaints that the other students say, today it sounded like they were gossiping and gushing at the same time.

You understood why the sounds the students were making were different as you turned around. Right behind you was one of the most famous students in the campus. Heartthrob, heartbreaker, fuckboy, frat boy, trouble — he had so many titles, it was hard to keep track. Byun Baekhyun.

Quite frankly, you had titles too, but you couldn’t be bothered to know them. As far as you know, they called you the female counterpart of Baekhyun, which isn’t necessarily a lie. The only thing different from you and Baekhyun was that he was in a fraternity and you weren’t in a sorority.

Sure, you’ve been sleeping around, just not as often as Baekhyun. However, recently you’ve been doing it less. Since you’ve hooked up with Kim Jongin, you kinda found yourself on the sheets with him more than you would like to admit. But you two weren’t exclusive, just regular fuck buddies.

You’ve had boys lining up on you the same way he had girls lining up for him, but of course you weren’t the type to settle, no matter how good of a guy they were. Even if he’s the Kim Jongin. You’re too young to be tied down. Apparently you shared the same mindset as Byun Baekhyun.

You raise your brow at the sight of Baekhyun, wondering why on Earth was he standing before you. You didn’t have to look at the other students around you to know what they were talking about. Of course, it was only a matter of time that the most famous female student crossed paths with him.

Although you have quite a reputation, everybody knows not to flirt with you inside the campus. If they wanted you in bed with them, they had to catch you in bars, clubs, or parties. And they had to impress you. You downright rejected everyone who dares talk to you on campus. So it surprised everyone when Baekhyun came to talk to you in school.

You had to admit, you admired his guts. It’s been a while since a male had the guts to talk to you in the hallways, unfortunately for that guy though, you didn’t even spare him a glance. But who were you to deny yourself of looking at Baekhyun in all his glory? He was, after all, wearing his iconic lip ring.

Your eyes wander from the red streaks on his hair to his mullet, then to his lip ring. From there you gazed at his neck that was adorned with a cross necklace and then his broad shoulders. He was wearing a thin see through black t-shirt, and if you looked close enough, you would be able to see the outline of his abs. He looked absolutely delectable even if it seems like he wasn’t even trying.

When you look back at his face, you see he has his signature smirk on. He was fully aware that you were checking him out. He’s cocky, you thought, but with that face and that body, you could understand why. Just like any other girl, the sight of his smirk made your legs weak.

It’s been so long since you’ve met a guy who had so much sex appeal even when they weren’t doing anything remotely sexual. And this was one way to describe Byun Baekhyun. Oh god, you were such a sucker for frat boys and bad boys. He’s definitely someone that piqued your interest and that only means one thing — you wanted him.

You had to keep your act on though, if you gave Baekhyun the time of the day, other boys might take it as a sign that they can approach you too. So after you took a good look on him, you turned and walked away, even if you were dying to know why he was there.

You hear a collective Oohh’s and laughter behind you, most probably from his friends who you saw were lurking at the end of the hallway, watching the interaction.

You walk to your next class with your books in your hand, still wondering about what Baekhyun wanted to talk to you about.

As you sit down at your usual place, your friend Lisa immediately leans to your side. “So I’ve heard about what happened.”

“What the fuck?” Gossips spread so fast. How was that even possible? It didn’t even take you ten minutes to reach your room and whatever transpired in the hallway had already circulated.

Lisa rolls her eyes at you. “Don’t look so shocked. You know how many people are fawning over Baekhyun. Plus, you’re quite popular yourself, may I remind you.”

You groan. “Yeah, right. Whatever.”

“Anyway, rumors say that he was supposed to invite you to their frat party this weekend.” She raises her eyebrows up and down.

You perk up at the word “party” and immediately plastered a grin. “Let’s go then!”

Lisa laughs at your enthusiasm. She knew you loved parties. “Maybe you should’ve listened to him talk. At least then you wouldn’t have looked like a curious cat.”

“Maybe he should’ve just said ‘Party at Alpha Phi Alpha this weekend’ instead of just standing behind me or letting me ogle at him,” you shot back.

She snickers at your response. “Knowing you, you wouldn’t have faced him at all if he blurted that out. You’d probably respond with a noncommittal hum or something.”

“I guess you’re right.” You grin at her.

She shakes her head while laughing, “Of course I am.”

That was how you ended up facing your vanity mirror on a Saturday night. You were wearing a lace burgundy bralette and high waisted denim shorts. Initially you wanted to wear only those articles of clothing, however, you opted to wear a white silk shirt on top of it and tucked it in without buttoning it. You made sure the shirt shows your lace bralette. You could always take the shirt off if it got too hot anyway. You applied a bright red lipstick on your lips to finish off your look.

Just as you put your lipstick on the bag, Lisa calls you to inform you that she’s in front of your apartment with her boyfriend Bambam. You quickly went on your way to Bambam’s car and greeted them.

Lisa whistles upon seeing you, “Damn, you’re going to make the boys crazy.”

You roll your eyes at her. You’re hoping to make at least one guy crazy, and it’s Byun Baekhyun.

When you reach the frat house, you trail behind the couple. You stop a couple of times to greet the few friends you got to meet over the years you’ve been attending this kind of parties.

You finally reached Lisa in the kitchen drinking a bottle of beer. “Here’s Ms. Popular’s drink,” she teases you as she hands over one bottle to you.

You grab the bottle gratefully. “There’s Baekhyun,” Lisa whispers as you take a long gulp at your beer. You follow her line of sight to find him mingling with people. He hasn’t seen you yet which was good because you didn’t have enough alcohol in your system yet.

He was wearing a yellow linen and silk blend ethnic print blazer with a belt. His chest was fully exposed thanks to the absence of an undershirt. As always, Byun Baekhyun was dressed to impress.

And god, oh god, that mullet and the red streaks. It was a sight to behold. Somehow the hairstyle fit him perfectly. The look makes him hotter than your average guy. The sight of him was enough to make any woman swoon over him. You quickly turn away after taking a good look at his appearance.

Lisa then spots her classmates in one of the classes you didn’t share together. She excitedly drags you over to meet them. She introduces you to the group and they welcome you openly. You were quick to finish your beer after conversing with Lisa’s friends, so you excused yourself to grab another drink.

You poured yourself another drink and walked back to your friends, but not before stealing another glance at the place you last saw Baekhyun. His eyes now met yours. After a few minutes of staring, his eyes travel to your body. You see him lick his lips at the sight of your attire. This alone made you feel things. You were glad to have gotten a reaction from him.

It was when he looked away that you noticed that a girl was actually beside him, openly flirting with him. He flirts back with a knowing smile.

You raise your brow at the sight, a small smile on your face. Oh, so this was Baekhyun’s plan, you thought.

Normally, you wouldn’t entertain the challenge. Why bother going through such trouble? It was easier to find another guy anyway. But if Baekhyun wants to play, then who are you to walk away?

Instead of walking towards your friends, you went in a different direction. The person you were looking for was easy to spot. You walk across the room towards him, feeling a pair of eyes follow your movement.

Kim Jongin smirks as he finds you walking to his direction. He quickly excuses himself from his group of friends and walks over to you. You watch him as he eyes your outfit.

You place your hands at his chest and lean to his ear, “Wanna dance?”

He grabs your hand and leads you to where most people were dancing. You glance at Baekhyun to see his reaction to the interaction. His jaw was clenched, posture tense. Exactly the reaction you wanted.

When Baekhyun saw you walking towards Jongin, his eyes twitched. Of course he knew your and Jongin’s set-up, everyone does. That’s why there weren’t as many men approaching you as before. But not everyone knew the two of you weren’t exclusive.

He watches as Jongin moves towards your form and slides his hand on your waist naturally. He sees you place your hand on Jongin’s chest and whisper something to his ear.

Not tonight, Jongin. You’re not gonna have Y/N tonight, Baekhyun thinks.

Baekhyun tears his gaze off of you. He faces the girl clinging to her. The girl instantly melts at his gaze. “Do you want to dance, baby?” He says huskily.

“Yes,” she says breathily.

He wants to pity the girl for falling into his charms so easily when she was just a pawn to get to you, but he doesn’t feel any remorse. He’s far too used at doing things like this.

He angles their bodies so that he was directly in your line of vision. The girl quickly loses herself into the music and he finds himself doing the same.

You paid no attention whatsoever to Baekhyun at first, despite seeing him at your periphery. You were swaying your hips and raising your hands over your head, occasionally touching Jongin on his chest. At one point, you turn your back to Jongin, he immediately places his hands on your hips. This was the moment your eyes traveled to Baekhyun. You smirk as you noticed his eyes were on you already. You maintain eye contact as you grinded on Jongin.

But Jongin isn’t clueless, he knows what you’re doing. He knows you were giving Baekhyun a show. He moves your hair and whispers to your ear, “I know what you’re doing, darling.”

You tilt your head, “Just go with it.”

“You’re a naughty girl.”

You face Jongin again and place your hands on his shoulders.

Jongin leans awfully close, “What’s in it for me?”

You don’t pull away, “I’ll owe you one.”

“And if this doesn’t work on him?”

“We can always have fun together.”

He smirks, “Tempting. I’m kinda hoping it doesn’t work out for you.”

You roll your eyes at him and continue to dance with him.

You were enjoying the touches of Jongin way too much for Baekhyun’s liking. Quite frankly, you were in Jongin’s bubble and you almost forgot you were doing this to get Baekhyun’s attention.

Until Baekhyun walks towards your direction fuming. Jongin removes his hands on you immediately but not before he whispers, “You owe me.” Then he backs up slowly.

You turn around exactly as Baekhyun stops in front of you. You feign innocence and say, “Hi, Baekhyun.”

But he greets you with a passionate kiss instead. It took you a few seconds to comprehend what was happening, too stunned by the sudden action. But once you realized what was happening, you immediately responded to his lips.

Everything happened so fast after that. One minute you were kissing Baekhyun in the living room of their frat house, the next he was dragging you into his room. Was it always like this with Baekhyun?

In no time you’re in his room. He pinned you to the wall as soon as you both entered. His lips immediately latched on to yours. You smile into the kiss, knowing that you succeeded in your plan.

Now that you were alone together, away from the watching eyes of the other students, you allow yourself to enjoy the kiss. The kiss was nothing soft, of course, it isn’t, it was fueled by lust and jealousy after all. If anything, it was needy and rough. Just the way you wanted.

You were so into the kiss that you didn’t notice it at first. The lip ring. His lip ring. You were only able to tell once you pulled away to catch your breath and took a good look at his face up close. So that’s why it felt different, the lip ring was the reason.

He sees you watch his lip when you pull away. He allows you to look at it until he bites his lips and you break out of your trance. You gulp before kissing him again. The kiss became much, much rougher than before.

Your hands found purchase in his hair. You hear him moan silently as you tugged his surprisingly soft locks. The sound instantly makes you wet down there.

His hands travel all over your body as his breaths grow heavier. You, on the other hand, take this opportunity to latch your lips on his neck. Your right hand travels from his chest to his abs and then to his hardening bulge. You palm him over his jeans as you suck on his neck. You made sure you left your mark so he can have a reminder that this night happened. He groans at the sensation you were giving him. You were so, so good at what you’re doing.

As you give him more love bites, you start unbuckling his belt, and then you pull off his blazer. You were quick to unzip his pants and pull out his shaft, pumping him as you gave one last suck on his neck.

When you were done assaulting his neck and his chest, you let your eyes feast on his naked body. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“It’s not gonna suck itself, baby.” He tsks as he places a hand over yours that’s pumping his shaft.

You immediately kneel in front of him. You look up at him as you give him kitten licks at first. “Stop teasing. You’ve already done enough of that a while ago.” He growls.

You grab his cock tighter and start taking him in your mouth. You watched as he rolled his head back and his face contorted with pleasure. You bobbed your head up and down his shaft. You swirl your tongue on his tip and taste the precum leaking on it. He moans loudly at that.

You hollow your cheeks after taking him in again. Your left hand travels to his balls and you gently massage it as you continue to suck him. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” He moans.

His moans grew louder and louder as you kept repeating your actions. His sounds were so sinful, it made you so wet and he hasn’t even properly touched you yet. You allow him to thrust into your mouth. “You take my cock so well.” He praises you breathily.

But when you feel him twitching, you pull away. This angers Baekhyun. He was so close.

He smashes his lips to yours, kissing you with fervor. He roughly removes your satin shirt and throws it carelessly on the floor. For a moment he debates on whether or not to remove your lace bralette, the sight of it did drive him crazy the first time he saw you today, after all. Fuck it, he thinks. He wants to see you naked and to suck on your tits so badly. He pulls your bralette over your head and within seconds, he attaches his lips onto your mounds. You arch your back as he does this, your body reacting to his touch.

He sucks on your right nipple as his left hand squeezes your other boob. His hands were alternately tugging and squeezing your nipples. He gives your mounds equal attention and has you squirming on his touch.

You whimper as he slides his hand inside your shorts. He was rubbing you right where you wanted him. “You’re so fucking wet. Did you have fun making me watch you and Jongin on the dance floor?” You hear an edge on his tone. Fuck, that was so sexy.

He presses his finger on your clit, “Answer me.”

“Y-yes.”

He quickly gets you off of your shorts and panties. He slides a finger in you and you gasp at the sudden intrusion. “You’re so naughty, kitten. You let me watch you grind on another man and then you stop blowing me just as I was about to cum,” he says, voice dripping with lust. He pumps his finger in and out of your core. He has you moaning then.

He adds a second finger and says, “You’re gonna be a good girl and take what I give, right kitten?”

“Hmm. Yes.” You moan.

“Good,” and just then he adds another finger and starts to thrust into your core at a quick pace. You’re overwhelmed with the sensation and you could feel your legs almost giving up. He holds you upright as he pushes his fingers knuckle deep into your core. You feel a familiar knot forming and your moans grow more sinful at that. “Moan my name,” he demands.

“Baekhyun!” You moan loudly as you reach your climax.

“We’re not done yet, kitten,” Baekhyun says as he carries you to his bed. “You look so pretty like this, under me with that fucked out look.”

He kisses you again, letting you recover first. You kiss him back with passion. His lips travel to your jawline and then to your neck. You didn’t peg him as the type to leave hickeys so when he starts biting and sucking on your skin, you whimper. You loved being covered with love marks. He must’ve known this too because as he finished branding you with one, he moves on to another part and does it again, and again.

“Baekhyun…” You say breathily as you grab his erection.

His breath hitches. You pump him excruciatingly slow. “Baekhyun… I need you in me.”

He reaches for a packet of condom, rips the foil and puts it on.

“Beg for it,” he says huskily.

Oh, if he only knew how stubborn you are. You kissed him then, and he was caught off guard. You used this opportunity to flip your positions so you were on top.

He leans back on his elbows, eyes twinkling as he anticipates what you’re going to do next. But your eyes weren’t on his face, it was on his abs, which became more prominent in this position.

He was driving you crazy. You grinded your core into his erection slowly. He shuts his eyes. You lift your hips up and line his cock into your opening. He releases another sinful moan as you sunk into him. “You’re so fucking tight.”

When you’ve adjusted to his size, you start moving your hips up and down. He opens his eyes to watch you as you pleasure yourselves. In the beginning, he lets you move on your own, but as your pace grows faster, his hips start thrusting too. You felt so good, he wanted to close his eyes and lose into the feeling but he couldn't. Not when your tits were bouncing like that. Not when you looked that hot riding him. “You’re so sexy, kitten,” he proclaims with gritted teeth.

When Baekhyun feels you clenching on him, it drives him crazy. He pulled out and positioned your ass up and face down on the bed. He holds your hips tightly as he slams himself into you. His pace was fast and brutal. The headboard slams loudly on the walls as he thrusts into you. This position allows him to reach different parts inside you.

“Baekhyun… Faster,” you plead as you gripped on the sheets.

He didn’t have to be told twice. He starts moving his hips faster and rougher than before. “I-I’m cumming!” You exclaim.

You feel yourself climax but Baekhyun doesn’t stop, he continues to slam his hips against you. You whimper from being overstimulated. Tears start gathering in your eyes as the sensation becomes too overwhelming. He starts rubbing your clit and it sends another wave of pleasure to you. Your walls were clenching on him so tightly, his pace started stuttering. He couldn’t stop chanting profanities alongside your name as he feels himself getting closer to his climax.

You feel him release his seed into the condom just as you came again. He immediately pulls out and gets rid of the condom. He lays on the bed momentarily to catch his breath. You were both panting so hard after the activity.

There was only silence besides the sound of your breathing. Baekhyun suddenly stands up and picks up his clothes. He goes to his bathroom. When he came back, he was only half naked. He has his jogging pants on already. His right hand holds a wet towel that he uses to clean you up. “Thank you Baekhyun,” you croak, voice a little hoarse from the loud moaning you did earlier.

He smirks, “you were amazing, kitten.” Then he pecks your lips. He slides back into his bed and pulls you towards him. “Now go get some rest.”

#baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfic #exo angst #baekhyun angst #exo fluff #baekhyun fluff #exo fanfiction #baekhyun fanfiction #exo baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun #bbh

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actual-fucking-clown · 3 years

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I just heard that you're doing requests!!! I already love your content and fully agree that Natsuo Todoroki is King~!!! If I may bother to ask a request? Just all the hcs you want to write about Ice Man bc it's getting to June where I live, and I don't mind cooling down~

Tera, my beloved, I'm going to be honest I literally fucking screamed upon seeing this request!!! I’ve been reading your fics before I even had like an acc here, so we vibin :) Also after the day I’ve had I need some fucking Ice man in my life n hopefully doing this will help me write my way out of the writers block that has been plaguing me for months!!!!

Future Blue here to say I had up to like all done last night and then my internet ate shit and I lost everything after 5. smfh. Woulda been done last night but the loss of my writing got me fucked up lolololololol. N e way

Warnings: cursing obvi, uh like nsfw for a hc or 2, my unorganized hcs that really follow no succinct line of thought and might not even be actual hcs???????

So Natsuo,

There is not a thing I wouldn’t do for this man, bc honestly after all the shit he’s put up with he deserves the world and then some. But I digress.

1. I think he’s a hesitant but attentive boyf. Like he seems like a genuinely friendly dude but I think it’d take him a while to properly warm up to someone enough to date them. And even then I think he might struggle to open up to his partner about anything like, emotionally. Not to say he’s entirely emotionally closed off or anything but somethings are just harder to trust people with. The main thing being his familial issues. And of course that’s were most of this stems from.

Now for the attentive part. His family dynamic has set a precedent on what not to do in a relationship so he’s always hyper aware of the things he or his s/o does, trying his best to avoid making any of the mistakes his parents made. Of course if he finds the right person he’ll be surprised to find that having a non-toxic relationship can be less stressful than he thought. It’s like a huge weight was just lifted from his shoulders.

2. He’s fucking hella romantic. Like he’s shitty romance movie romantic. He’s out here trying his best n woof. Gimme gimme. On date nights he pulls out all the stops. Sometimes it’s a nice classic dinner date at a pretty nice restaurant downtown, or it’s a picnic in the park at noon, or it’s stargazing from the roof of his or his s/o’s dorm/apartment/house, or driving out to a beach just for a long walk at sunset, or road trips to nowhere in particular. I could go on, I really could but you get the gist.

3. He’s got shitty pickup lines for days. Whenever I say shitty I mean like “god I hate it but at the same time I love it” kinda shitty. But yeah he likes to see his s/o’s reaction to his stupid pickup lines, whether they get flustered, or die laughing, or groan and make a snide remark, he’s here for it. Shoot one back at him and he get’s so absolutely red. Mans wasn’t ready. Mans will never be ready.

4. This just came to me but let’s be honest a lot of us here, myself included, have some sort of fucking daddy kink and like, I get it obvi but in this situation never call this man daddy. I feel like for him that is an instant turn off. I’m sorry to everyone I’m letting down but sometimes daddy issues don’t lead to a daddy kink.

5. But on the topic of kinks I think this man is pretty vanilla, he doesn’t scream “freak” to me, you know? Just normal amazing sex. Oh but he does enjoy hella praise both receiving and giving.

6. Hopping off that train of thought and onto another I think he kinda tries to keep his s/o as far away from his family as possible. He doesn’t hate them (when I say them you know i mean everyone except Enji bc he avoids that man like the plague and like keeping his s/o far far far away from that man was a given), no he just likes to have something so utterly untouched by his family issues. Mans needs a breath of fresh air.

-These next 2 I think will veer off from being hcs a bit and just like shit that I like to think about in general. Does that make sense? Who knows lololol. N e way. I like to think a lot about two aspects of this man, well 1 aspect of the man himself and one....dynamic? It’ll make sense in a few so just hear me out.

7. Ok so like I saw this post somewhere eons and eons ago. It was long before current manga events, maybe around the time we’d just gotten Natsuo in the manga. My memory of this post is hazy at best so bear with me as I stumble over my thoughts. Obvi at this point in time we had little to nothing on this beautiful, beautiful man, so people were left to theorize. So this one post, was really that shitty meme where it’s like “small brain if you think such n such, bigger brain if this, n galaxy brain if this, etc., etc.” Where in essence it was like, “He probably has a weak ice quirk but what if some sort of ice based healing quirk or no quirk at all!” N i think about it a lot to this day. I don’t believe that either of those are true but I do think it is absolutely immaculate food for thought so uh do with that what you will.

8. I guess this is back on hc territory but Natsuo isn’t picky with who he dates, as long as you’re not an asshole he’s kinda set, good to go. Now most of the fics for him you’ll see are like “ay yo, you’re another college hoe or like you’re just a civilian” but like what would the dynamic be if he dated a hero?????? I don’t think he hates heroes but his father has definitely had an impact on his view of them. He’s not enamored with them like I guess the rest of the population is so what if hero s/o?????? Perhaps?????? Have I suddenly had a fic idea??????? I like the idea of Natsuo with a like super popular Pro hero s/o or with like a super lowkey underground hero idk this whole post has been me spitballing shit.

9. Back onto proper hcs, it’s a common one that mans runs cold and ugh pls yes. It is also June rn and while the past few days have been cool and sexy the weeks prior had been hellish and on top of that I despise summer so give me all of that. Mans is your personal ac, he’s not opposed to his s/o just spending a hellishly hot day laying on top of him as they watch garbage reality tv.

10. Can we talk love language? Physical touch. He just radiates that energy. Probably touch starved, obviously due to you know what. But yeah definitely a hard physical touch. (Which is actually my least favorite love language considering I’m quite ✨𝓣𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓾𝓵𝓼𝓮𝓭 ✨but hey I’m not here to project I’m just here to tell you what I see n therefore think) He likes to be touching his s/o like 24/7. Out in public shopping or some shit? Holding hands, linked pinkies, arm around the shoulders or waist. At home? Sheesh be ready to be smothered bb.

TLDR: What a man 🥵

I think I’ve gotten most if not all of my thoughts about our beloved ice man out. I hope you enjoyed my nonsensical ramblings :)

Have a good morning/afternoon/night!!!!!

#natsuo x reader #natsuo todoroki x reader #natsuo todoroki #mha xreader #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #BNHA Headcanons #mha headcanons #asks #god i hope at least some of this made sense #thanks for the request I had a fucking ball writing all this shit #:)

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pointnumbersixteen · 3 years

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How do you see The Captain's coming out, and growth in confidence and self acceptance thereafter taking place?

I like this question! …and I’m probably going to elaborate on it a bit more than many people will want to read (I noticed back when I was regularly writing essay length posts that they did not get a lot of love) and it’s probably going to get even more ramble-y than usual (brain has not been braining as cooperatively as it should recently and the decision to drink half a bottle of wine right before answering this- sorry- probably does not help), but here we are.

About coming out scenarios, none of mine are particularly elaborate. While I do think he needs to come out for his story line to progress, I can’t imagine him making a big thing out of it (long or elaborate announcements, heart-to-hearts, emotional displays of bearing his authentic self or any of the like), either with the group, or person-by-person, for several reasons:

First off, that sort of a coming-out to-do is a more modern notion, and I doubt he was a particularly modern person even when he was alive, seventy-five years ago. His notions of privacy and propriety are probably much more conservative than ours, and I feel like that makes it unlikely that he’d go into any sort of detail, at least at early in this process, about his feelings/emotions or the specificities of his attractions. We’re talking about a man who doesn’t even use his own name. It’s difficult to picture him going into depth about his desires and love life.

Secondly, he’s a bit of a social coward. (He’s not a physical coward, of course, he jumped on that bomb in the garden without hesitation, and acknowledged after the fact that he gotten caught up in the moment, and therefore hadn’t really thought about how a bomb couldn’t hurt him.) And I get it, I’m a bit of a social coward, too, so no judgement. He probably faced a lot of ridicule in his life. Being a social coward is totally fair. But he doesn’t put himself into situations that might involve awkward interpersonal interactions if he can help it, and legs it whenever interactions he’s already in become to awkward for him. I feel like he’s probably quite desperate (although he’d never admit to it) to save face and protect what bits of his ego remain unscathed.

Think about it: he could have spoken to Fanny on his own about her nightly screaming disturbing him in s1e1, they have a clear association established at the outset of the show, they leave Heather’s room together at the end of the very first scene, but he doesn’t do so until he has the weight of the whole group to back him up about the screaming at their meeting. He had to buck up his courage and give himself his little ‘over the top we go’ pep talk before going to speak to Alison in Gorilla War. Also, if there was actually something wrong with his soldiers’ horseplay after hours in Reddy Weddy- if it was breaking regulations or even his own orders for quiet hours- and he heard it, he could have gone down directly when he heard it, confronted whoever was involved and order them to stop or put them on report. But no, instead he addressed the entire group of soldiers in a sixteen point morning brief. He even dispatched Pat to confront Alison about the party in s2e2, instead doing it himself… and spit out his apology/reconciliation with Pat at the end as fast as possible. And as for legging it when things get awkward, see his retreats following the group confronting him in Getting Out and after Alison telling him he wasn’t needed in the Grey Lady- and on a more figurative than literal level, but most relevantly, his quick turn from ‘I’ll miss you’ to ‘we’ll miss you’ with Havers in Reddy Weddy.

This is not a man who wants to be in awkward or embarrassing situations. And I think that coming out, at least at first, will probably be a bit embarrassing for him- it was scandalous in his time, and I think it will take him longer to get over that feeling and come to terms with himself than it will to finally acknowledge that he’s gay. So I doubt he’d make more of it than he utterly feels he has to, at least at first. And of course, he’d have to be a bit afraid that people would judge him or stop associating with him over it, as sadly, in his own time many people would have done, and most of the ghosts are from even earlier times than he was. So that might add more hesitation…

And thirdly, he doesn’t like and/or respect many of his house mates. The other twentieth century ghosts are the only ones he spends much time with. I doubt he’d go out of his way to communicate much of anything to the rest if it wasn’t “mission related” much less discuss his sexuality with them. He mostly disregards Humphrey. See his, “Oh, it’s you.” Mary obviously doesn’t like him and he only associates with her when it might be useful for his ‘missions.’ He clearly doesn’t think much of Thomas and doesn’t really even bother including him in his plans. These aren’t people he’s going to have heart-to-hearts with.

With those constraints in place, here’s a non-exhaustive list of possibilities by which I might see his coming out finally happening. They’re really just scenarios I made for myself on how I might see him coming out and I like to keep my options open (the first three are strategies he might go for, the last is an alternate scenario, presented in decreasing levels of directness on his part):

1) The ‘pull the bandage off quickly and hope it doesn’t sting too much’ strategy.

The Captain waits for the end of one of their various group activities or meetings, where all announcements seem to be made, gets up, clears his throat, stammers a bit, announces it tersely, using the most proper popular word for homosexuality that existed in his time (think: “Heh-hem. Er. Um. Well. It has recently come to my attention that I am- er- well- as it happens- gay. I, uh, thought it should be noted. That is all.”), and then beats a hasty retreat, so he doesn’t have to try to cope with the potentially negative aftermath. Of course, there isn’t a negative aftermath, because many of the ghosts already have guessed and the rest don’t really care. Someone, probably Pat, because he does the bulk of the emotional labor in the group, and more importantly, he’s Cap’s closest friend, would have to go after him. He would of course be initially defensive, and Pat would have to sooth his feathers a bit- or maybe just spit it out over his defensiveness- that he guessed a long time ago and so had plenty of other people, and they were just waiting for him to be ready, and really, it’s fine, and no one’s going to disown him for it.

2) The ‘well maybe I should tell my friends with the hope they support me’ strategy.

He gets together with a small group, the people whose company he actually values, definitely Fanny and Pat, maybe Julian, probably Alison either at the same time or after he finishes with his ghosts pals, and says it in much the same way as the previous scenario, but waiting for their reactions rather than retreating straight away. Pat and Alison, I expect, would answer with something like ‘yeah, we figured that one out a long time ago, actually, and it’s completely fine’ and Julian’s reaction would probably be something like, ‘well, obviously.’ Fanny’s had a lot of character growth since season one, when I expect her reaction would have been very shrill and judgmental, probably still would be a touch less warm and/or nonchalant, but I picture it as something like a sigh, followed by a pat on the arm and something like, ‘well, I still like you better than everyone else here, anyway.’ Word would eventually trickle to everyone else by way of social osmosis. Or not. No one seems to care if Humphrey or the plague ghosts are well informed.

3) The ‘I’m not brave enough to actually go through the process of actually telling anyone anything about me so let’s just drop hints and hope everyone figures it out without making a big deal about it’ strategy.

The indirect approach (I’m rather fond of this one, but mostly because it was my own primary coming out approach)… he first sends out feelers to certain people on the topic of homosexuality, probably Alison, since she’s modern, hosted a lesbian wedding, and very much implied that she’d be ready to keep scandalous secrets for him in Reddy Weddy, and possibly maybe also Julian, as he’s the most sexually experienced/knowledgeable, and after Alison spent a while inundating him with ‘it’s okay to be gay’ messages (along with a sudden and entirely unexplained influx of LGBT media) as she’s socially clever enough to see that’s what he’s looking for and after Julian spent a while telling him probably far more than he ever actually wanted to know about the potentialities of gay sex, that might boost the Captain’s confidence enough to let him start dropping hints to people, instead of telling them outright (consciously commenting on the attractiveness of men they see rather than occasionally accidentally blurting it out- see ‘the handsome one’- occasionally putting forth an opinion or stance on the LGBT world ‘it would have been nice if gay marriage was acceptable when I was alive,’ maybe occasionally mentioning how certain men would make cute couple), expecting them to meet him in the middle and figure out the point on their own… of course, many of them have already realized, so this isn’t a problem. It’s entirely possible, though, that Mary (world view not terribly grounded in reality) and Kitty (lack of life experience and/or instruction about life, see the how are babies made subplot) never pick up the hints on their own and someone else eventually has to tell them.

4) The ‘someone puts him out of his misery’ scenario.

Cap acknowledges to himself that he’s gay first and then, wishing to avoid embarrassment or lack of acceptance, obviously, awkwardly, painfully tries to disguise it and in doing so draws attention to it, until a third party decides to put him out of his misery and tell him that many of them figured it out ages ago and that everyone is fine with it. Maybe Pat. Maybe Alison. I kind of like the idea of it being Fanny (with her lovely character growth and her couple of suspicious glances his way in the Perfect Day), actually, by way of something like ‘You know, I was entirely prepared to continue on living with my husband, George, keeping his secrets, about the, uh, sort of person he was, and you’re at least one better than him, given that you at least never murdered me- or, for that matter, never married some poor woman you had no interest in to shield yourself from scrutiny… and so, what I’m saying is, I wouldn’t turn my back on you for being the, uh, sort of person you are, either, and maybe things have progressed enough that you don’t actually have to keep secrets at all.’ Cap would take all of this in with a mixture of mortification and relief. I’m rather fond of this scenario, too.

As for the second bit of the question, once his sexuality is out there, though, and no one judges him or hates him for it- and some are quite supportive- I do see him becoming more self-accepting. If no one’s judging him, does he need to judge himself so harshly? And also more confident. Because some of those things that he’s always felt different about and in the past has probably been ridiculed about in the past (even if he’s in denial about being gay, he and quite a few other people had to at the very least note that he’s not particularly interested in women), are, apparently just fine now. So he’s a bit more just fine now himself. And that weight of always trying to be someone else, someone who’s just right, can lift and he can relax a bit more. And that would probably help him a lot, too. I see it as a slow sort of thawing process. No matter what way he comes out, I still see Alison as very helpfully providing a variety of LGBT media to help this process along. And maybe he’d eventually get to the point where he processed enough and warmed up enough to be able to talk more in depth, at least with his friends, about what it was like being him in repressed pre-war Britain, and what sort of men he’s attracted to (I enjoy the idea of him and Fanny- gradually overcoming her own repression- scoping out hot men together). Maybe he’ll even luck out one of his male housemates will decide (or has already decided) that bisexuality is a valid option and he’ll get a date (insert whichever ghost y’all ship him with here). I bet Alison would totally help him set up a nice date, too, with her convenient still-functional-in-the-mortal-realm hands. And it would be nice to maybe see him get a taste of actual happiness.

#bbc ghosts #the captain #coming out #sorry for the giant block of text friends #i find it difficult to help myself

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prudencepaccard · 3 years

Text

whenever I post about the same old angers I think of this conversation from two years ago with @injygo which was of the most insightful and revelatory dialogues I’ve ever had about my personal psychology

me: my psychiatrist asked me if I loved myself and I was like "I uh...I think I have a lot to offer...and I don't think I'm worthless...and I don't hate myself like I used to" and she was like "dude that's not good enough"

me: I definitely don't love myself

[note: I think I’m starting to now though]

injygo: <:ghosthug:585698760890515503>

me: like I think I'm talented and interesting but I feel deep down like I must be extremely annoying and unlikable and my voice must be grating and I don't know why anyone actually tolerates me

me: I understand why someone might keep me in their collection of eccentrics but not why anyone would want to spend any significant amount of time with me

[note: in early 2020 I was told by someone whose opinion I valued and whom I had wanted to meet for a long time that « the way I take up space is beautiful » which is one of the most validating things anyone could say to me because I have a complex about taking up space wrong/too much/etc.]

me: this in spite of the fact that I am actually extremely loved

me: I'm not *popular* but I'm not at a lack for devoted friends and family

me: but I'm like "okay surely people will come to their senses though"

injygo: does it help to think about how there's lots of different people in the world with different standards, and so there's not really a single scale of likability?

me: a little maybe

me: anyway my self-compassion is garbage and I knew that

me: I know I'm really harsh on myself and keep letting myself down

me: but I hadn't thought about it in those specific terms till she asked

me: like oh no I don't think I love myself, no

me: my loved ones don't love themselves either

me: I don't hate myself as much as I used to but I'm just extremely rigorous and harsh and impatient

me: I really have very very little compassion for myself at all

me: I don't even feel sorry for myself, usually

[linking thought redacted for interlocutor’s privacy]

me: whereas I tend to double down

me: like "yes so fuck everything, let's stay in bed and not eat"

injygo: you do feel sorry for yourself, but you can't usually "get to" it, if you get my meaning

me: what do you mean by get to it?

injygo: like you tell people stories about shitty things that have happened to you, hoping that something they say will reveal how you can forgive yourself for having been harmed and comfort yourself

injygo: like, you're going "hmm, that feels bad, i bet anyone would feel bad for me and try to comfort me, let's test that out" trying to get a response like "that sucks and shouldn't have happened", not because you deep down want other people to comfort you, but because you deep down want to comfort yourself and don't know how except with other people's words and reactions

me: it's possible

injygo: you stay in situations you hate long after you should, because you don't feel like your preferences matter or that you deserve good things, but you *want* to leave, and can't get to the point of saying "yeah, i shouldn't have to suffer this any longer"

injygo: like you're not a masochist, you're not suicidal, there's not a drive to punish yourself for the sake of punishment, it's just that you don't feel like you have the right to avoid bad things and seek good things, or to be comforted, or to have things be easy for you

me: yeah this is probably true

injygo: so you can easily get trapped in depressive spirals where you don't feel like you deserve to eat, or you don't feel like it matters if you're sad

injygo: but when you feel like you *do* deserve things, you're motivated to pursue them and you get mad at people who get in your way

injygo: which is honestly pretty enviable

me: thanks

me: I'm not 100% sure

>forgive yourself for having been harmed

is apt

me: but the rest is pretty accurate

injygo: yeah, i'm not quite sure what's up with your like, quasi-trauma-processing thing

me: "you shouldn't have to suffer like this" is really, really hard to grok when it's an OCD spiral

me: it feels baked in, like if X then Y

me: >yeah, i'm not quite sure what's up with your like, quasi-trauma-processing thing

elaborate?

me: god I just fucking

injygo: but there's definitely a thing where, uh, it's like if you painted a picture and you thought it was really good, but you can't say to yourself "yep this picture is good" until you've shown it to your friends and they've been like "hey, that's good!"

me: I know something really messed with me but I don't have any idea what's going on

me: I don't model myself as traumatized per se

injygo: like, you don't trust your own judgment about whether something hurt you, whether it was your fault, whether it's okay to feel bad about it

me: I also feel like my suffering doesn't matter because everyone else is worse off and/or deserved it less

me: so these anecdotes keep cropping up to you, because you feel like they're unresolved, but what you actually want, rather than being told that it sucked and shouldn't have happened, is for you to be able to say to yourself that it sucked and shouldn't have happened

me: probably yeah

injygo: you don't trust your ability to tell if the painting is good

me: this is definitely true

me: I'm very insecure like that

me: I undersell and undervalue myself

me: from only charging $40/hr [for one hour/week French tutoring that involved me coming to him from pretty far away and lesson planning and making exercises and where the guy I was tutoring balked at paying me that much and tried to bargain me down to $30 even though he had a ton of money and mentioned taking tennis lessons and how much you wanna bet the tennis instructor was making a whole lot more than $40 an hour]

me: to like

me: going "ugh it's true but why'd you have to say it" if someone calls me ugly

injygo: like this is not the bpd thing where you're constantly seeking validation -- borderlines feel good when they're validated, and it like, satisfies them completely (for a short time) when people are like "i like you and you matter"

injygo: they get "hungry" again, and they have to learn to provide it for themselves, but it's this feeling of desperation like "i will Literally Die if someone doesn't pay attention to me Right Now"

injygo: but with you it's more like, being faced with a door you don't know how to open, a feeling of bafflement and a vague sense that something can be done that isn't being done

injygo: like, you know how a dog acts when they're injured, and they come up to you holding their paw up, asking you to fix it

injygo: but a cat will be like "there is a thing that's wrong! help, human" but you don't know what thing it is, and they keep meowing at you and asking you to fix it, but you can't really figure out what to fix

me: and I'm the cat right

injygo: yeah

injygo: like "i'm pretty sure it shouldn't hurt to jump, but i don't see any way to fix it, so i guess i'll just deal"

me: mood

injygo: you're like "problem?" and people are like "yep, problem" and you're like "oh" and then "problem?" because you need *you* to tell yourself the things

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writings-of-a-daphodil · 3 years

Text

Fire Keeper: Bonus Chapter #1: Halloween

Douxie x fem!reader

Masterlist in bio!

Summary: It's Halloween in the Fire Keeper Universe!

Requested?: Yes! This was inspired by @catuskat666 's request:

Could you do like a fluffy Halloween or like Christmas chapter?

Fandom: Tales of Arcadia

Warnings: Blood, injury, y/n tried to take on a small army of goblins alone.

A/n: It’s weird posting this after Halloween, but oh well. Anyways, this takes place right before Claire and Present Danger(chapter 6) because that's around the time that halloween canonically happens...so yeah. Hope you enjoy it!

It may have been a little cliche for you to be going as a witch for Halloween, but you wanted to so you were. Jim was going in his armor and Toby was going as a robot. The three of you were dressed to impress.

Unfortunately, you weren’t getting dressed up to go trick or treating. Well, you might go, but the main goal of tonight was to keep all the children of Arcadia safe. There had been tons of goblins running amuck recently and even a few demons. It was the Trollhunter teams’ job to take care of it.

“So we’re going to the haunted house?” Toby asked as you strolled through the suburbs.

You nodded. “The goblins have been pretty active by Arcadia Oaks Academy. Blinky said that they’d be drawn to any fear, so it only makes sense they’re gonna check out the haunted house.”

“Are you sure?” Toby asked nervously. “Maybe they’d want some candy instead.”

“We’re not going inside Tobes, we're just gonna check out the area,” Jim soothed.

“And place some more traps,” you added, yawning. You had spent all of the previous night setting up magic traps. They wouldn’t keep the goblins away, but they would capture them.

“What about the other areas?” Toby asked. “It’s not like the goblins and demons are gonna stick to one area tonight.”

“I made sure to put traps there and Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Draal are patrolling the less crowded areas,” you explained as you turned onto the street by the Academy.

There was already a long line of excited people standing in the chilly air outside the school and you could hear screams through some of the open doors and windows.

There were even more people walking through the closed off street from house to house. You knew this was a popular area, but you hadn’t expected this many people. Whenever you, Jim, and Toby went trick or treating before this, you stuck to the less crowded areas.

“We should split up,” Jim suggested and you nodded. Toby immediately walked towards the houses and Jim took the street while you went off towards the school.

You circled the block, trying to look for the less crowded areas that the goblins would try to get in from and eventually you were rewarded. Behind the school one of the manhole covers was gone and a steady stream of goblins was coming out of it. You slinked back into the shadows, pulling out your phone to call Jim and Toby.

Jim arrived first and Toby followed with a full bag of candy. “You ready to take care of these guys?” You asked, your hands already glowing orange.

“Good luck!” Toby called as you and Jim ran into the street. Jim grabbed his sword and the goblins immediately attacked. You blasted a few, but found it was much easier if you just Levitated a bunch of them for Jim to take care of. With that method, it didn’t take long before the goblins had retreated and the street was empty.

You looked at Jim—who like yourself was covered in green goop—and gave him a high five. “Go team!” Toby cheered, setting down the excess rocks he had thrown at the goblins.

“What now?” You asked, taking a piece of candy Toby offered you.

“We need to check and see if any of them got inside the school,” Jim said.

“Wait, go inside the school?” Toby asked, giving the building a wary look.

“You can stay outside and keep investigating. Y/n and I can handle it.”

“No, I’ll go in. I heard the theme this year is witches and since I know an actual witch it shouldn’t be scary,” Toby reasoned.

“That’s the spirit,” you encouraged, getting in line.

“Do you think there’ll be any demons here too?” Toby asked.

“No, demons aren’t that common and I took care of one last night so I think we should be good.”

“We’ll be fine Tobes, we’re just here to take care of some goblins,” Jim soothed as the three of you were ushered inside.

For a while you followed the main hallway that was surprisingly well decorated. There were tons of fake spiderwebs and it was a bit of a struggle getting around them.

“A little help here?” Toby asked as he struggled to crawl under one. Jim pulled him to his feet as you came to a turn.

“Which way?” You asked.

“Right,” Jim said and you led the way into another hallway. This one was much darker and you heard a door slam up ahead, causing Toby to jump. Another door near you opened and you heard a cackle and footsteps behind you before another door slammed. The pattern repeated itself and you smiled at how well thought out this haunted house was.

You went up a set of stairs and you yelped as an actor jumped out in front of you. You were about to continue forward down the main hall when you heard scuffling claws to your left.

“This way,” you called to the guys, hoping they’d be able to follow your voice. The lighting in the hall was done in spot lights and you saw a green blur run through one. A door by the dim spotlight creaked open and you sighed. Goblins were always so dramatic.

You walked through the open door into a classroom with a horde of goblins waiting for you. You moved into the room so Jim and Toby could follow you, but their footsteps never came.

“I guess I’m on my own,” you muttered, getting ready to blast some spells. You hit one and another jumped on your shoulder, yanking your hair. You whimpered, falling backwards into a group of desks. Quickly you levitated the little beast off and blasted it before it hit the ground.

This only angered the goblins more. You were cornered by the teachers desk and you searched for something to use as a weapon.

A goblin leapt out at you and your hand curled around a ruler. You raised it like a sword, whacking the goblin away. Another came your way and you blasted it.

There couldn't be too many left and they must have realized their chances of coming at you alone and winning weren’t so good. You stood up as three goblins advanced on you, all jumping at once. One scratched your face and you cried out, staggering towards the whiteboard. The second one tore your sleeve while the third tried to go for your neck. You reacted slowly, feeling sharp claws cut your skin.

An orange light bloomed from you, creating a shield that forced the goblins off of you. You coughed and tried to catch your breath while they pounded on the bright orange dome protecting you. You did your best to look meek and when the goblins backed away to charge the shield, you dropped it and blasted them.

From there, slowly but surely you took care of the rest of the goblins in the room, making enough noise to wake the dead. You were rather surprised that no one had come to check on all the commotion.

You set the ruler back where you found it and quickly left the room. Now that you were back in the main hallway you decided to retrace your steps and found yourself walking into someone.

“Oh, sorry,” a voice you just so happened to recognize apologized.

“Douxie?” You coughed.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Oh you know, checking out the haunted house with my brother and his friend who I’ve lost.”

“Oh, let me help.” He grabbed your arm. “This is the way out.”

Douxie led you out into a courtyard that opened onto the street. The area had much better lighting and you were glad you could finally see. You looked around for Jim and Toby, but it appeared they hadn’t come out yet.

“Bleeding balroths! Y/n, are you alright?” Douxie asked, staring at your scratches and the blood.

“I, uh, cut myself,” you stated lamely, too tired to give a better explanation.

“You know what, wait here, I’ll get a first aid kit.” Douxie was gone before you could argue and was back in record time.

He took your hand and led you to a bench. You sat down on the cold stone and watched as he got out what he needed.

“May I?” Douxie asked and you nodded. He raised a hand to brush your hair out of your face and kept it there, practically cradling your face as he used an antiseptic wipe.

“Douxie, I’m fine,” you protested, but the cry you let out when he used the wipe to clean a scratch proved otherwise.

“I don’t mind,” Douxie said, throwing away the wipe and getting out a new one. This time, you bit your tounge as Douxie cleaned the deeper cuts on your neck.

His eyes filled with pity and you knew he felt bad about the pain you were feeling. “Do you need a ride home?” He asked.

“I need to find my brother, but thank you.”

“I’ll help you find him when I’m done,” Douxie promised, getting a bandaid out.

“Thanks Douxie, it means a lot.”

“Glad I could be of help,” Douxie said, smoothing the bandaid above your eye. “There, all better.”

He helped you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your waist when you swayed. You hadn’t moved far though when Jim and Toby burst out of the exit, covered in fresh green goop.

“Y/n/n? What happened?” Jim asked, taking you from Douxie.

“I cut myself,” you repeated.

“I did my best to help, but those ones on her neck look bad, maybe you should see a doctor,” Douxie suggested and Jim nodded.

Your brother moved to help you out of the courtyard, but you turned to Douxie. “Thanks.”

He gave you a charming smile. “Any time.”

****

Here ya go, it's the first bonus chapter!! I hope y'all enjoyed reading this and have a fantastic day/night and stay safe!!

P.S. I am open to requests!!!!!

P.P.S. If you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

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nomazee · 4 years

Text

scatterbrain

bokuto koutarou x reader

word count: 2200+

content: fluff, friends-to-lovers, pining bokuto, ooc bokuto.

(i’m in such a bokuto mood rn so i wrote this!! i did NOT expect this to get this long but oops!!

bokuto is probably,,,VERY ooc in this but this is really just self-indulgent fluff!! hope you enjoy! <3)

(also!!! quick reminder!! my requests are open!! my request rules can be found linked in my navigation which is my pinned post!! feel free to request <3)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

contrary to popular belief, bokuto thinks. he thinks a lot. granted, a lot of his thoughts are devoid of any deep meaning, like the possibility of taming a wild owl and keeping it as a pet, or the question of whether he should get two or three meat buns after practice.

bokuto thinks a lot. he knows this. his mind gets very cluttered sometimes with various random topics. that’s why when his mind started becoming a cohesive conversation of one solid topic, something was wrong. very wrong.

he started thinking about you. a lot.

when he first realized it, he figured he should look into it--find out what caused him to have his mind flooded with thoughts of you, your smile, your eyes, your hair, your hands, your voice and nose and lips--

then he realized that he already knew very well why he thought of you so often.

almost comically, he smiled to himself and thought, “well, i guess that’s that!” and resolved to never approach the subject again. confident as he could be on the court, bokuto was sure that if he ever tried to take action about his feelings, the result was sure to be disastrous. it was best to stay away from any fantasies of his.

that was hard to do, though, when you seemed to occupy both his thoughts and his day-to-day life.

you were in the same class--that was just his luck--and while you weren’t an official manager you had a tendency to stop by practice and watch the boys play while chatting with yukie and kaori until it was time to go home.

(he also often walked you to the train stop. fate really made the stars align when he didn't want them to align.)

though, he had to owe it to fate for allowing your seats to be on separate sides of class. at the very least, he had that relief from the constant pressure he applied on himself absentmindedly whenever he was in your presence.

during lunch, bokuto sped out of the classroom door and in a direction away from the cafeteria. you seemed to notice this quite quickly and darted to chase after him.

bokuto felt a warm, firm hand on his shoulder and the distant scent of peppermint. he cursed himself for not walking fast enough and wondered if he could jump up with enough fervor to break through the ceiling.

“hey,” you were smiling at him as you sidled up next to him. he was thankful he had your real expression right in front of him--the gentle image in his mind was fading by the minute and he appreciated the refresher. “where’re you going? i thought we were still eating lunch together?”

right. lunch. eating. food. the empty feeling in bokuto’s stomach reminded him of the fact he’d skipped breakfast after thinking so hard about his feelings and what to do with them that too much time slipped away to let him eat something properly.

“oh, yeah!” he forced a smile--”forced” wasn’t really the right term though, because with you everything flowed so naturally and so easily that he never had to force himself to do something.

“i was actually planning on practicing a bit instead of going to the cafeteria.” your expression fell the slightest bit and he scolded himself internally for being the cause of even the mildest discomfort of yours. “i’m really sorry for not telling you! really sorry! i should’ve texted you or something. i’m sorry! but i’ll make it up to you if--”

“bo!” your lightened expression was back and he, cheesily, melted at the sight. “it’s fine! i’m not angry at you. well, at least not for that. i’m just worried that you’re not eating lunch.”

uh oh. his stomach didn’t feel that great. it felt like there were a bunch of wild, frantic insects in there that pushed and pulled at the tissue in an attempt to get out. he thought he needed to vomit.

it was nice that you were worrying about him. you did that a lot. the reminder only made him feel lightheaded and briefly convinced that maybe it wasn’t a crush and actually just a really bad, persistent stomach flu that only flared up in the presence of the girl of his dreams.

he spoke through a smile that he hadn’t even noticed appeared on his face so brightly. “it’s really sweet that you’re worried.” his words were hazy and lovestruck. midway through the interaction he stopped putting so much effort in hiding his adoration for you. he figured maybe you’d appreciate it one way or another, even if it was just to make fun of him in your head. “but i’m fine! no worries! i’ll make sure to eat when i get home, promise.”

you gave him a nod, “promise,” and a quick wave and then you were off to the cafeteria. to eat lunch. would you be alone? when you both ate lunch together you didn’t really hang out with anyone else--as much as bokuto’s teammates offered to let you sit at their table, you were both perfectly content with just sitting in the presence of each other, alone.

dreamily, his grin persisted on his face and his eyes grew glittery and unfocused before his lips dropped at another realization.

you’d be alone. would you feel lonely? would you be mad at him for making you feel that way?

he made it to the gym already by the time he realized that. maybe this time alone would let him settle his fluttering heart and compose himself so he could be conditioned to tolerate your presence more often without drifting away into a bunch of domestic daydreams.

a sick feeling in his stomach persisted all through his spiking practice. it was less pleasant than before. his body temperature grew both from unease and the physical exertion caused by extra practice.

maybe he really was sick. in one way or another.

---

you showed up to the gym fifteen minutes into bokuto’s practice. the boys were still slowly getting ready, so you took the time to approach bokuto and hand him a small and weighty paper bag.

“meat buns,” you told him, extending the package in his directions. “it’s not good to skip meals just to practice. you still have to eat!” despite the scolding tone, your face remained playful and taut in a smile. bokuto wondered if your cheeks every became sore from grinning all the time. as much as he didn’t want you in pain, he was willing to give you all the face massages you wanted as long as it kept you smiling at him so often. did face massages exist? were they a thing? he’d study the art of massage for you and develop a technique, whatever was necessary.

“y… yeah…!” he responded dumbly. his was certain his face was unhealthily red as his body instinctively moved to wrap you in his arms.

hugs were typical between you two. it wouldn’t be weird, right? oh well. too late to think about it, since you were already embraced in the warmth of his arms.

“are you alright?” your voice came out muffled and gentle from the depths of his embrace and his heart fluttered at the way your voice rumbled through his chest. “you feel kinda warm.”

he was warm? he thought you were way warmer than him. though maybe he meant that in a less physical sense. he couldn’t tell the difference anymore--not with you.

“yeah, just kind of tired.” before he could ridicule himself at the fact that tired had no correlation to having a full-body flush, he continued to reassure you, “but i’m fine! i’ll make sure to take care of myself.”

he felt your smile appear against the fabric of his shirt and wondered if it was weird that he was willing to die in that position.

after a moment of relaxing in each other’s grasps (and ignoring the distant gossip of his teammates), bokuto pulled back with a grin, a nod, and the longing to press a kiss against your forehead.

practice was good. it felt easier than it had been last week, though he probably owed that to the visit you paid him in the afternoon. he came to the conclusion that running from you just to “figure out his feelings” was stupid. he knew what he felt. he didn’t have a single clue what to do about it specifically, but thought that was fine. it felt good to be around you--he’d be stupid to let opportunities to spend time with you pass him by.

---

apparently you sat with akaashi the day before, when bokuto was away from the cafeteria during lunch. he figured that out when he went to sit at your usual table only to find you accompanied by his setter.

“bo! hey!” you greeted, pausing the ongoing conversation with akaashi. “i forgot to tell you, but akaashi’s sitting with us today. he sat with me yesterday so i just figured the three of us could start eating lunch together.”

bokuto didn’t really think much of it. if anything, he was thankful that akaashi had kept you company and alleviated the ace of some of his lingering guilt from the day before.

he had no qualms with having the duo become a trio for the period, and found himself enjoying the conversation floating between all of you.

well. sort of. he didn’t really get to talk much with how exuberant you seemed to be with akaashi. it was nice to see you so happy and active with his friend, and the sight of your smile was enough to distract him from the unpleasant simmering of his stomach acid.

for the most part. he had to excuse himself to the bathroom in the middle of class to splash cold water on his face and try to subdue the uncomfortable heat that was certainly not reminiscent of his previous warming adoration for you.

despite how many times he urged you to go home early, you assured bokuto that you were fine with staying for his practice the whole time, ending your defense with a, “i really wanted to walk with you today!” and a smile that made him fall into your unintentional trap.

true to your word, you walked to the train station with bokuto, boarding the same train. conversation was light and typical, but his leg kept bouncing and heart urged for him to say something before everything imploded under the pressure of his emotions.

“are you dating akaashi?” great going, bokuto thought, the most discreet, subtle thing i could’ve possibly asked.

you blinked, and turned your gaze from your phone screen to him. you huffed out a lighthearted laugh and nudged your elbow into his ribs playfully. “of course not. we only really started talking yesterday. i wouldn’t date someone i barely know.”

bokuto’s mind went on overdrive, the news coming as a deep relief for him and making him ignore the blaring reminders of potential consequences that flashed bright and red in his head. his mouth spilled words before he could logically think of what to say and figured letting his heart guide, as always, wouldn’t be a terrible choice.

“so you’d date someone you do know? a lot? like a friend?”

once again, his words weren’t discreet in the slightest, but he had tunnel vision pointed in your direction, covering you in a sheer golden light like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment--because you were. no need for detailed thought processes or pros and cons lists that he’d briefly considered making (“that’s what professionals do, right?”).

your smile persisted, and he took that as a good enough sign to continue with his mindless stammering.

though your voice interrupted his next outward train of thought, and he listened with the focus of a child watching a television screen.

“what about this saturday? at noon? at that sweet little cafe near my house?”

bokuto blinked. processed your words with an intensity unmatched, even compared to those times he had to write those stupid DBQs and analyze sources that were way too complicated for him to handle very well.

you words were much easier for him to understand than college-level essays. much lighter, much sweeter, like agave syrup and orange zest.

“yeah. this saturday. that’s… great.”

bokuto wondered if it was possible to develop sudden onset asthma as you slid closer to his form, side pressed up against his in a way that felt much more meaningful than any casual touches from before. he lost his breath--felt like he dropped it--as you gave him a smile and let your hand casually fall against his.

(he walked you all the way home, which he didn’t usually do, but today wasn’t really usual. you asked if you could kiss him, and in a fit of overwhelming emotions he blurted out “i thought i was supposed to do that?!” only for his words to be muffled by your lips on his. bokuto’s mind went silent for the first time in a long time, only filled with a gentle buzz and glimmering stars that made him feel warm and dizzy.)

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lavenderek · 3 years

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So you're saying you don't think "underage" fic is gross. Is that what youre saying?

well, no. yuck. what i’m saying is, what exactly and specifically do we want to happen?

there should not be explicit fic about underage characters, got it. so what age can they not be under? 18? 16? what country’s laws regarding the age of consent do we prioritize? like, i think it’s gross that the age of consent is 16 in some places, but i’m an american, so i would, wouldn’t i? so ok, what if we hedged it a bit and put the age as like, 14? that way it’s not little kids, it’s all teenagers. but no, gross, 14-year-olds are children. fun fact: so are 16-year-olds. they are also children.

what about fic about two teenagers having a consensual encounter? should all romantic or sexual fic have to be about adults only? your answer to this may very well be “yes,” and that’s completely valid. a teenager writing fic might disagree. somebody who’s a big fan of a show that’s about a bunch of teenagers might disagree. should there be an adults-only section on the site? there’s already a “stop, you have to be 18″ box to check before you can access explicit fic, so how do we verify a user’s age? they can just lie about their age and click through anyway. you have to be 18 to make a youtube account and i’ve had one since i was 13. i remember very deliberately choosing a new birth year when it asked for my birthdate.

then you get to slightly greyer areas like large age gaps, or heavy role play between consenting adults. i have absolutely witnessed fic that’s clearly written to be CP, but it’s tagged as age play. so like, for all intents and purposes this is CP, but if you roll in like “hey, this is fucked up,” they can be like, “oh, so you read this picturing actual children, sicko?? you have a problem with two adults doing shit in the bedroom??? how dare you!!! don’t like don’t read!!!”

it’s kind of like on porn sites, how they make like nasty inc*st stuff but call it “stepmom” or whatever, like oh, they’re not actually related! sure, joseph, thanks for covering all your bases

so we can’t ban kinks. or can we? should we limit depictions of serious addictions or domestic abuse too? torture, or even body horror? these are generally accepted to be dark content.

i’m not trying to engage in whataboutism, i’m naming actual, relevant questions about shit that’s disturbing in real life (no offense to kink people who follow codes of consent and conduct) and can be incredibly upsetting to encounter online. shit that i can’t imagine wanting to read, let alone write.

these are the questions that we, you, i, people pro-a*3 and people anti-a*3, are all asking, and not a single one of us can or should answer them unilaterally.

so it’s like, oh, okay, so there should be no oversight at all? should there be no rules? no, obviously, that would be horrible, i don’t trust any of these fuckers to conduct themselves civilly. so there should be some rules, but not too many rules. that’s what we have now, and clearly the way things are now isn’t working because a lot of users are reasonably very upset.

should there be a voting system, and rules are set by a popular vote? should certain words be flagged and you can’t post the fic with that word in it? should there be a thing where when you post a fic, you have to select the ages of each character and that’s listed at the top of the fic? what if they age during the fic? should there be a flagging function, where you report someone for not using sufficient tags? users will find workarounds for all of this. you know they will. so mods will have to be very specific about the rules and introduce, like, a vetting system for it. which is a lot more manpower and a lot more chances for subjective judgments.

all of the above is why it operates on a tagging system instead. i’m gonna be real, i only go on a*3 to read comments on my own shit lmao, and even when i did go on there more often i never went in the tags searching for fic. so is there a blacklist function? is there a flagging function?

if there is a flagging function, maybe they make it so that if the flagged user has violated the rules, their account is suspended and their fic made private for the duration and until they add necessary tags.

cool, a compromise. but uh-oh, it turns out Mod A agrees that this fic is n*ncon, but Mod B thinks it’s just vague, not n*nconsensual, and doesn’t feel comfortable banning the fic. or it turns out User didn’t post anything flaggable, they were reported by somebody who is targeting them for some reason, or by someone who is more stringent about n*ncon than somebody else would be, like, it’s gotta be enthusiastic and verbal consent or else it’s skirting the edges too much.

it’s like, we’ve already witnessed censorship (please take this word usage gently, i know it’s touchy but it’s the word to use here) being a problem here on tumblr with their stupid nipple ban. there’s a double standard regarding whose nipples are explicit and whose are kosher for public consumption. people have to appeal their shit getting flagged and sometimes nothing gets fixed regardless. i’m sure other people are pleased that there’s less of a chance of them accidentally scrolling past a picture of a hard dick at work.

so you get it, this is a problem that’s more complicated than “all of x should be banned and if you post it there’s something wrong with you,” a belief you’re more than entitled to hold but can’t base, like, fanfic legislation off of. you get it you get it.

you get it, but like, what is the fucking deal with those “fandom moms” who go off on soliloquies about the days of old or whatever the fuck whenever this topic comes up? what about the weirdos who are like, “what’s next, banning gay fic????” yeah, if we allow gay marriage you can marry a tree, that’s how it works, thanks tiffany.

but no, the reason they do this is NOT that they think lgbtq content is comparable in any way to CP. the reason they do this is that this exact problem has taken place on every site that has ever hosted fic. and many previous sites did think lgbtq content was comparable to CP. it was categorized as adult content and hidden.

that’s why a*3 exists in the first place. it was to avoid godmodding and absolutism. it’s supposed to be more or less self-governed. i don’t want there to be CP on a*3 any more than you do, but i also don’t trust randos to decide what is and isn’t acceptable content. this topic is not new.

i’m in support of stronger government regulation in real life because it can be argued that certain actions and systems violate human rights. everybody deserves food and shelter, for example. the same can’t be argued in this case because some creep writing CP doesn’t violate my rights. i find it offensive and i don’t think they should be writing it, but my right to click the back button is intact. there is no institution making it impossible or even difficult for me to not read fanfiction. the creep could just as reasonably argue that their right to post what they want is being affected.

why is this response so long? is it because i can’t shut up? yes, but also because this is a complex issue and that’s why nobody has taken significant action on it.

people are also big mad.

i’ve never understood this impulse to see somebody not doing a thing you want them to do and assume it’s out of malice or incompetence, anyway. i don’t know anybody who volunteers for a*3 but it’s my assumption that given the choice to have us all pissed at them, or have us all not pissed at them, they would choose to have us not be pissed at them. it just seems like the reasonable reaction to have. and like, i’d be pretty shocked to part the kimono and find out they’re all CP-loving gargoyles and a*3 actually stands for A lot Of child abus3. that is the reason i have not been like, “fuck a*3.” because what are they supposed to do, you know?

there’s no simple or inarguably morally right solution here. the princess is in another castle. just post fic on tumblr, i guess? make another hosting site that’s exactly like a*3 but romantic characters can only be like, 21?

i actually think the legal age in the US should be raised to 21, not joking. your brain literally and biologically isn’t finished developing at 18. teenagers lack the world experience to make decisions that adults make.

somewhere there is an 18-year-old or a person who moved out and became self sufficient at 18 who hates this sentiment. there’s a teenager in an abusive home who would be intensely demoralized by the prospect of having to remain beholden to these people for three more years.

and there’s a parent who is relieved to know that their kid can’t be preyed on by army recruiters for three more years. there’s a person who got into a car crash with a teenager who misjudged whether or not they could make a turn who’s like, yeah, she could probably have benefited from a few more years.

nothing is as simple as it should be. i agree with you, but i’m not willing to pass blanket judgments with regards to actions that should be taken. and honestly, given how little i actually go on the site, i don’t even have a dog in this fight. so all my opinions on it are moot anyway.

(side note, if you are in an abusive home and you can’t make your own bank account, or if your bank account is monitored by your abusive parents, maybe try venmo? you can get a debit card that pulls directly from your venmo balance. a surprising number of places accept venmo payments, and this way you can save up money in secret.)

anyway uhhhhh seeya

#who is this even #haters #long post #please DO NOT REBLOG

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clovis-enthusiast · 4 years

Text

Lotsa Clovis headcanons that you can pry from my cold dead hands

Keep in mind that these are just MY HEADCANONS! None of this is canon unless specifically stated! Feel free to agree or disagree. I juts rlly love my boy and his cabin and will gush about them for hours if given the chance.

Since there is a lot, I’ll put them under the cut so as not to clutter ur feed with my rambling! So uh click ‘keep reading’ to see me babble about my all time favorite character! Hope u enjoy if u read em and always feel free to send me a message about ur own headcanons! (I’m always thinking of more, so this post might be updated every once in awhile!)

He is very French. He was born in France and lived there for a short while before he and his mother (the reason I say mother instead of parent is because it was hinted at in canon that he has a mother. my go to name for her is Camille) moved to the US due to monster related problems. (He has a French last name. Something like Valois is my go to.)

French is his first language but because he moved to the US when he was quite young, he is very fluent in English. He often switches between the two languages when he’s EXTRA sleepy without noticing leading to a lot of confusion (and you can bet that he DEFINITELY swears in French because not many people at camp can understand him when he does. Those who do have a newfound respect and fear for him.)

He was initially a longtime member of the Hermes cabin even though pretty much everyone could guess who his godly parent was.

Was DEFINITELY a part of Luke’s army at one point due to the fact that he looked up to Luke as the older demigod had always treated him like a little brother, AND his godly brother Morpheus was also on Kronos’s side of the war. However, Clovis did not stay with them for long once things began to get bad and returned to Camp Half Blood with time. (Morpheus and Clovis now have a strained relationship.)

Best friends with Lou Ellen Blackstone of the Hecate cabin. They were both temporarily on Luke’s side of the war and were held with suspicion and distrust when they returned to camp, so they tended to stick by each other while the other campers warmed back up to them. Because of this, they are now very close and are always goofing around (much to the annoyance of the other head counselors aside from the Stolls, of course.)

Definitely had a thing for Nico di Angelo in the past. As the two boys are both the sons of underworld gods, Clovis had already felt a certain tug towards him. When he heard Nico’s story from the camp’s rumor mill (thank Lacy and Mitchell for that one) he became utterly infatuated. Over time, his curiosity turned more into a little crush which then became a BIG crush, but as neither Clovis nor Nico are really all that great with normal human interaction, the son of Hypnos’s flirting techniques sort of went unnoticed. That’s why Nico seems to be the only one being pulled into Clovis’s dreams at any given time despite Clovis being a ‘very strong dreamer.’ The truth is that Clovis has full control over who enters HIS dreamscapes. He tries desperately to impress Nico and help him out wherever he can, but when Nico eventually chooses Will to be his boyfriend, Clovis, though a bit sad that his first crush in a long time didn’t share the feelings, is VERY supportive. He loves to tease Nico about how hopelessly head-over-heels the broody teenager is over his sunshiney boyfriend. And if the two were ever to break up for whatever reason in the future? Well, Clovis is definitely still up for a shot.

Clovis and Nico are still VERY close. Clovis is one of the only people that Nico feels comfortable enough to be himself around and often confides in him whenever his negative thinking gets the best of him. Clovis also plays a big part in Nico regaining the memories of his past when he’s ready which he will forever be thankful for. The two obviously spend a lot of time together in dreams and greet one another in a warm fashion whenever they come across each other by chance at camp. This confuses literally everyone because literally no one has ever seen them interact before?? How are they friends??

Has HISTORY with Drew. No one is really sure what kind of history (it seems as if there was a little bit of memory erasure throughout the camp on the situation... hm...) but most people speculate that the two shared a romantic relation at one point in time. Turns out, they were NOT compatible, and the whole thing went up in flames. Drew still holds a huge grudge against Clovis who acts as though he could honestly care less. He still treats her politely though there have definitely been some not-so-subtle nasty looks cast across the campfire towards her direction before.

Also very close with Lacy and Mitchell from the Aphrodite cabin. Lacy feels terrible about Drew’s trash-talking and rumor-spreading and eventually works up the courage to say hi. They became fast friends, and Lacy definitely has a bit of a puppy-dog crush on him, but she is much too young for Clovis. He sees her as a little sister and allows her to put makeup on him, do his hair, and even tries on dresses and such just to make her smile. Mitchell, on the other hand, became friends with Clovis out of spite in all honesty and ended up liking the sleepy blond a lot more than he thought he would. He might have a teeeeeny tiiiiiny crush on him. Don’t tell Lacy.

Close with Pollux of the Dionysus cabin. Pollux sees a lot of Castor when he looks at Clovis which is a huge comfort to him. The two counselors have a lot of deep talks late at night, and Clovis always makes sure that Pollux is sleeping well without being haunted by nightmares. Dionysus would never admit it, but he is very thankful that someone cares that much about his only son.

Good friends with Rachel Elizabeth Dare surprisingly! He helps her out often, and the two like to sit and chat about mythology, artwork, and prophecies in the big house and at the campfire.

Has allies and friends in high places. Due to his powerful dreaming, he’s been to quite a few strange places and met quite a few strange people... or you could call them the gods, I guess. He knows a lot of the gods and goddesses from all kinds of mythologies (though obviously more of the Greek ones than anything) and they seem to like him well enough for some reason. (Probably because he’s one of the only demigods who doesn’t want to strangle them and doesn’t mind listening to them complain about petty godly things.) He often has little chats with them where he keeps them updated with the going ons of Camp Half Blood and they keep him updated about... godly drama. He kinda lives for it tbh. It’s part of the reason why he’s so informed about the gods.(Annabeth is maybe just the tiniest bit jealous.)

He’s a year round camper because it would be much too dangerous for him to go back to living with his mother. He stays in contact with her via dreams, letters, and Iris messages though!

MUCH more powerful than he lets on. He just doesn’t like conflict.

One of his most frightening abilities is the ability to summon terrible creatures from people’s nightmares and use them to fight. He doesn’t like to do this as it can be very traumatizing for the people he uses it against, AND it’s not always a guarantee that the nightmare creatures will obey him.

His other more battle-ready powers are the ability to put an entire battle field into a deep slumber and memory alteration/erasure. He can use his memory alteration/erasure on monsters of weaker defenses AND demigods (though he feels much more comfortable using it on monsters.) He uses these powers to alter how monsters/enemies perceive demigods. Because of this, there are quite a few friendly hellhounds and scythian dracanae wandering about the camp. All of his powers are VERY draining and take a lot of concentration in order to work as intended. He will often sleep for days after a battle because of this.

He is also capable of fighting whilst asleep. In fact, his senses are heightened, and he tends to perform better this way. He also heals much faster while he is asleep.

It is speculated that he will either grow wings from his head or his back, but it will not happen until he grows older. It’s a rare trait that few Hypnos kids (and Thanatos kids) develop, but due to Clovis’s power level, everyone is pretty much waiting for it to happen.

He can change his appearance at will in his dreams, but his aura is still the same, so he can still be identified pretty easily by people who know him personally. (As a side note, his eyes pretty much change color on their own to reflect the mood of the dreamscape he’s currently in. Gold, emerald, and violet are the most common colors. His true eye color is blue.)

Doesn’t really care about gender all that much. He has absolutely no problem with people referring to him using any pronouns (she/he/they) and is quite comfortable with himself in general. Many demigods who are questioning their gender comes to talk to him about it, and he’s always open to hearing them out and giving them advice.

VERY bisexual. Likes girls, guys, literally anyone who can keep him awake and interested for more than five seconds.

The unofficial official camp therapist.The role used to belong to Will Solace, but the truth is that the son of Apollo is much more comfortable dealing with physical ailments and problems he can fix medically than he is with dealing with feelings and mental ailments. Clovis is a very good listener despite the popular belief that he’s too busy nodding off to actually hold a conversation with properly and has a very calming aura that helps people feel safe enough to be vulnerable with him.

The go to babysitter of camp. Due to his Hypnos kid vibes, he is able to keep even the most rambunctious demigod and satyr children under control. His nap times are legendary.

VERY big on respecting people’s privacy and boundaries. He tries his best not to enter any dreams uninvited, and he never talks about what goes on in people’s dreams ever. He also NEVER looks into people’s memories without their permission. He makes sure his siblings follow these guidelines strictly.

He literally lets anyone come into the Hypnos cabin at any time to get a good rest. The cabin has an open door policy.

New campers are often allowed to stay with the Hypnos cabin if they’d rather not face the chaos of the Hermes cabin.

Contrary to popular belief, his cabin is actually NOT the messiest cabin. The Hermes cabin wins that one though they’re followed closely by the Ares and Hephaestus cabins.

He and his siblings are some of the closest in the camp. They meet up and hang out in each other’s dreamscapes and have family nights. Clovis is the oldest AND is a head counselor, so he is very protective and responsible when it comes to his siblings.

Gives AMAZING massages. Leo and the entirety of the Hephaestus and Ares cabins are regular customers. Fight me.

Actually a very good strategist when it comes to battles and such given that he’s awake enough to actually communicate his ideas. If you get them on your Capture the Team game, you’re already doing good. Annabeth and the Athena cabin love the competition, and they’re nearly unstoppable when they work together with him.

Clovis suffers from TERRIBLE narcolepsy, even for a son of Hypnos. It’s gotten him into a lot of bad and dangerous situations such as falling asleep mid battle, mid conversation, and even in the bath once when he was little. He has developed a fear of heights and water due to his condition.

Holds a lot of frustrations towards himself. Frustrated that he ever turned against the camp that offered him a home, frustrated that he couldn’t help Jason restore his memories, frustrated that couldn’t help more in the war against Gaea, just... frustrated. He tries to sleep off these negative moods because he doesn’t like to bring people down.

Absolutely not opposed to cuddling with people who are okay with it (he always asks first!) It’s a surefire way to get a good night’s rest since you’re so close to him, plus he’s very soft and warm!

Has a good singing voice, but just isn’t confident enough with it. He pushes through his insecurities to sing lullabies to those who really need them though. His lullabies are unmatched.

Adores cats with all of his heart due to their lazy and relaxed nature, but he knows that he could never be able to care for one well enough.

ALWAYS wears pajamas. Like all the time. Chiron has given up on enforcing the dress code. He also made sure to have custom made camp bracelets instead of necklaces to be sure that none of the Hypnos kids are choked/strangled by them if they happen to fall asleep in a bad place or position.

Lives in the past. Old movies, old music, old slang, you name it. I mean, he practically sleeps for the majority of his life, so it’s not all that surprising that he’s a bit behind the times. He thinks the modern age moves much too fast for him to keep up with.

The demigods of camp take turns making sure Clovis and his siblings are taking care of themselves. Walking them to the showers and dining pavilion, making sure they get a little sunlight each day, and the bare minimum of training.

He is the best boy.That is the only FACT that I do not accept criticism on. Thank you.

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terreisa · 4 years

Text

The Perfect Gift

Emma Swan has gotten away with trading out her pick for Secret Santa for three years. When she’s finally forced to keep the first name she pulls from the Santa hat it happens to be Killian Jones, the one person in the office that irritates her to no end. She makes it her mission to find him a perfect gift and ends up discovering there’s more to the office Casanova than she’d ever suspected.

AO3

~*~CS~*~

“You’ve gotta be shitting me. Let me pick again!”

Emma Swan groaned as her friend and co-worker Mary Margaret twisted at the waist so the Santa hat in her hands was well out of her reach.

“No. I’ve let you, and only you by the way, re-pick for the past three years,” Mary Margaret said pointedly, raising her brow at her. “It’s not fair to the others who actually follow the rules of Secret Santa.”

“Rules you came up with,” Emma grumbled, scowling down at the name on the slip of paper in her hands.

“It can’t be that bad-” Mary Margaret sighed, “Zelena was transferred and Walsh was fired so there’s really no one truly terrible participating this year.”

“I think I’d prefer them over the one I did get. Forget the fact that I can’t stand him, I don’t know what the hell to get him!”

“Who-” Mary Margaret began before her eyes widened and a pleased smile unfurled on her face, “You know exactly what he wants and it won’t even cost you twenty-five dollars.”

“Mary Margaret!” Emma hissed, embarrassed and shocked that her normally prim and proper friend went straight for an innuendo. “Gross.”

“Oh, come on, it’s no secret that Killian has had a crush on you from the moment he stepped foot in this office.”

Emma rolled her eyes at the familiar and franky ridiculous refrain. Killian Jones was a well known film critic from England that had been hired two years before in an effort by the higher ups to expand their newspaper’s readership. When he had walked in on his first day, with artfully tousled inky black hair, ocean blue eyes glittering with excitement, and tailored clothes that showed off a trim and toned physique, nearly every single woman in the office had attempted to help him set up his desk. Emma, on the other hand, had appreciated the new eye candy and then returned her attention to the article she had been working on at the time.

She figured that it was her indifference that had Killian asking her later that day if she’d wanted to get coffee with him. Of course, after watching him flirt and banter with all the helpful women in the office all morning she’d given him a withering look and a resounding no. She’d been burned badly before by interoffice dating and she wasn’t looking for a repeat performance, let alone dealing with a no shame lothario. He had merely given her a puzzled smile and wished her a good day before retreating to his desk. What followed was a year of watching him pull the same tricks with every available woman in the building while still brushing him off every few weeks. As glad as she was that she hadn’t fallen for any of his pretenses there was an annoying stab of something in her gut whenever he walked someone new out the door with his hand low on their back.

Things had only taken a turn for the worse when Emma had been promoted to a full time writing position in the entertainment section. While she’d been vying for a byline in that section for years she almost turned it down knowing she’d have to work almost daily near the man that had become the bane of her existence. There had been an intervention from Mary Margaret, her husband David, and her roommate Belle to convince her to take the position. Even her own boss Tink, editor of the home and garden section, had had to sit her down and talk sense into her. She’d emerged from her office an hour later, cheeks burning with the praise Tink had heaped on her and ears ringing with the passionate arguments she’d made in her favor. By the end of the week she’d moved her things to a desk across the office, one that was unfortunately situated next to Killian’s.

From the moment she’d unpacked her admittedly meager personal belongings Killian had seemed to take it upon himself to get on her last nerve. He was constantly leaning over to ask her inane questions about her day or bore her with random bits of trivia he collected like a magpie with shiny things. Though, she had to admit, it broke up the monotony of trying to think of a new way to write a review for a show that had jumped the shark three seasons before. She also couldn’t find it in her to really complain about the perfectly made cup of coffee that was always annoyingly waiting for her when she was running late, which happened to be almost every day. What really got on her nerves, however, was that his movie reviews were insightful, hilarious, respectful even when he hated the movie, and aligned with her own opinions so perfectly that she’d wondered more than once if he could read her mind.

Of course, everyone in the office saw all of that as tantamount to Killian having feelings for her. Worst of all they saw her laughing at something he said, or drinking the coffee he made, hell even talking civilly with him as her returning those non-existent feelings. When it was really that she just found it easier to go along with his ridiculousness than to wear herself out actively loathing him. She truly couldn’t stand him but no one else seemed to believe her.

“It’s not a crush,” she refuted though there was no heat behind it because she knew Mary Margaret wouldn’t believe her.

“Sure, uh-huh,” Mary Margaret singsonged with a grin. She walked backwards away from her, still grinning, “Twenty-five dollars and we’re doing the exchange at the holiday party. Good luck!”

Emma stuck her tongue out at Mary Margaret as she pivoted on her heel and made her way to the advice column's and editorial’s small cluster of desks. She sighed, slightly glad she’d been cornered in the breakroom instead of at her desk where Killian would have definitely overheard something she didn’t need him to. Then again she wouldn’t have had to once again brush of Mary Margaret’s ridiculous ideas of crushes and might have even stood a chance at getting to repick a name. With a groan of frustration she grabbed her now lukewarm mug of coffee and a random loose granola bar and headed back to her own desk, already mulling over and rejecting ideas for what to get Killian.

Twenty minutes and a thorough search of Killian’s almost too neat desk later and she was still at a loss. She was fiddling with a paperclip to open the locked bottom drawer but knew she had already pushed her luck, time wise. Killian and Robin, the editor of the sports section, always went out for lunch on Wednesdays and were always back in the office by ten till one. Glancing at her watch she saw she had less than five minutes to jimmy the lock, dig through the drawer’s contents, get everything back in order, and be sitting innocently back at her desk. Gritting her teeth in frustration she stood, tossing the half straightened paperclip onto her desk as she looked over the personal effects on his desk once more.

There were a couple framed photos: one was of him and another dark haired, blue eyed man, brother she figured from the resemblance; another was of a woman in soft focus with dark auburn hair that was curled to eighties perfection, his mother probably though Emma could only guess why he chose that photo to put up; the third and final frame wasn’t a photo but his review for the movie The Village, clipped from a newspaper and yellowed with age. Aside from the frames there were only a few knick knacks: a small replica ship’s compass, a Rubick’s cube she’d seen him fiddle with when he was on the phone or stuck on wording for an article, and a potted plant she didn’t know the name of that he had somehow kept alive in their nearly windowless office. The only thing that seemed to give her any real insight was a thick, well worn paperback. She didn’t recognize the author’s name but the title rang a bell and having no other leads she resigned herself to jotting both down on a Post-It as a starting point.

“Interested in the works of Edwin Stephens?”

Emma jumped at the sound of Killian’s voice next to her. She breathed a sigh of relief that she’d sat at her own desk to write the name down before realizing she had to come up with a reason for doing it.

“Uh, looking for present ideas-” she winced at her own stupidity, rushing on hoping he wouldn’t catch on to her, “For David. Mary Margaret’s husband? He’s a big reader. Of everything. Hard to get him something he hasn’t read yet, you know? Thought I’d check if he had any of this Stephens guy’s books the next time I go over for dinner.”

Killian chuckled, settling into his chair, “He might, Stephens isn’t particularly popular but now that his work is finally getting the quality adaptations it deserves more people are starting to read his books.”

“So he’s your favorite author then?” She teased, delighting in the tips of his ears going pink.

“Since I was twelve and a neighbor let me borrow Absolute Bearing. I was a bit young to be reading it but I loved it. Didn’t actually give it back to the neighbor, now that I think about it,” he hummed thoughtfully before shrugging and picking up the book on his desk. “If Mary Margaret’s husband doesn’t have Siege Perilous then it’s the one to get. It’s considered to be one of Stephens’ best, and not only by me I’ll have you know. It’s also going to be a limited series on HBO next fall.”

“Really? ‘Cause it kinda looks like you don’t like it at all,” she deadpanned, eyeing the well bent spine and slight discoloration of the pages.

He rolled his eyes at her, “Ha, bloody, ha, Swan. I’ll have you know this is the third copy I’ve had to buy since I keep rereading it until it falls apart in my hands.”

Surprised by his utter sincerity she burst into laughter. He grinned widely at her, absently thumbing at the pages of the book. As her chuckles subsided she realized that she’d never actually initiated a conversation with Killian, let alone one where she joked around with him. Suddenly feeling awkward she dropped her gaze to the note she’d written herself and tried to ignore the way she saw his shoulders slump out of the corner of her eye.

“Siege Perilous,” she muttered, carefully adding the title to her note just so she’d have something to do. She peeled off the Post-It and stuck it to her monitor, “Got it.”

“He should enjoy it-” she looked at him, confused for a moment until he clarified, “David. Don’t let the nautical themes put you off.”

“Right, thanks.”

She gave him a fleeting smile before turning back to her desk and made a show of throwing herself into her work. Nevermind that she’d already finished her assignment for the week. Cursing to herself she opened a new document and began typing nonsense until the feeling of him watching her subsided. She was highly annoyed when at the end of the day that all she’d accomplished was a page full of ridiculous phrases and the tiniest sliver of insight into the man she had to buy a gift for.

A week later she was no closer to narrowing down from over a dozen options. She knew she was way overthinking it and that if she asked Mary Margaret or Robin she’d have a gift purchased by the end of the day. Yet, somehow, she felt like that was cheating. It had become a challenge almost, the urge to crack the code to get her sworn enemy the perfect gift. Though, since their conversation about Edwin Stephens she’d let her guard down and had a few more surprising talks with Killian about the things they liked to do on their downtime. Which is how Emma found herself arguing with him over the best place to get pizza.

“Are you kidding? Their crust is garbage! The only good thing about that place is the sauce.”

“The sauce makes the pie, love,” he said vehemently. “Just because you prefer a paper thin crust doesn’t mean that every other option should automatically be disqualified in your book.”

She rolled her eyes, “Fine, I’ll give you that, I guess, but they don’t even deliver. Not even Postmates! How are they still in business when they’re missing out on all those potential customers?”

“Ah, so the truth emerges!” Killian said smugly as he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at her, “You probably don’t venture to eat anywhere that doesn’t have the option of showing up at your front door. Think of all the delicacies you’re missing out on, Swan!”

“I eat at places that don’t deliver. There’s a great Dominican place that’s a whole twenty minutes away from my apartment and I go there at least three times a month,” she shot back before realizing she’d revealed a part of her life she hadn’t meant to. She scrambled to keep him from thinking too deeply over it, “Besides you can’t say that Angelo’s is the best when you haven’t even tried Pizza on Fourth.”

“With such an uninspired name how can their fare be any good?” He scoffed. Then he hesitated, looking at her consideringly, “How about we put it to a test?”

“Meaning?” She asked warily.

“Do you have plans for lunch or vehement standards about eating the same thing twice in a day?” He asked, matching her wariness.

She blinked at him, “You want to see whose pizza place is better?”

“It’s the only way to know for sure,” he answered seriously, though she could see the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“For scientific purposes or bragging rights?”

“Bragging rights, of course,” he said with a wink.

Ignoring the small flutter in her stomach she pretended to mull it over, “Will there be a medal? A trophy perhaps?”

“How about a free lunch?”

“Deal!”

He chuckled, “Since Angelo’s is closer shall we get Pizza on Fourth delivered for lunch, then we can walk over to Angelo’s after work?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said happily, already opening the app to order. “Should we go with the classic pepperoni at both to keep it fair?”

“I like the way you think, love, and add on a round of garlic knots to really spice up the competition. Just let me know when you need my card.”

“Uh-huh,” she murmured, busy tapping away at the ordering options.

Later that night, with a lot of hedging and dragging her feet she admitted that Angelo’s was the better pizza. What she couldn’t seem to admit, even to herself, was that she’d had fun hanging out with Killian outside of work. She also toyed with and then dismissed the idea of getting him a giftcard to Pizza on Fourth just for the petty satisfaction.

Four days before Christmas and two before the company party Emma found herself wearily scrolling through article after article on Buzzfeed for any kind of inspiration for a gift. She felt as though she’d had a hundred ideas but none of them felt right. It didn’t help that every time her and Killian hung out that a dozen new options for a gift presented themselves.

“I don’t think he’d want a Tub Shroom, no matter how many people have given it five stars on Amazon.”

Emma groaned at the sound of Mary Margaret’s voice, dropping her forehead to her desk. She felt a gentle commiserating pat on her shoulder and rolled her head to look up at her.

“He’s impossible to shop for,” she whined. “Is it too late to switch with someone?”

“He is not and yes it is,” Mary Margaret tsked. “Unlike you everyone else doesn’t wait until the last minute to buy something.”

“It’s not the last minute. I still have two days,” she grumbled, pushing herself up only to slump down in her chair.

Mary Margaret frowned, “Which is not enough time for Amazon to send something. You’re making this harder than it has to be, especially if you hate the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” she mumbled, barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“I said-” she sighed and prepared herself for a torrent of ‘I told you so’s’ and squeals, “I don’t hate him. He’s actually a good guy.”

Mary Margaret smiled widely but surprised Emma by remaining calm, “Then it should be even easier to find something. Right?”

“That’s just it!” She huffed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “There’s too many options now that I’ve actually gotten to know him. I should just buy him the best bottle of rum twenty-five bucks can buy and be done with it.”

“Then why don’t you do that?” Mary Margaret asked puzzled, though her smile was still too wide for Emma’s liking.

“It’s so…” she cast about for the right word and nearly let out a frustrated growl when none came to her. “Generic, boring, thoughtless? I don’t know but I can do better.”

Mary Margaret laughed, “It’s not a competition. He’ll appreciate whatever you get him. Probably even more so now that you’re friends.”

Emma opened her mouth to refute the claim but found that she couldn’t. Since their impromptu pizza competition they’d gone to several more restaurants under the guise of deciding who had the better taste. Even more than that they’d also gone out for after work drinks a few times, talking about nothing and everything, and once she’d gone with him to a critics screening of a movie she’d been looking forward to seeing for months. That he’d been just as excited to see it and they’d spent hours dissecting it afterward at a twenty-four hour diner down the street from the theater only drove home the fact that he was, for lack of a better term, her friend. She tried to push down the sudden feeling of disappointment she felt at that.

“Ooo, Siege Perilous? Isn’t that the set you get to visit next month?”

Mary Margaret’s voice dragged her back to the discussion at hand. She nodded absently, “Yeah, they start filming after the holidays and it’s the only time they’re allowing reporters on set.”

“Lucky, David wouldn’t let me read anything else until I gave it a chance. I was annoyed at first but it’s really good. You should read it too, get ready for that set visit.”

“I should,” she said slowly, staring thoughtfully at the Post-It she hadn’t thought about since she’d stuck it to her monitor. An idea started to form in her mind and with it a realization. She looked up at Mary Margaret, “It’s totally a crush isn’t it?”

Mary Margaret’s smile somehow grew wider, “For him? Or for you?”

Emma surprised them both by smiling herself, “Is it okay if I skip out on our lunch? I’ll make it up to you.”

“Totally fine,” Mary Margaret said, waving her off. “I think I’ll go out to eat with Tink, she owes me.”

She barely paid attention as Mary Margaret left, already distracted by figuring out what she needed to do and how little time she had to do it.

Two days later, when Emma arrived at the restaurant that was hosting their company party it was already in full swing. She snuck Killian’s present onto the table that held the other gifts before weaving through her coworkers to get to the bar. When she got there she was pleased to see Killian already there, chatting with the bartender.

“Gonna buy me a drink, Jones?” she asked as she sidled up next to him and grinned.

“It’s an open bar, Swan, so I’d be delighted to,” he said with a grin of his own. Then his eyes widened and she watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, “You look-”

“I know,” she said demurely, pleased that her blush pink dress had made the impression she was going for. She turned to the bartender and ordered a glass of wine, conscious of his gaze lingering on her. When she was handed her glass she turned back to see him still staring at her, “I know I probably already asked this but you’re not flying home for Christmas?”

“Uh, no-” he blinked, shaking his head slightly. It seemed to clear his thoughts and he gave her a shrug, “Never had a place there to truly call home if I’m honest. I tend to fly wherever my brother Liam is stationed at the time but seeing as he’s doing the whole first holiday with his girlfriend and her parents I figured I’d stick it out here this year. It’ll just be me and a yet undecided Netflix marathon to celebrate. What about you, off to visit your own family tomorrow?”

“Oh, I, uh,” she stuttered, caught off guard by the suspicion that his past seemed to mirror hers. She took a sip of wine to fortify herself, “I don’t have a, uh, family. I usually sleep in and then watch Die Hard before going to Mary Margaret’s house for the day. Nothing too exciting.”

She took another sip of wine to cover what was sure to be an awkward moment between them. Killian was watching her with a look she couldn’t understand, not saying a word. Finally after a few seconds that felt like lifetimes she glared back.

“What?”

“Sorry, love,” he said sheepishly, a blush blooming in his cheeks. “It’s just… sometimes you’re quite the open book but then you’ll do or say something that surprises me. I never would have guessed- well, I knew there was something but I didn’t want to pry and it didn’t occur to me-”

“Killian-” she interrupted, grabbing his arm to stop his rambling. “It’s okay, you can say ‘orphan’. It’s not like you’re breaking a story I don’t already know.”

He let out a tense laugh, nervously scratching behind his ear, “Perhaps I didn’t want to say it because I loathe the moniker myself. Schoolyard taunts will do that to a lad.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She had gone through most of her life not having much in common with people because of how she had grown up without parents or even a stable home. It was almost ironic that she had been so determined to dislike Killian when he had more in common with her than she ever could have expected. A hiccuping laugh escaped her as she realized just how much she had grown to like him over the weeks since she’d drawn his name from Mary Margaret’s Santa hat.

“I propose a toast,” she said with a wide grin, lifting her glass, “To a couple of orphans not letting a little thing like that get us down.”

Killian gave her a soft smile, raising his glass to hers and tapping them together lightly, “To a couple of orphans.”

They drank, though neither of them took their eyes off of each other. Emma felt the warmth from the wine spreading down to her toes, though she could have also blamed the look in Killian’s eyes with having something to do with it. Just as she was about to comment on it and possibly ruining whatever it was that was growing between them the music that had been playing in the background cut out and Mary Margaret was calling for their attention.

“Merry Christmas everybody!” She chirped merrily. David was at her side with two wrapped presents in his hands, “It’s time to hand out the Secret Santa gifts so when you hear your name come on up!”

Emma felt a thrill of anticipation zip across her stomach. She turned towards Killian with what she hoped was a calm demeanor only to find that he was still looking at her with a gentle smile, not even paying attention to the names Mary Margaret was calling out.

“Not looking forward to your gift?” She prodded, worried that he’d already figured out that she was his Secret Santa.

“Oh, I’ve never signed up,” he said, giving a fleeting glance towards Mary Margaret before looking back at her. “The past couple years I was flying to England and missing this lovely party. By the time I had my plans settled for this year it was far too late to sign up.”

“Emma Swan.”

Emma stared at him uncomprehendingly. She knew she had pulled his name, for one it wasn’t like anyone else in their office had the name Killian even though Jones was pretty common and for another she’d stared at the slip of paper for at least an hour when she’d gotten home the night she’d drawn it, willing it to be any name other than his. The only logical explanation was that he’d signed up and forgotten.

“Emma Swan?”

Killian’s gaze darted away and then back to her, “Er, Swan?”

“You forgot,” she blurted out. “You signed up and forgot. Right?”

“No,” he said slowly. “You know how tenacious Mary Margaret is about making sure everyone remembers their gift. I’ve never done it and still know what a terror she can be.”

With a dawning horror she realized exactly how much of a terror Mary Margaret could be.

“Has anyone seen Emma?”

Killian tilted his head towards the front of the room, “I believe you’ve been summoned for your own gift, love.”

“Yep,” she ground out, narrowing her gaze at Mary Margaret who was scanning the crowd for her. With extreme care she set down her wine glass, afraid she would shatter it in her anger, “Just going to go get my gift now.”

Wasting no time she stormed to the front of the room, pushing past everyone and ignoring their grumbles in her wake. Mary Margaret beamed when she caught sight of her but it quickly turned sheepish as Emma got closer. By the time Emma made it to her she was already whispering a rushed explanation.

“-sorry but you would barely give him the time of day and he’s really a great guy. I figured if you had to get him a gift you’d get to know him and see that he’s not actually terrible. And it worked! You’re friends now.”

Emma felt her anger leave her in a rush at Mary Margaret’s sincerity and the ridiculous lengths she’d gone to. It helped that she was right, even though Emma would never admit it to her.

“What if I had just bought him a Starbucks gift card and been done with it?” She asked with feigned annoyance, wanting to know just how invested Mary Margaret was in her scheme.

Mary Magaret scoffed, “I knew you wouldn’t do that. You complained about him too much to get him something that boring. I knew you’d use your gift as a way to prove something.”

She gaped at her, surprised by the confidence she’d had in her plan. Then a thought occurred to her, “You wouldn’t let me repick because every name in that hat was his wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Mary Margaret grinned. “And don’t worry about someone else getting left out. I kept your name out of the main draw to keep things even.”

“Then how do I have a present?” She asked, bewildered.

“Santa works in mysterious ways,” Mary Margaret said cryptically, still grinning like a fool. She plucked a green bag, its handles tied together with a length of red ribbon, from the table, “Here you go.”

Emma took it in one hand and held out the other, “Can I at least give Killian his gift myself? I don’t want him making a big deal about how he didn’t sign up and embarrassing us both.”

“Can’t-” Mary Margaret frowned dramatically, though her eyes were alight with mischief, “I sent David to give it to him when I first called your name.”

Sure enough, when Emma looked back at Killian he was trying to keep David from handing him the present Emma had brought. Giving Mary Margaret a withering look she hightailed it back to the bar before anyone else’s attention was grabbed by the escalating argument between the two men. She arrived as David pushed the wrapped box into Killian’s hands.

“Just take the present, man. It’s got your name on it so it has to be yours.”

“And I’m telling you there’s a mistake, mate,” Killian bit out, refusing to hold onto the box. “I didn’t participate in Secret Santa.”

“I got it David,” she broke in, grabbing the gift and stepping between them. “Tell Mary Margaret she still owes me answers.”

David looked at her apologetically, “I really tried to talk her out of it.”

“And yet you’re still her accomplice,” she pointed out. David gave her the same sheepish grin his wife had and she shook her head at him, “You’re both getting coal for Christmas.”

“Bah humbug,” David said cheerfully before giving her a hug and disappearing in the crowd.

“So that charming gentleman is Mary Margaret’s husband?” Killian intoned bemused behind her.

“The one and only,” she said, thinking about how she could cheerfully strangle the couple with tinsel for all their scheming. She placed both his and her presents on the bar and faced him, “They’ve been together since their freshman year of college and are really bad influences on each other. I sometimes have to remind myself that David’s a cop when he gets caught up in one of Mary Margaret’s grand plans.”

Killian’s eyes went wide, “Oh? And what was her grand plan tonight?”

“Well, it looks like you getting a present would be part of it,” she hedged, not ready for him to hear Mary Margaret’s true motivation.

“So it would seem,” he said thoughtfully, tracing the gift tag on his present with his finger. Then he frowned and pushed her gift towards her, “You should do the honors first, love, since you were actually expecting a gift.”

“Yeah?” She asked, relieved that she could put off an explanation for a few more minutes and highly curious what Mary Margaret’s Santa comment meant.

Killian nodded and said softly, “Go ahead, Swan.”

The tag attached to the ribbon gave her no clues since it was a square of paper with her name printed on it and aside from the ribbon holding the bag closed there were no other adornments. The ribbon was tied in a simple bow and with a gentle tug it came undone. When she pulled out her gift she couldn’t help but laugh at the copy of Siege Perilous in her hand.

“Mary Margaret was in a tither in the breakroom last week,” Killian murmured, keeping his gaze on the book when she looked up at him, “She was going on about how the person who had picked your name had quit unexpectedly and that she needed to find someone to replace them. I volunteered, of course.”

“Of course?” She breathed.

He gave her a lopsided smile, “It’s no secret that I quite fancy you when you’re not yelling at me.”

She felt the warmth of a blush in her cheeks and dropped her gaze to the book, running her hand over the cover, “Why get me this, though?”

“You were so skittish when we first talked about it and when you kept the note on your monitor I realized you never intended it as a gift for David. I overheard you telling Mary Margaret that you would be visiting the set of the new show but felt guilty about never having read the book. It seemed to me that getting you the book was rather fitting on all accounts.”

Looking back up at him she felt a swooping in her stomach as her eyes met his. He was still smiling at her but she could sense his nervousness at her reaction to his gift and his confession in the way he shifted his weight from foot to foot and scratched behind his ear. It was his nervousness that gave her the courage she needed to lay her own feelings on the line.

“It’s your turn to open your present,” she stated, nudging the wrapped box with her new book.

He looked askance at it, “It has to be a mistake and I don’t want to open a gift intended for someone else.”

“It’s part of Mary Margaret’s plan, remember? So you should open it,” she encouraged.

“Fine,” Killian sighed, picking up the wrapped box, “But I’d feel better about it if I knew what her plan was. Though you seem to have it all figured out.”

Emma kept quiet wanting to explain everything once he’d opened his gift. He waited for a moment, watching her, before shaking his head and focusing on picking at the tape holding the wrapping paper together. She bit her tongue at his fastidiousness, glad that she hadn’t used more than a few pieces of tape for the whole thing. Finally he pulled the paper off, without a single tear, and opened the box only to go absolutely still as he stared down at the present inside. Glancing up at her with a perplexed look he reached into the box and pulled out the hardback copy of Siege Perilous she’d luckily found at the small bookstore near their office.

“I know the one you have now probably has a few read throughs left before it completely falls apart but I figured you’d want a pristine copy for next month.”

“You bought me-” his gaze darted from hers to the book and back, his confusion easy to see, “Why would you- no, wait, what’s happening next month?”

“Mary Margaret thought that I wasn’t giving you a fair chance, which I wasn’t,” she started, ignoring his last question for the moment, knowing that she had to explain the whys first. “It was mostly me judging you off of my first impression of you and what I’d seen when you first got hired and not by actually taking the time to know you.”

“What was your impression of me, Swan? It must have been not very favorable for you to not have warmed up to me until recently.”

"I, uh,-" she felt herself flush and she only grew warmer in her embarrassment when he noticed and leaned closer. Rolling her eyes she huffed, "To be fair you flirt with everyone and there were a lot of women you left the office with when you first got hired."

"Were you… were you jealous, Swan?" He asked incredulously.

“No, not jealous.” she contested hotly. “I thought you were making the rounds and I’d been cheated on by my last boyfriend with our former editor. I didn’t need to be a notch in someone else’s belt and I really didn’t want to be the focus of office drama again.”

Killian’s demeanor fell but she saw no pity in his gaze, “Oh, Swan, I didn’t know.”

“It is what it is,” she said with a shrug, “The gossip had finally stopped by the time you were hired and I wasn’t going to bring it all back up again with someone I thought was the same type of guy. Though I know now I was completely wrong about that.”

“You truly didn't know, Emma?” He asked so softly she could barely hear him over the music that had started back up.

“Know what?”

He grabbed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles as he held her gaze, soft and sincere, “You saw me chatting and going places with those women because I didn’t know a soul when I first moved here. I never led them on or asked for anything more than camaraderie while I got settled because it’s only ever been you.

"I first saw you by chance, you walked by in the background in my last Skype interview and I was smitten. Of course when I was hired and you rebuffed me while others were clamoring for my attention I was intrigued. Then we became desk neighbors and I got to know you, one small piece at a time, and I fell. For you. And then with these past few weeks of going for meals and drinks, talking for hours with you I began to think, even hope, that perhaps you might be beginning to feel the same.”

As much as she’d had an idea that he liked her, as well as been told numerous times by multiple people, hearing him say it out loud was like hearing it for the first time. In a way it was because there was a small part of her that couldn’t believe it wasn’t another conjecture of the office rumor mill. She felt her cheeks begin to ache and realized she had been grinning at him like a fool but had yet to address how she actually felt about him.

“I was really annoyed when I picked your name-” Killian winced and tried to take his hand from hers but she held fast, “and Mary Margaret wouldn’t let me switch and now I know it’s because she rigged it so it was only your name in the hat. So I was stuck with having to get you a present and practically knowing nothing about you. When we talked about Stephens I realized that it was the first time we’d had a whole conversation. Then we just kept talking and you were nothing like I’d believed you were and I liked spending time with you. Really liked spending time with you.

“The thing was I kept telling myself that I was only hanging out with you because I needed to figure out what gift to get you and it was impossible. I wanted to get you a perfect gift, something that was thoughtful and that you’d really appreciate. When I complained to Mary Margaret about it I realized why I wanted my gift to be perfect.”

“And why was that, love?” He asked hopefully.

“Because I fell,” she said simply. “For You.”

Killian beamed at her before swooping down to capture her lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss. She sighed into him, reveling in the warmth of him encompassing her as his arms wrapped around her. All too soon for her liking he pulled back, resting his forehead on hers with his eyes closed.

“One more thing,” she whispered, playing with the soft hair at the back of his head.

His eyes opened and he leaned back, looking at her quizzically, “What’s that, love?”

She grinned at the pet name she’d practically ignored before, “How good of a photographer are you?”

“Fair enough to keep things in focus. Why?”

“Because the other part of your gift is that you’re going to pretend to be one of our photographers so you can come to the Siege Perilous set visit with me. Edwin Stephens will be there too and I thought you’d like to get an autogra-”

Emma squealed as Killian picked her up and twirled her around. When he finally set her down she paid no mind to the stares that they’d surely attracted and pulled him into a kiss far more passionate than the one he’d given her.

Much later, after they’d allowed Mary Margaret a moment of smug elation and left the party to a couple of whistles courtesy of Tink and Robin they were laying in her bed, sweatpant clad legs entwined. Killian was running his fingers through her hair as she laid curled against his chest, listening to the rumble of his voice as he read Siege Perilous to her. With a contented sigh she figured that maybe Mary Margaret didn't quite deserve that lump of coal she'd threatened her with.

#captain swan #cs ff #captain swan ff #cs christmas #ouat ff #captain swan christmas ff #cs christmas ff #my writing #a little present for you lovely readers

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massivedrickhead · 5 years

Text

Okay ffs I’ve been trying to add a “read more” line to my latest drabble because it’s long as shit but it isn’t working and I can’t just leave it there taking up everyone’s dashboard space because everyone will hate me.

So I deleted the ask and reposted it as a text post.

Please give this is a read I’m very tired and I’ve been working on this all night.

The prompt was: Just breathe / It’ll be over soon combo from the angst list pretty please?

Here it is ->

------

One month before

The girl was a dead weight in Chloe’s arms as she pulled her out of the sea and onto the sand. Being a trained lifeguard, this wasn’t the first time Chloe had had to rescue someone, but she never got used to the weight.

She moved quickly backwards up the wet, cold sand and finally got the unconscious girl above the tide line.

Wet, dark brown hair was plastered to her face and Chloe swept it out of the way so she could check her over. Her heart sank when she realised the girl wasn’t breathing and had no pulse.

Chloe started CPR without hesitation, the girls lips cold against her own.

She had been intrigued by the girl when she spotted her on the beach a few hours before. She’d been in a wet suit and had an old surf board next to her, but she’d made no move to head into the sea. The area was popular with surfers but because it was a colder day the beach was quieter, and Chloe had been surprised the girl didn’t use this to her advantage. Eventually the girl had made her way into the sea to the line-up, but that seemed to have sapped all the energy out of her. Chloe had watched as the girl sat on her board, forcing herself to take deep and steadying breaths, before she slid sideways off her board and didn’t reappear.

Chloe’s arms were aching as she carried on performing CPR. She began to feel a rising sense of panic. The longer the girl was down, the more oxygen deprived her brain was becoming, and the less likely it would be that she would recover.

“Come on,” Chloe muttered through gritted teeth. “Come on.” She could feel tears stinging her eyes.

And then the girl gave a cough and splutter. She coughed up a large amount of sea water, and opened her eyes, looking confused and afraid.

Chloe rolled her onto her side and rubbed her back while she got the rest of the water up.

Her chest wheezed and rattled as she sucked air into her lungs.

“Just breathe,” Chloe said, feeling relieved. “You’re okay, just breathe. We’re gonna call an ambulance and get you to hospital-”

“No,” the girl choked out. “Please. No ambulance. No hospital.”

“I’ve… I’ve got to. You have to go to the hospital. You weren’t breathing. Your heart literally stopped. There are also loads of complications that can happen after near-drowning-” Chloe rambled on before the girl cut her off again.

“Stop,” she said, coughing. “Jeez. I’ll go just… No ambulance.” She coughed again. “I can drive myself.” Her teeth were chattering and her lips were practically blue. There was also something strange about the look in her eyes. It was almost like anger.

“No,” Chloe said. “If you aren’t taking an ambulance then I’ll drive you. I can’t just let you wander off after you basically died. Do you have clothes with you?”

The girl groaned but didn’t argue. “Fine. And yes, they’re in my car. If you wait here-”

“So you can drive off? Nope. We’re getting some blankets and towels from the lifeguard station and then we can go get your stuff from your car,” Chloe said. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Beca,” the girl said, shivering violently as a gust of wind swept across the beach.

“I’m Chloe,” she said, standing and helping the girl to her feet. “Let’s get you warm, okay?”

Rather than argue, the girl nodded. She looked pale and exhausted and her legs looked like they were going to buckle with every step.

Back at the lifeguard station Chloe wrapped a foil blanket around Beca’s shoulders and grabbed a couple of towels. As Beca got her keys out of a locker, Chloe changed out of her wet shorts and t-shirt and through on a hoody.

“Ready?” Chloe asked. Beca nodded again and they made their way to her car. “Here.” Chloe handed her a towel and turned her back so Beca could change and dry off. “Is there anyone you want me to call for you?” Chloe asked as Beca zipped up a hoody and locked her car.

She shook her head. “How long can you park here for?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Once you’ve been checked out I can drive you back to your car,” Chloe said.

Beca shook her head slightly but the corners of her mouth twitched, threatening a smile.

Chloe cranked the heat in her car, worried about the way Beca was still shivering and coughing.

“Thank you by the way,” Beca said, her head resting on the passenger side window. “For saving me. I… I might have acted like a bit of a jerk.”

Chloe glanced over at her as she drove them to the hospital. “That’s okay. You were scared. People act like jerks when they’re scared.” Beca laughed and the sound made Chloe smile, even if it was followed by a coughing fit. “What happened anyway? One minute you were sitting there and then you just… fell.”

Beca shifted in her seat. “Don’t really remember,” she said. “I’m a bit more out of shape than the last time I surfed. I guess I just passed out or something.”

“You aren’t out of shape,” Chloe said, causing Beca to snort in disbelief. “Okay, maybe you look a bit like death right now, but I’m sure that’s because you almost died.”

Beca shook her head, smiling. “Is your bedside manner always this good?”

“I’m a lifeguard, I don’t need a bedside manner. I just need to look hot when I run in slow-motion.”

“I’m sure you do,” Beca said, laughing.

When they got to the hospital Chloe had to help Beca out of the car and support her as they walked inside as didn’t seem able to hold herself up. When they reached the entrance, Beca groaned.

“What is it?” Chloe asked.

“Nothing, just-”

“Rebecca Mitchell!” A loud voice rang out. “What the fuck?!”

“Hello Dr. Conrad,” Beca said, clinging to Chloe as she limped into the hospital. Her voice seemed to be getting more and more drained.

“Friend of yours?” Chloe asked, confused at the way this tall brunette doctor was glaring at Beca.

“Doctor of mine,” Beca said.

“Where have you been?! I go to check on you and your bed is empty and your shoes are gone! Everyone is searching the hospital and grounds for you!”

“Relax, Stacie,” Beca said. “I just went surfing.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?” The doctor called Stacie said, her voice now quiet and terrifying. “You went surfing? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

Chloe’s eyebrows furrowed as she glanced between the two. Sure surfing was dangerous, but this seemed like an overreaction.

“Oh my god,” Beca groaned, rolling her eyes. “I’m fine, okay?”

“Then why is a lifeguard half carrying you to the hospital?” Stacie turned her gaze to Chloe. “What happened?”

“Uhh…” Chloe looked at Beca who seemed resigned to getting chewed out. “Well…” Stacie raised her eyebrows.

“Well?”

“I pulled her out of the sea unconscious and not breathing,” Chloe said, with an apologetic look at Beca.

Stacie pushed her fingers into her eyes and started quietly counting to ten.

“She’s dramatic,” Beca muttered.

“Rebecca Mitchell,” Stacie said, very quietly. “I am going to kill you.”

“That’s not really necessary is it?” Beca said, smirking.

“Do not test me,” Stacie said, pointing at her. She grabbed a nearby wheelchair. “Sit. Now.”

“I can walk,” Beca grumbled.

“I’m not trying to take sides here,” Chloe said, causing both women to shoot a glance at her. “Uh… It’s just I’m literally supporting all of your weight right now. You should sit down before you collapse.” She turned to Stacie. “She had no pulse and wasn’t breathing from about five to ten minutes.”

“Nark,” Beca muttered, sitting down on the chair and coughing again.

“And she’s been coughing like that since I brought her back,” Chloe said.

“She’s been coughing like that for about about a year,” Stacie said, not taking her eyes off Beca. “What were you thinking?” Her voice had softened considerably.

“I just wanted to see the sea again,” Beca said, eyes downcast. “I wanted to be outside and away from this place.”

Chloe had a horrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

She hadn’t met Beca before today, and it wasn’t as if they’d even hit it off, but Chloe was feeling sick at this dawning realisation.

“Thank you for bringing her in,” Stacie said, putting her hands on the handles of the wheelchair.

“Yeah, thanks for saving my ass,” Beca mumbled, giving her a small smile. “I don’t think I’ll be back to the beach anytime soon, but if you find yourself on ward 17 hit me up.”

And to Beca’s surprise, Chloe did.

She arrived the next afternoon, finding Beca lying in a hospital bed with a drip attached to her arm. She looked miserable but not quite as close to death as she’d looked the previous day.

“Dude, what are you doing here?” Beca asked, surprised.

“I was in the neighbourhood,” Chloe said with a shrug. “Are you allowed visitors?”

“Uh, sure?” Beca said, still confused.

“Do you want a visitor?”

“I guess?”

“Awes,” Chloe said with a grin. She sat down in the chair beside Beca’s bed. “What are you in for?”

“Man you don’t do small talk do you?” Beca said with a nervous laugh. Chloe shook her head. “I’m sick.”

“Well duh.”

Beca laughed. “Okay. Really sick. Like, uh, been in hospital the past few months sick. Like they’ve tried every treatment they can throw at me and I’m still really fucking sick.”

“Oh,” Chloe said, her smile dropping. “Shit. I’m sorry, Beca.”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Me too.”

Three weeks before

“Any sevens?”

“Go fish.”

“Rude. I’m not allowed in the sea anymore,” Beca said, picking up a card from the pile.

“You don’t have to go in the sea to fish, dummy,” Chloe replied, looking through her own cards.

“Your bedside manner is appalling.”

Chloe had been to visit Beca almost every day, whenever she wasn’t working. They usually just played cards and talked about nothing serious. Sometimes Beca would show Chloe mixes she’d made on her laptop. Sometimes she’d be too sick to talk so she would sleep while Chloe would read.

Beca wasn’t sure why Chloe was visiting her, but she couldn’t say that it wasn’t nice to finally have some company. And Chloe was fun, and kind, and funny. And didn’t make Beca feel like she was broken. Or dying.

Chloe couldn’t say why she was visiting Beca, but she enjoyed her company as much as Beca enjoyed hers. She wished they’d been able to meet under different circumstances.

One night after Beca had fallen asleep and Chloe was leaving her room, Stacie approached her.

“Can I have a word?” Stacie asked quietly.

Chloe nodded and they walked away from Beca’s room, down the hospital corridor.

“Look, I feel like I should give you a heads up,” Stacie said. “I don’t know how much Beca’s told you but… Well… Basically she’s, uh, she’s not getting better. She’s… She’s not going to get better.”

Chloe felt her heart drop into her stomach. “She’s… right… shit.”

“I think it’s really cool that you’ve been visiting her, I know it’s definitely improved her mental state. But you should know that she doesn’t have a huge amount of time left. You should… you should prepare yourself for that,” Stacie said, and Chloe was surprised to see tears in the doctor’s eyes.

Chloe swallowed, feeling them burn her own eyes. “She doesn’t have anyone else, does she?”

“No,” Stacie said, sadly. “Her Mom died when she was a kid and her dad is nowhere to be found. As for friends, they came in the beginning but I think it got a little too real for them. I’ve been trying to be there for her, we’ve grown kinda close since she got sick. But, you know, I’m her doctor. There's only so much of a relationship we can have.”

“Right,” Chloe said. “Thank you for telling me this. But I can’t leave her on her own.”

Two weeks before

“Cool badge,” Beca mumbled.

Chloe’s eyes shot up from her book. Beca had been asleep when she got there, so she’d just taken a seat beside her and waited for her to wake up. This wasn’t uncommon, and Beca seemed to find comfort in having someone there when she woke up. Chloe didn’t mind, it meant she had a quiet place to read and she could be there just… Just in case.

Chloe looked down at the pink, purple and blue badge that was pinned to her jacket.

“Thanks,” Chloe said, brightly.

“It’s the bi flag, right?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said.

“So you’re…”

“Bi? It’d be weird if I was wearing the badge and I wasn’t,” Chloe said with a wink.

“Shut up,” Beca said, laughing and coughing. She was quiet for a few minutes. “I am too.”

“You are?”

Beca nodded. “Never really told anyone before.”

“Well, thank you for telling me,” Chloe said, smiling.

Beca stayed quiet again, thinking. “Have you ever kissed a girl?” She blurted out.

“A couple,” Chloe said. “Have you?”

Beca shook her head.

“How old are you?” Chloe asked.

“Twenty-two,” Beca said, a little embarrassed.

“Well, don’t worry about it. There’s still time,” she said, full of optimism. Beca raised her eyebrows and Chloe’s face burned red as she realised what she’d said. “Shit. Sorry. My brain and mouth don’t always connect.”

“It’s okay,” Beca said, laughing. “I’d like to though. One of the things on my bucket list I didn’t get to tick off. Along with visit every Six Flags and swim in the sea during sunset.”

Chloe looked at her. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m taking you to Six Flags, duh.”

Beca closed her eyes hesitantly.

Chloe kissed her.

Beca’s lips were chapped and warm and she tasted like the grapes she was always eating. Beca kissed her back, cupping Chloe’s face with her hands. Chloe’s lips were soft and she tasted like the sea.

"Holy shit,” Beca whispered when they broke apart.

Chloe surprised them both when her eyes filled with tears.

“Dude… Was I that bad?”

“No,” Chloe said, half laughing, half crying. “Sorry. I just… I really like you.”

“Oh,” Beca said. “I like you too. Why else would I let you hang out here and eat all my grapes?”

Chloe laughed again. “I mean I… I like like you.”

“But you didn’t even know I liked girls?”

“Sweetie, your phone background is a picture of Emily Blunt and you wear a different flannel shirt every day. I had a hunch,” Chloe said.

“Fuck off,” Beca said shoving her away, laughing. “I was gonna say that I like liked you too but now I think you’re the worst.”

One week before

“I’m dying, you know that right?” Beca said one afternoon. It had been a particularly bad few days. Her breathing had gotten so bad she had to wear an oxygen mask because the cannula she’d been wearing wasn’t giving her enough oxygen. Beca was tired and irritable and miserable with constant headaches and no appetite.

“Everybody’s dying,” Chloe said, trying to ignore the free-fall of her stomach.

“Fuck’s sake,” Beca muttered, rolling her eyes.

“What?”

“I’m trying to have an actual conversation and you keep making jokes,” she said.

“Sorry,” Chloe said. “I didn’t mean to. We can talk for real if you want. No jokes.”

Beca looked a little ashamed. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just… I’m fed up.”

“I know,” Chloe said, taking hold of her hand. “I’m sorry. And… And yeah. I know you’re dying, Bec.”

Beca nodded, and looked like she was trying to psyche herself up to say something. “They’re moving me to a hospice.”

“Fuck,” Chloe said. “When?”

“Soon,” Beca said. “Within the next few days.”

“Right.” Chloe’s eyes had filled with tears but she didn’t want Beca to see. “Okay. I can still visit you, right?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “Basically all the time. Not that you’d want to. But there’s fewer restrictions. Since they’re not really there to keep me alive. It’s more… They’re making me comfortable.”

“No, that makes sense. I’ll be there as often as I can,” Chloe said. “I can take some time off work-”

“Chlo’ you don’t have to,” Beca said. “If you need to… To bail then you can. You should.”

“What?”

“I’m giving you an out,” Beca said. “You don’t have to be here at the end.”

“I’m not leaving you now,” Chloe said.

Five days before

“I didn’t pass out that day,” Beca said, her voice rough and thick with sleep.

“What?” Chloe mumbled, half asleep herself.

They were in Beca’s room at the hospice. Beca had a decent dose of morphine to keep the pain away, and had slept most of the evening. Chloe barely left her side now, and had been almost asleep herself.

“When you pulled me out of the sea. I hadn’t fallen off my board because I passed out,” her voice kept trailing off as she struggled to stay awake. “I was trying to kill myself.”

Chloe suddenly felt wide awake. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of icy water on her. “What are you talking about?”

“Dying is the fucking worst,” Beca mumbled. “I just wanted it to be over. I didn’t want to die in a stuffy room attached to a load of machines. I wanted to die outside. With the sea. It might have been kinder if you’d let me.”

“I’d be a pretty shitty lifeguard then,” Chloe said, before dissolving into tears.

“I’m sorry,” Beca mumbled, letting sleep take her finally.

“Me too.”

The day before

“She doesn’t have long,” Chloe said, standing outside Beca’s room with Stacie. “They’re saying it’s any day now.”

“And you’re sure this is what she wants?” Stacie asked, looking into Beca’s room through the window on the door.

“Positive,” Chloe said. “She doesn’t want it to happen here. And… and she’s ready, Stace.”

Stacie sighed, tears pricking at her eyes. “Okay,” she said.

“You’ll help?”

“I’ll help,” Stacie said.

Her last day

“Take my hand,” Chloe said, helping Beca into the wheelchair by her bed. “I’ve got you.”

“Thanks,” Beca wheezed.

“Ready?” Chloe asked, tucking blankets over her legs and fastening her coat.

“Ready. Quit fussing,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She tried to bat Chloe’s hand away but the redhead caught it and kissed it, tears building. “None of that. It’s…” she took a deep, rattling breath, “it’s a good day.”

“Are you sure about this Beca?” Stacie asked, making sure the portable oxygen tank was working. “We can do this another day? Maybe when you’re feeling stronger? It doesn’t have to be today.”

“It does,” Beca said. “I don’t have another good day in me.”

Chloe wheeled Beca out of her room and towards the waiting van. She wheeled her into the back and locked the wheels in place. The van drove them to the beach.

Her chair wouldn’t go across sand so Chloe picked her up and carried her, Stacie following behind holding the oxygen tank.

“God you’re so heavy,” Chloe muttered, pretending to struggle with her weight.

Beca laughed which turned into a cough, and blood coated the palm of her hand. She wiped it on her jeans and Chloe pretended not to notice.

“How long until sunset?” Beca asked.

“About thirty minutes,” Chloe said. “Can you hold on until then?”

“I think so,” Beca replied.

They sat at the edge of the ocean, the water creeping ever closer, brushing against the soles of their shoes.

“Can… can you take…” she pointed to her shoes and Chloe removed her socks and shoes so Beca could feel the water against her feet. “Holy fuck that’s cold.”

“You don’t have to go in,” Stacie said, a note of panic in her voice. “We can still go back.”

“Stace,” Beca wheezed. “Thank you for being my friend.” She reached out and squeezed Stacie’s hand. “You can stop being my doctor now. There isn’t anything you can do or say that will cure me.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, Mitchell,” Stacie said, choking out a sob.

“Are those your last words to me? They suck,” Beca said, smirking.

“Fuck you, how about those words?”

“So professional,” Beca laughed.

Stacie squeezed her hand back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“You did everything.”

Chloe was having a hard time keeping it together. She was biting down on her lip hard to stop from crying out.

“I’m ready, Chlo’.”

With Stacie’s help, she removed the oxygen mask and untangled her from the tubes. Beca struggled to breathe the cold sea air, and Chloe had to fight the urge to give her the mask back.

“This is going to be cold,” Chloe said, picking Beca up and walking into the sea.

“I hope so,” Beca replied.

When the first wave crashed into them, the cold shocked Beca so much she started almost hyperventilating.

“Shh,” Chloe said, as they carried on walking. “You’re okay. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

“So… fucking… cold,” Beca shivered and coughed but she was smiling.

Chloe kept walking and soon they were deep enough for her sink down into the ocean, the water reaching just below their shoulders.

“The sun’s setting,” Chloe said, softly, tears spilling down her cheeks.

“I can see it,” Beca said, teeth chattering. Her hands wrapped around Chloe, and Chloe held her close. She could hear each one of Beca’s desperate, rattling breaths.

“Do you want to go back? You’d be more comfortable with some oxygen,” Chloe said, her own voice shaking though not from the cold. “We have some morphine with us.”

“N-N-No,” Beca stammered.

“Okay,” Chloe sobbed, unable to hold it back. “Okay. It’ll be over soon, baby.”

“Th-th-thank y-you.”

“Thank you,” Chloe whispered back, kissing Beca on the cheek.

And soon Beca was a dead weight in her arms.

And she walked out of the see, across the cold wet sand, and lay her down. Wet brown hair plastered her face, and Chloe swept it aside to confirm what she already knew.

Send me one?

#bechloe #bechloe drabble #bechloe au #bechloe prompt #bechloe angst #angst #drabble #otp prompt #prompt

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vergeangst · 5 years

Text

Here’s a little something based off of this post by @coconut-cluster

Also, credit to @itsme98z for the idea of Emile being the teacher who helps Logan out with his situation.

Warnings: Mild self-hatred, comparing oneself to others, mild anxiety (mentions of fear for grades/being judged), Logan just practically drives himself to a walking being of exhaustion

Word count: 1,871

—————

Logan was one of those students who, to the outside eye, seemed to have his life together. He already had a plan for the future, already knew which college he’d go to and what he wanted to be when he grew up, despite only being a junior in high school. He got pretty good grades and seemed to dress to impress, wearing a tie and either a polo or button-up every day. Others in his classes seemed to look up to him in some ways. Logan, however, never saw himself in the way they did. He seemed to only see those above him.

Oh, how he wished he were them, the ones who graduated with a perfect GPA and got awarded as the valedictorian. Those who got all A’s all the time, who seemed to never have a problem with getting above a 90 on every test and quiz, no matter what class. Those who never knew what it felt like to fail so miserably at something such as grades. Logan tried so hard to be like them. He tried so hard to be perfect like them, though at this point it felt unattainable. He was in only 2 AP classes, as History and English weren’t particularly his best subjects. That alone proved to him that he wasn’t as good as a lot of other students. Even in his best class, Pre AP Calculus, he had a 91 as his grade for this 6 weeks.

His life was average at best. Sure, he had friends and a pretty good home life with a lovely pet and supportive parents, but he couldn’t bare to say anything about his disappointment in himself. He knew he wasn’t alone, but he sure felt like it. Logan knew that there were others, even some in his friend group, that got grades such as C’s and D’s regularly, so it seemed sort of selfish and mean to voice his concerns to them. And he just knew that if he told his parents all they’d do is try to reassure him that no, he was absolutely amazing and he had no reason to worry. But he knew that there would always be someone better than him. He knew he could never compare, no matter how much he tried.

These thoughts had been invading Logan’s mind more often this year now that college was just about a year and a half away. To make it worse, his AP Psychology teacher was leaving at the end of the week. Mrs. Kingswood had been Logan’s favorite teacher from the first day he’d entered her classroom. She had apparently been offered a new, higher-paying job in another part of the state. Logan saw the logic behind it, of course. She would’ve been a fool to turn down such a job, but that didn’t mean he’d miss her any less.

From what he’d heard, the person replacing her was a someone named Dr. Picani and he’d used to be a couples’ therapist, a fairly popular one at that. Logan didn’t have much time to think about him though, too worried about his US History, English, and Physics tests later this week.

—————

Logging into the home access center Monday morning, Logan sighed in relief. He’d made an A on both his English and History tests and a low B on his Physics test, which, with the square root curve, would end up as a low A, thank god. He walked into Psyche, a frown replacing the small smile on his face as he realized that the new teacher would be here today instead of Mrs. Kingswood.

The tardy bell rang just as he’d sat down in his seat, his eyes training on the stranger in the front of the classroom. He was wearing a white button-up with a brown sweater vest and a pink tie that matched perfectly with the shade of pink of his hair.

“Hello,” the man spoke enthusiastically, his bright smile immediately reminding Logan of his friend, Patton. “I am Dr. Emile Picani, but you can just call me Emile. Now, there was supposed to be a lesson today, but I figured that today could be a day for me to learn about all of you lovelies. Let’s start with the roll, now, shall we? Fiona..”

Logan sighed. While it seemed the new teacher was extremely nice, he also seemed to have the energy level of both Roman and Patton combined.

“..gan?.. Is Logan Foster here?”

“Oh, uh, here!” Logan spoke, raising his hand.

Emile smiled at him and Logan offered a small smile back before averting his gaze. He seemed nice enough, and he was respectful of his students’ preferred names and pronouns, from what he’d seen. Maybe this new teacher wouldn’t be so bad..

—————

Emile soon became Logan’s favorite teacher. He’d always leave little encouraging and helpful notes on Logan’s tests, which, to be honest, did help somewhat. Logan knew he wasn’t the only one to get the little comments though. He saw the writing in various colors of ink, pink, green, blue, or purple, scribbled at the top of every other student’s tests as well. That seemed to take away some of the meaning of it, except for when he used Logan’s name in them. Then, he knew the comment was for him and only him.

That was only a small booster for his confidence that lasted until he had to go to his next class, though, then he was filled with dread for the rest of the day. This feeling had become all too common these days. His grades began to slip, despite him doing practically everything he could to keep them up. He’d even taken to studying into the late hours of the night, trying to retain any information he could for upcoming quizzes and tests, going to tutorials for multiple classes a week, and asking his parents for help on his homework.

He still acted as if everything was fine though, because he was still better off than some others, right? So, what was the point in complaining about something if the person you’re complaining to is in a worse situation? That’s how Logan saw it, anyway.

Logan tried as hard as he could to do better, to at least just get back to where he used to be, but how could he do that when he could barely even stay awake during his classes? One day, Emile was passing the latest tests back, and Logan saw that he’d gotten a 75, the lowest grade that was still considered a C. He’d only sighed and looked at the note in the top right, this time written in purple. It read, ‘Logan, please visit my room after school.’ He’d frowned at that, but he assumed it was only a matter of time before one of his teachers questioned him about why he couldn’t seem to keep his grades up.

By the end of the day, all Logan wished to do was go home, curl up in bed, and hide from everyone and everything, but he still had to visit Emile. He plastered a small smile on his face as he walked into the room and toward the teacher, who was sitting at his desk, typing something into the computer.

“Um, h-hi..” Logan silently cursed the way his voice shook as Emile turned to look at him, smiling.

“Ah, Logan.”

“You, um, wanted to see me?”

“Ah, yes, of course. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the desk nearest to him, which Logan made his way to, slipping off his backpack and sitting down. “Now, I wanted to ask, how much sleep have you been getting?”

That certainly wasn’t what Logan was expecting. “A few hours.. Maybe 2-4 a night.. Why?”

Emile pursed his lips for a moment. “You know how I write notes for each of my students?”

Logan nodded, the corner of his lips twitching up the slightest bit.

“I do that because I want them to know that I care about each and every one of them. I want them to see that they’ve done something that makes me proud, and that I’m here to help if they need it.”

Logan’s eyebrows drew together. Why was Emile telling him this? He knew that he cared for his students. He was one of the only teachers that actively sought out to help his students and acted as if they were actual human beings with different learning patterns. He used examples that students would understand and explained it to those who may not.

“I told you to come see me because I’m worried about you. I see that you’re trying very hard in my class, but you’re lack of sleep and possibly other factors are contributing to difficulties focusing.”

Logan looked down at the lines that squiggled across the wooden desk he sat at, biting his lip as he debated on telling Emile what had truly been troubling him.

“I-I guess my mental health has declined, as my grades have always been a cause of stress for me, but now th-they’re dropping and..” His eyes filled with tears as his voice shook again.

“And?” Emile rolled his chair to sit next to Logan’s desk, offering his hand for logan as a source of comfort.

Logan took the hand as tears began slipping from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. “I’ve tried everything to bring them back up. Even before they started dropping I was trying to bring them up and I feel like it’s impossible to ever even get back to where I was..”

“Oh, Logan.. Here.” He retrieved a box of tissues, from where, Logan had no idea, and set them on the desk. “Have you ever talked to someone about this?” At Logan’s shake of his head, Emile nodded. “I encourage you to try to talk to someone whenever you feel like you need to. It could be a friend or a parent, or it could even be me if you’d like. No matter who it is, I want you to feel safe and less stressed. It seems that you’ve kept your worries to yourself for so long that they’ve manifested into this fear of failing, while also exhausting you to the point where you’ve accepted it, is that right?”

Logan nodded, a metaphorical weight lifting from his chest at someone finally understanding how he felt after so long of keeping it all to himself for fear of being judged. “Yes. Yes that’s..thank you, so-so much.”

“Any time, Logan. And hey, try to get a little bit more sleep tonight, alright?”

Logan smiled, nodding as he stood from the desk. “Alright. I’ll try. Um, could I possibly get a hug?”

“Oh, of course!” Emile stood from his chair to wrap Logan in a warm hug, allowing Logan to pull away when he was ready. Once he did, Emile offered a warm smile and clapped him gently on the shoulder. “Go get ‘em tiger. You got this.”

“Thank you again.” Logan smiled, feeling happier now than he had in a while as he grabbed his backpack and left Emile’s classroom.

This new teacher had really grown on him, hadn’t he?

—————

Alrighty, I hope y'all liked it! I’m currently working on a pretty hefty angst fic involving Virgil and the snake man (not saying his name or speaking of anything that happens for those that could possibly have a trigger linked to the character), so be looking forward to that in the future!

#tw self loathing #tw mental health #my writing #logan sanders #logic sanders #emile picani #lyss writes

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virgilsinferno · 5 years

Photo

SPILLR » CHAPTER THREE

important :: this is a horror fic and might contain triggering content. proceed with caution.

tw :: nightmares, death, corpse

word count :: 3145

notes :: uh yeah,, there are loceit and logicality stuff in this chapter and analogical in the previous ones,, but there will be no endgame ships nor will there be romance between the 5 of them.

intro || 1 || 2

Lately, Dmitri has been feeling ill. Like his immune system’s getting weaker every day. He thinks it’s nothing to worry about though, and green tea helps from time to time. Yet even when he’s not feeling to well, he still refuses to sleep. Logan tells him it’s because of circadian rhythms. He doesn’t know what it means, but if he wanted to know, he can always ask Logan.

School life was stressful for him due to his popularity. Everyone adored him and constantly bothered him, all because of the fact that he’s kind of popular on the internet. It wasn’t his fault, really. People simply loved the content he posted. From the latest gossip to the recent breakups, he knew it all. And he delivered the news so eloquently, people took his word for it. Not everything posted on the internet is real. He’s just trying to have some fun by rewriting the tales that have been passed down from person to person. He guesses having fun also had its consequences.

Almost the entire school had his number. He doesn’t know how they get it, but he keeps changing it just to be sure. So when he gets the 3rd call that morning, he had his doubts. Upon seeing the caller ID, he let out a sigh of relief. Thank the heavens it wasn’t one of those creeps that keep trying to ask him out on a date. It was only 3 in the morning, and yet 2 people have already started annoying him. At least it was Logan who called. He could never annoy him. If anything or anyone dares to hurt his friend, he would lead an army of followers right to their doorstep and ruin their life.

Hey, he cared about Logan immensely.

“Hey Lo.” He greets, taking a sip of his tea.

“Are you free right now?” Logan asks through the phone. Dmitri chokes on the tea and has a coughing fit. He sets down his tea on his bedside table. It takes a few seconds for him to stop coughing.

“Yes. Are you asking me on a date?”

On the other end, Logan’s eyes flew wide in shock. He somehow manages to keep his cool and a smirk appears on his face. “No. Why, do you want me to?”

“Hell no! Shut up.”

“If you say so. Can you come over right now?”

“Yeah sure, gimme a sec. Be there in 10-ish? Should I bring anything? Flamethrower… sword… you name it.”

“Just yourself.”

“Gotcha.”

He ends the call and rolls off of the bed, landing on the floor with a thump. To him it sounded urgent, so he threw on a leather jacket over his plain yellow shirt and put on the first pair of jeans he saw.

The window had a tree branch near it, so he could get out and get back in through the window with ease. Logan didn’t live too far, which meant he didn’t have to sneak into the garage and get his car. At that moment, he felt incredibly grateful for all of the working out he’s been doing. The faster he can run, the more trouble he can cause. And also, he’d feel less worn out whenever he sneaks out of the house to go see Logan.

7 minutes later, he arrives at the front door and rings the doorbell. Usually, he’d ring it 3 times. One long ring followed by two short ones. It was his own way of letting them know who’s at the door. But this time, Logan opened the door right after the first ring and dragged him in.

“Lo, you okay? You look spooked.”

“I’m good. We should get going, the others are waiting for us.”

“Others? Wait, what?”

“Yes, and we have important matters to discuss.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

They head to Logan’s room, thoughts of the worst possible things that could happen already forming in Dmitri’s mind. Why does he have a bad feeling about this?

“You’ll be fine.” He says, patting him on the shoulder. Dmitri nods. He’ll be fine.

As soon as he walks in the familiar room, he could feel eyes on him. It was a normal thing for him, but there’s always been a slight feeling of discomfort. He only loves the attention he gets when he wants attention.

“It’s you!” says one of them, the one in the purple hoodie. “You’re the guy with the yellow eyes in my nightmare!”

Okay, what? That, he wasn’t expecting. Better to be the guy in someone’s nightmare than to be the guy who’s internet famous, right? Logan gives purple hoodie guy a warning look.

“Sorry, that was rude. The name’s Virgil, man.”

“Virgil,” he repeats. “what an odd name. I like it.”

That sounds familiar.

The guy which Dmitri now knows as Virgil visibly becomes paler. He doesn’t know how to react to this, nor does he know if he should do anything. Was it something he said? He hoped not. The guy with the gray cardigan on his shoulders comforts him.

“Listen man, this might sound weird and all, but that’s what you said. In my nightmare thing. Kinda freaked out right now.”

Dmitri nods in understanding. “I get it. Sometimes I get nightmares that come true as well.”

He realizes what he just said and his right hand immediately covers his mouth. Too much information. That’s when he also realizes that he had forgotten to put in his contacts. Which meant that they could see his real eye color—a mix between light gray and blue.

“Uh, at least you don’t have yellow eyes?”

“Yeah about that… Virgil, right? I seem to have forgotten to put on my contacts before I left.”

“So you can have yellow eyes if you wanted to?”

“If I wanted to. Don’t worry, I won’t use yellow contacts if we are to meet again.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Now, let’s discuss the matter at hand.”

As he was about to continue, Patton’s phone rang. He excused himself and went outside of Logan’s room to answer the call. It was his mom calling. Logan proceeded to catch Dmitri up on things.

“Hey mom!”

“Pat, dear, where are you? We’re worried sick about you!”

“I’m fine mom, I’m at a friend’s place right now. I didn’t want to go home yet ‘cause Dallon might come looking for me there and we’re sort of not on good terms right now. I’ll be back for lunch, I promise!”

“Oh honey, has no one told you yet? Dallon went missing four days ago. His body was found by the river yesterday at 6:50 pm.”

Missing?

… Body?

There was a sudden feeling of suffocation, yet Patton was aware that he could breathe just fine. He knew he was alive, he had to be. Didn’t he call him recently? That means he’s not dead, right? He heard his voice through the phone, he’d know that voice from anywhere. There’s no way he’s dead. Right?

“Are you alright, dear?”

“Yeah mom. I… I have to go.”

Patton ended the call and ran back into the room. He plopped down next to Virgil and put his knees to his chest muttering a few incoherent words. They all stopped what they were doing to try and comfort Patton, even though they had no idea what was going on.

“I-I’m not imagining things, I can’t be. I heard him. I’m not imagining things.” He sounded so confused and the others weren’t sure if they should give him some space momentarily or let him talk it out. Everything was going too fast and they had no time to process the situation.

“Virgil! You were there, you heard it too, right? He was calling me, he’s not dead. You know that too. He was calling and you were next to me and you heard us talking. I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Patton, I uh… yeah, someone was calling you. Could you talk slower please?”

The room fell silent.

“Dallon’s dead,” Patton whispered. It was quiet, but loud enough for the rest of them to hear. “He’s been dead since yesterday. But he called me so that means he’s not dead, right? I don’t want him back, I really don’t, but he called me and now I just have to believe he’s dead?”

“Still confused!” Roman groaned. Of course he’d be the most clueless one out of all of them.

For a moment, Dmitri’s eyes switched from light gray to brown. It was fast enough to think of it as nothing, but what he said was quite worrying. “Not everyone you know is real.”

“W-what?” Patton asked, gripping the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie.

Dmitri tilted his head. “What?”

“I’m all for the spooky stuff, I truly am, but I don’t understand anything! Please, don’t leave me out of this adventure of a lifetime!”

Brown eyes gazed into Roman’s— brown eyes that he knew were once a different color. Though he really never got a good look at Dmitri’s face, so he wasn’t sure if his eyes did change colors. Then again, he did mention something about contacts but he hasn’t been paying that much attention to anything, really. Something told him he’d better stay out of this entire thing.

“Trust me, you don’t want to be a part of this.” said Dmitri in a stern voice.

The lights began to flicker and Dmitri’s eyes began rapidly switching between light gray and brown. He grabs Virgil’s arm and pulls him closer to him in a harsh manner. He leans dangerously close to his ear, and in the softest voice he could manage, he whispers: “You know too much. All those theories in your head are absolutely right. I can’t keep this up, it’s bound to find out. Don’t worry, I’ll get all of you out. Eventually.”

Utterly terrified, perplexed, and stressed were only a few words that could describe how Virgil was feeling. He gives Dmitri a weak nod and wraps his hoodie around him even tighter. As soon as the lights stopped flickering, it changed from a warm white color to a disturbing red color, bathing the entire room with the color red. Roman, though full of fear, got off of the bed to get out of the room and make himself a salad despite his brother’s warnings.

The door wouldn’t budge so he was forced to sit back down on the king-sized bed and snack on the cookies til the lights were back to normal. Logan only cared for all of their safety and wouldn’t want any of them to be attacked by whoever was messing with them. Surely, they’ve got to be inside the house. Yet the look on Dmitri’s face said otherwise. He appeared to be calm, but he was shaking. Virgil on the other hand was breathing heavily, and Patton was trying not to cry.

The light flickered once more, making it dark for a fraction of a second then returning to its previous state. They all sighed in relief. Now that that was over, Logan got up to check if there were any people inside the house that may have messed with their lighting and if there were any possessions stolen. There was just one tiny problem.

“Hey uh, where’s Dmitri?” asked Virgil, who was doing his best to keep his breathing even. He was a hundred percent sure that he was there a moment ago. They would be able to feel it if someone were to get up, seeing as they were all sitting down very closely to each other. It was almost like Dmitri had disappeared in thin air.

“No one is going to leave this room until I am sure that it is safe to do so.” Logan announces to the remaining members of the group.

As if it couldn’t get any weirder, their phones all went off simultaneously, and the television was switching through channels at a blistering speed. A familiar face shows up on TV. It was Dmitri. His irises were now yellow and he looked scared. Anxious, even. There was nothing but darkness behind him. Everything was so difficult to understand and there were a thousand thoughts that were overlapping over each other. It didn’t make any sense.

“I’m dreaming, it’s okay it’s just a nightmare. It’s just a dream.” Roman repeated over and over to himself.

“I don’t have much time,” Dmitri starts, looking around nervously before continuing. “I’ll do my best to get you all out. Just please don’t look at it in the eyes for any longer than 10 seconds. I wish you all the best of luck.”

The television turns off and their phones stop making noise. Roman is the first to speak. “What was all that about?”

A loud crackling sound is heard, followed by the deafening sound of static. Then the power went out. Usually, one would still be able to make out the figures of whatever is in a completely dark room. Or at least be able to feel any objects that were littered around.

It was entirely pitch black. Like when one would close their eyes and be met with absolute darkness. It no longer felt like they were sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Logan?” Roman called out, reaching his arms out and feeling around for any sign of life.

“Here!” His brother responded. Did he hear it on the left or on the right?

It was clear that the brothers were in close proximity to each other. Virgil on the other hand, found that he was slightly farther away due to the voices barely being heard. He took out his phone from his pocket and used it as a flashlight, though not much was accomplished. Everything was still pitch black. He walked around for a bit—a desperate attempt at finding a way out. No luck. Instead, he had tripped on something. Or rather, someone.

Virgil shone a light at what had caused him to trip. A body. He didn’t know if the person was dead or not, but they sure had a familiar face. Well, it did have a rotting smell so he supposed it was a dead body. It was a face he had seen around before, though he couldn’t pinpoint where he had seen it. The anxiety was starting to kick in. Its head shifted to the right, allowing him to observe its face more.

Its eyes flew open.

“Holy fuck.” Virgil kicked it in surprise and ran as far as he could away from the seemingly alive corpse. It was so dark that he had not seen that there was someone in front of him, causing him to bump into the person. He pointed his light at the person’s face which made them squint. It was Roman.

“Watch it, Captain Brood.” He sneered.

“You’re in my way, Roman Numerals.” Virgil retorted. “Where are we?”

“Definitely not in Bill Nye the stoic guy’s room, that’s for sure.”

Someone crashed into Virgil, making him bump into Roman once more. They could tell it was Patton right away, because of the high-pitched squeal he made when he saw it was the two of them. Logan was with him as well, holding Patton’s hand to make sure he doesn’t run off and get lost even more.

“The whole group is here! Let’s go, my entourage!” Roman exclaimed as he took the lead. Logan, Patton, and Virgil followed behind him, with Patton refusing to let go of Logan’s hand. Just in case.

“L, how do you suppose we get out?”

“That is for us to find out. Are you alright?”

“M’not on the verge of a panic attack. It’s strange, I feel like I’m being watched but it also feels like I’m safe.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing.”

The four of them continued walking, following wherever Roman decided to go. It’s not like they know where they’re going either, so they might as well take a chance. Eventually, they come across a door. Roman puts a hand on the doorknob and faces Logan, probably asking for permission first to open the door. His older brother nods. They all silently pray that it’s the way out.

It’s a…house?

More specifically, it was a freaking huge house reminiscent of the one in Layers of Fear. Oh for goodness sake, out of anything that the dark void could possibly bring them to, it puts them in a freaking video game. Virgil groans upon realization and picks up a cassette tape that was randomly laying around. He attempts to throw it at the wall out of frustration, but was stopped by Patton.

“Wait! I found a cassette tape player, maybe this is a clue!” He says, taking the tape from his friend.

He plays the tape.

“Hello? Hello, hello? I’m kidding. This is Dmitri. I see you’ve found the first clue. Don’t worry about me, I’m okay. Doing my best to get it away from you guys as possible. Focus on finding a way out, and don’t split up. It’s going to use your fears against you, and you’re all probably in the first stage right now.”

They all look at each other with accusing stares.

“So which one of you is afraid of this game in particular?” Roman asks, pointing to the other three.

Patton raises his hand slowly. “The painting is scary!”

“This is fine, I’ve played this before. Just don’t wander off.” Virgil said as he gave a knowing look at the other three.

The layout of the house wasn’t how Virgil remembered it, but it has been a while since he had played it so he wasn’t entirely sure. It seemed to have elements from different games he had played, though. He was wondering how a simple social networking site could put them in so much danger when he came across a piece of paper hanging from a strand of spider silk. Logan takes it before Virgil could.

Similar to the first note they had gotten, it had a drawing of an eye. In the center it had a message. Logan reads it aloud.

“You should have read the privacy policy.”

“No it doesn’t!” Virgil scoffs, taking the piece of paper from Logan and reading what it said to the others. “You know too much.”

Roman peeks at the paper, frowning when it obviously didn’t say both those things. He snatches it from Virgil and clears his throat before speaking. “You were better off clueless.”

And of course, it wasn’t the same for Patton. Roman shows him the message, trying to prove that he had the “real” message. Patton reads it for the rest of them, a shiver running down his spine upon uttering the words that were written in such a familiar handwriting.

“I didn’t think you’d last without me. I see now that I was wrong. We’ll meet again.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist :: @ai-incarnate @anon-e-has-a-tmblr @baddeceit-ohsorrydeceit @but-jesuschrist-im-never-good @captainlilithrouge @cats-fandom-universe-room @cryptidcherrry @deceit-is-a-lil-bitch @comicsimpson @easyidentification @effortiswhatmatters @human-being-kinda @ilovemygaydad @insanetentacles @keeshy-ekho @lemon-towns @lesbian-aesthics-are-my-aesthic @lokisuggests @lopaviro @lucifer-just-needs-a-hug @mychemicalpanicattheemo @nottodaylogic @prplzorua @roanoaks @rosepyxels@starrycari @strickenwithclairvoyance @sanders-sides-rebloger@suyun-doo @therealmoshar@theultimatemomfriend @unicornlogansanders @what-even-is-thiss@whizzie72 @why-should-i-tell-youu2

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #ts fic #fanfic #human au #horror fic #SPILLR #tw glitch

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blaperile · 5 years

Text

Homestuck Epilogues - Meat - Page 1 & 2

#Homestuck #The Homestuck Epilogues #reaction #Dave #Karkat #Jane #Dirk #Jake #Meat

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wowheadquarters · 5 years

Note

I have a little idea for the 1k followers. As I followed this blog recently, I was wondering about his history. If you feel like it, could do a summary? Like, why did you start it? Your first joy/disappointment. Any thing that we haven't see that you might want to share. Absolutely anything about the blog and you. (If you're comfortable with it of course)

This is a very good idea, lovable anon, I’ll try.

History:

It was 17th November 2015, somewhen in Tuesday afternoon. I don’t remember what exactly sparked the idea of starting this blog, but I can say for certain that it was heavily inspired by the @bleachlists (which is, if you ask me, better humor than canon Bleach). And thus the first list was born.

(I never expected this blog to get famous. Or followers besides bots for that matter. I hoped, maybe, for a little circle of, like, 5 actual readers. I certainly didn’t think I would keep this blog for longer than 4 months. That’s how it is with me usually, I have bursts of inspiration but lack long-term dedication. The fact that this blog is still going is a miracle.)

At first the lists were written in the “chat” style. I had to make up my own prompts, because the two followers or so only hearted the posts but didn’t interact with me at all otherwise. That’s why the activity was very irregular at the time, I was writing when I was inspired and thus a month could pass without a word from me and then boom, three posts in a week. Additionally, I wasn’t writing only lists, but also short stuff, kind of like “Slice of life from Azeroth.” Of these the most famous is Chromie and Dragons and in my opinion the best one and not enough appreciated one is Kel’thuzad’s Heard Of Sylvanas’ Plans.

The first breakthrough came in January 2016 when an anon, who made me happy so much that I called them “lovable” in the list and kept on doing so for all following anons, requested the very first requested list, the Care of Babies list. For a long time this has been the list with the most notes. Now there are too many lists to keep count and Tumblr doesn’t do “the best of your posts,” but still it is one of the most popular posts I have and along with the Chromie and Dragons it still pops up in my notifications. Around April 2016 I had stable enough queue of requested lists to stop making up my own prompts, thus I could completely rely on prompts from followers, most of them from anons.

Another important milestone was August of the same year: First of all, I came up with a posting schedule (Fridays and Mondays, but two months later I understood that was too fast - It ate the prompts faster than they were prompted, and I wasn’t managing it). Then Taedal was added to the lists, at first he was meant as a joke, as I keep reminding him and everyone else, and somehow it happened he stayed here. Additionally, Varian and Vol’jin’s deaths were acknowledged, putting Anduin on the list. Soon after, Garrosh joined in from beyond the veil to annoy Vol’jin in his afterlife.

About this time the blog began to create it’s own lore (and not only the L.O.R.E.), and I even had the (short-spanned) will to mystify people that Taedal is going to get his own expansion. I even had a sideblog dedicated to Taedal (in fact, it was Taedal’s own blog, intentioned as a RP blog but somehow it never…got much traffic) and even a wiki. The wiki still exists! I like to think of this as the Golden Age of HeadQuarters verse, when I even got fanfics on AO3 and a dozen of drawings for this blog even. This blog lives in an alternate universe where there is a new isle west of Pandaria and Garrosh adopted 37 dead children in the afterlife and learned to be a better person (not necessarily the same as good person, but let’s not lose hope).

I don’t remember exactly on what occasion in the 2017 the Interviews were added, but they were the first not-list which were requestable (that is, they weren’t the short filler stuff I used to make before). I think it was to celebrate the first 100 followers but I might be wrong. The first Interview was held with Taedal, by my decision, and ever since then the Interviews went by request every twenty days, moved to every other Wednesday, later as of not-so-recently, every other Tuesday. In the history of the Interviews, there happened to be only one which wasn’t published, because nobody asked any questions. (It was Interview with Kel’thuzad, pt. 3, and I jokingly said that “ when we met, the Archlich thought I used the Interview as an excuse to go out for a date with him and things went awkward” which resulted in this Top N list).

From there things went rather fast. To here actually. As a celebration for 600 followers (or was it 500? Memory fails me) I began writing Top N, sort of as of a filler in between the Interviews, so actually now this blog has moved back to the biweekly posting scheme very close to the one from 2016. Earlier this year (2018), there was a list about attack on not-Theramore, where I made up a character especially for my timeline speculations - because timeline shenanigans, it is a bronze dragon, and because it is representing me, the character is called Authormi. That is a very poor play on the word “author” (because I am the author of this blog) and the “-ormu/ormi” suffix characteristic for the Bronze dragonflight. Coincidentally, it was also the first time I have referred to myself with any sort of name here on this blog (besides the FAQ where is a link to my main blog) and I am using it since.

An important part of the blog is post maintenance when I try to at least twice a month (but if I’m very responsible, then every Friday evening) go thorough the blog, update the Interview, Top N, and L.O.R.E. pages, delete old request asks and so on. However, over the years a good number of not-request asks had piled up in here. They were…not filtered here and the blog seemed messy with them. Which is why Authormi vs. Inbox tag was created and from time to time when too many not-request asks pile here, I dump them into these post as a sort of archive. I admit that it is not, uh… ideal in case you are looking for something specific, but it keeps the blog clean. Well, cleaner.

The most recent new development of the blog was the addition of the Allied Races leaders - Alleria Windrunner for the Void Elves/Ral’dorei, High Exarch Turalyon for the Lightforged, Jaina Proudmoore for Kul Tiras, First Arcanist Thalyssra for the Nightborne Elves/Shal’dorei, Mayla Highmountain for the Highmountain Tauren Tribes, Overlord Geya’rah for the Mag’har Orcs, and Princess Talanji for the Zandalari. The choice of the leaders is taken from the information on the Allied Races from Wowpedia.

Speaking of Wowpedia, it is my primal source, besides personal experience, when it comes to writing the lists. I used to rely on WoWWiki, but, uh… that one turned a bit messy a couple of years ago and I never get around to check on it now. When I don’t know something, I look it up on Wowpedia. If it’s not on Wowpedia, I consider it a Free Real Estate lore wildcard, which means I can bullshit it out as long as it is lore/character consistent. I pride myself on giving the characters (leaders) some actual character, because, now correct me if I am wrong, Blizzard writers confuse character personality for that wind flapping pole. I am not saying that I am writing “good” or “pure” characters. They have faults, they are prejudiced, foolhardy, depressed (in not romantic ways), mean, holding grudges. Some, like Garrosh, Genn or Gallywix, are more straightforward in their flaws than others, but I am pouring a cup of sour traits to everyone here. (What I am saying here is: Be critical when you read your favorite leader’s opinion. They might not be right and/or honest.)

Overview, as of today, Monday 19th November 2018:

Published 174 lists, 24 more in the queue + bunch of requests hanging in the asks among the posts. (Somebody needs to do their maintenance)

Published 25 Interviews, 9 more in the queue + some in the asks too, I think I saw one request or two.

Published 21 Top N lists (most favoured number for N is 10), 0 in the queue.

1009 followers, woooo! I love you all. Except the 1009th one who is a porn bot, you can go fuck yourself. ‘Xcuse me. 1008 followers now!

The blog is 3 years and 2 days old. Happy birthday!

Authormi’s pick of lists to read (besides the one linked):

What they say far too often: Vintage one, so you see what the old style was like.

What do the think of the heroes: Meta one!

Their pick for a movie night: There were no guesses on what movie is a Ayeroth-verse of what Earth-verse. I am proud of some of those titles.

No Orc Invasion: The first timeline speculation, which I really lvoed. If somebody was to write that AU, I’d read it actually.

If they could erase one person from existence: Another timeline speculation. I like making those!

Draw the squad: Maybe you could draw the squad?

Watching Les Misérables: This one was an especially important journey for me, because this list is why I saw the musical in the first place. Later I read the book too (I love the book), got into some Les Mis RP, made some very good friends out of that… Yeah, I owe this one lovable anon who requested it a lot. (More or less, now I am also a professional Valjean RPer, except I don’t get paid for it. Whenever somebody who knows me joins a new RP server and they haven’t got Valjean, they usually ask me. Like… what? How? Why? Why do you all think I am a good Valjean? Why- Never mind, this is a Warcraft blog. Moving on.)

Spell of the Violent Tongue: The first time it has been brought to my attention that I think about the characters in a way a lot fo other people doesn’t, because this list surprised a lot of readers, and by surprised I mean hit into feels so hard they complained to me. I talked about it with my mum later (family support is an important thing for me and mum is fan of Warcraft), and I’ve been told that “I treat the characters maybe a bit too realistically.” PSA for everybody: Warcraft is a story about broken people and violent racism.

Their God Tier: For the people who are fan of Homestuck too. (Homestuck itself is good. The fandom is weird)

Garrosh’s 37 ghost children: By which they became more or less canon on this blog, a regular stuff which is to be counted with.

How do they insult people: The most recent popular post.

Interview with Azshara: My personally favorite thing I have ever written for this blog, as in, I don’t think I am going to peak it.

Interview with Luxien: Because I want to press Taedal’s story and “expansion” to everybody, read the interview with his older evil sister.

Top 10 favorite characters: I suppose you are a bit curious who my faves are, so here you go.

Top 10 changes to the story I would do: By heart I am a storywriter. I give such things a lot of thoughts. But as I’ve mentioned earlier, lack of dedication is… making things hard.

Other cool stuff to check out (maybe?):

Taedal’s expansion wiki, of course. I have a lot of thoughts about that world and story and… I would love to went about it a bit, too.

This very cool fanfic on AO3.

The official portrait of Taedal.

The official portrait of Authormi.

The description of this blog, as taken from my personal blog:

wowheadquarters (WoW HeadQuarters, World of Warcraft Headquarters, WoWHQ) is by far my most popular blog, despite being younger than SNTS. I add new content twice a week, on Tuesday and Friday. I never thought I’d make more than 10 posts in total, but there we go. I admit that the original idea comes from bleachlists, but it has sort of evolved since then. I am trying to keep the blog not contradicting the canon, but some things in the HeadQuartersverse might not always agree with the official lore

Final words from Authormi:

Oh my fucking god, this is really unbelieveable that this thing is still going on. I never expected this blog to live beyond a month. I never thought I’d get more than 20 followers. I have 1000 now? That’s… is that Tumblr-famous? I’ve never had this many followers. Do you all read this? All the stuff? Am I shaping your view on the Warcraft universe? This is too much power for one person to have.

You want to know what’s actually my happiest memory connected to this blog? It was actually some time back (because my memory is a mess, I can’t tell you how far back), I had a really, really stuffed couple of weeks. A lot of to do, but also mentally exhausted, I was in a bad place for a bit there. Usually I am able to kick myself in the ass, sit down and make up the list on the go, even if it is bound to be miserable wreck of text, I write it. Sometimes when I am super done and tired, I write it on Saturday evening and pretend it’s Friday and so far everyone’s been so kind and there’s been no comment to that. But in those two or three weeks I just… couldn’t. Even clinging to this self-made structure was too exhausting. I wasn’t on Tumblr for basically the whole time (my main blog was fuelled by the queue). Sometimes when I am in a good place, I write lists in advance and schedule them, but at that time no such a thing took place, so this blog went silent without announcement and I couldn’t care less. When I finally found it in me to come online, my inbox greeted me with various people who were asking me if I was okay and whether or not I am still alive written in a very worried manner. And you know… reading that helped me a lot at the moment. It was a reminder that somebody here cares for me and cares for what I do and… Yeah, it was a damn motivation to get myself together a bit and write stuff and do some stuff. Since then I’m trying to announce in advance if I think I am not going to make it, and even then I am still trying to write the list as soon as possible when I am fit to.

A story for your amusement on this “write it when possible” note. This summer I was with my 4 younger siblings (my oldest sister, still younger than I, turned 18 last Thursday, the youngest sibling who also happens to be a sister is 4, but I don’t live with all the siblings, blah blah divorced parents blah blah, not related) and dad and grandfather in the beautiful village (or town?) of Au in Austria. I took my old laptop with me (I’ve got a new one recently) which had battery that could live on it’s own for, like 10 minutes. The house we were living in had no wi-fi, but there was a village-wide public wi-fi… which din’t reach the house. The nearest was at the bus stop, but that one was shaky, and the good reliable hotspot was at the park, 10 minutes of walk away from the house. Now, it was nearly Friday and I needed to post the list. So I wrote it int he laptop’s notepad, then turned off its life support, took it and dashed across all of Au to the wi-fi hotspot, formatted the document into a list, and hit post. About 2 minutes later, the laptop died.

I am thinking about making another blog directly meant for the asks, request or not, and those would stay there. What do you all think? Maybe I would lose things there, I am quite capable of it.

I’d love to talk about Taedal and his demons and his entire story a bit more. But I haven’t got, like, a reason to do so. I am sort of insecure in this matter, I sort of have the feeling that nobody really cares for Taedal here. “What are you thinking, a ‘good demon’ OC?” (Ask me about Taedal and his faction and the Broken and Distant Worlds expansion. I have an expansion and half planned in my head.)

There is some kind of an expectation or anticipation in me to have someone from Blizz discovering this blog and some big consequences happening. I am not sure whether I want it to happen or not. I mean, I am a bit… too-critical of their work in attempt to please the crowd here. (It’s easy to search for flaws when you take the good stuff as the norm. You are actually doing a good job, Blizzard, in the terms of game developing and marketing. But there is that one post going around which says that Warcraft lore/story is written by 9 people who cannot talk to each other. In this spirit, I am sure that there are 4 people writing charcter psychological profiles who don’t know of each other’s existence. Your animation is a snack, though.)

Wow. I suck at summaries. This is as brief as it gets.

#long post #even by my standards

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maple-leafing · 6 years

Text

The Aftermath (Sidney Crosby x Reader)

Request: I don’t know if you’re taking requests or not but can you please write a Sidney Crosby imagine that’s sort of a spin off to the blurb you just published about him?? Like maybe it’s set months later and they run into each other?

Player: Sidney Crosby

Team: Pittsburgh Penguins

Word Count: 1926 (Hopefully long enough to make up for inactivity)

Disclaimer: I mean no disrespect to the players that I am writing for and everything is purely fictional. None of the gifs I use are my own.

A/n: Sorry it’s been so long, but I posted, as promised!! Also I apologize for any mistakes, I’m super tired and currently half asleep. Let me know if you want a part two. I think there’s some unfinished business that needs to be sorted! ❤️

***Based off of this blurb***

It’d been a year since Sidney Crosby had broken up with you in March 2017. Now he was a three time Stanley cup champion heading on his way to a possible fourth. A possible three peat.

You’d gotten a job down in Philadelphia working for the flyers as one of the head physiotherapists. If Sid knew, he probably would have freaked. When they offered you the job a couple weeks before your break up, you weren’t going to take it. But with Sid out of your life, you had nobody holding you back. You were prepared to give up your dream job for him, but he wasn’t prepared to commit to you.

“I loved you.” He said. “Past tense.”

You couldn’t believe his words. “So we’re over then?”

“Yeah.” He spoke. “We’re over.”

You ran that scene through your mind a multitude of times. Whenever you missed him you thought about how he’d fallen out of love with you. Maybe it was better that he broke things off. Yes, you loved him with all of your being. You were in love with him and maybe you still might be, but it might have been better that he told you, sooner, rather than later.

The Flyers and the Penguins were meeting up once again in the playoffs, the series being led by your ex’s team 2-1. So far you’d managed not to run into him, dodging him any chance you got. You’d seen him around the PPG Paints arena a couple of times, but completely avoided him when the boys came home for game 3.

You remembered game 3 of the 2015-16 playoffs first round when Sidney had won his second cup and the first of his back to back victories. You were happy then, the happiest you’d ever been. The win after game 3 against the rangers in New York had been a particularly good night. It was the first time Sidney had told you that he loved you.

He didn’t know if it was the elation from winning, or the New York atmosphere, but he couldn’t help but scream how much he loved you. As you stood on the balcony of the hotel room you’d been staying at, Sidney right next to you, he surprised you by letting out a yell of your name.

“I love you.” He took a breath to yell even louder. “I love you (Y/n) (L/n).”

Shocked, you let out a breath of happiness and relief. “You love me huh?”

“And I want the whole damn world to know it.”

Just knowing he was so close brought memories back that you had hidden away for the past year, memories you didn’t want to remember. Sid was the love of your life and you didn’t think you’d ever find anyone that could compare to the way your heart lit on fire when you were around him. The world stopped and your senses reached a new high, everything feeling like you were experiencing it for the first time. His love was like magic, and yet, you didn’t want to remember.

You heard a knock on your office door that snapped you out of the trance you’d been in. You hadn’t realized how close you’d actually been to crying. “Hey doc, you alright?” Doc, you smiled slightly at the use of the nickname the young kids on the team had given you.

Looking up, you saw Nolan staring straight at you. “Mmm, I’m fine Nolan. Is there something you need me to check out before game 4?” You asked quietly, trying to change the subject.

“Not really, I just wanted to see how you were doing. You weren’t at practice this morning.” You swallowed nervously dropping your eye contact with the young flyer. You’d avoided going because of the shared ice time with the players on the Penguins, due to the time slot being ‘optional.’ It didn’t matter whether it was optional or not, you knew Sidney would have been there, taking the time to improve his game and catch up with some of the guys he didn’t get to see as often due to them being in Philly, and you just weren’t ready for that.

“I was, uh, I was just feeling a little under the weather.” You replied, putting a smile onto your face. “Everything is fine now Nolan. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Oh I know I don’t have to worry,” he smiled cheekily, “but as one of my favourite people on this planet, it is my job to worry about you.” He’d had a point. Since the beginning of the season, what with both of you being new to the organization, he’d become like the little brother you never knew you needed.

“Does this have anything to do with seeing Crosby again?” You watched as his blue eyes twinkled in amusement, the smirk on his face growing more cheeky by the second.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m over him.” You lied. “I may be about the only person on the planet who doesn’t want to talk to the all and powerful Sidney Crosby, but honestly, seeing him is about the last thing I want to do right now.”

“You are so not over him.” Nolan teased. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re still in love with him.” You knew he was only teasing, but his words resonated with you. All of them were true: you were still deeply and madly in love with Sidney Crosby.

Your conversation with Nolan ended on that note as duty called. The game was less than 2 hours away and he needed to be ready. This left you without work for the next chunk of time so you began to meander through the restricted halls of the Wells Fargo Centre. Your mind kept going back to all the times you spent with Sid. It was like him being so close to you was forcing you to try and remember all that you were missing. It was if your mind was forcing you to suffer through the pain you avoided confronting for the past year, as if you were subconsciously preparing yourself for seeing him again. You had no clue what that would do to you. Would you break down? Would you stand bravely and act as if nothing had happened, as if you were okay? Would you be able to control yourself?

As these questions whirrled around in your head, you hadn’t quite realized where you’d wandered off to. Your head was down, eyes peeled on the floor where your shoes could be seen. You paused, dazed and looked up only for a spilt second. Bumping into someone, you suddenly found yourself on the ground, apologizing profusely for coming into contact with the mystery person.

“I’m so sorry.” The man spoke in a rushed tone as he reached his hand towards yours to lift you up.

“No no, it’s alright.” You said as you regained your balance on your feet. “I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was going. My mind was else where.” You smiled still not having recognized the broad shouldered stranger.

“I know what you mean,” he laughed, “happens to me all the time when I prepare for games. Have to get in my own head space you know?” That laugh was what set off the ticking time bomb in your mind. Phil Kessel. Now that you got a good look at him, under the lighting of the poorly lit hallway, you knew it was him.

Of course Phil knew who you were, having been around him almost everyday for over a year. You’d been with Sid longer than Phil had been in Pittsburgh but that didn’t seem to matter at the moment. You’d also known Phil from his days playing in Toronto, bumping into him when you were home visiting family. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t recognize you.

“(Y/n)?” His eyes widened as you ducked your head down. You gave him a sheepish smile confirming his suspicions.

“Hi Phil.” You waved, your tone small and quiet. Phil could tell you were uncomfortable based on the body language you were giving him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked giving you a reassuring smile. “It’s been a long time. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I just want to talk a bit, that’s all.”

“Um, actually, I work here. I have been for the past year.” You watched as his brows raised in surprise.

“Does Sid know about this?” He asked, his voice barley above a whisper.

“No.” You spoke back, “and I’d really like to keep it that way. He’d try to tell me that I couldn’t work here just because I used to date him, that’d it’d hurt his reputation in some way. I’m sorry,” you paused, “but he broke up with me and I’m not just about to give up my dream job because he wants to throw a temper tantrum.”

Phil smiled happily, his grin widening on his jolly face. “I wasn’t going to say a word.” His eyes crinkled slightly as he talked. “You know, I’ve really missed having you around, the whole team has, especially him. I know he really regrets ever letting you go.”

“Then why’d he do it?” You questioned, suddenly piqued by his comment.

“Because he didn’t want you waiting on him hand and foot, living a life where it seems that hockey would always come first.” Phil’s lips met in a straight line. “I just think he didn’t want you giving up your life waiting for him so that you could start a life together. You were always more important to him than hockey, and that’s part of the reason why he couldn’t let you stay.”

You turned as you heard a voice call out Phil’s name. “Anyway, I gotta go (Y/n/n). Can we maybe talk later?”

You nodded as he turned to walk away from you. “Hey Kessel,” you called, “I missed you too.”

“That’s cheating!” Phil whined as you scored against him for the eighth time. “No one is allowed to beat me at air hockey.”

“Sorry Kes. Guess I must just have your number tonight.” You gave him a smirk and your famous puppy dog eyes. “Besides, how could you resist giving me what I want?”

“I know I couldn’t.” You giggled as your boyfriend wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his lips on your neck, nudging his head into your hair.

“Oh stop being so disgusting and go get a damn room Crosby.” Phil pouted mockingly as Sidney continued to give what felt like an endless amount of PDA.

Standing back in your office, your mind was snapped back to attention by the sudden ring of your cellphone. Pulling it out, a number and I name you hadn’t called in over a year appeared on your screen. You contemplated not answering it. Pressing the button that says, ‘remind me later,’ you lowered your phone down, your hands shaking slightly.

Your phone went off again, the rings only sounding louder and louder, the name Sidney Crosby making the screen look even brighter than you knew possible. You didn’t answer it for a second time.

By the fourth call, you finally had it in you to swipe the screen to answer the call. You didn’t speak, waiting for the man on the other line to say something first. “Hey.” His voice sent chills down your spine. Did Phil tell him? Did he know that you were here? The next words that came out of his mouth, confirmed at least one of the two questions that ran through your jumbled mind.

“We need to talk.”

#nhl imagines #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #hockey fanfiction

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