#i just copied my dad homework at this point since he love this design so bad and he offer it to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lumelii · 3 years

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BREAKING IN ~|~ FUSHIGURO TOJI X FEM!READER

Summary: Your business partner and you are celebrating the end of a difficult project. Lucky you.

Content Warning: nsfw, smut, fwb situation, FEM!READER established "relationship", dilf!Toji, face fucking, slight degradation, face slapping (just once) (if I forgot any let me know)

Note: Big thank you to Moni and @shokami for being my guinea pigs on this one.

Word Count: 5.1k

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There were few things Toji liked about traveling for work. He liked seeing new places. He hated long plane rides. Hotels were nice, but sleeping on the mattresses for too long wreaked havoc on his back. He enjoyed making new business connections. Most importantly, however, he hated leaving his kids for long periods.

They were on his mind now, as he checked his phone periodically through the business party he was attending, celebrating the completion of another building Fushiguro Design Group had planned and engineered, this time in New York City. It was almost time for them to go to school in Tokyo, usually one of them called before they left so he knew they were up. His finger paused over the home phone contact for a moment before he put it away with a sigh. Megumi and Tsumiki were both teenagers now, almost in high school. They didn’t need him hovering all the time.

“Congratulations on another success, Mr. Fushiguro.” One of the executives of the company who contracted the firm came up to shake his hand. “You really outdid yourself this time.”

“It was a group effort.” His eyes searched the room, hoping to find a distraction to get him out of this conversation before he put his foot in his mouth. He didn’t deal with clients, he had employees who did that. He wasn’t great at curtailing his frustrations when in conversation. Especially with this client, who changed their design at least four times, which meant he had to redo all the math. Four times.

Luckily, his distraction came just a few seconds later as his phone began to ring. Looking at the caller ID, he felt a wave of relief seeing his home phone number. At least that meant one of the kids was up. He wasn’t counting on Gojou.

“Please excuse me.” Toji stepped away and walked out onto the balcony just off the ballroom, closing the door securely behind him before answering.

“DAD!” He held the phone away from his ear just slightly when Tsumiki yelled even before he said hello. He brought it back to his ear once he was sure his eardrum wouldn’t be ruptured.

“Good morning to you too, princess.” He answered sarcastically. “How are you? Getting ready for school?”

“Megumi stole my notebook again!”

“I did NOT!” Toji heard Megumi yell in the background.

“It had my homework in it! If I don’t get it back, the teacher is going to dock points!”

“Did you already look in your backpack? Everywhere in your room?”

“No, because Megumi took it!”

“Princess, look in your backpack and your room first. If you can’t find it, have Gojou help you. Now give the phone to Megumi.”

He heard her huff and set the receiver down, yelling for Megumi to get on the phone. A few moments later, the receiver was picked up again. This time, Megumi’s voice. “Hi Dad.”

“I swear to god, Megumi, if you have her notebook and you’re lying about it just to bother her—” Toji warned.

“I’m NOT!” He yelled again. “I was over at Yuuji’s house last night anyway, why would I need her homework when we did ours together?”

“Why weren’t you home last night?” Toji’s eyes narrowed even though his son couldn’t see him. “It’s a school night.”

“Yuuji and I were working on homework. Plus his neighbor made sweets. She sent some home with me. I’ll save you some. Are you coming home soon?” His tone was hopeful. It made Toji’s chest hurt. He missed his family.

“I’m going to be on the first flight back tomorrow morning, I promise.” Toji told him. “Are you ready for school?”

“Not yet. I can’t find my slacks.”

“Look on the right side of your closet, they’re probably in there. Where’s Gojou? Can you put him on the phone?”

“I think he’s still sleeping.” The phone was set down again, and Toji had to wait what felt like forever until he finally heard Gojou grumbling on the other end of the line.

“G’morning sunshine.” He yawned. “What’s up?”

“Are you aware the kids are ready to tear each other’s throats out?” Toji frowned. “And why are you still sleeping? They’re almost ready to leave for school.”

“Kento was on the phone late last night freaking out, I had to calm him down.” Gojou stifled a yawn again. “I made sure they have their breakfast and their school stuff is ready.”

“Tsumiki’s missing her notebook.”

“It was in the living room last I saw, I’ll make sure one of the dogs didn’t take it.”

“I KNEW IT!” Tsumiki screeched in the background.

“Shit, I have to go, Toji. Call later.”

The line went dead before Toji could ask any questions. He looked down at his lock screen with a frown, debating on calling back but ultimately deciding against it while he put his phone away. He would call later once both kids were at school, and keep an eye out for breaking news of fratricide in Tokyo.

He looked to the balcony doors when they opened, relaxing slightly when he saw his preferred distraction walking out with two drinks in hand.

You closed the door behind you before walking up to him, holding out his favorite, an Old Fashioned. “I thought I’d find you out here.”

He took the proffered drink and downed it in one gulp while you sipped your Gibson carefully. “Am I that predictable?”

“When it comes to these kinds of parties, yes. Either you were about to lose your temper and needed a breather, or you had to take a call.” You answered. “Problems at home?”

Toji shook his head. “Just wish we were back.”

“It’s been a month. I can’t wait to get back to Tokyo. No matter what anyone says, no one can beat Tokyo ramen.” You leaned your elbows on the balcony railing. He leaned next to you, copying your pose while you both looked over the glittering New York skyline in silence.

“Why don’t we focus on projects at home for a while?” You offered. “Or in Japan, at least. That way we wouldn’t have to be gone for too long, you’d still be able to go home at night.”

“We have some pretty big clients lined up in Dubai and Europe. I don’t think they’d want to wait until we felt like traveling again.”

“You’re the boss. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” You reminded him with a smile. “I can take someone else with me, then send the specs once we’re done. I’ll even let you pick your stand-in.”

“I’ll pick my stand-in whether you like them or not.” He smirked before continuing. “I’m the boss.”

You rolled your eyes and took another drink. “Just don’t make it fucking Ren. I can’t stand that asswipe.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He promised.

The conversation wasn’t typical between a boss and employee, but you were more than that. You were partners at the firm, Toji was just the one in charge. You’d built the firm together from the ground up, making it the success it was today.

He had come to you, needing an architect for his own firm back when it was only an idea, offering two-hundred million yen out of his personal coffers as an incentive. But it wasn’t the money that had made you say yes. It was the almost maniacal determination in his eyes. He had something to prove, and he would burn the world to the ground to do it.

You learned later his wife had just died a few weeks prior, and it was part of his promise to her on her deathbed that he follow through with his plan of opening his firm. You’d been with him since the beginning, in the early days where you both spent countless sleepless nights completing projects other firms only dared to take on, through the intervention staged by his two closest friends Nanami Kento and Gojou Satoru, as Toji became consumed by his work as a way to suppress his grief, to the point where his son almost didn’t recognize him when he came home. You’d been by his side through the boom of success that befell the firm just a few short years after its founding, along with the money that soon flooded both your pockets, and his second “marriage” to a model he met at a film festival, who promptly disappeared after moving her daughter into his home. He had been surprisingly calm through the whole ordeal, submitting the paperwork to make Tsumiki his own once they were completely certain her mother was never coming back, with a hefty cash incentive and NDA to tie it with a nice bow.

He’d been through a fair amount with you as well, dealing with toxic family that had come out of the woodwork as the company started to increase your wealth, demanding money for so-called “investments” they had made into you by providing basic care until you finally left at fifteen. Through the sudden death of your fiancé, where Toji was the only one who could understand and help you navigate through the unending darkness that consumed your life for almost a year afterwards. He’d ignored some of your questionable choices as you tried to adjust to your new normal, but also was not afraid to step in when necessary if the choices turned destructive. You had thought it was just to protect the interest of the firm, but when he had come to your apartment after a sobbing phone call on the anniversary of your fiancé’s death and held you so you wouldn’t feel so alone, you knew it was because he cared about you.

“Are you ready to go back inside?” You asked after watching the sunset sink below the horizon, breaking you both out of your reflection.

“I’d rather drive an ice pick through my skull.” He admitted.

You laughed, the sound echoing off the glass windows and empty air around you. “We could always dip.”

“Wouldn’t they be offended, us leaving early?” He turned to face you with one hand on the railing. You ignored the way his suit jacket strained against the hard planes of his chest.

“Mari’s in there, it’ll be fine.” You said, referring to your project manager. “She loves people. She’ll have them eating out of the palm of her hand.”

“If you say so.” He took the empty glass from you, setting it on the railing before taking your hand to thread it through his arm. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

You made a hasty exit from the party, repeating your excuse of an early flight at least a dozen times so no one would hinder your escape. No one bothered to ask follow-up questions. If they had, they might have found out you were flying private back to Tokyo, and the plane could leave whenever you goddamn pleased, obliterating your excuse.

Luckily, the lie held until you were safely in the cab of an elevator, heading up to the floor that held your two hotel rooms. The company had offered the two massive adjacent suites to you both, taking up an entire floor of the newly constructed hotel. Toji probably could have brought his kids if he had wanted, but he didn’t want to pull them out of school for that long. You were happy to have the entire suite to yourself. It meant you didn’t have to listen to neighbors through all hours of the night, and you didn’t have to worry about keeping anyone up when working late at night.

“The flight leaves at six tomorrow morning.” Toji told you as you stepped off onto your floor. “There’s going to be a car to pick us up an hour before.”

“Did you already send your bags with the service?” You stopped just outside your door, directly across the hall from Toji’s.

He nodded. “I saw yours were ready, I had them sent as well.”

“Thank you.” You looked behind your shoulder to your door then back at him, his hands in his pockets, watching you like he was expecting you to say something else. He looked downright sinful in his all-black designer suit, his normally straight hair styled back with hair gel but still looking soft to the touch. The watch that cost more than most people’s houses glinted in the warm light of the hallway as he played with his cufflinks, also worth a small fortune. You would know. You bought them.

He quirked his eyebrow at your examination, almost like a challenge. Damn him.

“Do you want to come in for a nightcap?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I thought you would never ask.”

You smiled back and turned to the door, inserting your keycard to hear the small click of the lock disengaging, slipping inside with him closely following. “We haven’t broken in this one, yet.”

He was on you before you had the chance to slip out of your shoes. Maybe it was the alcohol that gave him a sense of urgency, the sweet bourbon still on his lips as they slid over yours with a practiced ease, or that you had an early flight in the morning and needed as much sleep as possible to prevent jet lag. If it were the latter, this was definitely not the activity to be participating in.

These liaisons only happened on trips, or late nights at the office or your apartment, where there would be no prying eyes. You both didn’t need questions. It was fulfilling a primal desire, one that burned within you even as both your hearts were locked by grief. There was an understanding. You cared for him, and he for you, but not in a romantic way. You were making sure the needs of a friend were met.

The “breaking in” was also a tradition as well, ever since your first major deal had been completed. When the building was finally complete for a major project, you and Toji would sneak off somewhere to do the deed, christening the building like a bottle of champagne before a ship’s maiden voyage. It had started as a joke, a way to release the pent-up stress that resulted from design and construction but eventually became a tradition. As the business grew over the years, you and Toji had christened well over a hundred completed projects with none the wiser.

You pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders before moving your hands between your fused bodies to start undoing the buttons of his shirt, working quickly in the tight space as Toji didn’t allow you any room to pull away. You struggled to focus while his kisses moved down to your chin and then your neck, licking and sucking the skin with reckless abandon. You let out a breathy moan as he bit your pulse point with a low growl feeling your heartbeat thrum beneath his teeth. Toji pushed your hands away when his shirt was finally on the floor behind him. He grabbed your face between his hands bringing your attention back to him to kiss you. Ever the multitasker, his tongue explored your mouth while he began his task of getting you naked.

“Don’t rip the dress.” You warned under his kiss while his large hands grappled for the zipper. “I borrowed it, it has to be in perfect condition.”

“I’ll buy Mei Mei a new one.” Gripping the top of the dress with a hand on each size of the zipper, he yanked hard, the fabric splitting like he had just ripped a sheet of paper as it fell off your body. His eyes went wide as the dress pooled at your feet, revealing the matching black lace set you had underneath. The cups barely contained your breasts and did little to cover your most delicate areas, nipples peeking through the sheer fabric.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed.

You grinned and kneeled in front of him, starting to undo the buckle of his pants. “Paris paid off, then?”

A sigh fell past his lips as you finally pulled his pants and boxers down, wasting no time to wrap your hand around his thick cock, pumping languidly. His breath hitched as you licked his angry red tip slowly, pulling back to prevent him from pushing past your lips when his hips moved forward. His hand went to the crown of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Shit. You’ve been saving that since Paris?”

“I’ve worn this plenty before. You’ve just never seen it.” Your smirk was devilish. His grip on your hair tightened as you took him to the base, neatly trimmed hair tickling your nose while you forced your throat to relax. You tried to gather as much spit as you could to make the glide easier as you bobbed your head. Toji was a large man with an equally large and impressive dick, almost too much for you to take in. Through years of practice, both on him and several inferior specimens, you had learned just how to hollow your cheeks, how to move, and how to swallow to have a man cumming in minutes flat.

“Fuck, you okay?” He panted when he thrust involuntarily, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag slightly. Once you composed yourself, you hummed around his cock and nodded. Grabbing his other free hand, you placed it on the back of your head with his other one before taking him back down your throat. A silent invitation.

He wasted no time responding, beginning to thrust into your mouth with no reserve. You grabbed his hips to steady yourself as you relaxed and remembered to breathe through your nose. Tears ran down your cheeks while he choked you with his massive cock, mixing with your mascara and staining your skin black. The salty tang of precum hit your tongue, mixing with the saliva that fell from your lips the faster he moved. You smiled around his cock when you cupped his balls, squeezing just enough for him to let out a loud groan.

“Stop.” He growled, pulling you off him and tilting your chin up. He took in your tear-streaked face, your chin and neck covered with a mix of saliva and pre-cum. When he dragged his thumb over your bottom lip, you caught it between your teeth, sucking him in and lavving the digit with your tongue. He chuckled darkly, hooking his thumb in your mouth and using it as a guide for you to stand up in front of him.

“Messy doll.” He crooned. You had to admit, you were shocked as he leaned forward and licked up your neck, tasting both of you on your skin. While you were distracted with his sinful lips, you heard another distinct ripping sound before you felt the cool air of the room against your bare ass. You broke away and looked down to see your panties in tatters on the ground.

“Can you at least leave one piece of my clothing intact tonight?” You frowned at him, your voice slightly hoarse from his antics. “Those were expensive. I know we’re made of money now, but I’d prefer not to spend it all.”

He ignored you and reached around to plant a firm smack on your cheeks. “In the bedroom. On the bed.”

You knew exactly what he meant, but you decided to have a bit of fun as you walked through the massive suite. You could feel his eyes on you, almost predatory when you entered the bedroom and caught sight of the king-sized bed, made with fresh linens and piled high with pillows, accented in the light greys and blacks that matched the rest of the suite. You flopped down on the bed with a giggle, back down, and propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

He frowned at your position as he walked forward. “I said on the bed.” He rumbled.

“I am on the bed.” You played dumb and cocked your head to the side. “What did you mean?”

He shook his head and stopped at the edge, towering over you. “You’re such a brat sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s a nice break from those girls that call you daddy, isn’t it?” You purred.

The growl that ripped through his chest made your heart jump and another wave of arousal coat your lips as he surged forward, gripping your hips to flip you onto your stomach and pull them up so you were on your knees, your throbbing center level with his cock. He ground against you, slipping his length along your drenched labia to coat it, the glide easy as your spit mixed with your slick. He was more than ready to pound into you.

When you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, he put a hand on your neck and pushed you down so your face was pressed into the mattress. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath on your back and trailing up as he bent over you to whisper in your ear.

“You know, I was going to be nice, maybe take it slow at first so you wouldn’t be absolutely wrecked sitting for fourteen hours on our flight tomorrow.” He hummed. “But now, I think I’m going to like seeing you squirm.”

It wasn’t even a second later before he slammed into your pussy, the stretch almost painful as you wailed at the intrusion and he began a brutal pace that rivaled his speed while he was fucking your face just moments before. You were already sopping wet from sucking his dick earlier, turned on beyond belief as you thought about what lay in store for you after he was done with your mouth being his personal fleshlight.

“Shit, you’re so tight.” He hissed, spanking your ass to feel you clench around his dick. “No one can stretch this cunt as good as I can, can they? You need a fat cock to satisfy you, those skinny dicks can’t even get you wet.”

You moaned an affirmative, playing along with his narrative as he pistoned his hips into you. You could feel every vein on him as they dragged along your walls, his tip hitting that soft spot inside you with every thrust. There were plenty of other dicks that had gotten you wet, but it was true his was the most impressive, and the one that had more knowledge of just how to make you scream, monster dick or not. He had that advantage over every other man you slept with.

The slap of his hips against yours echoed through the cavernous room as Toji grabbed your upper arms, pulling them behind your back and forcing your back in arch, his thrust becoming more shallow but no less punishing. You bit your lip to control the noises you were making, but whines still escaped.

When the new position didn’t produce his desired response from you, he released your arms without any ceremony causing your upper body to fall limp back to the bed. You gasped as Toji pressed his hips flush to yours, curling his body on top of yours with one powerful arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from pulling away while his tip continually massaged your g-spot with every roll of his hips into you.

“Tell me how it feels.” He murmured in your ear, his voice steady without any sign of effort. His stamina was something to marvel.

“You know how it feels.” You moaned back, unable to control yourself. You were so close, just ready to reach that peak if he would only speed up. You reached back with one hand and gripped his hip hoping that would encourage him to resume his previous pace.

He took your hand from his hip and put it back near your head, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. The sharp sting of pleasure was what you needed for your back to arch, squeezing around him while you fucked yourself back onto his cock to prolong your climax as much as you could.

Toji pulled out as you finally slowed down, his heavy cock bouncing against his leg as he sat up against the headboard and patted his thigh, signaling for you to climb on. You wasted no time in doing so, raising yourself on shaky legs to straddle his lap. His hands moved to cup your ass as you settled over him, taking his length in hand and sinking down onto it with a sharp exhale through your nose. You could almost feel him in your throat in this position, the stretch still borderline uncomfortable even after he had already stretched you out, coupled with the sensitivity of just having orgasmed.

His gentle grip turned hard just as you were about to start bouncing to stop your movements. You gave him a confused look but understood when his hands started to guide you in grinding on his lap. The added friction on your clit against his pelvis made you sigh in pleasure, just a tinge of overstimulation creeping through the tightness already building in your stomach again. In this position with the lack of harsh movements he was able to play with your breasts, which he always gave proper worship.

His large hands made your breasts look small as he covered the left, slipping your nipple between his fingers and rolling it while he cupped the other, pushing it up and licking at the flesh. You sighed at the rough texture of the scar marring his lips against your sensitive skin and wrapped your arms around his head, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold him close. He loved to tease, licking and sucking all around your breasts until you were about to beg, arching your back further into his touch. You hated begging him, hated admitting how well he could affect you. But you had known each other for so long, you knew each other better than anyone else.

You whined as his lips finally closed around the pert bud, laying the flat of his tongue over the sensitive skin. You felt his lips stretch into a smile against your skin at your vocalizations before he moved to your other breast, immediately latching onto the nipple to produce a breathy moan. You knew he was enjoying himself from the way his hips matched each roll of your own, driving deeper as he got lost in the feeling.

“I got your milkies.” You whispered, part of your sinister trick to bring him back to earth. You were starved for actual friction, grinding not providing the drag on your insides you craved.

He pulled back with a soft pop and frowned, though his pupils were still blown out. “You did not just say that.”

You shrugged. “I thought it was funny.”

“Way to kill the mood.” He mumbled, pushing your breasts together to bury his face between them, licking through your cleavage and up your chest.

“Then why are you still hard?” You squeezed down on him deliberately. His eyes grew dark as he looked up at you through thick lashes and you knew you were in for it.

With one quick movement you were under him, back pressed into the pillows while he kneeled between your legs still holding your waist so he could stay buried inside you, your hips tilted so you were at an angle. You struggled to sit up trying to resume your previous position, but his strong hold on you didn’t allow you any room before he continued burying himself in your velvet walls. You could barely breathe from the force of his thrusts, twice as hard as before but just as fast.

You could have killed him from how composed he looked as he watched you slowly lose control. He watched you with an almost curious expression, studying how your brow drew together and short gasps fell past your lips while he was barely breaking a sweat. You refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing your moans. If he wanted them, he’d have to earn them.

“I know you like taking it from the back, but I think I like this better.” He mused, voice even like he wasn’t balls deep in your cunt. “I can see the look on your face when you lose control.”

“Fuck you, Toji.” You gasped, your words stuttering with each of his thrusts.

“No, that’s your job.” He grinned devilishly and bent down over you, resting on his elbows. “Scream for me, little slut. Let the floors around us know how good I fuck.”

You opened your mouth to retort but a loud scream came out instead as Toji sneaked his hand between you to roll your clit between two fingers. You barely felt his breath on your skin as you shattered beneath him, screaming just like he wanted as your orgasm crashed over you, ten times as intense as the one he had just given you. You gripped the pillow under your head and turned your face into it so he couldn’t see just how much you were enjoying this.

In an instant, you felt the pillow ripped from beneath your head and his hand come into contact with your cheek. The sting of his slap was dulled by the pleasure still running over your body as he gripped your chin tightly in one of his large hands, forcing you to look in his eyes, your noses almost touching. Your eyebrows knit together and mouth open on a silent moan made him finally push as far in as he could on a final thrust, painting your inner walls white with his cum as he groaned loudly. The roll of his hips didn’t stop until he deposited every last drop within you, until you could feel his cum leaking out the sides of his dick. How could he cum so fucking much?

His hands turned gentle as he pulled out, smoothing your hair off your sweaty forehead and tracing his fingers over the hickeys he’d left on your neck. He bent down to ghost his lips on your hairline before hauling himself off the bed and walking toward the bathroom. You could faintly hear him rummaging around through your post-coital fog, coming back with a warm damp towel and starting the task of cleaning you up.

While he did, he grabbed the phone from the room and dialed room service, ordering two meals, along with ice cream at your insistence, billing it to his room. Not that it mattered, you were staying here on your host’s dime. When he was done cleaning you, he laid on his side next to you, smiling down fondly as you still tried to catch your breath.

“You did good.” He whispered, caressing your face. You managed a weak smile and laughed.

“Don’t get soft on me now, Fushiguro.” You sighed. “I might just lose respect for you.”

He smiled down at you, basking in the afterglow of your liaison. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

Tags: @oikawaandkuroostan, @gummy-dummy

#growing pains #fushiguro toji #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro tsumiki #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic

38 notes · View notes

xsugarysweetsx · 4 years

Note

Yay!! I was wondering if you could do a shoto x reader. Where they are married and reader is pregnant again. They live in this really big japanese style houses with a lovely garden. Just some domestic au. Like reader's basic life with shoto. Making breakfast and taking the kids to school. Watching them play in the garden with her husband. I just want to see shoto as a husband and a dad. I really hope this is not too confusing 😟😟 Thank you !!

Don’t worry I understand what you meant! Please enjoy!

Here’s a similar one!: lovely morning

A/N: I feel like Sora and Haru would be super protective older brothers

People always asked if your life must be full of perks. Especially because you were married to a pro, well it was. You were able to travel with Shoto, he also bought a beautiful home. It was a Japanese styled home, much like his old one. He designed it specifically for it to be and feel like home.

In the backyard he put two of your favorite things. A small koi pond and a cherry blossom tree. He knew it gave you tranquility so he had them installed.

No it wasn’t he money, or the big houses and all that. You were married to the love of your life, Shoto Todoroki.

He was a wonderful man, an even better hero and fantastic father. You had two beautiful twin sons, Sora and Haru. They were 5 years old and it’s been a wonderful 5 years. He was basically the perfect father.

He was soft spoken, patient and kind. It always warmed your heart when you see him resolve a problem without tension or anger. He loved being involved in their lives. He would walk them to school if he had time. Help them with homework, he even showed them how to control their quirks.

Sora has his fire quirk and Haru had his ice one. He trains them, but only if they wanted to. Sora looked more like his father while Haru looked a bit more like you. Haru has his turquoise eyes and Sora had your E/C eyes.

“Are you sure you’re up to train? You can say no” he would always say. His past with his father haunted him for years. He didn’t want it to repeat with his own children. When you were first pregnant he swore to you that he would never hurt his children.

“I swear to you in my life, I would rather die than ever lay a finger in you or them” he would say when you were cuddling or when he was having time with your belly.

They’re were the lights of your life, and you couldn’t be happier. On top of that you had one more on the way. You were 5 months pregnant with your third child.

You recently found out you were having a baby girl! Either way you would have been blessed with another baby. Deep down inside you were hoping for a girl since the boys out numbered you.

You all had finished having some lunch, you were cleaning up since the boys were outside. Shoto thanked you for the food. He was always so affectionate to you since the beginning. But now that you were expecting, it only doubled.

After finishing up the dishes you dried your hands and walk to the back porch. They hadn’t noticed you yet but all three boys were playing with each other. A smile came across you face as you watch Shoto chase the boys.

They squealed and laughed as he caught them in his arms. He got both of them on the ground as he tickled them. They all looked so happy. You couldn’t ask for a better life. You caress your belly, thinking of how much more enjoy was going to be added in the family.

You walk down the short steps and to your boys. They look up at you with smiles

“Can you play with us mama?” Haru asked

“Yeha mamma!” Sora encouraged him. Shoto sat up and dusted himself off. He came to your side and said

“Boys, as much as your mother would like to play with you she can’t at the moment. Remember she’s carrying your little sister” he said laying a hand to your belly. At that moment you felt a kick against your skin. Without looking away from your bump Shoto motioned the boys over

“Put your hands here” he placed them where his hand was before and they waited. They didn’t know what they were waiting for but then their eyes went wide.

Their little sister had kicked

“Whoaaa!” They both said in sync, there mesmerized by the small bump.

“When is she coming mama?” Sora asked

“She’s strong! Can she train with us?” Asked Haru

You giggle at their excitement “She’ll come soon, and we would have to wait for her to get big and strong like you first”

“What are you gonna name her?” Sora asked, you look up at Shoto. You originally wanted to keep it a secret until her birth but, might as well tell her brothers

“Her name is Mei. Mei Todoroki”

....

“Are we gonna see Mei mommy?” Asked Haru as you made your way to the clinic. You had a screening today an decided to bring the boys along.

You were called in and you took your place on the chair. Shoto kept both boys in his lap so they could see the screen. The doctor came in and rub the gel on to your abdomen. Looking around she finds your baby

“And here she is, growing healthy and beautifuly” the doctor smiled at you

“Look papa!” Haru pointed star the screen

“I see boys, you both were like that before you were born” Shoto tells them Sora looked up at him

“Really? Both of us fit in mom?” He asked with a sparkle in his eye. Sora was always curious and always wanted to know why, when and how things worked.

“Mhm, both of you were in mommy’s tummy before you joined us” you said smiling at him. The doctor printed out a copy for you both and you were on your way. It was actually queit cute, the boys started to argue over who would be the best brother for Mei.

.....

Shoto had gone with the boys to school for parent day. He went in to tell the kids about what he did as a pro hero. Sora and Haru had the best time.

They knew their father was a pro hero and they were proud of it. Guess you could say this was a bit of an ego boost for them. When they got home they were excited to tell you how everything went and how many kids wanted to be their new best friend.

But your favorite part was at night. When the boys tired themselves out, Shoto carries them to bed. He tucks then in and you both give them kisses goodnight. You would walk back to your bedroom and snuggle together. He would hold you close as he rubbed cirlcles with his thumb over your belly

“You’re a great mother, you know that?” He would compliment you

“And you’re just as great for our boys and soon our little girl too” speaking of which he always had a ritual to speak to Mei at night. He shifted himself lower so he was face to face with your belly. His hand laid on the side of your stomach and he spoke

“Hey princess, it’s daddy, we can’t wait for you to come! Your brothers are excited too, I’m training them to protect you. I already know you’re going to be as beautiful as your mother” he looked up and gave you a smirk “so I need to protect you from boys and so will Sora and Haru. That’s all for today Mei, I love you”

He kissed a spot just above your bellybutton. It was his special spot for kisses when you were pregnant. He turned the lights out and rested next to you. The moon light shining in through the window. He caresses your face and laid a kiss to your temple.

“I love you” he would whisper

“And I love you”

I hope this was okay anon! And sorry about the wait!❤️

#shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader pregnant #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #boko no hero academia #anime #fanfiction #anime x reader

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otomeramblings · 3 years

Text

And then the Sun Shone so Bright

Pairing: None; Tenma-centric A/N: hhhh I’m sorry this took me so long! I was having a hard time finding motivation to write during these past 2 weeks. But! inspiration finally struck. I originally was gonna make this romantic but then parts of the song gave me natsugumi feels and well, here we are lol But also! I’m sorry I didn’t include Kumon but I haven’t read episode 6 yet;;; Thank you so much, @chewie-santatoast!! You’re very kind and I’m glad you like what I put out there!! I hope you like this one too and thank you for requesting~~

🎵 Song: Best of Me by BTS 🎵

As Igawa finished sending a message, he pocketed his phone and lifted his gaze to see Tenma still eyeing the rack of keychains in the back corner of the store. The bags with sweet treats they had picked up still hung from Tenma’s wrist as he stood there, one hand on his hip and one on his chin, clearly trying to find something.

After shooting wrapped up, they went to one of the local bakeries to buy some souvenirs for Tenma’s theatre troupe. It was something he had taken the habit of doing and while he was surprised by it at first, Igawa was fast to encourage this new development; after the first time, he always made sure that whenever the boy had a shoot out of town or overseas, they would always be able to find a moment in their schedule so that he could buy something he could bring back.

They had been doing some window shopping after successfully purchasing the treats when Tenma stopped in front of one of the stores and insisted on going inside.

If he had to venture a guess, Igawa would say that the object that had originally caught Tenma’s attention was the small bonsai keychain that now dangled from in between his fingers. He couldn’t help the small smile that bloomed in his face at that; Tenma’s love for bonsai, while strange in the eyes of his peers for a boy his age, was actually something Igawa himself had grown incredibly fond of since it was one of the topics (besides acting) that actually made Tenma ramble with excitement. Since he had already had his hands on it, though, Igawa had an inkling as to what he was now searching for.

After a few minutes, and having four more keychains in his hands, Tenma strode towards the register. As he placed the items on the counter, Igawa could see that his hunch had been spot-on. Tenma threw a quick glance his way and he must have seen the way in which his manager was fighting back a smile because he quickly spoke up:

“They would just bug me later if I only got one for myself.”

“Of course, Tenma,” he replied with a small nod. It was an excuse but Igawa knew better than to try to get Tenma to admit it, so he didn’t press for more.

As his eyes inspected each of the designs as the cashier rang them up, he understood what had taken the boy so long when he was picking them. He could tell exactly which one would go to each person just by looking at them. Igawa admittedly didn’t know the members of the Summer Troupe very well, but he had gathered quite a bit of information from his conversations with Tenma.

Next to the small bonsai tree, there was a little white kitten wearing a pink bonnet;

“Dammit,” Tenma clicked his tongue seeing the traffic-jam they were stuck in. “I know it’s frustrating but can’t you let them know that you’ll be late for rehearsals?” Igawa spared a glance his way and saw that Tenma was already typing something on his phone. “Yeah, but that’s not the problem,” he grumbled. “We are trying on the new costumes today and Yuki’s already difficult enough normally. I don’t need to give him another excuse to call me- a hack, oh for the love of-.” Judging from the exasperated tone in his voice and the quick typing that followed, Igawa could guess what response Tenma had received and he tried his best to squash down his amusement before commenting again. “Yuki? That’s….Rurikawa, right? You mentioned he’s in charge of making all of the company’s costumes? He did a really good job for your debut performance.” After seeing the state in which the theatre was, a part of him had honestly been worried about the production quality, but he had been blown away by it and the costumes were one of the things that had impressed him the most. “Yeah,” Tenma sighed before putting his phone down. “I hate to admit it, but the kid’s got some real talent in that department and he has potential in acting as well. Now if only he could do something about that snarky attitude of his,” Tenma complained but Igawa could hear the tint of fondness that hid in his tone behind his initial annoyance.

next to it, there was a pink crown with white and gold accents;

“Is that a new script?” Igawa asked when he saw the manilla envelope resting on Tenma’s lap once he entered the car. He knew Tenma wasn’t scheduled to shoot anything soon but it wouldn’t be long until the Summer Troupe started their rehearsals for their new play. “No, this is one of dad’s old scripts.” Seeing the surprise on his face, Tenma added: “I asked him if I could lend it to one of my troupe mates and he agreed.” “Oh?” “Yeah, remember when dad had to play that prince character in a drama?” He did remember; that performance had earned Mr Sumeragi a couple of awards when he was just starting his career. At Igawa’s hum of affirmation, Tenma continued: “Well, one of my troupe members wants to act in a similar role in the future, so I thought giving this a look would help him have a more concrete idea of what it’s like.” Igawa nodded with a smile. “His acting and his presence on stage still need some work, but I think reading this can not only motivate him but also give him some inspiration since it has all the annotations dad made on it when he used it.” Tenma was using that determined and straightforward tone that often laced his voice whenever he spoke about anything related to acting; it reminded him that despite his young age, he was a professional through and through. One thing that had always been true about Tenma was that he was a perfectionist and someone incredibly proud of his work; because of that, he expected that everyone met the same standards he had for himself. That hadn’t changed after he started performing with Mankai, but the way he went about it when talking to his colleagues was definitely different and he was now seeing exactly where it rooted from.

next to that one, there was probably the most unique keychain of the bunch: a small almost translucent triangle protractor,

“Is that homework?” Igawa asked as he closed the door of the trailer. Tenma paused his furious scribbling when he heard his manager’s question and the guilty darting of his eyes told the answer before he even opened his mouth. “......no…...I’ll do it after I finish this!” he scrambled to answer. Igawa sighed a bit in response; Tenma hated doing his school work and usually he would push him to work on it but since he knew that there was a professional tutor in the dorms that could help him, he decided to let him off the hook this time.

“So, what were you writing then?”

“Oh!” Tenma’s eyes lit up at the question. “I just thought up a few ideas I want to try out the next time we have to do street acts. Some of them are a bit advanced but I think Misumi and I could pull them off.” “Really?” he inquired, sitting across from the boy and taking a sip from his coffee. “Yeah.” he shook his head as he closed the notebook. “Misumi’s talent is kinda terrifying; if we could do something to help him focus more, he could probably be as good as me.” Igawa’s eyebrows shot up at that since Tenma was not one to give out praise freely to anyone. If he recalled correctly, Ikuraga’s performance had probably been the second best on their show next to Tenma’s, so while he was shocked by the admission, he could definitely see where the actor was coming from. “I didn’t know you started putting stickers on your things.” Igawa pointed out when his gaze fell on the notebook. “What? No, I don’t-” Tenma exclaimed but stopped himself when his eyes landed on the stickers that adorned the back of his notebook. An ice-cream cone, a slice of watermelon and onigiri surrounded a bigger yellow triangle that had a few words scribbled on with a marker. Twisting his neck, he was able to make out the words: “Good luck, Tenma~~!! (*^▽^*)”

and, finally, there was a paint pallet with a small brush dipped in green paint.

“Yes, yes, I’ll ask him about it. Yes, mom, I won’t forget. Okay, bye.”

“Everything okay?” Igawa asked once Tenma hung up, his eyes focused on the road. “Huh?” the boy asked absentmindedly as he opened another app on his phone. “Yeah, it’s nothing serious. She told me she wants a copy of the poster of Water Me! since it was our first performance. I told her that they already had the flyer with the picture but she says it’s too small, so I told her that I could probably ask Kazunari to make another copy since he’s the one that designed the final version.” He was trying to act nonchalant about it, but Igawa could hear the pride in his voice, happy that his parents were openly acknowledging and accepting his theatre career.

“It is an important milestone,” the manager nodded and then added. ”And it was a beautiful poster.” Tenma hummed in agreement. “Yeah, Kazunari can be obnoxious as hell but he’s got a real eye for design. All of the company’s posters and our website are a testament to that,” he admitted as he scrolled on his phone. “He’s probably gonna be over the moon once I ask him for a copy.” They had arrived at the dorms so Igawa could see Tenma rolling his eyes in what could be mistaken for exasperation were it not for the slight smile on his face. He had seen Kazunari Miyoshi once after their first (eventful) meeting and in that occasion the older boy had Tenma in a side hug while they took a selfie together and what had caught Igawa’s attention was that despite the fact that Tenma didn’t really like taking selfies with people (besides the occasional fan), the protests that came from his mouth were half-hearted at best and it didn’t take long for him to settle and smile for the picture. After it was taken, he could hear Miyoshi saying he would caption it with “Nothing better than some Ice-cream after rehearsals with TenTen!!”

Each of the keychains had gold chains and gold borders and detailing, making it obvious that they were part of the same set despite the wide variety of designs.

As the employee put them all in separate bags after Tenma told her they were gifts, Igawa couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth nor the fondness that seeped through his voice when he said: “I’m sure they’ll love them.”

The actor just shrugged in response. “Of course they will,” he replied with confidence but his manager could see the redness in the tips of his ears.

Tenma had always been a good kid. Arrogant and too blunt at times, yes, but never with the intention of hurting others. However, being in the spotlight from such a young age had isolated him from his peers and his parents' constant travelling only served to make him build even more walls around himself; be confident and keep your head up, your work is what matters, that was the motto by which Tenma lived his life and that was a big detriment in any interpersonal relationships he could have formed. But now, seeing him fuss over which souvenirs to bring to his friends, the deep mark the Mankai Company left on him was glaringly obvious.

He remembered the genuine concern he showed when his parents wanted him to quit. It was one of the few times he saw Tenma’s eyes tainted with fear; and at first, Igawa had thought he had been afraid of the possibility that this project he had worked so hard towards would be crushed, but later on he learned that it was more than that, it was the fear of having to let go of the people who had managed to bring down his walls and had put their all in supporting him so he could turn his past regrets into victories.

Tenma had never looked happier than he did now and that translated to his acting as well; he still carried himself with confidence but now there was also a lightness to his steps that wasn’t there before. Igawa knew that Mankai and the Summer Troupe probably didn’t really understand how much they had truly helped Tenma become a better version of himself in every sense but he would forever be thankful for it.

🎵 Part of the song-based requests [closed] 🎵

#a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!#tenma sumeragi

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

High School Teacher bullied my dad, also bullied me, and in response, we nuke her.

XXL story, TL;DR at the end.

The town where this happened is a small one, and the school that I went to is a 70 year old school. My granddad and my dad are also alumni of this school. Let me just start off by saying this that the alumni of this school are really successful, and the school has had a long history of being very charitable and also offer amazing retirement benefits to teachers depending on how long they’ve worked here. My great granddad donated some of his property to the school when it was being constructed, and he was an advisor and a part of the school board in his time. The school was an all boys school up to 1996, when they had their first Co-Ed class, and is a full Co-Ed now. The school also has all classes, from kindergarten to high school, split in two buildings, the first one houses Kindergarten to Fifth grade, and the other has the classrooms for Sixth grade to Twelfth grade.

Part 1: Teacher vs Dad - The Incident

Said teacher (we’re gonna call her MD) was my dad’s Math teacher when he started High School. She was a young woman just finishing her teaching degree, and was a masters in math and Chemistry. At that point, she was the most qualified teacher the school had.

Unfortunately, MD was also a nasty person. She walked into the class and the students were expected to be sitting in ‘ready mode’ - backs straight, legs together, and hands on the laps, with only the needed textbook and a pencil to take notes on the margins. The class was expected to greet her with a ‘Good Morning/Afternoon’ when she walked in, and she assigned tons of weekend homework. She would simply stop teaching for the entire hour long class if one person spoke without having asked to speak. You couldn’t drink water without her permission, couldn’t go to the restroom unless she finally saw your raised hand and asked you to speak.

There were multiple cases of people complaining against that, but with her being the most qualified teacher there, the school board didn’t take action. Instead, they supported her by saying that this would help discipline the students.

But this is not even the beginning of it. Her exams were incredibly hard, and with the classes being full of teenage boys, they would talk and even one of them doing so would cause her to stop teaching, and not teach until the next class. She would then lecture on a different topic, completely skipping that part of Chemistry. Suffice to say, before the finals, the entire class was in a panicked state, trying to self study enough to at least pass the class.

My dad ended up getting 41%. Our education system said you failed the class if you had under 40%, so he was relieved that he passed. But when he went through his answer sheet, my dad noticed that his totaling was incorrect, and that he in fact had a 49 on that test. He raised his hand, and after about 5 minutes or so of him just sitting in his seat, calmly, with his hand raised, he was called on and MD asked what the problem was.

Dad told her that there was a totaling mistake in the final, and that he actually had a 49. This somehow offended her. Instead of calling him forth and checking his paper, MD decided that it was simply impossible for her, a Masters in Math, to make a mistake in something as simple as addition. She waved him off, and my dad was shocked. But she just calmly turned to the next person with a question.

My dad, on the other hand was not happy. He walked up from his seat, which was basically considered a crime in her class, and put the paper on MD’s desk, and started totaling his points loudly. MD incredulously watched him do that, and was at a loss for words. Though when he was done totaling, you could see her face was flushed and she was furious. She looked furiously from the paper to my dad, and then back to the paper, and the suddenly, a cruel smile appeared on her face.

MD: “Oh okay, I see the mistake. But that is no excuse for this behavior. This awards a subtraction of ten points from your final.”

The class that was amazed at the first sentence went back to having grim looks. And my dad stood there, jaw dropped, that he now had 39 points, and had failed this class.

Instead of responding and making this situation worse, he simply took his final, packed his backpack and left the classroom.

He went and spoke to his granddad, who was on the school board. But he said he couldn’t do anything since grades were completely in the hands of the teacher concerned. My dad took his loss, and decided that revenge was not worth the trouble, and switched classes. He dropped Chem and took up Econ, and that was the last interaction he ever had with this teacher.

Part 2: Teacher vs My Brother and I

My younger brother(B) is two years younger to me, and so, when I was in freshman year, starting high school, my younger brother was in seventh grade. We had an auditorium under construction, and the library was newly renovated, so a teacher was assigned to chaperone the younger class students at the library. My younger brother’s class, unfortunately had MD as their chaperone. My dad had specifically instructed me to be very careful around MD, and I was on the lookout, but my younger brother had no idea just who he was dealing with.

Before summer, our library allows students to take any two books of their choice, for the break. So, when my brother walked past MD to the librarian, and was stopped by MD, he was really confused. He had an Enid Blyton book and a copy of Backyard Science Experiments. Both my younger brother and I are really good at science related topics, and he had been waiting for summer break to do some cool science experiments at home with me.

MD: “Wait a minute, what book do you have there, B?’

B: “A story book and a Backyard Science Book ma’am.”

MD: “What are you going to do with that Backyard Science book! (Turning to the other library staff) I taught his father. No brains in there. You would have no idea what to do with this book. Leave it for someone who does.”

And with that, she snatched the book from his hands, and walked away, the library staff giving awkward laughs behind her.

When he came looking for me, crying, I was furious. I was a really popular guy at school. I won quizzes and debates, and represented the school in national competitions. My friends and I literally had an entire showcase of trophies at school, with our names embossed on it, and most teachers loved us. Man, the Vice Principal of the school and our group were on first name basis! (He chaperoned us on all the competitions we represented the school in).

But when he told me what had happened, I was dumbfounded. I had no idea how to react, but for the moment, I went to the library and got another copy of the Backyard Science book to console my brother. But then, we were out for summer vacation, and I didn’t think too much of it.

When we came back for fall, I had a chem class with MD, the first day of school. This was also right after the assembly, where my group was given the award. So we go to the Chem lab, and MD is on the Lab Instructors desk setting up an experiment designed to liberate hydrochloric acid fumes in a gas flask. Some moments pass by, and we could see that some mistake had been done, and there was no reaction in the mixture (turns out the Zinc granules were impure and rusted). But MD somehow got the idea that turning on the Bunsen burner on full blast would help the experiment. After collecting the gas for about 3 minutes, which is 2 and a half minutes too long, since hydrochloric acid fumes are toxic if inhaled, she is satisfied. She then pulls up the flask to show the class how we do experiments.

Cherry on the icing, is when she opens the flask and brings it uncomfortably close to the girl beside me.

MD: “Does it smell pungent?”

The girl awkwardly smells it and jerks away. To someone who has no clue, that would be a plausible confirmation, but I knew that it was complete horse sh*t. I could see that the girl knew about pungent fumes and cringed away on reflex, and not because it was actually pungent.

I don’t know why I did it, but at that moment, I snorted. Loudly.

MD instantly zooms in on me. Walking toward me with her face contorting into an ugly expression, she goes, “something funny you’d care to share with us?’

I knew I messed up. But I was also angry. This person in front of me had bullied my younger brother, and my dad. I remembered that, and suddenly, all my verbal censors were shut down.

Me: “You and I both know that she didn’t smell anything pungent. That experiment you just did was a failure.”

MD: “Oh! You think you know more than me? (Turning to class) He knows more than me. You know what, I’ll step down. Why don’t you teach the class professor NicholasFiend.”

Me: “Oh absolutely.” To the absolute shock of everyone watching, I walk up to the podium, and while maintaining eye contact with MD, “First thing to remember class! Turn to experiment 1 of your lab textbook. Read the warnings. The gas is pungent, and poiso...”

MD: “HOW DARE YOU! Has no one taught you manners! This is no roadside shack, and you would do well to remember that. Else you’re gonna have a couple broken bones.” (This was in a different language, but if you want the exact translations, it was, ‘I’ll break your limbs and feed them to you’)

She is absolutely furious. Grabs me by the hand and proceeds to drag me to the Principal’s office. On the way there, we cross the Vice Principal’s office, and he sees MD dragging me away, and runs out .

VP: “What is going on here!”

Before I can say anything, MD starts ranting to him about how disrespectful and unacceptable my class behavior is, and is heaving by the end of her spiel. The VP gives me a searching look, and then responds with a, “Go back to class MD, I’ll deal with him.”

We head back to his office, and he offers me a seat, and a glass of water.

VP: “What actually happened in class, NicholasFiend?” He asks with a sigh.

I tell him exactly what happened. Once he hears my side of the story, he looks at me incredulously asks me if I really went to the podium and started lecturing the class.

I look up, and see the gobsmacked look on the VP’s normally reserved face. (Imagine someone who looks like a male Minerva McGonagall being completely shocked) I couldn’t stop myself. It started with a snigger, which turned into full blown laughter. I laughed till my stomach hurt and my eyes teared up. To my surprise, VP was also smiling widely at that.

He shook his head, and that reserved expression was back.

VP: “I know that what happened there had you concerned for class safety but that is no reason for such disruptive behavior. Aside from that, I’m personally going to investigate what happened in that class, and if MD is found to be intentionally forcing students to inhale harmful chemicals, she will be sacked immediately. Oh and you’re supposed to hand over a written apology to MD about this behavior. Now get moving.”

I sighed, and headed back to class. And I really thought that I had ended MD’s career.

Oh how wrong I was. She changed the story so it looked like she had purposely done the experiment wrong and was about to reprimand that girl for inhaling what could have been a harmful chemical. MD pulled one on me and had me look like I was just an insolent child who thought that he knew everything be reading a chapter of the book. And here, I stopped myself. This event was me just going in head on with the teacher who had been in the school for longer than 35 years.

Part 3: Pro Revenge Mode

Now I knew that to help my brother, I needed to get rid of her. My dad knew about what happened in school, and he wanted me to not engage MD. He said it was not worth it. But by now I was in the game. She had played her card. It was my turn now. I don’t know what made it so that she had such a problem with my dad and my younger brother. They were quiet and hard working students. I felt she had something against our family, and I was convinced that my younger brother would have to deal with the problem if I somehow messed up and got expelled or made a worse enemy out of MD.

This was war, and I had a new plan. I started to act really sheepish around her, and made it a point to stay back after class, and ask her questions in the most polite way possible. I was the kid who was guilty of not understanding the plans of elders. I portrayed myself as an amazing student who MD had succeeded in humbling. I slowly, but surely made my way into the category best described by the term ‘boot licker’. It hurt me inside to do it, but what I had planned, if this went well made me light headed with anticipation. I was in it to win it. I conceded defeat in a fight to win the war.

Two years later, I am in Junior year. My younger brother just started high school, and he was taking the Chem class with MD. I was the highest scorer in Chem, and was a pet to MD. She had started to like the NicholasFiend I had portrayed, and made me the Lab Assistant for that year. Two of my best friends knew what I had planned. Everyone else in class hated me for being the teachers’ pet and getting straight A’s when the next highest grade was a B-. Everything was going according to plan.

On the first day of class, I replaced her stool (one of the three legged ones) with a broken stool. This was supposed to be the first in a series of pranks that would hit her that day. She came to class and went to take her seat, and boy she fell.

Well, she somehow hit her hand on the wall and cried out. Yup that must have hurt. But she was definitely overweight. And it couldn’t be traced back to me. I smiled on the inside, as I rushed to her and helped her back up. I ran and fetched her another chair, while inside, the freshmen were trying their best not to laugh. When I got back from the room that had extra stools, I walked in to the sight of her screaming like a banshee. But what got me furious was that she was screaming at my younger brother.

Apparently, she had said something like, “Stupid stools and stupid Lab Assistant fools.” To which my brother had responded with, “It’s not my brothers’ fault you’re too heavy for the stool.” Though I loved him for it, he really needed to learn where to come to my aid. But then, I didn’t do much, and just replaced the chair silently, while silently trying to communicate to my brother to calm down.

Nothing else of concern happened that day, till the time when school was over, and the teachers were heading back. Stage 2 was in motion. We heard a loud bang, and immediately, the large crowd of students nearby all headed towards the teachers’ car parking lot.

We saw MD’s car smoking and her exhaust blown right off. Keep in mind it was an older car, and we had decided to block off the exhaust with clay, that had hardened over the course of six hours on a sunny day. Well, that car had to be towed, and she went home with some other students that day.

She didn’t show up to school for 2 days after that, but she did show up to school on the third day, which was a half school day, because our country celebrates Teachers day. It is tradition that students go to their teachers, current and old, and wish them the best, give them cards, gifts, etc. This was by far the most ambitious prank pulled in the school that I know of. The two days she was absent, we went around telling people to not visit her on children’s day. It helped a lot that my friends and I were some of the most popular people in school, and with the other ‘cool guys and girls’ agreeing to that, we spread the word and got confirmation that no one from the entire class in my year was going to go to her to wish her on Teachers’ day.

But the what actually happened was something no one could have expected. I guess it could have been because we acted so fanatical about it, that our classmates spread the word to all their friends and no one, not a single person in High School, went to her on Teachers’ day.

It was the most amazing feeling of accomplishment I have ever had. She had made this situation for herself. By being the nastiest person I’ve ever seen, it was no surprise that people were fine with doing this to her.

For the first time in 70 years, in our school, a teacher had not had a single well wisher on Teachers day.

Well things are never perfect, and as it so happened, word of what had conspired got to her. The next day, I had just set up the lab. The freshmen were getting settled in, and here comes MD, anger radiating from her in waves. She walks up to me, and I get the hardest slap I have ever gotten in my life, right across my face.

I’d hate to admit it, but that left a blue mark on my cheek, and my nose and lip bleeding. My younger brother, who saw that happening ran towards me, but my shock slowly subsided and I smiled a bloody smile that probably scared him. I told him to go get the Vice Principal.

Twenty minutes later, I was in the school emergency room, with a nurse wiping my lip and me holding a cloth to my nose. The Vice Principal comes in with the Principal and two cops in tow, and they inform me that my parents have been informed, and ask me if I would like to talk about it now or when my parents are here.

I say that I can answer their questions as soon as my lip is bandaged.

So I tell them about the cases of bullying against my brother and I, and also tell them that she is a really incompetent teacher. I tell the principal that he could check the school average in science subjects. And sure as I guessed, in the average scores in the National Exams, we had Physics and Biology come in at 92 and 90, with Chemistry at a surprising 79. Topping that off with assault charges, and she lost her license to teach, two years before she retired, and with that, lost amazing retirement benefits that the school offered. Her car also had no insurance. Huh.

That is not all though. One could ask what would be worse? Well, consider this. The fall she had off the stool, had her go to the hospital for an X-ray of her wrist and hip, that she suspected might have broken. Well, the wrist sure had a hairline fracture. The hip was fine. But well, the X-ray showed another thing.

I don’t think it is normal for anyone to laugh when someone is diagnosed with Stage III cancer. But I did.

Also, I later met with her only living family member. Her nephew, who had long cut all contact with her, but had been contacted by the police and the hospital. That’s where I found out the truth. Well I could never have guessed what I found out there. MD’s mom was my great granddad’s niece. Through my great granddad’s younger brother, who had stolen money from the family, and tried to kill my great granddad. Well, he was disowned. Good sh*t. And no one knew this entire time! Well, not that anyone would care. Happy that the nasty woman is out of our lives. For good this time. Apparently she died last year, with no one by her side.

TL;DR: Nasty teacher failed my dad for no reason. When my brother and I were in school, he got bullied by her. I made her regret it. Got her teaching license revoked, retirement benefits taken, destroyed her car, fractured her wrist, and she ended up getting diagnosed with cancer. Turned out to be a family member from a line disowned long ago for attempted murder, and she died alone.

(source) story by (/u/NicholasFiend)

#prorevenge #by /u/NicholasFiend #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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crazedlunatic · 5 years

Text

Watching Blaine On TV

So you know: The twins call Kurt Daddy and Blaine Dad. Sophie calls both Kurt and Blaine Daddy.

“THE SNACKS! I FORGOT THE POPCORN!” Five year old Nicky shrieked, running for the kitchen and coming back with a huge bowl of popcorn.

“We’re not supposed to have food on the couch.” Three year old Sophie huffed. “If Daddy comes in, we’ll get into trouble.”

“Dad is going to be on the TV and Daddy is on the phone with Aunt Rachel. It could be ages.” Zachy said eagerly.

“Daddy’s on TV?” Sophie gasped. “Why?”

“He’s gon’ yell at people!” Zachy clapped his hands together.

“Plus, we’re not on the couch.” Nicky said, plopping on the floor. “TURN ON THAT TV!”

Zachy grabbed the remote, flipping until he found the appropriate channel, and then slid onto the floor next to his twin. “Gimme popcorn.”

“Don’t eat it all, Munchie. Daddy says you eat as much as Dad.”

“It’s true.” Sophie hopped down, moving between them and forcing them apart so she could sit in the middle. “Bowl, please!”

“It’s Dad!” Zachy exclaimed.

“DADDY!” Sophie shrieked happily, hopping up and down. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

“Shh!” Zachy and Nicky said, Nicky pulling her down.

“But why’s Daddy on TV? Why?”

“Work.” Zachy whispered as Nick waved his little hand to shush them.

“DADDY!” Sophie squealed as the TV showed Blaine again. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!”

“Shh!” Nicky said. “We don’t wanna miss when he gets mad.”

“Why?” Sophie tilted her head to the side and blinked at him with hazel eyes.

“’Cause it’s funny when it’s not at me.” Nicky giggled. “Hey! Hey, watch this, Zachy!”

“Don’t. Last time you got into—trouble.” Zachy finished as Nicky threw popcorn in the air and managed to catch a whopping none in his mouth.

“Fifty second rule!” Nicky said, scooping the pieces up and shoving them eagerly into his mouth.

“It’s the five second rule.” Zachy said.

“Daddy!” Sophie squealed, kicking her little legs up and down excitedly and clapping her hands. “That’s my tie! I gotted it for him!”

“Got.” Zachy said, pushing three pieces of popcorn in her mouth to make her be quiet.

“Yummy!” Sophie cheered.

“Uh oh. There it goes.” Nicky said, flailing his hand to quiet them.

“Dad’s mad face.” Zachy gasped. “Uh oh. He’s in trouble now.”

“GET HIM, DADDY!” Nicky chanted. “GET HIM! GET HIM!”

“That judge is ugly.” Sophie chimed in, hiding her face behind Nicky’s shoulder. “And scary. Will Daddy catch the ugly?”

Blaine said something to the judge who nodded. Blaine got a rather triumphant smirk on his face and the camera flashed to the other lawyer, who look pissed.

“THAT’S OUR DAD! YEAH! TAKE THAT, DUMMY!” Nicky yelled, jumping to his feet and doing a dance.

“It’s not over yet.” Zachy sighed, tugging him back down. “I’m pretty sure this is just the beginning.”

“Well he’s on a roll!” Nicky pointed at the screen. “You are. On. A. Roll!”

“What’s that mean?” Sophie asked, tugging at his arm.

“I ‘unno. Daddy says it a lot.” Nicky shrugged.

…

“Are we ready for this?” Fifteen year old Nick called the second they made it into the house.

Thirteen year old Sophie sighed and set her backpack down. “I have Algebra homework. Can you help me, Zach?”

“After the trial.” Zach grabbed a bag of chips and three sodas. “Dad better make this guy’s life a living hell for the last month he’s put Dad through is all I have to say.”

“Oh, he will. He’s ready for this to be done.” Nick grabbed some popcorn and put it in the microwave.

“Will you two ever not watch a trial that is aired when we’re not in school?” Sophie sighed. “They’re usually boring.”

“I’m telling you, Soph. It is amazing to watch Dad get angry at someone who isn’t me.” Nick grinned.

“But he doesn’t always get mad.” Sophie protested. “In fact, he usuallydoesn’t.”

“But it’s amazing when he does.” Nick said. “Shut up and turn the TV on.”

Sophie scoffed and sat on the couch, snuggling up to Zach who was already finding the channel. “You can’t tell me to shut up.”

“I just did.” Nick plopped on the couch and dropped the bowl of her popcorn in her lap seeing as she was in the middle.

“Aw, Daddy looks so cute in his little suit.” Sophie cooed.

“I told him to wear the Harry Potter tie since he was going to be on television but apparently that wouldn’t have been appropriate.” Zach mock sighed and shook his head, opening his can of soda.

“It doesn’t technically look like its Harry Potter. It looks like two five year olds and one three year old tried to make it look like Harry Potter.” Nick said, tossing three pieces of popcorn into the air and catching all of them.

“It shows his sensitive side.” Sophie said, punching his arm halfheartedly. “And that is what it is. If you hadn’t felt the need to contribute so much,Pooh Bear, it wouldn’t have looked as bad.”

“Shows his sensitive side? The entire world knows he is gay because Daddy is a famous designer and Daddy can’t keep his mouth shut about his ‘beautiful husband and kids’ in interviews. They probably know more about Dad’s sensitive side than we do.” Zach snorted.

“I know Daddy and I are beautiful, but I don’t know what he sees in you two.” Sophie teased, reaching up and ruffling Zach’s curls and Nick’s straight hair.

“Don’t call me Pooh Bear.” Nick said darkly, messing her hair up.

“Pooh Bear, Pooh Bear, Pooh Bear!” Sophie and Zach chanted together. “Pooh Bear, Pooh Bear!”

“You two make my life so difficult.” Nick said, mock scowling.

“Well I’m still mad you kicked me so hard in soccer practice yesterday.” Zach huffed. “Would you like to see the bruise again?”

“No thank you. And I’m still mad your guinea pig doesn’t know how to shut the hell up.” Nick huffed right back before making loud screeching noises.

“Don’t make fun of my guinea pig.” Zach pouted.

“Can I make fun of your cat?”

“No.”

“Your snake eggs?”

“They are lizard eggs, for your information. And shh. Daddy still doesn’t know about those and he’s in his office. It’s Tuesday.”

“Ah, darn. You know he hates it when we watch Dad’s trials.” Nick frowned.

“No. Dad hates it because you follow him around spouting off random numbers and words like they are laws and yell quotes from inaccurate television shows.” Sophie corrected.

“I’m sure he appreciates my interest in his career. It is, after all, paying for my education and my extra soccer lessons so I can get into school on a soccer scholarship. Right, Zach?”

“Meh.” Zach shrugged. “Good luck with that. I plan to be done with soccer after we graduate—if I even make it that lo—mmph!”

“Shh! Daddy’s talking!” Sophie said, clasping her hand over Zach’s mouth.

They all three watched interestedly until Nick stood up and pointed to the screen. “You just made him mad, sir, and he’s going to take you down!” he declared. “I hope Uncle David is watching this. He appreciates it when Dad’s angry too.”

“Uh oh, Daddy’s pissed.” Sophie said.

“It’s so nice when he uses that tone of voice and it’s aimed at someone other than me.” Nick said, plopping back down and eating some more popcorn.

“I thought I heard children down here watching things Blaine doesn’t like you to watch.” Kurt laughed coming into the room.

“It just got good, Dad.” Zach said, scooting so Kurt could sit down. “You’re just in time.”

“Yeah. The Evans lawyer just said something that made him get The Face.” Nick added eagerly.

“The face? If Blaine needed any push to win this one, he’ll have it.” Kurt said as the camera zoomed in on Blaine again. “Oh, God. He is pissed. He better win this or we’ll hear about it for weeks.”

“Or you can make him forget about it with… well, you know.” Nick said, wiggling his eyebrow.

“This just got very awkward.” Sophie moaned, covering her face.

“Blergh.” Zach said, glaring at Nick. “Thanks for the mental images.”

“Your room is across from theirs. Like you’ve never heard it if I have.” Nick shrugged and then said, trying to sound like Blaine, “Children and father, sex is just a part of life. And either way, Dad is going to get sex—either congratulatory, happy sex or angry, pity sex. I suggest finding your headphones and making sure they’re handy, brother and sister, because after the goodnights and I love you’s, it’s on.”

“Have I mentioned how much simpler and quieter my life would be without you lately, Nick?” Kurt asked.

“Daily.” Nick grinned.

“I blame Daddy’s sperm for this.” Sophie sulked. “I wish I had sisters.”

“Hey now. Zach is like a carbon copy of Dad, so you pretty much do.” Nick teased.

“Oh yeah?” Zach said, reaching over Sophie and punching Nick hard in the shoulder. “What was that?”

“Come on. The curls, the reading, the borderline scary devotion to animals. If you were gay, I would be under the impression that Dad cloned you.” Nick shrugged, rubbing his shoulder. “And that hurt.”

“Shut up, Dad’s on.” Kurt said, leaning over also and shaking Nick’s shoulder. “This is why I don’t like you drinking soda. It makes you the hyperactive son that I absolutely adored when you were four.”

“If you loved me when I was four, why wouldn’t you want me to act that way?” Nick grinned.

“Because Daddy can only take so much before his head explodes.” Kurt said very seriously. “Now shh and watch the television. Let’s agree to not tell Dad we watched this, alright?”

“Deal.” Nick, Zach, and Sophie all said together.

…

“According to Hopkins Law 35 point 4 dash 3 trillion, you are wrong!” Nicky declared four hours later when the front door opened a crack.

“Oh, God. I’m going back to work.”

#wbuct drabble #wbuct prompt

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blastoisemonster · 3 years

Text

Mutton Masher

If people ask who my favourite Looney Tunes character is, they’d be treated with an obvious answer: I’ve always loved Chuck Jones’ artstyle, and I’m a die-hard fun of puzzles, so my number one choice always went to Wile E. Coyote... unless I know my interlocutor is more than a casual toon watcher; in that case, I’d always opt for Jones’ less known second attempt at villanous canines: Ralph The Wolf. Can you tell the difference? He’s got a red nose. And a snaggletooth. And should have a darker fur colour. Yeah I know, it took me a while to distinguish them, either.

Point is, good ol’ Chuck probably wanted to re-design the “predator-chasing-prey” gag concept by adding a third element (Sam Sheepdog, in this case, who’s always there to give a good beating to the poor wolf) and moving the setting elsewhere, so he unintentionally created a sheep-craving, forest-dwelling bootleg of his own famous ‘yote. He didn’t gain as much success and in the end, only seven cartoons were created with these characters, making Ralph one of the many “uncommon” muzzles among the Looney family.

But hey, at least Ralph got his own videogame! And a decent one, at that.

You might recognize it from the cover, but if the title doesn’t sound familiar it’s because this game basically got renamed over and over just to generate as much chaos and confusion as possible. It’s “Ralph Il Lupo All’Attacco” in italian, “Sheep, Dog ‘N’ Wolf” in english, “Sheep Raider” in american english (was it really necessary?), “Perro Y Lobo” in spanish... I could go on for days.

Ralph’s game had been introduced to me thanks to a schoolmate during the last years of elementary school; I used to go to his house along with other kids to study homeworks together and then play. Simone (so the kid was called) got this game as soon as it came out in 2001, or at least he got a pirated copy, because since we’re talking about a young italian boy during the late 90s, of course this means his Playstation was modified to play pirated games. I was expecting to look at yet another Spyro or Croc clone, but instead...

Sheep Dog & Wolf is much more similar to a 3D version of “The Incredible Machine”, cleverly mixed with classic PSX action and Looney Tunes antics. It’s technically a strategy adventure heavily based on puzzles, but at the same time it’s also an action-packed platformer and a stealth adventure: a put-pourri of genres that you wouldn’t expect to work so damn well, especially for something that could’ve just as much been as mediocre as many other tie-in titles. Look at those bright colours! Check the music, a stellar mix of jungle, drum’n’bass, ambient, acid jazz and early vaporwave! Take a gander at those sheep! All these years and they still crack me up: they look like balls with eyes xD

This is a single-player only adventure, so Simone kept playing by himself and I could only watch, and he played HORRIBLY. He couldn’t wrap his head around the concept of “being stealthy” and poor Ralph kept getting his nose smashed by the sheep-guarding Sam. Kinda fed up by the fact that I couldn’t even suggest him what to do, I asked dad to get the game for me... on PC. It was kind of a gambling move at the time, because without an Internet access at home, I had no idea if this game was a PlayStation exclusive or not; luckily for me, though, this jewel was available for computers as well.

To give you a few introductions with the game’s goals and mechanics, you play as Ralph who, after having accepted Daffy Duck’s challenge, finds himself on a game show’s stage... which is actually the main hub where the player can access different levels! In each level, Ralph has to steal a sheep from Sam’s herd without being noticed by the big dog. In order to do this, the wolf has many stealthy skills under his paws, including tiptoeing around with the appropriate sound effect or scuttling along in a bush disguise. No one will ever notice him!

But that’s not enough: what would a mad genius be without its arsenal of absurdily complicated crap? Sponsored by A.C.M.E., Daffy’s show provides Ralph with new items and inventions during each level, making every match a legit Looney Tunes episode: from classic rockets and dynamite to robots, hypnotizing flutes, metal detectors and much more. Also, in order to be as faithful to the original source as possible, Ralph never loses health/lives or goes in Game Over mode, but it can still be caught in many, many injuring mistakes that are so various and hilarious to watch that no one would ever get mad at it! The scrawny canine will fall off cliffs, turn into a pile of ashes, get smashed and squashed all around and of course, turn into everyone’s favourite punching bag, for good measure. His skills in solving puzzles are equal to one’s own inventive and originality in using items provided, and possibly, it even awards players who are, more than ever, big Looney Tunes geeks; from what I recall, most levels had more than one solution, so players could go nuts planning their evil contraption anyway they wanted.

But alas, it pains me to admit that, even after considering all its perks, this ain’t the perfect game. Perfect games don’t exist.

Its cellshading style had been a tough one to get used to: now, it feels natural and fits perfectly with the whole concept and original source (I mean, it’s a 2D cartoon, how else can you achieve such a style?), but at the beginning, I was so used to softshadings and round things that these sharp, angular shapes with clear-cut shadows seemed “off”, or “lower quality”. Eventually, I began to accept and appreciate it. Second, Sheep Dog N Wolf is arguably the game that has made me realize that I genuinely sucked when it came to using brawns instead of brains, and it conveyed such message in the worst way possible: a tediously hard boss.

Even though there were some obstacles here and there which required me to think of different strategies, my playthroughs proceeded rather smoothly as, again, the game relied mainly on puzzle-solving themes, which I’ve always been skilled at; sure, maybe it needed some quick-responding actions once a while (in one of the first levels, the player has to avoid an enraged bull, for example) but as far as these duties were short, I always managed to succeed after a few tries. But then I got to Level 10. It starts out as a normal level, sure, and it’s even relatively easy to steal a sheep from Sam’s herd... until you realize that the final goal resides inside a castle’s main hall, inhabited by Gossamer. The red hairy monster squashes, stomps and generates wind blasts that sends Ralph flying away, most commonly off the platform and into the lava. Gossamer hates sunlight, so in order to defeat him, Ralph has to cool those giant cogs (they’re red in the picture, as they’re incandescent!) by letting the big monster get dizzy by rour running and faint senseless on some buttons, then jump onto the cog’s platform and turn them in order to open up the castle’s windows. All of this while Gossamer still goes rampage and constantly chases the poor wolf!

My videogame experiences so far mostly consisted of DOS graphic adventures, Pokèmon, and probably the occasional Mario 64 level whenever I went to my cousin’s (and even then, I rather sucked at beating Bowser). I was just starting to get into Jazz Jackrabbit, but that was 2D. This was new grounds for me, and in retrospective, it certainly wasn’t a good idea to play a 3D platform and using the keyboard arrows to move the character, especially when it was required to run in circles. Other than that, the sudden change in pace and genre of the game got me unprepared, and Gossamer scared me so much! I wasn’t relaxed at all when playing it, and seeing myself lose over and over again got me unbearably frustrated. At one point, I simply stopped trying. During subsequent playthroughs I found myself getting better and better, yet the tenth level never failed in beating me till I uninstalled the game out of disgruntlement and despair. I’ve later found out that it wasn’t only me who got problems with such a boss: even PSX players had their arse kicked quite some time before they could finally advance to the next puzzle. That’s one big mean toughie!

Fast forwards to these latest months: I had ultimately forgotten about Sheep Dog N Wolf, until I randomly started humming one of the sountrack’s melodies and, well, memories came flooding! Years have passed: I’ve had my platform training with many Wii games, my reflexes have improved and so my quick-thinking. Most importantly, my brother has a couple XBox controllers to plug into his computer which will certainly help with smooter controlling! I introduced him to Ralph, and we installed it on is laptop, giving the game another chance. It was so nice seeing my brother, who was born in 2003, describe such graphics and animations as wonderful, and its gameplay mechanic as genius. We breezed though the ten levels as I knew them by heart and, one faithful afternoon, after dozen of tries, we joined our forces to finally beat Gossamer.

IT WAS A CELEBRATION. xD My brother had instantly hated such boss and he wanted to see him down as much as I did. We couldn’t even believe to have passed on to the 11th level! A chapter of my childhood had been successfully closed, and mentioning again my personal achievements, this was a BIG one indeed. The game’s last 5 levels turned out to be quite tricky, afterall, we were getting closer and closer to its end, but those ended up successful as well. We were even so determined to get a complete game that we bypassed the infamous B1Level glitch... by employing anther glitch. Hehehe...

And ultimately, we proved that Sheep, Dog N Wolf is a true hidden Looney Tunes gem, shining among the PSX and PC videogames trasure, and that Gossamer, afterall, isn’t the biggest enemy of such game. That award goes to the space level.

#Diary

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sad-trash-writing · 7 years

Note

idk if you've seen that extra gum commercial where this guy draws little comics on gum wrappers, and he has this crush on this girl. they date and he draws things from their relationship on the wrappers and he draws one to propose to his gf and she says yes. and the song playing is "i can't help falling in love with you". i really would love to see a skimmons version of that. it could be a high school-college au

I know this took ages, but I hope it’s worth it. Thanks for the prompt! It was a ton of fun!

AO3 Link

Whoever invented high school clearly hated teenagers. Daisy huffed out a dramatic sigh and leaned back in her rickety wooden desk. The teacher kept droning on about some boring battle in the Civil War (which Daisy swore they learned about last year, too). Worst of all, she had forgotten her backpack at home today so she didn’t even have anything to doodle on to kill the time.

A slight rustle in front of her drew her attention from counting the ceiling tiles to Jemma Simmons, the only redeeming factor of this class. US History was the only class Jemma wasn’t in the advanced section of (since she was British and only moved to America last year) so Daisy got to stare at the back of her head and listen to Jemma’s voice every time she asked a question.

The sound that drew Daisy’s attention was just Jemma digging a pack of gum out of her bag. A lightbulb went off in Daisy’s head when she realized that it was the type that had the little foil wrappers, or in Daisy’s universe, something to draw on.

She leaned forward across her desk and lightly tapped Jemma on the shoulder. “Can I have a piece?” Daisy whispered.

Jemma lurched slightly in her seat, but pulled a second piece of gum out of the pack and handed it over her shoulder. “Of course.”

She shot Daisy a bright smile and turned back to her notes.

Daisy’s heart really should not be beating this hard from that seven-word conversation. So maybe she had a little crush on the super genius Brit she never saw outside of history class. Sue her.

Once her pulse returned to normal, Daisy slipped out the pencil she always kept stuck her ponytail and started sketching.

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

“Um, excuse me? Do you mind if I sit here?”

Daisy’s head whipped towards the accented voice and instantly regretted taking Miles’ bet that she couldn’t fit a whole order of spaghetti in her mouth.

“Jemma!” she exclaimed through a mouth of pasta. “Yeah, sure you can—”

Daisy quickly realized that Jemma couldn’t understand her and she would probably choke if she tried to swallow right now. Instead, Daisy planted a foot on Miles’ chair and shoved him far enough down the table that there was space for a chair next to Daisy, ignoring his indignant noises.

Luckily, Jemma didn’t seem disgusted by Daisy’s antics and just smiled and pulled up a chair next to her. Daisy quickly choked down the remainder of her spaghetti and tried to remember what a normal sitting posture was.

To distract herself from the sudden presence of the girl she had a major crush on Daisy held her open hand out to Miles.

“Pay up, I did it,” she demanded. She half expected Miles to argue with her, but he slyly glanced at Jemma, who was suddenly engrossed in her sandwich, and slapped a $5 bill into Daisy’s hand.

“So, Jemma—” Daisy started, but was cut off by Jemma mumbling under her breath. “Uh, what was that?”

Jemma peered at Daisy and blushed. “I bet you can’t fit that whole piece of garlic bread in your mouth,” she muttered with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Daisy balked for a moment. Whatever she expected from the quiet British girl, it wasn’t that. “You’re on.”

Once she won Jemma’s bet, after nearly inhaling garlic bread crumbs while laughing at Jemma’s shocked expression, Daisy slipped a spare scrap of paper out of her bag and doodled a tiny scene on it.

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

“So, Jem. Wanna watch Sharknado or Paranormal Activity?”

Jemma wrinkled her nose. “I can’t believe those are the options you’re giving me.”

“Well, do you want to take apart the science of demons or sharks forming a tornado and eating people?” Daisy countered.

Jemma rolled her eye. “I suppose Sharknado. I know there’s at least two more Paranormal Activity movies that you’ll try to force me to watch next, so let’s avoid that.”

“Oh, don’t worry. There’s four Sharknados, too!”

Jemma groaned loudly as she and Daisy strolled towards the bus stop. Jemma had started sitting at Daisy’s table everyday for lunch and even choosing Daisy every time they had a partner project in class. Daisy wasn’t complaining. She even managed to shove aside her stupid feelings for awhile to just spend time with Jemma as a friend.

And friends watched terrible movies at each other’s houses every weekend while over-caffeinating themselves and staying up way too late.

“I can’t stay too late tonight, though. I’ve got an interview tomorrow for a college scholarship,” Jemma said.

“College? We’re sophomores. How have you started looking at that already?” Daisy replied.

Jemma shrugged. “I’ve just had a few contact me because of my test scores and thought it would be a good idea to check my options now.”

Daisy chuckled. “Well, you always do know how to over-prepare. But I guess we’ll only watch Sharknado one and two tonight then. The others can wait until next weekend.”

“Unless every copy of the DVDs mysteriously goes missing by then.”

“That’s what the internet is for, Jem.”

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

“This has got to be my favorite song,” Jemma announced.

Daisy looked up from her ice cream with a frown. She hadn’t even realized there was music playing, honestly. She was just tired from the school day and not looking forward to the amount of homework she had to do later. Luckily, Jemma agreed to help her out, on the condition that Daisy took her out for ice cream first. Only when Jemma mentioned it did she notice that Can’t Help Falling In Love With You was quietly playing over the speakers above them.

“Didn’t take you for an Elvis fan, Jemma,” Daisy teased.

Jemma rolled her eyes. “Well, not Elvis per se. Just this song is beautiful.”

Daisy snorted. “Seems a little sappy to me.”

Jemma tossed a wadded up napkin at her.

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

Daisy blinked away the tears before Jemma could notice them. Jemma was occupied, cramming more bags into her dad’s car while Daisy stood off to the side, wringing her hands just to keep busy. Despite her somber mood, Daisy couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out of her throat when Jemma had to crawl into the backseat and pull one of her bags from the inside, while her dad pushed it from the outside.

Once the bag was stuffed into the car, Jemma tumbled out of the car, dusted off her hands, and admired their handiwork.

“Why’d you have to be such a smarty-pants and graduate early anyway?” Daisy teased.

Jemma flashed her a sad smile. “I’ll be back for holidays and summers still, I promise.”

“I know, but now I have to sit through history alone,” Daisy whined.

“For that, I am truly sorry,” Jemma said with a smirk. Despite the attempts at humor, Daisy could see tears welling up in Jemma’s eyes as well. Daisy grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her in for a tight hug, burying her face in Jemma’s neck.

Daisy didn’t know how long they held each other, but she vaguely heard Jemma’s mom clear her throat at some point. Jemma just waved her off and kept squeezing Daisy like her life depended on it.

Eventually, they broke apart, both giving up on containing their tears.

“You’ll keep in touch, right?” Jemma asked in a tone that sounded more like a demand.

“I-I—” The ‘I love you’ that Daisy desperately wanted to say caught in her throat. “I will.”

Jemma smiled and gave her another quick hug, before jogging over to the car where her parents were impatiently waiting and hopped in. As they drove away, Daisy stuck her hands in her pockets and found a crumpled gum wrapper. She smoothed it out and started drawing.

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

Daisy tried to keep her promise. She really did, but life happened. The first six months Jemma was away at college, she and Daisy Skype’d almost daily and texted after every class. But then Jemma had research deadlines come up and Daisy had to study for midterms and they lost touch.

Years passed. Daisy was accepted into her first choice school for graphic design and packed up to move across the country. She quickly acclimated to the dorm life with her new roommate, Bobbi.

How she got paired up with Bobbi as a roommate, Daisy would never know (Daisy being an art kid and Bobbi majoring in biology). They got along well enough, despite their differences, and it turned out that Bobbi’s sometimes-boyfriend, Hunter, was an art student as well.

They had a standing lunch date at one of the cafés on campus between the art building and their dorm. Daisy jogged in, late as usual, with paint and charcoal smeared on her shirt and a handful of paintbrushes jammed into her pockets.

“Hey! Only ten minutes late this time! Maybe next time you’ll actually be here on time,” Bobbi teased, sipping her coffee.

Daisy rolled her eyes and flopped into the chair across from her. “My lateness is a performance art piece on the societal construct of time. And Professor Rogers made me stay after to clean the paintbrushes again.”

“I’m surprised you can resist calling him Mr. Rogers and asking how things are in the neighborhood.”

“Why do you think I had to clean the paintbrushes?”

Bobbi chuckled and glanced towards the door. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited someone else to join us today.”

“Oh? Who?”

“A girl from the bio lab. She’s our age, but a couple years ahead in her program already,” Bobbi said.

Daisy groaned. “Great, so I’m going to have to sit here and listen to two of you biobabble at me?”

“Don’t even act like you don’t rant about your dorky art stuff at me. Sorry I don’t know the difference between Dega and Dada.”

“Okay, those two aren’t even in the same category. Dadaism is a movement—”

“Daisy?” A new voice cut in.

Daisy’s attention shot to the new voice and her jaw dropped. “Jemma?!”

They stared each other down, wearing matching expressions of shock. Once Daisy’s brain caught up to her eyes, she shot out of her seat like a rocket and swept Jemma up in a bone-crunching hug. All these years later and she even smelled the same. Not that Daisy remembered what Jemma smelled like.

After a few long moments, they loosened their grip and started babbling over each other.

“I thought you were going to some fancy private school—”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming here—”

“—I didn’t know you were going here or I would have said something—”

“—It’s been so long I wasn’t sure I had your phone number anymore—”

Bobbi clearing her throat behind them stopped the tirade of overlapping statements. “Uh…So you two know each other?”

“Daisy and I went to high school together,” Jemma supplied.

“And we were really close, until someone had to graduate two years early,”

Daisy accused, with a teasing smirk.

Jemma just rolled her eyes.

Bobbi smirked. “Then, I guess you two have a lot to catch up on.”

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

Despite the years apart, Daisy and Jemma fell right back into their old patterns of movie nights and teasing each other. Nearly every Friday, they would squeeze onto Daisy’s dorm bed with Bobbi and Hunter and project a movie onto the opposite wall. Daisy finally gave in to Jemma’s begging and agreed to watch something that wasn’t a SyFy original and threw in some pretentious movies her fellow art students loved to brag about, exclusively to pick them apart.

Unfortunately, those stupid feelings Daisy repressed for years reappeared the moment Jemma did.

One day, a new face appeared in Daisy’s dorm room.

“Everybody, this is Will,” Jemma introduced, “He’s an aerospace engineering major.”

Daisy waved a hello with the others, but for some reason decided she didn’t like this guy. Sure, he may be a perfectly nice guy, but he stood just a little too close to Jemma and stared at her with just a little too much fondness.

That night, Jemma chose to sit on the futon below Daisy’s lofted bed with Will. Daisy spent the duration of the movie grumpily glaring in the direction of the movie, but not really watching it.

A few hours later, Bobbi flicked on the lights and everyone shuffled out of the room, leaving just Daisy and her roommate.

“What was that all about?” Bobbi demanded once the door clicked behind Hunter (always the last to leave).

“Hey, I didn’t pick the movie this week,” Daisy defended while she stacked up popcorn bowls.

“That’s not what I was talking about. You’ve never been that quiet during a movie night ever and, every time I looked over at you, you were glaring at the floor.”

Daisy flushed. “It’s just been a long week and I’m tired. That’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” Bobbi muttered, unconvinced, but she let the subject drop.

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

Fall weather had officially settled in, making it suddenly bearable to be outside. Daisy had to dodge at least three runaway Ultimate Frisbee games on the way to lunch and couldn’t help herself from stopping to pick some of the small fall flowers out of the dining hall’s landscaping. She had a mixed media project coming up that she could probably use them for.

As usual, Daisy was one of the last to arrive for lunch. Bobbi and Hunter were already settled in, bickering about something, but still eating off the same tray. Fitz was tinkering with some new gadget, while Trip leaned over and kept trying to poke at it. The only person missing was Jemma.

“Hey, you’re not the last one here for once,” Bobbi teased as Daisy sat down. Daisy waved her off and tossed her bag on the table, despite Fitz’s indignant protests. She had barely opened her mouth to ask where Jemma was, when a flurry of brown hair and lab reports ran into the table.

“THE ORIONID METEOR SHOWER IS TOMORROW NIGHT,” Jemma shouted, slamming her hands on the table.

Her statement was met with blank stares. “Um…Kay?”

“We need to try to see it! It’s supposed to be spectacular,” Jemma continued.

Daisy shrugged. “I’m game. I might finally see my first shooting star.”

The rest of the table mumbled their agreements and Jemma launched into planning mode.

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

Daisy hadn’t realized how much stuff they would be bringing to go watch the stars. Why they needed an inflatable pool was beyond her, when some ratty blankets would do just fine. She hauled the giant box out of the back of her van and dropped in in the middle of the field Jemma had staked out for the group. Even though it seemed unnecessary to Daisy, Jemma found the idea on Pinterest and thought it sounded fun, so Daisy would go along with it.

Once she wrenched the wad of plastic from the box, Daisy hooked up the automatic air pump to the pool, flipped the switch, and then sat back and waited.

The sun was just beginning to set on the grassy field. The tranquil silence was broken by the jarring whir of the pump, but the scenery was still beautiful. Jemma had really outdone herself when picking this spot to watch the meteor shower (she was very insistent that it had to be far enough away from the town to avoid light pollution). Daisy could only imagine how beautiful it would be out here when the stars came out. She rooted through her pocket and found a folded up scrap of sketch paper. She pulled out a pencil and started sketching the trees that lined the field and dotted the horizon.

The pool was just starting to take shape when Jemma’s tiny hatchback pulled up beside Daisy’s van. Jemma hopped out of the driver’s seat and popped the trunk open, while grumbling under her breath.

“Hey, Jem,” Daisy greeted. “Where’s the rest of the group? It’s going to be hard for them to find us when it gets dark.”

“They’re not coming,” Jemma huffed. “Bobbi and Hunter said something about a last minute date night and Fitz called and rambled some nonsense excuse regarding a project he was working on with Trip.”

Daisy frowned. “Huh. That’s strange. Oh well, I guess they’ll miss all the free wishes.”

“So, you want to stay?” Jemma asked, hopefully.

“Yeah, of course.”

Jemma breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god. I was hoping you wouldn’t want to leave because everyone else cancelled.”

“I didn’t come out here for them,” Daisy blurted. She ducked down to fidget with the pool in an attempt to hide her blush. With a sly peek out of the corner of her eye she caught Jemma’s shy smile.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Want to help me unload the car?”

The trunk and back seat of Jemma’s car were both stuffed full of pillows and thick blankets, which Daisy and Jemma dragged out by the armful and tossed in the misshapen pool.

Once everything was arranged and the pool had taken shape, they shut off the noisy air pump and flopped into the giant nest of blankets. Jemma tucked a bag of popcorn and a thermos of hot chocolate in the folds of the blankets and they snuggled in to wait for the meteor shower to start.

Silence settled over the pair for a moment, before giving rise to the sounds of nature. Crickets chirped their last odes to the summer weather before the frost would inevitably sweep through. A light breeze shuddered through the branches of the distant trees, rattling the drying leaves together. A lone owl hooted in the shelter of the trees.

Jemma sighed contentedly and nestled further into the blankets. “The highest concentration of meteors ought to be around the Orion constellation, over there.”

Jemma gestured towards a cluster of stars, but Daisy had no clue where she was pointing. Daisy was too busy staring at Jemma, illuminated only by the dim starlight and talking excitedly about the origin of the Orionid meteor shower.

Daisy smile and nodded in agreement, meanwhile berating herself internally. Why, why did she have to fall for one of her best friends? Her straight best friend. Nothing good could come of this. Only awkwardness and heartache. Daisy pushed the thoughts of her killer crush away when Jemma offered her the bag of popcorn.

A few hours after it was completely dark, they saw their first meteor. Daisy almost wasn’t sure she had seen it. It happened so quickly so thought she may have imagined it, but Jemma’s slight gasp told Daisy that it was real. After the first one, they came more frequently, until they lit up the sky almost before the previous one had faded.

Jemma and Daisy both stayed mostly quiet, preferring to enjoy the natural phenomenon with minimal conversation. Daisy was so entranced by the streaks of light cutting across the sky that she hadn’t even noticed Jemma fidgeting with her hands until she spoke up.

“Daisy, can I talk to you about something?” Jemma asked in nearly a whisper.

The tone betrayed the serious nature of whatever Jemma wanted to say and Daisy’s eyes snapped to Jemma. “Of course. What’s up?” Daisy replied with forced casualness.

Jemma fidgeted for a moment more with her eyes fixed on her hands before she spoke up. “I— Well, it’s—There’s been something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about for awhile, but it’s—it’s just never seemed like the right time and there’s always someone else around, or we’re busy or—or—”

Daisy waited with bated breath while Jemma paused to collect her thoughts.

“I—um. I like girls, I guess,” Jemma finished.

Daisy’s heart leaped and a tiny hopeful part of her brain started cheering, but Daisy quickly shoved it away. This isn’t about you, asshole, she thought.

“Oh. Cool, um, thanks for trusting me with that,” Daisy replied, “Actually, while we’re on that subject—”

“I know, this probably isn’t the best time, but I don’t want to keep any secrets from you,” Jemma rambled. She briefly reached for Daisy’s hands, but seemed to think better of it and folded them in her lap. “You’re my best friend and I don’t want anything to change between us because of this.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I just completely bowled over you. We’re you going to say something?”

Daisy blanched. “No, never mind. It’s not important.”

“Please, I don’t want anything left unsaid between us now,” Jemma prompted.

“Let’s get it all out ther—”

“I love you.”

It seemed even the crickets were silent following Daisy’s confession. If she wasn’t in the middle of nowhere, Daisy probably would have bolted for the nearest closet to hide herself in for the rest of her life.

Jemma’s silence was almost worse than if she had run away in disgust. Daisy mentally begged her to say something. Anything.

“…Really?” Jemma finally whispered.

Daisy nodded, though she wasn’t sure Jemma could see her in the dark. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Let’s just pretend I never said—”

Now it was Jemma’s turn to interrupt. She leaned across the narrow space between them, capturing Daisy’s lips mid-word, and slid a hand around the back of Daisy’s neck to pull her in closer.

Daisy’s body processed this new development before her mind caught up, kissing Jemma back fervently before she was even fully aware what was happening.

By the time they broke for air, Daisy’s brain had finally caught up. “I thought you said you didn’t want anything to change between us,” she said, stupidly.

“That was a complete lie,” Jemma chuckled. “I’ve been mad about you since high school.”

“Really? Why did neither of us say anything before now?” Daisy asked.

Jemma just giggled and leaned in for another, more gentle kiss. Meteors continued to streak across the sky the rest of the night, but they passed completely unnoticed by the pair curled up in the inflatable pool together.

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

“What? Even I can tell you that’s a terrible— No, he’s great, but I know your— Hey, don’t yell at me, you’re the one who’s dumped him four times!” Daisy screamed into her phone. “Hello?…She hung up on me.”

“Um…Is everything alright?” Jemma cautiously asked.

Daisy groaned. “Bobbi just decided she’s going to move in with Hunter at the end of the semester.”

“Oh. That’s…good?” Jemma guessed.

“The school can’t find anyone willing to move into the dorm halfway through the year, so they’re going to make me pay the 'single-room’ price. I can’t afford that!” Daisy complained.

“I can see why you’re upset now.”

“Yeah. I supposed my van is big enough to throw a mattress in the back. As long as campus security doesn’t get weird about me parking it somewhere.”

“You can come live with me next semester,” Jemma shyly suggested.

Daisy’s heart sped up. “What?”

“I have a full scholarship that covers my rent as well as tuition, so you wouldn’t have to pay anything,” Jemma explained, “I wouldn’t mind having someone to live with. It can get a tad quiet.”

“Are you sure it’s not too soon? I mean, we are dating now. Would it be weird for us to live together so soon?” Daisy asked.

Jemma shrugged. “I was going to ask you to move in with me any way. Do you really think I’d let my girlfriend live in her van?”

Daisy pulled Jemma into a tight hug in answer.

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

Jemma’s apartment was nice. Very nice, in fact. The extra scholarship money allowed Jemma to afford a place right off campus, away from the noise and annoyance of the fraternity houses. It was small, but not cramped. Just enough space for Jemma’s sparse belongings.

And now Daisy’s. Jemma failed to mention that her apartment was only a one-bedroom before Daisy had hauled the first box of her possessions up the stairs.

Daisy hadn’t wanted to presume anything, so she tossed her pillow on the couch and looked for a corner to cram her stuff into. Jemma had just chuckled, grabbed her hand, and dragged her towards the bedroom.

Daisy was surprised by how easily she settled into domesticity with Jemma. Given that she was completely prepared to live out of her van, Daisy didn’t expect to find herself so comfortable now. They settled into an easy routine. Jemma left at the crack of dawn for her classes, Daisy following around noon, Jemma went to the lab for a few hours after class, and Daisy went to work at the campus bookstore. They both returned to the apartment late and collapsed into bed or watched TV for a few hours. Friday night, they would make sure to be home in time for dinner and one of them would cook something nice.

The cooking was the one thing Daisy never got the hang of. Her artistic talents definitely did not translate into the culinary arts. The most complicated thing she had ever managed to make herself was a can of chicken noodle soup that she put in the microwave, so she struggled whenever it was her turn to make Friday night dinner.

But she was going to try her hardest anyway because she loved Jemma and wanted to make her something nice.

So here she was, fighting her way through making spaghetti. Jemma was perched on the corner of their bed with her headphones on full volume, typing away frantically at a report that was due early, and made it clear that she should not be interrupted until either she or dinner was done.

Daisy grumbled to herself about the inconsistency of using a 'clove’ of garlic as a form of measurement. Daisy made the mistake of buying the already diced garlic that came in a jar (much to Jemma’s dismay), so she just guessed and threw in a full teaspoon with the meat. Hopefully that was enough.

Next, she grabbed the jar of sauce. Daisy twisted the lid, but it didn’t budge. Daisy squeezed and twisted harder. Nothing. She tried clamping the jar between her knees and using both hands to twist. It was like the lid was cemented on the stupid jar.

Daisy huffed. What was the trick Jemma always used? Tapping it on the counter!

Daisy gingerly tapped the rim of the jar against the edge of the counter a few times and tried again. Still no movement. She tapped it harder. Nothing. Daisy glared at the offending jar. Now it was starting to feel personal.

Daisy gave it one last try and whacked the jar on the counter, but heard a cracking sound rather than the pop of the lid she was hoping for.

“Damnit,” she grumbled. She grabbed the lid and it twisted right off.

Which took the top half of the jar with it. The jagged edge of the jar cut into Daisy’s palm as she twisted.

“Shit!”

The stripe of blood that welled up on her palm started small, but quickly began trickling down her hand. Daisy set the ruined jar on the counter and grabbed for a paper towel to put some pressure on the cut. She barely got the paper towel ripped off the roll when the timer for the noodles went off, startling her.

She jerked back, hitting the sauce jar with her elbow, which sent it tumbling towards the ground where it shattered on impact.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“Is everything alright out there?” Jemma’s voice called from the bedroom.

Daisy sighed and glanced at her still stinging wound. “Hey, Jem. You know how you said to only bother you if something was on fire or I was bleeding?”

Daisy heard the bedsprings creak as Jemma rolled of the mattress and shuffled toward the kitchen. “I sincerely hope you’re being dramatic again or you’re paying the security dep— OH MY GOD!”

Daisy looked up from her cut and saw the carnage of the red-splattered kitchen where she was the focal point. Right after she said she was bleeding (because clearly nothing was on fire). No wonder Jemma was freaking out.

“Oh, no no it’s just this!” Daisy announced holding up her (relatively speaking) tiny cut for Jemma to see, “I can’t really get to the mop without stepping on glass so…”

Jemma stared, wide-eyed, for another moment. Then she burst into a fit of giggles. Soon, the giggles turned into raucous laughter and eventually Jemma was bent over, gasping for air between fits of cackling.

Even though Daisy felt terrible about ruining dinner, she couldn’t help laughing along with Jemma at the entire situation. Her laugh was infectious.

Jemma grabbed the mop and helped Daisy clean up the mess and Daisy went to pick up some Chinese take out. Later that night, when Jemma went back to pouring over her computer Daisy found a red pen and sketched the scene on the back of a receipt and tucked it away.

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

Jemma shoved the apartment door open with a bit more force than was truly necessary. It had been a very long, arduous day and all she wanted was to eat a pint of ice cream and go to sleep early.

She shuffled through the door, knocking into the wall with her stack of reports and struggling to keep them from falling. She grumbled to herself as she kicked some of Daisy’s art supplies out of the way, so she wouldn’t end up tracking paint through the apartment (again) and trudged towards the bedroom.

A little flashing light from the kitchen made her pause. The 'new message’ light on the answering machine to the landline the apartment required them to have flashed insistently. Jemma frowned. Typically, no one called that number. If they needed to get ahold of one of them, Jemma and Daisy both had cell phones that they checked more regularly.

Jemma threw her stuff down on the table and jammed the little button.

A chipper voice cut through the silence of the apartment. “Hello! This message is for Daisy Johnson, regarding the job you applied for at Creative Concepts. It turns out we will be able to cover your relocation to New York City, as well as offering you a percentage more than the listing stated. We would like to get you settled and starting work by late next month so if you could give us a call back at—”

The number the woman rattled off was drowned out by the slamming of the front door.

“Jemma, you home? I got out early and was thinking we could go do something—,” Daisy rounded the corner and saw Jemma’s face, “—fun? What’s wrong?”

“You got a job in New York?” Jemma asked, tersely.

“I what?” Daisy replied.

“A place in New York just called and said you’ve got a job. They want you to start in a month,” Jemma gritted out through her teeth, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Daisy blinked at her for a moment. “I thought you’d be…happier.”

“Happier?!” Jemma snapped, “You never even told me you were looking for jobs, much less ones in New York City!”

“Well, duh. What did you think I was going to do, mooch off you the rest of my life?” Daisy spit back.

Jemma recoiled. “I thought you would at least tell me that you were thinking of moving across the country. What am I supposed to do? Quit my job and follow you at a moment’s notice? Or were you just going to leave and not even talk to me about it?”

“I thought you’d be excited! This is a great job and I’d finally be pulling my own weight,” Daisy shouted, more confused than angry.

“Without me!” Jemma yelled, “We’re in a relationship. We’re supposed to talk about things like this together. Why did you hide this from me?”

“I didn’t…I didn’t actually think I would get it, I just wanted to see what would happen,” Daisy said. “What do you want me to do? Not take the job?”

“Yes! No. I—” Jemma huffed. “I don’t know, I just…I need a minute.”

She stalked off to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her. Daisy groaned and thumped her head against the wall. Eventually, she shuffled over to the answering machine and replayed the message to write down the call-back number.

Daisy hung around the kitchen and nibbled on a fingernail nervously. She and Jemma had never had a fight like that before. Sure, they occasionally fought about little things, like Daisy leaving paint lying around or Jemma stealing Daisy’s leftovers late at night. Those were insignificant and usually ended in sex, so they weren’t too bad.

But nothing like this. Daisy wasn’t used to people sticking around after a fallout and kept waiting for Jemma to charge out of the bedroom with a packed bag and leave forever.

But that wasn’t Jemma. And Daisy wasn’t about to let what they had fall apart over this. Not after everything they’d been through.

She gave Jemma a few more minutes of alone time and tiptoed over to the bedroom door. She tapped gently on it, but got no response.

“Jem? Can I come in?” Daisy asked tentatively. After a few seconds with no response, Daisy was preparing herself to sleep on the couch, when a whispered 'yes’ filtered through the door.

Jemma was curled up on her side on the bed, facing away from Daisy. The occasional muffled sniffles told Daisy that Jemma had been crying and it broke her heart.

She slipped into the bed behind Jemma and slowly scooted herself next to her. When she wasn’t forcibly shoved away like she was expecting, she curled up around Jemma and rested her hand on Jemma’s waist.

“I’m sorry,” Daisy whispered, “I really wasn’t trying to hide it. I just…wasn’t thinking. I’m still not used to this 'serious relationship’ thing, I guess.” Daisy nudged closer to Jemma’s back and rested her head in the crook of her neck. “I’ll call them back first thing and let them know I can’t take the job,” she mumbled.

Jemma sighed and rolled over to face Daisy. “I don’t want that. I’m sure it’s a great job and I know you’ve been wanting to get out of this city. I only wish this wasn’t the first time I had heard about it.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Jemma whispered, “But, now we can deal with this. Together.”

Daisy nodded. “Agreed.”

She leaned forward and kissed Jemma gently, and then smiled to herself.

“Hey, Jemma,” she muttered.

“Hm?”

“We just survive our first big fight.”

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

They kept their promise to each other to deal with the new job situation together. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as seamless at Daisy would have hoped. Jemma couldn’t get away from the work she was doing for the university until at least the end of the semester, and then still had to find a job in New York City. So far, her hunt had hit a dead-end.

Daisy, however, couldn’t put off the start of her job and would have to move without her. As much as it would kill them to be apart for so long, they would have to make it work for now. They both promised each other that it wouldn’t end like the last time they were separated.

Daisy found a small apartment that she could afford on her single salary for now, and threw herself straight into work for a graphic design company that contracted out artists to client companies. The work was mind-numbing at times and she called Jemma nearly every night to complain about her thickheaded clients, but she was at least doing work she enjoyed and had many opportunities in New York to find an audience for her art.

Jemma continued to work at the university laboratory, apply for research-based positions in New York, and coordinate with Daisy when they would have a free weekend to visit one another.

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

Jemma’s phone rang early one morning while she was eating breakfast. Well, it was a reasonable hour for herself, but for most of the population, it was early. It was especially early for Daisy, who’s name was the one that popped up on caller ID.

“Hello?” Jemma greeted.

“Hey.” Daisy sounded breathless on the other line. “Remember how we talked about you having a free weekend coming up? I really think you should come up here.”

“Alright, why the urgency, though?” Jemma replied.

Daisy was quiet for a moment and seemed to be catching her breath. “I got a gig at a gallery! I get to use the entire gallery to display some of my projects!”

“Daisy, that’s wonderful!”

“I know! This is gonna be such a great opportunity. All the best people are gonna be at the opening,” Daisy rambled. “So can you make it?”

“I’ll book my plane ticket immediately.”

The silence on the other line didn’t concern Jemma, because Daisy was probably just fist-pumping the air.

“I’m so excited. I can’t wait to see you,” Daisy finally responded. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

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

A few phone more phone calls later and they pinned down the details for the trip. Jemma’s flight was getting in the morning of the gallery opening, so she and Daisy would have some time to explore the city together.

The minute she landed and turned her phone back on, their plans were upended by a text from Daisy.

Super super sorry, but I can’t get out of work til later :( I left a key under the mat at my apartment so you can drop your stuff and nap. Sry ily

Jemma huffed, but understood and went to gather her things at baggage claim. When she went to hail a cab, she notice a nicely dressed man standing near the exit holding a sign that read Jemma Simmons.

Jemma frowned and approached him. At least Daisy spared her from having to trek through New York City with all of her bags.

“Mrs. Simmons, I presume?” the man asked.

“Miss, but yes,” she replied, adjusting her bags.

The man smiled. “My mistake. Can I grab your bags for you?”

The driver loaded her things into a sleek black car and opened the rear door for her to enter.

Once on the road, Jemma couldn’t help but ogle everything she drove past. The massive buildings sparkled in the morning sun and every variety of cafe seemed tucked into the lower floors of them. Cars choked the streets, allowing Jemma plenty of time to stare and memorize the source of every mouth-watering smell that she wanted Daisy to take her to.

Even more than the cars, was the sheer amount of people, bustling this way and that. How they could even move with some many people cramming the sidewalks was a miracle.

They passed through Times’ Square and the blinding lights from every corner dazed her momentarily.

They finally pulled up to Daisy’s apartment building, which Jemma recognized from the pictures she had sent when she first moved in. It was nothing compared to the glitz and glamor of the center of the city, but it seemed cozy enough.

The driver unloaded Jemma’s things for her onto the sidewalk and bid her a good day. Jemma rifled through her purse for some cash to give him a tip, but he had returned to the car and sped off before she could find it.

Strange, Jemma thought, but, then again, Daisy is always saying how weird New Yorkers are.

Jemma shrugged and headed towards the elevator.

Sure enough, a small key was tucked under the welcome mat in front of Daisy’s apartment. It still had enough of Daisy’s form of personalization scattering the floor and stuck to the walls to remind Jemma with a pang of their shared apartment. Jemma called Daisy’s name, hoping she would have made it home by now, but found the apartment empty.

She grumbled to herself, a bit annoyed that Big City Girl Daisy couldn’t seem to spare any time for her girlfriend who she dragged up to see her. She tossed her things in a corner in Daisy’s bedroom and headed to the kitchen to find a snack. A small piece of folded paper was propped up on the counter when she got there. Jemma snatched it and found another apology, but this one included cash.

Dear Jemma, sorry again I’m flaking out. I have a few more things to wrap with the gallery before the opening tonight. Here’s some cash so you can get yourself a nice lunch. There’s a diner two blocks down that you might like. The Wi-Fi password is Alhambra.

Also, I included a bit extra so you can go down to the boutique on 7th and get something nice to wear tonight. You get to be my arm candy after all ;) See you tonight. Sry and ily.

Daisy

Jemma rolled her eyes. She wasn’t really interested in seeing the sights in New York alone, but she probably should get a nicer dress for the evening. She had a feeling that 'nice’ was a different standard at a New York gallery opening than anything in Jemma’s college town. She snatched the cash and the spare key and headed back out the door.

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

Despite what Jemma told herself, she did go see some of the attractions near Daisy’s apartment. She found a nice souvenir stand where she bought herself a mini Statue of Liberty magnet and a foam hat that she was going to make Daisy wear everywhere tomorrow. Then she headed down to the boutique that Daisy had mentioned to find a nice outfit.

She picked out a flattering sparkly dress that, normally, she would never buy for herself, but she wanted to impress the people coming to see Daisy. If it made Daisy drool over her and regret leaving her alone all day, that was just a bonus.

When it got close to the start of the event, Jemma was fully dressed and made up and Daisy was still nowhere to be found. Jemma was starting to worry that something might have happened to her, when her phone buzzed with another message from Daisy.

Hey things got crazy so I’ve got to stay at the gallery until it opens. There will still be a car by the apartment to come pick you up at 6:30.

Jemma frowned and typed back, Did you just have plans with your new girlfriend all day?

Jemma was mostly joking, but the lack of response way worrying. Sure, she figured Daisy was busy with the gallery and all, but it wasn’t like Daisy to be so cagey.

The car pulled up in front of the building at 6:30 on the dot, with the same driver who picked her up from the airport. He held the car door open for her, told her she looked 'ravishing,’ and then hopped in the driver’s seat.

The drive was mostly silent, with Jemma being too grumpy to initiate conversation and the driver too occupied with not crashing into every person who cut them off.

The gallery they pulled to a stop in front of was small, which Jemma expected. What she hadn’t expected was the dimness of the light filtering through the windows facing the street. Inside, Jemma could see a few small spotlights pointed at framed works on the wall that were much smaller than what Daisy usually created.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Jemma asked the driver.

He just nodded with a smile. “Daisy’s waiting for you inside.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Jemma was expecting a bit more fanfare about a gallery opening, even one this small, but there didn’t appear to be anyone here yet.

She pushed through the door and strode into the gallery, her slightly uncomfortable heels clicking loudly on the wood floors. She peered around corners looking for Daisy, or really any other person, but didn’t see anyone, so she paced around and looked at Daisy’s art.

Then, Jemma was more confused. Everything framed and stuck to the walls was just doodles on the back of a receipt of a gum wrapper. It wasn’t the kind of work that would normally be put up in a gallery.

“Do you like them?” a familiar voice called out behind her.

Jemma spun around and saw Daisy, dressed to the nines, slowly walking towards her.

“I…I guess. I’m just a little confused,” Jemma admitted. “And where is everyone? I thought you said everyone important would be here.”

“They are,” Daisy replied, her eyes fixed solely on Jemma. “Let me show you around.” This wouldn’t be the first time Daisy had to explain the intricacies of her art to Jemma. Just like Daisy took awhile to grasp microscopic biochemical processes, Jemma was not adept at interpreting art.

Daisy just smiled. “Don’t you recognize them?”

Jemma furrowed her brow. Why would she recognize doodles on gum wrappers? Daisy guided her back to the one by the door. It was a crumpled gum wrapped that had been laid flat with two poorly-drawn stick figure girls sitting in desks speaking. There was a tiny plaque under it with the title First Words.

It still wasn’t any clearer to Jemma, so Daisy took her hand and walked to the next one. This one was a lined piece of paper, clearly ripped out of a notebook, that had the same two girls at a long table, but one had some red scribble in her mouth and was titled Spaghetti Challenge. Jemma chuckled, since that one reminded her of the time in high school where Daisy had been dared to cram an entire spaghetti order into her mouth.

Daisy moved onto the next one and the pattern started to dawn on Jemma. The picture was on another gum wrapper and featured a small blue car and one of the girls leaving in it. The background was a wide road that faded into the distance where there was a big castle labelled College. The other girl had a small broken heart above her head. Daisy scratched her ear nervously and moved onto the next wall.

There was apparently quite a time skip here and the art style drastically improved. This one was drawn on a scrap of the same sturdy paper Daisy left lying around their apartment all the time for her class projects. It was a doodle of the two girls, which now that they had more fleshed out features, Jemma could tell were herself and Daisy, hugging in a café while another figure (presumably Bobbi) stole their food.

The next was a situation that Jemma recognized as one of their Friday movie nights in Daisy’s and Bobbi’s dorm, but she didn’t recognize the exact context. There seemed to be an astronaut sitting next to Jemma and Daisy was throwing tiny daggers at him. It was labelled Jealousy.

Jemma shot Daisy a curious look, but she just grinned and walked on.

The one that followed was obviously a focal point, with its multiple spotlights and larger frame. This one was also ripped out of a sketchbook, but it was a larger page and contained more detail. The simple, stick-figure style was the same but it had a light colored pencil gradient sketched into the sky above the two girls in a pool in an open field. Some flecks of white paint made up the stars accompanied by a single streak of white for a meteor. The plague underneath read Best Meteor Shower Ever. Jemma smirked at the memory.

The pattern continued. Sketches of Daisy and Jemma’s first date, second date, third date, that time Daisy made Jemma think she had gruesomely injured herself while making spaghetti, rendered in gory detail with vicious strokes of a red pen, the time Jemma made Daisy snort soda out of her nose with a particularly bad pun. Every landmark of their relationship scratched out in minimalist form on the backs of gum wrappers, receipts, take-out menus, etc. Basically, anything Daisy could get her hands on at the time.

Jemma circled the gallery in awe. Daisy had kept these scraps of memories for years, almost a decade in some cases, and documented everything.

Jemma circled back to the beginning of the display and noticed a solitary frame in the middle of the back wall. There were multiple spotlights aimed at this one lonely picture, as well as one pointed at the floor a few feet away. Jemma moved closer to the tiny scrap framed on the wall so she could see the detail.

It was on a gum wrapped that was pressed so flat, all the creases had been carefully ironed out. The two girls were again the main feature.

One was standing in the middle of an art gallery looking shocked.

The other was in front of her, down on one knee.

Jemma gasped and whirled around. She hadn’t noticed Daisy drop her hand or leave her side, but she slipped away while Jemma was entranced with reliving their memories.

Now, Daisy knelt in the middle of the strategically placed spotlight, with a small velvet box in her shaking hands. Daisy pulled a smirk, but Jemma could tell it was wavering and she was cripplingly nervous.

Daisy opened and closed her mouth a few times before frowning amusedly at herself. “You know, I had this whole romantic spiel planned out once I got to this point, but…I kinda just forgot the whole thing.” Her eyes sparkled with happy tears. “And you crying definitely isn’t helping.”

Jemma hadn’t even realized that she had tears rolling down her cheeks. She gave a watery laugh and stepped towards Daisy.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, you know,” Jemma teased.

Daisy chuckled. “I know. But with all the crap we’ve been through, the one thing I’ve known the whole time, without a doubt…is that you and I belong together.”

That was it for Jemma. The tears flowed even more freely down her face as she threw her arms around Daisy’s neck. Daisy huffed a short laugh, but Jemma could tell from the dampness on her shoulder that Daisy was crying too.

“So, is that a yes?” Daisy muttered into Jemma’s neck.

Jemma laughed breathlessly. “Of course it’s a yes.”

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

Wise men say, only fools rush in.

But I can’t help falling in love with you.

The minute the first chords of the song played, Daisy hoisted up the front of her dress and squeezed through the crowd toward Jemma. Jemma was sprawled out across two chairs at the 'in-laws’ table, her bare feet propped up on one and her discarded high heels tucked underneath it. Any other time, Daisy would have stopped just to watch her giggling into her glass of champagne with her family around her—now Daisy’s family as well, she realized with a jolt—but right now, she was on a mission.

“Can I steal you for a dance?” Daisy asked, extended a hand to Jemma. Jemma turned her flushed face towards Daisy and beamed. She set her glass down on the table and rose to meet Daisy with more grace than Daisy was expecting, given the amount of champagne Jemma had already consumed. Still, she took Daisy’s hand and strolled out to the center of the dance floor beside her.

Like a river flows surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Somethings are meant to be

Take my hand, and take my whole life, too

The standard hold for a partner dance was too distant for both Daisy and Jemma’s tastes, so they smushed the combined bulk of both of their white dresses together and held each other in a hug-like embrace while they swayed on the floor. All the practice they had done in Daisy’s cramped apartment the preceding weeks was unnecessary. It didn’t matter how they looked or how well they could waltz.

All that mattered was that Daisy now could hold Jemma, her wife, as tight as she wanted and nothing was going to take her away. As Daisy glanced out the windows of the banquet hall, over the bright city lights that glistened off every surface, Daisy started to understand why Jemma loved this sappy song.

So won’t you please

Take my hand, and take my whole life, too.

'Cause I can’t help falling in love

In love with you

'Cause I can’t help

Falling in love

With

You.

The End.

#strangegameprofessor #skimmons #bioquake #jemma simmons/daisy johnson #can't help falling in love #Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.#fluff #like super fluff

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threecheersforprocrastination · 6 years

Text

Sarcasm At It’s Best - Chapter One

https://inkitt.app.link/RA_KmmyGThank you for reading this fiction! If you like it, click the link at the bottom to read the whole thing!

+++++++++__

"YOU'RE WHAT!?"

Oh no. This can't be happening!

"I said, I'm moving to Malibu in California." He replied calmly, not flinching at all as I abruptly erupted into yelling.

"When was this extraordinarily atrocious plan decided on!?"

Why? Why!? What did I do to deserve this!? I've been good! I have! Except maybe for that time I punched Alyssa... Or that time I made fun of that football player's height... Or that time I TP'd the principles car...

"My parents just decided it yesterday. We will be leaving next week. They already enrolled me at a high school there and everything." My best friend, Matt, says to me.

"But what about baseball, huh!? They already had tryouts! Going now would mean not being able to play!" I argue loudly, waving my hands around in the air like a mad woman and not caring if I fall off my surfboard.

"We got them to let me tryout anyways. Since it's the last two weeks of summer, they said I could still make the team." He shrugs, running his hand over the surface of the water.

Shrugs? SHRUGS!? Does he not realize the world is over!

"Well, what about your life!? Your history? You've lived here your whole life! Leaving now would mean abandoning everything! Abandoning me! What about your past!? Have you no honor?!" I exclaim melodramatically, feeling the swell of a wave begin to build as Matt and I sit on our boards.

He sighs and runs a hand through his damp hair. "I know! It's not my decision! My dad was assigned by his company to supervise the building of a high rise in Los Angeles. We don't have a choice!"

I groan and throw my head back. "But what am I going to do? You are leaving me to deal with the snooty people, obnoxious aroma, and pointless drama, on my own! Just send me to my death now!" Honestly, it's like he wants me to get suspended this year.

I came pretty close to getting a suspension last year because of our old buddies. Without him here, I'm destined to get in trouble.

How fantastic.

He chuckles and gives me a crooked smile. "C'mon, Averly, we both know that you have more wit than anybody in the school and are more than willing to get in a fight with somebody."

I sigh and pout, looking out at the ocean before us. "Well... Just because sarcasm is my first language doesn't mean I won't miss you."

I feel tears prick the back of my eyes as I imagine senior year--the year Matt and I had promised to make unforgettable--being spent without my best friend. All the pranks we planned, all the nights we would go surfing, all the classes he would copy my homework for: it all would never happen. There was nothing I could do.

That realization hit me hard.

"Hey, are you crying?" Matt asks me, almost disbelievingly. I look at him confused until I felt the dampness of my cheeks. I wiped my hand over my cheek roughly, only to find that a few tears had fallen from my eyes.

Great. Just great. Now I'm an emotional wreck who can't keep herself from bawling like an over-dramatic soap-opera star.

"No." I say stubbornly, rubbing my cheeks as I cry more. "I'm sweating through my eyes." To make a point, I took a deep breath, huffing as I cleared away the non-stopping tears.

"Averly..." Matt said, apology and sadness clear in his tone. "You know that I wouldn't be doing this to you if I had a choice."

I sighed dramatically and continue to rub under my eyes, getting more and more frustrated as the tears continued. Why couldn't they just stop already. I get it, I'm sad. You can stop now, stupid tears. "Curse emotions and life." I say, my voice cracking at the end.

Matt breathed out sadly--if breathing with emotion is even possible--and rested a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. The slow bobbing of the water helped calm me down--somewhat. The simple rhythm of the ocean beneath me steadied my solemn heart, despite the dangers that I know to lurk in it. "I'm sorry." He said sorrowfully.

I nod my head and place my hand upon his own, giving it a slight squeeze as I give him a sad smile. "Just promise you'll keep in touch and won't become some pretty boy who can't catch a wave." I say, trying desperately to lighten up the dark mood around us.

As much as it pains me, I'll try and be happy for you. It's the least I can do for someone I owe so much to.

He laughs and puts his hand back on his board. "I promise, Ave. Besides, you would miss me too much if I didn't keep in touch. And I hope you know, if I were to get worse at surfing, it would just be so you can catch up to all this awesomeness." He says cockily. Gesturing toward his wetsuit-clad self.

I chuckle and punch his shoulder, shaking my head in disbelieve. "Shut up! You wish you were ahead of--look out!"

With that, we were both trampled by a wave. Fortunately, there wasn't a row of waves to quite possibly drown us. That would have really been a downer on things. Unfortunately, I lost the rubber band holding my hair back. It was my last hairband.

Well isn't that just peachy.

++++++++++++++++++++

"Hey, Aveywavy." Maddy La Bitchface mockingly cooed at me, tugging at my hair annoyingly to get my attention.

Oh did I get her last name wrong? My apologies.

I sighed as I shut my locker and turned to give a bored expression to Madalyne (weird spelling I know) Hempton.

"Maddy, for the last time, don't call me that. It's makes people question your intellectual capabilities as a not-so-outstanding citizen in the blessed country of America." I sassed her, internally wishing I could just go back to the water and ride my own wave.

It beats being in the governmental institution designed to drain children of all individuality and freedom.

Isn't school just lovely?

"Do I look like I care if I'm a good citizen?" She retorted angrily, hating it when I have her attitude.

It was always like this. Even when she claimed to be my friend.

I rolled my eyes and turned, walking down the hallway towards my next class.

School started about two months ago. Matt left one week after our conversation in the ocean, leaving me to, so far, have the worst senior year in the history of senior years. Maddy and her twin brother, Mikey, took it upon themselves to make my time here miserable as hell, making me hate school all the more.

I really miss my best friend. I only did another year because I thought it was going to be with him.

"Aww, is Aveywavy sad? I would be sad. Especially when my best friend doesn't even love me enough to spend senior year with me." She yells after me, knowing very well how to get under my skin.

I froze in my steps at the words, allowing myself to fall victim to her challenge.

Oh, she is so dead.

I drop my bag and spin around, facing the materialistic, rude, annoying, red-head in front of me. She smirked at me devilishly as my actions affirmed that her cruel words were successful in bothering me.

Bring it on, Princess.

++++++++++++++++++++++

"Really, Ave? Again?" My mother questions me exasperatedly as I slide into the passenger seat.

I shrug as I shut the door and pull on my seatbelt. It had started to drizzle outside, making me thankful that I jumped into the car when I did. Lord knows how much I hate rain. "What? She was asking for it."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you go and get yourself suspended for trapping a girl's hair in a locker door!" She retorts agitatedly, giving me a frustrated glare as she started the engine of her lovely little Prius.

Matt hates Priuses, I thought humorously to myself as we left the parking lot and began the monotonous drive home.

I ball my hands into fists when I think about my best friend, or, the absence thereof. If he were here, I wouldn't be suspended right now. "Mom, my life sucks here, did you know that? Ever since Matt left, I have been insulted, taunted, and made fun of. You know how much I really dislike people who do that. I hate my senior year this year. I hate it because the one person I wanted to spend it with is in California, enjoying sunny skies and senior year without me!" I yell, hitting the dashboard with my fist in anger.

"Averly! There is no need to be so angry! At least, not to the point where you abuse Bianca!" My mother scolded me, smacking my hand as she did so. I rolled my eyes at her, muttering under my breath as she rubbed the dashboard in a soothing way. "It's okay, girl, mommy won't let anyone get away with hurting you."

I snorted at this, crossing my arms as I looked out the window. "Mom, naming your car is just weird."

She scoffed and gave me a look that said, 'you-can't-judge-me'. "Says the person who named her surfboard Tony."

I gasped. "Don't compare your car to the beauty that is Tony! He is way out of Bianca's league."

Mom rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything in reply. Silently, I thanked my mom. I was glad that she found some way to make me feel a little bit better when I needed it. Her love to make others smile was something that I deeply appreciated about her.

I am especially happy that she still smiles, after what happened with Dad and all.

We were driving up to our house when I saw it: Matt's old truck.

"Mom? Is that who I think it is?" I asked in a dumbfounded voice, staring as we came closer. As we approached the building that I called my home, the figure leaning against the car came into view. The image that appeared caused my breath to hitched in excitement.

Holy Chiz.

"MATT!" I exclaimed in joy, jumping out of the car as soon as it parked and barreling towards my long lost friend. I crashed into him, causing him to let out an 'oomph'.

Matt is here!

"Well, if I knew you would miss me this much, I would've taken you with me." An all to familiar voice said as two arms wrapped securely around me. In that simple moment, and with that simple gesture, I felt the calming of my mind and the warmth that only he could bring.

It finally felt complete.

However, what I always found so entertaining, was how Matt never realized how important he was to me. "Geez, woman! Have you been eating more!?" He grunts out, causing me to laugh out loud.

Leave to him to make me laugh so quickly; and to say something so crude upon first meeting.

"Shut up, you jack." I say and hit his chest playfully. Carefully, I unwrap myself from his embrace, taking a step back to get a better look of his face. "So, what are you doing here?"

He grins at me and crosses his arms. "Your mom called me a few days ago. She told me about how you've been getting in a lot of trouble with out me lately." Upon the last part, his smile seemed to dim some. "Is it true that you got suspended today?"

I rolled my eyes at this, knowing full well how much my mom worries about me. Even Matt could be overbearing at times. "I'm not in trouble too often." I replied with a grin, decided to not make a big deal out of how much I really missed him.

He barks out a somewhat bitter laugh. "Really? In the last month you've been in detention five times. You got suspended because you reached the limit of six today. Didn't you remember the warning last year?"

My eyes widened as the realization hit me that my troublemaking may have gone a bit overboard. Oh well, all of my actions were in response to other rude people, so you could say that they were justified... Somewhat. However, in order that my family not be to worried about me, I chose to play it off. "That many times! I'm on a roll!" I fist-pumped the air, trying to make a regretful looking Matthew Jones feel better.

My attempts were not very successful.

"You never use to get in trouble like this." He said, more to himself than me. Matt ruffled his damp hair--probably damp from the drizzle that stopped not too long ago--with his hand in frustrating way.

I sighed as guilt began to flood my emotions. I know I can to better, but it's hard when you aren't there to calm me down, or give me a reason to be calm. "Hey... I'm sorry... It's just been hard and-"

"I know. And I'm fixing that." He interrupts me, looking at me with determined eyes.

I raise an eyebrow at him. Oh, this ought to be interesting, I thought to myself. "You are? How?"

He grins widely at me after throwing a happy grin at my mother behind me. "You're moving to California with me."

++++++++++

https://inkitt.app.link/RA_KmmyG

#writing #ficton #fiction #humor #teenfiction #love #beyourself #tumblrwriting

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