#idk. i have a feeling the principal will reach out to me if nothing else. definitely the permanent teacher will | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

by-seven · 1 year

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Pretty please I was thinking Xavier Thorpe x Reader sort of based off ‘You Belong With Me’ By Taylor Swift and it’s basically just Xavier’s best friend pinning to him their entire lives and has to suffer in the side lines of him and Bianca’s relationship while their friendship slowly dies only to be reignited after Xay and Bianca break up and maybe ‘prom’ could be the Rave’N dance?

think i know it's with me (oneshot)

resp : this trope be hitting like a brick. idk if i can write it as good as it's supposed to feel but here's my take on it!!

word count: 3, 169 (what the actual fuck)

angst, fluff, Bianca is only mentioned

(i forgot about the prom thing oh my god)

You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset She's going off about something that you said 'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do

"Oh please, it wasn't even that bad. Your humor's not that great, Principal Weems could probably make me laugh faster than you ever could." you say in between bites of the pizza you were sharing with Xavier in the quad.

"I don't know, man. Principal Weems can't do the griddy as good as I can." he supplied, trying to sound present but you know from the slight scrunch of his eyebrows that he's thinking of something else.

Xavier Thorpe has been your friend ever since you were both still in your diapers. You could say best friend and it wouldn't be wrong but he'd probably disagree and call you his glorified armrest (given the fact that he could very easily rest his arm on the top of your head) to annoy you.

Right as you were about to do another dig at his (not-really-dry) sense of humor, his phone started ringing.

You rolled your eyes and looked away after Xavier gave you a look that spelled out i'm sorry i have to take this call and also help me i think i'm fucked.

He was right, he was incredibly fucked. That one annoying ringtone has served as an omen of an impending argument with his oh so perfect siren goddess girlfriend, Bianca Barclay.

Looking back at him and finding him still looking at you, you raise your brows in question, "Go ahead, Xavier. Answer the call of the hell-bringer."

Breathing in and doing a heavy sigh, Xavier answered the call. The phone wasn't even on speaker but Bianca's voice sounded like it came out of a megaphone.

"That was way out of line, Xavier! You may be my boyfriend but it doesn't give you the right to make fun of my appearance."

"Bianca, I literally only said that your eyes looked like that one Miley Cyrus meme. It's not that deep." You had to hold in a laugh as you heard the incredibly shallow reason that sparked the argument.

"But if it made you feel bad, then I'm sorry. I..." you turn to him with a look of confusion, after all why is he apologizing when he did nothing wrong? But Xavier just met your gaze and then looked away. "I apologize."

"This is the second time this week that you've made me feel bad, Xavier."

Getting frustrated you stand up and fix your uniform, getting ready to leave your best friend to talk with Bianca. Xavier notices, looks up at you and grabs you by the wrist. He mouths, 'please stay.'

Taken back by the sudden touch of his hand on yours, you froze where you stood.

"I know, I'm really sorry. Let's meet at the Weathervane tomorrow? Grab some coffee and talk about it."

You harshly forced your hand out of his and walk away, heading to your room. Upon reaching the doors to the dormitories, you hear footsteps behind you. Turning around, you were faced with Xavier.

Panting and standing right in front of you closely (too fucking close), he opens his mouth to speak. Before he could, though, you turned back around and made your way up the stairs.

"Hey, hey." He calls after you but you just continued to go up the stairs.

He calls your name and grabs your hand, and that made you stop. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong is you forgetting about our plans for tomorrow, Xavier. We were gonna celebrate my debate win, remember?" You wince, realizing how bad your words sound. They sound so desperate, so trivial.

"I promise I'll make it up to you. I just.. I really need to fix this stuff with Bianca."

You hummed in response, but nodded anyway. After all, you didn't have the right to be mad.

Xavier lets you go, sensing that you need some time alone to process your emotions. You make your way to your room, thankful that Yoko wasn't there to witness the emotions you let out.

The friend can't compete with the lover after all.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like And she'll never know your story like I do

The day after, Xavier got back from the Weathervane exhausted. The remnants of his date making their presence known with the way he speaks during your phone call.

Not wanting to tire him further, you settled for a Spotify session instead. You two take turns showing each other songs that the other might like and adding them to a collab playlist. It's become a habit of yours to sketch while on Spotify sessions with Xavier, so along with the music came the faint scratching of your pencil on paper.

You had to listen with your headphones though, as Yoko was also doing something on her side of the room and you don't want to disturb her.

"Okay, okay but listen to this one by Matt Maltese." You say as you changed the song from Fallen Star by The NBHD to Everyone Adores You.

Everybody thinks of you when they sleep at night

When I say 'everybody', I'm actually referring to me

As you hum along, a faint echo of the song plays from the room in front of yours. Across your window, Xavier was listening along.

"That was another good one. I have one that I think you'll like up next but don't look at the queue."

"Hmm? Okay, if you say so."

The song you played comes to an end and a song by Cigarettes After Sex starts to play. Your sketching stopped, seemingly in sync with the increase of your heartbeat.

Opera House was playing as you placed you pencil down and closed you eyes.

"So, do you like it or...?" Xavier asks after the obnoxious loss of your rambling.

He calls your name out again, and you notice how it sounds so different coming from him. How it sounded so divine, like it was a sound made just for him to speak.

"Ah, um. Yeah, I love it, actually. I didn't know you listened to Cigarettes After Sex?" you ask, trying to fill in the silence on your part.

"I've just started listening to them. Noticed you liked them a lot so I decided to give them a try."

You hum in response, unable to focus as you process the lyrics of the song.

I was meant to love you and always keep you in my life I was meant to love you, I knew I loved you at first sight

Did he listen to the lyrics before? Or did he just send you this because he liked the way it sounds? So many questions popping up, one after another. You snapped out of it when you heard him calling your name again.

"Bianca's calling me.." He says reluctantly, waiting for your reply.

"Oh, okay. Um, it's fine. It's getting late anyway. Have a good talk. Good night, Xavier."

"Thanks for tonight. Bye." The end-tone plays momentarily. You take off your headphones and tidy up your table.

"Are you sure you two are not dating?" "HOLY FUCK!" "Cause like, that's definitely not just-friends behavior." Yoko blurted out of nowhere, startling you.

"NO! No, definitely not. He's dating Bianca." You say as you make your way to your bed.

"Oh, shame. You two would've made a better couple."

We would've. We could've. But I just didn't have the guts to tell him how I feel.

"Hmm." You hummed in reply. "Good night, Yoko."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself Hey, isn't this easy?

"Anyways, I just feel like Miss Thornhill's too stressed about the RaveN. She's been dropping things a lot during class right?" You say as you kick the poor lonesome pebble you found on the pavement along with you as you walk on the campus paths.

"Dude, I got startled when she dropped that pot with the black dahlia. Heard she was taking good care of it too." Xavier replies, to which you chuckled because to say he was startled is an understatement.

"Startled? You literally kissed the table when it happened, that's what you get for dozing off."

"The table was lucky that day then."

"Oh please, you think too highly of yourself."

"The truth is the truth."

"And all you've been saying are lies. Anyway, we're here. Let's sit down before we miss it!" You say as you approach the bench facing away from the main building. The sky was clear and there were no obstructions blocking your view of it. You both sat on the bench and looked up, waiting for the meteor shower.

You take your earphones and plug it in your phone. You look to your side and see Xavier holding out his hand, asking for the other earbud.

"Oh my fucking god. The Xavier Thorpe asking to share earphones with a girl that's not his girlfriend? I can imagine Sinclair's face if she finds out. And Bianca's too." You exclaim jokingly as you hand him an earbud.

"Everyone knows we're close friends, so it doesn't really matter."

friends. doesn't really matter.

"Oh, yeah." You hope you didn't sound disappointed. " Of course."

You put your playlist on shuffle and look up at the sky as Affection by Cigarettes After Sex plays.

It's affection always, You're gonna see it someday My attention's on you Even if it's not what you need

I think of you, I want you too, I'd fall for you

The universe is cruel, you concluded. Why would this song play, out of all the songs in your playlist, right now? At this very moment, when you're alone with your best friend whom you've liked for years now. it's like a forceful confession brewed by the universe.

"Look! It's so pretty." You exclaim, pointing to the first glimmer of light from the sky.

"I know, it really is pretty."

You look at Xavier, finding him not looking up at the sky but at you. He quickly looks up though, but you still caught the way his eyes lingered just a bit too long on yours.

Maybe the universe isn't that cruel after all.

"By the way..." "Hmm?" "I know I promised you that we'd go to the RaveN together this year, but.."

And there it is, but. You didn't have to guess to know why.

"Bianca wanted to be my date for this year. I hope you understand."

You look away, trying to make the sting from your eyes go away. It was expected, how could you be so dumb to even think that he'd go with you?

"Yeah, it's fine. I figured you'd go with her. Have fun at the party then." You looked back at him after wiping your eyes, hoping that the tears weren't obvious.

"Tha- wait. What do you mean 'have fun at the party'? Your'e not going?" He asks, his face and voice laced with confusion (and disappointment, but maybe you'd imagined it).

"No, I'd look so miserable going alone. Plus, I have to finish my book." You give him a smile, hoping that it looks genuine.

"Are you sure? I can ask Ajax to take you-"

"God no, Enid would claw my eyes out." You laugh, but it sounded dry. "I promise, it's fine."

"Nothing I can do to change your mind? I can ask Bianca if I can go with you."

"No, Xavier. You have to go with her, she's your girlfriend after all. I'm just your friend, you should go together."

You tried not to take notice of the way your own words stung. (And how it seems to have hurt Xavier too, the way his brow scrunched when you said just friends was not exactly subtle)

"Oh, okay. Yeah, you're probably right." He sighs and looks up at the sky. You look up too.

"Fuck, clouds covered our view."

"We should probably get inside, it's 3am. And it's starting to drizzle." You say, standing up. The drizzle was staring to get heavier and your clothes were getting wet. you were pretty sure you were gonna get a cold.

You noticed Xavier taking off his coat and before you could protest, he's already put it over your head to shield you form the rain.

"But what about you?" You ask him, worried.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." He assured you. You then made your way back to the dormitories.

Xavier insisted on dropping you off right at your door, so that's what he ended up doing.

"Thanks for the botched meteor shower observation, idiot. And thanks for letting me borrow your coat."

"Wow, some actual kind words from you? The world must be in trouble." He says sarcastically.

"Oh, shut up Thorpe. You should get going now, we have a 7am period tomorrow."

"Oh fuck you're right! Bye."

"Night." You say as he turns to leave. You close the door gently, so as not to wake Yoko.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

And you've got a smile That can light up this whole town I haven't seen it in a while Since she brought you down You say you're fine, I know you better than that Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

"Hey, you okay?" You ask Xavier. You're getting worried, he' s been in a sour mood all day. Not even bothering to talk to you, or to anyone at all. You knew it had something to do with Bianca, as you heard them screaming at each other in his room.

"Yeah, 'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Like, really sure?"

"Damn it, I said I'm fine okay?! Why can't you understand that? You're getting so annoying, it's so infuriating. Why can't you understand that not everyone wants your sunshine personality all the time? You are so irritating."

Frozen in your seat, you look at him with wide eyes. Xavier has never lashed out on anyone, especially at you. So this caught you by surprise.

You didn't even notice you were crying until he looked at you. His face was a mixture of shock and disbelief (you hope it was aimed at himself).

He says your name, but it didn't sound nice anymore. It sounded like a bad omen, like a dark cloud that promises a storm and you were a girl with a body made of paper.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"I didn't mean to annoy you. I'm sorry, I'll leave." You say, frantically walking to your own room. You were walking too fast, your eyes blurred by your tears that you tripped on the stairs. You had a cut on your forehead, but the physical pain couldn't combat the pain you felt inside you.

As you curled up in your bed, missing your classes for the rest of the day, you hoped that Xavier would show up at your door. Knowing him, he'd probably apologize a thousand times.

You waited hours, the mid-afternoon light fading into the bluish glow that 6pm brings but Xavier still hasn't knocked.

Maybe you never really knew him after all.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You were looking at the sky from the rooftop of the academy, watching the sunset paint the sky with different shades of love.

Purple. Blue. Red. Orange. Pink

You feel the presence of another coming up from behind you, making you turn around and whip your arm out as a defense mechanism.

Xavier catches your hand, lowers it but never letting you go. His hold loosening but his touch never leaving.

You look at him properly, his eyes heavy with tiredness. It's been a week after he lashed out on you. A week of no contact. A week of pure torture. Within a week, the cut on your forehead has now turned from red to a dark brown. The cut on your heart hasn't healed as fast the the one on your forehead.

"Let go." You ask him but he doesn't budge.

"Xavier, let go. Please." And then he did. Your arms now hung uselessly beside your body, and you hate the way they crave the warmth of his hands.

He says your name, it feels like a trigger as been pulled and the gun was pointed at your chest.

"Please-"

"I heard about what happened. If you're here to blame me for your breakup with Bianca, then leave. She's already done that, I don't need you to repeat the shit she said."

"Listen, I'm sorry. Yes, we broke up but this is not about that."

"Then what is this about?"

"Us. About me and you. I'm sorry I said all those hurtful things to you. I didn't mean to hurt you, I wouldn't dare to hurt you. I was just so stressed, with Bianca and the truth."

"What do you mean, Xavier? Stop speaking in riddles."

"Bianca. I think she used her abilities on me. I saw her siren song one of her friends to do what she wants and I realized that what if she did it to me? It all makes sense, when I'm with her it's like my body is on autopilot. Like, I can't control the things I do. But when I'm with you it's like I'm myself, you know? I was so fucking confused, but now I see the truth."

You couldn't speak. Couldn't even utter a single word. To say you were speechless is an understatement.

Xavier steps closer to you, the tips of your shoes touching. He holds your arm with one hand gently and tips your head up to meet his gaze with the other.

"It's you. It's always been you. Whenever I wanted to draw or paint, I'd find myself making portraits of you. I started listening to the songs you liked. I turn around when I hear your name. God, it was so fucking obvious. It's you."

His hand slides down from your arm to your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

"I think I know where I belong, now." He says, smiling. The most genuine smile you've even seen him give. And as you stare into his eyes, they seemed to pull you in.

You never learned how to swim but you wouldn't mind drowning in his eyes. You never liked to drink but you wouldn't mind getting intoxicated by his presence.

Xavier Thorpe, the man you've pined for. The man you've watched from the sidelines. The man you love, now finally yours.

You stared at his eyes, then at his lips. Before you could move, his lips meet yours and it's like an explosion of colors and all things nice. You bring your hands up to his hair, burying your fingers in the softness of them.

Breathless and lovesick, you break away from him and smile. Blissfully, you say:

"Think I know it's with me."

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe #reader insert #wednesday tv series #what the fuck i strayed away from my plotline #this doesn't make sense but i've already written it

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”

Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.

so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can

OMG FLASHBACK??

yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions

oh dear

Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE

EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES

???

RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!

ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us

?? ??????? ?????????????????????

so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol

OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!

A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]

so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that

-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect

LMAO

WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”

oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime

blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI

“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh

“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”

“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier

LSDKFJLSDKJFLK

“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI

(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)

so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”

and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”

“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas

dsfaelkjldkjgl

you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??

this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed

“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim

anyway so back to the unruly mob

not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap

oh wow the parents are out here too

is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys

MONOMA

so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this

anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW

and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/

it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”

so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez

OH MY GOD

MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED

OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT

truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand

“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao

(ETA:

WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)

“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason

narrator: they did not listen to reason

oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

hmm

this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol

(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)

oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively

“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako

lol uh

gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off

SDLFKJSL

“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”

so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH

OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY

not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that

-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!

sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech

never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him

THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK

“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth

so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol

#bnha 323 #uraraka ochako #rat principal #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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ootahime · 3 years

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analyzing every gojohime moment in the manga p2

part 1 is here :3

this post includes more excruciatingly long paragraphs so grab urself something and enjoy LOL

chapter 40

i know they’re not interacting in this panel but i still want to bring it up. i’m gonna give some context to this scene in case someone needs to jog their memory. so basically, mei’s ability to command crows is what allows the staff to observe the students from afar. however, gojo notices that there’s lack of footage where yuuji is and asks mei why that’s so. she tells him that they’re animals at the end of the day so she can’t control what they look at. he doesn’t believe her so he asks her whose side she’s on (for yuuji’s execution vs against yuuji’s execution) to which she responds with, “whose side? i’m on the side with money, of course. there’s no value in something that can’t be bought since you can’t exchange that for money.” in other words, she’ll always choose the side that offers her more money because she doesn’t care about how morally “correct” or “incorrect” something is. it’s not worth fighting for a cause that doesn’t benefit her in the long run which is why she views things that are unable to be bought (friendships, relationships, favors) as useless - they can’t be exchanged for money. it’s clear that gojo knows she’s not on his side because he replies with, “spoken from experience!” or “i wonder how much!” (translation varies). he says it out loud to perhaps let gakuganji know that he’s onto him. i find it interesting how utahime is in the panel as well with a “?” to express her confusion at his words. let’s overthink dissect that. why is she there in the first place? if the message was to let gakuganji know that gojo is aware of his ulterior motives then a panel with gakuganji and gojo would have sufficed. why add utahime with a question mark?

here’s a personal headcanon of mine that makes no absolute sense, but who cares? it makes me happy LOL. so let’s examine the panel. gojo’s face is more simplified and cartoonish with a grey background on top and some sort of white bubble surrounding the three characters. gakuganji is staring at utahime and gojo. in the official viz translation, he replies to mei with, “i wonder how much!”

normal and logical explanation: shading the principal by asking out loud how much mei was paid by him to avoid monitoring yuuji.

gojohime brainrot explanation:

mei: “there’s no value in something that can’t be bought since you can’t exchange that for money”

gojo: (in response) i wonder how much utahime’s love would cost if it did have a price.

utahime: ?

you’re probably thinking i’m delulu (true) BUT HEAR ME OUT. IT WOULD SOMEWHAT MAKE SENSE IN THIS CONTEXT...

mei’s saying seems to be what she lives by. relationships, love, friendships, etc. do not matter to her as this is evident when she ultimately abandons everyone in shibuya to escape to malaysia, selling all her stocks before japan’s economy goes down. she doesn’t care about anyone else. she even takes advantage of ui ui’s adoration for her. she contrasts utahime. utahime is loved by her students. children, especially teenagers, are picky when it comes to choosing the adults they admire and respect. while everyone trusts gojo, they do not respect him because of his childishness and overall absurdity. it’s refreshing to see how they always call him an idiot or have a -_- face when he’s around. when akutami says everyone absolutely adores utahime-sensei, it says a lot. we haven’t seen her interact with her students all that much, but she’s obviously close to them because she’s frequently arguing with momo. even a closed off person like mechamaru wanted to keep her away from danger. she most certainly expresses a lot of concern and care for her students, and gojo and her students can pick up on this.

i’ve talked about this in every post LOLOL but there’s a reason why he went to utahime first to help him investigate. utahime is a loyal person through and through. she would never do something that harms the students even if she was offered everything in the world. she values relationships above everything else. besides her concern for the students, how else was i able to come to this conclusion about her character? well, she got shoko to stop smoking because she was worried about how it might damage her friend’s health. from these two details, it’s obvious that she’s the complete opposite of mei.

maybe that’s why he calls her weak. she’s too selfless and compassionate in a world where every sorcerer is for themselves. the world is cruel as a sorcerer. no matter how hard you try to fight, in the end, you’ll always die alone. remember his talk with megumi after the baseball game? after witnessing megumi pull a sacrificial bunt to help his teammates advance, gojo has a talk with megumi about his attitude and potential. he says that being selfless and caring about others is not a bad thing, but in a world like this, where people always die alone, he is wasting his potential by being concerned with others. it’s okay to be selfish. this is why we see fierce independence in a lot of the sorcerers like mei, nanami, and gojo. they each have their own reasons as to why they work alone, but it’s still a common characteristic. i feel like utahime doesn’t have a selfish bone in her body. i speculate that her selflessness is the exact reason why she is being held back. during her mission to exorcise a grade 1 spirit by herself, the final task before being promoted to grade 1, she likely got distracted trying to help civilians out of danger and failed her mission. he’s right when he says she doesn’t have the guts to be the traitor, utahime doesn’t have it in her to do something so boldly solely for her own benefit.

after this long tangent, how does this relate to your headcanon, ootahime?

as you know, love is not transactional. you can’t pay someone to love you. what if gojo is asking himself how much it would cost to buy her love. hence, her confusion because she is oblivious to what he really means. it could be probable because gakuganji is observing not only gojo, but utahime as well. so what gojo says must involve her too, right?

or she could just be confused because his words seem out of place because she is unaware of what gakuganji is doing behind everyone’s back. that explanation makes sense for viz’s official translation but it doesn’t make sense when he says, “spoken from experience!” because his words make sense in that context. he’s basically saying that mei’s beliefs must be based on her past experiences so he understands why she feels this way. that’s an appropriate response to mei’s statement so i don’t see why utahime would be confused by this. unless i’m interpreting this whole scene completely wrong. in that case, whoopsies!

let me know if you’re confused because i’m willing to clarify. idk why but i found this really difficult to explain. maybe because i’m reaching so hard haha

chapter 40

he finds any way he can to tease her. they seem like a married couple watching a movie or something. does he take pride in being the only person she doesn’t get along with? i mean, she says it herself so he is aware she thinks he’s annoying, but he keeps picking on her anyway. he doesn’t even pick on his enemies this much LMAOOO i think the only other person he likes to make fun of is gakuganji but he does so because he doesn’t agree with his views. with utahime it’s different. he trusts her a lot and even looks out for her.

chapter 44

why are there two separate instances of gakuganji observing utahime and gojo’s interactions from afar? nah i’m just playing. he’s just looking because he’s concerned she’ll run into the semi-grade 1 curse he had for yuuji. OKAY BUT I NOTICED SOMETHING KINDA CUTE? whenever utahime says something suddenly, he always has those 3 little triangles near his head. it’s like he’s thinking, “oh! utahime is speaking, i must listen <3″ look at his face too. he’s looking at her like :O

this is also an example of her showcasing her concern for the students in front of gojo. i feel like he questions why she’s so caring because if it were him, he would have left the student to figure it out themselves. i really wonder how she would react if he answered her truthfully when she asked what he’d do if she were the traitor.

chapter 45

there’s not much to say here...they’re just cute. i know it’ll never happen but i’d like to see them fight side by side one day. i’m aware that gojo works best alone but i just want to see how they’d work together, okay? 😔

chapter 45

see the little triangles on his head again? UGH SO CUTE.

chapter 45

IS THIS NOT INTENTIONAL??? they share the same thoughts. he even finished her thought. mannnnnnnnnnnnn what is akutami doing? giving us false hope and stripping it away just for fun? making them work so well together for what??

chapter 52

cute how he looks out for her. i have nothing more to say LOL

chapter 53

notice how they’re sitting across from each other? HEHE

chapter 53

yet another instance of her caring for her students in front of gojo. in the anime she has the cutest expression when she says she’s glad the students are safe. i bet gojo saw that too. i also bet that she looks prettier from his point of view.

extra

from the manga and light novels, gojo and utahime are the ones that talk about sports the most. he most definitely chose baseball to cheer her up. it’s not a coincidence people!

i feel like i had a lot more to say but i completely lost my train of thought while writing this, especially with chapter 40. i’m once again writing this at 4 in the morning LOL........ please please please add on or share your thoughts! thank you for reading and sorry for any mistakes.

#gojohime #gouta #gojo x utahime

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herofics · 3 years

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Love in the fire rewrite

So Idk how many of you have read my first fic, but this is a rewrite of that. I cringe when looking at the first version, but I really wanted to make it better so this is my attempt at that. You can find the original here. I’ve never done a rewrite so Idk if I’m doing this right, but hey, it’s my fic I can do what I want with it. Also gender neutral reader in this version. If you compare this one to the original, I feel like you can also see that I write Bakugou differently, since so much time has passed and there has been a lot of character development between then and now.

Here is the description of the reader’s quirk: So basically it’s a fire healing quirk and I based this on the way a classic phoenix works. So the reader can burst out in flames and have great healing powers. Their tears can heal others and they can heal themselves at night. The wounds start burning and it’s really painful but it’s also super powerful. The bigger healing stuff happens at night, but smaller wounds repair pretty quickly. The quirk can’t regrow lost limbs or stuff like that, so you can kill them by suffocation, beheading and major blood loss, but it has to be a lot of blood.

It all happened in a blink of an eye. You hitting the ground, the villain looming over you with his blade and Bakugou turning around just in time to see the villain bring the blade down to your shoulder. The villain ripped the jagged blade out of your shoulder and brought it down again and again. You could see what was happening, you even struggled against it, but you didn’t feel any pain, which you thought to be very odd. The only thing you really felt, was that warm, wet feeling of your blood spreading through your clothes, an unfortunately familiar feeling for you.

Bakugou was terrified for you, the pain you must have been in, the terror you must have felt. He was trying to get to you, but the other villains kept getting in his way. Bakugou was blasting them away left and right, but there seemed to be no end to them. He knew you wouldn’t die because of your quirk, but that knowledge surely didn’t make it any easier for either of you.

However, you didn't feel any pain, none at all, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out, but it just never happened. The villain seemed to finally get bored of stabbing an unresisting body, and left to attack Bakugou. With the last of your strength, you grabbed the man’s ankle. Your grip was very weak, but enough for him to notice something was holding him back. The villain looked down on you, almost with pity in his eyes, but that was soon replaced by enraged glee. He knelt down and with one final swing, he plunged the knife into your wrist. The pain hit you like a lighting bolt. It was like all the pain you hadn’t felt in the moments before, came down on you, it felt like you would be in pain forever. You weren’t even yelling, you were just gasping for air.

“Oh, finally my quirk wore off” he said and clapped excitedly. “It’s a pain amplifier, if you were wondering. It reserves the pain for a while and then hits you with all of it at once, wonderful isn’t it?” he laughed.

Bakugou was probably the most angry he had ever been, but he also felt incredibly helpless. He couldn’t get to you, the one he loved and was supposed to protect. Then it pierced the air, your scream. He looked towards you and saw you writhing and screaming on the ground. At that moment he didn’t give a shit if he put someone in a coma for the rest of their life. He would do anything to make sure you would get out of this alive, so he bulldozed his way through the group of villains in front of him.

“Die you fucking bastards! Get the hell out of my way!” he yelled.

When he finally managed to clear all the villains out of his way, he ran to you, he ran as fast as he could. When he got to your trembling form, he realized how badly you were hurt, the amount of blood around you was immense. You had stopped making any kind of noise and were now just trembling on the ground. Bakugou picked you up and started running towards the school, he knew the only one who could ease the coming night for you was Recovery Girl, and he feared even she wouldn’t be much help. When he finally got to the school, you had fallen terrifyingly limp in his arms. He ran straight into Kirishima in his frenzied state.

“Bakugou? What the hell happened? Why do they look like that?” Kirishima asked, with clear panic in his voice.

“Move!” Bakugou growled at his friend and kept running.

When he finally reached the nurse’s office, he threw the door open. Recovery Girl jumped a little at the sudden noise, but when the elderly lady noticed what Bakugou was carrying, she jumped down from her chair and hurried to him.

“Lay them on the bed” she said while pointing to her right. “I’ll start the treatment immediately”

Bakugou was quiet, which was quite uncommon for him. He was seething with anger, sure, but he also felt helpless, it wasn’t a new feeling for him, but one he hated. He watched quietly as Recovery Girl finished with her treatment. When the elderly lady turned to him with a pained look on her face, he knew, he knew what you would have to endure tonight.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help them. I’m familiar with their quirk and I am sorry they have to go through that again”

“No! No!” Bakugou yelled and hit the table at the end of your bed, denting it. “You were supposed to help!”

“I did what I could. You are aware of their quirk, yes? I know it will be hell tonight, but they will be alright”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks for nothing” he hissed.

Bakugou was ushered to the corridor, while Recovery Girl and another nurse cleaned your wounds and stitched and bandaged you up. He was sitting on the floor and banging his head against the wall behind him. When Recovery Girl stepped to the hallway, she told Bakugou she would inform the principal of what had happened. He was allowed back in the room, but he should avoid unnecessarily touching you.

You looked so pale laying there laying there. You were breathing very shallowly and you looked like you could drop dead at any moment. He knew what the next night would hold for you. That unbearable pain of your quirk putting your body back together, wound by wound, cell by cell. He hadn’t seen it himself, but you had told him about it before. The last time your quirk had to activate and heal you, he could hear the screaming outside the school building and he had been nowhere near the nurse’s office at the time.

Bakugou sat down next to your bed. He felt tired now that all the adrenaline had worn off and he hated it. He hated that he wasn’t able to spare you from the pain to come. Someone opened the door and the little noise it made, made Bakugou look up from you. It was that damn Deku and the rest of the extras.

“Get the hell out!” he yelled at them, but none of them listened.

Most of the class bursted into the room, speaking frantically and asking Bakugou what had happened. He hated the thoughts these people brought with them. Not the fact that your friends had come to see you but the fact that it made him think like this. Like anyone else could’ve saved you on time.

“Bakugou, what happened?” Todoroki asked, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Bakugou hated himself the second the words left his lips, but he said them anyway. “It’s their own damn fault that they can’t look out for themselves. I’m not their fucking protector” But he should be, right? He was allowed to be.

“You know what the next night is going to be for them right?” Midoriya asked, with worry in his voice.

“I fucking know, can everyone stop asking me that. Now get the fuck out, all of you!” Bakugou yelled.

None of them moved to leave. None of them cared that Bakugou was yelling his lungs out, telling them to leave. Everyone was worried for you, and when Bakugou finally stopped yelling, he stomped towards the door, and slammed it shut behind him. Midoriya was sure it would break from the force of the impact, but nothing happened.

Bakugou had left, and no one knew where he had gone. He couldn’t even look at you anymore, he couldn’t bear to watch what was going to happen, so he roamed around the city, trying to find the one who had done this to you, since it had come to his attention that the main villain had gotten away from the police. He was working pretty much on instinct, running around the back streets and alleyways near the crime scene, but he found nothing. He found no one, and all he could do was yell at the evening sky.

When Bakugou was making his way back to the school, it was almost dark, the sun had almost set and he knew it was almost time. He had decided he wouldn’t be with you. You probably didn’t want him there anyway, it was his fault that you were about to go through so much pain, he wasn’t able to help you on time, he wasn’t able to prevent this. He knew it wasn’t his fault that you had decided to protect him from the villain, but he was convinced it was his fault that he wasn’t able to help you.

He was walking towards the dorms when it started, the screaming. He knew it was you, who else could it really even be. He knew that the pain you had felt hours before was nothing compared to your body healing. He couldn't bear to listen to it. He just wanted to make your pain stop. Before he even realized it, he was sprinting towards school doors, towards you. He had just decided he wouldn't go to you, but there he was, running to you, always to you.

When he got to the nurse’s office, everyone had left, all except for one. Deku was still there, holding your hand and trying to calm you, but it was in vain. Bakugou rushed to the other side of the bed and took your other hand to his, giving Deku a bit of a death glare, which he took as his cue to leave.

You were screaming, or at least you thought you were, you couldn’t really be sure, since all you could hear was the humming and roaring of the flames as they healed you. That was your quirk, that was your healing fire, extremely useful, but incredibly painful. You had hated this side of your quirk for as long as you could remember. The fact that it healed little wounds and bruises with almost no pain and no time at all was useful, but when you got seriously hurt, it was hell. There was only really one good side to your quirk that you had found, your tears could heal others, but that was about it. The healing would’ve been much easier if you could’ve at least passed out, but your quirk wouldn’t even allow that, it was merciless in its intensity.

You could feel someone holding your left hand, the person was saying something, but you couldn’t hear it over the humming in your ears. Your vision was blurry and unfocused, but you could make out colors. You saw a head of green hair, so you assumed it was Midoriya. He has stayed with you, even though you really wouldn’t have wanted him to. You hated when people saw you like this. Then there was another moving shape in your field of vision, this one was blond. Then someone grabbed your right hand, and squeezed it tightly. The hands that were now holding your right hand were soft, but you could feel scars on them. The grip on your left hand disappeared. You assumed your angry to boot boyfriend had kicked Midoriya out.

Now there were just the two of you. You, writhing in agony on the bed and Bakugou holding your hand. At some point you realized he was talking to you, very loudly. At first you couldn’t make out what he was saying, but since he kept repeating the same thing, you eventually figured it out.

“Everything is gonna be fine! You hear me you fuckin idiot?!”

And that’s how the night went, him holding your hand and you feeling like it was all some surreal fever dream. At some point in the very early hours of the morning your screams had dwindled into just occasional whining and groaning. You knew Bakugou was there with you, he hadn’t let go of your hand the whole time, but it was all a bit of a blur. What you could remember best was his red eyes, and the tears that streaked down his cheeks.

The morning finally came and the flames were gone, leaving behind dozens of light scars and you out of breath and sweaty. The fire had melted away the special stitches, but the fireproof bandages remained, and you were covered with them.

You looked at Bakugou, who squeezed your hand and got up, heading for the door.

“Katsuki? Where are you going?” you asked shakily and sat up.

“I don’t fuckin know, somewhere other than here” he said.

“Don’t you dare leave me alone right now, you were here all night, so please… don’t leave me now” you pleaded, holding back tears.

“Why the fuck do you want me here? If you had just taken care of yourself, none of this would’ve happened, you wouldn’t have had to go through this shit… because of me”

“You think this is your fault?” you asked quietly. “Just… come here Katsuki”

Bakugou walked back to you, but he didn’t raise his head to face you. He didn’t want to look at you, he couldn’t. You had been so badly hurt, and he was to blame for not helping you in time.

“I… I’m so sorry” he said, his voice wavering.

You were a tad confused. Of course it had crossed your mind that he would find a way to blame himself, but he seemed seriously distraught.

“Why the hell aren’t you saying anything?” he growled, his voice now mostly back to normal.

He was now looking at you, he was finally looking at you again. He looked angry, but there was also something else shadowing his face, it was sadness. Your Katsuki looking sad was quite new to you.

“What am I supposed to say? I don’t understand why you’re apologizing to me in the first place” you answered, taken aback by his pained expression.

“Like I fucking said, it’s my damn fault you had to go through that. If I was just stronger, you’d be fine”

“Oh nononono. The only person whose fault this is, is that damn asshole who stabbed me. So don’t you dare even consider that this was your fault”

He didn’t really know what to say so he just kept looking at you. Your eyes, your shoulders, your arms, all those scars scattered across your upper body, that your shirt wasn’t hiding. He reached his hand towards your shoulder, stopped before actually touching you.

“Can I” he asked.

“Sure, they might still be a bit warm though” you smiled.

“You know I’m no good at talking, so I’m probably mostly gonna shut up after this, but I promise to find the bastard who did this to you, and beat them senseless” he huffed.

“Don’t go overboard, I don’t want you to end up in prison” you chuckled.

“Fuck that, I’m never gonna be away from you again you idiot” he scoffed.

“Well that’s good to hear” you said with a smile.

Bakugou loved your smile. It was so bright and warm. He moved from the chair to your bed to sit next to you and pulled you closer. He started kissing your neck and shoulders very gently. He laid you down on the bed so he was on top of you and you slipped your hands into his hair and pulled on them a bit, so he’d lift his head to face you. You kissed him on the lips. The kiss was rough, as it usually was with him, but it was also gentle. He didn’t want to push you after the hellish night you’d had but he wanted you. Your lips parted as he moved his back to your neck and started peppering kisses down your neck to your chest. Bakugou was always careful not to hurt you or make you uncomfortable, but he also took what he wanted, as long as you were willing to give.

You bit his ear very gently and whispered to him: “I love you Katsuki, remember that”

“I love you too” he panted, with his face buried in your neck. “And I never want to see you hurt again”

“Can’t make any promises on that” you chuckled.

Bakugou lifted his head to look at you, straight in the eyes. He had a serious expression on his face and he said: “Don’t fuckin joke about that”

“Guess I need someone to protect me when I get in trouble then” you smirked mischievously.

“Guess so” he said and kissed you again.

Bakugou swore he would never let you get hurt again, not if it was up to him.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugou #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #rewrite

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muddy-t-wheels · 3 years

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(Please ignore me) So I had this dream a few weeks ago, and it’s been stuck in my head since then...

Very quick summary: Our world combines with MHA Universe, I become an Art/English teacher at UA (more of an assistant teacher for Present Mic), and I was reminded of how stubborn people can be. Also soulmates exist in this world for some reason...

So in the dream, both worlds were collided, and faster than you can blink, anything MHA related was whipped from the face of the earth, and while it took a while- everyone silently agreed to not speak of the fandom/content for a very long time. Which of course was very sad, but it is what it is. One of the more common trends that happened was that anyone from our world was as “Qurikless as it gets”. It also came to the attention of everyone in both worlds that while soulmate marks don’t exist in our world, apparently they did in the MHA world.

A few years later, I had become an established teacher, specifically due to the fact that many students seemed to be drawn to me, even if I hadn’t taught them at all. One day, I had gotten an email from someone in Japan, asking if I would be interested in a teaching for the future heroes of Japan at “U.A. High school”. While I was surprised, and thought it was BS (for obvious reason), I decided to respond for the fuck of it, YOLO.

But low and fucking behold, the email turned out to be legit. Principal Nezu and I started exchanging emails back and forth until plans were formed. I had become fluent in Japanese, got a house to call home where I could move in with my mom and sister (we are all very close). Eventually it was agreed that I would assist Hizashi Yamada with teaching English (grammar wise) but I was also going to be the art teachers. I the day came up when I went and met with Nezu and I vividly remember the ending question of the meeting.

Incase you can see the image: (Nezu: Alright, so all the paperwork is filled out, I do need to ask this, since you’re quirkless and all... How will you defend your students?)

(Me: Ah yes, I thought a good bit about this and I came up with some ideas!)

(Me: I went ahead and got a permit to carry a specialized gun! The gun can shoot tranquilizer darts. The darts can stun most people for roughly one hour. Of course, I can understand if you or others dislike this idea so I also started taking Wing Chun class-)

Yes, I know conceal carry permits don’t really exist like they do in America but it was a dream ^^”

(Nezu: Oh no, you’re fine, just make sure the students don’t see it!

Me: Wha- I mean, of course, but will the guardians of students be okay with this?

Nezu: Ignorance is bliss now have you thought about what your “quirk” should be? From what your references told me, I think “Mom” could be a good one!)

We had spoken about me faking a quirk to see how long it would take anyone (outside of the faculty of course) to notice that I was indeed quirkless.

(Me: ...

Nezu: ... Do you not like “Mom”?)

This then led to us discussing what my “quirk” would be. We had agreed on calling it “Mom” and essentially allowed me to release a caring/nurturing aura that made most people feel drawn to me in the sense of seeing me as a “mother figure”. With it, the “quirk” it allowed me to be in tune with certain individuals that I grow close with and could vaguely sense if they were in great distress.

After this I was brought to the teacher’s lounge and introduced to all the other staff members. When the principal left, I sat and talked with the teachers of 1A, who eventually asked who came up with the fake “quirk” idea, and when I told them the reactions were defiantly mixed...

(Aizawa: You... You’ve got to be kidding me!

Me: I wish I was...

Hizashi: OMFG! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! HAHAHAHAH-

Me: That makes three of us-

Toshinori : ...

Me: Four of us... ow my ears)

Not too long afterwards, I became an official member of the U.A. staff. Nothing too major happened for a few years had passed, and one winter morning I was getting ready for work when my sister came into my room to do something (idk what) but then asked when I got a tattoo on my back. Confused, I questioned what she was talking about, she took a picture and showed me the image. Sure enough; there was a blue flame on my left shoulder, a purple heart in on my spine, and a red wing on my right shoulder... defiantly looked like a tattoo!

We did some quick research we learned that at the age of 16, people from the world of quirks would get their soulmate marks. However, all soulmates must reach the age of 16 before the other soulmates get their marks. Another thing we learned was that once the marks appeared, soulmates would be able to talk with each other via their minds. We also learned that it was becoming more and more common for people in our world to get soulmate marks!

With all this information, it started to get me worried. I was 22 (going based off the year), and if one of my soulmates just turned 16 then there was a bit of an age gap. Don’t get me wrong, it could’ve been bigger but it irked me a little. I also realized that the marks were sensitive to certain fabrics, so I had to quickly change the shirt I was wearing.

Soon enough I began to hear my soulmates’ voices, I had two, and they would “talk” often. Apparently they knew each other and already had an established relationship, so I kept quiet for a bit... until one of them made a bad joke that caused me to snort and respond to the terrible joke. Yeah, it freaked them out at first, but it got us talking, and we learned things about each other!

Eventually years flew by, I was an established teacher at UA and I had fallen into a routine. I knew who my soulmates were (Hawks and Dabi (incase it wasn’t painfully obvious)), they didn’t hide their identities very well, and I had somehow managed to keep my identity mostly under wraps (idk how (I’m very talkative) but they always asked questions about me). They would constantly pester me so that they could know more about me, and I would just... keep quiet.

At one point, I had stated that it would probably be better if the two forget about me, saying that I was shoe horned into their relationship because of the worlds colliding. If it hadn’t my mark wouldn’t be on their backs, so I got some medication that would help remove myself from their relationship. It started working, after roughly a year or so (at least going based on the calendars nearby) their marks and voices were starting to fade.

During the year of me teaching class 1A (and protecting my students from various villian attacks) I eventually met them in person (begrudgingly). Thankfully they didn’t seem to recognize my voice, however I did get the idea that could sense something was off cause I noticed they would be nearby. So I got in contact with a close friend of my and called in a favor. We went to school together and were constantly mistaken for couples because I was very affectionate while he would throw hands with someone if they got too close for his liking. So I asked if he would join me for a “date” so that some people would potentially get a hint and leave me alone.

He agreed and came to Japan and we went to the U.A.’s school festival together, we even went the extra mile and got matching fake tattoos so they would act as our “soulmate marks”. Surprisingly it worked- when the students asked who he was I stated he was my date (which wasn’t a lie). Eventually, I had stepped away to go get us something to drink, but when I had returned I saw he was being confronted by two people.

I sighed trying to think of what I could do before getting and idea. I had begun to shake the two soda cans before walking up to the two individuals and getting their attention, once they turned to me, I opened the cans and sprayed it in their faces. They stumbled back in response, obviously caught off guard, I stated that they need to cool down and began to walk away with my friend in tow. I got us something else to drink, and we continued on with the festival.

We enjoyed the rest of the festival and waited to see Eri and Aizawa off, before we left, we were approached by some of my students who wanted to know my relationship with my friends. We looked around, making sure that we were in the clear before confessing that we were just friends. That this was all just a ploy to get some people of my back and to hopefully stop pestering me. We even showed that the tattoos we were wearing were fake, everyone seemed to understand and agreed to keep it under wraps.

Thankfully things seemed to flow smoothly from there on, nothing to crazy happened. However, one day I was doing some training and decided to take a break. I was wearing a simple tanktop and sweats, which wasn’t too bad, since the soulmate mark was almost completely faded at this point, it would take a keen eye to see the remains of the “tattoo”. I was lost in my own world when two soda cans were dropped into my lap, two voice stated that I looked like I needed to cool down.

I had frozen up and slowly looked up to see that both Hawks and Dabi were standing behind me, I gave a weak smile with an equally nervously chuckle. I quickly got up to get away from them, but I was grabbed just as quickly, and thrown to the grown with them still standing over me. I sighed and chuckled once again and held my hands up by head.

The last thing I remember was me saying, “Alright, alright, you caught me, but the mark is almost gone so if you two just waited a little bit longer, you wouldn’t have me as a soulmate anymore. So why on Earth are you two still chasing me?”

Dabi smirked, “Probably cause we wanted you to be our soulmate! Fucking idiot- If you thought we were just going to leave you alone after you stated that we would be better off without you then we have some serious problems.”

Hawks chuckled, “Yeah, but don’t worry, we figured out a way to fix this, it just requires a lot of lovin from us! We gotta get that mark bright and vivid again!”

AND THEN I WOKE UP!

#my art #digital art #MHA #I was so disoriented when I woke up!#I actually talked with my friend about this and he confirmed that he would do this for me #Obviously he'd want compensation but we'd come to an agreement #I'm probably gonna draw some stuff for it #hoping that if I do that it'll get out of my head ;-;#Guess I'm making an OC... that's one way to make a self-insert OC

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ceescedasticity · 4 years

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director’s commentary

Dammit, tumblr, why much you make everything difficult.

Anonymous: Director’s commentary: Chapter four of Echoes in the Void, the conversation after they have to leave the Metaverse?

Oooooh, yes. This. Actually I think I’ll include a little earlier, too…

To recap, Goro started second term at Jikken, where the “evaluation period” was over and things were getting nasty/weird. The second day they held him after school and made him run laps after he reflexively tried to headbutt someone who got in his face; the third day they wanted to know why he wasn’t showing interest in any girls, and he made a cutting remark about their interest in the sexuality of fifteen-year-olds being creepy, and they made him run laps with no shoes, resulting in badly abraded feet.

This probably explained the bastinado rumors, anyway. Those had been rather implausible.

Goro wondered, distantly, whether it was a second offense thing, or they actually found mouthing off more of a problem than attempted head-butts. That seemed like the sort of thing they really ought to explain.

The punishments Jikken is dealing out are completely unreasonable, but their prioritizing of offenses actually isn’t completely illogical. The attempted headbutt was because his instincts felt physically threatened and there was no choice or thinking about it involved. He knew it was a bad idea to make a nasty remark and did anyway. Therefore the second is a worse offense. And they definitely should have explained this.

Afterwards the school nurse was standing by to carefully clean the scrapes and apply antibiotics and bandages and lecture him about taking proper care of the injury.

Idk how many of my Start Again readers read my ‘Close Encounters of the Fourth Kind’ Homestuck fic? Jikken wants to be the goblins. They have all the bad ideas of the goblins about Fixing People, but they’re bad at it.

He couldn’t say what he thought about that. He must not say what he thought about that. Lashing out would make things even worse. Just smile. Just thank her. Just smile.

He was dissociating at least a little to deal with the pain, but having to act grateful about it is what pushed him over the edge into a prolonged episode. He’s done this before – locked himself away behind what is supposed to be Pleasant Goro, but… isn’t, exactly.

Afterwards he wasn’t hungry, so he skipped dinner. No one at the group home asked why he was limping. (Was he even limping? Both feet were equally injured, it wasn’t like he wanted to favor one of them.) His roommates noticed the bandages when he took off his slippers before bed.

“Fuck, look at pretty boy’s feet.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Ask him.”

“You ask him, he’s doing the psycho smile again.”

Goro tries to keep up Pleasant Goro appearances with the group home supervisors, but is really inconsistent about it with his roommates. They therefore both scorn him for being a pretty-boy suck-up and are kinda afraid of him for being vicious if you cross him. They generally don’t mess with him when there’s any chance he’d catch them at it.

(He dreamed blurrily of smiling, smiling as blood ran down the face of the first person he’d felt a connection to since—)

Canon!Akechi wasn’t dissociating the entire time, or for every murder, but that was how he dealt with Shido, and that was how he dealt with killing the closest thing he had to a friend.

The smile stayed in place the whole next day of school, too, through his math teacher accusing him of not paying attention and grilling him on properties of cotangents. It even stayed in place through the nurse checking on his feet and reprimanding him for not changing the bandages himself. But besides that mild scolding he wasn’t in trouble today, so he didn’t have to stay after. Good.

I wrote this and I’m still kind of shocked by the gall they have to scold him about not changing the bandages.

When he met Noir and Niijima — Noir and Queen, she was Queen in the Metaverse — outside the laboratory, Noir put a hand on Queen’s shoulder. “Crow?”

“Yes?”

“Are you… all right?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Haru is seeing a lot more of Future Akechi than she ever has before and is on high alert.

It was good to get back to work. Good to solve a puzzle lock with perfectly well-remembered properties of cotangents. When there turned out to be a Battle Fiend waiting behind the door, good to tear its fucking face off—

“What in—”

“Crow! Stand down!”

—with his bare hands it could just die make something else bleed—

The Shadow melted away into nothing, and he slammed a fist on the floor. And again. And again. And again, because at least he could feel it his face was about going numb—

From an outside perspective Goro just went from creepy plastic smile to berserker rage with zero warning. Haru isn’t as shocked as she might be because she knew the creepy plastic smile wasn’t good and she knew what Akechi was capable of, but she still wasn’t expecting attacking a Shadow with his bare hands.

“Amrita drop!”

Goro jolted. Stilled.

Probably Makoto suggested the Amrita drop, because it sure looks like a status effect, and Haru thought it was worth a try. Why did it work, when it wasn’t actually caused by a spell? Maybe because it basically was a status effect? Who knows, cognition is weird.

His hand hurt. His feet hurt. His face hurt. His mask was completely blocking his peripheral vision.

The more isolated and closed-off he is, the more his mask looks like a helmet.

“Did that work?” Queen asked anxiously, somewhere behind him. “If it wasn’t a spell that caused it—”

“I don’t know, I’ve never— Now he’s hyperventilating.”

“No I’m not,” Goro said, or at least tried to. It came out garbled and wheezy.

“I’m going to—”

“Yes, good idea.”

The hallway blurred around him, and then they were outside the Palace. Goho-M.

“Crow?” Noir said. “We’re going back to the real world, and then we’re going to want to move fairly quickly. Is it safe for Queen to take your arm?”

Okay, this is back to the volatile but human Goro who Haru has known since coming back in time, and in clear distress. She still wants to know what the fuck just happened, but she knows who she’s dealing with, now. …And she knows that who she’s dealing with is someone you don’t touch without warning if you can avoid it.

Goro tried to get his breathing under control. “Just. Just a. Minute.” Sit on the ground. Knees up. Head between his knees. Breathe. “Just a minute.”

They gave him the minute.

How novel.

Not sure this needs to be commentary since it’s basically text, but he is not used to people listening to him about his mental/emotional needs.

“All right,” Goro said finally. “Just — slowly.”

Queen did indeed move slowly enough that it didn’t set off any panic responses, and carefully helped him to his feet. “Where are we going to go to talk about this?” she hissed, presumably at Noir. “Should we have gone to a safe room instead?”

“No, I don’t think being in the Metaverse is doing him any good right now,” Noir replied. “I’ve noticed a park about two blocks south — there’s a picnic shelter which shouldn’t be visible from the street. We can talk there.”

Oh joy.

Maybe he could run away instead.

He probably wouldn’t have run away even if he could have, he’s too invested in this group by now, and he trusts them more than anyone else, but he would’ve been tempted. He really doesn’t want to talk about this.

It turned out he could not, in fact, run away, as the second they returned to the real world the distant throbbing in his feet turned to raw agony, and his knees buckled for a second. Niijima had to support him. She didn’t, mercifully, offer to try to carry him.

“Is there something wrong with his—?”

“I guess so, come on, we’ll ask about that, too—”

Goro stared at the sidewalk as they walked and tried not to wonder what they wanted to talk about, exactly. Instead he wondered if it was sweat or blood making the bandages feel damp. It could be sweat. But if it was blood, and he bled through his socks… he hadn’t budgeted for new shoes, this could be a problem.

He’s not exactly dissociating at this point, but he’s not exactly fully engaged with his surroundings, either. Although having to buy new shoes WOULD be a problem for him, so the tangent isn’t out of nowhere.

So when they reached the picnic shelter, he sat down and started taking his shoes off without prompting. “I may need to ask one of you to get me some plastic bags… Good.” It looked like only traces of blood had penetrated the socks, so his shoes were safe. “But I will need some plastic bags. And bandages…”

There was a rather loaded silence.

“What. Happened,” Noir said.

They were not expecting to see blood. Real-world injuries isn’t something either of them has had to deal with a lot.

There was probably some way to avoid the question, but— “Running laps. Without shoes.”

“Without— Does that happen often?” Niijima demanded.

“It can’t be that often per student or people’s feet would toughen up,” Goro said. “I don’t know. Often enough that they sterilize the track frequently, I think.”

“That’s barbaric.”

“Agreed,” Noir said. “But considering we did already see the principal’s cognitions of the teachers vivisecting cognitions of the students, it’s not… unexpected.”

“It’s not unexpected,” Goro agreed.

“What was unexpected was your showing up smiling like some sort of, of creepy talk show host, and then killing a Shadow with your bare hands, in some sort of… something that Amrita Drop apparently brought you out of. I was not expecting that.” Noir crossed her arms, and looked at him. Expectantly.

Aaaaaaand Haru has decided it’s going to be necessary to get him out of that school. Because what the fuck. That’s not normal. That’s not even your standard unacceptable physical discipline, that’s – what the fuck. And clearly it’s bad for Goro in particular, because he still scared her with his Future Akechi impression. Let’s get some answers about that part; the school isn’t as much of a priority because she will remove it from the equation.

…Yeah, it had probably been too much to hope for that that would go unremarked. “That… I wasn't… I wasn’t planning on that. It just… happens sometimes.”

“Happens sometimes?” Noir said incredulously.

“Like… spontaneously?” Niijima asked.

And what a liability he’d be if it did. “Not… exactly. Do you know — I know you know, Noir — how sometimes you have to do something you don’t want to, but you also can’t let on that you don’t want to?” Niijima probably did, too, to a lesser extent.

“Yes…”

I’m not sure whether Goro has never encountered the concept of dissociation or if he refuses to connect it with his PERFECTLY HEALTHY COPING STRATEGY, SHUT UP, IT WORKS.

“Well, there's… a sort of… Sometimes I can… really hit my stride, I guess. Get so it gets easier to just… keep what I’m feeling separate. Keep me separate.” He shrugged uncomfortably. “So that’s good, but then sometimes — not often! — it sort of… overloads. And the overloads are worse in the Metaverse, for whatever reason.”

The purpose of Dissociation Goro is doing things necessary for his goals/purposes that Regular Goro does not want to do or finds too difficult. By ‘overloads’, he mostly means that sometimes Dissociation Goro apparently loses track of the goals and priorities of Regular Goro, and ends up doing unnecessary things.

“Probably the lack of consequences,” Noir said dryly.

“If my subconscious is counting on a lack of consequences for physically tackling Shadows, I’d like a few words with it.”

“…Point.”

It’s mostly that the cognitive world, with its Personas and Shadows running around, already his one’s consciousness a little more spread out than normal; it’s easier for the dissociation driver to get accidentally wired to input from the id or the intrusive thought generator.

“But if it originated in the real world, why did Amrita Drop work?” Niijima wondered. “Did it just shock you out of it? Is it because the… ailment was cognitive to start with?”

Goro shrugged again. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have expected it to work.”

“Well, it’s good that it did,” Noir said. “Still, it would be better for it not to come up.”

“I'll… I agree, and. And I can try.”

I’m not 100% sure how he’s planning to try, here, without a strategy to get out of Jikken. Dissociation is still an important part of his toolbox of 500 variously functional coping mechanisms. But he doesn’t like going off the rails like that, he really relies on his self-control, and he agrees it’s not a good thing.

#writing babble #start again fic

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jadewritings · 4 years

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Love Letters To My Professor - Can’t Be Avoided

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x reader

WORD COUNT: 3k ish

WARNINGS: Language, dark humor, angst, almost smut 🙃

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay so, haha, idk how much of a slow burn this is gonna be like I said before because my fingers are just typing at their own will and things are just... happening heh 🙃

You were the first to wake up. Well, to be woken up at least. Groggy, you hadn't even opened your eyes before you pushed your butt back and felt something poking in between your thighs.

Not understanding quite then and there what it was, you pushed back more, wiggling around to decipher what it is. It got harder and you heard behind you, Sam groan. His hold on you tightened and you suddenly realized what it was.

You'd had boyfriends before. You knew they got morning wood and you'd teased them before as well. You gasped and shot up out of the bed, effectively waking both brothers.

Sam looked up, almost looking as though he was out of breath. His palm reached for his bulge to get some kind of friction before he woke up and realized you were blushing furiously and looking anywhere but him.

"Shit! Ah, I'm sorry Y/N!" He hastily got up and went into the bathroom. You heard the click of the lock and released the breath you'd been holding.

"What the hell?" Dean sat up. He looked at you then the door and back to you again before shaking his head and laughing.

He threw the covers out of the way and he himself sported some morning wood. You slapped your hands over your face, bouncing between your feet.

You heard him chuckled one last time before the door opened and closed. Peeking between your fingers you let out a sound just short of a frustrated shriek. What were these guys doing to you!

You had to somehow get back to your dorm before classes started, which you had time, today was Thursday, you didn't start classes until 12 and it was only 10, according to the little alarm clock on one of the bedside tables. But you were wearing Sam's clothes and wasn't wearing anything but a shirt and shorts. Your nipples poked through. You felt the draft of air from the shorts and anxiety built up in your chest.

You would just have to wear the clothes from last night. That was the only way, no matter how uncomfortable you'd be.

With a mixture of a sigh and a whimper, you begrudgingly put on the clothes. They were dirty and you felt even more dirty for putting them on.

You slipped from the room after placing Sam's clothes neatly folded on the bed and darted for the door. You thought you heard footsteps coming behind you but you shut the door and sprinted to your dorm too fast to find out.

••••

Putting the key in and hurriedly closing and locking the door behind you, you slid down the door to your butt and panted.

There was no way you could avoid those two for long but at least today you didn't have practice or a class with them. Well, Dean wasn't a teacher here, just the assistant coach so you didn't have to worry about having a class with him. But it made you wonder what else he did. Being an assistant coach couldn't be getting him far.

You got up from the floor and stripped of your clothes, throwing them in the trash, and put on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with a leather jacket on. You brushed your hair and decided you could stand to go without makeup today.

You put some black flats on and brushed your teeth before grabbing your keys and phone to go out and grab some breakfast before heading to class.

You stopped at the gas station that was a five minute walk away to grab a few snacks as breakfast. The bell rang as you entered. Not many people were there only a few guys and another girl. You walked over to the snack area then thought about it. Maybe you should eat some fruit instead for once. Healthier than a honey bun or something.

You shrugged to yourself and walked over to the back to grab a water bottle then found yourself in front of a stack of black containers, filled with a variety of fruits. One had watermelon, pineapple, grapes and cantaloupe it looked like. Others had peaches and bananas with other fruit. You went with the first option.

You checked out and looked at the watch on your wrist, 11:30 am now. 10 minute walk to class, you'd be fine.

You picked at the fruits, popping each one into your mouth, not really paying attention as you walked to math class. Math wasn't your favorite subject but you had to take it if you wanted to graduate college.

"Y/N!" You looked up at the sound of your name and saw Dean walking towards you. Your eyes went wide and you looked around to find anything that could get you away from him but it was too late.

"I can't be avoided, Y/N. Neither can Sam. You're bound to go back to his class or practice sooner or later." He chuckled.

You groaned, angrily chewing on a piece of watermelon. He looked down at your container and grabbed a grape. You complained.

"Hey! You have money, go get your own grapes."

"Yeah but that's too far of a walk now." He smirked and winked at you.

"What are you doing here today anyway, practice isn't for another two days."

"Well, believe it or not, Missy, I dropped Sam off for his class. We do have a car ya know." He grabbed for another grape and you pulled the container away trying to stop him but he got one anyway.

You rolled your eyes, shoving the rest of the container in his hands and began walking to class, taking a sip of your water.

"Y/N, wait!" You huffed and turned around.

"What!"

"Look, about this morning. I know you were probably uncomfortable and I'm sorry about that. But don't blame Sam. We can't really help what happens in the morning." He looked down, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"You really shouldn't apologize for that. I kind of wound him up and I didn't really realize it till it was too late."

He nodded and silence filled the air.

"How... how are you doing? After last night?" He asked. You knew he wasn't talking about with Sam but with the other kid. To be honest you hadn't even thought about it since you got home.

"I mean, it's not just gonna go away. I have a feeling I'm in for a few rough and restless nights but Sam saved me before it got too far, thankfully. Hopefully soccer can help me take my mind off of it."

He nodded, listening intently to your answer, "Well you can't avoid it as sorry as I am to say that. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I'm here okay?"

That warmed your heart. You smiled and looked back down to your watch. 11:50. Shit, you had to get to class.

"Thanks, but I gotta run before I'm late to class. I'll see you at practice, Coach!"

"Y/N!" He called out as you began to jog away.

"Yeah?" You got impatient.

"Call me Dean, please?"

You gave him a salute and jogged off, making it to class with 2 minutes to spare.

••••

The whole first week of college was introductions and syllabus' which was usually how the start of school went. A few classes gave you homework but it wasn't too bad. You turned it in the next day and was done with it.

You met with Gen again and asked what happened to her that night. She said she hooked up with a guy and tried to find you but couldn't so she figured you went back to your dorm after the hour was up and so did she. You couldn't tell her what really happened. She wouldn't forgive herself and you didn't want her to blame herself.

You were surprised the news didn't spread though. You figured the guy would be talking about it, texting his friends about it. But that would probably get him in more trouble. Thankfully you were in the clear.

The principal called you to his office to confirm what happened and since then, you hadn't had to deal with the whole situation anymore.

It felt like a breath of fresh air but the nightmares hadn't stopped. The panic attacks lessened and you were less jumpy but they did stop. You'd be in the bathroom and an image would flash in your head from that night and all of a sudden the breath would be gone from your lungs. You'd remember Sam's gentle touch and the way he helped you calm down and you'd be able to make it through.

Sam didn't really speak to you though you could tell he really wanted to. You wanted to as well. Being away from him made you feel cold almost.

But today you had soccer practice so you could see him. You were walking down the halls after changing into your uniform, when you heard a shrill voice cooing at someone.

"My, my, Mr. Winchester. You go to the gym everyday or are you just that sculpted?" She asked. You rounded the corner, slowly peaking out to see none other than Mrs Levi talking to Sam. She was close to him. Too close for your liking.

She was once again wearing something that pushed her boobs up so there was more cleavage. Did she go after everyone around here?

Her voice made you cringe, "I would like to get to know you, Mr. Winchester. And more so what's under those clothes." She grinned wickedly and anger flared up in your veins. You didn't know why you were acting like this. He wasn't yours and you certainly were his.

At that thought, your heart clenched in pain. Tears formed in your eyes and you had to walk away. You rushed passed them, ignoring the call of your name.You wiped the tears away frustratedly before you got to the field.

You tossed your bag on the bleachers. Dean came over and nudged you with his shoulder.

"Hey. What's up?"

You smiled up at him, hopefully your eyes weren't too puffy, "Nothing. Just ready to kick some balls."

He raised his eyebrows. He certainly had one dirty mind. You rolled your eyes at him.

"You know what I mean. Don't be nasty."

He held his hands up in surrender, "You said it not me."

"Mhmm." You laughed and ran over to where Genevieve was when you saw Sam rush up out of the corner of your eye. She was talking to some of the other girls and you walked up and joined in before he could catch you.

Dean gave him a raised eyebrow in question but he only sighed and waved him off.

He clapped, grabbing everyone's attention. His eyes fell to you but you looked away and pulled up your long socks and pretended to fix your cleats so you didn't have to look at him or even acknowledge him. You couldn't see the hurt look on his face.

"Uh, okay ladies. Today we'll practice in pairs. I want each pair to grab a ball and practice trying to get around the opposing player to score the ball. After that we'll come back together and try positioning each of you to see where you all feel comfortable."

You immediately looked at Genevieve who smiled and nodded. You two were definitely gonna be partners. You were the one to grab the ball though. She went over to her spot on the field.

"Y/N, can we talk? Please?" Sam whispered. But you didn't have time for him, nor did you want to discuss something you shouldn't have any feelings about.

"Sorry, coach, I've gotta practice." You knew calling him coach would get under his skin but you did it anyway and walked away with the ball. You thought you heard him growl and turned to look at him, a scowl on his face. Man, did it get to him that bad? You knew he wanted to be called Sam, but all the girls on the team called him Sam. Not just you. Same with Dean.

You shook your head with the roll of your eyes. "So dramatic." You whispered to yourself.

You had to say, you were pretty impressed with yourself. You managed to score the ball 15 times before Genevieve was able to stop you for the first time. She was technically the goalie in this situation. You even played with the ball, bouncing it from knee to knee and to your head then back to your foot, scoring it as you pulled your leg back just before the ball hit the ground and shot it into the goal.

"Wooo! Nothin but net!" You laughed as Genevieve huffed for the 3rd time. You could tell she didn't like being a goalie. It wasn't her strong suit that was for sure.

"Awe come on Gen, it's nothing personal! Would you like to switch?" You asked, going up behind her and hugging her. She swatted you're arms away and you reared back at the sting.

"Ouch! What was that for?!"

She glared at you before she broke out into a smile, "You know what that was for. Now switch me."

Still rubbing your arm, you take the different mesh top and gloves to go over your numbered jersey, something goalie wore to let people know that that's what position they were.

You bent your knees and stuck out your hands to the side and smirked, "Give me all you got baby."

She kicked the ball far enough before stopping it and turning back.

"As you wish."

She ran with a fast start, giving you little to no time to judge where she was going to kick it in. Her leg lifted and you noticed the angle her foot was.

Top right. You had a second to dive for the ball but you managed to jump just in time. It hit your chest hard, knocking some air out of your lungs.

You fell to the ground on your stomach, the ball clutched to your chest. You heaved and your vision blurred for a moment.

Genevieve gasped, her hands clutching her mouth, "Oh my gosh! Y/N! Are you okay? I'm sorry I didn't mean to kick it so hard!"

You couldn't breathe and held up a finger, signaling her to wait. She crouched to your level, a hand on your shoulder. She really was worried. How sweet.

You managed to breathe out in small bursts before you were able to take a deep breath, a stinging pain against your chest was all that was left.

"I'm *breath in* good." You gave her a thumbs up and a smile. She smiled in relief.

"Thank god. I thought we were going to have to get you to the nurses.

You laughed, "I dunno, I still might need to go. You might've just given me breast cancer."

She slapped your shoulder, "That's not funny, Y/N."

"Alright, alright. It wasn't funny. After a minute." You smirked and got up, wiping away the dirt from your front.

Both coaches came over to see if you were okay.

"Y/N. Are you alright? That was a pretty hard hit." Dean asked. You nodded and tossed the ball behind Genevieve. It rolled to a stop and you turned back to the coaches.

Sam still looked kind of angry but you ignored it.

"Alright ladies!" He yelled, "Let's decide you're positions now."

The girls came back and were all excited to see what they would get.

Sam has a clipboard in his hand and flipped the page, listing off everyone's positions. Genevieve was assigned the midfielder position and you somehow got goalkeeper. You didn't mind it and you liked being one but with your skill, you were better off as a forward or a midfielder.

You grunted in response. You thought Sam was punishing you and knew he was trying to do it to get you to talk to him because you saw the semi shocked look on Deans face. You weren't going to fall for it.

Two could play at that game.

-Part 5-

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ranger-jedi-knight · 4 years

Text

A New Hero ch 9

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887313/chapters/54715003

taglist: @vixen-uchiha

So here’s the next chap!! I’m really happy u guys are enjoyin little Xan!! So this chap update wasn’t as quick, sorry. So, this update was a bit of a struggle, it took quite a few rewrites since nothing seemed to fit. But then, my shoulder and upper arm got hurt of something, idk what, all I know is that it just hurts to move it a bit. So that delayed this too. Life didn’t help, it took off days of working, but I’m doing better finally. So hopefully I won’t lose days to nothing. But anyways. A month or so has passed between this chap and the last one! Anyways, I hope u enjoy this update too!!

“Is it true that Joker uses special cards to attack people?” Alix asked looking at Xander. Xander stiffened at the question as everyone looked at him.

“Not cool Alix,” Kim said watching Mari rub a hand over Xander’s shoulder.

“What? He’s from Gotham, it’s a fair question. Come on, it’s not that bad of a question,” she argued. Xander was looking ahead blankly, his posture tense as his hands trembled.

“I-I don’t want to talk about it. Please don’t ask me,” Xander stumbled out and Mari and her friends looked at him concerned.

“Come on. It’s just a yes or no question!” Alix said leaning against her desk. “Does he or does he not?” she asked once more.

“I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. This,” he ground out, his pencil that was being held in a death grip snapped. Some of the students around them jerked when they heard the pencil break.

“What? Can’t handle thinking about one of your own villains?” Alix taunted.

“Alix, stop it,” Mari demanded.

“Not cool, dudette,” Nino said. Mari and her friends, Lila included, were all told what happened to Xander. Lila knew Xander had died and was brought back to life by a different villain. She just didn’t know how it happened except for it causing him so much pain the first few years afterward.

“Come on-” Alix started but shut up when Xander stood up and slammed his hands onto the table.

“You really wanna know!? You wanna know if that psychopath uses deadly cards!?” he shouted glaring at Alix who shrunk back, looking nervous. She didn’t respond, not wanting to see what Xander would do. “He uses deadly cards modified to be as sharp as knives. He turns fun items into deadly weapons. He kills people with them. He used those cards on me. He killed me with those damn cards! Is that what you want to hear!? To hear about how Joker kills people in front of their families with items that should be harmless!? Well, now you know! What next? Do you want proof that he did!?” he shouted and the class paled in response. They didn’t know how to react when Xander pulled his shirt collar down and they saw a faint scar going to the back of his neck. “How bout next time you don’t ask about something that someone says they don’t want to talk about! You don’t know what it means for them!” Xander shouted before running out of the room.

“Xander!” Lila shouted, arm raised toward the door that Xander ran through. She turned toward Alix and glared at her before running after Xander.

“You should have stopped when he asked Alix. He specifically asked when he arrived for you to respect his boundaries and not continue asking about something if he asks for you to not talk about it. Gotham is different than here. They don’t have a magical cure that’ll bring everyone back to safety and wipe their memories of anything horrible. They don’t get their loved ones back. They don’t forget the pain of being hurt. They remember everything. They get traumatized. And they don’t come back from the dead,” Mari said in a tone the class hasn’t heard from the sweet girl before.

“Yo-you said they don’t come back,” Alix started shakily. “But-he...but he said he died,” she finished and while the class was scared of continuing, they nodded their agreement of the confusing statements. Even Ms. Bustier who walked in right as Lila ran after Xander was confused.

“He did, but he was lucky,” Mari said. “Don’t ever ask him about it again. He’s still healing from it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~(⊃д⊂)~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Xan!?” Lila shouted trying to find their hurting friend. Ragged breathing reached her ears. “Xan?” She followed the sound down the stairs and found Xander huddled under the staircase. His head rested on his knees while his hands tugged on his hair. His body moved with every breath he took. She kneeled down next to him and raised a hand to touch his shoulder but hesitated. “Xander, can you hear me?” she asked softly.

Xander didn’t react in any way to the question. She moved her hand toward Xander’s hand and lightly touched her fingers to the back of his hand. He froze momentarily at the touch but didn’t react badly to it. So gently, she pried the one hand out of Xander’s hair and held it in both of her hands. “It’s alright Xan, your safe,” she mumbled quietly, looking at his hand, seeing a little bit of red on his nails. “Can you tell me what’s happening?” she asked and his head shook no, but then he nodded. “Alright, take your time, ok?”

“I-” he started before stopping. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to focus on Lila’s hand and voice. “I can’t-I can’t stop thinking about-the-about the day I-I died,” he whispered out and she gave his hand a squeeze.

“Alix caused it to happen, didn’t she?” He nodded his head softly.

“Y-yeah. She wouldn’t listen. It-it’s still hard thinking about it. Thinking about Joker-and-and what he did. How-how much pain he caused us. He killed me on my birthday....in front of my sister, Lana. She-she took me out of the house to celebrate while Alya was at work and our parents baked. I keep feeling it. T-the pain. The fear. Still hear Lana’s cries. I-I just want-just want it to stop,” he stammered out, finally lifting his head to look at Lila as tears fell.

“I’m so sorry,” Lila said wrapping her arms around Xander and pulled him in for a hug. “She should have stopped when you first asked. Everyone could see the topic was uncomfortable for you to talk about.”

“Apparently not everyone could see it,” Xander said quietly.

“She could. But she didn’t care. She’s bullheaded and doesn’t care if something makes anyone uncomfortable,” Lila countered pulling back from the hug to look Xander in the eye. “And you know it. But this time she took it too far. We know you’re in therapy for whats happened to you in Gotham. Hopefully Mari and Ms. Bustier can get her to stop and punish her for causing an episode for you,” Lila continued and Xander nodded slowly.

“I doubt Ms. Bustier will though. We all know what she’s like,” Xander pointed out and Lila had to nod at that.

“Well, us three will go to Principal Damocles about what happened then,” Lila said with a decisive nod and smile. Xander gave a small smile at that. “First, let’s take you to the nurse to check on those scratches,” she said standing up and pulled him to his feet.

“That would be good,” Xander agreed with a rueful smile looking at his fingers that had a bit of blood on them. The two made their way to the nurse who made sure the small cuts weren’t bad and cleaned them after giving Xander some water to drink. By the time they were good, classes were out for lunch. Xander and Lila waited next to the door and waited for Mari. She made the show of being annoyed at walking with Lila as the three went to Damocles’ office.

“How are you feeling, Xan?” Mari asked.

“Better, thanks to Lila,” he answered and Mari gave Lila a nod and smile.

“I told Alix off after you left. I didn’t give them much about your death even though the asked. But they know not to ask you. I talked to Ms. Bustier and she just told Alix to listen to people’s wants next time, sadly,” Mari explained and Xander nodded at that.

“I’m not surprised. She doesn’t discipline anyone,” Xander replied which had the two nodding agreement.

“Ya, it’s ridiculous what someone could get away with, in that class,” Lila added as they reached the door leading to Damocles’ office. After hearing Damocles’ answer, they entered the office and stood in front of his desk.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“A classmate of ours kept pushing Xander to talk about a topic he specifically asked not to talk about. A sensitive one that caused him to panic. During that episode, he hurt himself,” Mari explained and Damocles nodded understanding at that.

“That’s no good. I’ll bring them in. Who did this?” Damocles leaned forward against his folded hands on top of the desk.

“Alix.” “Alright, I’ll bring her in to discuss this,” Damocles said standing up. After a few minutes, Damocles returned with Alix in tow. She sat down in the chair with a huff and crossed her arms. Xander sat in the other chair with Lila and Mari standing behind him.

“What did I do?” Alix asked side-eyeing the three of them.

“Well, you didn’t listen to Xander here when he asked you to stop, Alix. It was a sensitive topic for him and he went into a panic. You should have stopped when he asked you too,” Damocles said and Alix scowled.

“How would I have known it was sensitive? Aren’t Gothamites supposed to be so used to everything they see that they aren’t sensitive to it anymore!?” she demanded, leaning forward.

“He shouldn’t have to explain why he doesn’t want to talk about something, Alix,” Damocles answered.

“Just because we Gothamites see some horrible things doesn’t mean we’re immune to PTSD or anything else. We’re just used to it so we aren’t surprised. It’d make sense for you Parisians to not fear anything since you are lucky enough to have magical heroes that can cure you of any injury or even bring you back from the dead. We don’t. We pray that we get medical attention quickly enough. You have no right to assume something,” Xander responded tersely, looking only at Damocles who was nodding along to his point.

“To start off, I want you to apologize to Xander,” he said and Alix scowled at that.

“Come on!”

“It’s fair. Apologize to him for not listening to his request.”

“I’m sorry,” Alix said rolling her eyes as she fell back against the chair crossing her arms once more.

“Good. Now, you are going to have detention this afternoon,” Damocles said and Alix grumbled but said nothing else.

“Only today?” Lila asked and Damocles turned to her and nodded. “Why?”

“Because that’s fair for what she did,” Damocles replied sternly and Lila scowled at that. “Now, off you go.” The four left his office and Alix glared at them once more before running off toward the cafeteria.

“That’s not fair. Only one day of detention? If it’s with Ms. Bustier it won’t be detention. She’ll make it easy and Alix won’t learn,” Lila ranted and Mari placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s ok,” Mari began but Lila pushed her hand off her shoulder.

“No, it isn’t. Xander deserves to know that Alix will learn from this. Not to see how he won’t get justice. He deserves better than that,” Lila said and Xander placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Lila, please. It’s ok. I’m not surprised he didn’t do much. He means well but doesn’t know what to do. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure Alix’s dad donates some money to the school,” Xander replied and Lila scowled at that.

“No, you shouldn’t be put to the side by him just because the offender’s parents donate money to the school. You shouldn’t have to accept that you won’t get the justice you deserve,” she argued and Xander nodded.

“Thank you for thinking that, Lila. But we can’t force Damocles to do anything,” Xander replied.

“Yeah, Lila. We can send an email to the board about this, but who knows if they will act upon it and investigate,” Mari added placing her hand on Lila’s shoulder once more. Lila’s hands clenched into fists as she thought about their words. She knew they were right. They were even recording Chloe pushing Damocles into doing what she wants because of who her father was. Showing that someone could make Damocles do what they want if they aren’t pleased. But she didn’t think Alix’s dad did anything for the school. She would have thought Damocles would take Xander’s side in this.

“Lila!” Xander called out watching as an Akuma flew down to her. But Lila didn’t listen, or perhaps didn’t hear him. The Akuma flew into the friendship bracelet that Xander gave her.

“Hello again, Justice. You’re angry that your friend isn’t getting the justice he deserves after being pushed into a panic attack. I can give you the power to dish out the perfect justice to the one that did it. All I ask in return is for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous,” Hawkmoth greeted as his mask formed in front of Lila’s face.

“Yes, Hawkmoth,” Lila answered while her friends looked scared for her. Xander nodded to Mari who ran off to transform as black bubbles went over Lila. Once they disappeared he saw Lila’s new look. She had on a white knee-length dress that poofed out on the skirt. Over her chest, shoulders, and upper arms was silver armor. Brown gloves covered her hands. Knee-high brown boots were covered by metal shin plates that had a second piece that covers the top of her feet. Her hair was pulled back into a braid that went over her shoulder. A blue cloak was attached to the chest piece. The hood was on her head only allowing the lower part of her face show uncovered by shadow. Her eyes were covered by a blue mask. Sheathed at her hip was a simple sword.

“Lila-” Xander started and her gaze turned to him. She raised a hand and rested it on his cheek. She felt him tense up at her touch.

“It’s Justice now. Don’t worry, Xander, I’ll bring you justice,” Lila said with a smile. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek, he tried leaning away but she stopped him. After pressing the kiss to his cheek, she leaned back. “Good night, my knight.” When Lila said that, Xander’s vision darkened and he slumped over unconscious. She caught him with ease and set him down on the ground in safety.

After that, she looked around and went to Damocles’ office and barged in. “What on earth!” Damocles yelled watching her walk over to the desk.

“I am, Justice. And you were not just in deciding someone’s punishment.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~⊂(O.O)⊃~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mari looked around the bathroom before motioning Tikki out. “Hopefully Chat will figure out soon that there’s an Akuma,” Tikk said and Mari nodded.

“Well, the person Lila would be after is in the cafeteria with him,” Mari said and Tikki nodded at that. “Tikki, spots on!” After transforming, Ladybug ran out of the bathroom and looked around. She saw a flash of Lila entering Damocles’ office. She ran over and saw Xander asleep leaning against a wall.

She quickly checked him over before running into Damocles’ office in time to see Damocles chained to his desk unable to do anything. “Lila!” she called and the girl turned to her with a frown.

“It’s Justice now, Ladybug. Give me your miraculous,” she said and Ladybug shook her head.

“No can do, Justice. What did you do to Xander?” she asked and Justice smiled.

“Nothing bad, don’t worry. He’s just sleeping, safe from everyone,” Justice answered. “Let me pass. I need to find Alix,” she continued and Ladybug shook her head.

“I can’t let you do that. I get it, your angry, but this won’t do anything for either of you,” Ladybug said and Justice frowned.

“Alix needs to learn a lesson, Ladybug. She hurt someone. And one measly detention won’t make her learn,” Justice ground out with a glare. “If you won’t let me bring Justice, then you’re against me.” Justice raised her sword and rushed forward. Ladybug jumped back through the door away from her. She landed on the railing and looked around as she swung her yo-yo to be a shield. Justice growled when her sword bounced back from Ladybug’s ‘shield’.

Ladybug jumped away and Justice smirked. She ran toward the cafeteria and Ladybug cursed under her breath before following after her.

Adrien made a face when Justice came into the cafeteria. Nino had his phone out as Justice made her way over to the table that had Alix and the others. Ladybug came in and threw her yo-yo at Justice and it wrapped around Justice’s raised sword arm. Chat arrived and landed next to Ladybug. “What’s going on here?” he asked as Ladybug pulled her yo-yo back once Justice looked at them.

“I’m here to seek justice for my friend who was wronged. Now, give me your miraculous!” she shouted rushing at them as the other students ran out of the cafeteria.

“No can do. It’d be unjust-ice to do so,” Chat said dodging Justice’s attack. “Who needs justice?”

“My friend Xander was denied justice. Alix needs to pay,” Justice said and Chat glanced over at Ladybug.

“What!?” Alix shouted at the door and the three looked over at her with glares.

“You got out of getting a proper punishment for what you did. I’m going to give you the proper punishment that you deserve,” Justice said glaring at the girl. Alya was kneeling nearby recording the attack.

~~~~~~~~~~~One Convoluted Plan Later~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lila groaned as she gripped her head. She looked around and saw Ladybug and Chat Noir fist pump. They were in the park and she started looking around panicked. “Did I hurt anyone? Is Xander ok?” Lila asked and Ladybug kneeled down in front of Lila.

“It’s ok Lila. Everyones fine,” Ladybug answered and Lila smiled at that.

“Xander’s going to hate me,” Lila whispered and Ladybug rested a hand on Lila’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure Xander won’t hate you,” Ladybug replied softly and she looked at Ladybug hopefully.

“Really?”

“Yeah, give him a chance, he’ll surprise you I’m sure,” Ladybug said smiling and Lila nodded at that.

“Alright!” Lila said standing up and ran out of the park and to the school. Lila found Xander in the courtyard looking around nervously. “Xan!” Xander smiled when he heard Lila’s voice.

“Lila! I’m glad you’re ok,” Xander said hugging Lila. She hugged him back before pulling back and looking at the ground.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” Lila said and Xander smiled as he placed his hands on her shoulders.

“Hey, it’s ok. You wanted to help but the system was against you. Hawkmoth used that against you,” he said and Lila smiled. “Come on, let’s go play Ultimate Mecha Strike 3,” he suggested and Lila nodded agreement.

“Xander!” Mari shouted running down the stairs to the two. He waved as Mari came over to them.

“I’m fine, Mari,” Xander said and Lila gave a nod to Mari. Adrien came running out of the locker room smiling in relief. The four made their way to Mari’s and sat down in front of the TV. Xander pulled up the game as Mari got some snacks for them. After a bit, Chloe, Nino, and Kim arrived to play with them.

Ok, so this chap is ok. Sorry bout that. This chap was hard for some reason, so this probably caused it to seem rushed or not very good. But, i do hope u enjoy it! Until next time!! -Love Willa<3<3<3

#fanfic #fanfic update #writing #my writing #update #A New Hero #ml x dc #maribat #panic attack #xander has a panic attack #Xander Grayson

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

Text

Survey #264

I did tell y’all WoW would devour my life again when I got my laptop back lmao. But I’m still alive!!

When you wake up to pee at night, do you turn on the light? You mean like, in the bathroom? Uh, yeah? When was the last time you got a fresh box of crayons? Damn dude, I don't have a clue. What color is your favorite towel? I don't have a favorite. They're all just random colors. Do you know anyone’s phone number by heart? Actually no, not since Mom got a new phone. I really need to learn it. Do you wear hoodies? Yeah, one Pikachu one. Something your mother said or did that shocked you: We were arguing and she tried to kick me out of the car once. Obviously I didn't listen. It was one of our worst arguments. How many different homes have you live in?We're in our fourth house now. WELL there's another if you count the apartment, but I didn't officially live there, I was just... always there even though it was against policy lmao. Then when we were technically homeless I "lived" with my former best friend, but again, that was not an official thing. Did your mom go to college? She is, though cancer has thrown a wrench in the plan... She's on her final semester of a bachelor's degree in social work. With cancer now plus this wild quarantine, we don't really know what's going on. Where is the best place you know to take a dog for a walk? We have a park maybe like 15 minutes from here that's pretty decent. Nice fountain, fishing docks, plenty of ducks. Are there any crazy sandwich combinations you like to eat? It's not "crazy," as I know it's actually tasty to some people: having lunch meat, cheese, mustard, and potato chips. I haven't had that in yeeeaaars. Which food do you think you have the most cans of in your cupboard? Uh. I'm not sure. We usually have fruit, beans, and soup in there, but I'm not sure which there's more of. Do you save fortunes from fortune cookies? No. Are you offended when Christmas is spelled Xmas? No. Do you prefer rugs or bare floors? Rugs. Describe your favorite mug or glass to drink from? I don't really drink from any. Your bad habit that you love the most: Heh, drinking soda... Do you name your pets after tv/movie/book characters: I have before, yes. Had a guinea pig named Harry Potter lol, rats named Tezzeret and Rhoka, and... that may be it. I am not positive, had a lotta pets... Have you ever died in one of your dreams? Yes. Which is tastier: fruity gum or minty gum? Fruity. Be honest, have you ever bullied anybody? Who was it? Oh my god, I was about to say no, but wait. When I first started RP at around 9, I had the impression you were supposed to always be in-character. Me, at the time my account being just "mozart2" (I don't count her as my first RP character though, she turned into Ruby and was drastically changed) on the Animal Planet forum, wanted to be the "dominant female," and one of the girls whose name was like Angelkiss or something was "mean" to me and so I reciprocated until I GOT FUCKING BANNED ON THIS ACCOUNT I'M WRITING THIS AND IT'S SO EMBARRASSING WHAT THE FUCK WAS WRONG WITH ME I HATE YOUNG ME SO MUCH. What is the cutest Halloween costume for a baby to wear? Idk. Is it a turn-off if somebody’s teeth are stained yellow? Not necessarily. Yellow doesn't mean dirty + everyone is supposed to have some coloration, and I can't say shit anyway 'cuz mine are kinda yellow from poor self-care in the past anyway. I just care that they're clean. Which of your friends is the tallest? Which of them is the shortest? Girt is a damn giant lmao. I only reach his chest. Shortest, I'm unsure. Do you know any quotes from Forrest Gump? Well besides the famous ones, no. HA, fun fact that cracked me the fuck up though, someone in the government in NC that is running for... something, there are sometimes like three signs in a row along the road that say "RUN FORREST, RUN" and I fuckin died the first time I saw it. Do you believe in demonic possession? How about ghosts? Angels? I don't believe in angels or demons, so. Ghosts, yes. Would you rather judge a singing or dancing competition? Why? Dancing, for sure. I'm more educated on the form and techniques, plus it's way more entertaining. What was the mascot at your elementary school? A bulldog. It was super cute, and in art class, the art students all worked together to make colorful, clay models that were in the principal's office. Everyone loved them. Have you ever fallen down in public? Did anybody see you? Yes and yes. Do you scream when you go on rollercoasters? Do you close your eyes? I'll probably never know 'cuz my ass is afraid of them lmao. I get dizzy too easily and I'm terrified of the potential of getting sick. Do you think home-made cards are better than store-bought ones? They're more thoughtful imo. What is one romantic movie that you enjoy enough to watch more than once? The Notebook. Who was the last person to walk out of your life, and why? By their volition, probably a Facebook friend. How did you decide upon your favorite colors? I didn't know you could pick your favorite color. Are you less likely to approach people that look/dress a certain way? Wow no. I mean unless they look obviously dangerous, like if they had blood on them or something like that. What is your favorite Starburst candy flavor? If you say anything but pink, you're wrong. Do you prefer schedules and plans, or spontaneity? Schedules. Sponteneity, usually, stresses me out. How do you let someone know that you like him/her? I mean idk. Act like it or say it. Do you think that you act like yourself while online? I'm more myself online. Have you ever lied about something to get someone to like you? Hell no. I'd want them to like me for who I actually am. Would you rather buy presents for others, or receive them? BUY, so long as I'm happy with what I bought and know it'll make them happy. How did you meet your current best friend? YouTube. The last song/poem/story you wrote - what was it about? I haven't finished it, but I'm writing a poem about the strength of cancer patients following Mom getting her hair shaved off. Are you a mostly blunt person? No, because I'm too afraid of starting an argument. Do you have any talents that come naturally? I guess writing since I've been applauded for it since I was very little. Do you go out often? Even before quarantine, not at all. I go out so little that my eyes seriously hurt when I step outside; I always have to squint or entirely close my eyes for a few seconds. What's the best Valentine's Day gift you've gotten? There was one year Jason got me a really pretty heart box of chocolates plus the game Heavy Rain and a pink rose. May still have a picture of it on my old phone... Is there anyone who is overly nice to you? No. It's hard to be "overly nice" in my opinion. Would you prefer internet or television? Internet. What is something you lose often? I'm not sure. Not a lot. Do you enter a lot of sweepstakes? I never do. How old is your oldest sibling? 30-something. Have you ever considered writing a novel? Yes. Who's the last person you said I love you to? Mom or Sara. What's your stance on spooning? What a question. It's comforting, but I usually can't actually fall asleep like that because I get too hot. Have you ever been "popular?" Nah, not really. Well, I was pretty well-known in the meerkat YouTube community as an editor, but not like, Yelozo level. Has someone ever tried to convert you? Well, I was a Christian when my sister's friend's grandpa made me like, SUPER uncomfortable by talking to me all the way home from school (he had to drive us this day) about the Bible and stuff because it was his "job" as a religious man and I kinda had to take this little Bible from him just to be nice. Even when I was a Christian I wasn't VERY religious and really really felt like he was hardcore shoving his beliefs down my throat. Are you thin? Ha ha no. Do you like big earrings? Heavy/big earrings ruined my ears, so no. The holes are too stretched now and is why I'm putting very small gauges in so it doesn't look as stupid when I put an earring in and it just barely hangs on because my ear lobe literally looks like it could tear. Animated character that was your gay awakening? HA, there's been a few that looking back, I definitely thought were more than pretty, even as a kid, like Sheego from Kim Possible. But #1? Holy mother of fuck, Bayonetta. That is one fuckin HOT MAMA. What show/YouTube video(s) do you put on in the background when you don’t have anything to watch but you want something on? Hmm. It really does depend on what I feel like semi-watching. Maybe like, a let's play where I'm not THAT interested in the game, but I still do listen and glance over. Your go-to bar order, if you drink? I've never been to a bar, but when I go out to eat and I feel like getting a drink, it's usually a margarita. What’s your favorite pair of shoes that you own? UGGGGHHHHH my tall leather boots with all these buckles and stuff. They're hot. What was your first word as a child (that wasn’t a variation of “Mom” or “Dad”)? I don’t know. What’s a job that you’ve had that people might be surprised to find out you’ve had? Nothing that's really "surprising." Just three ordinary minimum wage jobs. What’s directly across from you? My snake's terrarium. Do you own any signed books/memorabilia in general? No. ;-; I wish. What do you get on your bagels? What WOULD you get if you had access to anything you wanted? I've only ever had cream cheese. NO WAIT, I tried jam once and it was fucking repulsive. One bite and I was like "fuck no." I think it was strawberry jam though, which I hate. I'm not sure what else I'd try as idk what would taste good. Fruity or herbal teas? Neither. What’s that one TV show that you’re a little bit embarrassed to watch but you still like nonetheless? None. It's funny, as a kid when I thought I was "too old," I tried to hide the fact I still adored Pokemon, but for years now I've just been like "lol fuck yeah man Pokemon." What was your “phase” when you were younger? (i.e., Mythology Nerd, Horse Girl, Space Geek, etc) Being an emo/goth/metalhead thing was NEVER a phase, Mom. Goddamn do I wish I could afford a gothic wardrobe laksjdfawde. What’s that one outfit in your closet you never get the chance to wear but want to? There's no telling. I rarely check my closet for "special" clothes, but rather my dresser. Where do you sit in the living room (we all have a preferred spot, and you know it)? The couch. Are you a “Quote that relates to the photos” caption-er, an “explanation of where I took the photos” caption-er, or a no caption kinda person when you post pictures online? I'm all of them, plus sometimes song lyrics I find relevant lmao leave me alone. Name a classic Vine: YO that one of the dude looking for his berries with a WILD outfit, expression, and voice and then scares adventurers away from his tree made me fuckin cry for about 1,000 repeats. I miss Vine, man, good shit. What’s the freezer food that you stock up on when you go to the grocery store? We don't really "stock up" on any particular food. We do, however, tend to get a large box of frozen rats for Venus, if you can count that, but obviously that's not from the grocery store lol. How do you top your ice cream? Chocolate syrup mmmMMMMMMMMMMM Do you like Jello? Yeah. Do you have a fear, even only a slight fear of insects? I do. Do you have a favorite poem you like and can recall? If so, what is it? I don't have a favorite, no. Have you ever resided in a home that was haunted: *shrugs* I do think paranormal things happened in my last house, but idk about calling it haunted. Do you ever play any MMORPGS: Just WoW. What’s the closest river to you? Tar River. Have you ever been in a building with over 100 floors? I don't think so. What bird is the cutest? Oh, I don't know. Something small and pudgy lol. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that shit is so cool. Have you ever held a real sword? No. What do you think about most? PTSD is v fun. My brain naturally drifts to relating topics when I don't know what to think about, which is most of the time. Certainly don't try to, but it just. Happens. Most attractive singer of your opposite gender? Hell man, idk. I do have a weakness for Kellin Quin though; he's the first to come to mind. What was the last film you saw in the cinema? The Lion King. What are you currently listening to? "Saturnalia" by Marilyn Manson. How many people have you kissed, that you can HONESTLY say you loved? Two. The last person to be under covers with you? Sara. What's the compliment you get the most? Uhhh I think it's "I like your tattoo" (referring to my Mark one). BITCH just wait til it gets tidied up for four hours. Have you ever disliked someone just because a friend disliked them? If they have good reason to, yes. I can't deeply dislike someone I don't know/have personally seen be a piece of shit, but I can sure not be fond of them until they prove unworthy of that judgment. Have you ever won a lot of money in a slot machine? How much? Never gambled and don't plan to. Do you eat/drink at your computer? Yes, oops. How much do you overeat at special occasions? (Birthdays, Christmas, etc) Actually, I tend to under-eat at most special occasions because odds are I'm not going to like the food. This isn't always the case, but yeah. Do you think it's important to enjoy your job or do you just work for money? I think it's very important to enjoy it. If you had to, which record would you go into Guinness World Records for? Probably the longest consecutive hours of not leaving the computer laksdfjawe I hate myself. Do/Did you enjoy school? Why (not)? From the very beginning, I hated school. It's why I was a goddamn monster to get up in the morning, even in high school. I only enjoyed (to a degree, anyway) my most recent college because it was a way to get out of the house and work towards my future. Do you find it difficult to sleep at night? Any reason(s) why? Boy, do I. Most recently, after being put on a medication for my nightmares/terrors (which works!), I have intense muscle spasms in my legs, oddly only when I'm falling asleep. Apparently it's a very rare side effect of it, but I'm willing to tolerate it in place of having nightly terrors. Then there's my PTSD and just general poor self-image that can both send me down a total spiral. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? Why? Not legitimately. Like I've wondered what it would be like, but I've never truly wanted to be a guy. I'm just content with being what comes with being genetically female. Do you think you'd make a good model? Would you ever want to be one? Hell to the fuck no. Have you had an argument with anyone recently? If so, do you still have issues with that person? Not recently, no. Who was the last person that asked to hang out with you? Tell me the story of how you met that person, everything you remember. Hell man, I don't have a clue. Have you ever worn colored mascara? If not, would you ever think about trying it? And if you have, what is/was your favorite color to wear? No, but I guess, if I had a reason to? What do you remember about your first day of secondary school? Were you more nervous or excited about it? I very faintly remember I had no desire to be there. Before Facebook became popular, did you use any other social networking site, like Bebo or Myspace? Yeah, I had Myspace. Has anyone ever asked you out, and you turned them down? If so, did you feel guilty about it? Why do you think you said no? Yes, and not *really*, as I'm very strict with myself about whom I date. It's just awkward. And I just didn't like one guy romantically in elementary, my best male childhood friend was black (mind you I haven't been racist in the least since I was a tiny kid, I was just raised like that), and I knew Juan had a bad rep. Have you ever asked anyone “Do you love me?” If so, did you get the response you wanted? Do you think when someone says “I love you”, you feel obliged to say it back? Ugh. Let's not. I feel obligated only with family. Has someone of the opposite sex ever sang to you? If so, how did you respond to it? LET'S. FUCKIN. NOT. If you’ve had a bad experience in a past relationship, did you find that you were scared to get into another relationship, in case the same thing happened again? Terrified.

#survey #quiz #questions

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ewankoseyo · 5 years

Text

serious || highschool!jackson au

A/N: Just a lil something I whipped up on a bus ride. Hella longer than I expected but here you go! Part 2 of magnetic coming very soon!

——

jackson is the male lead in those cheesy teen romcoms who’s the most handsome and most popular guy in school and is actually nice to everyone

he messes around in class too much and can be really chatty but because he’s so nice and polite, teachers can’t really get mad at him so they just kind of shush him in between lessons

they have him come in during lunch to help them clean lab supplies as a lesson

which he does without complaining BECAUSE HE’S JUST SO DANG NICE

actually makes conversation with them and basically knows about the personal lives of all the teachers

he’s a golden retriever in human form

basketball team? team captain

fencing team? FOUNDED IT

drama club? auditions for all the spring plays because that’s his sports-free season

chess club? he marched to the principal’s office with the school nerds when the club was threatened by school budget cuts and argued with the principal to keep it open

(“oh you know what mr. wang? you’re right! I think the school CAN spare some funds for the chess club!”)

did I mention he volunteers his time at the local children’s hospital reading to kids on the weekends when he doesn’t have games or matches?

seriously, how does this kid have so much time for all of these activities

he should have “perfect to take home to your parents” tattooed to his forehead

but you stubbornly try to resist his charms because you think he plays too much

he sits behind you in math class and always compliments the back of your head

“did you curl your hair today? it looks really pretty!”

“thanks jackson…”

offers to walk with you to class and carry your textbooks

“your hands look full, let me help you out!”

“it’s okay jackson…”

(he completely ignores this and takes your books to class anyway)

(he’s running to class so you have no time to protest)

it’s not that you hated jackson wang

based off of his personality, it would be a crime to hate him

but falling for jackson wang was pointless

jackson charmed anyone and flirted with everyone

he received love confessions by the week but politely rejected each and every one of them

no one has ever heard of him being in a relationship which came as a shocker to the whole student body

him? THE jackson wang??? sinGLE??????? HOW???????????

at one point, a rumor flew around that he was gay

why else would he reject the prettiest girls in school?

but you knew better

jackson wang was a free spirit

with all his time spent being so involved in everyone else’s lives, there was no time left to focus on the feelings in his

jackson was seriously the nicest and coolest and cutest guy on the planet

but he just wasn’t serious

so you tried to brush him off when you felt he was playing too much

because you didn’t have time for games

besides, why would a perfect angel of a man-child like jackson wang ever return your serious feelings?

(if you had serious feelings for him, that is)

you literally burned yourself with the curling iron this morning trying to use it as a microphone

how could jackson ever fall for you?

so yeah

falling for jackson wang was FUTILE

anyways,

one day jackson tried to pass you a note during class but you just shot him dirty glances before turning back to the board

“jackson, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“ah sorry, I’ll just ask after class! hehe”

but your teacher had other plans after class

the two of you were asked to stay back (but rest assured, you both weren’t in trouble)

so it turns out there was a downside to jackson’s super-involvement in extracurriculars

his grades had been slipping in math ever since fencing season started

(“I’m sorry sir, we’ve been having tournaments back to back!”)

if he wanted to keep competing, he was going to have to get his grades up

with the help of a tutor

someone who…idk…has the highest grade in class but needed some extra credit to bump it up two grade points to a 100 ???????

what could you say? the universities you were applying to were really competitive

so you begrudgingly agreed to tutor jackson wang until he got his grades up

he would follow you home after school and you’d work with him for an hour

he insisted on going to your house since the days were getting shorter and he didn’t want you to have to walk home alone in the dark all because you had to help him

damn him and his kind heart

through these after school tutor sessions, he got to know your family

as expected, they LOVED HIM

whenever your parents would come home from work, he would stop what ever problem he was doing to talk to them

“hello aunty and uncle, how was work?”

“did you confront your co-worker who was giving you a hard time today?”

“I hear you might be getting a promotion soon. good luck!”

when your younger siblings were around, he’d take a “study break” to play with them

you would have to snap jackson back into focus

“c’mon jackson, you still need to finish this problem set.”

“sorry, we’re almost done solving this puzzle!”

your tutoring sessions would end with the two of you just talking

mostly just jackson asking you questions about yourself and you answering

“what do you like doing on the weekends?”

“idk watch movies? listen to music? I’m pretty boring”

“what kind of movies do you like watching? we should have a movie night one day!”

as much as you were trying to avoid falling for jackson wang, you weren’t about to kick him out of your house

you weren’t rude

and it’s not like you had anything else to do

(you had gotten all your homework done while he was getting friendly with your family)

plus you weren’t this used to having someone be interested in you

inquisitive about you, that is, ahem

even though this was probably just a friendly thing jackson wang does with everyone, you appreciated someone wanting to get to know you just because

so you let him hang around and ask you more questions

soon, the questions were getting to be a bit much to and you were getting annoyed

“jackson you keep asking me questions about me, can you start telling me about yourself?”

jackson was the guy everyone thought they knew through his actions but what people knew about the real him was all just heresay

maybe it was because you were trying to avoid getting too close to him or maybe part of the jackson wang charm was putting the other person in the center of his conversations with them, but after all of his questions, you realized you knew next to nothing about his personal life even though you’d been tutoring him for two weeks

jackson laughed at your sudden outburst

“me? what do you want to know about me?”

it then occurred to you that he also wasn’t used to people asking about him either

(what a kind, selfless person, ugh I hate him)

“anything! what’s your family like? why are you so involved in school? what are you doing after graduation?”

you learned that he grew up in a family of athletes so he’d been in sports for as long as he could he remember

his older brother would pull pranks on him growing up, like telling him their parents found him in the dumpster as a baby and took him home to raise him

but now he really looks up to his older brother and always asks him for advice even though he may be busy

you learned that as a child, he would have a difficult time paying attention and keeping still, so his mom put him in a bunch of activities to keep him occupied

and this probably carried on to high school

but besides how it was affecting his grades, he loved and gave his all in every activity he was involved in

his dad taught him to be kind to others and to give tenfold to those who had nothing to give back to you

which is why he spent his extra time volunteering

plus he enjoyed getting to know the stories of the people he was helping, there was always something to learn in each of them

as for after graduation?

you learned he wasn’t completely sure yet

he didn’t want to say too much because there were just a lot of options up in the air, something about possibly moving to korea because of an opportunity there, but he couldn’t say it out loud so as to not jinx it

so yeah, you learned a lot about him in a span of two hours (and this is just after tutoring, my goodness)

what else did you learn?

you learned you had made a mistake in asking him about his personal life because oh god now this was getting all too real and you found your heart aching at the way he would look down and smile, seeming uncharacteristically shy when talking about something he didn’t tell a lot of people or when his cheeks met his eyes when recalling a funny childhood memory or when his hands moved animatedly while describing a fencing move or the way his laugh was the most boyish most genuine laugh you’d ever heard and you’d want to spend the rest of your life listening to it—

it was happening

no, it happened

you had fallen for THE jackson wang’s charms and he wasn’t even trying

this realization must have translated to worry on your face because jackson stopped himself in the middle of a story about how he got into the chess club to ask you if you were okay

“wha-yeah, I’m fine why wouldn’t I be?”

jackson grabbed your hands and gave them a gentle squeeze before rubbing his thumbs against them soothingly

“you must be worried about college apps”

“what?”

“you mentioned before that some of your deadlines were coming up and you were stressing out about them and I noticed sometimes in math you’re not paying attention to the lesson so you can work on them”

if you weren’t so flustered from him holding your hands, you would have burst out laughing from his conclusion

“right, college apps”

and as if you couldn’t be any more flustered, you soon found your face grow even hotter when jackson reached out with one of his hands to tuck the stray hairs framing your face behind your ears soothingly

his other hand still held yours and he gave it another squeeze before giving you a sweet, reassuring smile

“you are one of the smartest, most hardworking girls I know. you study until the wee hours of the morning not just to get a good grade, but to get the best grade because you won’t settle for anything less. you’re someone who knows what she wants and won’t let obstacles get in her way. you support your classmates when they need help with an assignment or want your input on something and you never put them down or make them feel any less than when they don’t get something right. and hey, you’re helping me get my grades up! if anyone deserves to get into the college of their dreams, it’s you!”

boy had the AUDACITY to boop your nose with his index finger with that last point

and you were frozen

how were you supposed to respond to getting jackson wang’d by jackson wang?

that is until—

“can you stop that?”

jackson, who had been busy stroking your hair as he spoke, was now the one who was frozen

“what do you mean?”

you shifted farther from him on the couch you two shared. you really hadn’t meant for things to end up like this when you started tutoring him.

“I mean, could you stop being so nice to me?”

you must have looked so crazy to him (who doesn’t like it when people are nice to them???) but you kept going

“you keep asking questions about me and you compliment me every day and you notice things about me--heck you’re the only one who notices whenever I curl my hair—”

“how could I not notice you?”

you were sure that with the way your mouth was moving but not forming words, you were giving your best fish impression

“li-like this! you’re just being so nice to me a-and you just need to stop doing that...before I get the wrong idea...”

and the way jackson looked at you after you said this completely melted your heart because he just looked soooo genuinely hurt and concerned for you, with his eyebrows furrowed with worry and his lips pursed as if trying to find the right words to say next

“and what do you mean by...‘wrong idea?’”

and you just stared at him, silently begging him to not let you continue what you were about to say, but he was silently encouraging you to continue

“that you might like me back...then I feel stupid because why would you...why would someone like you--I’m sorry I can’t do this--”

you feel your voice getting caught in your throat and you’re about to make a run for it to your bedroom upstairs when you feel a hand tugging you back to the couch and all of a sudden you’re colliding into jackson’s chest

(it was a good thing your family was out running errands!)

“now can you stop doing that”

you barely register what jackson is saying as you feel the vibrations of his chest as he speaks, his arms holding you in place between his legs so you couldn’t get away again

you’re sitting between jackson wang’s freaking legs!

he takes hold of your arms and repositions you so that you’re forced to look at him

“yeah I’m gonna need you to stop doing that thing everyone else does where they talk about me like I’m all high and mighty, because no one tries to get to know me and it makes me feel isolated from everyone else”

“I’m sorry jackson I didn’t know—”

“and stop talking about yourself like that. I like you because you’re you. you’re smart. you’re polite. whenever I talked to you in school, you never flat out told me to go away even if it seemed like you didn’t want to talk. based on your amazing family, I sense that you’re amazing. you’re working so hard in helping me to raise my math grade. and I really appreciate you trying to get to know me. the real me.”

“wait...so you really like me?”

if you didn’t look so cute in his arms, jackson would have rolled his eyes so hard and smacked you

“of course I do! why else do you think I compliment you every time you curl your hair? or why would I offer to carry your books to class even though I know you’re highly capable?”

“I don’t know...I guess all those times I thought you were just playing around and—”

“how’s this for playing around?”

you didn’t have time to ask what he meant then as you felt his hands gently cup your face and he closed the distance between your lips within seconds

if he wasn’t holding you steady, you swear you would have melted on that couch

the kiss was slow and warm, his lips passionately working against yours, as if silently reassuring you he meant every word he’d said

every little peck telling you how much he cared

and when you finally pulled away from the lack of oxygen, you were sure there was no other place where you were meant to be in that moment

jackson placed his thumb under your chin and moved your head so you were looking at him

“it’s always been you.”

so you two continue on like that for the next couple of weeks

studying, making out, more studying, reward cuddles for studying

and before you know it, jackson’s grades are way above what your teacher needed in order for him to keep competing

but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to study with you

because although he had a tendency to get seriously distracted

he was always serious about you

——

#got7 #got7 imagines #got7 drabbles #got7 scenarios #got7 au #jackson wang #kpop imagines #kpop drabbles #got7 oneshot #kpop scenarios

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mcunibrow · 3 years

Text

chapter 1 (rough draft)

this is the rough draft of the first chapter of a fic i decided to write. The plot basically follows Torunn (a 16 year old girl) as she learns about strange powers that she has, where they come from, the truth about her family, and how she fits in as an Avenger. There might be a little peter x torunn later on, idk yet. Let me know what you think about the first chapter. :) (I also haven’t thought of a title yet, so if anyone has ideas lmk!)

Word Count: 1399

a/n: please please no not copy or steal my writing. all of my writing comes straight from my brain. constructive criticism/feedback is welcomed and encouraged, thank you so much for deciding to read my work!

####

“Torunn Foster to the principal’s office, Torunn Foster to the principal’s office.” The loudspeaker announced.

I looked up from my book that I was reading on the bleachers in the gym. Coach Wilson paused the centuries-old TV that was playing an outdated recording of Captain America telling the class that drugs were bad.

“You heard ‘em! Go, Foster, go!” Wilson yelled at me. I dog-eared my page in my book, and stood up, not acknowledging the unnecessary yelling from Coach. He waited until I had trudged down all the steps of the bleachers and was at the door where he thought I was out of earshot to mumble a “that Foster is always in some kind of trouble”, and played the TV again.

Captain’s voice echoed in my ears all the way down the hall, until I was standing outside of the principal’s office. I looked down at my navy blue basketball shorts and shirt with the science symbol in it, wondering what it would be that I was called in for this time.

I glanced at my scuffed up white tennis shoes, took a deep breath, opening the door to the office.

***

The final bell rang, signaling the end of the day (finally). I pulled my hair into a quick ponytail, put in my headphones, and swung my backpack over my shoulder.

Stepping out of my Physics class, I was met with the usual sound of high schoolers excited to hang out or go home after the day was over. I turned up my ‘80’s’ playlist to drown out the noise, and headed for the front door.

As I shoved through all the bodies blocking my way, I thought about the words that Principal Morita said to me. It turns out, he had nothing new to say. Just the usual “your grades are dropping” and “Let me set you up with a tutor so you can succeed”.

I opened the front door, and was greeted with gray clouds in the sky. This was typical, usually when I felt frustrated the sky would look like this. Just some big cosmic sign or some shit, as my mother says.

I started walking on the sidewalk, humming the tune of Elton John’s “I’m Still Standing”. I fiddled with the paper form that Principal Morita gave me. On the top of the sheet were the words ‘NOTICE OF UNSATISFACTORY WORK’, basically a piece of paper saying that I was failing all of my classes.

The sidewalk turned into the white stripes of a cross walk, but instead of looking to see if it was a red or green light, I kept walking. I was too distracted to notice the shouts that when I looked up, it was too late. All I saw was the white of headlights coming at me, and then nothing at all.

***

Everything was black. I couldn’t see, but I could distinctly hear the sound of a car horn ringing in my ear. Then, the sound of the horn faded into the steady beep, beep, beep of some sort of heart monitor.

I blinked a couple of times, and started to see blurry light. After a few minutes, the room I was in came into focus. I was alone, save a multitude of machines. The room was sterile and white, reminiscent of a hospital, but something about it felt off.

I tried reaching for the blanket that covered my jeans and t shirt up to my chest, when I realized my arms were cuffed down to the table in some sort of metal. Panic set in, and I started thrashing the whole bed around trying to get the cuffs off. Ever since I was a little kid I could bend metal. None of my family really knew how or why, but I was just strong, I guess. But not now.

A door that blended into the wall was opened, exposing a gray hallway, a stark difference from the whites of the room I was trapped in. This was definitely not a hospital, since the man that opened the door was not in scrubs or a white jacket, but instead was wearing a suit. “You should stop pulling on those. They are made of Vibranium. The more you pull, the stronger they get, since they absorb your energy.”

“And who the hell are you?” I spat at the man. He seemed to be in his 40’s, had a hard, aged face, and a little bit of a receding hairline.

“You can call me Phil. I’m not the enemy here. I’m here to help you.” He stepped closer, and pulled a chair from beside the bed that I hadn’t noticed earlier, taking a seat in front of me.

“I’m just kid, I don’t know what you could possibly want from me.” I made my voice sound as innocent as possible, hoping he would let me go from whatever this makeshift hell was.

The lights flickered above my head, and the heart monitor beeping seemed to speed up.

“Just a kid who got hit by a car moving 60 miles an hour, and is up and coherent only two days later. You took some serious damage kid, and not even 72 hours later, your bones have healed and your bleeding has stopped.” He leaned his head on his hands, studying me intensely.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, but seriously I think my mom is going to be really worried about me if I don’t get home soon.” I rambled, discreetly continuing to pull on the shackles holding me down. If I could just get my hands loose, I would pound this grandpa into the ground and bust my way out of here.

“Your mother, Darcy Foster?” He paused, and I nodded my head quietly. He continued, saying, “That’s not your mother.”

I looked at Phil like he grew three heads. Of course she was my mother, there are baby pictures to prove it too. “Yes she is. And how do you know her name? And if you are here to help me, then why am I strapped down to this damn table?” I raised my voice, again trying to pull on the metal to no avail.

“No, Torunn, Darcy’s real name is Darcy Lewis. We don’t know who your true mother is, but that woman’s DNA doesn’t match yours.” He gave me some sort of pitiful look, completely ignoring my questions about why I was cuffed and how he knew my mother’s name. I didn’t believe him. Or, at least, I didn’t want to. I did always find it suspicious that she didn’t like talking about her life before me, let alone the fact that she ‘has no idea’ who my father is. To be fully honest, I have been skeptical of this very thing for a long time, but the last thing I am going to do is let this old Phil guy know that.

When I did not respond, he continued talking. “Your mother’s name is Jane Foster, which is where your last name foster comes from. Your father’s name is Thor.” Phil leaned back in the metal chair, this time waiting for me to acknowledge what he was saying.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Seriously, the dude with the hammer? Whatever, just let me out of here.”

The hint of a smile on his face faded with my laughter, but I honestly didn’t care if I hurt the old man’s feelings. I needed to get home and go back to my life. This guy said I was out for two days, which with my grades, is enough to get me completely suspended from Midtown High.

“I think it’s time we go on a little field trip.” Phil left the room, and shut the door.

Before I could even think about what Phil meant by ‘field trip’, the door opened again, and in walked another man, this one wearing an eye patch. Behind him, two people in black suits, one woman and another man, came and started to fuss with my handcuffs.

“I assume you work for Phil?” I asked the man. At the same time, I felt a pinch in my arm, and started to feel faint.

As everything started to fade, the man laughed, a deep sound that under other circumstances would probably make everyone else in the room laugh too. “Oh, little girl, Phil works for me.”

#marvel #mcu #mcufic #marvelfic #marvelfiction #thor #captainamerica #mcufanfiction

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marksleepy · 6 years

Text

wish upon a scintilla of hope

word count: 4849 worth of fluff and idk like 5% of chensung because they’re such cute best friends a/n: i spent so long on this only @simplyaroha knows. jael i’m so sorry for keeping you waiting LOL. and i want to gift @chenleplanet with this because ryne your love for chenle is unreal and ily <3 i also want to gift @jenoist with this as vivi you’re the nicest and you make me cry jscudnvifjsdb ily2. lastly, gifting you, a reader, with this because i’m thankful that you’re reading this (or going to?). if this is my first fic you’re reading then hello i hope you stay and read my future tales ahaha. if this isn’t the first then hey!! thanks so much for staying. i really appreciate it! merry early christmas everybody. p.s. italicised words are for dream talks and texts in case you get confused

chenle clapping cuz i finally finished this thousand weeks long thing. gif belongs to @nakamotens :) there’s already a watermark on the gif but i’m just doing what’s right

The 11th night of each month—the only night when you don’t dream. Tons of people labour under the misapprehension that they don’t dream every night, but that’s simply because they don’t remember what they were dreaming of.

Tonight, an endless tenebrosity stretches before you.

You think of ‘Hey’, and immediately the word appears in the darkness, faint and in the colour of snow.

There’s no reply. Which sucks as this means you’ll have to spend the next seven hours or so in total nothingness, unless the person at the other end of the country (or world, you don’t know for sure) answers you. It should’ve been somewhere near an hour when a foggy yet enthusiastic ‘Hi!’ comes into view.

Sorry, I was catching up on some homework, it continues.

What time is it? you think instantly.

My phone tells me it was 1:04 am the last time I saw it.

You should start going to bed earlier, loser, you respond.

Communicating with soulmates would’ve been a lot easier if names aren’t eschewed. You’ve tried thinking about the most uncommon names, but they refuse to come to light. This explains why you and your soulmate decided to call each other ‘loser’ on the fourth encounter a few months ago. It’s not the cutest, but it’ll have to do.

Don’t tell me what to do, loser.

Fine. What do YOU want to do?

I don’t know.

You sigh, if that’s even possible at this moment. Do people sigh while dreaming? You assume they do. Tell me more about yourself then. The only thing I know about you is that you’re an annoying boy.

His reply comes a little late. You got the gender right but the adjective wrong. Now let me go to sleep.

You’re already sleeping, dork.

You can almost hear him chuckle. You feel a wistful longing for his voice.

I’m just kidding. What do you want to know about me? His words emerge, a colon and right bracket following close. They join the string of words disappearing above.

The hall is snug after walking in the icy wind outside. The assembly that all students attend religiously will begin in a few minutes. Your eyes dart from one student to another, in search of a boy with lilac hair. But he finds you first.

“I’m right here, Y/N!” Chenle yells, clamping his hands on your shoulders with the largest grin on his face.

“I wasn’t looking for you,” you say, turning around to face him.

His smile seems to get wider if that’s feasible. “Yeah, I believe you.”

You know you’ve lost when a smile threatens to surface.

Every school year starts off with students sitting according to their classes. However, by mid-February (sometimes earlier), the rule is long broken with students scattered everywhere in the hall with their companions from other classes or grades. One clear example is a senior hanging out with a junior, and in this case, Mark and Donghyuck, who are laughing over the funniest joke they’ve ever heard.

“Let’s go look for Jisung,” Chenle says. He clasps your wrist and pushes through the crowd. You feel a strong beat of your heart, something you experience whenever he does that. His touch feels like wearing gloves on a snowy winter day, tucking yourself under a blanket on a cold winter night. You shake your head. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. You can’t be feeling like this. Chenle isn’t your soulmate.

But… It’s okay to prefer someone to your soulmate, right?

You decide that it’s wrong as soon as the question slips. This feeling for Chenle, you convince yourself, is patently temporary. Besides, Chenle doesn’t like you in that way. It’s indubitable.

It also feels extremely strange to enjoy being around someone so much, especially if that someone isn’t who you talk to every 11th night of the month.

Maybe you don’t even like Chenle. So what if you feel accomplished when he laughs heartily at your jokes? So what if your eyes light up every time you see someone with lilac hair on the street (not very often), only to be disappointed when said person wasn’t who you thought it was? So what if you associate love songs with him? So what if your stomach flutters whenever he grabs your hand? So what—

“Y/N? Y/N!” Chenle waves his hand before your face. You blink at him.

“You okay? You seem to be deep in thought,” he continues. He has no idea.

He waves to Jisung. The latter has two empty seats beside him, and he beckons both of you over.

The hall is calmer than before, with most already seated down. Chenle sits between you and Jisung. They start talking about everything imaginable, frequently laughing mid-sentence. Your heart melts at this exuberant duo, and you often catch yourself staring at the older of the pair.

Someone catches you doing so too.

“Somebody’s real busy.”

You snap out of your reverie to see Jisung looking at you knowingly.

Chenle has a look of confusion and embarrassment on his face. “Are we boring you?”

You shake your head just as the principal taps on the microphone twice.

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t really your thing,” Chenle resumes. At this point, you don’t even know what he’s talking about in the first place.

“It’s okay, Chenle,” you reassure him. “You— Both of you never bore me.”

You spend the next hour listening to the principal drone on about God knows what and stealing glances at a boy with lilac hair and inappropriate laughter.

“What’s your soulmate like?” Chenle asks you from his desk. His highlighter is poised over a page of his science textbook as he waits for a reply.

You look up from your calculus worksheet and eye him sceptically from where you’re sitting on the wooden floor of his bedroom. “That’s new.”

“I’m just curious.”

You turn your attention back to the paper resting on your lap as his question replays in your head. You’re at his house studying for a test, mainly to seek for warmth. It isn’t snowing, but it’s freezing. You’d left your house keys on your desk and aren’t keen to be outdoors making beats with your teeth. Also, no one will be home until dusk.

“He’s nice,” you murmur. “Funny.”

Chenle goes back to highlighting some texts, occasionally writing on Post-it notes. “Do you, uh, like him?”

If you were brave, you would say, “No. I like you.”

But you aren’t, so you say, “I guess.”

Chenle’s tense shoulders sag. He leans his back on the chair, tapping his pen on the edge of his desk.

“What about you? Do you like your soulmate?” you question. You look at the naked trees outside with gnawing uneasiness in your stomach.

“Yeah"—his cheeks redden slightly—"but I…

“Nothing. We’re supposed to be studying.” He pulls his chair closer to the desk and uncaps another highlighter. You want to argue that he’d started talking first but decided against it.

The next time he talks to you is to ask you what you want to have for dinner.

You spend your days taking tests, hanging out with friends, and being muddled by Chenle’s behaviour.

“Did I say something wrong?” You and Jisung are standing outside the soccer field, the question accompanied by your foggy breath tumbling out your mouth before you can stop it. Jisung stops observing the senior practising his kicks and turns his head to look at you.

“What?”

“It’s nothing. Chenle’s just being strange.”

Jisung clears his throat. “He is?”

You spot Chenle running wildly on the field, engaged in a friendly match with some sophomores.

“Not now. But when we’re alone he becomes awkward.”

“Maybe he, I don’t know, likes you?” Jisung pushes his bangs out of his face. “How’s alone time with him?”

You look down at the ground, fingers gripping the fence, face pink from the cold and something else. “Don’t phrase it that way.”

“Here comes lover boy.”

You grimace at his words. Chenle skips towards you and Jisung, his hair sticking to his forehead and shirt soaked in sweat despite the numbing temperature. Jisung wraps a towel around the older and helps him put on his coat. “That was fun. Thanks for waiting for me.”

Chenle reaches for your hand and freezes at once.

Jisung doesn’t seem to notice anything. He takes off first, shoving his hands in his winter coat. “Remind me to hit you when I can feel my hands again.”

Chenle chuckles, and you can’t say you relate to Jisung. It feels like you’re touching hot coal.

Chenle once told you receiving coals for Christmas wasn’t bad at all. “Just burn them and roast marshmallows.”

You had watched the fire flicker through his eyes.

Chenle’s hair is dyed a hazelnut brown colour when you see him in school. It’s as if your lungs are caught in a mesh and entangled. The air feels thick and suffocating.

“What do you think?” is the first thing he says when your eyes meet.

You force yourself to breathe. “What happened to lilac hair? That was such a look, man.”

“I got tired of people giving me weird looks.”

And why would people do that? You can’t understand why a change of his hair colour has this big of an effect on you.

You shrug, trying to look nonchalant. “It looks good on you.”

You nearly miss the way his face reddens as he looks down at his dirty Converse.

“Y/N…

Y/N.

Y/N!”

“What do you want, Chenle?”

“Look at me.”

He raises his right hand up to your left cheek and draws comforting, tingly circles with his thumb. Then he’s leaning in, closer. He looks at you through half-closed lids before coming closer. Closer.

“Y/N. I…”

You feel your heart throbbing loudly in your ears, like drums beating on the street during festivals.

You don’t feel anything on your lips. But your eyes stay closed.

“Y/N.”

You love hearing your name roll so effortlessly off his tongue. You love it. You love him.

“Y/N. I—”

“You what?”

“I swear if you don’t get up right now I’ll really kill you!”

You shoot up from your laying position, your hair a mess and your eyes swollen with sleep. Jisung stands at the foot of your bed, his hands on his hips as he lours at you.

“What are you doing in my room?” you ask, groggy.

“Are you serious?”

You free your legs from your woollen blanket and shudder when your feet touch the gelid floor.

“We were supposed to study at Chenle’s, remember?” Jisung sighs. “Clearly not.”

You give him a bashful smile, eyeing the bedroom doorway.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently. “He isn’t here. He’s helping his mum with groceries.”

“I wasn't—”

“Just get ready and meet us at his place, Y/N.” He gives you one last look before disappearing down the hallway. “Your face is red. Do you want me to open the windows?”

“I thought you were joking!” You uncap the half-filled bottle then cap it after a second. “Who associates Jisung with textbooks and homework?”

Jisung throws a tiny ball of paper at you. “Judgemental. I do study.”

“Stop it, you two,” Chenle chuckles. “Let’s actually get stuff done. We can also ask Y/N since she’s the smartest one here.”

“She is?” Jisung snorts. He earns a punch on the arm from you while your face glows with embarrassment.

So the three of you study. Chenle and Jisung have tests on different subjects this week but you don’t. You work on your assignment, which is a research on a historical building. Apart from occasional questions from the duo, the room is otherwise quiet. It’s slowly getting dark, the sun dipping below the horizon.

You look at Chenle discreetly. His eyelids are pink from him rubbing them. He looks cute when he’s serious and focused. There’s a knock on the door before Chenle’s mum pops her head into the room and smiles. “Dinner’s ready if any of you are hungry. Don’t overwork yourselves, alright?”

There are hums and nods, then the room is quiet again. It can’t have been more than five minutes when Jisung says, “Guys! It’s snowing!”

Turns out there are only little specks of snow, much to everyone’s (Jisung’s) disappointment. With the assignment and scrawled notes forgotten in Chenle’s bedroom, you and the pair stand outside just in case white flakes fall again, wriggling about to stay warm.

“This is annoying,” Jisung groans.

Chenle nudges him playfully. “There are a lot more days to come, Jisung.”

Jisung merely shrugs and says he’s hungry. Everyone trudges back into the house, relieved to soak in its warmth.

It’s late when Jisung leaves Chenle’s house, which is starting to slowly lose its heat. The sky is an inky black but there are no visible stars due to the light-polluted city that Chenle lives in. You sit on his cabin bed, head tilted towards the night sky, watching a scintilla in the midst of the darkness.

Your eyes drift to Chenle. He yawns and rubs his eyes for the nth time.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Take a break.”

He stifles another yawn, pushes his arms in the air and stretches. “My mum will murder me if I fail this class again.”

“She did tell us not to overwork ourselves.”

His smile appears. He pushes his chair back and ambles towards the bed to sit beside you. “What are you doing?” He bumps his shoulder against yours.

You point to the tiny spark in the sky.

“Ooh,” he gushes. “Let’s make a wish.”

“That’s not a shooting star, Chenle.”

“That’s fine. I made a wish at camp last year when I thought I saw one. Until I realised it was Renjun throwing a piece of trash across the campsite.”

One end of Chenle’s lips is lifted, and soon both of you are collapsing into gales of laughter.

“What did you wish for?” Chenle asks.

You shake your head, grinning. “Secret.”

It’s the 11th night of the month again. You go to bed quite early, feeling completely knackered from interminable assignments. You wait and wait, looking at lyrics of your favourite song arise as you think of it.

This soulmate of yours sure sleeps late.

All of a sudden, a Hey pops up.

Hi, you reply in your head.

Sorry, I forgot that it’s the 11th.

I have a question.

What is it?

You pause, letting the words disappear as they go higher. You think of your question. Do you like anybody?

Yeah.

He awaits what you have for him next.

Then, have you confessed to that person?

No. I’m too scared to do that.

How do you cope?

Uh, I have a blog where I write what I want to say to her. Yeah, it’s cheesy so go ahead and laugh at me.

You feel yourself smiling. No it’s not. It’s cute.

I can show you it if you want. No one knows about it except for my best friend, only because I foolishly left the page open while I went to the bathroom. That’s how embarrassed I feel about it. But now you know.

I’m honoured.

The website and username he uses show up in a minute. You know the website well, however, he has an odd username—practically like everyone on this planet. It reminds you of Chenle with his strange usernames for all eight of his accounts.

“Why 'dirtykitchenfloor’?” you had choked out. “'terrifyingpickle’. I’m leaving.”

Chenle had grabbed your hand, all but laughing. “Don’t. I have six more.”

You there? These two words knock you back to the blackness.

Yeah. I was thinking about some stuff.

Like the person you like?

What? No. Thanks for reminding me though, I’ll go think about him now.

HAHAHA—pause—well have fun. I’ll be here, roaming.

You imagine the lilac-now-hazelnut hair boy standing beside you outside in the snowy city. The street lamp winks as snow starts to pile up atop and around it. His hair is sprinkled with stardust and snowflakes. His eyes twinkle and his hand feels like a cup of hot chocolate. The fallen snow feels soft beneath your shoes.

Everything feels right.

“I think I’m in love,” Jisung says dreamily.

It’s a frosty afternoon, and you find yourself again with Jisung and Chenle, everyone either sprawled on Jisung’s bed or floor. Drinks and bags of snacks litter the ground. No one pays attention to them.

A weird noise escapes Chenle’s mouth. “With who?”

“My soulmate.”

You snigger and say, “They’re called soulmates for a reason.” You then remember that Chenle isn’t yours. You also don’t know if it’s bad that your soulmate likes someone else. You figure it isn’t, knowing you’re not breaking any hearts around here and you like someone else too.

Jisung prattles on about his soulmate. You nod blankly, and catch Chenle gazing at you. He points to Jisung covertly before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. There’s a beam on your face.

“You aren’t even listening to me,” Jisung groans. “Stop flirting with each other.”

“At least I have someone to flirt with,” Chenle sneers.

A thick shade of red mantles your cheeks. “S-stop talking nonsense.”

Chenle looks at you the way a child would look when he’s caught going through presents on the night before Christmas. A reddish hue branches out across his fair complexion.

Jisung’s frown steadily turns into a soft knowing smile. “Since I’m done talking about my amazing love life, it’s your turn. The smarter person starts first.”

The branch tapping on the windows is the only thing disturbing Jisung’s hushed bedroom. You wonder why he hasn’t gotten rid of it. You’d find it difficult to fall asleep on a blustery night.

“So none of you are smart? Not a surprise to me, I guess,” Jisung teases.

“My soulmate has a blog where he writes what he wants to say to the person he likes down,” you begin, ignoring Jisung’s raillery.

Jisung lets out an impressed-sounding “huh” the same time Chenle says, “That’s stupid.”

A grim line forms on your mouth as you stare at him. “I don’t think it is.”

"Really?” Chenle coughs deliberately. “That seems so cowardly.” Jisung cocks his head a little to the right twice out of habit, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches the exchange between you and Chenle. “I think it’s stupid too,” the younger of the pair blurts out.

Chenle glares at Jisung. “No, it’s not.”

“You said it was! I’m just agreeing with you.”

“I’m just… just agreeing with Y/N.”

You snicker as they start to banter. They stop and stare at you, and soon the room is filled with three friends who are attacked by uncontrollable laughter.

Jisung wipes at his eyes and after he’s calmed down, he says, “I wanna love like Y/N’s soulmate.”

“Me too,” Chenle says, albeit having a faraway look in his eyes.

“Don’t you already?”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Sh-shut up!” Jisung mimics. Chenle simply gets up and flicks Jisung’s forehead. He whines in pain and flicks the former back. You sit up on the spot on Jisung’s bed and smile.

Happy. Happy is what you feel.

You don’t know how you or Chenle do it, but it’s three in the morning when you finally shut your laptop and let out a wavering cry. “I’m done. Spent.”

“Let’s get some sleep.” Chenle yawns, lumbering to his bed and pulling the sheets over his entire body.

“Throw me a pillow and blanket.”

“What?” Chenle peers at you. “You’re not sleeping on the floor. It’s not carpeted and it’s freezing.”

“I’ll be fine, worrywart.”

“Who even says that?” He gives you a blue pillow dotted with white clouds and a soft blanket. “You wanna swap spots instead?”

“Go to sleep, Chenle.” You tuck yourself under the blanket, which comes with his scent and a hint of flowery laundry detergent. With heavy and teary eyes from yawning too much, you lie facing the ceiling, the floor a tad cold for comfort. Your mind threatens to drag you to sleep, until a weak voice breaks the silence of the night.

“Are you asleep?”

“Yes,” you mumble, your eyes shut, hardly able to contemplate what you’re saying.

He laughs lightly. “I can’t sleep. Talk to me.”

“Nice.”

“Y/N.”

“Chenle,” you mutter, pulling the blanket up till it covers your chin.

“Cat.”

“Dolphin.”

Right now you’re starting to wake up. You lie on your side and prop the side of your head in your palm, facing him. He mirrors your position.

“I actually hate you,” you quip.

“No you don’t.”

“Right for once.”

He closes his eyes, his head drooping. You study his soft features, feeling your eyes beginning to close again. Your head hits the pillow and you pull the blanket over your shoulder. Your teeth chatter slightly, but that’s okay—you’re too tired to care anyway.

You wake up when the sky is still black and starless. Chenle’s scent seems to have gotten stronger. You sit up, using your elbows as support, only to see the bed empty and rumpled. Something breathes against your arm, and you almost smack yourself from pulling back too fast.

There you see Chenle curled up beside you on the ground like a foetus. His blanket is thrown over you, but it’s riding off his body, his tummy exposed to the cold. You remove his blanket from yourself and cover him up to the neck. He stirs but stays asleep, sighing with satisfaction.

“You’re an odd one,” you whisper in the unlit room. “I don’t mind it one bit.”

You mirror his position this time, dreams taking you on different adventures—all of them with this boy who makes you feel warmer this winter.

“You chose to sleep on the floor when you have a bed,” you say between munches of your cereal the next morning.

“I didn’t choose.” Chenle dips his bread in your bowl of milk. “I fell off the bed.”

“Ha ha. Remind me to laugh again later.”

Tap tap.

Jisung stands at the door. Chenle opens it to reveal him clad in a sweater, coat and fuzzy pants with matching shoes.

“Pfft, what are you wearing?” you joke. You spoon some cereal into your mouth.

“Yes good morning and thanks for inviting me to the sleepover,” Jisung says, throwing his bag on the floor and plopping himself down on the high stool opposite you.

Chenle returns to the stool to your left. He pulls his bread apart and waves a piece at Jisung. “You turned us down!”

“Oh right. Because you two are boring.”

“And somehow you like hanging out with us?” you say with amusement.

“Whatever,” Jisung says. “So… are the two of you a thing now?”

Chenle splutters on his juice, orange liquid flying out his mouth. You feel the heat on your face even though the cold air that followed Jisung in is still lingering in the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Jisung laughs, slapping him on the back.

You rub your temples. “It’s too early for this.”

“I thought you talked things through last night.”

“Just shut up, Jisung. Eat your cereal,” Chenle rebukes. He hops off the stool to go wash his mouth at the sink. Jisung shakes his head in disappointment.

can you come out now? reads Chenle’s text at 12 in the morning.

You compose a new message. I don’t plan on getting murdered by either one of my parents tonight

please

omg fine. why are you here so late

i just wanted to see you

Your heart leaps in your chest. ok chenle.

You drape your woollen blanket around you and lift your window up, feeling like those furtive teenagers in movies. An icy gust of wind slaps your cheeks, but the coldness dissipates when you see Chenle stomping on the crunchy ice on the gravel path outside, his hands shoved deep into his coat pocket.

“You okay?” you say after jumping from your window sill (cautiously).

“Can I ask you a question?” he says with foggy breath.

“Yeah. I mean we’re already here.”

He closes his eyes and gulps. “Can I kiss you?”

“Chenle…”

He blocks your view by putting his hand before your eyes. “Don’t look at me. I’m embarrassed.”

You grab his arm with your shaky one and pull him towards you. He’s so close your cloudy breaths mingle. It’s a test to see who makes the first move.

He does.

And your lips feel like it’s on fire.

He really is an odd one, but you don’t mind it one bit.

You fall asleep with pink cheeks that night and the feeling of Chenle’s hand at the back of your neck, spreading warmth throughout your body.

Hey loser. I kissed him. You’re starting off bold tonight. You couldn’t care less.

In a split second, your reply comes. Really?

Yes, really.

How was it?

It was… I don’t know.

Like you were going to melt? Like you were floating with the clouds?

Yes. Very much.

I felt like that too.

You think of the winter spice jelly sitting in the fridge, knowing completely how it feels. Because you’re just as stiff as it is.

You refuse to analyse the words. Ohh, you kissed her too?

I did. I went to her house 30 minutes before it turned 12. Stood outside considering if I should just go home and keep my feelings bottled up forever, or put our friendship at risk by doing it.

You feel like tearing up. I think you did the right thing.

Me too.

You search for the hazelnut hair boy in the crowded hall. It’s been tougher as almost everyone has that same hair colour. Mark and Donghyuck are chaffing each other; a group of juniors—Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin—enters the hall, chatting incessantly. Pretty much a common sight to see.

A hand rests on your shoulder from behind.

“I know I know,” Chenle grins. “You weren’t looking for me.”

“You knew?” you ask. Both of you move to a less packed area.

He nods. “But it was after I told you about the blog.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought you were smart enough to figure it out.”

You scoff, but a smile forces its way onto your face.

“I guess I’m smarter than you in some way,” he adds, punching you lightly on the biceps.

“Guys!” Jisung bounces towards you and Chenle. He eyes you suspiciously, before moving his attention to Chenle. “So… Are you two a thing now?”

You exchange glances with Chenle.

“Shut up, Jisung.”

Jisung doesn’t get an actual answer, but you’re sure he knows when he laughs with you and Chenle.

“I can’t believe you have a blog filled with your feelings about me,” you tease. “How cheesy.”

“Can we not talk about that now?” Chenle groans, covering his face with his hands. “You said it was cute.”

“It is.”

“I’ll just delete it later and stop liking you.”

You reach for his hands, fisting and trapping them in your palms. “No. I need to read it when you start losing feelings for me.”

“Then I guess you won’t be reading it at all.”

You and Chenle walk under the jet black sky side by side, enjoying the wind’s whispers. His tickles your palm with his pinky and says, “I have more stuff I want to say to you.”

“Go ahead.”

“You’ll have to wait for the 11th.”

You realise your wish came true even before you made it.

a/n: hey!! you made it to the end! for this i want to say thank you once again and i hope you enjoyed this. low-key found the part where renjun threw trash across the campsite funny LOL

#nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #chenle scenarios #nct chenle #zhong chenle #nct fluff #chenle fluff #soulmate #soulmate!au #it's 6 am rip #jet lagged ok #falalalala lalalala

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mcjour · 4 years

Text

the other day S reached out of me out of the blue to ask about what happened during the retreat. kinda caught me off guard. also, I remember S was a toxic friend to the point where i knew i had to end it, but I think I blacked out whatever it was that she did due to (other) trauma. i literally don’t remember what she did. So that’s awkward. but we are friendly and have just casual conversations, so i can live with whatever pseudo friendship we have.

and honestly it was a good conversation. i gave her the play by play of what i could remember from each of the days. and she was like wow what a shitshow. but then she disagreed about the last day. long story short, if anyone is reading this without context, the second day we did this shitty ass cross the line activity that was highly triggering and traumatic for everyone, (in what workplace is it appropriate to say cross the line if youve been sexually assaulted and make eye contact with the people across the line and other similar intrusive questions) but especially hard for me given that i have quite a lifetime of trauma and cptsd on top of it. so by the next day, i had totally lost my mind. like full mental breakdown triggered by my ptsd, lost control of my mind and body, felt like i was drowning, having trouble breathing, had weird visions of me cutting myself, etc. So i said listen like i need to go home, i can’t stay here any longer i am very sick, i literally can’t stop crying and i don’t even know what is going on. but they forced me to stay so i sat out of the activity. it was a bad situation because they activity changed to be a conversation about race. i knew i shouldn’t sit out of it as a white person, but like i’m not kidding when i said that i was very sick. they made me make a split second decision when my brain was fried and i chose to sit out, thinking that the last thing that the people of color in the room needed was me uncontrollably sobbing in the corner and taking up space during a very tense conversation (there were other events that led up to this tense atmosphere). i fully intended to try to catch up on what i missed, but also knew it would be no substitution for the real thing.

anyway S was saying that if she was there, she would’ve been upset that i was in the room and i totally got that. if anything, i have been waiting to have that conversation since that day, but my therapist is not quite there to have that conversation, she’s a white lady and while i think she generally is good about social justice issues, she would definitely be like oh no! you’re not racist! kind of a thing. S and I were on the same page, I think. We agreed that i was very triggered in put in a bad position where like no matter what i chose would be a bad choice sort of a thing. it wasn’t anything “new” but it helped clear things up all the same. and maybe she is right, maybe i DID make the wrong choice. But like I said, both choices were bad and i was literally not even in the right mind to make any decision let alone that. S was also saying that she would’ve understood anyway, because this was like a one time situation and she knows i am constantly standing up and speaking up on social justice issues and she would know i was supportive even if i wasn’t in the room.

SO yeah. i left that conversation feeling good. ok not good. but felt like i had some clarity and i thought it was a productive conversation and we both listened to each other even though we were initially kinda disagreeing.

anyway turns out that wasn’t the end of hte conversation. the next morning she was brining up some of the people we both knew and she also mentioned someone had been talking shit about me to her and i was like oh? and she sent me screenshots.

the screenshot looked like it was in june, so it was in response to something else, not specifically my latest expose LOL.

but basically this girl V was like saying that i am biased in my hate against the organization, i can’t separate my feelings from what is actually going on, i was fired because i caused harm to my team and with teachers and never take accountability for my actions.

would love to know how V thinks she knows all this shit..? like where is she getting this info?? her own asshole??? or fed to her from my abusive boss’ friend? like?? what’s happening???

can’t separate my feelings from what’s happening?? ok... so where do you think my feelings are coming from if not from what’s happening....? did i just pull some hate out of my ass? like i don’t just hate shit for no good reason LOL.

yep, i did cause harm to my team and and i took accountability and i actively worked on it and got positive feedback for it. so i’m confused what is happening here. did i right every wrong before i was fired? no. but to say i didnt take accountability is ... wrong.

the thing is just that i don’t just view actions in a vacuum. so there were legitimate things happening that caused me to act the ways that i did. aka my abusive boss fucking with my head. of course i struggled to support my team when my boss made it clear that she would never consider me a part of the team. and i don’t say that to shift the blame from me to her. but you can’t just focus on me and not her role in that?

and it’s wild you say that i caused harm on the team and with teachers? because my boss did all of that and at least ten times worse than i ever did and she didn’t get fired.

ALSO they told me i was getting fired for my mental health issues. which is fucked up. maybe they lied and V is right? i doubt that first of all. but ok, even if they did, they did tell me i was leaving as a compelling personal circumstance, on good terms, would still be eligible for my scholarship. of course i never got that scholarship because they asked for wild fake documents. BUT if i was getting fired for doing such a bad job, wouldn’t they have told me that? or at the very least not told me i was leaving on good terms??? IDK is it legal to lie in an exit meeting?

and also wtf is the harm with teachers???????? i know my boss accused me of shit talking her with the teachers but that simply was not true lol. a lot of teachers actually came up to me on their own accord to shit talk my boss LOL. they decided on their own that she was shitty, they had their own eyes and ears and brains. but even then i would redirect them and tell them to talk to my boss about their problems with her! the only thing i can think of was a situation with the teacher next door.

the teacher next door hated her cy. she liked me better. it was super awkward. she was also really good friends with my teacher. so i was put in a weird uncomfortable position where i liked her (as a friend/ coworker lol) so i felt awkward telling her off especially when there was this power difference of her being a teacher and then with her being friends with my teacher too. like if i told her to fuck off, would i ruin my relationship with my partner teacher? my partner teacher was all i had left because of the way that my abusive boss isolated me from everyone else. i admit that i believed this teacher over the cy and i have since talked to the cy and we both apologized and understood each other’s perspectives so like, as bad as i feel, there’s nothing else to be done, i guess. well, not that i could do anything so long after the fact anyway. and like it wasn’t llike i did absolutely nothing anyway. i kept in contact with my manager about it but like i was already overworked and underpaid and all that and sorry but im getting paid below the poverty line so trying to solve this weird dispute that has nothing to do with me is a bit above my pay grade

but here’s the kciker: this woman was literally a pedophile who was manipulating all of us! like me, my teacher, the cy, even up to the assistant principal! so hello! no wonder i felt so trapped! how the hell was i supposed to outsmart a pedophile at this below entry level job! and i don’t say that to get out of accountability, V. trust me, it eats at me to know that i was blind to a lot of fucked up shit that was happening. but once again, actions don’t happen in a vacuum. this woman was a manipulative mastermind and she used us as her puppets! dude i am 24 years old and this is my first job out of college and how the hell was i supposed to see that coming without any training.

so i would love to know how v came to these shit ass conclusions without ever stepping into my school or into my life or having a single ounce of perspective.

which is so fucking wild to me because these people are working with highly traumatized kids????? so if y’all keep viewing everything through your stupid tunnel vision eyes then you are gonna fuck some kids up the way you fucked me up.

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renee-walker · 7 years

Text

fic: forget your perfect offering

I wanted Carol to wear a pretty dress (this is the one I was thinking of, in case anyone’s interested), and then this happened. If you’re expecting any sort of plot or wildness like that, please don’t even click the read more, because you’ll be so disappointed as it’s pretty much allllll smush (with a tiny bit of angst). Idk, apparently I just have ~7k worth of random feelings about them is all.

The title is from Leonard Cohen’s ‘Anthem,’ which is one of my favorite songs in this universe.

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

She tries to escape the dance by volunteering to take three consecutive shifts on watch that night.

"You've been pulling at least twice your share for three weeks now." Rosita, arms folded across her sweaty green tank top, snaps a tiny bubble in her disturbingly neon orange gum and stares knives at Carol. "And I'd rather fuck a snake right now than put on some shitty dress and pretend to smile until my face cracks, so you're not stealing my shift."

Aaron's less abrasive but equally stubborn. "Eric and I already figured it all out. I work first shift so he can tend bar and then it's date night. We haven't danced to actual music in years." She doesn't miss the nostalgic expression that flashes over his features and vanishes all too quickly. He pauses, blue eyes darting to different locations on her face as if he's scared that meeting her gaze directly might result in scary consequences. "Besides, I think everyone's-" He stops, words floating like bubbles in the cinnamon-and-clove-scented air of the kitchen. "Everyone's missed you."

Her stomach twists, so many emotions colliding that she imagines she can hear their crunch on impact. But she sets her jaw firmly, determined to keep everything light. Anything else and the cracks might widen and she's not ready to-

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, she stabs a fork into the steaming piece of apple pie on the plate in front of her and shrugs. "I'm almost sure I'm gonna get the flu that night." Throwing him a highly determined look, she blows on the bite of pie not so much because she wants to eat it but because it gives her something to do.

Aaron sighs, and his shoulders drop with a touch of defeat. "Well I wish you wouldn't 'get the flu,'" he says, mocking her with air quotes. "And I'm sure-" He grabs the knife and slices his own piece of pie, swearing and sticking his index finger in his mouth when he burns it while trying to make the transfer to his plate. "I'm sure everyone else does, too."

He leaves her standing in the middle of the quiet kitchen, her only company a crushing sense of panic and a cooling piece of the pie she spent two hours making but no longer wants.

_________________________

She's not even sure whose goddamn idea the dance was.

Probably Tara's.

Or Aaron's.

Even Jesus's, if he was in one of his festive moods.

But ever since they miraculously managed to drive the Saviors away, everyone's been simmering with a dangerous, tantalizing buzz of hope. And somehow, tomorrow night's dance has become the tangible symbol of defiance.

She just wants to spend the night in the watchtower.

Stars, birds, soft wind, night sky, and the cool, comforting bite of her rifle's chill metal under the pads of her fingers.

_________________________

Carol's barely shut the door of her room behind her when a soft knock makes her jump.

Go the hell away, she thinks.

"Come in," she says.

The knob turns and Michonne sticks her head in. "Bad time? I can come back if you're busy."

Carol shakes her head, probably too quickly to be convincing. "It's fine. Do you need me for something?"

Michonne walks all the way into the room and shuts the door behind her, turning to reveal one of the most beautiful dresses Carol's ever seen draped over her arm.

It's a rich, deep burgundy. Floor length. Lace over satin. Cap sleeves and a neckline designed to show off collarbones and . . . whatever else.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Carol closes her hand into a ball to keep from reaching out and touching the fabric, although she's relieved to realize that at least this time her smile feels genuine.

But the sly smirk that transforms Michonne's face instantly erases Carol's half second of ease. "You wish." Michonne walks over and holds the dress level with Carol's shoulders, leaning back to give herself a better view. "Damn, that man has you memorized," she mutters under her breath before carefully stretching the dress across Carol's bed, smoothing the fabric to avoid wrinkles. "It's what you're wearing," she announces dramatically. "And you're gonna look so perfect I'll probably be pissed."

"Listen, I don't know what-"

Michonne silences her with an outstretched hand. "Look, I can't make you put this on and come to the party. But ever since you-" She trails off, rubbing at some dirt on the edge of her arm before she looks back up at Carol. "It would be great to have you there with us to celebrate." She shrugs and then reaches out, her fingers gently squeezing Carol's forearm. "You're one of the reasons we're even alive to do this, and everybody knows that. So promise me you'll at least think about it?"

Carol hesitates, pressing her fingernails into her palm.

Michonne turns toward the door, stopping when her hand closes over the knob. "Enid even asked if she could do your makeup. And Carl's so happy you're back."

Damn, you're good, Carol thinks, her insides spinning like a washing machine on the high-speed cycle.

"I'll think about it," she mutters, glancing again at the dress's vibrant sheen.

"Good."

"Michonne?"

She stops halfway through the door and looks back. "Yeah?"

"Where'd this dress come from?"

Michonne grins, her eyes lit up with some kind of mischief that makes Carol even more uncomfortable. "Daryl brought it back from a run a few days ago. He said he was trying to make sure everyone who wanted to go had something to wear, but strangely enough, you're the only woman in these walls with the right proportions to fit that dress." She lifts a nonchalant shoulder, each word and gesture steeped in sass. "Probably coincidence though."

The door clicks shut before Carol has a chance to respond.

She reaches for the dress, smoothing the satin between her thumb and forefinger.

Irresistibly drawn to the softness.

_________________________

When Carol was in seventh grade, four days before the very first middle school dance, Bobby Davidson stopped by her locker after eighth period and -- with bright red cheeks and feet that couldn't settle for even a second -- asked her if she wanted to go with him.

She and her best friend Katie McKinnon (her full name was Kathleen but she hated it) had both had a crush on Bobby since he moved into their district halfway through fourth grade. Once she'd blushed four hundred shades of pink, nodded shyly, and watched him walk toward the front entrance with a new bounce in his stride, the first thing Carol thought was that Katie would most likely kill her.

But that whole problem was solved five minutes later, when Katie careened around the corner from the band room, practically skidded to a halt in front of their lockers, and announced with what seemed to be the last breath she had left in her, "Oh my god, Carol. Parker Thompson just asked me to go to the dance with him."

(Parker Thompson was only the most popular boy in middle school. He never wore jeans, only those creased khaki pants with the tailored cuffs. He was captain of the basketball team and his dad drove a white Mercedes that remained mysteriously clean, regardless of the weather. His grades would have put him at the top of their class if Carol hadn't already occupied that spot by a comfortable margin.

He didn't like her very much, but apparently that hadn't discouraged him from liking her best friend.)

And just like that, there was nothing to worry about except what to wear and how to fix her hair.

_________________________

Katie almost hyperventilated in Carol's bathroom while they were finishing each other's makeup. Carol dropped the tube of fuchsia lipstick on the counter and pushed her friend's head between her knees. "Breathe slowly, okay?"

It took a few minutes and some distraction from ABBA, but before long Katie was dusting peach-colored blush over her cheeks and kissing a white square of toilet paper to blot her lipstick. "How did you even get my hair to look this perfect?" she asked Carol, her dark blond curls shiny in the bright bathroom light.

Carol grinned, grabbing Katie's hand. "Come on, they're waiting!"

Bobby Davidson bought her a white lily wrist corsage that looked perfect against the deep blue taffeta dress she'd spent six months of babysitting money on.

Skinny and awkward, they slow danced to Elvis and Otis Redding, knees and elbows jutting everywhere.

Bobby talked a lot about cars and basketball, and Carol listened eagerly, not so much because she was fascinated by his choice of subject material but because she was so grateful not to have to come up with topics herself.

They drank bright red Hawaiian Punch that was much too sweet and made Carol feel lightheaded and almost sick.

After the dance and a quick reshuffling to spread chairs on the gym floor, Principal Adamson put on Casablanca.

When Ilsa said, "Kiss me as if it were the last time," Bobby pulled Carol's sweaty hand into his lap and laced his fingers with hers.

She stared at the screen with glistening eyes and a slamming heart, convinced that nothing on earth would ever make her feel so important again.

But that was another lifetime.

Back when hope wasn't roughly synonymous with poison.

Back when she still believed there was magic left in the world.

_________________________

Sophia never went to a dance.

She never frowned at herself in the mirror, trying to blot her lipstick just right or pluck her eyebrows or figure out how much to curl her hair.

She never held up dress after dress, finding some tiny flaw in each one until she dropped dramatically onto the bed, too overwhelmed with her choices to make a decision.

She never paced the length of her own room in precariously high heels, trying to master the art of balance before the big night.

She never lifted her chin for her first kiss, Cherry Coke and bubble gum chapstick and the rush of endless possibility.

Carol wishes she could think of anything else as she squeezes her sheet into her fists and rearranges her body in bed for what has to be the fifteenth time.

But she'll never know what it would have been like, kissing her baby goodbye and watching her disappear in a swirl of perfume and laughter.

One more question mark she'll never erase.

In the empty darkness she buries her face in her pillow and desperately hopes heaven exists, even if she might not make it.

_________________________

The next morning she wakes up before the sky is even light.

She wiggles around for a few minutes before giving up and staring at the ceiling, counting the minutes before she can reasonably go downstairs and find a way to distract herself from the inevitable.

The dress is draped over the back of the chair by her bed, taunting her with a slight shine from the hall light.

She shuts her eyes and turns away, curling her body into the cool softness of her pillow.

And the thing is, she's glad to be back. She is.

But nothing's natural. Not yet.

She still halts conversations just by walking into a room.

People she doesn't even know give her curious, sympathetic looks when she passes them on her way to take watch.

(She wonders what Rick and Tobin told them about her abrupt departure, but she doesn't care enough to ask.)

Daryl's the only person she doesn't seem to make uncomfortable just by breathing.

_________________________

She isn't sure exactly how it happened, but the two of them have fallen into the habit of taking a walk together after dinner.

The first night they all eat together, she ducks out just so she can breathe, so the walls stop moving closer. And a second later she can feel him beside her, the cadence of his footsteps so familiar she doesn't even have to glance sideways.

"I'll go if you wanna be alone," he blurts out before she can even think of something to say. She can't fight the tug at the edges of her mouth. He's so free of bullshit, so accepting of whatever she does or doesn't give back. And maybe, just maybe, that's why he's the only person who helps quiet the screaming in her her brain rather than amplifying it by a factor of ten.

"No, stay." She sneaks a glance at him but he's staring down the road, a dark smear of grease still decorating the side of his neck from when he was working on one of the trucks earlier. "I just needed fresh air for a minute."

"Yeah." She thinks he might add something else, but in his usual fashion he falls silent and lets his stride slip into rhythm with hers.

He doesn't say another word through the entire loop around Alexandria, but the quiet isn't awkward or strained.

When they're almost to the steps of the house, his fingers brush her upper arm so softly she'd think she imagined it if she hadn't seen it happen. "Hey. You okay?" His voice is still so scared, and she's slammed again with the realization that he's not remotely convinced she won't run.

"Yeah, I am."

He nods, but remains still, his body showing no signs of movement toward the house.

"Daryl."

He looks at her then, his face a mess of emotions she wasn't ready to deal with the day he showed up at the door of her house and she isn't ready to deal with now. But she manages to keep her voice firm and strong when she says, "I mean it. I'm okay."

"Gonna walk again tomorrow night?"

She grins. "Probably."

"Tell me if y'want company."

"I do. Want company." Her response is fast and thoughtless and straight from some scary place inside her she still tries to dodge when she's quick enough. But he's too fast for her as usual.

"Good." And then he's taking the steps two at a time, probably to make sure he shuts the door before she can change her mind.

_________________________

After that the walks become a habit.

They rarely say much, maybe some conversation about the supplies they'll need soon or how her garden's coming along or when he plans to go hunting again.

Still, she looks forward to it every night, and on the days when he's out hunting past dinner or gone on a run with Aaron or Rosita or Jesus, she misses it.

Misses him.

_________________________

She's toweling her hair dry when there's a knock on the door so soft she wouldn't have even heard it had she not been dreading it since pre-dawn.

"Carol?" Enid's timid voice barely carries through the wood.

She walks over and pulls the door open to find Enid standing there looking like something out of one of those princess books she used to read to Sophia. Part of her hair is pulled up in a careful twist, while the rest falls over her shoulders in a mass of soft waves. Her eyeshadow has flecks of gold, and she's wearing a royal blue dress that picks up the gems in the earrings Maggie must have loaned her.

"You look stunning."

"Oh god, thank you." Enid's face heats instantly. "I feel so fake. Maggie made me sit still for like an hour and a half. I think my foot's still asleep." She hesitates, clears her throat. "So no pressure, but Michonne said that you were at least thinking about the dance and maybe I could help with your makeup?"

Carol looks at the girl, watches as Enid fidgets with the satin that edges her sleeve.

She's only a little older than Sophia would be now, and only a little younger than Carol was when she and Katie McKinnon decided to to to the prom together because they'd both been dumped within the preceding month.

"It's fine if you don't want to," says Enid hastily, already backing toward the door.

"No, I'm going." The words feel tangible in her mouth, like she ate one too many marshmallows and they've got nowhere left to go. But she manages anyway. "I can't remember the last time I wore lipstick. Will you help me pick a good color?"

The burst of pure happiness on Enid's face instantly makes the night almost worth it.

_________________________

The night Carol went to prom with Katie, they spent two hours getting ready because they were so determined to make sure that Adam and Gerald deeply regretted their terrible life choices.

She remembers blood red lipstick and way too much blue eyeshadow, flatironing her hair for what felt like hours, popping Hershey kisses as they laughed and listened to The Stones, and almost falling down the stairs because she was determined to wear the stilettos she'd never figured out how to walk in.

At the dance, Ed Peletier -- who'd only spoken to her maybe twice in her life, and even then only to ask her for help with trig homework -- strolled over the second that "Crazy" started floating from the speakers.

(No matter how many times she thinks of this moment, the irony's never lost on her.)

"Would you like to dance?" He smelled like expensive cologne and possibly Scotch, not that she was highly familiar with the latter.

Her face hot, she twisted the pearl stud in her ear and said, "Sure, but just this one. I'm here with my friend."

"Just the one then," he replied, extending his hand just like she'd seen men do it in the movies.

And he'd been true to his word, surprising the hell out of her by raising her fingers to his lips and brushing a kiss over them as the last few bars of the song faded. "Have fun with your friend. Maybe you'd like to get a burger after school next week?"

"Carol, let's gooooo." Katie rushed up, flushed and impatient.

Carol barely had time to turn and nod at Ed before Katie pulled her away to the car.

Just like they'd planned on the phone weeks ago, they drove to the lake at the edge of town. They stripped off their stockings and hung their bare feet off the dock, flinging droplets of water that caught the moonlight as they arced through the cooling night air.

And they opened the bottle of gin Katie had stolen from her grandpa's liquor cabinet, passing it back and forth as they worked on the bag of sour cream and onion potato chips wedged between them.

She can still feel the burn of the alcohol stinging its way down her throat and warming her stomach.

Still taste the leftover salt from the chips as she licked the tips of her fingers.

Still see the glowing light circling the moon as it rose higher and higher in the sky.

Still hear the uncontrolled laughter bubbling up from inside her as she and Katie got more and more drunk and more and more silly.

It was the last time she was really free.

_________________________

"So do you think gold?" Enid holds up the tiny eyeshadow compact. "Or silver?" She brandishes one in each hand.

"I think-" Carol hesitates, glancing toward the dress laid out on the bed. "Maybe silver?"

Enid flashes a delighted smile. "I was hoping you'd pick silver. It's gonna be so perfect with that dress." She shoves the gold compact aside. "Close your eyes."

_________________________

She stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, fascinated and a little awed by the face that looks back at her.

Her lips are a rich shade of burgundy that almost perfectly matches her dress, and they shine because Enid insisted on just a touch of that roll-on lip gloss that tastes like cotton candy.

Her cheeks are a warm plum with barely a hint of sparkle from the bronzer Enid added at the last minute.

Her eyes -- carefully outlined with deep navy eyeliner and the shimmer of silver eyeshadow -- radiate a much deeper blue than usual.

It's been so many decades since she even tried to wear makeup, to put on fancy clothes, to look pretty.

She's aware that objectively, she's lovely. Stunning even.

But the only part of the face staring back at her from the mirror that feels as if it belongs to her is the quiet sadness that lingers in her eyes, comfortable and familiar.

Somewhere long ago and far away, tucked back in corners of her mind she hasn't visited in decades, she remembers what it was like to walk into a room and turn heads, to stop the action for a split second.

She can feel the music from downstairs vibrating the soles of her feet.

She doesn't want to go.

She wants to stay here, appreciate the picture for a minute, then wash her face and get in bed.

But she gets up, checks her eyeliner one last time, and walks to the door.

_________________________

She makes it down the stairs unnoticed and slips around the corner into the kitchen, surprised but grateful to find the room empty. Pouring herself a glass of cold water, she takes small sips as she steals a look into the crowded living room.

Rick and Michonne are in the corner, pretending to slow dance but it's more a conversation with occasional slight swaying. Michonne is breathtaking in an emerald green sheath that showcases her shoulders. Carol's never seen her in makeup either, and she's delighted by how happy Michonne looks -- cherry red lipstick, brilliant green eyeshadow that matches her dress, and her face intent on whatever Rick's saying to her.

Carl and Jesus are engaged in what appears to be a very serious arm wrestling match, although since Jesus looks as if he's already done at least three or four shots, she gives Carl even odds if not better.

Morgan's "dancing" with Judith, her bare feet on his shoes and her tiny hands in his. Carol's heart hurts watching them, because if there's anything she understands, it's the pain that will always lurk beneath the surface of the enchanted grin Morgan's currently wearing. Doesn't matter though. Judith's bouncing and giggling, the hem of her magenta dress swishing around her pudgy legs, and for now that's so much more than enough.

"Nah, don't move. I'll grab some more paper plates. Just gimme a sec-" Daryl's words drift off and blend into the lyrics of "Purple Rain" as his eyes land on her and he just . . . stops.

"Damn."

For the longest moment, he's both looking at her and doing everything but -- his eyes flitting from her face to her shoulder to the counter to her legs to the sink to her face to her hair and finally back to her eyes.

"You look-" He shakes his head a tiny bit, and a shy grin touches the edge of his lips. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." She swallows and takes a gulp of her water, suddenly warmer than she was a minute ago.

This gives her a chance to realize she's not the only one who spent some time getting ready for the festivities.

Daryl's wearing dark jeans without a hole in sight and a deep grey, long-sleeved henley. His hair's so freshly washed it's not even quite dry, and he's pushed it away from his face, which at this exact moment is flushed an adorable shade of hot pink.

"You look pretty nice yourself." She says the sentence kind of as if it's all one word.

"Finally took a shower, like you said," he replies, deadpan, and the laughter that bubbles up in her at the memory makes it easier to breathe.

The music changes, some Chicago ballad she remembers from what feels like five lifetimes ago.

"You wanna dance?"

The question is so unexpected that it takes her a second to realize her facial expression must look as if he suggested parachute-free skydiving. "You . . . dance?"

Daryl shrugs. "Ain't good at it, but Merle wouldn't leave me alone until I learned a few things. Always tryin' to get me a date." He shifts on his feet and stares at the floor. "'S'fine if you don't feel like it. I'll grab the plates and-"

"No, I'd love to."

He reaches for her hand (astonishing her again, his palm warm and a little sweaty where it touches hers) and leads her into the living room. Everyone's paired up. Rick and Michonne. Carl and Enid. Aaron and Eric. Father Gabriel's apparently trying to teach Judith how to lead and that's not going too smoothly. Her tiny peals of laughter drift through the air.

Daryl holds Carol's hand and slips an arm around her waist, pulling her a little closer, but not enough to make her uncomfortable. That's when she smells the distinctive scent of whiskey floating over his cinnamon toothpaste. "Are you drunk?" she asks, laughter in her voice.

"Tryin' to be, yeah," he answers with a sigh. "This is a fuckin' nightmare. Was just waitin' for you to come downstairs, but I didn't think-"

"That I'd show up at all?"

He shakes his head. "That you'd look like-" He swallows. "There's no way to be ready for that dress."

"You are drunk."

He pulls back a fraction to look at her, and his eyes are suddenly very serious. "Y'think I gotta be drunk to notice your dress?"

Goddammit.

"I didn't mean that." (She kind of did mean that, but apparently it was the wrong answer.)

"Good." And he surprises her again by letting the momentary flare of irritation pass and drawing her back toward him, this time closer than before. She forces herself not to tense, because even though it makes her strangely nervous, dancing with him like this feels so . . . nice. She lets her chin rest on his shoulder and moves to the music, surprised by how good at this he is, even though she probably shouldn't be if Merle was his teacher. A few yards away, Carl's not having quite as much luck, and she bites her lip to keep from grinning as Enid yelps, "Ow!" and dissolves into giggles again while Carl's face flushes.

The music stops for a second. There's the plastic click of CD cases colliding while Eric searches for his next choice and then she hears the first bars of "Crazy For You."

When Sophia was in preschool, Carol would turn on the '80s station as soon as Ed had been gone for at least half an hour and there was no chance he'd come bursting back through the door, red-faced and cursing about something he'd forgotten. She could see herself humming absently, dancing around the kitchen while she carefully measured out the ingredients for perfect slow-cooker meatballs (although she could never put in as much spice as she liked because Ed would start yelling about how she was trying to give him an ulcer). She had no idea why she loved it so much, because the song left her feeling empty, lost, like something inside her was endlessly wishing and reaching for the impossible. She stirred cracker crumbs into ground beef and blinked away tears as she realized she'd never get the chance to feel that way about anyone, or know what it felt like to have someone feel that way about her. Lots of songs got to her a little bit in one way or another, but this one was different for some reason. Usually by the time it was over, she'd find herself staring out the window or at some neutral point on the blue flowered wallpaper in front of her. And she never once forgot to wash and dry her hands -- making sure not a touch of grease or flour was left over -- before she set the radio back to the terrible country station Ed loved. Sometimes, in hopes that it might improve his mood, she turned it on before he even drove into the garage.

"You okay?"

Daryl's voice almost startles her and she glances up to see the expression of puzzled concern on his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, this song makes me-" But she doesn't even know the word she's looking for or have a clue what to add without deepening her own discomfort (and his too, she's sure).

"D'you wanna get out of here?" Daryl's voice is so low she can barely make out the words over Madonna's chorus. "Help me finish the Jack Daniels I stashed on the porch?"

"Yes please," she replies, and she should probably care about the edge of desperation that sharpens her words but she doesn't.

"Let's go." Daryl touches her elbow lightly to guide her toward the door, and a warm shiver spreads up her arm to the back of her neck, sparking in her hair.

_________________________

"So you were probably prom queen or some shit like that, right?" Daryl takes another impressively large swig from the bottle they're sharing and hands it back to her, clearing his throat a little as the liquor goes down.

They're leaning on the porch railing, staring out into the empty street. The only thing moving is the tiny outline of Rosita, pacing back and forth on the watch platform. It's a gorgeous night, the air cool enough to be refreshing without making her wish she had a sweater, and it's clear enough that she can see clusters of stars, the moon hanging like a shimmery sliver in the sky. The breeze feels soft and comforting as it lifts her hair, and she listens to the eerie, faraway hoot of an owl looking for dinner mixed with the muffled laughter drifting through the living room windows. She kinda wishes she'd rejected the pumps though. It's only been a couple hours and she's already losing circulation in her toes. If there's one positive side effect of having walkers everywhere, it's that comfortable shoes are encouraged.

She smirks at Daryl before taking her own oversized gulp. The liquid fizzes in her mouth and burns in her throat. It's not even good and she doesn't enjoy the taste at all, but she does enjoy the fierce spread of warmth that radiates off her skin the instant the alcohol hits her stomach (thanks to all of her pre-dance anxiety, she's eaten nothing today except half a chocolate bar Tara stole for her after their latest run, so the alcohol has an instant effect).

"Actually, smartass, I went to prom with my best friend Katie, because Adam Jakowski dumped me three weeks before."

"The fuck was wrong with that dickhead?" Daryl blurts out, kicking the tip of his boot against the railing.

She takes another long swallow and hands the bottle back to him, her fingers brushing his as they make the swap. "Doesn't matter. He was an asshole anyway. I think he wound up a hedge fund manager." She smooths the satin of her dress between her fingers. "Katie and I got ridiculously drunk and ate a lot of sour cream and onion potato chips." She laughs, the sound echoing down the quiet street. "One of the best nights of my life, honestly." She stares at one perfectly polished fingernail and her words are much quieter when she adds, "Which probably sounds pathetic."

"It doesn't."

Each word lands with vehemence she hadn't expected, and his shoulders tense before he raises the bottle to his lips again.

"Besides, I can top it," he mutters.

"Yeah?"

He hands the whiskey back to her and chokes out half a laugh, shaking his head. "There was this girl," he explains, scrubbing his hands over his face. "Melinda Tomlinson." His thumb rubs circles on the smooth wood of the railing. "I knew I could never get her to go to prom with me or any shit like that, but I just wanted to buy her a Coke or a sundae after school." He shrugs, locking his elbows and pushing against the railing to stand up straighter. "So one day I bothered to put on my only shirt that didn't have holes in it and I stole a pair of the jeans Merle saved for when he really wanted to score. And I asked her if she'd go to the ice cream shop with me after school."

The warmth of the alcohol seems far away now; she can tell where this story is going and it makes her cold inside. She squeezes her hands into fists and waits.

"She told me she didn't go out with guys who fix bikes for a living and have brothers who fuck hookers." He adds, "Her words," as if he suddenly needs to apologize for profanity. After one long, slow breath, he continues. "So on prom night I stole Merle's truck, drove three hours to this lake in the middle of nowhere, went swimming in the dark until I bumped up against some fuckin' thing I wasn't taking any chances on, and then drank so much that I woke up in the bed of the truck the next afternoon, half naked and sunburned as hell."

The words are flat, emotionless, like he's telling her that they'll need to find salt on the next run or reminding her that she should bring in the seedlings because it's probably gonna rain overnight. But his voice cracks in a few giveaway places and so does her heart.

Without even thinking, she takes the three steps required to close the distance between them and presses her arm right up against his, hard, taking three gulps of whiskey without even pausing to breathe.

He reaches for the bottle, grinning. "You might wanna slow down there. When was the last time you ate anything?"

"Shut up, I'm perfectly-" But at that precise second the whole world starts to shift a little. The trees aren't standing up like they're supposed to and the fence tilts at the wrong angle to the ground. Rosita looks as if she's walking up the platform instead of across it.

Daryl's arms have her instantly, and she's leaning back against his chest wondering why everything is spinning. "You were sayin'?" he asks, but his sarcasm is all affection and no edge. "Let's give this chair over here a try."

In one effortless movement, he swings her up and gently deposits her in the huge Adirondack chair at the far corner of the porch. Before she can open her mouth to protest, he's pulling her shoes off and sitting them neatly on the floor. "Maybe I should go make us some coffee," he offers, glancing toward the living room, undecided. Now that she's sitting down he's only moving in her vision a tiny bit.

"Stay with me for a few more minutes first?" She knows she's drunk because clearly her filter is set to all the way off, but in this exact moment it feels great.

Powerful.

Free.

"I'm not ready for tonight to be over yet."

"Me neither, surprisingly enough," he mutters, and the words are so quiet that if she knew him any less well she'd be 98% sure she imagined them. But he strides over and settles into the chair next to her, his body warm and comforting where it presses against her skin. She notices that he's not holding himself away from her, that he's letting his muscles relax.

They stay like that for a few minutes, and Carol stretches her newly-freed feet, feeling the numbness turn to pins and needles while she tries to guess which song is playing just from the beat. Might be "Billie Jean." They continue to pass the bottle back and forth, but she makes sure to keep her sips a whole lot smaller now.

The party sounds as if it might be winding down inside when she turns her face towards Daryl and says, "Well maybe-" at the exact moment he turns his towards her and says, "We should probably-"

And they both stop.

His eyes are so blue and confused even in the half-darkness of the porch, and she was sure that whole thing where it actually gets harder to breathe was probably only in crappy romance novels but apparently she was wrong because she feels like she doesn't have enough air and her face is very, very hot all of the sudden.

She can't help dropping her eyes to look at his lips; it's nothing more than a tenth of a second but she knows he didn't miss it.

Then she realizes he's doing the same thing, and her heart is slamming so fast she'd probably be scared if she didn't have at least five other things worrying her more.

The music from inside is definitely some sort of ballad now. She's guessing "Almost Paradise."

She lets her eyes meet Daryl's again, and the expression she finds there undoes what little was left of her resolve.

Years later, when her mind wanders while she's making soup or waiting for him to come to bed or this close to falling asleep with her fingers wrapped around his arm, she'll wonder what it was. The whiskey? The music? The chair? The stars?

But she licks the sting of Jack Daniels off her own lips and whispers, holding his gaze so he'll know for certain that she's not joking this time, "On the off chance you're wondering if I'd like you to kiss me, I would." She swallows. "Like you to kiss me."

His eyes widen, and for an agonizing, never-ending moment that hangs there in the quiet darkness like every terrible decision she's ever made, he doesn't move or speak.

And then he shifts just enough to free his arms, takes her face in both of his hands, looks at her for another long beat (but this time with enough of a smile in his eyes that at least she starts to breathe again), and touches her lips with his.

His kiss is soft at first, so gentle and tentative that it's barely there. He's tilting her face ever so slightly each time his lips touch hers, moving slowly, like he's making a map of her mouth.

But it's not even close to enough for her.

"Daryl," she whispers.

"Hmm?" He sucks on her lower lip, barely-there pressure, and her whole body is humming.

"More," she says, pushing his hands away and somehow managing (in a maneuver much more graceful than she deserves after that much whiskey) to toss one of her thighs over his so she's facing him, kneeling over his lap while she looks at his flushed face and forces herself not to think.

Instead, she picks up right where they left off, only this time she's the one making the rules. Her tongue smooths over his lower lip and she can feel the vibration that rises from his chest. Her heart's still slamming, but now it's in the best way, and she smiles when he opens his mouth to her kiss and lets her slide her tongue over his. She breathes in the whiskey and the peanut butter M&Ms he'd been eating before they came out here and honestly they shouldn't taste good together at all but it's perfect and she can't get enough. His hands glide up the back of her dress, fingers trailing over her shoulder blades and the bones of her spine until he's stroking the sides of her neck with his thumbs.

She can't remember the last time anything felt this good.

It isn't until the back of his index finger is absently brushing the top of her breast where it barely shows in her shiny dress that he shakes his head and takes her hands, pulling back.

"Hey, we gotta stop." He's gentle, but his grip on her hands is very firm.

"You don't wanna-"

He shakes his head, and the smile he breaks into in the next half second makes her feel melty all over again. "I do wanna." He takes one of her hands and holds it between his, kissing her knuckles, his chapped lips a little rough yet still soft. "But not when we've pretty much finished a bottle of whiskey between us."

"Being sober's not gonna change my mind," she mutters, lifting herself off him in a move a great deal less graceful than the one that landed her there and squishing herself into the corner of the chair. They’re both tense now, breathing hard.

"It's not gonna change my mind either." She feels his hand on her chin, tilting her head in his direction. "Hey. Look at me, please?"

She does, finally, letting her eyes drift up to meet his. The expression in his eyes is softer and more open than she's ever seen it (save maybe for a split second when she found him after Terminus), and any irritation she was trying to feel evaporates. "I just wanna remember everything," he says, and he rubs his thumb over her cheekbone before dropping his hand. "That's all."

Her eyes sting and her throat tightens, but she doesn't let herself look away when she reaches down to slip her hand into his. "Well, this isn't even close to how I thought tonight would go," she blurts out.

"Me neither." His thumb strokes the side of her wrist. "Figured you wouldn't show up and I'd probably get shit-faced and pass out in Aaron and Eric's garage." He leans his head back against the chair's dark wood and lets out a long breath. "Gotta admit, this is a hell of a lot nicer."

She rolls her eyes but regrets it immediately, closing them to shut out the swirl. "Wow, that was so much whiskey."

"Shit, I shoulda stopped you." She feels the brush of his fingers pushing her hair off her forehead.

"I wasn't exactly shoving the bottle away."

"Want me to sneak in there and bring you some Advil?"

"I should just go to bed. Shit, I have to make it across the whole living room to go upstairs." She winces, squinting at the light that glows through the window and outlines the bodies of everyone who's still dancing.

"Close your eyes. I'll wake you up and make sure you get upstairs when they're all gone."

"Daryl, that's ridic-"

"You think there's anyplace on earth I'd rather be right now?" He pauses, and she can feel his shoulder lift by her cheek as he breathes. "'Cause there ain't."

And it hits her.

She was wrong, dancing in the kitchen making meatballs, a decade and at least four lifetimes ago.

To him, she's the most important thing.

She always has been.

The realization makes her feel even more lightheaded, and she's not ready to deal with any of the mutinous feelings that are ganging up on her from every hidden passageway in her mind she thought she'd sealed off and bolted shut.

So she rearranges herself a little, to make it easier for her to rest her head on his shoulder.

"You good?" he asks, his fingers warm where they land on her forearm.

"Very," she whispers, letting her eyes slip shut again. She listens to the cellos that sound surprisingly far away and realizes that -- in spite of the epic headache she's guaranteed to have -- for the first time in years, she's not dreading the morning.

She's looking forward to it.

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

#caryl #fanfic #apologies in advance for whatever the hell this is #but i love them omg #carol peletier

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fortunesrevolver · 7 years

Text

Okay so, I found this old Fluri fanfic in my GoogleDrive. It’s unfinished and unedited in any form, but I can’t actually remember the ending I was going for or how I intended to complete this story. Apparently it was started almost a year ago, so at this point I doubt the full idea will come back to me. I figured I might as well just throw this half-finished dork-fest out for everyone to enjoy.

@suguelya - I am tagging you because I tag you in all my Fluri silliness and idk but feel free to laugh and judge this.

Excerpt:

“Then let’s begin. Mister Lowell, you--”

“Formalities? Really? You sound like Cumore.”

“Professor Cumore.”

“Yeah, yeah. Professor Hearts and Tightpants. Whatever. If you keep up that mister stuff I won’t--”

“Yuri.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you please tell me what sort of havoc you brought upon the school today?”

“Just today?”

“Yuri.”

As the student council president there were many things Flynn Scifo had seen in his lifetime that should have been considered surprising. Yet, having known one Yuri Lowell all his life, there was next to nothing the student body could do that would manage to throw him off guard. It gave him a fortunate advantage over troublemakers who liked to see just how far they could stretch the school rules but, unfortunately, Yuri himself sat upon the throne of deviants. It was a position that, according to Yuri, he had never asked for, but he certainly didn’t deny either.

It was not at all unusual to find Yuri sitting in the detention room after hours with his feet up on the desk, precariously balanced on two legs of his chair as he regarded whatever teacher happened to be in charge of watching him with a look of indifference. Today, however, there had been a staff-wide meeting, which meant no teachers had been available to watch over the sparse detention room. Normally, this would mean the punishment would be rescheduled for the following day, but with a flight-risk like Yuri, who was more likely to skip class completely or find escape through whatever window happen to be nearest.

Not wanting to deal with the tedious task of chasing the academy’s most frequent offender down, the student council had been charged with the task of watching him. Flynn, being the student supervisor of the disciplinary committee on top of his student council duties, had volunteered the moment he hear Yuri’s name with a heavy sigh and a shuffle of papers as he tried to imagine just what it was Yuri had done this time.

He just prayed it had nothing to do with the screams and the horrendous boom he had heard over the lunch period.

“So…” Yuri’s voice pulled Flynn abruptly from his thoughts -- a dangerous thing to get lost in when one was watching Yuri Lowell -- and his gaze settled back on Yuri just as he was offered a suspiciously happy grin. “You got stuck with the low-man’s job today, huh? From president to prison-guard, that has to suck.”

“The job needed to be done, and I’m the only one who doesn’t fall for your tricks.”

“That’s not true.” Yuri shrugged. “Judy usually seems to catch on.”

“Judith is busy covering for me with Estellise, as I was unable to take care of my own tasks in lieu of coming here.”

“You? Asking for help? I’m surprised you don’t have a pile of work with you now.”

“I can’t afford to be distracted.”

“Aw, come on, Flynn, have a little faith.” Yuri’s chair hit the floor with a loud thunk as he swung his feet down to lean his arms against the surface of his desk. “You don’t think I’d just run off on you, do you?”

“Yes, in fact,” Flynn scoffed and crossed his arms. “I do. You’ve tried many times.”

“Aw,” Yuri grinned and dropped his chin lazily into his open palm. “And here I thought you’d stopped watching me all the time. It’s good to know you haven’t started ignoring me.”

Flynn scoffed in return and lifted a folder off his desk to give it a small wave of the hand. “Would you like to tell me why you’re here?”

“Ouch, cop tactics? Come on, Flynn. Don’t tell me you haven’t studied up before taking the test.”

“I’d rather hear it from you.”

“Oh? Why’s that? Finally realise the way the teacher’s write it isn’t as fun?”

“I know you’re too proud of the chaos you create to withhold any details they might have missed.”

“Trust me, they don’t know the half of it.” Yuri’s smirk turned into a smug grin and Flynn felt something cold run down his spine. Yuri had been all too thrilled about being in his senior year -- he’d even attended classes on an almost regular basis -- and Flynn had a sick feeling that, somehow, Yuri’s oddly clean personal record for the year had everything to do with the madness that had occurred today.

“Wonderful,” Flynn murmured and reached for his pencil. They were both going to be here for a while, and the unsettling thought that this might actually end with Yuri being escorted off the premises lingered briefly in the back of his mind. For all the times he had managed to talk someone out of expelling Yuri, if he had truly managed to set the metaphorical -- or heavens help them -- real fire, his hands would be tied. “Then let’s begin. Mister Lowell, you--”

“Formalities? Really? You sound like Cumore.”

“Professor Cumore.”

“Yeah, yeah. Professor Hearts and Tightpants. Whatever. If you keep up that mister stuff I won’t--”

“Yuri.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you please tell me what sort of havoc you brought upon the school today?”

“Just today?”

“Yuri.”

“Alright, alright, geez…” Yuri shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “No need to glare like that. You’re going to get wrinkles.”

It was more than obvious that whatever humour Yuri was seeing in this situation was not seen by Flynn, and if it was, he was doing a spectacular job of hiding it. When he didn’t get the response he had hoped for, Yuri’s smirk faded into a dramatic, drawn out sigh. Of course Flynn wouldn’t take the bait, he knew Yuri’s line all too well. It was both endearing and frustrating at the same time. After all, life wouldn’t be nearly as fun if he got away with everything.

“So it all started this morning with the bugs--”

“...bugs.”

“Bugs.” Yuri nodded and pointed to the floor, wiggling his fingers. “You see, a friend of mine knows where to get crickets cheap, so he hooked me up with a few big bags of them, and we let ‘em loose out in the hallways just before the break between classes so everyone would get to enjoy them.”

“Enjoy them.” Flynn’s tone was flat as he repeated the words, his expression carefully void of emotion as he laced his fingers together. “I see. Continue.”

Raising an eyebrow, Yuri tapped the toes of his boots against the floor as he tried to remember the order in which everything had happened. He’d stopped keeping track after the first few, but somehow, he doubted Flynn would expect that as an answer.

“Then there were the smoke bombs in the courtyard… We filled a few teacher’s desk drawers with glitter and put them in upside down--”

“Upside do--How...? No, nevermind.” Flynn’s expression twisted briefly in disbelief, but he quickly waved hand through the air for Yuri to continue. If he knew his friend right, it this was barely the tip of the iceberg.

“Then we set loose Rappig 1, Rappig 2, and Rappig 4…”

“Where was--” Flynn stopped and felt something in his stomach plummet as he rubbed his forehead. “Was there a third rappig?”

“Nope.”

“Are people still looking?”

“I sure hope so.”

Flynn inhaled and held his breath. He would not laugh; Yuri didn’t need the satisfaction -- or encouragement. He was supposed to be the adult in this situation. Since apparently the teachers could not. “...anything else?”

“Well…” Yuri trailed off, “A mutual friend of ours got a little excited in the chem lab--”

“Ms. Mordio, then.”

“I ain’t naming names,” Yuri shrugged, but the sparkle in his eyes was more than enough to tell Flynn he was correct. “But they got a little too excited with the original prank to just make some coloured smoke that looked dangerous, and that’s what the bang at lunch was.”

“Wonderful.”

“And after all that, we released the bees.”

“Bees!?”

“Bees.” Yuri nodded. “I think around a hundred of them.”

“Yuri!” Flynn’s voice rose, scandalised. “You can’t release bees in a school! People could be allergic--”

“We didn’t release them inside, geez. That’d be cruel to the bees.”

“I’m not sure it’s the bees we should be concerned with in this situation.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a good thing I was kidding about that last one then, huh?”

“You…” Flynn’s shoulders fell as he buried his face in his hands and sighed. If he were honest with himself, he wouldn’t have put it past Yuri to actually release a hundred bees in the front yard, but he truly did like to believe that his dearest friend had some level of control. No matter how low it might be. Yet it hadn’t changed the fact that he’d fallen for it. “...was there anything else?”

“We filled the principal’s office with water.”

“You--excuse me?”

“You know, glasses of water. We filled up a ton of little cups and covered his floor.”

“That…” Flynn trailed off, a tiny smile threatening to overtake the stern expression he was trying to hold. “That one may have been clever, but the rest was completely unnecessary.”

“What? You think I was just going to leave the school quietly?”

“I could have hoped.”

“That’s not my style.”

“It never was.”

“Never will be.”

“Unfortunately, no.” Flynn sighed and shook his head, the subtle smile once gracing his features quickly disappearing. “However, you realise I can’t simply let you slip out of trouble this time.” Flynn’s expression sharpened as he crossed his arms and Yuri knew his fun had come to an abrupt end. “You’ll be lucky if they allow you to walk, Yuri. What was the point of all this?”

“To have a little fun.” Yuri answered simply and shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone is so damn tense and uptight all the time around here. I thought I’d bring them a few laughs before I’d go.”

“I can only be grateful they were not as destructive as some of the stunts I’ve seen pulled here.”

“Well, you know, can’t give you too much of a headache. I’d never get laid if you were stuck here all the time cleaning up for the lazy teachers.”

Flynn choked, tripping over the desk he’d just moved past in order to bring himself closer to Yuri. His cheeks flared, taking on a dark hue in a spectacular impersonation of an apple. It took him nearly a full minute to compose himself before he spoke in a tone he’d hoped would come out firm and reprimanding, but it fell shamefully short. “Yuri!”

“Flynn~”

#Fluri #Yuri x Flynn #Nao Writes Stuff #I don't even know what this is but I'm giggling #What even did I write???

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