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terrm9 · 3 years

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after all that i’ve done (Tatum x Lina)

This is officially part 2 of you give it to me anyway; however it’s perfectly readable as a one-shot, too.

WC: 4.4k, Rating: M (mature)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of army injury, alcohol & drug consumption, sex - only talking about these things, nothing graphic.

Author’s note: As expected, this doesn’t meet my writing goals at all. I got tired of looking at it, though, so here it is. Thank you so so much for reading and leaving a feedback, it means the whole world to me <3

Five weeks.

Five weeks of separation, five weeks filled with texts and phone calls and face-times and there was also a letter waiting on Lina’s bed one day – for old times‘ sake, Tatum joked.

And Lina has never been a patient woman, no. She hated those five weeks, in all her honesty.

(We managed five years, I can handle five weeks, she has been telling herself on repeat.)

The five weeks have passes. Lina’s year at Vancross was over. Election has been won.

She is home, at last. Home in Rutherland. Home in Mendozas‘ living room, Tatum’s arm wrapped around her shoulders and her own around his waist.

Leaning into his side and blushing under the attention she is getting from Mr. Mendoza, she is home.

(At last.)

„Lina!“ Tatum’s dad beams at her, a smile so wide she is sure his cheeks hurt. Where is all that Tatum’s stoicism coming from, she wonders (and then she remembers, those damn five years. Tatum used to be a perfect picture of his father – huge smiles and carefree laughters; there is nothing inherited in who he is now. He has become who he is in those five years.)

„It’s so amazing to see you again,“ Mr. Mendoza – Jerome, he insists – breaks her out of own mind. „Tatum couldn’t stop talking about you these past few weeks. It’s been Lina here and Lina there and ‚I wonder what Lina is doing‘ and-„

„Okay, dad, I am sure she gets it,“ Tatum interrupts, his voice carrying tracks of annoyance, but Lina knows it’s not really there. She has never seen a relationship more beautiful, more pure than the one between Tatum and his dad.

When Lina looks up at him, expression amused and an eyebrow raised, Tatum simply shrugs – he will not deny that he missed her. He will not support his dad’s teasing, either.

„Thank you, Jerome,“ she smiles back, probably just as widely. „I am more than happy to be back home.“

Tatum picked her up at the airport and Lina didn’t even consider going to her mother’s house. Without any conversation, they both knew she would be staying at Mendozas for some time.

She would be staying home.

„Well, I will leave you kids to it,“ Jerome winks at them and this time, Tatum does look slightly uncomfortable. „I promised Victoria I would help Josh with the nursery for the little one. Don’t wait for me with the dinner!“ He winks again and the suggestion behind his words is more than clear. Tatum’s hand twitches at Lina’s shoulder as he mutters under his breath.

„For the love of God, just go, dad.“

Lina is trying very hard not to think about what is happening. About how she is taking the stairs to walk into Tatum’s room – the room she hasn’t been to in six years. About how Tatum’s shoulders are tense under his tight black t-shirt, even though he is smiling softly at her as he opens the door.

About how this is all so well-known to her and yet so fucking different.

About the conversation they are inevitably having today. She is trying very, very hard not to think about that.

It takes several seconds for Lina to take the room in – to compare her memories to the present moment, to remember if the walls have always been this shade of gray and that there was definitely not a king-sized bed in teenage Tatum’s room.

"Ah," she can't help but grin as she spots the blank space above the bed.

"Where has the Emma Watson poster gone?"

Even though Tatum's face remains stoic, Lina catches a glimpse of amusement in his eyes.

"Dad turned this room into the one for visitors while I was gone," he replies shrugging. "I didn't think it would be, uh, appropriate to have the poster here."

Nodding, Lina takes the room further in and her breath hitches in her throat as she notices things that haven't changed, haven't been removed. The photo of the two of them from Tatum's eighteenth birthday party on a bedside table. The Valentine's Day card Lina made for him in the kindergarten pinned above his writing desk. The elegant black box sitting on the desk and she knows it's filled with the cinema tickets and concert tickets and the little notes Lina left from him in the books he has borrowed her. The ugliest mug ever made proudly displayed on a windowsill - Lina promised to bring him the ugliest souvenire from her trip to Prague and she came back with the mug. Photo of Lina in a long summer dress taken only a few days before Tatum left Rutherland, on a dresser (although it looks slightly rumpled and with a swell of her heart Lina wonders if maybe he had had this photo in his wallet while he was away, close to him at all times?)

"And these," she gestures around the room, "are not inappropriate?"

"Never," he doesn't miss a beat.

In two long strides, he closes the gap between them and taker her face into his hands, eyes full of that tenderness that scares her, full of affection and also, she notices, full of need.

„Lina,“ he whispers as he scans her face and Lina is not sure what he is trying to say – his eyes, God, those eyes, so beautiful, so breathtaking, screaming many things at once and Lina can only guess.

I missed you. I am so happy you are finally with me. I am, at last, at peace. I love you with my whole being and then some more.

All the things she feels within herself. All the things she is, just like him, not capable of saying. Neither of them has ever been a master of words. Of course, it has always been easy to talk to Tatum about others, about life, about nothing in particular.

But to talk to Tatum about Tatum?

(To talk to Lina about Lina?)

That’s... hard. Difficult. So easy to fuck up.

So she kisses him. Pulls him closer and covers his mouth with hers, pouring all that is unspoken into that kiss, hoping it could be enough.

(It is. It always is.)

Five weeks is a long time for everyone. It’s been fucking long time for Lina and Tatum.

The kisses are hungry, desperate, full of need and catching up, making up for the lost time – it would be so easy, so damn easy to just take his clothes off, to let him take hers off and then just have him take her.

So damn easy.

Lina knows he would do it, his higher principles be damned because the heat radiating from his body, the low rumble coming from the back of his throat, his hands caressing her torso – all a proof that he is just a man, that he wants her.

Tatum would do everything – anything – for Lina. He once told her he would die for her – and what a cliché, used by many, sung by rockstars and written down by poets, I would die for you, a confession or perhaps a promise, whispered freely by millions but meant scarcely by dozens.

Lina knows he means it. He would give up all his breaths for her.

(As she would for him. She decided to live for him, after all, and maybe that’s even more severe.)

And it’s so tempting she almost takes it, takes him-

It's the first time with you. (Spoken five weeks ago and still echoing in her head, those gentle words of his, for fuck’s sake)

- she can’t.

God, how she wants to forget what has been and what will be and just let them enjoy the moment of all that is physical and beautiful and easy - nothing that is their reality, has been for years, hard and ugly.

“We need to talk,” she whispers and she hates how her voice trembles already, trembles with all those wrong, dreadful emotions.

A long exhale leaves Tatum and he closes his eyes before nodding – and if he was tense before, he is statue-like now, the only movement are his hands, hugging Lina more tightly.

“Yes,” he says quietly and leads her to his bed, a habit older than Lina can remember – serious talks need to be taken to bed, they used to joke. Sitting next to each other, backs leaned against the wall behind them (knee to knee, shoulder to shoulder), Lina looks into his eyes briefly and murmurs: “Could you go first, please?”

There is no need to particularize what is this talk going to be about – two people that shared everything, two people who have been through most of that everything together, being separated for five years, well, that’s a lot of catching up to do.

And while they have gotten to the talks about Lina’s school and Tatum’s time in army already, while she already knows about the injury that made him leave and he already knows about all the fights she has had with her mother and how it all led to her year at Vancross, they have successfully avoided talking about the people they met in those years apart, until now.

There has been no talk about the relationships and as curious as Lina has been, she never dared to ask about Tatum’s sex life. He is her best friend, though. First and foremost, he is her best friend and she knows about the first girl he kissed and the first girl he has bought flowers for and the first one he invited for a date.

“It was not long after I joined army that I met Cara,” Tatum speaks, taking Lina’s hand into his own, fingers intertwined. “She was a cousin of a fellow soldier and lived in a town nearest to our base. She came to visit him fairly often and she was impossible not to notice,” he chuckles quietly. “So loud and cheery and full of joy. Everyone was excited to see her after some time. She brought life to the people that mostly talked about death. She never hesitated to show me that she likes me. And you know, at army, dating is anything but easy – but Cara was understanding. So we started dating after five months.”

His voice is soft when he tells her all of it (so freely, so naturally, and Lina wishes her story – her stories – could be that easy to tell, too), as is his smile. No matter what has gone down between Tatum and Cara, there is no grudge he is holding, not a sign of hatred. And maybe Lina should feel jealous, maybe there should be a pang of something inside her ribs, something uncomfortable. There’s nothing.

If anything, she is grateful that Tatum had someone he could rely on for all those years. Grateful that Cara had been there to look after him at times Lina couldn’t.

„She was always so,“ he hums for a moment. „So happy. It didn’t take long for me to understand that the happy face, the loud laughter, that those things were her cover up for something terrible, something that was making her miserable. But she never wanted to talk about it and so I didn’t ask. As she didn’t ask in return.“

Tatum’s head bumps into the wall softly, too and his gaze is on a ceiling when he speaks again.

„She was a good girl. And the relationship was... nice. Easy. We made sure it would stay easy. And in that easiness, it lacked depth. I have never gotten to know her better and she has never gotten to know me.“

A long silence follows and Lina wonders if she should ask more, if she should interrupt his thread of thoughts. Before she can say anything, Tatum speaks again and this time, his voice is filled with regret.

„She had your hair.“

She reminded me of you, is what he is not saying.

„How long did the relationship last?“ Lina asks when the silence gets too thick, too uncomfortable.

„Three years and something.“

„You broke up when you had to leave army?“ she prompts softly, curiosity getting the best of her.

Tatum shakes his head before looking down at Lina and responding.

„No, we ended it before the injury happened. She found the photo of you in my wallet one day, after the discussion about my driving license – she needed to see the thing herself and as she opened the wallet, the first thing she saw was, well... you. She asked me ‚So this is the girl you are trying to forget?‘. After my initial surprise, I only said that you are my best friend.“

Breaking the eye contact, he looks ahead before finishing the story.

„‘The best friend you are in love with?‘, she asked again and it was the first time someone said that aloud. I couldn’t lie to her, not when she asked so directly. She said she understood and you know what Lina? I think she really did. I never found out who was she trying to forget, but she did understand me.“

„And after Cara?“ Lina asks, even though she is afraid she knows her answer.

„After Cara, there was nobody.“

„Are you-,“ she takes a deep breath to calm down her rapidly beating heart. „Do you really mean that you only slept with Cara? Ever?“

Tatum laughs at that, squeezing Lina’s hand. „Life in army – or healing after the injury you have gotten there – do not exactly give you opportunities to get laid, galyetas.“

„Oh,“ is all Lina manages to breathe out. „Oh.“

Oh, shit. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

This is her worst nightmare. This is worse than anything she feared.

Lina feels Tatum’s gaze on her, an unspoken ‚It’s your turn‘ hanging between them but she cannot, she cannot.

She feels like throwing up and crying at the same time and she cannot do this, she must run and run and run until she cannot catch her breath and never return because Tatum, her Tatum, deserves everything and she can give him nothing.

Not daring to look at Tatum, Lina tries to take a deep breath – to take any breath (and it feels like she has done the running already, she ran away and yet here she is, next to the man she loves, next to the man she is going to destroy.)

"You know you don't have to tell me anything, Lina," Tatum whispers, his knuckles caressing Lina's colarbone softly - a touch featherlight, almost too tender to bear.

And she needs to take another deep breath, the fire inside her blazing sedulously (painfully. It hurts to burn for Tatum, it pains as much as it pleases).

It all feels too much – his touch, his presence too good, too terrific; it feels like a dream.

(One she will soon turn into a nightmare)

„No, I do,“ she chokes out at last and finally looks into his eyes, forcing her memory to capture them fully – the chocolate brown of his irises with the specks of deep green in them, the dilated pupils and that damn warmth seeping from them, all those emotions. His eyes are smiling at her, eyes loving and caring and once she tells him everything, all of that love and care and smile will be gone and she begs her memory to remember Tatum’s eyes.

She begs her memory to forget everything but Tatum’s eyes (beautiful and breathtaking)

„I missed you,“ she begins. „I missed you like hell, Tatum, From the moment you were gone, it hurt. And I needed to find some kind of distraction, something to fill my mind with. The letters were not enough sometimes.“

Her voice is so apologetic, cracking after every other word and she hates it, hates how it sounds, hates how it is certainly telling Tatum where this is going, already.

“It was…” she stops and shrugs, trying so desperately to find the right words - which is ironic, really, as there are hardly any right words for this. “Manageable, that first year. I got drunk or high - sometimes both - went home, reread your latest letter and cried myself to sleep.”

Determined to look straight ahead of herself, Lina doesn’t see Tatum’s intense gaze on her. She feels it, however. (She always feels him, no matter her senses.)

She also hears his faint scoff.

Manageable has probably not been the most right choice of a word, then.

Then again, she has never done this before. Has never spoken about those years without Tatum to anyone.

Years of loneliness she decided to fill.

(Needed to fill, so desperately.)

Years of self-hatred that still lingers.

„The letters stopped coming, then,“ she whispers and even though she knows now why, she knows about her mother contacting Tatum only to ask him to stop sending them because it’s ‚too hurtful‘ for Lina; even though she knows all of it, she cannot keep the hurt from her voice.

„It was maybe three or four months after the last letter that it began to dawn on me, that another one is not coming. I was at this party and the first time, it was not planned, not intentional. It just... happened. I was getting drunk and ready to go home to reread the letter when it hit me, you know?“ she gulps and blinks several times to keep the tears from falling. „It hit me that I do not have anything to reread. And the guy was there, buying me drinks the whole night and he told me about his hotel room. So I went.“

Now, she needs to squeeze her eyes shut and the tears do fall and she hates them, hates herself, hates the past. But the dam has been broken and words are flowing out of her and she needs to tell Tatum everything, even if it is the last thing she will ever tell him.

„I do not remember his name and I do not remember what he looked like. I only remember that I hated every second of the sex, but the feeling of hating something else than the emptiness in me was strong enough for me to keep doing this. The second time, I planned it. And the third and every single one after that. I do not know who those people were, Tatum,“ she whispers and it scares her how still Tatum is, his hand still in hers but unmoving. There’s no reassuring squeezing.

(It’s what she deserves.)

„I never asked about their names and I never gave away mine. It happened every other week – I went to the city, got drunk, got fucked, went home. One time, paparazzi caught me kissing a woman in a bar and of course, the next day the picture was all over the magazines. My mother took a flight back home, then and I thought that maybe she would ask me what was going on, that maybe she would care. She tossed a bag my way, filled with wigs and contact lenses and told me that if I want to ruin my life, I need to make sure it doesn’t ruin her career, too. Then she left.“

Annie – Lina’s only female friend before Dionne – always used to say that what Lina is doing is a perfect example of post-breakup behavior. It never made sense to Lina. There was never a relationship. There was no breakup. She was just lonely and wanted some company.

It makes sense to her, now. She knows now that she loves Tatum in a way that is far from friendly and she knows now that she felt that way all those years ago, too. Back then, she would never admit that.

But Lina knows now. Her best friend, the closest person she has ever had, the person she’s been in love with left and Christ, that hurt more than a breakup.

„I do not know how many men I slept with, how many women. I never counted. The only thing I know that I never enjoyed the sex, not once,“ Lina scoffs and then muses, more to herself than Tatum. „Sometimes I wonder if I am even capable of that. Enjoying sex. Not that it matters,“ she adds in a rushed voice, because truly, her selfish wonder about her selfish sex life is not something that matters at the moment.

„I hate that it was that way, Tatum, I hate everything about those years you were gone. Most of all, I hate myself. But I cannot take that back. Those things are part of me now, no matter how hideous that part is.“

Silence. Long, terrible silence.

„What was the last time?“ Tatum asks suddenly and his voice is hollow, emotionless, so awfully neutral.

„Three weeks before Vancross? Maybe a month?“

This time when Tatum speaks, the emotions are clear in his voice – surprise, most of them all.

„And nobody after that? Nobody at Vancross?“

„Of course not!“ Lina exclaims, more loudly than intended – she still doesn’t look at him, though. „I was... There was no need-„ she bites her lower lip, trying to find the right words. She decides on the truth, in the end. „You were there with me. I was not lonely anymore. Not empty.“

There is a long silence, thick and suffocating and Lina feels like choking, drowning, this is the end, she thinks. She cannot meet Tatum's eyes, the fear of what she might find in them too tremendous - hate, disgust or perhaps resentment?

(All the things she would find in her own eyes, did she look in the mirror now)

And she deserves that look - the look that will crush her and destroy everything that is (was) between them; she deserves so much worse, she knows, but it doesn't make it any easier to open her damn eyes and look at him.

Taking a deep breath through her nose, Lina braces herself to face the reality, squeezing her eyes shut even more tightly, as if the counter movement of the one that is her goal could miraculously encourage her to do it and-

"I am sorry I was not there," she hears Tatum's whisper, the sound full of pain and regret and her eyes snap open without any forcible impulse sent by her brain.

What the fuck is the first reaction she manages to get out of herself.

„I should’ve fought harder for us,“ he adds and tugs her hand, forcing her to – fucking finally – look at him. „I should have been there, one way or another.“

„For fuck‘s sake, Tatum,“ Lina snaps and stands up, not able to sit calmly. „Stop this. Just...just stop this, okay? You cannot be sorry. You need to hate me, resent me. I screwed everything up. Be angry or something.“

„Lina,“ he whispers softly for what must be the eighth time that day and stands up too, cupping her cheek softly, gently enough for her to break free if that’s what she wants. „As if I could ever hate you.“

Lina’s heart breaks at those words. She is sure it does, she can feel the sharp pain in her chest and it must be that, right? Tears are threatening to fall once again and her hands are trembling and Tatum just stands there, thumb tracing her cheekbone tenderly, looking at her, waiting.

Patiently, calmly. Waiting. As he always is.

„You should,“ she whispers at the very same moment the first tear fall down, at the very moment a sob leaves her mouth. „You need to. I am not the Lina I used to be, Tatum. I am not a good person. I am all those terrible things that you are not and I can only cause you hurt. Please, Tatum, for your own sake just... please, just hate me.“

Tatum bows his head down, his lips – warm, soft, gentle – touching her cheek, kissing the tears away.

Lina’s heart keeps breaking.

„I know who you are, Lina girl. I see you as you are.“

Another kiss on the other cheek.

„It’s the past. Past that has not been easy for either of us. But it’s gone. We have each other now and I will have you for as long as you will have me.“

„But-„ she protests, only for Tatum’s thumb on her lips to stop her.

„You are not what you have done. You are not what happened to you. You are my best friend. My Lina. My galyetas. You are still the very same Lina that created the Valentine’s Day card for me at the age of five because you were worried I wouldn’t get a card from anyone else.“

They both chuckle at the memory – the bastard got eight – eight! – Valentine’s Day cards that year.

„You are still the Lina that alarmed her mother and all the assistants on the President tour because you needed to get back to Rutherland immediately – because it was the first Mother’s Day without my mom and you knew I would be miserable.“

Well, yeah, her mother was not overly happy when she had to pay for the private jet that took Lina back home. Immediately.

Tatum’s hand traces her jawline, falling down on her neck, her shoulder, her exposed collarbone until it lands on her chest, until Lina’s heart beats under it.

„You are the Lina I grew up with. You are my best friend. You are the most important person in my life and that cannot be changed. I know who you are. I see you as you are, I see you as the beautiful, loving, compassionate Lina you are and it hurts me to know that you cannot see yourself that way.“

Another sobs escapes Lina and she feels dizzy, heart beating rapidly, head underwater.

(How is she supposed to deal with this? With him and with herself?)

„I will make sure to remind you,“ Tatum whispers into her ear, kissing her earlobe there and again, Lina has no idea what to say. Again, she acts instead.

She kisses him, a deep, slow kiss and here it is again, that hope that it’s enough.

(It is. It always is.)

*** ***

Thank you so much for reading, again! I am already working on the third part in which these two finally get to the banging so I hope you won't get tired of them just yet

#l & t #foreign affairs #tatum mendoza #tatum x mc #tatum x lina #lina monroe

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wendystales · 3 years

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Memories - lrh (Chapter Six)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Five ※※※※※ Chapter Seven

“Problems in the fairy world: After almost two years, Luke Hemmings and Marnie McGonagall break up”

“The lovely couple of 2020, the model Marnie McGonagall and the singer Luke Hemmings, break up after almost two years of relationship”

“Shaken structure : After an accident and amnesia, Marnie McGonagall and Luke Hemmings puts an end to the relationship for a year and a half ”

After a week in peace and serenity, or something like that, my second one started with the internet breaking at the end of my relationship with Luke.

All the tabloids, renowned newspaper sites, gossip sites. All social networks. All radio stations. Everyone was commenting on.

All articles were based on “someone close to the couple”. Who? I have no idea, since after a slight spurt of distrust, I realized that none of my friends would do that. According to Noah, this was just the media playing, hoping to see if Luke or I would take the bait.

With my good leg beating at a fast pace, signaling my nervousness, I keep staring at the TV in silence, while Noah paces behind me, trying to control everything. The doorbell rings and I watch him go to answer. When Luke comes into view, I get up quickly and walk over to him, hugging him.

I close my eyes, feeling safer. I don't know how to deal with half the Los Angeles media behind me for a statement, or expecting a slip-up to attack me. I release all the air trapped in my lungs, in no hurry to break that hug.

“Are you okay?” he whispers and I just shake my head as if it was okay, or something close to it. “Great, that's what matters.” he leaves a kiss on my shoulder, before letting go and greeting Noah right.

“What's the order?” I see my friend question.

“The usual. They don't want me to say anything, but I won't be quiet while they attack her. I never stayed and it is not now that I will.” Luke replies, decided.

“Are they attacking me?” I ask approaching the two, who look at me without knowing what to say.

Since the headlines came out, Noah planted a lookout here at home, because he is the one who woke me up, and since then he hasn't let me see anything, just the TV and the mute yet. I knew he was protecting me, but I didn't know what.

The two look at each other and Luke approaches me again, sitting on the couch. As he tries to find a million ways to start, I interrupt him.

“Why do I feel like we already had this conversation?” I ask suspiciously.

“Because we already did, before we tell the media.” he scratches the back of his neck.

Once again, before he starts, Noah's cell phone rings and he leaves, leaving us alone.

“So?” I incentive to continue.

“There are a group of people, who like the band, but don't like our relationship and well …”

“They attack me.” I say, shortening for him. Luke states awkwardly. “How and why?” I don't know if I really want to know, but I know I need to.

Luke scratches his forehead. I feel bad for having to pass it on or go over it.

“They say bad things about you, about your job, about us. But nothing, nothing, is true.” Luke stresses "nothing" already knowing that most likely I would have that in my head. “Look, no matter what we do, there will always be people wanting to get in the middle and think they know more than the two of us, so just ignore it. Let them talk to themselves, they stop and go on to another topic. OK?” his face lowers, trying to meet my eyes, which were focusing on the pillow between us.

“OK!” I look at him with a weak smile. Luke gives a weak smile too, before giving me a kiss on the forehead and going after Noah to post his text.

In his tweets, Luke explains what happened between the two of us. He tells about my amnesia and how we both talked, and together, we decided to take a break, until I got used to my life or until I remembered everything. In the sequence, he also made clear all the affection and respect that we still had for each other. In addition to pulling the ear of whoever was attacking me or blaming me.

I don't know where it would be my fault. After all, I am the victim. Not to mention that none of this would be happening if it weren't for the accident. I would probably still be with Luke, together and happy.

I stare at the rug, hoping and praying for some memory to come, but my brain ignores me. I sigh, sinking into the couch. I look at the balcony, seeing the two talking. Luke is too perfect, it is not possible. I wouldn't have all that maturity.

This is not just maturity ...

I close my eyes, trying to silence my conscience. I know what it was, but not talking or thinking makes it seem like it’s not real.

Who am I kidding?!

Soon Luke's tweets were on TV, with several photos and videos of appearances, and everyone was commenting. Apparently the text was well accepted by the media, which changed the focus of the relationship a little and went back to talking about my accident. I hold my breath when the accident video is played again. I get up calling the attention of the two, who return to the living room and turn off the TV.

“Are you OK?” Noah asks attentively. I just nod.

“I need to go. I'm sure someone will show up at the studio to discuss with me. Later I try to stop by or call you.” Luke warns, coming towards me.

I hug him again, feeling safe. I apologize for getting him into this mess.

“It is not your fault and what matters is your well-being. And remember.” he holds my face, making me look into his blue eyes. “Nothing they say about you is true, don't let that take your head. I'll call you later.” he kisses me on the forehead and leaves.

“Oh, it is so difficult to see you like this and know that you are not together.” I turn to Noah, who is sitting on the sofa, looking at me in pain. I throw a pillow over his face and sit back down next to him.

“Believe me, I know.” I watch one more picture of us on the screen. “We are a beautiful couple.” I give a sad smile.

“Are?” Noah comments with a hopeful smile. “Can I start to ship again and create expectations?” he nudges me.

“First of all, did you ever stop to ship and create expectations?” Noah gives a weird smile. “Second, even if you haven't stopped, no. Despite everything, I still don't feel anything for Luke.” I sigh.

Perhaps "nothing" was a very strong word. I have affection and gratitude, but that I also have for Noah, Kyleen, Mike, Ashton, Calum and Leah, that is, it didn't mean much. What I needed was not there yet. However, I still hope to happen.

[...]

“Doesn't he look beautiful dressed like that? You have to see when he uses the overalls.” Calum sits next to me, provoking Ashton who was sitting on the floor, moving in his garden.

“Old Ashton had a farm, ieieo.” I humming with Calum, continuing the provocation.

I take the water bottle from Calum's hand, watching Ash dressed in faded jeans, a dirty T-shirt and a wide straw hat. I give a short laugh, watching Ashton glare at Calum. Apparently, his hobby in gardening was pretty funny.

“I already know what to give you on your birthday.” I get on the joke with Calum.

“You already gave that.” the two talk together, scaring me.

I look at them both with wide eyes as they laugh. This is already getting boring, it seems that everyone has some advantage over me. I see the idea of the garden kit for kids going down the drain. I didn't know what to give, now then.

“Then I will need your help with this.” I whisper to Calum, who just nods.

“So, you stopped when Luke left.” Ash reminds me.

After yesterday, with my name and Luke's in everyone's mouth, today I didn't want to stay at home, I needed to relax, so the two ladies went to pick me up to spend the afternoon here at Ashton's house with them. Especially because they wanted to know how I was doing and I wanted to hear from Luke.

“Well, everything was fine. Everything calmed down, as far as possible, until the intercom rang.” I give a discredited laugh, remembering yesterday. “When Stephen appeared at the door of my building.”

The two looked at me in astonishment.

“You're kidding, right?” Ashton even got up, approaching me.

“Go for me, I would like a lot, but no. He knew about Luke and me and wanted to try the chance. Little does he know that I already know everything.” I comment the last part quietly, not wanting to focus on that.

“This guy is unbelievable. How does he have that courage?!” Calum comments outraged.

“Did you tell Luke?” Ashton asks, after walking around as outraged as Cal.

“No and I don't know if I'm going to tell.” they look at me alarmed. “I don't want Luke to feel like he has to have any responsibility to keep Stephen from me and I know he will.” I confirm my theory when Cal shakes his head, agreeing with me. “Nothing happened either, Noah went down and ran him, it was just an isolated case.” I shrug.

I didn't expect Stephen to show up, not after the hospital, however, if he ever had the courage to show up for the first time after everything I experienced (according to my diary), the hospital misunderstanding was nothing for him.

I can't hide that I was very tempted to go down and break my cast on his head, but Noah was quicker, locking me at home and going in my place. According to him, now was not the time for an aggression scandal. Do what?! He's right.

“I understand you, my love, but as a friend, I advise you to tell.” Ash sits next to me. “This will end up getting to him, like it or not, so it better be for you.”

“Yeah, no need to go into details, but tell him.” Hood reinforces.

“I don't know if Parker's party is an appropriate place, but it may be easier to relax afterwards.” Ashton shrugs, wanting to help.

“Ah, I heard about this party. He's Noah's fling, isn't he?”

“Don't let Noah hear that.” Calum laughs, catching my attention.

But it was Leah who told me about them.

“Noah and Parker resemble you and Hemmo very much at the beginning. Everyone knows something is going to happen, but you guys play hard to get”. Ashton explains. I open my mouth to defend myself, but according to my diary, that was it.

I don't help myself.

“Well, regardless of his status, I won't.” the two look at me surprised and upset. “ I'm not ready for parties yet, sorry, but I don't want to sit all night on the couch without being able to dance or having to drag it up and down.” I point to the orthopedic boot on my foot, irritated by that thing.

“But what are you going to do over the weekend then?’ Cal asks.

“You will laugh and judge me.” I answer with a pout. I may not know them well enough, but enough to understand what they are like.

“Calum quite capable, but I don't.” Calum opens his arms, visibly offended by Ash's comment, making me laugh. “You laugh at that fall of Mike in the London show until today and it has more than seven years.”

It was Ashton talking about this show that Hood started to laugh, agreeing that he was the most likely to laugh at me.

“I still have the video.” he comments after a sigh, stopping laughing.

“Tell me.” my friend asks me, turning my attention to him.

“ I'm going to throw myself on my couch, with a lot of junk food and watch makeover programs and maybe some movies. This is going to be my weekend.” I tell after a sigh.

“This is so depressing that I can't even laugh.” Calum says shaking his head in denial. I look at him indignantly. Come on?! It's not so bad.

“Really, M&Ms? Is this going to be your weekend? On the couch clogging up with food?” Ashton is more indignant than I am with Cal.

“ I'm not in the mood, I'm sorry. But don't worry, Kyleen told me about your birthday party and I will, I swear.” I raise my right hand, as if I were in court.

“You are not even crazy to consider not going. I bring you by the boot.” he counters by returning to the vase he was stirring before.

“Was he always that delicate?” I ask Calum, who spits half the water.

“Oh, Marnie, you need to spend more time with us.” he pats my knee, like an old man telling about his childhood.

“Well, changing the subject a little, and Luke, how is he?” Ashton and Calum look at each other to get my attention.

“He's taking it. He has been busy with some compositions, he has lived in the studio.” Calum replies, going around the mouth of the bottle with his finger.

I look at Ashton, who was still thoughtful. Luke is probably not as well as they try to pass me, or something else is going on.

“He'll be fine!” Irwin reinforces, trying to keep me calm.

I decide not to poke the situation anymore and focus my thoughts on the conversation we were having when I arrived, which was to recall some more facts from the last few years.

“Wait, and you got stuck in the room? And the girl is gone?” I question Calum, very lost in the whole story of how he met Kyleen.

“Yes, the girl locked me there and I don't know where she went, but Kyleen came and released me.” he explains.

“You need to find more normal girls, seriously, you have a serious problem in choosing someone.” I tell them. Serious! Emery, this girl now, my God, what a rotten picker.

“After that we went out a few times and she became part of the team. Shortly thereafter, we met Noah and Leah. That's been six years. Something around there.” Cal finishes.

“Went out?” I widen my eyes. “Have you and Kyleen ever had an affair?” I approached him, shocked, seeing him nod. “ Oh my God!”

“ It's really fun to tell her things, isn't it?” Ash laughs, seeing my reaction.

“Yes, but it came to nothing, it was more fun and in the end, it started to get weird. So, we decided to just be friends.” Hood responds. Once again, I look at Ash with my mouth open, making him laugh.

“She didn't tell me that. What a bitch.” I lean against the wall, indignant.

After the fun afternoon with Tweedledee and Tweedledum, Calum took me home, since today I was having dinner with my father and Meredith for the first time.

“Anything call me, okay?” Hood speaks before saying goodbye. “Especially if Meredith brings that peach pie with homemade whipped cream.” I watch with wide eyes, he close his eyes dreaming of the pie. “I can even taste it.” he finally sighs.

“Do you want me to keep a piece?” he quickly nods, smiling. “Okay, bye, Cal. Thanks!”

I get out of the car laughing. I couldn't ask for better friends.

I keep imagining a million scenarios while I get ready and wait for them to arrive. I know that Meredith and I know each other and get along, but that doesn't stop my anxiety from attacking.

The doorbell rings and I almost cry, regretting not having canceled before. I open the door to find Meredith fixing the collar of my father's shirt, which held the so famous pie. I watch the woman with medium dark hair and a long jumpsuit, opening a warm smile. My father steps forward and gives me a hug.

“How are you?” he analyzes me.

“Well, every day better.” I give a nervous smile. Then the time came. “Hey!” I open my smile a little more to receive Meredith.

She takes a step towards me, shy and extends her hand. I squeeze willingly and give passage to the two of them. We sat at the table and stared at each other for a few seconds, until I realized that I didn't put the dish on the table.

“Sorry.” I mention getting up, but my father takes the lead.

I understand that he wants to help, but being alone with Meredith, even for two seconds, was still not comfortable.

“So …” I start. “I saw that you are going to publish a second book.”

“Ah yes yes. Next week, I can't wait.” she responds excitedly.

Her first book was about toxic relationships and to my amazement, I helped out on some points. The second book would be about the new beginning, the emotional and financial freedom of women. She was not a Jane Austen, because the genres are different, but she is well known.

“I know I'm suspicious to talk, but it looks incredible. Your mother read and loved it.” my father comments the last part in a natural way. However, Meredith notes that I was a little uncomfortable and changed the subject.

I discreetly thanks. My parents' divorce and their friendship is something that I am still absorbing. I accept, but I am learning to cope.

We started talking about my father's trip to Japan and how he fumbled over there. It didn't take long for me to get comfortable with Meredith over there, she's as funny as my dad and very kind.

Meredith must be my mother's age, but she has an energy that makes her look much younger. She wears colorful clothes, always has a huge smile on her face and a contagious laugh. It is good to be close to her. I discover that her first husband was her high school boyfriend, but unfortunately he died of cancer.

Then she started dating an organic food store owner, but he was not a nice guy. It was from this relationship that the first book came out. I admire the courage and strength she had to put an end to it. In return, she had Kendall and Samantha, who look adorable.

“Ah, before I forget.” She takes some papers out of her bag. “The twins made some drawings for you.”

I open those papers with a huge smile. The paintings contained various hearts, flowers, Petunia in various forms and even their self-portrait with me. Everyone wished me well and said that I was the best sister in the world.

“I do not even know what to say.” I am touched. I always wanted to have siblings and since I knew them both, the desire to meet them only increases. The only issue is the fear that they won't like me.

“They are dying to see you, but we said they need to wait for you to be ready. I know there is still a lot to assimilate and absorb.” Meredith says calmly. I am grateful that they do not press anything.

But like everything, I needed to face this. Being afraid of two five-year-olds is not going to help at all. In fact, it will only make me miss them more.

“Yes, you commented on the interview that Meredith will give on the afternoon program, on Wednesday. If they want, I can take care of them.” I suggest nervous, after all, I have amnesia, a broken arm and a leg in the orthopedic boot. I don't know if I'm reliable.

They both look at each other and shrug. For them, I wouldn't have the slightest problem, and certainly not for the children. So it was agreed, Wednesday, I would find my brothers, and may God help me.

“Who's up for pie?” Meredith opens that smile again.

I end up laughing again, remembering Calum earlier. I send a photo of my plate to him, who responds with crying emojis and a huge audio, begging to keep his piece.

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lovethisletters · 3 years

Text

I miss you

Idk how to even start this except for: I'm so SO SO sorry @melyaliz thank u for being so patient with me 😖💕✨ this year has been hard for all of us, online school is much more difficult than I initially expected but I would keep trying my best! Hopefully you will grant me the possibility of keep writing this amazing characters of yours even though your experience with me as a writer hasn't been the greatest :c , then again thank you for your patience, happy holidays! And happy new year! Hopefully this will be a better year for all of us. 💕✨

Faith is @melyaliz OC!

It started a few weeks ago, his obsession. Tim had been trying to get information regarding Black Mask's newest plan.

—I trust you, Tim— were Bruce's last words before leaving to attend urgent matters with the Justice League, this time in space.

And since then, he worked more diligently than ever before: going undercover and placing microphones and trackers at locations in the false-face society, interrogating thugs, hours glued to his computer trying to figure something out.

While this behavior was not unusual for Tim, Faith began to worry ... call it a hunch, perhaps a gut feeling but something told her this would not end well; however, she tried to bury it and pretend that it was simply her usual concern for Tim's habits and that once it was all over, things would calm down.

But the end was only the true beginning of things.

That night Tim was in the Batcave as usual, and the rest of the family were preparing to patrol, when they suddenly heard a scream of anger and frustration.

—No! No! No! Fuck you!—

Silence invaded the mansion and was only interrupted by the sound of Batmobile's tires screeching and running at full speed.

—What's the deal with him? —Damian (already in his Robin suit) asked while trying to look through out the window, but the vehicle was already long gone.

Faith wasted no time and sprinted towards the Batcave.

And there it was, on the screen of the Batcomputer a giant, green, question mark. Riddler.

In the morning the news reported Riddler's arrest at the hands of Red Robin but it wasn't until 4 days later that Tim returned to the mansion; Physically he was fine but his ego and self-confidence was beyond bruised after what had happened and the information he managed to gather from Riddler's lair:

Tim's efforts had been all in vain, Riddler had caught up to Black Mask's suspicious activity recently and also to the fact that Batman seemed to have disappeared, so he devised a plan, surprisingly alongside Cobblepot in a deal (the details of which Tim was unaware) that seemed beneficial to both. Riddler started a little investigation on his own trying to find blackmail material ... until ... he hit the jackpot. One of his undercover henchmen had been interrogated by Tim alerting Riddler of Red Robin conducting an investigation as well, so ... He did a little digging and found out that Red Robin had been longer in this. So why not just take it? That night Tim had unveiled the last piece of the puzzle in Black Mask's plans, when suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the computer started to go crazy, sending every piece of information to (apparently ... but not really ) different directions ending with the screen showing the infamous green question mark.

Out of frustration Tim tracked down Riddler, throwed him on blackgate, recovered most but not all the stolen information and piced it all together.

He felt enraged, stupid, mocked, useless. Why haven't he realized about Riddler spying on him? He was foolish! The safety of the Batfamily could have been in danger have he been even more careless than he already was! His brothers, His mentor, His family ... His beloved Faith ... he had disappointed them all.

Everything went down hill from there.

His bad self-destructive habits went from 60 to 1000, He talked, ate and slept much MUCH less and although various family members had tried to converse with him, they were simply ignored, including Faith.

At least 2 hours had passed, she watched; his fingers danced fleetingly and aggressively on the keyboard, his green eyes glued to the monitor, he hadn't looked at her even once since she entered the room so she wondered if he even knew she was there.

—Tim, you haven't eaten anything ... wanna go whit us at belly burger? Dick said is his treat! —Her tone was slow and gentle trying not to disturb him.

—I'm good, you go — He wasn't ... He was getting thinner, and to be honest he didn't even remember if he had eaten that day or the day before.

—Then ... you want us to bring you something? anything? —She insisted but only got silence as a response.

In other situations, Faith would have been a little bit more aggressive with his approach: nagging him a little, blocking his view of the computer by standing in front of it or even carrying him out of his room making him blush wildly; but this time was different. Faith could tell how much the words Bruce said before leaving meant to him. Normally Bruce would put Dick or Jason in charge of situations like this (because he knew how "diligent" Tim could be with himself), but ... this time he trusted Tim to handle it; I have tried harder than ever before, but by concentrating on one thing he had forgotten to see the big picture. He felt like a failure, unworthy and she knew it.

She knew him better than anyone, better than himself, she could practically feel his pain.

Faith always knew about Tim's self-esteem issues. He always tried to hide them, he didn't like to see himself as vulnerable, especially having the responsibility of a vigilante life, but she learned about them since the beginning of their relationship: He was so nervous to talk to her, make extra efforts on their dates and once she heard him confess to Jason: "How can someone so beautiful actually like me?" Jason had laughed and mocked him by saying "I was wondering the same" in his eyes it was only a joke but this small comment made Tim even more insecure about his blossoming relationship. Faith noticed ... He was a people pleaser, always complying with everyone else's request in fear of being left alone, with her it was no different, several times Tim agreed to Faith's wishes even if he wasn't all that ... excited about them: like that time they went cave-diving ... it was a mess ... So in their next date Faith asked "What do YOU wanna do?" he said "Whatever you want is fine" but she wasn't having it, a relationship is mutual and she wanted him to know that "Nope, this time you pick!"

And it evolved from there: She being patient with him, letting him know that he did not have to comply with all his suggestions as if they were orders and that having limits is fine and him being gentle and understanding with her, letting her know that she could trust him with everything.

And now ... they felt just so far appart ... like he was no longer by her side.

But she wasn't going to give up that easily ... she was stubborn and he had told her millions of times that he adored that about her.

Tim flinched a little when he felt her arms gently circling his waist, his chin resting on her head before he gave a chaste kiss to her tousled curls and let out a small sigh.

—Timothy. Jackson. Drake ... I miss you — People tend to forget how much simple and straight forward words can make you feel, long and tiring speeches can bury the feelings we are so desperately trying to convey, so when Tim heard those words ... He understood, he understood how distant he has been from her, how much she had waited for him, patiently and understanding of his feelings.

—I-I-I'm sorry ... Faith-

He could only return the hug from his chair, allowing himself to cry, taking out all his frustration as she stroked his hair moving him closer to his chest so that he could listen to his heart and regulate his breathing to the rhythm of it, preventing Tim from starting to hyperventilate.

—I'm sorry ... I'm sorry, please forgive me, please ...— He wouldn't stop apologizing profusely, like he had committed the worst of crimes.

—It's okay, love ... I'm always here for you — She said, taking his face in her hands, wiping away his tears gently with her thumb like he had done with her a thousand times before.

—I will always be here for you ...

Me again! As an apology for taking so long and as a gift for the holidays here is this:

#fics #batfam #batfamily #faith o'neal #tim drake x oc #tim drake imagine

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fragmentoftemptation · 3 years

Text

The Spiral

Fandom: BNHA/ MHA

Characters: Shouto Todoroki, Dabi

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Artwork: @tweendeck

It was... Dabi. He had Touya's crystal blue eyes, but Shouto could barely recognize the man in front of him. Instead of bright red hair, he had shorter spiked Raven black hair. His entire lower jaw was covered in an intricate tattoo of black roses and vines that went all the way down his neck and disappeared under his shirt, more peaking out in full sleeves on each arm. He had snakebites and a spiked labret on his bottom lip, matching studs on the outside of each eyebrow, two subdermals at the top of sharpcut cheekbones, and more earrings than Shouto could count. He had thick black eyeliner under each eye, and his bottom lip was painted black to blend in with his tattoo. He was wearing a leather jacket and a tight blank tank underneath.

And he was actually there. In front of Shouto. For the first time in four years.

Hurry up and get in here before anyone else sees you," Touya urged, a note of annoyance in his voice. "And close the door."

Shouto nodded, closing the door quickly, and hurrying to sit down across from his brother. Touya fished a joint out of his pocket, a short burst of blue flame from his fingertips lighting it up. He took a deep hit as he looked at Shouto. Finally, he exhaled the smoke, flashing a lazy smile.

"It's good to see you Shouto," he said. "You look good. Almost too good. I expected you to wear something less like sex on legs."

"I wanted to fit in. I didn't want anyone to recognize me." Shouto admitted shyly, a definite blush rising to his cheeks.

"Well you definitely fit in. Guess I should be glad my old clothes are still being used. I would have thought daddy dearest tossed it all."

"He thinks we did. I had it all moved into storage with mom's stuff. I wanted you to have it for once you come back home." Shouto knew how childish it sounded. Four years later, he knew Touya would never come back to the house, but his stuff had been a way for Shouto to hold onto hope since he disappeared.

Touya's smile dropped. He sighed heavily.

"That's not going to happen. Shouto, that's not my life anymore. I belong here."

"But you don't have too Touya, you still-"

"Shhh..." Touya shushed him, standing up and peaking outside the door. "You can't use that name here. It's dangerous."

"It's your name." Shouto insisted.

"No. It's not anymore. Fuck Shouto. I don't know how you recognized me in the forest. But I know you have been googling me and the league and you have to stop. You are going to stir up trouble if you haven't already. This is all I have. And you don't want anything to do with it."

"Come home," Shouto could feel the tears gathering. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would not cry. "Just come. Endeavor has the news in his pocket. He will help you twist the story, you don't have to work for the league."

"I can't. It's not that simple."

"Why not."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"No. It wouldn't make a difference."

"It would to me!" Shouto yelled, standing up and leaning into Touya's face. Four years! Four years alone in that house with that asshole. "You left me with him. After years of promising me that we would leave together. That we wouldn't have to live in that house forever, and then you just left. You owe me an explanation, dammit!" He sat back down, glaring at his brother and trying to steady his breathing.

"You think you know what happened four years ago. You have no idea." Touya replied quietly, staring into a cup on the table.

"I know more than you think."

"Why? Because you checked out the police record?” His brother’s eyes shot up to meet Shouto’s. Shouto was taken back for a moment by how cold and emotionless they looked. He could see now how some of his classmates had described them that way. Touya’s hands were shaking, and he took another hit. “Yeah, I know about your attempts to find me. Shigaraki has kept an eye on anyone looking for me over the years. You're the only one Shouto. You're the only one who cared that Touya Todoroki was gone. And I don't care if you memorized that case file, you would still have no idea what really happened. Every word was a fucking lie."

"Then tell me the truth. Tell me what really happened!"

Dabi got quiet.

“It's not going to change anything."

"Fine. I still deserve to know the truth."

"Do you remember when Endeavor went on a talk show and told the world that you were training to be his successor despite the weak right side you had inherited from Mom?"

"Yes," Shouto remembered it well. After the accident with his mom, Shouto favored his right side. He barely used his fire during training. Endeavor resented it, and pulled that stunt to try and publicly embarrass him about his ice. After that day, Shouto swore he would never use his fire again. He didn’t need that bastard or his quirk to become a hero.

"It was a few days after that. You and he had gotten into an argument during training the night before. He was pissed. The next day was one of my intern days, and Endeavor decided he was going to be my patrol partner. He bitched and moaned and complained about you. Said he was going to find a way to make you use your left side. Whether you wanted to or not. I told him to shut the fuck up.” Dabi laughed, but it was a cold sound. “He didn’t take that very well. Reported me for aggressive behavior. About an hour later, we got called in for a bank robbery. Biggest crime I had gotten to help with since starting my internship. Endeavor was the highest ranked hero on site, so he became the mission lead. He was fighting with some villain in the bank, but they were a smart group. Two of the others split up, one had over a million yen with him, the other had a little girl as a hostage. Endeavor told me to retrieve the money, that another hero was on his way to retrieve the hostage. So I did. But I had only chased him a block when I found myself facing off against four of them. Even with a powerful quirk, I wasn’t enough to stop them. They beat the shit out of me and left with the money. When I got back to the scene, the other hero hadn’t arrived in time. The little girl had been killed.”

Dabi took a minute. His breathing was heavy. Shouto felt bad. It was clear this was a difficult memory for him. But he had to know. If he had any chance of understanding. He had to know what happened. So he waited, and after a moment, Dabi continued.

“Endeavor was pissed that I hadn’t retrieved the money. When we got back to the agency, I was in bad shape. Any other hero would have gone to the infirmary, but Endeavor handed me an icepack and told me to get to work on the paperwork. When I asked him what for, he told me that as my mistake had both cost the little girl her life and failed the primary objective of the mission, that it was my responsibility to complete all the paperwork for the death and the lost yen. My mistake. My fucking mistake.” Dabi took a sip of his drink, and a hit. His left hand was gripping his cup so hard his knuckles were white. “I knew it was no use arguing. There had been no other heroes around to witness his orders. So I took the paperwork. It took me hours, and I was exhausted by the time I got home.

When I got home, I found Endeavor in the training room. He was sitting in a chair smoking a cigar and staring at you. You were laying on the other side of the room, unconscious with your head resting in a puddle of blood. You had split the back of your head open and had some burns on your chest. It was clear you had tried to fight back, and your right arm had been overused. It was raw and bloody, and looked like dad had pushed you way past minor frostbite from quirk overuse. When I asked him what had happened, he shrugged and told me that one day you would use your left side, one way or another. I started to gather you up to take you to the hospital, and he told me to leave you and go to bed. He said you would never learn your lesson if we healed you.”

“And I snapped. The next thing I knew, I was attacking him with my flames. I don’t really know what I expected to accomplish, but I attacked him with everything I had. But the bastard is strong, and I was already in bad shape from the day. He left me with third-degree burns all over my face and arms. He knew he had fucked up right away, and was forced to call the hospital. But to cover up for his abuse, he said I attacked you because I was on drugs. He paid someone off to falsify a drug test saying I had done LSD. Luckily the hospital was able to minimize the damage, though the burns were too severe to completely heal the scars. The doctors recommended one month in the hospital for healing and physical therapy for my face and arms.”

“A week later, Endeavor checked me out of the hospital in the middle of the night, and drove me to the worst part of town. He said he would never abide to have a child who would raise a hand against him. I had lost the right to be called a Todoroki. He told me to leave town. He said if he ever saw me again, he would have mom killed in the hospital. And he would Shouto. He really would have. He had you, that was all he ever needed from her. He left me there, and reported me as a runaway. He cut access to all my accounts, and closed all of my cards. I had nothing but the clothes on my back. It was Shigaraki who helped me. If he hadn’t taken me in, I probably would have died.”

Shouto felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He thought he might be physically sick. His mind warred between the police report and Touya’s chilling memories. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know where to begin. He knew Endeavor was low, and he knew the pro hero had paid people off to spin a story in his favor before. But even he hadn’t thought his father was capable of sinking so low. Endeavor had nearly killed two of his children that night. He had left Touya for dead.

Touya laughed, another cold and bitter laugh as he raised the joint back up to his lips.

“Do you feel better, Shouto? Will it help you sleep better at night, knowing the truth?”

Shouto looked up at Touya. At Dabi. This wasn’t fair. Endeavor shouldn’t be able to get away with this.

“We can fix it. If we work together, we can go to the newspaper without him knowing. We can set the record straight. You and I could get an apartment, and we could both escape that asshole.” Shouto was reaching for strings, anything. There had to be a way to fix this.

“That sounds real nice, Shouto. But there is no going back. I have done things in these past four years. I didn’t just run away and sit on my fucking thumbs. I am a member of the League of Villains. If you knew the things I have done, you would be disgusted. There is no more Touya Todoroki, Shouto. Dabi is all that is left.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21759583/chapters/51915700

#have loved the touya is dabi theory since day one!#psyched that its cannon!#dabi #dabi is touya #dabi is a todoroki #loved it so much i wrote an entire AU #dabi and shouto ❤️#shouto todoroki #mha #mha fanfiction #mha spoilers #bnha #bnha fanfiction #bnha spoilers #recommended for 18+#read on ao3 #ao3 author

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spaceskam · 5 years

Note

I don't know if you've ever listened to When you're ready by Shawn Mendes but everytime I listen to it I can only think of Malex ♥️ "Even 10 years from now if you haven't found somebody, i promise i'll be around" "Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin'" could you maybe write about it?

this is quite literally the most malex thing i have ever heard. every goddamn line of this song is malex related. Thank you so much for the prompt and I’m sorry it took me a million years!

ao3

“I don’t understand why you’re mad at me!”

Alex stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face him. He looked genuinely hurt and confused and maybe one drink more, Alex would’ve stooped to his level of transparency.

“Are you serious? You don’t know?”

“No,” Michael gushed, tears welling up in his eyes as he raked his fingers through his hair. God, he was wasted. “All I know is you told me you only wanted to be my friend and nothing more. Then you lied to me so I didn’t get to be with my mom. Then you came to me and, and started doing the thing where you’re super sweet so you can fuck me and leave me. And I would’ve let you!”

Alex clenched his jaw, taking each blow as best he could.

“Isobel helped me see I needed to protect myself. So I went to Maria before I could give into you! The one time I protect myself from you and you’re mad at me! Stop it! I can barely take seeing you, I can’t take this! Stop!” he screamed.

Alex licked his lips, taking a slow and regulated breath as he stared at the broken man in front of him. He was full-on crying at this point, pulling at his hair and Alex was so thankful for his military training. That was the only thing keeping him on his feet.

“Michael,” Alex said softly, taking a step forward. Maybe he was hallucinating, but Michael seemed to stare crying even harder. “Is that really what you feel happened?”

Michael didn’t answer right away, a million emotions washing over his face. Alex took another step forward. This was one of those stupid moments where he had to be the strong one. He hoped he’d be able to cash it all in one day when he inevitably broke.

“What are you mad at me?” Michael asked again, weaker this time. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that he knew why. He wanted to hear it. He was scared and he needed to hear it.

Alex rested his palms on Michael’s warm, wet cheeks and the man instantly melted into the touch. He wiped his tears away, lifting his hand just long enough to push his hair back. The stench of alcohol and acetone and weed was suffocating, coming off him in droves. Alex had to wonder if they were letting him get this fucked up or if he was sneaking it. He didn’t know which was worse.

“Come talk to me when you’re sober, okay?” Alex whispered, continuing to wipe away his tears, “I am upset with you, but that doesn’t mean I’m walking away. I’m here when you need me no matter what.” Michael sloppily felt for Alex’s wrists before holding on tight.

“You just were. You just tried to leave me, I saw you,” Michael whimpered. Alex sighed, closing his eyes to try and build up his walls a bit better. It was difficult. Michael had gone from kissing Maria to being putty in Alex’s hands in less than an hour. Sure, everything in his system played a part, but, deep down, he knew that wasn’t the reason. Michael was lost and hurting and Alex could wade in the water for him.

It’d already been a decade‒what was a little more?

“Come see me when you’re sober,” Alex repeated, “We’ll talk about anything and everything.”

“Then you’ll stop being mad at me?” he asked. Alex couldn’t answer. He honestly had no idea when he would stop feeling so horrible. He didn’t know what would erase the image of them kissing from his mind.

“I’ll get you are Lyft to take you home, okay? You’re too drunk to drive,” he whispered. When he tried to pull away, Michael held him tight.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” he pleaded. A mournful whine brew in the back of Alex’s throat at the desperation on Michael’s face. He so badly wanted to say yes, to bring him home and wrap him up and fall asleep to the sound of his breathing. But that wasn’t an option, not tonight. Not when Michael had a girlfriend and would regret the choice in the morning.

“Not tonight,” Alex insisted. Michael’s bloodshot eyes scanned over his face, slowly welling up with tears all over again.

“I messed up bad, didn’t I? That’s why you’re mad?” he asked. God, this was torture.

“Michael, just… we’ll talk about it over later. I promise,” Alex said, fishing for his phone to get him a ride home. As much as he wanted to just take him himself, he didn’t actually trust himself not to stay if Michael asked again.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I messed up. I’m sorry.” Michael’s words were a slurring, slobbery mess between sobs. Alex quickly pulled him into a tight hug, letting the man divulge into borderline hysterical sobbing. Honestly, Alex wasn’t sure what he thought he messed up. He’d already made it clear he hadn’t understood.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Alex said, shushing him like he would a fussy baby.

“No! It’s not! Stop hugging me, stop, like, like, consoling me! I messed up!” Michael made no move to pull away, even as he told Alex to stop, and for a moment it felt like a horrible guilt trip.

“Michael, st‒”

“No, listen,” Michael said, sniffling as he pulled away just enough to rest his forehead on Alex’s, “I-I’m gonna come, like you said. I wanna talk. I want… I’m sorry. Please, let me fix it.” And, god, how nice it would’ve been if Alex could’ve accepted that. But it was impossible to miss the way his eyes refused to focus and the way he had to steady himself while standing still. Michael was so fucked up, he probably wouldn’t even remember this in the morning.

“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” Alex couldn’t help it. All he was hearing was empty apologies.

“No,” Michael admitted, “But I know I hurt you and that hurts me more than anything. I spent ten years waiting for you to come back to me and letting you hurt me that I… I didn’t realize how bad it feels. I know you felt this bad. I know it. I see it. I feel it. I feel you.”

“Guerin…”

“No! Pinky swear we’ll talk,” Michael urged, holding up a pinky. Alex sighed and tried to avoid it, but Michael insisted. He looped his pinky through the other man’s, watching it bring a weird sort of calm over him. “Now we gotta kiss it to make it official.” Michael kissed his hand and Alex reluctantly mimicked him if only to get him to stop. “Good. Good.”

Michael was petting at his chest, wobbling and sniffling all the way. The severity of his behavior made Alex consider bringing him home anyways and having him sleep on the couch so he could check on him. The only issue with that would be dealing with the possible backlash from it that he really didn’t want. But this was Michael, this was family, and he needed help. Even if Michael was hurting him more than he could even comprehend, he was still going to be there.

No matter what anyone thought, Alex had never been good at leaving him.

“C’mon, you’re gonna sleep on my couch tonight, okay?”

Michael let out the world’s biggest sigh of relief.

Alex woke up to an empty house.

His leg was aching due to his stupid decision to sleep in the chair in the living room. He’d considered going to bed, but he couldn’t stop worrying that something would happen to Michael. He had too much shit in his system. While they didn’t know how much it took for an alien to overdose, he wasn’t eager to find out.

Yet, when he woke up the next morning, his couch was empty and so was the kitchen and the bathroom. The only proof that Michael had even stepped foot into the house and spent the night on the couch was the muddy bootprint plastered to the porch and the note on the coffee table that read: ‘thanks’.

As the day went on, Alex wondered if Michael would ever come back to talk. Or, honestly, why he hadn’t stayed to have a talk. Part of him hoped he simply forgot that they had that conversation and it wasn’t that he just didn’t want to. There was so much that he had to say, especially now that it was clear that Michael had misunderstood his intention and was now self-medicating dangerously. Alex wanted to help him if he’d let him.

The day dragged slowly, seeming to slow down even more whenever he bothered to check his phone or check to see if Michael had maybe driven up. Alex wouldn’t lie, it hurt a bit that he hadn’t stayed. Actually, it worried him more than it hurt. Why had he been so scared to stay?

A lot of things were worrying about him.

Once it was dark outside, Alex decided to go back to the Wild Pony. Anxiety bit at his stomach, telling him with certainty that he’d find Michael with Maria and they’d look happy like they had last night. However, Alex could suffer through seeing that when he knew that no one cared enough to address him being messed up beyond recognition. He’d seen them kiss, he knew that Maria had to taste it on his lips and smell it on his breath. If she wasn’t going to take care of him, then he would.

The Pony was bustling and still, Michael was right where Alex knew he’d be, sitting alone at the bar. His head was bowed against the beer bottle and he didn’t react whenever Maria would pass by and pat his head. Alex took a deep breath.

“Hey, Cowboy,” he greeted softly as he took a seat beside Michael. He was wearing the same thing he’d had on last night and smelled of the same substances. Tonight, he hadn’t even bothered hiding the flask of acetone that protruded out of his back pocket.

Michael turned to face him just a little bit, confusion written all over his tired features. Alex offered a small smile and asked the bartender that wasn’t Maria for two glasses of water. Michael never stopped staring.

“Why are you here?” Michael asked.

“I told you, I’m here when you need me,” Alex paused, giving him a once over, “Even when you don’t ask for me.”

Michael’s eyes pooled with tears, but they didn’t fall tonight. Instead, he blinked them away. He nodded.

“Drink this instead,” Alex insisted, pushing the glass of water towards him. Michael eyed it warily.

“You still mad at me?” Michael asked. Alex snorted.

“Yes. But, like I told you, I want to talk to you when you’re sober. So drink this,” Alex pressed. Michael took a deep breath but complied. It didn’t matter that Maria was watching them with jealous eyes or that a few other people in the bar were whispering about them. Michael was trying.

Alex smiled.

Alex jolted awake at the sound of his phone ringing.

He’d done his damnedest to always stay on high alert the past few weeks. Michael had been heavily relying on him, using him as a massive crutch to help him try and get sober. It was working for the most part, but there had been a few nights where he’d been left alone and he’d call Alex, drunk and apologetic and asking to be picked up from the Wild Pony. Alex didn’t blame Maria, he knew she was busy with all of her own issues, but it did rub him the wrong way that she wasn’t more forceful with keeping him away from the bar.

But she was his girlfriend, not his caretaker.

“You okay? It’s three in the morning, where are you?” Alex asked instantly, reaching for his prosthetic already.

“I’m fine, I’m at home. Just… need a distraction ‘s all,” Michael said softly on the other end of the line. Alex let go of his leg, taking a moment before he relaxed back in the bed.

“Okay,” Alex said, “How was your day?”

“Good, good. I worked with Liz for a while. Had lunch with Maria. Went to see Max in the pod,” he listed. Alex closed his eyes to the sound of his voice. It was almost embarrassing how stupid he could be for Michael Guerin, a man with a girlfriend.

“Sounds eventful. You guys any closer to figuring it out?” Alex asked. There was rustling on the other side of the phone as Michael most likely tried to get comfortable in his bed.

“Well, we were talking with Valenti and we think that we got him in the pod soon enough that we might be able to revive him with more human methods. Like, with steroids and a defibrillator to jump-start his system enough for him to get to where Iz and I could heal the rest of the way. Liz and I are working on enhancing a steroid to inject him with,” Michael explained, his tone more hopeful than he’d been in weeks. Months. Maybe years, honestly.

“That’s good, I hope it works. If you ever need my help with anything, I’m here. I know I’m not a super fantastic scientist, but I can do my best,” Alex offered. Michael let out a breathy little laugh.

“You’re so smart, Alex, there’s probably a ton of things you can help with. I’m just… I’m just glad you chose to help me. I really appreciate you and everything you do for me, Alex,” Michael said softly. Alex could feel his heart thump in his chest and his stomach tighten.

It was so weird how much he’d found himself loving Michael all over again. He didn’t think he could love the man more, but the closer they got without having sex as a distraction and with so much trust and communication, the more he found himself dizzy with infatuation. Even if Michael didn’t reciprocate it.

“What are friends for.”

“So, did you have fun on your date?”

Alex furrowed his brow at Michael’s dry tone and annoyed face even though he literally had his arm around his girlfriend.

“Uh, yeah, it wasn’t really a date,” Alex chuckled, grabbing one of the fries from Michael’s plate and dipping it into Maria’s milkshake. Maria rolled her eyes.

“It looked like a date,” Michael said firmly. Alex licked his lips as he thought back to his Grindr hookup from the night before. They’d met at the Wild Pony and played pool for a bit until they both decided they weren’t too sketchy and went back to Alex’s place where they had some pretty good sex before he left at 2 in the morning.

As much as he loved Michael and he was willing to wait, he wasn’t about to go celibate, especially when Micahel was in a relationship. There was just no point. Well, maybe there was no point in dating apps when he knew nothing would come close to what he felt with Michael. But, fuck, he deserved something while he waited.

“No, that was just one of Alex’s fuck toys, you just usually don’t see them because you’re with Liz,” Maria explained and the crease between Michael’s eyebrows got more prominent, “How was this one?”

“Good,” Alex answered, keeping it short. He knew he didn’t want to hear the details of Michael and Maria’s sex life, so he wasn’t about to put Michael through that torture.

But Maria was feeling extra pushy tonight.

“Oh, come on, tell me more than just that!” she laughed. Alex had been trying his damnedest to rekindle his friendship with Maria even though he still felt more than a little animosity towards her. He kept telling himself that it wasn’t her fault completely, she didn’t know the full story, she didn’t know what Michael was to him. On top of that, it didn’t feel fair to welcome Michael back with open arms and then just reject her friendship completely. No matter how much that little voice in his head told him the opposite.

So, to keep it at a happy medium, he pretty much only talked about his random hookups. It made for safe conversation. They didn’t have to talk about Michael, they didn’t have to discuss his past relationships. He just had to talk about the guy with the six-pack who did situps in the bathroom for twenty minutes before sex and tired himself out too much to even be good in bed. Alex just hadn’t anticipated that she’d be talking about it in front of Michael.

“I mean, there’s not much to tell. He was hot, we hooked up,” Alex said simply, trying not to look Michael’s way. Still, he saw the way his jaw clenched and he looked down, letting his arm fall from Maria’s shoulders.

“That doesn’t sound safe,” Michael said. Alex gave a small smile.

“I’m safe, don’t worry. It’s just something to pass the time, make sure I don’t work myself too hard,” Alex promised honesty. He nodded, but it was clear it bothered him.

Alex would be lying if he said that didn’t give him a little hope.

“Are you sure?”

“You need practice, don’t you?”

Alex responded to Michael’s slightly terrified face with the most comforting smile he could manage. He was on his couch, his shirt open, and a giant scratch on display. He’d stupidly been trying to get something out of a tree and misstepped which caused him to slide down the tree a little ways and give him a virtually superficial scratch across his abdomen. It burned a little when he tried to clean it, but that was it.

So he called Michael and asked if he wanted to test his healing abilities.

“But I don’t want to hurt you. What if I kill you instead? Max isn’t here to bring you back. I-I don’t wanna hurt you more,” Michael said, bouncing with nerves. His eyebrows were pulled together adorably in concern. Alex leaned forward with a smile.

“I trust you,” he said firmly, making sure to look Michael in the eyes. And he did trust him, trusted him more than he trusted anyone else in the world. Michael was his family and he meant everything. Especially in the last few months of getting closer and closer and closer.

“Okay,” Michael said after a moment, nodding his head. Alex leaned against his couch and Michael kneeled between his legs. He made sure to keep his breathing regular as Michael’s warm hand laid over his heart. “You ready?”

“Yes.”

And he waited a moment. And nothing happened.

“Okay, wait, I need to talk to you about something before I do this because, from what Liz says, after I put this handprint on you, you’re gonna like… feel what I feel, and I don’t want to have this conversation with you being influenced by my feelings,” Michael said, pulling back sitting on the coffee table. Alex sat up a little straighter. “You told me a couple of months ago to come to talk to you when I was sober. Well… I’m sober.”

Alex licked his lips and silently cursed Michael for not giving him a head’s up that he wanted to have this conversation today. He would’ve planned it out better.

“Uh, well, what do you wanna talk about? I mean… I know that you misunderstood everything that happened before you went and kissed Maria, but I don’t feel like I’m completely innocent in that. I know I’m not good with my words and I also know that you’ve been so fucked over so many times that you’re going to take everything as a rejection even if it isn’t. But I think the main this is that when I came to you in your airstream after Caufield… I wasn’t trying to fuck you and leave or giving mixed signals or acting out of pity. Seeing what my family was capable of and seeing what could’ve happened to you really put things in perspective. I didn’t want to waste time, I wanted to be with you. When I came to you, that was the real deal. I wanted a relationship for real and I was willing to put you above my fears because I realized being without you was scarier than anything my father could do to me. I just had shit timing, like always,” Alex admitted, his chest heavy and his face on fire. He was too terrified to look up at Michael’s face.

“But… But you said that you wanted to just be friends, that I was too much of a criminal for‒”

“Hey, no, I didn’t say that. Fuck anything that says I can’t be with you because we’re too different,” Alex said and he hoped Michael understood he meant more than just the Criminal/Airman situation, “And I never meant just friends. I wanted to get to know you, to start over without all the pain and have something based on trust and not just fear and lust. You know, kinda like we’ve done now.”

When Alex got the courage to look up at Michael, he found him staring at the floor in confusion. Alex considered reaching out to him but decided against it.

“But, at Caulfield, you…”

“I meant everything I said at Caulfield. Just a shit time to tell you I love you,” Alex said. Michael looked up at him with a face not too unlike that night months prior when he was desperate for Alex to stop being so mad at him. “Look, I am sorry. I know it didn’t help that I kept walking away and I should’ve made sure you understood what I meant. That’s my fault and I’m sorry for being so angry at you for making a decision to protect yourself from me. I know I didn’t give you enough reasons to feel like I was all in.”

Things were silent for a moment and Alex wondered if maybe he’d said too much. At the end of the day, Michael was still with Maria. Just because Michael was it for Alex didn’t mean that was reciprocated. Love confessions were a little heavy.

“I’m sorry too,” Michael said, clasping his hands together as he leaned forward on his knees. Alex gave him a small smile.

“Do you know what you’re apologizing for this time?” Alex said playfully, hoping to lighten the mood just a little bit. Michael rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, licking his lips as he took a deep breath, “I’m sorry for hurting you. Whenever I did that, I had just had so much shit happen and I just… I wanted something that didn’t hurt. And I’m sorry for having issues with you hooking up with people too, I know that it’s not my business.”

“It’s okay. I understand,” Alex said, offering a smile. But Michael took another heavy breath and looked him in the eye.

“But mostly I’m sorry I took advantage of you.”

Michael’s shoulders relaxed as if relieved to get that off his chest. However, something sat heavy in Alex’s stomach at the unexpected words.

“What do you mean?” Alex asked softly. Michael chewed on his bottom lip, casting his eyes down as he messed with his fingers.

“I mean… I’ve known you for, what, seventeen, eighteen years? I know you, Alex, I know you struggle with your words and conveying your emotions‒which isn’t your fault. Your dad didn’t allow you to and that’s fucked. Point is, I knew it. I knew it and I still used it against you, used it as an excuse to hurt you. Then, afterward, I basically guilted you into helping me. I made you put your own feelings to the side to take care of me and… fuck, I’m sorry, Alex. I promise, I’m gonna be better about taking care of you and your feelings. I promise,” Michael explained. Alex managed a little smile as his heart thudded harder in his chest.

He never blamed Michael for everything that happened, but damn was that good to hear. He wasn’t even completely sure why it felt so good. Maybe it was just nice to hear he wasn’t wrong in being hurt by the events.

“Thank you,” Alex replied sincerely. Michael gave him a sweet smile, nodding and gave Alex encouragement to say his own piece. “And, Michael, I just want you to know… I’m here.”

Michael smiled. “I know.”

“No, I mean… I’m here for you,” Alex said and Michael’s smiled started to drop, “I kept you waiting for a decade, so… It’s my turn to wait. And I’ll wait as long as I need to. I love you and I want to be with you and I’m willing to wait.” Michael gulped.

“Alex.”

“And I’m not trying to make you feel bad or force you to choose or anything. If Maria makes you happy, then I’m not going to stand in the way. You can take all the time you need, I’m not trying to push. I just know that you’re it for me and I also know this shit began with me never making that clear. So, just, whenever you’re ready, I’m waiting. Always, no matter what, no matter who you might see me with,” he explained. Michael tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, staring with worried eyes. But Alex wasn’t worried. He didn’t expect anything in return. He just needed him to know.

“No pressure?” Michael asked. Alex grinned and help up his hand, sticking out his pinky.

“None at all. I promise.” Michael managed a smile, looping his pinky with Alex’s and they each kissed their own fists.

“Then let’s get you healed.”

Michael moved closer, kneeling between Alex’s legs once again. He locked eyes for a moment, silently asking for permission which he received immediately in the form of an encouraging nod. Michael gently placed his hand over Alex’s heart again.

His palm started warming up slowly and, along with it, waves of comfort began coursing through Alex’s body. He let his eyes close as it did and, the more he let himself fall into the feeling, the stronger it got. It was Michael that he was feeling, Michael’s overwhelming affection and undiluted, unconditional love. It got stronger and stronger until that’s all Alex could feel or think just love

love

It was overwhelming and it was becoming harder and harder for Alex to keep his composure. It was deep, embedded in his bones. Especially when the feeling grew, blossoming into pure pleasure. His mind and body slowly unraveled, succumbing to whatever Michael was filling him with until he couldn’t think anymore.

And then Michael pressed harder and a determined scream filled the air.

Alex lost all sense of self-control at that point. His back arched into Michael’s touch, his jaw dropping open in a pathetic, deep moan. It was something akin to the world’s most satisfying orgasm. Which had to be when Michael snatched his hand away.

Alex felt dizzy at the sharp loss of contact, most of the pleasure in his system disappearing with it. He could still feel it deep in him and he could feel Michael in his mind in a way he struggled to understand. It was warm and comforting and loving and, had Michael wanted this to lead to sex, Alex would’ve had his jeans on the floor before he could finish his sentence.

But Michael didn’t want it to lead to sex, in fact, he couldn’t seem to breathe as he fell back against the coffee table. Alex did his best to clear his mind, to push away how turned on he was so he could focus on Michael.

“I’m sorry,” he said instantly because what else do you say when you get off on your ex-boyfriend platonically touching you. Michael still couldn’t catch his breath. Alex searched his mind for what he’d been told about healing. “Are you gonna throw up? Do you need me to get a bucket?”

Michael’s heavy breathing started to pick up and he was staring at Alex with wide eyes that almost seemed offended. That was a quick way to shove away all of the good vibes he’d just gotten and it became more apparent that Michael’s presence in his mind seemed to be just as panicked.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here, I’ve got you. Look, it worked,” Alex said softly, moving closer to the man on the floor. Alex hesitantly went to run a hand through Michael’s hair. His eyes closed to the feeling, so Alex kept it there, massaging his scalp and letting it soothe him just a little bit. It was clear he was just as overwhelmed as Alex had felt, just in a different way. “Talk to me.”

Michael froze for a moment before scrambling to his feet.

“I have to go. I’ll be back.”

And then he was gone, Alex’s door left wide open in his wake.

Alex didn’t hear from Michael for the rest of the night, but he didn’t let himself worry too much. If there was anything that came out of having Michael’s handprint on his skin was that he was more sure than ever that they were meant to be. Even if Michael was with Maria right now, Alex could feel the love Michael had for him and it was enough to have him strut into the Project Shepard bunker with a helpless grin on his face.

“Well, now everything makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

Kyle was waiting for him in the bunker already, sitting in one of the chairs and raising an eyebrow high. Alex couldn’t even let his smile fall at that.

“Guerin broke up with Maria last night,” Kyle said. Alex’s heart started to beat a little harder.

“Really?”

“Jeez, Alex, you could at least try to not look so happy about it,” he chuckled. Alex shrugged and went to take his own seat. He wanted to feel bad for Maria since he knew she was probably upset, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Michael was going to be his and he wasn’t going to fuck it up this time.

Things were falling into place.

“So, what happened?” Kyle asked. Alex pulled his partially open shirt to the side, flashing him the handprint. Kyle’s eyes went wide.

“It was just a scratch, but he wanted to practice. And we had a good talk about us and when he healed me, we sort of just… felt each other. He sort of freaked out and left, but he said he’d be back so I guess I should’ve assumed he was going to Maria,” Alex said, shrugging. A stupid smile found his face again once he realized that Michael had taken those feelings so seriously.

“You’re not worried that he freaked out?” Kyle asked. Alex shrugged again. He didn’t really know how to explain it. He could still feel Michael and, even though it was a lot, it was overall positive. He seemed to be feeling good, if not just a little confused about the events. He understood that he just needed a moment.

“No. I… I can feel him. He’s okay,” Alex offered. Kyle rolled his eyes.

“Great. More psychic alien bullshit.”

Michael was pacing the front porch of the cabin whenever Alex got home that night.

Alex made sure to school the smile on his face before he approached him. He didn’t want to overwhelm him anymore or show that he was too excited about what might happen. Michael might not even want to jump into a relationship even if he did just get perfect evidence for just how much Alex loved him. He couldn’t get his hopes up too high.

“Hey,” Alex called to him. Michael stood taller and spun to face him, eyes wide and nerves rippling off his body.

“Hi,” he said, “Can we talk?”

“Of course,” Alex agreed, opening the door and leaving it open for Michael to follow. They didn’t even reach the couch before Michael started talking.

“Yesterday, you… That was a lot,” Michael breathed. Alex smiled and nodded his head, sitting on the couch. Michael sat on the coffee table in front of him just like the day before. “You actually love me.” Alex sputtered a laugh.

“I told you beforehand that I love you.”

“I didn’t realize how serious you were!”

Alex shook his head at Michael and the two of them smiled. Michael’s knee was bouncing and he was moving in between smiling and biting on his lip. Alex fought the urge to bite it himself.

“I broke up with Maria.”

“I heard.”

“I love you too.”

“I know, I can feel it.”

They again fell silent, smiling wider than before. Alex was feeling even more hopeful than before. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on Michael, to call him his boyfriend and to love him as he deserved. And he couldn’t wait to be loved as he deserved.

“I care about your feelings, Alex. Whenever you want to have an epic emotional breakdown like I have, like, weekly, I’ll be there. I’m gonna be here to pick up the pieces just like you do for me. Because you’re my family,” Michael said and Alex wondered if he’d created a list of things to clarify before they finally got back together.

“Can’t wait,” Alex laughed, “You’re my family too.” Michael took a deep breath.

“And we’re gonna be for real this time. All trust and communication, right?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Are you ready?” Michael asked, “Because I’m ready. I can’t keep you waiting for a decade, I need you too much.”

If the world exploded and ended at that moment, Alex wouldn’t have noticed. He wouldn’t have cared. Nothing else mattered except for Michael and Alex and love.

“I’m ready.”

Michael surged forward without much of a warning, pressing Alex into the couch with a desperate kiss. Alex’s body lit on fire as he pulled him closer, melting into everything that was Michael Guerin. It wasn’t that much different than the night before, that absolute feeling of euphoria and love and affection and love and happiness and love and love and love.

It was the beginning of forever.

#malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #roswell new mexico fic #michael guerin fic #alex manes fic #requests #alexs pov #6k word #other tags probably that i can't think of

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euphoriacrossing · 4 years

Text

So while I sit here trying to get normal balloon spawns...

I may as well write a blog. I am using a guide post on how to catch normal balloon spawns to try and get more cherry blossom recipes. Well I am only half using it.. I am camping on the beach waiting for normal balloon spawns instead of going there every 0/5 ending minute. I'll share the guide on here after this if I remember, but I already got one new cherry blossom recipe just by camping on the side of the beach that balloon spawns are coming from and ignoring the bunny day balloons, so I think this could work, too.

Anyway, now story mode is over, but I still have so, so much to do that it's not even funny. I am making it my main priority to save miles up to buy all the different paths and stuff. I think I have three left to buy so roughly 6,000 miles to earn. But saving miles means making less bells as Nook mile trips are where I made the most, I think. And now I can't take them because I have no miles/am saving miles and so I don't have the bells to pay off my house or to build a new bridge or any of the things I am saving for. But in part the fact it is harder to save bells just makes it feel like I have more to do and that is comforting in a way. I want the appeal of this game to last forever but I know my brain doesn't work like that. Still for now it's the best distraction I have and I'm grateful for it.

Having the ability to make paths is tough because it's just another million decisions to make and hope I get it right or can redo it better or whatever, so that Euphoria becomes the island I dreamed it could be. Right now I have a lot of dirt paths and I think they look okay. But I plan on redoing them someday with either custom paths or maybe just the arched tile ones... I like that path style. Still I started when I just had dirt so I just kind of kept going that way.

It looks alright, I think, especially at the entrance. I haven't finished a lot of the paths on either the right (residential) side or the left (wooded area/orchard) but I have mostly finished the center which is shops and such.

(So far I've gotten a normal balloon spawn every 5 minutes! So it works to just hang around the beach and then look for the spawns at every 0 and 5 ending minute. Edit: Aw, nope just didn't get that last one... I am probably doing something wrong then. Oops Edit2: Definitely doing something wrong. Didn't get a spawn again. Oh well I'll check the guide again once I finish this post. I am also watching for wishing stars so it won't be a total waste.. though I haven't seen any of those either. Last edit: Guide said spawns don't happen every time AND I just got another regular balloon, so maybe I'm fine? I hope I am not just wasting time.)

I am moving most of the houses before I do the paths on that side which is ANOTHER expense for sure, but after seeing a couple of my friend's islands, I knew I could make the houses probably a bit straighter and I decided I want them not quite as closer together as I want everyone to be able to have a yard. One of my friends has houses that are PIN straight and have little yards to them. I don't think I can accomplish that. But I do think I can space them out far enough to fence them in and have little yards.

So I started with the last to move in which was Marina. I put her in a space both by the beach, and by my house because even though she just moved in we're absolute besties. No but honestly, I love her. She sings like everywhere she goes and it's adorable.

I would move Beau next but I think he might stay close to where he is. Unfortunately if I have to move him a little bit I first have to move his house out of the way and then move it back because you can't move buildings just a tad, you have to find a whole new spot. This is why I had to move the whole museum to a new spot as it was slightly out of line and i couldn't just move it to where it lined up. I wish i had known this when i put things there. I didn't take care placing anything because I knew it could be moved. I only ASSUMED it could be moved a small amount as well especially since I assumed correctly that you were paying for it. But no, so oh well, now I have to come up with new spots for things, that's fine. Luckily both Nook's Cranny and the Able Sisters I got in perfect alignment with resident services like I wanted to so they're all on one straight path.

Anyway, I hope I can get it looking like i want it to. I thought that decorating it how I wanted would be the hardest because I still need to find all the furniture. But the paths might give that a run for it's money when we talk about difficulty level if you include trying to get all the houses in the right position and such.

But as hard as I've been "working" (it's definitely still fun or I wouldn't do it) I have found plenty of time for play as well. Yesterday morning I visited a friend for her KK Slider concert. I luckily have a good group of friends from a discord I'm part of and a lot of them are from other countries so they experience stuff before I do and things like that. So a bunch of us visited her for her KK concert and we did some of that...

And then things got a little wild...

Lol, it was fun. I thought for a second about the state of the world but I didn't panic thankfully. I just saw a bunch of us coming together from across the globe, some of us in quaratine, almost all of us at least ADVISED not to go out unless necessary. The world is a scary place right now, but the fact we could still come together from across the globe to be silly and enjoy a game together makes me feel like everything might be alright. I mean, it would still be cool even if these things weren't going on, but the fact they are abd socialization is becoming more difficult than ever, it's cool to see an alternate means of that in action.

I can't believe I took no pictures of her super straight houses, ugh, if I go again, I will have to, they are literally perfect.

And the weirdest thing about all of this to me is how included i feel in all of this. We're all on a small AC discord together and it seems like a lot of them have maybe known each other a while. But unlike a lot of other places it doesn't feel cliquey to me. I've always been welcome to come to their islands, and they have always been very courteous when any of them have come to mine. They act as happy to see me as they do anyone else. And I've only known them a short time so it would usually feel strange to call them "friends" but it doesn't. Now obviously they could feel differently but if they do they don't show it. I am incredibly grateful to have found them. I really couldn't ask for a better group of people to play with.

I actually was invited from this tumblr. Likely after I made some kind of post about not feeling like I belonged in the AC community or something similarly emo and whiny, I'm sure. So I am surprised I was invited at all, but I am so thankful I was. It was just what i was looking for in the AC community.

(Yes! I learned cherry blossom umbrella! Balloon hunting is going fairly well considering I only had like two of the cherry blossom DIYs total before I started and now in about an hour I've doubled that.)

I do have some facebook friends and such I have play AC with, and I am also grateful for them as well of course. It has brought us closer together and I am thankful for that. I have one friend who we constantly send each other gifts like if we accidentally got two of something or a DIY we already have or just if we think something is cool, it's really fun. I enjoy mail as much in game as I do in real life.

But yeah, I was nervous when this game first came out that I would be stuck playing just with my sister. And don't get me wrong I love playing the game with her, we always have a good time. But sometimes you need socialization beyond your own family and I really saw this as my one chance to connect since I'm not very social, I am very anxious, and I just struggle with these things. I may have been right about it being my best chance at connection because I can hide a lot of the awkwardness in game. Very thankfully though, I found people who accept what I can't hide in game. And who accept me. For some reason that's just been really hard to do. Every community I am a part of I feel like an outsider until now. But yeah, I am looking forward to a continued friendship with these people and continuing to enjoy the game moving forward.

I guess I've rambled enough. I still need to get more balloons, but I can't write here forever. Though... I frequently do write far too much here and I wonder if it get read. If it doesn't I don't blame ya. But yeah. I will leave you with this adorable pic I took while Marina was singing... you can't really tell she was singing, but still, she's adorable either way.

(And don't you love this dress? I have it in I think 4 different colors, I just love it.)

#personal #text post #ACNH #Animal Crossing #New Horizons #Euphoria #friends

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afrodeitiess · 5 years

Text

Wedding Bells

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒 | Prologue

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tony Stark x Black!Oc

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1780 Words

THE CREAMY WHITE wedding dress seemed to become tighter with each growing second, constructing her breathing and pushing her chest together so that her breasts had no other direction to go but up, up, up.

Topanga Woods has never once imagined that she'd be here. She'd never thought that she would ever choose to spend the rest of her life with one person and she remembered being quite averse to the idea of marriage. She was as stubborn as they came and that she was no picnic to be around. The idea of marriage has always felt very far away, like some inevitable fate that would one day catch up with her and drain all of the light from her life.

Every single time that her father had brought up the topic of marriage before, she'd always said that she'd die all alone and surrounded by a million cats and while her stance on the cats still had not changed, it was now hard to imagine her life without Tony Stark. It was difficult to say exactly when her feelings for the millionaire, playboy genius, philanthropist - his words, not hers - had suddenly morphed from hatred to mere tolerance and eventually to love but she'd never imagined that she'd be so excited at the prospect of walking down the aisle and becoming his wife.

Despite all of this, Topanga felt an iron grip over her heart, squeezing and wrenching until she felt as if she could just crawl into a hole and die. She'd known to expect this as she'd lived her entire with anxiety and she was always second-guessing her decisions and sweating the simple things but all of her fears and doubts were bubbling over inside of her.

What sort of wife would she make? She wasn't the most accommodating person and she required her standard eight hours of sleep to function. Topanga had a tendency to self-destruct, to simply give up or ruin something before she could end up hurt and alone. Being with Tony made her happy and she loved being able to wake up next to him every morning and being able to make him smile with a simple corny joke. She loved him and she wanted the best for him but she couldn't shake the feeling that he deserved better. Somebody else.

Besides, the title of Tony Stark's wife would definitely be different from all of the ones that she'd occupied previously. They'd started out as enemies and rivals and with time, they became friends and eventually, she was his girlfriend and then lover. And in the sum of a few years, she'd managed to add fiancée to the list and now, she was taking in the title of his wife.

What sort of mother would she make? She hadn't known her own mother as anything other than the woman had left her father soon after she was born. All that Topanga had ever had was her father and a letter from the woman who had birthed her. She didn't particularly care for her mother. What a pair she and Tony made with their various mommy and daddy issues.

Topanga allowed herself to chuckle at her own thoughts and shift ever so slightly. The little movement was enough to catch her seamstress' attention. "Stop moving. You're going to mess up your dress and then you'll have to walk down the aisle looking like a mess." Topanga adhered to her instruction and resisted the urge to retort that stating all of the things that could go wrong was not helping her anxiety at all. She was already singing that song to herself on repeat.

Within half an hour, her makeup was all done and Topanga was grateful, although she couldn't feel her face. She sat in front of the mirror and glanced over her shoulder to make sure that her makeup artist wasn't looking before she wiped furiously at the vivid red lipstick that she'd painted all over her lips. "Are you decent?" Topanga heard a voice call from the door. She could recognize her best friend's voice anywhere.

"Decent," she called to Alex and she heard two sets of footsteps from the door.

"It's nothing I haven't seen before anyways," a voice called and the words were followed by a low chuckle. Topanga could hardly stop the smile that perched itself on her lips, despite her upset feelings. Her husband-to-be. She turned around to find Tony stumbling into the room, hands over his eyes.

"I found him outside straight up freaking out," Alexis explained as she led Tony by the arm further into the large room.

"I was not freaking out. Tony Stark doesn't freak out."

Topanga scoffed underneath her breath as she could recall several times that he'd done just that. She smiled at him, although he couldn't see her and picked up the bottom of her dress and she waved off the makeup artist to give them some time alone. "Hey baby," she greeted him.

"Hey," he returned and despite her closed eyes, she could hear the smile in his voice. "I wasn't sure if it was seeing the bride or talking to her on the wedding day that's bad luck."

Topanga chuckled at him and turned around before instructing him to do the same. "What's wrong?" she asked, taking a step in his general direction and she heard him do the same. "You're not going to disappear on me, are you?" Her tone was joking and for the most part, she was but she couldn't help the fear that crept into her mind and her moisture that seemed to materialize on her palms.

"I would never. Besides, I highly doubt that there's any distance that would stop you from hunting me down and making my life hell," he said, laughing lightly as stepped to the right in the direction of her voice.

"True," Topanga admitted with a shrug. She took another step back, using the sound of his voice as a guide. "All of these preparations are getting to me. It would be much easier if we just eloped."

Tony's answer came far too quickly for her comfort. It seemed that he, too, was second-guessing everything. "We still could. We could run away from here and get engaged in Vegas. It's really nice there this time of the year. I know people there that can marry us for little to no money - I did that once, true story - and then we can honeymoon around the world and come back and show off the tan that we don't have."

Topanga's brow jutted up at the insinuation that Tony had been married once although she was sure that it was another story from his crazy life and she wasn't all that excited to hear about it. She lifted her feet back one step towards him. This time she was sure that she was close. She could feel it. She lifted her hand to grab his and was met with cool air. "To your left, Tony. No, not my left. Your left."

This time she reached back and her skin made contact with his and she wrapped her hand around him and exhaled quietly. She rested her back against him and their hands intertwined behind them and suddenly, nothing mattered. Not the doubts that she was having or the too-tight dress or Tony's Vegas story. All of her doubts were reduced to whimpering whispers at the back of her mind. She felt Tony exhale and slump a bit. "Where is all this coming from, Tony?" she asked after the silence became too much bear.

"I'm not sure," he whispered to her as they both sunk to the ground, not caring that it would be really bad if her dress was stained. "You know that I never really pictured myself getting married. Commitment? Gross, right. But I always figured that I would eventually and I love you. I absolutely want to spend the rest of my life with you but I don't know, I just always thought if I ever did get married, that my mom would be there."

Topanga couldn't think of anything to say. They talked about everything but while they'd talked about his parents before, she knew that it was a touchy subject for him. She wasn't sure that there was anything that she could say that would fix it so she didn't say anything. She simply rubbed circles at the back of his hand. It wasn't much but to Tony, it was everything. She was there and that was all that mattered the most. Still, he couldn't stop himself from voicing his fears to her. "Do you think we're making a mistake?"

Topanga sighed. "I really don't know." There was something quite daunting about having to voice her worried out loud. Even if it was to the person who knew her best. She got the sense that she didn't have to say it anyway. He already knew. "I hope not but we're human and making mistakes is what we do best. We're all too skilled at shattering but we're together, right? And we'll always be able to put the pieces back together."

Topanga wasn't sure if she believed it or if she was simply trying to convince herself but she really hoped it was true because she'd found something great with Tony and she wasn't willing to give it up. Not now.

A beat passed between them.

"God, I really want to kiss you right now," Tony commented, his fingers playing with hers. "You know that I'm absolutely in love with you, right?"

"You've said it once or twice," she laughed at him and she was surprised to find that she didn't feel as awful as she did before. If anything, she was in a hurry to put a ring on him and officially make him hers. "I love you." She leaned back against him and he squeezed her hands tighter as if she was his only tether to the world around him.

Topanga couldn't help but think that everything would be okay. They were only two people and they were, by no means, perfect but they were together and they were in the eye of the storm. It was quiet and perhaps that was all they'd ever have but it was them against the world and that was more than enough for the two troubled souls.

___________________

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄.

━ So that was the first chapter and it’s kind of tame and not nearly as emotional as the rest of the story will get but I hope you enjoyed it. Like and reblog if you did

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21secondsofchristoph · 5 years

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Here is a full translation of the interview with the FAZ:

Mr Waltz, statistically you're a rarity. Only five percent of all actors in Los Angeles manage to get enough jobs to get accepted into the SAG. And out of that group, only about five percent earn enough to make a living out of their art.

Becoming an actor is like becoming a father: really easy. Being and staying an actor is much harder.

We're meeting today, because you're not playing the villain for once, but some kind of action-hero in James Cameron's Manga movie "Alita: Battle Angel"

As a futuristic doctor you revive a cyborg from Mars, so you're basically working on the interface of human and machine

Haha, you could put it like that! I like that!

When the story was published as a comic in 1990 it was considered Science-fiction. Today, people like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos actually work on brain implants and dream of colonies on Mars. Have you dealt with such things as preperation?

I don't take Elon Musk seriously. His behavior strikes me as ridiculous and you can't forget that he has a commercial interest in the topic's sensation. I've already watched moon landing's and flights into space as a child. Is it really necessary to introduce billionaires into space tourism? Well, we will see what happens. I am interested in new technologies but it's difficult to seperate them from journalism of sensation, even if it's dressed seriously.

In time, a lot of things might be possible that I can't even imagine right now. But there is another question: the question of necessity.

The market economy drives our world into an orgy of uselessness. It damages our planet and our lives on it. Who wants to live on Mars? That we will all be unemployed and the environment destroyed is in no relation to any use.

Can one stop the progress if it's useless?

Not as long as someone benefits from it.

What about the desire for disruption?

Disrupting something is an easy action, replacing it with something useful is not.

I'm always ready to disrupt something if there is a useful counterproposal. Not necessarily until then.

A lot of things are turned upside down in film industry. Netflix not only revolutionized the concept of television, it also produces exciting movies. And Youtube even has its own celebrities among the new generation.

Over the past few months I've watched some movies which hadn't been produced without Netlflix. For example the winner of the Venice Film Festival "Roma". Movies like that wouldn't run longer than 3 weeks in theaters. Through the premiers and prices it now receives the attention it deserves. And after that it's on Netflix. As superficial as I can see that, it's not the worst thing.

In contrast to that, I don't have a hard time with not watching Youtube. It's probably a cultural matter and depends on how we want to shape our lives. Of course it's also a generational matter. But why is that? Just because someone is younger, it doesn't mean they are predestined for entertainment through videoclips.

You have 4 children. You have to be familiar with this world. Where do you see the difference to your generation?

In school we were always confronted with things we didn't like, but which we couldn't dispose of.

That's where the wonderful word "Bildung" comes from, which doesn't exist in English. Education refers to an information value. "Bildung" goes further than education through its cultural formation. When I was in school I also didn't understand why I had to study Latin. But not wanting to learn Latin would have never occured to me. Just because no one speaks it anymore and learning it seemed uncomfortable.

And did you like it?

It created connections within a language, trained precise phrasing, as well as logic and discipline. It's certainly more challenging to learn an abstract language than watching a funny Youtube video.

About for or five years ago you warned Facebook might be a breeding ground for the fast growth of terror organisations. Are you surprised that it also seems to threaten western democracies now?

Not at all. History has taught us that medium and structure can be more dangerous than the message, because it's easier to handle the problematic movement than the well oiled machine that keeps it going. Especially when algorithms control the dynamics in the networks, those networks can become independent.

Some hope that societies might improve through a "Wutbürger"-culture and a crazy government.

At best, all of that just has entertainment value.

So maybe not anyone should always add their opinions?

If you don't have anything clever to say you should shut your mouth. But actually it's the other way around. Apart from this choir of stupidity being really annoying, people who haven't developed the resistance and sensors might fall for the noise. Whoever shouts the loudest ends up being heard.

You are known for keeping your private life private. How does that match marketing's and fan's expectations?

Fame is an unsolved problem, not only for me.

You either remain an anonymous observer without a bigger platform to present your realizations. That is an unfortunate paradox because the people who get the chance to move in public have to deal with growing fame while they also distance themselves from the influences and experiences of real life.

Studies have shown that introverts would handle most jobs better. But they tend to get cast out by the loudmouths.

I can imagine that. Self- and foreign perception are a tricky thing. I can remember the first Loveparades in Berlin which I saw on TV. I always avoided the event myself. In the interviews, people were saying things like: "We celebrate our individuality!" And there were one million people that all looked the same. The music was a monotonous bum-bum-bum and I always tried to spot a moment of individuality.

You've been living in the centre of individuality for a while now. Do you still consider the United States of America governable?

Maybe not as a federation. The question I'm interested in is whether the USA as a federation are still worthy of governance. California alone is the fifth largest economy in the world.

In an interview from 2003 you talked about posing, about film makers who eroticise themselves and about how to stand yourself

Oh God, I remember.

Are you currently able to stand yourself?

Sometimes. But it's not easy.

At that time you weren't a Hollywood star and you made yourself very clear in interviews.

"Schindler's list" is mendacious because Spielberg might have thought "that type of movie still lacks from my collection of movies about dinosaurs and UFOs

Or that Roberto Benigni's "Life is Beautiful" is "crap" because it communicates that it's alright to laugh about concentration camps. "when it's a tender laugh"

Do you still dare to say such things now that you constantly meet other Hollywood stars?

In Germany, yes. In America, no.

Do you believe it's better to become famous later in life? And does aging feel better when you're at least famous while you're aging?

Hopefully both, right? As a young man you often experience the world through tunnel vision, because you impatiently want to experience everything, even though you can't sort a lot of things right. If the attention hits you at that point in life, you get in danger of stirring towards a dead end where you don't develop well.

Do you believe you became more careful and more lenient over the years and success?

You're becoming more careful and more lenient. I never thought of that before. I thought: Now I suddenly step back a little. You become more lenient when you connect yourself to it. In a strict German way you could call it cowardice, because you gain another point of view, the insight. And apart from the experience and the success it might be due to the abrasion of the testosterone-related edges.

#christoph waltz #alitabattleangel

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